SUN & MOON - Luna & Theo (HP)

Lysander was with their eccentric neighbor—the one Theo had dubbed their "crazy neighbor lady." Though Luna had always found a strange sort of comfort in the neighbor's quirky ways, Theo only raised an eyebrow, making a habit of his good-natured jabs. But today, they had the house to themselves.

He whistled softly as he moved around the kitchen, his usual calm and reserved demeanor giving way to something more relaxed, even playful. She watched, leaning against the counter, captivated by the sight of him in his morning routine. He poured batter onto the skillet, adding a practiced flick of his wrist, forming heart-shaped pancakes with neat precision. Fresh blueberries were waiting in a bowl nearby, ready to be sprinkled into the batter, and the smell of coffee and warm vanilla filled the room. She couldn't help but marvel at how such a simple act—breakfast—could feel like a quiet, intimate ritual.

"Heart-shaped pancakes, huh?" she teased, her eyes sparkling. "Didn't know you were such a romantic."

He turned to her with a smile, a slight blush coloring his cheeks. "There's a lot you don't know about me yet," he said, dropping the blueberries in with a flourish. "For instance, did you know I'm practically a culinary genius?"

She laughed, a light, melodic sound that made him pause just to watch her. "I think you've kept that a secret," she said, walking over and stealing a blueberry straight from his hand. She held his gaze for a moment, feeling the familiar spark that always passed between them.

They took their seats at the table, where Theo had gone to the trouble of setting out cloth napkins and flowers he'd picked from the garden that morning. He placed the plate before her, drizzling syrup over the pancakes in a careful, criss-crossing pattern, and added a sprig of mint as a final touch. The entire scene felt like something out of a dream, and she felt a rush of warmth that she knew was love, plain and true.

She looked up at him with a soft smile, and her heart swelled. "Thank you, my love," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Anything for you," he replied, his voice deep with affection. They ate slowly, savoring each bite and lingering over the richness of the flavors, but even more, the tenderness shared in the small glances, the brief touches across the table. For a while, they didn't speak, content to share in the quiet.

After a time, he reached across, brushing his thumb over the back of her hand. "I could get used to this," he murmured, his gaze steady and full of promise.

She tilted her head, her eyes never leaving his. "You mean heart-shaped pancakes every morning?"

He chuckled, his fingers tracing small circles on her wrist. "Yes, and you. Especially you."

They lingered at the table long after breakfast was finished, talking in low voices about everything and nothing. They laughed over silly memories, shared hushed secrets, and made plans that were both wild and ordinary, all woven into the quiet intimacy of the morning.

Eventually, he rose and pulled her gently to her feet, leading her to the window. The sunlight poured in, casting them both in a warm glow. He wrapped his arms around her from behind, resting his chin on her shoulder as they watched the morning unfold outside. The world felt distant, almost insignificant compared to the moment they were sharing.

"Stay here with me," he whispered, his voice low, a hint of vulnerability slipping through. "Like this."

She leaned back into him, closing her eyes and absorbing the warmth of his embrace. "Always, Theo," she promised.

He had something else in mind. With a smirk, he scooped her into his arms, carrying her from the kitchen and settling them both onto the plush sofa in the living room. He sat her down gently in his lap, wrapping his arms around her waist as he began to rock her, a subtle rhythm that made her heart race.

She gazed down at him, her eyes filled with warmth and desire. "Is this what you need, my love?" she asked, voice soft and teasing.

"Every inch of you, darling," he murmured, his hands running along her back, tracing patterns that sent shivers down her spine.

Smiling, she slowly began to undress, letting each piece of clothing fall with an air of intimacy, giving him a private show that left him breathless. She then turned to him, reaching for his shirt, unbuttoning it one slow button at a time, brushing her fingers across his skin as she went. The quiet anticipation built between them, thickening the air.

When she finally settled back onto his lap, she felt him ready, waiting just for her. She eased herself down, taking her time, savoring the way they fit together so perfectly. Their movements were slow, deliberate, each one laced with the kind of love and passion they had learned to build over time. He kissed her shoulder, trailing a line of warmth from her neck down to her back, filling her senses completely.

He slid his hands down to her thighs, guiding her legs around his own, pulling her even closer. She began to move in time with him, her rhythm steady but filled with growing urgency. His hands found their way to her, his thumb tracing over her sensitive spot with unrelenting tenderness, sending wave after wave of pleasure coursing through her until she was undone in his arms, trembling as she cried out his name.

