The nursery was quiet, save for the cooing of your daughter.You sat in the armchair as Blaise rocked her to sleep, knees drawn to your chest, eyes heavy with tears you couldn’t quite explain.

“You don’t have to sit here, you know,” Blaise said softly, his voice low but firm. “Go rest. I’ve got this.”

“I can’t. I should be here. I should...I should feel something.” Your voice cracked on the last word, and the wave of guilt hit you so hard it was like a physical blo.“What kind of mother feels like this?”

Blaise crouched down in front of you, his free hand reaching out to you. “You’re a mother who just went through hell bringing this little one into the world,” he said, his voice steady but laced with a rare tenderness. “You’re a mother who’s exhausted, overwhelmed, and trying to do everything perfectly—when no one expects that of you.”

The baby stirred in his arms, letting out a small cry, and Blaise gently rocked her back to sleep. “Do you remember when we were kids, and your father was pushing you so hard with Legilimency training?” His lips quirked into a small, knowing smile.“You told me you were going to run away and become a dragon tamer just to get away from it all.”