The afternoon light streamed through the large windows of the master bedroom at Gaunt Manor, bathing the room in a golden glow. Standing in front of the window, Hestia smiled with an unusual tenderness on her pale face as she slowly caressed her rounded belly.
Her baby could be born at any moment. Her little girl. Because Hestia was absolutely certain she was going to have a girl. She could feel it in her bones; her magic told her so; she felt it in every heartbeat that accompanied her day and night.
"I'm waiting for you with such longing, my little princess…" Hestia whispered to her belly, resting her forehead against the cold windowpane. "You'll be the most perfect and beautiful witch of all."
From the center of the immense bed, surrounded by soft pillows, Flora watched her.
"What are you thinking about, Hestia?" her sister asked, her voice betraying the lethargy that comes with the end of pregnancy.
Hestia turned her head, offering a half-smile.
"I was just thinking… I'm a little anxious, I guess."
Flora nodded, understanding the feeling perfectly. She leaned back against the headboard and caressed her own belly.
"I feel exactly the same way," Flora admitted, letting out a little laugh. "I just hope my little one doesn't cause me too much pain when he decides to come out," she murmured, looking down at her belly. "You'd better behave yourself, little gentleman, or I'll get mad at you."
Hestia stepped away from the window and looked at her curiously.
"Do you have a name for him yet?"
Flora narrowed her eyes, thoughtful.
"I've thought of a few. Strong, pure names, worthy of his bloodline. But… you know how it is. In the end, the final decision rests with Aurelian."
Hestia nodded solemnly. She, too, had a mental list of beautiful, ancient names for her little girl, but she understood her place. As dictated by the oldest tradition in magical families, the Lord of the House was the one who had the right and the duty to name his heirs. And they would abide by whatever her husband decided.
Suddenly, Flora let out a groan, pressing both hands to her belly, and smiled broadly.
"Phew! She just gave me a really strong kick," Flora remarked, rubbing her belly with eyes sparkling with pride and amusement. "My son is definitely going to be someone with a lot of energy and power. Just like his father."
Hestia laughed softly. She stepped away from the window and walked with some difficulty due to her weight, approaching the bed. She plopped down heavily next to her sister, letting out a long sigh of relief as the pressure on her feet eased. Without saying a word, she reached out and intertwined her fingers with her twin's—a gesture that demonstrated the bond they'd shared for as long as she could remember.
Flora returned the squeeze and, raising an eyebrow, looked at her mischievously.
"Tell me one thing, sister… How many more babies do you think we'll give our dear Aurelian in the future?"
Hestia burst into a charming laugh, her eyes sparkling with love.
"Oh, many… so many babies. An entire army if he so desires. Aurelian told us that with the first two he'd be immensely happy, but… we both know the truth."
"Yes…" Flora continued, with a seductive smile, "that our husband simply can't resist our charms at all. He won't be able to say no to a third, or even a fourth."
They both laughed knowingly, nodding in agreement at the profound truth of her words. They turned their gaze toward a corner of the luxurious room, where two beautiful cribs made of fine wood stood, painted an elegant emerald green and adorned with silver details.
The atmosphere grew a little more intimate. Flora squeezed her sister's hand and asked in a very low voice, almost a whisper.
"What do you think our lives would be like without Aurelian, Hestia?"
Hestia's smile faded, replaced by a shadow of pain and panic. She squeezed her twin's hand tightly.
"It would be a terribly sad and empty existence," Hestia replied coldly. "Before him, everything was boring. He's the only one who truly brings color and meaning to our lives. Without him, we'd be nothing."
Flora smiled sweetly.
"Exactly. That's why our dear, perfect, and beautiful husband is ours alone. Ours—and absolutely no one else's."
A sadistic spark lit up in Hestia's eyes as she recalled the past.
"Speaking of which… Do you remember that little Hufflepuff bitch who started eyeing our man in fifth year? The one who tried to slip him a note in the library?"
Flora nodded, and a smile—devoid of any trace of the tenderness from a second ago—curved her lips.
"Oh, how could I forget, dear sister. Her screams were exquisite," Flora recalled, savoring the memory. "She begged us so much to stop the Cruciatus Curse… She cried and swore she'd never look at Aurelian again. It was perfect."
Hestia let out a little chuckle, settling herself more comfortably among the pillows.
"It was way too easy. Manipulating that fool's mind so she'd never say a word and believe she'd fallen down the stairs was the easiest thing I've ever done in my life."
The two witches looked at each other; they shared the same love, the same sadism, the same darkness, and the same unwavering devotion to the wizard they had claimed as their own.
With perfect synchrony, the Gaunt twins sighed and said at the same time.
"The things we do for love."
Laughing softly at their own joke, Hestia and Flora leaned back against the soft pillows, caressing their rounded bellies. Happy, content, and at complete peace, ready to enjoy their perfect lives as the beloved wives of their soulmate.
At the same time, far from the peaceful tranquility of the mansion, Aurelian Gaunt sat in one of the armchairs in the Minister of Magic's office.
Lord Voldemort paced back and forth across the office. He looked at his son and let out a sigh.
"Are you sure about what you're doing with all these alliances, Aurelian?"
Aurelian leaned back in his chair and smiled faintly.