But she wasn't finished; she felt an insistent need to stay connected to him, her love only deepening with each touch. Her movements quickened as she continued to ride him, her fingers threading through his hair, her kisses leaving a trail along his jawline. Theo met her pace, his own need mirroring hers, and together they built toward a shared release, each movement binding them closer.

Hermione stumbled through the fireplace, her mind clouded with a mixture of desperation and confusion, her thoughts a frantic blur. She barely registered the familiar surroundings before her gaze fell upon them on the sofa, locked in an intimate embrace .

His hands were on Luna, his fingers teasingly grazing her breasts, and she was leaning back against him, her movements quickening as she rode him with abandon. The room, which had been filled only with the sounds of their passion, suddenly went silent as Hermione's horrified gasp pierced the air.

"Oh my God!" Hermione exclaimed, frozen in shock.

His head snapped up, his expression shifting instantly from surprise to pure rage. "Get out, Granger!" he bellowed, his voice sharp, slicing through the tension.

Hermione stammered, her face flushed. "I'm so, so sorry," she mumbled, stumbling backward, her eyes wide with embarrassment as she fumbled her way out, tripping over her own feet in her haste to escape.

"How can we help you, Mimi?" she asked, her voice gentle and unbothered as she remained naked on top of him, her tone as calm as ever.

Hermione quickly looked away, swallowing hard. "I—I'm sorry… I didn't know where else to go," she admitted, her voice a shaky whisper, thick with vulnerability. "I just… needed someone to talk to."

He groaned, clearly more exasperated than sympathetic. "Granger, I'm starting to think you might have a thing for voyeurism. But if you insist on staying, at least turn around," he muttered, arching an eyebrow at her.

Mortified, Hermione mumbled an apology, her cheeks blazing with embarrassment, and hurried into the kitchen, needing a moment to compose herself. She took a few steadying breaths, the lingering sounds of Theo and her laughter drifting in from the living room, leaving her feeling both awkward and oddly comforted by their presence.

She appeared moments later, now wrapped in a soft robe, her expression calm and understanding as she found Hermione sitting at the kitchen table, hands clenched and shoulders slumped. Gently, she took a seat beside her, resting a comforting hand over Hermione's.

"What's wrong, Mimi?" Her voice was a gentle invitation, her clear blue eyes filled with warmth and concern.

Hermione's gaze fell to the table, her voice breaking as she whispered, "Luna, something is so wrong with me—something's… broken." She swallowed, forcing herself to continue. "I… I slept with Draco, right after he dropped a severed head in my fireplace. And the worst part?" She clenched her fists tighter, a dark flush creeping up her neck. "The worst part is that his… his violence, his intensity, it turns me on. I wanted him right there, in that moment, with all the horror and chaos around us. How could I be that… twisted?"

Her voice cracked, heavy with shame and confusion, as she finally dared to look at Luna, her eyes brimming with vulnerability. "Babe, I don't even know myself anymore."

Her gaze remained gentle and unwavering as she listened, allowing Hermione the space to release every tormented thought. Finally, she reached out, pulling Hermione into a soft, steady embrace, grounding her with warmth and quiet acceptance.

"Oh, Mimi," she murmured, stroking her friend's hair with delicate fingers. "You're not broken. You're human, and you're hurting. Trauma… it doesn't play by rules or fit into neat little boxes. Sometimes, it pushes us to strange, messy places we can't always understand. What you're feeling doesn't make you bad or wrong. It just makes you… here, struggling, like any of us would."

Hermione drew back slightly, searching her face as her words slowly sank in. "But it feels so… dark. Like I've crossed some line I can't come back from."

She shook her head, her eyes never leaving Hermione's. "You're allowed to feel what you feel, Mimi. It doesn't define you. Desire and trauma often get tangled together in ways that don't always make sense. That darkness? It doesn't own you, no matter how it feels right now."

Hermione let out a shaky breath, her shoulders relaxing as her words softened the edges of her guilt. "I just… I don't want him to see me as weak. I want to be strong. But then I find myself drawn to the side of him that's so… powerful, so raw. It's like he knows the parts of me I try to keep hidden."

She offered a small smile, her hand still resting on Hermione's. "Sometimes, the people we love the most see us more clearly than we see ourselves. Draco sees you—all of you—and maybe that's why it feels so intense. He loves your strength, and he understands your darkness. Let him in, but don't let it drown you. And know that I'm here, always, no matter where this journey takes you."

