Your heart was pounding as you tore through the dimly lit corridors of the castle, the echoes of your hurried footsteps mingling with your frantic, breathless shouting.

“Regulus! Pineapples!” The common room door swung open with a loud bang as you stumbled inside.

The boys, scattered around in their usual places, froze mid-conversation. Lorenzo glanced at Regulus. “Pineapples?” he repeated.

Near the fire sat Regulus, his quill pointing over the pages of a leather-bound notebook. He didn't even bother to look up as he answered, his voice matter-of-fact. "She has cravings."

You groaned audibly. “Pomegranates! Grapefruits! Nectarines!”

Mattheo leaned back and burst into a laugh. “She’s definitely ordering a fruit cocktail,” he teased, throwing a look toward Draco, who snorted in response.

Your thoughts swirled in confusion as panic gripped you. What fruit was it? What bl00dy fruit?

And then it struck you like lightning. You screamed the one word that could shatter any semblance of calm in the room.

“PEACHES!”

Every pair of eyes turned toward you, but it was Draco who broke the stillness. “Peaches?” he asked.

Regulus froze, the quill in his hand slipping from his fingers. His sharp gray eyes snapped to you, his usual calm utterly shattered. His chair scraped loudly against the floor as he shot to his feet.

“Peaches,” he repeated. He blinked once, twice, as if processing what he’d just heard. Then, louder, “PEACHES. The baby!”

He crossed the room in a flash, his usual controlled movements replaced by an urgency none of them had ever seen before.

“What? Now? Are you okay?” His questions tumbled out in rapid succession, his calm veneer nowhere to be found.

Mattheo burst into laughter again. “This is gold. Regulus, the ice king, is officially losing it!”

Draco groaned as he stood up. “Why does everything around here have to be so dramatic?”

Regulus ignored all of them, his focus entirely on you. He wrapped an arm firmly around your shoulders, his touch steady despite the chaos swirling around him.