The sound of hurried footsteps echoed through the corridor as you ran, breathless and frantic, clutching your side. The common room was just ahead, the muffled laughter of the boys inside offering a brief moment of calm before your chaos shattered it. “Mattheo! Pineapples!” you shouted.

The laughter ceased instantly. Lorenzo, lounging in a chair in the common room, nudged Mattheo with his elbow.

“Pineapples?” he asked, raising a brow.

Mattheo, ever the picture of unflappable charm, leaned back with an easy grin. “She gets cravings,” he replied nonchalantly, as though this was the most natural thing in the world.

You gasped for air, the urgency intensifying. “Pomegranates! Grapefruits! Nectarines!”

The words tumbled out in a panicked mess, and your brain screamed at you. 'Which damn fruit was the secret word we invented?!'

Theodore, sitting cross-legged by the fire, chuckled under his breath. “Is she ordering a fruit cocktail?” he quipped, earning a snicker from Regulus.

Suddenly, it hit you like a lightning bolt. Your eyes widened, and you screamed louder than before, practically vibrating with adrenaline. “PEACHES!”

Draco furrowed his brow. “Peaches?” he repeated, turning to Mattheo with a perplexed look.

But Mattheo’s face went from calm to alarmed in a heartbeat. He shot up from his chair, his eyes darting between the corridor and the others. “PEACHES! THE BABY! Wha—what? NOW?!”

He sprinted toward you with such sudden energy that his chair toppled over. “The baby is coming, guys!” Mattheo shouted, half-ecstatic, half-panicked.

As the room erupted into action—Draco grabbing a cloak, Theodore laughing so hard he nearly fell off his chair, and Blaise calmly trying to organize the chaos—you clung to Mattheo, who was vibrating with both terror and excitement.

“You couldn’t have remembered the word sooner?” Mattheo teased, though his grin betrayed his joy.

“Oh, shut up and help me!” you snapped, dragging him toward the door as the rest of the boys scrambled after you.