Hermione nodded, her throat tight, though her words began to settle the chaos inside her. A tentative calm replaced the storm of self-doubt as she breathed in her friend's quiet strength.

" But what if I can't fix it?" she whispered, her voice small, her tears soaking into her robe. "What if this darkness never goes away?"

She tightened her embrace, smoothing Hermione's hair in gentle strokes. "You don't have to fix it all at once, or even on your own," she murmured, her voice like a soothing balm. "You have people who love you and want to help you through this. That includes Draco. He's right there, Hermione—let him in. Let him understand what's going on inside you. He loves you, just as you are. He'll understand."

Hermione swallowed, absorbing her words as her hand held tightly to her friend's. She let out a deep breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding, the shame and confusion loosening their grip. "I don't know what I'd do without you," she managed, her voice thick with gratitude.

She smiled, brushing a tear from Hermione's cheek. "We're all here for you, Mimi. You don't have to face this alone—not now, not ever."

They sat in silence for a moment, Hermione's breathing gradually steadying as she clung to her reassuring presence. Finally, she pulled back, wiping her eyes and offering her a small, grateful smile. "I'll talk to Draco… I'll try to let him in."

"Good," she replied, her expression soft but full of encouragement. "And remember, just take it one step at a time. Healing isn't a straight path. It winds and twists, but it doesn't mean you're lost. We're here to walk with you."

Hermione squeezed her hand. "Thank you, babe. I don't know how you do it—always knowing what to say."

Her gaze turned thoughtful, her eyes drifting momentarily as if recalling something profound yet unspoken. "It's easy to see beauty and strength in others," she said softly. "Sometimes, it just takes a friend to remind you of it within yourself."

For the first time in weeks, she felt a glimmer of peace.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

They stood in the living room, sharing a knowing smirk as they teased Hermione for her unexpected entrance and her apparent voyeur tendencies as she hurried out.

He wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her close. "Now, where were we, my love?" he murmured, his voice a low, enticing rumble. His hands slipped to her hips, pressing her gently against him. "I wasn't quite finished with you earlier," he whispered, a spark of mischief in his eyes. "And I fully intend to feel you come on my cock again."

Her cheeks flushed as she bit her lip, glancing up at him with a shy smile. "I want you to do the other thing," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.

He raised an eyebrow, a teasing smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "What other thing, my love?" he asked, his curiosity piqued.

She hesitated, her gaze dropping to the floor. "When you… you know," she stammered, feeling a wave of embarrassment wash over her.

He leaned closer, his eyes locking onto hers with intensity. "I don't know, sweet girl. You need to tell me exactly what you need. I promise I'll give you anything," he said softly, encouraging her.

She bit her lip, still shy. "It's just... embarrassing," she admitted, her heart racing.

He shook his head gently. "It's not embarrassing at all. Come here, show me then."

Taking a deep breath, she stepped closer, feeling a rush of confidence as she reached for his hands. She placed them firmly on her bum, looking into his eyes to gauge his reaction. "Like this," she said, a shy smile breaking through as she felt the warmth of his touch.

She gazed up at him, her cheeks flushed with a mix of shyness and desire. "This is what I want," she said softly.

His eyes darkened with intensity as he placed one of her legs on his hip, his fingers deftly tracing the curve of her body. With a teasing smirk, he reached around and gently inserted a finger into her ass, watching her reaction closely. She gasped, her breath hitching at the unexpected sensation.

In one fluid motion, he pressed her against the wall, lifting both her legs onto his shoulders. "Stay there, my love," he commanded, his voice low and possessive. "I'm going to fuck you a little bit, okay?"

"Yes, please," she replied breathlessly, her body responding eagerly to his every touch.

With one swift thrust, he slid his cock inside her, the sensation heightened by her lingering wetness. He began to fuck her at a brutal pace, each thrust sending waves of pleasure coursing through her body.

"Be a good girl for me and get on your knees," he instructed, his tone firm yet enticing.

She sank to her knees, looking up at him with anticipation. She opened her mouth wide, ready to take him in. 

He grinned down at her, reveling in the sight of her submission as he began to fuck her mouth, the rhythm quickening as he lost himself in the pleasure of the moment. "That's it, my love. Get on all fours for me."

She positioned herself on her forearms, her backside raised in anticipation.

