Abarax Malfoy stepped out of a long diplomatic meeting with the French Minister of Magic.Even though the Malfoys had moved and settled in Britain generations ago, they were undeniably a French family by origin, with roots buried deep in French aristocracy. Because of this, Abarax maintained strong political ties with the French Ministry—business deals, contracts, ancient alliances, favors owed and favors held.
He was adjusting his cloak when a silver-white Patronus burst through the marble corridor.
A Thestral.
Abarax frowned.Such an odd Patronus. And it belonged to an even odder man—Orion Black.
Then Orion's voice rang through the skeletal horse, clipped and emotionless, but undercut by something unmistakable:
"Come to St. Mungo's."
Abarax froze.
First—how on earth had Orion managed to send a Patronus this far to France?Second—what was with this sharp, commanding tone? Orion Black did not order him around in front of the French minister. His pride bristled—
—and then the meaning of the message finally struck him.
St. Mungo's. Urgent tone. Someone close in danger.Meena.
Meena.Meenakshi was heavily pregnant—their first child.
The blood drained from his face. His knees nearly gave out.
In the next breath, he disapparated to the French Ministry, practically throwing himself into the floo network without a single explanation to anyone. He didn't even ask St. Mungo's receptionist for directions. He simply locked onto Orion's magical signature and sprinted.
His heart slammed against his ribs when he realized where it led—the labor ward.
His sweet Meena… in labour… a full week early.
She had wanted to deliver at a muggle hospital.
Unlike Vishaka—who belonged to a magical clan—Meenakshi came from a martial lineage, a warrior family. Her people possessed strength that rivalled legends, but not magical protection. And that vulnerability terrified her.
She had argued with him just two weeks ago:
"It's our family's code, Abarax. We never put ourselves at a disadvantage. What happens if someone curses me? I can overpower any mortal—but magic? I'm helpless. If I give birth here, I'm just… mortal. A muggle."
He had finally conceded, agreeing to let her choose a muggle hospital.
But now—
A scream tore through the corridor, snapping him out of his thoughts. He shoved open the door. Orion stood outside, stiff and awkward, as if he wasn't sure whether to sit, pace, or hex the wall.
Inside, Meena lay curled in pain, sweat beading her forehead. The scent of blood, fear, and raw life hit him instantly.
He moved—only to be blocked by a healer.
"Lord Malfoy, Lady Malfoy requested not to have her pain taken away," the healer explained, half confused and half exasperated. "She said—her words, not mine—'all hardships result in beautiful things.'"
the healer said, half impressed, half bewildered.
Abarax groaned. That was painfully her.
"You idiot Abarax— the next time you get me pregnant I swear to the gods— AHHH—"
"Yes, love. I am here." He rushed to her side and took her hand.
"You are fucking late." Meenakshi glared at him between breaths.
"Push, Lady Malfoy!" the healer called.
"What do you THINK I'm doing?!" Meenakshi screamed, making Abarax snort—earning a vase to the head.
"This is all because you couldn't pull out properly!" she hissed.
The healer burst into laughter. Abarax only nodded solemnly. "That is… unfortunately true."
Three exhausting, chaotic hours later, a loud wail filled the room.
A baby boy.
Abarax barely paid him attention at first—because Meena fainted the moment it was over, and he nearly ripped the hospital apart until every healer numbed her pain and checked her twice.
Only when he was convinced she was safe did he turn to see his child.
The baby was—miraculously—calm, wrapped securely in Vishaka's arms. She rocked him gently, eyes shining with tenderness Abarax rarely saw in her.
"Look at him, Orion," Vishaka whispered. "He has her face. Just look at him… he's perfect."
Orion allowed a rare soft smile. "Our baby will look more beautiful, darling," he teased lightly.
Abarax entered then, pride glowing in every line of him. "As if. My son is obviously the most beautiful—he is living proof of our love."
"He is wrinkly and red," Orion corrected flatly.
Vishaka yanked his ear. "Shut up."
She turned to Abarax. "Is my sister all right?"
"Yes. She is sleeping." He softened. "She fought like a warrior."
Together, they slipped back into the room. As soon as the baby sensed his mother, he cried sharply, awakening her.
"Son… we do not disturb your mother's sleep like that," Abarax scolded gently, bouncing him.
"Enga… bring my son here…" Meena murmured, extending her arms.
He placed their child in her hands. She cradled him, eyes wet, lips trembling in wonder. Abarax leaned over her, pressing a kiss to her forehead.
Outside, Orion and Vishaka stepped away discussing something about "the remaining Grindelwald followers needing tracking," their voices fading down the hall.
Inside, the Malfoy family curled close—quiet, warm, peaceful.
Abarax had never felt more complete.Meenakshi had never looked more divine.And their son—so small, so utterly precious—felt like the beginning of something sacred.
Something worth every hardship.
Something worth protecting with his life.