The last two months of Aurelian Gaunt's life had been an extreme test of patience, love, and a deliberate disregard for his surroundings.
After the foray into the Nevada desert, Aurelian's instincts immediately warned him that something immensely large and very bad was happening in the outside world. He could feel the tension in the air. For that reason, during the first month after the incident, he made the decision to cut all ties with society. He sought no information, intercepted no messages, and devoted himself absolutely and completely to caring for his wives.
Stinky, growing increasingly anxious about the news he was receiving from the letters and packages arriving at the mansion, tried on multiple occasions to hand him copies of The Daily Prophet and The New York Ghost, which were arriving in droves. The poor elf would stand before him, trembling, trying to tell him the important things, but Aurelian was adamant; he strictly ordered him not to say a single word to him, nor show him a single headline, until further notice. Hestia and Flora's peace of mind was his only priority.
However, by the second month, the bubble of isolation he had created for himself had to burst. Aurelian finally sat down in the armchair in his suite and picked up one of the newspapers that had piled up in a stack in the corner.
To say he was surprised would be an understatement. As he read the news, his eyes nearly popped out of their sockets. Now his vacation was making headlines around the globe; they were calling him "The Savior," a true and selfless hero of magical creatures. The tabloid newspapers, fueled by Victor Van Droombeeld's relentless propaganda, showered him with praise that made no sense to him at all, hailing him as "The Next Merlin," "The Shield of the Vulnerable," and a whole host of other ridiculously silly nicknames—if anyone ever called him by one of these new nicknames, he'd be mortified.
Along with the newspapers, Stinky also handed him a mountain of letters that had arrived at the mansion during that time. There was correspondence of all kinds and from the most varied senders. One of the letters bore his father's seal, Lord Voldemort; there were chaotic missives from the Weasley twins, a letter expressing Neville's admiration, and there were also two envelopes from his best friend, Cedric Diggory. He even found, at the bottom of the pile, a letter written in the elegant handwriting of Headmaster Albus Dumbledore himself, questioning his actions as always.
Hestia and Flora, for their part, were immensely happy and elated by their husband's newfound worldwide fame. For the twins, this was nothing less than divine justice; now everyone finally knew what they had always known—that Aurelian Gaunt was indisputably the best, the most powerful, and the most perfect of all wizards.
The only thing about all that sudden fame that deeply bothered them was the avalanche of letters from all sorts of witches and fanatics writing to their husband, offering themselves for… whatever "the savior" might wish to do with them.
That correspondence didn't last even five seconds in their presence. With a wave of their hands and their eyes glowing with silent fury, the girls reduced the admirers' letters to ashes until all that remained was a black stain on the table.
Hestia and Flora turned slowly, smoke still rising from their palms, fixing their icy gaze on Aurelian.
"There are a lot of brazen bitches on the loose out there, don't you think, my love?" asked Hestia, her voice dripping with venom.
"Too many, I'd say, sister," Flora finished, crossing her arms.
Demonstrating the wisdom that characterized him, Aurelian simply nodded repeatedly, his expression very serious and without questioning a single word they said. He knew full well that contradicting his wives at that moment would be suicide.
During that time of reflection and reading, Aurelian made a final decision: it was time to return to England and put his world travels aside.
Five months of pregnancy had already passed, and the effects on Hestia and Flora were becoming more noticeable every day. Their emotions had become unpredictable and extremely volatile. Sometimes the twins were euphoric and overly happy; other times, they would burst into tears over such trivial things as the sun hiding behind a cloud, feeling sad for no apparent reason. In addition, they had many more strange cravings than before, demanding combinations of ingredients that put Stinky's creativity to the test.
But the most drastic change was their need for closeness. They didn't want Aurelian to leave their side for even a moment. If he went into another room, within a few minutes he'd feel two pairs of arms wrapping around him from behind. And Aurelian was immensely happy to be among them, showering them with kisses, affection, and all kinds of attention.
Physically, their bellies were already noticeably larger and rounder. The subtle curves of the first few weeks had transformed into undeniable evidence of the life growing inside them. They could already feel the first gentle movements of their babies—little taps from within that, every time they occurred, left Hestia and Flora on the verge of tears, filling all three of them with indescribable happiness.
With all this in mind, it was clear that the best thing to do was to return home. They needed to settle permanently on their property until their children were born. Gaunt Manor would be a much safer place and a hundred times more comfortable for Hestia and Flora.
The return to Great Britain was quick. Upon passing through the gates of Gaunt Manor, Aurelian and the twins immediately climbed the wide staircase to their room. They didn't want to run into anyone, because they didn't want anyone to notice Hestia and Flora's obvious pregnancies just yet. They wanted the news to be a surprise.
As they walked through the door of their bedroom and saw the huge bed, Hestia and Flora let out a deep sigh of satisfaction. They sank onto the soft mattress as if it were a cloud.
"By Morgana," whispered Hestia, kicking off her heels with a groan of relief. "These shoes were killing me. My feet couldn't take it another second."
Flora nodded vehemently, propping a couple of pillows behind her back.
"And my back is already starting to hurt terribly," Flora remarked, rubbing her lower back before lowering her hand to stroke her belly over the fabric of her clothes. "And to top it all off, my baby boy is already starting to bother me with his little kicks."
Hestia stopped massaging her feet and turned toward her sister, raising an eyebrow with curiosity and a touch of competitiveness.
"Your baby boy?" Hestia repeated. "How can you be so absolutely sure you're having a boy, Flora?"
Flora flashed a radiant, serene smile, all the while continuing to caress her belly.
"I just know. Call it a mother's instinct, but I know it's a boy."
Hestia let out a little chuckle and, with the same gesture, placed both hands on her own belly.