He smirked, a glint of mischief in his eyes. "Perfect. Let me see you."

With a teasing pull, he separated her cheeks, a playful gesture that sent shivers down her spine.

"Just relax," he said, his voice low and soothing as he gently teased her, letting her adjust to the sensation.

She let out a soft whimper, excitement coursing through her as he entered her slowly, allowing her to savor the moment.

"That's my good girl," he encouraged, maintaining a steady rhythm. "Show me that little trick you do."

"I... I can't," she gasped, feeling the pressure build. "Love, please… It's too much."

" Shh, baby," he whispered, his pace increasing slightly. "Just let go for me. I want to see you squirt all over my floor."

With each thrust, the tension within her grew, her body responding eagerly to him. The moment built until she finally let go, a wave of pleasure washing over her as she surrendered to the experience.

Just as he felt the tension building, a loud crack echoed through the room.

Blaise's voice came through the Floo network, a mix of urgency and annoyance. "Theo! I need your help—immediately!"

He groaned dramatically, rolling his eyes. "Can a man not have an orgasm in his own home without being interrupted? I mean, honestly, Blaise!"

He levitated her onto the bed, giving her a playful wink. "I'll be right back after the call. Try not to miss me too much!"

She grinned, pretending to pout. "Hurry back, my love! Who knows how long I can keep my enthusiasm in check without you!"

He smirked, shaking his head as he walked toward the Floo. "If you keep teasing me like that, I might just send Blaise straight to Azkaban!"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Theo stepped into the nursery, the soft creaking of the door barely breaking the tranquil silence that enveloped the room. The gentle hum of a lullaby filled the air, mixing with the faint sounds of the baby's soft breaths. The dim light cast a warm, golden glow over the walls adorned with whimsical stars and moons, creating a haven of peace. Luna sat in the rocking chair, her soft humming merging with the gentle swaying of the chair, cradling their baby, Lysander, against her chest. The sight of her, radiating warmth and love, wrapped around him like a soothing balm.

He watched her for a moment, the way her eyes sparkled with tenderness as she looked down at their child, the light illuminating the delicate features of both mother and son. It was a scene that encapsulated everything he adored—everything he wanted to protect.

"I'm sorry, my moon," Theo murmured, stepping forward, his heart heavy with regret and uncertainty.

Luna looked up from the crib, her expression shifting from serene contentment to one of concern. "Are you alright, my sun?" she asked gently, her voice soft and melodic, like a whisper in a quiet forest.

He took a deep breath, feeling the weight of the world settle heavily on his shoulders. His gaze dropped to the floor, the wooden planks cool beneath his feet. "Ginny left Blaise," he said, his tone laced with sorrow. "It's a mess. I just needed to tell you."

Luna's brow furrowed, her heart aching for her friend. "Oh, Theo… I'm so sorry. What happened?" She shifted in her seat, her eyes never leaving his face, searching for the answers that lay hidden behind his guarded expression.

Theo looked at her, vulnerability etched into his face as if the weight of his insecurities threatened to crush him. "Will you ever leave me?" he asked, a tremor of fear lacing his voice, the words barely escaping his lips as if saying them aloud made them all the more real.

Luna shook her head gently, her eyes filled with sincerity and a warmth that enveloped him like a comforting embrace. "I'm not planning to." she replied, her voice steady, like a beacon guiding him through the storm of his doubts.

His brow furrowed with concern, the lines on his forehead deepening as he searched her gaze for reassurance. "Why? Why are you okay with the violence?" he questioned, his heart racing at the thought of what his past entailed. The memories of his darker moments clawed at his conscience, a constant reminder of the man he struggled to reconcile with.

Her expression grew serious as she looked at him, her blue eyes reflecting the depth of understanding she had cultivated through her own experiences. "You weren't the only one who had a rough childhood, my moon. People cope with their pain in different ways. We all have our scars, and we learn to live with them as best we can." Her words resonated in the air, weaving a tapestry of shared suffering and resilience that connected them in ways he hadn't fully appreciated before.

His gaze softened, though the weight of his past still lingered in his eyes, shadows of doubt threatening to cloud his judgment. "Are you scared of me?" he asked quietly, the vulnerability in his voice cutting through the tension that hung between them like a fragile thread.

She met his eyes steadily, unwavering and resolute. "Never," she replied, her voice firm and calm, each syllable laced with conviction. She took his hand gently, intertwining her fingers with his, grounding him in the moment.

