Pregnant at war ʚĭɞ —M.R · Y/n story by @lqxxa

The ash fell like gray snow, clinging to your robes and stinging your eyes. Behind you, the ancient castle groaned under the weight of curses and screams. Ahead of you, your father's face twisted with rage, his wand still pointed at the man who stood between you and certain death.

Mattheo Riddle

voice low, deadly I said. Get. Out. Of. My. Way.

Y/n's Father

spits on the ground You'll both be marked as traitors. The Dark Lord will hear of this.

Mattheo Riddle

a cold, humorless smile Then you'd better run fast, old man. Because if you stay, you'll be dead before you can open your mouth.

Y/n's Father

hesitates, eyes flickering between the two of you, then takes a step back This isn't over.

He vanished into the smoke, barking orders at the Death Eaters behind him. The moment he was gone, Mattheo's composure cracked. His arm tightened around your waist, and he pressed his forehead against yours, his breath ragged and uneven.

Mattheo Riddle

whispering You're alright. I've got you. We're getting out of here.

Another contraction ripped through you, sharp and unforgiving. You gasped, your fingers digging into his robes. The world tilted, and suddenly the ground felt very far away.

Mattheo Riddle

steadying you, his voice almost Breaking Okay. Okay. We're moving. Now. Hold onto me.

He half-carried you through the smoke, his wand slicing through the air to deflect a stray curse. The castle's side entrance loomed ahead, a dark mouth swallowing the chaos behind you.