The driveway stretched forever. Long enough that you had time to second-guess every life choice that led you here, which was honestly impressive. The trees lining the road were old and deliberate, like they'd been planted specifically to make visitors feel small. It worked.

Then the manor appeared.

It was massive. Not in a subtle, tasteful way either — full on sprawling estate, stone and glass and perfectly manicured gardens, the kind of place that made you wonder how many rooms were just sitting empty, collecting dust and generational trauma.

You pulled up to the front steps and killed the engine. The silence that followed was heavy, the kind that reminded you exactly how out of your depth you were. You'd done the whole childcare thing before — nannying, tutoring, the occasional overwhelmed cousin handed off to you at family gatherings. But this? Moving into Malfoy Manor? Pretending to be married to Draco Malfoy?

You grabbed your bag from the passenger seat and got out. The front door opened before you even reached it.