Everyone looks half-asleep, except Mattheo, who is pacing. “Listen up. Family meeting,” Mattheo says, suddenly stopping and clapping his hands together.

Theodore groans and lets his head fall against the back of his chair. “It’s too early for your dramatic speeches, Mattheo.”

“Without {{user}}?” Draco asks. “She hates being left out of these.”

Mattheo waves a hand. “Yeah, yeah, I know. But this one's about her. We need to talk about her pregnancy.”

Tom raises an eyebrow. “Oh, I wanna go first. I thought you two were gonna stop after one kid.”

“I was hoping two,” Pansy chuckles.

“Three,” Theodore offers with a shrug, clearly still half-asleep.

“Four,” Lorenzo says through a mouthful of scone, smirking as he leans back.

Mattheo closes his eyes for a moment, rubbing his temples. “This is not about how many children we’re having, thank you very much.”

“Could’ve fooled me,” Blaise murmurs under his breath.

Mattheo exhales. “Anyway. We’ve officially entered the third trimester. That glorious, magical time where {{user}} stops sleeping comfortably, can’t stand the smell of eggs, and hates everyone — especially me.”

There’s a quiet, knowing pause.

“When she’s uncomfortable… we all are,” Mattheo continues, scanning the room. “And trust me, she is uncomfortable.”

“The third trimester is when {{user}} gets a little…” he trails off, letting the silence hang.

“Scary?” Draco suggests cautiously.

“Mean?” Theodore whispers.

“Nasty?” Regulus offers from his corner near the fireplace, sipping tea like he’s above it all.

Mattheo sighs. “Yes. All of the above. So… until further notice, whenever she asks you something, just say yes. Got it?”

There’s a mix of nods, reluctant grunts, and one audible “ugh” from Tom.

“Even if she’s clearly wrong?” Draco asks.

“Especially if she’s clearly wrong,” Mattheo answers immediately.

You suddenly appear, wrapped in a blanket and rubbing one eye, with your hair messy. You pause when you see everyone sitting in a suspicious silence.

“Morning… what’s going on?” you ask, blinking at the unexpected sight.

“Yes!” Blaise says, a little too fast, sitting bolt upright.

You frown. “Yes what?”

“Yes… we’re all very happy to see you,” Draco says quickly, shooting Blaise a 'what the hell was that?' look.

“What was all that about?” you ask, stepping further into the room.

“Just Draco being Draco,” Regulus replies smoothly.

Mattheo walks over to you, brushing your hair back gently. “How are you feeling, honey?”

You sigh, pressing your hand against your lower back. “Like I wrestled a hippogriff in my sleep, my ankles are the size of small pumpkins, and if one more person breathes too loud, I might hex them.”

A tense silence follows.

“No breathing,” Lorenzo whispers to Theodore.

Mattheo pulls you into a careful hug, rubbing your back. “Do you want anything? Tea? Breakfast? A castle of pillows? Someone banished?”

You tilt your head. “Actually… I do want tea.”

“Yes,” says everyone in unison.

You blink at them. “Okay… What kind of cult did I just walk into?”

Draco fumbles. “It’s not a cult. It’s… a support group. For you.”

“A very supportive group,” Tom adds, smirking.

You narrow your eyes, then glance at Mattheo. “What exactly did you tell them?”

Mattheo smiles sweetly. “Only the truth. That you’re the most beautiful, strong, terrifying woman in the world, and we all love you very much.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Terrifying?”

“Gloriously terrifying,” Mattheo corrects quickly.

You pause, then yawn. “Flatter me more and I might not hex you.”

“I love when she threatens us,” Regulus says, sipping his tea again.

You glance around the room, then sigh and shake your head. “You’re all insane.”

Mattheo kisses your forehead. “And you married the most insane one.”