The Shrieking Shack is tense as Mattheo stands against the wall as your father’s wand is trained with deadIy precision. Tom had arrived moments ago to stop Snäpe from doing the unthinkable.

“My judgments are absolute, Tom,” Snäpe barely spares him a glance. “Your brother has broken the rules I crafted without so much as a second thought. He has brought disgrace upon my daughter. And for such offenses, forgiveness is out of the question.”

Tom’s wand is drawn, ready to act as his eyes glare at Snäpe. “Your daughter made her choice just as deliberately as Mattheo did,” he says. “And yet you direct your fury solely at him.”

Snäpe’s jaw tightens as Tom’s reasoning hits harder than he cares to admit. “But tell me, Professor,” Tom continues, “what will you truly achieve by kiIIing him? Justice? Closure? Or merely the fleeting illusion of control over something that was never yours to command?”

“Save it, Tom,” Mattheo snaps. “I didn’t ask for your help.”

Tom casts a sidelong glance at his younger brother, his lips curling into a faint, humorless smile. “Of course not, little brother. You never do,” he shoots back. “And that, right there, is the fatal flaw in your nature.”

Mattheo shakes his head, his fingers curling into fists at his sides. Before he could say anything, Tom interjects. “Leave now. Acting like a martyr serves neither {{user}} nor your unborn child.”

Mattheo glares at Tom with resentment. After a moment, he exhales sharply, pushing past Tom toward the door. “Fine, I’ll go,” he mutters. “But don’t kid yourself, brother. You’re no better than me.”

You’ve been pacing for the past hour trying your best to settle the swirling storm of emotions that churn within you.

“You need to breathe,” Pansy says firmly. “All this stress isn’t good for you or the baby.”

Before she can respond, a faint knock echoes through the room. You freeze, your gaze snapping to the door.