"Well, if you're having a boy, then I'll have a girl," Hestia told her sister with absolute certainty, already imagining a little witch with Aurelian's hair and her own eyes.
Leaning against the doorframe, Aurelian watched the scene in silence. A warm smile lit up his face. Seeing the fearsome Carrow twins—now Gaunts—behave in such a maternal and tender way made him immensely happy.
He approached the bed with slow steps and stopped in front of them.
"I really don't care if they're boys or girls, my darlings," Aurelian told them gently. "I'll love them exactly the same."
Hestia looked up and shook her head instantly.
"Of course it matters, Aurelian."
"You need a male heir for House Gaunt," Flora said, turning serious for a moment. "You're a Lord; it's vital for the continuity of our legacy."
Aurelian shook his head, completely dismissing the archaic rules of the aristocracy. He sat on the edge of the bed, between the two of them, and gently embraced them, drawing them close to his chest without saying another word to argue with them. Hestia and Flora accepted the embrace immediately, wrapping their arms around their husband and resting their heads on his shoulders.
They didn't say anything else either. That warm silence held all their truth; there was nothing left to discuss. They loved each other deeply; they were a family, and at the end of the day, that was the only thing that truly mattered.
The next morning, the atmosphere in the mansion's grand hall was one of anticipation.
Lord Voldemort was seated in his favorite armchair. Tom Gaunt looked toward the door, waiting. His son had sent him an urgent message that very morning telling him he had something of the utmost importance to share, forcing him to cancel his meetings at the Ministry.
Beside him, illuminating the room with her pale glow, was Elaine.
Aurelian had summoned her—he also had to tell her that very important thing—and the spectral form of his beloved was floating around the room, browsing the new books on the shelves while bombarding Tom with questions about his son's recent vacation and how he was doing at work.
Voldemort watched her float back and forth. Seeing the energy and sparkle in the eyes of the woman he loved, a genuine smile spread across the lips of the fearsome Dark Lord.
Elaine, with her keen senses, noticed his gaze. She turned toward him and smiled back, a dazzling smile full of mischief.
Caught red-handed, Voldemort's pale cheeks flushed with an unusual blush; the Dark Lord quickly looked away, feigning a cough to cover it up.
Elaine let out a soft chuckle and floated until she was hovering right beside him.
"It's always so amusing to see the great and fearsome Lord Voldemort act so shy," Elaine teased, gently caressing his cheek—though he felt only an icy breeze.
At that moment, the living room door opened.
Aurelian entered first, stopping in the center of the rug. He cleared his throat, drawing both of their attention.
"Father, Mother… I asked you to be here because I have something very important to tell you."
Maintaining an air of mystery, Aurelian took a step to the side and held out his hand. Hestia and Flora entered through the door. The twins had left their tight-fitting robes behind, wearing beautiful, loose-fitting dresses that couldn't hide the pronounced curve of their five-month-old bellies.
Aurelian stood behind his wives and wrapped his arms around their waists, resting his hands right on their bellies.
"Mom… Dad…" said Aurelian, with a smile he couldn't—and didn't want to—wipe from his face. "We're expecting some beautiful babies."
The silence in the room lasted barely a second.
Elaine brought her hands to her face. Transparent tears began to stream from her eyes, and she sobbed with pure joy. She floated quickly toward them, enveloping them in her light.
"Oh, my boy! This is absolutely fantastic news!" exclaimed Elaine, crying and laughing at the same time. "I wish you the very best of luck—you're going to be wonderful parents!"
The woman turned her head to look at Tom, who had remained completely frozen in his armchair, unable to utter a word.
"Well, Tommy?" Elaine asked him, calling him by that old, sweet nickname that only she was allowed to use in the whole world. "Don't you think this is wonderful news?"
Voldemort blinked slowly, snapping out of his stupor. He braced himself on the armrests and slowly rose from the sofa. He walked over until he was standing in front of his son and daughters-in-law.
"I'm so happy for you, Aurelian," Voldemort said in a hoarse voice. "And I know for certain that you'll be a much better father than I ever was."
Voldemort let out a weary sigh. He looked Elaine in the eyes, then turned his gaze back to his son and the girls standing beside him. Suddenly, as if the news of his future grandchildren had broken down his last defenses, the Dark Lord allowed himself to be simply Tom.
"I… I'm not used to this," Tom began, in an unusually vulnerable tone. "For most of my life, I felt terribly empty. I didn't understand love; I didn't understand attachment. Until I met your mother, Elaine, and something inside me changed."
Voldemort clenched his jaw, feeling the weight of his own sins.
"But then fear and ambition blinded me. I abandoned her and you. And when I did, I felt even emptier and desperately alone. I was a monster. I wasn't a good father—I wasn't even a good person…" Tom paused, looked Aurelian in the eyes, and his expression filled with pride. "But today, seeing you here, building your own family, I feel immensely proud to see that you, my son, have become someone so much better than I am."
Elaine clapped softly in the air, her face glowing with emotion. She looked at Aurelian and nodded fervently.
"Listen to your father, my son. Live in the moment, enjoy your family, and don't worry about the future. Just be happy."
Aurelian smiled broadly, feeling a lump in his throat. When his father had these rare but intense moments in which he let down the mask of Lord Voldemort and revealed his true self, it made him happy. It proved to him that Tom Riddle did indeed have a heart, no matter how deeply he tried to hide it from the world.
Without hesitation, Aurelian put his arms around Hestia and Flora's shoulders, and they walked together toward their parents, closing the distance between them.
The rest of the day passed peacefully. The fearsome Lord Voldemort, the relentless Aurelian Gaunt, the deadly Carrow sisters, and the spirit of Elaine chatted for hours in the living room, laughing, planning the babies' futures, and forgetting everything else.
For that day, they were just a family.
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