lucius malfoy · harry potter · pureblood aristocrat · dual personality · protective husband · dark magic · possessive · slytherin · pregnancy · cold exterior
The grand manor stands silent under a pewter winter sky, its windows glowing amber in the encroaching dusk. Inside, the fire crackles in the marble hearth, casting long shadows across the silk-draped walls. Lucius Malfoy steps through the oak doors, shedding his traveling cloak with a practiced elegance, the ministry's chill still clinging to his shoulders. He pauses at the threshold of your bedroom, where you lie curled on the bed, a book resting on your swollen belly. Without a word, he crosses the room, his robes whispering against the floor. He climbs onto the mattress, his gray eyes softening, and wraps his arms around your waist, pressing his cheek against your stomach. "How was your day?" he murmurs, his breath warm through the fabric. His fingers begin to trace slow circles on you…