Unexpected Hex

Lucius and Narcissa rushed through the dimly lit halls of Malfoy Manor, their robes hastily thrown over their nightclothes, their slipper's barely making a sound against the grand marble floors.

Lucius lifted his wand high, the soft glow of Lumos flickering eerily against the walls, casting long shadows as they moved.

The manor was unnervingly silent—too silent.

A heavy tension hung in the air, thick and suffocating, as if the very foundation of the estate was holding its breath.

They turned a corner, approaching Hera's room—and stopped abruptly at the sight before them.

Severus stood outside the door.

His posture was rigid, his dark robes billowing slightly from his hurried movements, but his **face—his expression—**was what made Narcissa's heart drop.

There was no usual sneer, no sharp-witted remark, no composed mask of indifference.

There was only solemnity.

Grief.

A knowing dread curled in her stomach.

She swallowed, her voice soft, hesitant, almost afraid to ask.

"...Severus... did she...?"

Severus's black eyes flickered toward her, dull, tired.

And then, slowly—he nodded.

"She lost the baby."

A sharp, strangled gasp left Narcissa's lips.

Her hand shot up to cover her mouth, her blue eyes shimmering with unshed tears as she staggered slightly, the weight of the words crashing over her like a tidal wave.

Lucius clenched his jaw tightly, his usual pristine composure fracturing ever so slightly as his fingers curled into a fist.

A child. Tom and Hera's child. Gone.

The air in the corridor felt heavier.

The loss clung to them like a specter.

Narcissa's throat felt tight, her voice barely above a whisper.

"...How is he?"

Severus turned toward the door briefly, as if debating how to answer.

Finally, after a long pause, he spoke.

"Tom hasn't left her side."

A quiet silence stretched between them.

Then—Severus exhaled, the sound barely audible, almost reluctant.

"...And I doubt he ever will."

His words hung heavy between them, sinking deep into the already suffocating silence.

Severus dragged a hand through his hair, his usual cold composure cracking beneath the weight of what had transpired.

"I sent word to the Minister." His voice was low, weary. "He needed to know what happened."

Narcissa and Lucius remained silent, their grief too raw, too heavy to express in words.

Severus leaned against the wall, tilting his head back, his eyes closing briefly before opening again—dark, hollow.

"I've known Molly for years," he muttered, voice barely above a whisper. "She was always warm, a devoted mother... fiercely protective. And yet... to snap like this? To use an Unforgivable Curse on a minor?"