harry's creature inheritance

a day just for us

Enrico's POV

It's been a few weeks since the babies were born — and honestly, everything still feels like a dream. The house is quiet for once, which is strange. No soft coos, no sleepy baby noises. Just peace.

Papa and Father offered to take the twins for the night — something about us needing "mate time," and how we "haven't had a full night's sleep in ages." I'm not going to lie, I was hesitant. But they reassured me. Told me we deserve a day to breathe, to reconnect. To heal.

Art and I have been doing better. So have Sev and Luc. The apologies, the tears, the raw conversations — they were painful, but needed. It's been a process, working through what happened, reminding ourselves that love doesn't mean perfection. And that healing sometimes needs space.

So here we are. A whole day. Just us four.

Time Skip

The weather is perfect — soft sunlight through the trees, the kind of warmth that hugs your skin without burning it. We've set up a little picnic near the lake. Art made sandwiches. Luc brought sparkling cider. Sev even packed a blanket and books, in case we want to read aloud like we used to.

It feels... easy. Like breathing again after holding it in too long.

Art is lying beside me, his head resting on my chest. I run my fingers through his hair and watch as Sev gently braids a section of Luc's with a small flower tucked at the end. They look peaceful, both of them. Softer than they've been in a while.

"We needed this," Art whispers, just loud enough for me to hear.

"I know," I reply, pressing a kiss to his temple. "I missed you. Even when you were right there."

His arms tighten around my waist. "I missed you too."

Across the blanket, Luc is watching us, eyes a little watery but smiling. "We hurt you both," he says quietly. "And we'll never stop making it right."

"You already started," I say, offering him a small smile. "Just... don't stop. Okay?"

Sev nods. "Never. We're learning too. Not just how to love you — but how to love you better. Kinder. Safer."

For a moment, there's silence — not the heavy kind, but the warm, full kind. Then Luc tugs me over and pulls all of us into a tangled pile of arms and limbs and soft laughter.

We lie like that for hours — talking about nothing and everything. We name the stars before the sun even sets. We eat strawberries. Art feeds me one and I nearly choke, which sends Luc into hysterics and has Sev rolling his eyes affectionately.

Later, when the light fades into twilight, we lie back and watch the sky go dark, hand in hand.

"Thank you," I whisper. "For trying. For choosing me... even when I'm scared."

"You're never too much," Sev says firmly. "None of your fears, or feelings, or past. We're here. We're not going anywhere."

Art curls against me. "We're stronger now. All of us."

Luc chuckles. "Especially after surviving newborn twins."

We laugh together — really laugh — for the first time in a while. And in that moment, everything feels lighter. Like we finally let go of a weight we didn't know we were still carrying.

Tonight is just ours.

Tomorrow, we'll go back to bottles and nappies and nighttime crying.

But for now?

We're four mates, one bond, and a blanket beneath the stars.

And we're okay.