Lucius awoke with a groan, his stomach churning as the familiar wave of nausea hit him. He pressed a hand to his abdomen, muttering, "Crap," under his breath. The room felt like it was spinning slightly, and he could feel the bile rising in his throat. He forced himself to get out of bed, his steps unsteady as he made his way to the bathroom. His hands clutched his stomach, his temples throbbing with a dull ache. Each step sent a jolt of pain through his abdomen, as if his insides were in revolt.

Reaching the bathroom, Lucius barely made it to the toilet before he retched. The violent heaving left him gasping for air, his body trembling from the effort. He clung to the cool porcelain, his forehead resting against it as he tried to catch his breath. The nausea refused to abate, and he could feel another wave building. He groaned softly, his body feeling weak and drained. After a few minutes of dry heaving, he managed to get up and turn on the shower.

As the hot water cascaded over him, Lucius leaned against the wall, the steam rising around him. The warmth was a small comfort, soothing his tense muscles and easing the ache in his body. He closed his eyes, letting the water run over his face, hoping it would wash away the remnants of his sickness. For a brief moment, he felt a semblance of peace, the hot water enveloping him like a cocoon.

Meanwhile, Harden lay awake in bed, listening to the sound of the running shower. He could hear the faint sounds of Lucius's retching earlier, and his heart ached for his son. "My poor baby," he murmured softly, his voice tinged with worry. He turned to Abraxas, who was still half-asleep beside him, gently nudging him awake. "Abraxas, Lucius is not feeling great again."

Abraxas blinked groggily, his mind slowly registering Harden's words. "I know, love, but this is to be expected," he replied, his voice still thick with sleep. "He's reacting just like you did when you were pregnant with him."

Harden's cheeks flushed slightly at the reminder. "I wasn't that bad," he protested weakly, though he knew Abraxas was right.

A soft chuckle escaped Abraxas. "Oh, love, you were sick throughout the entire pregnancy. Morning, noon, and night. I lost count of the times you were sick."

Harden sighed, now fully awake. He got up from the bed, deciding to get ready for the day. As he entered the bathroom to wash up, Lucius emerged, looking pale and exhausted. He was dressed in cozy clothes, a loose sweater, and comfortable pants, but it did little to hide the weariness on his face. "Good morning, Father," Lucius greeted, his voice lacking its usual cheerfulness.

"Morning, son. How did you sleep?" Harden asked, trying to keep his tone light and not let his concern show too much.

"Okay," Lucius shrugged, "but I'm still feeling pretty crappy." His face was drawn, the pallor of his skin contrasting starkly against his silver-blond hair.

As Harden finished getting ready, he called out to Abraxas and Lucius, "Boys, the healer will be here soon." Abraxas took his turn in the shower, and Lucius trudged to the living room to wait. He sank into the sofa, resting his head against the back and closing his eyes, trying to stave off the lingering nausea.

A knock on the door announced the healer's arrival. She entered the living room with a warm smile, carrying her medical bag. "Good morning, Lucius. How are you feeling today?" she asked gently, noting his pale complexion.

Lucius gave a small, strained smile. "Not too great," he admitted, his hand unconsciously rubbing his stomach.

The healer nodded sympathetically. "Morning sickness can be tough, especially in the early months." She performed a quick diagnostic spell, her wand glowing softly as she moved it over Lucius's abdomen. "You're about eight weeks along, and everything looks normal," she said, showing Lucius the magical projection of his baby. "Your due date is in January."

Lucius stared at the small image, a mix of emotions playing across his face. Relief, awe, and anxiety mingled together. "Eight weeks," he repeated softly, the reality of his situation sinking in. The healer handed him a list of potions designed to help with the nausea and ensure both his and the baby's health. "Take these as prescribed, and try to eat small, frequent meals to help with the nausea," she advised before taking her leave.

Lucius exhaled deeply, his shoulders slumping in relief. The constant sickness had made him anxious, but knowing that everything was progressing normally eased some of his worries. "I think I'll go see the peacocks and maybe take a ride on my horse for a bit," he said, needing some fresh air and the soothing company of his animals.

"Okay, son. Just be careful, and don't overdo it," Abraxas said, his voice filled with concern.

"Love you, baby," Harden added, giving Lucius a comforting hug.

Lucius nodded and headed out, the cool morning air refreshing against his skin. As he walked towards the stables, he could still feel the lingering nausea, but it was less severe now. He found solace in the routine of brushing his horse and the rhythmic sway of riding. The peace of the outdoors helped clear his mind, if only for a little while.

Back inside the house, Harden and Abraxas settled by the fireplace, their faces etched with concern. "He seems to be doing a bit better today," Harden observed, though his worry was still evident.

"Yes, but it's still hard to see him like this," Abraxas agreed, his own anxiety palpable. "He doesn't have many people to talk to about all of this. Maybe we should find someone he can confide in."

Harden nodded. "Perhaps we should consider informing the Dark Lord. If he knows about Lucius's situation, he might offer additional protection and support. I just want to make sure Lucius is safe and not burdened by more stress."

Abraxas raised an eyebrow, slightly surprised by the suggestion but understanding Harden's concern. "I'll call for him then," he said, knowing that they needed to take every precaution to protect their son.

Within moments, Tom Riddle, the Dark Lord, emerged through the fireplace, his presence commanding attention. "What's the situation?" he inquired, his eyes sharp and focused.

Harden took a deep breath, explaining Lucius's situation with calm precision. "Severus Snape has refused to take responsibility for his actions. Lucius is eight weeks pregnant, and Severus didn't cast his side of the protection charm. He has left Lucius to handle everything on his own, and we're concerned about Lucius's well-being."

The Dark Lord listened intently, his expression unreadable. "I see," he said finally, his tone measured. "I will see to it that Lucius receives the support he needs. No harm will come to him or the child."

As Harden and Abraxas exchanged relieved glances, they knew that they had done what they could to protect Lucius. Now, they just needed to ensure that he felt safe and supported, surrounded by those who loved him.