"Theo," she continued, her tone softening, "I know you've done terrible things." The acknowledgment hung in the air, a silent testament to the complexities of their lives.

He looked away, guilt etched on his face as the memories of his actions surged back—moments he wished he could erase. "And I know you have too," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper, a weighty truth that loomed large in the space between them.

She nodded, a flicker of understanding passing through her expression. "We both have. But that doesn't change how I feel about you." The sincerity in her words pierced through his defenses, igniting a flicker of hope within him.

He tightened his embrace around her as her voice quivered with the weight of a painful memory. "I had an abusive grandfather," she confessed, her eyes reflecting a mixture of sorrow and strength. "He often beat my grandmother. I saw the scars he left on her, and I hated him for it. It's shaped so much of who I am today."

He felt his heart ache at her words, the vulnerability in her confession pulling at the strings of his own past. He looked into her eyes, searching for a way to express the empathy that swelled within him. "I'm sorry you went through that," he murmured, his voice low and steady, a soothing balm to the rawness of her pain. "But it's one of the many reasons why I cherish you so much. You've turned your pain into strength, and that's something I deeply respect."

As he gently stroked her hair, he could feel the tension in her shoulders begin to ease, even if just slightly. She drew a deep breath, her gaze distant as she recalled the tumultuous events of her childhood. "He was extremely violent. I was just a child, Theo. I saw everything. The way he would rage and the helplessness of my grandmother—it was a nightmare I couldn't escape from."

He held her tighter, wishing he could shield her from those memories, those haunting images that lingered in the corners of her mind. "What you witnessed was unimaginable," he said softly, his heart aching for the little girl she once was. "You didn't deserve any of that."

She swallowed hard, her voice trembling slightly but steadying as she pressed on, "One day, I decided that things had to change. I was tired of feeling powerless. I couldn't stand by and watch anymore." The fire in her eyes sparked to life, a flicker of fierce determination illuminating her face. "So, he's buried under my family house now. Mother Earth is punishing him for his sins."

A silence fell between them, thick with the weight of her confession. His mind raced, grappling with the reality of her words. He had always known she was strong, but this revelation—her taking justice into her own hands—revealed a depth of resolve he hadn't fully understood until now. "You took matters into your own hands," he whispered in awe, trying to comprehend the gravity of what she had done. "That's… that's incredible and terrifying all at once."

She nodded slowly, her expression serious. "I've lived with that decision ever since. It wasn't about revenge; it was about breaking a cycle of violence. I wanted to ensure no one would ever suffer like my grandmother did, that my family would be free from that darkness. Justice is the truth in action, a stand against the wrongs we've endured."

His heart swelled with admiration for her courage. "You are a force of nature, my love," he said, his voice filled with conviction. "What you did took incredible strength. It shows that you refuse to be a victim of your circumstances. You've transformed your pain into something powerful."

"But it hasn't been easy," she admitted, her gaze dropping as the weight of her past washed over her. "I've had to live with the guilt and the fear of what I did. It's like I'm haunted by it—every day, I question whether I made the right choice."

He gently lifted her chin, forcing her to meet his gaze. "You didn't just act out of anger; you acted out of love—for your grandmother, for yourself. You fought for what you believed was right. That's something to be proud of, not ashamed."

Tears glistened in her eyes, reflecting a cocktail of emotions that swirled within her. "Sometimes, I wonder if I'm just as bad as him for what I did," she confessed, her voice barely above a whisper. "I wanted to be free of him, to make sure he could never hurt anyone again, but it cost me a piece of my innocence."

His heart broke for her, and he pulled her closer, enveloping her in his warmth. "You were a child, love. You did what you felt was necessary to protect those you loved. That's not evil; that's humanity in its rawest form. We all have our demons to confront, but it's how we rise above them that defines us."

She took a shaky breath, leaning into him, comforted by his presence. "I wish it was that simple," she murmured. "Sometimes I feel like I'm still trapped in that darkness, even after all this time."

"Then let me be your light," he replied softly, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. "You don't have to carry this burden alone. I'm here, and I will always be here for you. We can face the darkness together."

Luna looked up at him, a flicker of hope igniting in her heart. "You really mean that?" she asked, her voice filled with vulnerability.

"Absolutely," he assured her, his eyes earnest. "You don't have to fight your battles alone anymore. Let me share the weight with you."

