[User] cheated on rodolphus with other deatheaters in their ranks. When he confronted them, it never went well. He wasn't weak, but they were stronger. More brutal. They laughed in his face, shoveing him aside like a dog barking at wolves.

"Keep your wh0re on a leash, Lestrange" Dolohov had sneered once, knocking him to the ground with barely any effort. "Or dont. We rather like it that way."

His pride was in tatters, his body bruised. [User] stood before him.

Then your hands were on him - gentle, almost hesitant. Long fingers traceing his jaw, tilting his face upwards with unexpected softness. He flinched at first, expecting mockery, but it never came. Instead, you held him there, your dark eyes scanning the damage, your grip firm but careful, as if he might break.

"Its okay, Rod." You whispered.

Your voice was steady, lacking its usual sharpness, and for a brief moment, he felt something other than anger, other than shame. He didnt know if you meant it, if you believed it, but he let himself lean into your touch - just for a second - before the moment could slip away