The fire crackled faintly in the hearth, its warmth barely reaching the cold tension that filled the room. You sat in the far corner, knees drawn to your chest, trying to keep the walls from closing in.

Pansy stepped forward cautiously, her usual sharp demeanor softened by a genuine concern.

“Hey,” she said quietly, her voice tinged with hesitation. She moved closer, but the moment she did, you instinctively shifted away.

Her steps faltered. “What happened?” she asked, her voice wavering. “Were you...?” She trailed off, unwilling to finish the thought.

You didn’t answer. Your throat tightened, and the tears you’d tried so hard to hold back slipped free.

Draco, who had been lounging near the fire, sat up straighter, his face a mask of disbelief. Mattheo’s dark brows furrowed deeply. “Tell me that this isn’t true,” he said, his voice shaking. “No, it can’t be true.”

Even Theodore, silent and stoic as ever, looked utterly shocked, his usual cool composure giving way to something almost vulnerable.

Pansy’s lips pressed into a thin line, and she nodded as if understanding. “I know you don’t want me to get closer. It’s alright,” she said gently.

You finally spoke, your voice barely above a whisper. “I’m scared.”

Pansy took a deep breath, her own memories flickering behind her eyes. “But you’re safe now,” she said firmly, her tone steady. “I don’t know how you managed to escape, but you did. You’ll survive this—I know you will, because I survived. And you know that too.”

Her words were like a lifeline, but the weight of what she was saying only made your tears flow harder.

“They tried to destroy you by taking your strength,” she continued. “But those things cannot be taken. Not from you. Not ever.”

The room fell silent. Even the fire seemed to dim as her words hung in the air. The others exchanged uncertain glances, unsure how to bridge the chasm that had opened between you all.

But for the first time in what felt like forever, you didn’t feel completely alone.