The corners of her mouth lifted into a small, grateful smile, a glimmer of relief shining through the lingering shadows of her past. "Thank you, love. You have no idea how much that means to me."

"I'd do anything for you," he replied, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to her forehead, sealing his promise to stand by her side. "You are not defined by your past; you are defined by your strength and the love you carry within you."

As they stood there, wrapped in each other's arms, a sense of understanding passed between them, an unspoken bond solidified in shared pain and healing. They both had scars—wounds that ran deep—but together, they were learning to navigate the complexities of their lives, drawing strength from one another.

"I think I'm finally ready to let go of some of this pain," she whispered, a mixture of trepidation and hope coloring her tone. "With you by my side, I feel like I can start to heal."

"Then let's do it together," he said, his voice firm and reassuring. "One step at a time. We'll build a future that honors your past but doesn't let it control us. I believe in you, my love."

"And I believe in us," she added, her smile growing wider, a beacon of hope that pierced through the darkness. "Thank you for being my anchor."

As they stood together, enveloped in a warm embrace, they both felt a profound sense of connection—a reminder that, while the road ahead might be challenging, they would walk it hand in hand, forging a path towards healing and love.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He stood in the garden, a scowl etched deep into his face as he begrudgingly tended to the motley assortment of magical creatures Luna had insisted on keeping. His hands clutched a bucket of raw meat for the hippogriff—a creature he absolutely loathed.

The wretched beast stood at a distance, watching him with sharp, intelligent eyes that only heightened his irritation. "Why in Merlin's name did I agree to this?" he muttered under his breath. "Of all the ways to express my undying devotion to Luna, why did it have to involve this —a temperamental, overgrown bird-horse hybrid that demands a bow before it even considers not mauling me to death?"

He sighed heavily, the weight of his regret pressing down on him as he set the bucket on the ground. The hippogriff snorted, as if mocking his inner turmoil, and he glared at it. "You're lucky she loves you, you oversized chicken," he grumbled. "Because if it were up to me, you'd be in a nice, safe enclosure at the Magical Menagerie."

Approaching the creature with the hesitant bow it required, he felt a pang of bitterness. How had he gone from being a respected, dangerous man—once feared and revered—to standing in a garden, humbling himself before a beast that clearly despised him as much as he despised it?

And the hippogriff wasn't even the worst of it. His gaze flicked toward the flowerbeds, where a group of fairies flitted about, giggling in high-pitched voices as they tangled themselves in Luna's prized moonflowers. "Bloody fairies," he muttered, running a hand through his hair. "Why do we even have fairies? Do they do anything besides ruin perfectly good plants and mock me?"

He thought of all the other creatures they'd amassed over the years: the mischievous bowtruckles that had scratched up his desk, the puffskeins that had nested in his shoes, and—of course—the infernal gnomes that Luna had insisted on "rehabilitating" rather than disposing of like any sane person would. Their home wasn't a garden; it was a full-blown magical zoo.

"A muggle zoo would have been so much easier," Theo grumbled to himself. "At least with penguins or elephants, I wouldn't have to worry about getting cursed, bitten, or mocked by tiny winged nightmares."

But even as he grumbled, he knew the real reason for all of this chaos. It was Luna. It was always Luna. He'd do anything for her, no matter how absurd or inconvenient. If she wanted a hippogriff, he'd buy her a hippogriff. If she wanted a garden filled with magical creatures, he'd turn their estate into a magical Ark.

Because she was Luna. And for all her strange quirks and impossible requests, she was the light in his life.

As he finally managed to feed the hippogriff, who deigned to accept his offering with an air of disdain, he sighed and muttered, "This is love, isn't it? Sacrificing your dignity, your sanity, and your peace of mind for someone who probably doesn't even realize you hate the things she loves."

Lysander's little feet pattered across the stone pathway, his small, messy face lit up with excitement as he came running up the steps to the house. Hewas standing by the door, leaning against the frame with a quiet smile, watching his son's joyful approach. The little boy had just returned from the unpredictable chaos of the neighbor lady's house, where art supplies, glitter, and all sorts of oddities had likely made their mark on him in the most untraditional ways. Lysander's arms were flailing as he ran, the remnants of his excitement spilling over in the way his eyes sparkled.

"Dada!" Lysander squealed, his voice high-pitched with delight as he threw himself into his arms.

He laughed, holding his son tight, the warmth of his small body grounding him in the moment. "Hello, love," he said softly, pressing a kiss to Lysander's messy curls. "Did you have fun today?"

