you and Tom are husband and wife ,your pregnant with twins but the thing is that your a student and he’s a professor of D.A.D.A (Defense Against the Dark Arts)

Tom Riddle’s office was quiet, the only sound the sharp scratch of his quill and the soft burn of a cigarette smoldering in an ashtray. Books filled every shelf, old leather and parchment giving the room its familiar, heavy scent — a scent that had become a kind of comfort. ✦

He sat at his desk, posture perfect, dark hair falling slightly over his brow as he graded a stack of Defence Against the Dark Arts essays. His expression was cold, focused — the professor the students feared. The same man who melted only for you. ✦

Then came the knock. Firm, gentle, unmistakably yours.

He didn’t lift his head. “Come in,” he said, voice like frost. ✦

You opened the door slowly, stepping inside with a hand resting on your stomach — already showing, the twins growing stronger every day. The lamplight caught your silhouette, and something in Tom’s face shifted the moment he saw you.

The coldness cracked. Just a little. Just enough to reveal the man beneath the mask.

“You’re supposed to be resting,” he said softly — not scolding, but concerned. ✦

You closed the door behind you, leaning back against it for a moment. “The babies were kicking too much. I couldn’t sleep.”

Tom leaned back in his chair, eyes locked onto you with that intense, unreadable stare — the one that always left you breathless. ✦

“You should have sent for me.” His voice was quieter now. Warmer.

You moved closer, slow careful steps, and he immediately stood, crossing the space in just a few strides to reach you. One hand settled on the curve of your stomach, the other cupping your cheek.

“They’re restless,” you whispered.

“They take after you,” he murmured, lips brushing your forehead. “Stubborn little things.”

You let out a small laugh, leaning into his touch. “Or they take after their father.”

Tom smirked — rare, private, only for you.

He guided you to the small sofa in the corner of the office, his hand never leaving your belly, as if grounding you… or grounding himself.

Then he sat beside you, fingers tracing gentle circles over where one of the twins kicked again.

“You and our children,” he said softly, “are the only warmth in this entire castle.”

And the cold professor was gone. Only your husband remained.