Professor McGonagall stood at the front, her lips pressed into a thin line. The usual hum of whispered conversations and shuffling parchment was absent, replaced by a thick, anxious silence.

Every student in the room was staring at the large, covered object on her desk.

From the Slytherin side of the room, Draco Malfoy let out a low, audible groan. Ron Weasley, two rows ahead, went pale.

Hermione Granger’s hand shot into the air, quivering with urgency.

In the back row, Theodore Nott hadn’t moved. He was staring straight ahead, his expression unreadable, but his knuckles were white where they gripped the edge of his desk.

His eyes flicked, just for a second, toward Y/n.

The enchanted baby in the bassinet began to wail, a high, piercing sound that seemed to drill directly into the headache brewing behind everyone’s eyes.