Lestrange Journey Part 1

Chapter 5

At eight months pregnant, Rodolphus felt like his entire body was a battlefield—heavy, restless, and on edge. Every nerve was raw, every emotion amplified until even the smallest thing set him off like a powder keg. Just last week, he’d snapped at Rabastan for nothing more than passing too close—and then crumbled into tears, caught off guard by the flood of his own feelings.

Through it all, Harry was the one constant—steady, patient, unwavering. But today? The discomfort clawed at Rodolphus with a relentless bite, and beneath it simmered a gnawing anxiety that wouldn’t ease.

When the summons came, Harry’s stomach twisted in dread. This wasn’t going to be good.

“Harry, help me up,” Rodolphus’s voice was strained, almost brittle.

Without hesitation, Harry was there, his hands firm and gentle as he lifted Rodolphus to his feet. They moved together toward the dining room, Rodolphus leaning into Harry’s warmth as if drawing strength from it, and Harry responded with a quiet, protective arm around his shoulders.

At the head of the room, Rabastan nodded respectfully to Tom. “My Lord.”

Tom’s sharp eyes flicked to Rodolphus, then he gestured toward the seats. “First, sit down. And Rodolphus—I must say, your wand work last week was impeccable.”

Rodolphus forced a tight smile, but the words felt hollow. “Fine,” he muttered.

Harry caught the flicker of exhaustion in his eyes but kept his worry buried as the meeting rolled on. The room buzzed with conversation, but a heavy tension coiled beneath it all.

Then, like a spark to tinder, a careless Death Eater brushed past Rodolphus. The man barely froze before Rodolphus’s voice sliced through the room like a whip.

“Will you watch where you’re going? It’s not hard to use your damn eyes.”

The room fell into a stunned silence.

There was no mistaking the sharp edge in Rodolphus’s tone—no tolerance left for intrusion, not now. His boundaries were fierce, carved out by the relentless storm inside him. The pregnancy had shattered his usual calm, exposing every ounce of his irritation, vulnerability, and raw nerve.

Harry’s gaze locked onto him, fierce with concern. He could see the tempest raging just beneath the surface, and the question hammered in his chest—how could he stop it before it swallowed Rodolphus whole?