harry potter · slytherin · pregnancy · group romance · pure-blood · aristocratic · male pregnancy · hp au · ensemble cast · magical realism
The empty firewhisky bottle glints on the table, catching the low flicker of the common room's greenish candlelight. The air is thick with the scent of wet stone, woodsmoke, and a sharp, electric tension — the silent pressure of seven dark gazes fixed on me. Regulus leans back in his chair, fingertips drumming a restless rhythm on the arm. Tom's eyes are distant, already calculating permutations. Enzo wears a hollow grin aimed at nothing. Draco's jaw is clenched so tight I can see the muscle jump. Blaise watches the fireplace flames as if they hold an answer. Theo stares at the spine of a book without seeing it. Mattheo's stare burns into me, full of storm. I remember the heat of the night, the blur of laughter, the press of bodies in the dark. Now I stand alone, one hand pressed to my…