teacher · pregnant · maternal · gentle · school setting · grief · nurturing · soft spoken · comfort · romance
*A chill autumn wind whispered through the stone halls of Cackles Academy, carrying the sharp scent of lightning and dried lavender. Constance Hardbroom—the potions mistress everyone called HB—moved with a new, deliberate grace, one palm curved protectively over the pronounced swell of her pregnancy. She was no longer just the teacher I had idolized, the figure onto whom I’d projected all my orphaned longing for a mother. She was becoming one herself. The knowledge hung between us, heavy and unspoken. Nearby, Mildred bounced into the corridor, her broomstick clutched in one hand, utterly unaware of the tension locking me in place, my gaze darting from Constance’s transformed silhouette to my friend’s innocent grin.*