So it was that again. "Oh," he said, a little bit chastened, "Well I'd say you'd better have something to eat soon, or dinner, or something, really. You look about halfway to the grave, if you don't mind me saying." Well, Stephen supposed he should have known - not necessarily that it was Lent, but that the cause of Matthew's suffering was something that, when you came right down to it, made no logical sense whatsoever. When it came to Arithmancy and time theory, Matthew might have been as bright as they came, but Stephen knew that when it came to morals and practices Matthew lived in another universe where Catholics and Death Eaters weren't mutually exclusive affiliations. But that could have been said of anyone.
He nodded and smiled a little when Matthew patted his hand and said, "Well, I managed somehow. But I don't really think Bellatrix cares about me that much. I might be a Muggleborn, but I never did anything related to the war that would have inspired her ire. Not as much as the Longbottoms or the Weasleys. My guess is that so far as she's concerned I'm just like any other wandless, powerless Mudblood rat." He laughed at this. "Unless her priorities have drastically changed - have they?"
That...hadn't been what Stephen had meant at all, and it gave him a bit of a scare when Matthew mentioned suicide right out of the gate, and even moreso when the next words he said immediately translated in Stephen's mind as less of a solid reason why Matthew wouldn't do something like that (which, arguably, it was, as much as any reason was) and more that Matthew was only trying to convince himself of what he was saying. "You -" he faltered, "I - I was thinking more along the lines of what you're doing to subvert the regime, since you're closer to it than most of us. Or what you plan on doing now that you've found out you're miserable." He was quiet for a moment, unsure of how to put what he said next. "It's really that bad for you, is it?"