"No. To be honest, I'm not," he admitted. "But it's the only viable way to truly unite wizards under a single banner. I'll have to use the threat of the Muggles as a catalyst; I need everyone to understand the danger we'll face in the coming decades. Fear is very effective for that purpose."
Lord Voldemort ran his fingers through his hair, losing his composure for a second. He was fed up with the diplomatic meetings of the past few weeks.
"The urge I've felt to simply eliminate those fools during our recent meetings has been overwhelming," Voldemort growled, scratching the bridge of his nose in irritation. "They're narrow-minded."
The Dark Lord lowered his hand, crossed the office, and looked his son straight in the eyes.
"But whatever path you choose, I'll still support you."
"I appreciate that, Dad," Aurelian replied, bowing his head slightly. "I know diplomacy isn't something you enjoy, so I really appreciate that you've stuck with me through all these meetings with…"
A pop interrupted his words.
Stinky appeared in the middle of the Minister's office. The house-elf was trembling from head to toe, his eyes wide with panic, and tugging at his ears in desperation.
"Master Aurelian!" Stinky shrieked, completely startled. "It's time, Master! Ladies Hestia and Flora have gone into labor—they're already at the hospital!"
Aurelian jumped to his feet. The chair flew backward, crashing violently into the desk. Without saying a single word, Aurelian vanished with a deafening roar.
Silence fell heavily over the office. Lord Voldemort slowly turned his head and fixed his gaze on the house-elf. Stinky let out a shriek of terror upon finding himself alone with the Dark Lord and vanished once more.
Aurelian appeared in the lobby of St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Injuries and Illnesses and completely ignored the receptionist's shouts. He raced through the hallways of the maternity ward at superhuman speed, desperately searching for the magical signature of his wives.
Suddenly, a high-pitched, pain-filled scream echoed from the end of a hallway.
Aurelian skidded to a halt in front of the door to one of the private rooms. Outside stood Alaric and Selene Carrow, the twins' parents. Aurelian barely paused to greet them with a quick, tense nod before pushing open the door and stepping inside without asking permission.
Chaos reigned in the white room.
Hestia and Flora were lying on two adjacent stretchers, covered in sweat, suffering from contractions, and screaming their husband's name at the top of their lungs. Seeing the state of the women he loved, Aurelian felt as if the world had come to a standstill. He wanted to rush straight toward them, but a medical witch stepped in his way, raising her hands.
"Sir, you can't be here—please leave the—!"
Aurelian stopped in his tracks and fixed his gaze on the witch. He didn't say a single word, but his stare exuded such murderous intent that the air in the room grew heavy. The healer turned pale all at once, looked down in terror, and immediately stepped aside, clearing the way for him.
Aurelian reached the stretchers and positioned himself right between the two of them. Without hesitation, he took one hand from each of his wives, squeezing them firmly.
"I'm here. Everything will be all right, my loves, I'm here," he whispered lovingly.
Hestia squeezed his right hand with superhuman strength, making her newly healed bones creak, and glared at him.
"Why did it take you so long, you idiot?!" Hestia snapped furiously, before letting out a scream as another contraction hit her.
Flora, from the other stretcher, squeezed his left hand. Her face was bathed in sweat and tears, but she managed to turn her head to look at him.
"What matters… is that you're here with us now," Flora whispered, breathing heavily.
The head medical witch, an older and experienced woman, stood at the foot of the stretchers.
"All right, ladies, they're almost here!" she commanded. "On the count of three, I need you to push with all your might! One, two, three, push!"
Hestia and Flora's screams filled the room. Aurelian leaned over them, completely ignoring the pain in his own hands. The twins were gripping with tremendous force, channeling all their pain into their grip, but he didn't flinch.
"You're doing great. You're the strongest witches I know—you're almost done," Aurelian kept telling them.
Seconds later—which felt like centuries to Aurelian—the piercing cry of a baby cut through the air in the room.
And almost immediately, a second, louder cry joined the first.
Aurelian felt his heart stop in his chest upon hearing them. The tension left Hestia and Flora's bodies, and they collapsed onto the pillows, exhausted, but with their eyes fixed on the medical witches.
With the utmost care, the nurses cleaned the newborns. Two tiny bundles were wrapped in green blankets and placed into the arms of Hestia and Flora, respectively.
The head medical witch breathed a sigh of relief and gave him a big smile.
"Congratulations, Lord Gaunt. They're beautiful," the woman announced. "A very strong and healthy boy and girl."
Aurelian exhaled a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. He looked down at the stretchers. Hestia and Flora were cradling the tiny bundles against their chests, crying tears of joy as they tenderly kissed their babies' foreheads. As if by magic, upon feeling their mothers' warmth and scent, the crying ceased immediately, giving way to soft babbling.
With a lump in his throat and feeling a love he never thought he was capable of holding in his heart, Aurelian leaned down. He kissed Hestia's forehead first, caressing his daughter's little head, and then kissed Flora's forehead, gazing at his son's wrinkled face.
"Thank you… thank you," Aurelian whispered to them, his voice trembling with emotion. "Thank you for giving me this gift. It's the most beautiful thing in the world."
His beautiful wives looked at him, offering a weary smile before turning all their attention, love, and affection back to the little heirs of House Gaunt.
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