Lysander grinned and pulled away just enough to look up at his father, his tiny hands tugging at the sleeve of his shirt as he proudly declared, "Painting!"

He raised an eyebrow, amused. "Painting, huh? Let's see what you made, then."

Lysander's face lit up as he pulled a small piece of paper from his bag, his little hands clumsily pulling it free to reveal his "masterpiece." It was... well, abstract. At best. There were splashes of color, smears of what could have been animals or shapes, but it was hard to say for sure. Yet, as he studied it, he couldn't help but smile with immense pride. "It is beautiful," he said, placing a gentle kiss on Lysander's forehead. "More artistic each time. You're a genius, you know that?"

Lysander beamed, clearly pleased with his father's praise, his eyes sparkling in a way that made his heart swell. "Genius!" the little boy giggled, repeating the word as if he understood its significance, even though he probably didn't quite yet. But Theo had no doubt that his son was destined for greatness in his own way. Art, magic, or even muggle life—it didn't matter. He had an unshakable brilliance.

At that moment, Luna appeared from around the corner of the house, the soft swish of her dress catching in the breeze as she carefully cradled their son's baby sister in her arms, rocking her gently. She smiled warmly as she approached, her eyes flickering with quiet affection for both Theo and Lysander. Her gaze softened, and without thinking, she bent down and carefully placed their son on the ground, so she could stand taller. The moment Lysander was on his feet, he immediately reached for Luna, pulling her into his arms with an intensity that seemed to crackle between them.

Their lips met in a kiss—passionate, deep, and filled with longing. The world outside faded for a moment. The pressure of the day, the weight of the responsibilities they carried as parents, the ever-present pull of the future—it all seemed to vanish in that single, brief moment.

She pulled back just enough to breathe, her forehead resting against his. "Missed us?" she whispered, her voice thick with affection and the undeniable bond between them.

He exhaled slowly, keeping her close, his hands tracing the small, delicate curve of her back. "I don't like it when he's not home," he murmured, his voice low but sincere. "It just doesn't feel right without him."

She smiled softly, the light from the late afternoon sun casting a warm glow on her face. "You're not the only one," she said, her fingers gently brushing the side of his jaw. "I think I could spend every moment of my life with the two of you and never get tired of it."

His eyes softened as he looked down at her, feeling a wave of love that had become all-consuming, the rhythm of their lives settled into a peaceful harmony—until, as always, her mind began to wander into the realm of ideas that, while well-meaning, could be... a bit overwhelming.

Her eyes drifted toward the garden, her gaze thoughtful. "You know," she began, her voice playful yet serious, "we should get another…"

He immediately cut her off, his hand firmly grasping her arm, pulling her attention back to him. "No! No more anything." He was half-joking, half-serious, though the hint of panic in his tone was unmistakable. He looked over at their garden, which had already become an overgrown jungle of magical creatures, the plants themselves almost struggling to maintain some semblance of order amongst the chaos. "I need a normal animal. A cat. A dog. A horse—anything would be good, anything but magical."

She raised an eyebrow, her lips quirking into a teasing smile. "Okay, then—a mammal," she said, as though she were conceding to his demands.

He took a deep breath and closed his eyes as though preparing for battle. "Do not get any new ideas, woman!" His voice was a mix of affection and frustration. "No more exotic creatures or magical chaos. I swear, the next time you get the idea to bring something home, it's going straight to the Magical Menagerie. I can't take any more of this madness!"

She simply smiled, her eyes twinkling with mischief as she leaned in to kiss him on the cheek. "Don't worry, love. I'll just get another rabbit instead. You know, the one that multiplies overnight and turns your entire study into a jungle of fur?"

He groaned, exasperated but ultimately charmed by her irrepressible nature. "I swear, you do this on purpose, don't you? Push me to my breaking point with your perfect little plans."

She laughed softly, pulling away with the kind of grace that made his heart skip a beat. She reached over and ruffled Lysander's hair, her fingers lingering gently on his tiny head. "Just imagine," she said, her voice sweet with the promise of chaos, "how much more fun we could have with just a few more creatures. Our little family wouldn't be the same without the unexpected."

He shook his head with a dramatic sigh, his hands finding his pockets as he looked down at his son. "You know what? You're impossible," he muttered, but the smile on his face was undeniable. "Fine, you win. One more. But that's it. No more. I'm putting my foot down."

