It wasn’t supposed to happen like this.

Not quietly. Not tenderly. And definitely not with both of them watching you like you were something precious they’d accidentally let themselves want.

The safe house was cold, stone walls humming with old magic. You sat at the table, fingers curled around a teacup you hadn’t touched. Regulus stood near the window, arms crossed, jaw tight. Barty paced—always pacing—like the truth had electricity in it and he didn’t know where to put it.

You cleared your throat. “I’m late.”

Silence.

Then Barty stopped moving.

Regulus turned slowly, eyes snapping to yours. “Late,” he repeated, voice controlled to the point of breaking.

You nodded. “Very.”

Barty laughed—once, sharp and breathless. “That’s… that’s funny.” He dragged a hand through his hair. “Because we were careful. Weren’t we?”

Regulus shot him a look. “Careful doesn’t mean immune.”

You stood, suddenly nervous under the weight of their attention. “I didn’t come here to accuse either of you.”

Barty’s gaze softened first, something uncharacteristically gentle slipping through the cracks. “We’re not afraid of responsibility,” he said quietly. “Just surprised.”

Regulus stepped closer to you, close enough that you could feel the warmth of him. His hand hovered near your stomach—not touching, not yet. “There’s ancient magic involved in bonds like ours,” he murmured. “Some… outcomes aren’t linear.”

You blinked. “What does that mean?”

Barty grinned, slow and dangerous. “It means wizarding biology is weird.”

Regulus exhaled through his nose. “It means the child may not belong to just one of us.”

Your breath caught.

Barty’s hand found yours, squeezing. “Or maybe to both.”

For once, there was no rivalry in his voice. Just awe.

Regulus finally let himself touch you then, palm resting flat against your abdomen like a vow. His eyes flicked to Barty—not jealous, not angry—just steady.

“If this child exists because of us,” Regulus said, “then we will raise them together.”

Barty leaned in, pressing a kiss to your temple. “Imagine it,” he murmured. “Something we made. Something stronger than all this mess.”

You swallowed, emotions tangling tight in your chest. “You’re not scared?”

Barty laughed softly. “Terrified.”

Regulus nodded. “But we won’t run.”

three hands. One promise. And something growing in the space where darkness used to live