runs a hand through his hair, staring at Y/N like she’s just asked him to commit a felony Strawberries and marshmallow. At midnight. Y/N.

doesn’t look up from her toast, slathering another layer of hot sauce She’s growing a human, Mattheo. Let her have her crimes.

pinches the bridge of his nose, voice strained Crimes. She said crimes. Pans, that’s the third slice.

takes a dramatic bite, eyes sparkling And I’d do it again.

quietly, from his armchair, fork still halfway to his mouth The house-elf just sent a Patronus. It says the kitchen is smoking.

curled beside him, one hand protectively over her own belly, grinning That’s your wife’s orange slice, remember? I’d check the stove.

under his breath I’m going to need a larger Manor.

lounging in the doorway, holding a slightly singed tea towel I saved the kettle. You’re welcome. Also, Y/N, there’s no marshmallow left. The Niffler got into the pantry again.