Her laughter echoed through the garden as he shook his head, trying his best to hide the affection that was growing in his chest. It didn't matter how many more creatures they had. It didn't matter how chaotic their world became. Because as long as it was with her—and with Lysander—they could handle anything.

Hestood in the garden, staring in disbelief at the construction workers who were busily hammering away at the far corner of the yard the next day. The sounds of drilling and machinery echoed in the morning air. There were blueprints scattered across the ground, tools everywhere, and— a pool?

Theo's chest tightened, a mixture of disbelief and frustration building up inside him. Why would Luna listen to him? What had he possibly done to deserve this? And yet—he knew what he'd done. That wasn't the point, though, was it? He hadn't meant to unleash a whirlwind of chaos by making that one silly request the night before. But here he was, standing in the middle of a construction site, and it was all his fault.

Before he could stop himself, he threw his hands in the air, his voice roaring through the air.

"LUNA!" he shouted, his words seeming to rattle the very sky above.

It took a few moments before she appeared—Luna, always unflappable, her presence as calm as ever, even as the chaos of construction continued around them. She walked toward him slowly, as though this were the most normal thing in the world .

He could barely breathe as he watched her approach. "What did you do?" he demanded, the words escaping in a strained breath. His hands were trembling, though he tried to mask it.

She didn't flinch. She merely raised an eyebrow, her expression oddly satisfied, as if she had just solved a riddle he couldn't quite understand.

"You said you needed normal animals," she began, her tone too casual for his liking. "So I'm getting you a guinea pig."

He blinked in confusion, his eyes narrowing. "A guinea pig? Luna, that's… that's a normal animal?"

She smiled, almost as if she had been waiting for the exact moment to drop the bombshell. "Well… it's a big one." She paused for dramatic effect, letting the words hang in the air between them.

His gaze shot to her, his frustration mixing with disbelief. He couldn't even process what she was saying. "What—what are you talking about?"

Her smile widened, and with a mischievous gleam in her eye, she said, "It's a capybara."

His world seemed to tilt. "A capybara ?!" he repeated, as though saying it would make it more real, but it only made it worse. He looked at the construction workers, who were now measuring something, building what appeared to be an entire enclosure at the far end of the garden. They looked... serious. And his mind kept coming back to one question—why? "You're kidding, right? This is some kind of joke?"

She placed her hands on her hips, giving him a look that was equal parts amused and exasperated. "Shut up, Theodore," she said firmly. "You will feed her every day. Her name is Rocio, and you will like it."

His mouth hung open for a moment, and his hands clenched into fists at his sides. This was his punishment . He knew it. "Is this my punishment, then? A capybara named Rocio?" He was too stunned to be anything but dramatic.

Her eyes gleamed with a calm, almost eerie certainty as she raised an eyebrow. "Be glad I don't like hippos that much."

Theo could only stare at her. A capybara. In their garden. With a pool. What did he even do to deserve this?

"Luna…" he began, but the words faltered. "I… I'm going to need some time to process this. A capybara ."

She shrugged, clearly unconcerned by his shock. "It'll be fine, Rocio will love it here. She'll fit right in with the rest of our zoo."

"A zoo…" he muttered, feeling his sanity begin to fray at the edges. The world seemed to be tilting around him, and he couldn't keep up. But somehow, Luna stood there—unmoved, unbothered by the absurdity of it all. He glanced at the construction workers again, who were now adding a small bridge over a pond, and his heart sank.

"Are you serious?" he asked, looking back at Luna, his voice full of desperation.

She leaned in, her lips brushing against his ear as she whispered, "You'll love her. Capybaras are very cuddly. Now, go. Feed your new friend."

Theo shook his head in disbelief, his chest tight with a mixture of affection for Luna, frustration, and sheer bewilderment. "You're absolutely insane, Luna." He couldn't keep the dramatic tone out of his voice even if he tried. "But… fine. I'll feed the beast. Just… don't bring home any more surprises. Please."

She simply grinned, her eyes sparkling with mischievous joy. "Deal, Theodore. But if I find any more guinea pigs in my future…" she trailed off, leaving him with a quiet, teasing threat.

He exhaled loudly, watching as she turned to leave him to his new duties. The construction workers were still hard at work, and in the distance, a soft bleat from the backyard filled the air. A capybara. He was about to become the proud father of a capybara.

And deep down, Theo knew one thing for certain—there was no escaping Luna's whims. No matter how hard he tried.