Slytherin Boys x Y/N Short Stories/Reacts

Them as Overprotective Dad

Mattheo

Mattheo paced back and forth in their living room, holding their baby girl close to his chest. She had the smallest sniffle, and it had thrown him into full-blown panic mode.

"She's burning up, Y/N! She's definitely got dragon pox or something equally fatal," Mattheo exclaimed dramatically, his free hand raking through his curls.

"She has a mild fever, Mattheo," Y/N said, barely able to hold back a laugh as she prepared a bottle. "It happens. Babies get colds."

"Babies shouldn't get colds! Who do I need to hex for this?" he growled, glancing accusingly at the air itself.

Y/N rolled her eyes, walking over to him and taking their baby. "How about you relax? She'll be fine in a day or two."

Mattheo crossed his arms, his lips pressing into a thin line. "Fine, but I'm sleeping in her nursery tonight. Just in case."

"Whatever helps you sleep at night," Y/N teased, kissing his cheek.

Theodore

Theo sat on a bench at the playground, arms crossed as his two-year-old daughter toddled around. She was playing happily with another little boy who kept handing her dandelions.

Y/N nudged Theo's shoulder. "They're toddlers, Theo. It's adorable."

Theo narrowed his eyes at the boy, who giggled when their daughter kissed his cheek. "He's getting too bold. Where's his father? I need to have a word."

"Theo, they're literally two," Y/N said, laughing.

"I don't care. I don't want her growing up thinking boys can just charm her like that. It's unacceptable."

"She's her father's daughter," Y/N teased. "Good luck scaring off every boy for the rest of her life."

"I don't need luck," Theo said with a smirk. "I have Slytherin intimidation tactics."

Tom

Tom stared at their toddler, who had just accidentally exploded a vase with a burst of accidental magic. His eyes narrowed.

"She's too powerful already," he muttered. "This is going to be a problem."

"She's not a problem, Tom. She's a baby," Y/N said, picking up the giggling girl and placing her on her hip.

"She's my child, and that means she's more powerful than most wizards her age. This could make her a target." Tom crossed his arms, deep in thought.

"She's going to be fine. You're the only person in the world thinking about toddler power levels," Y/N teased.

Tom glanced at Y/N. "I'll start setting up wards. Stronger ones."

"Of course you will," Y/N said with a sigh.

Lorenzo

Enzo was on the floor next to their crawling baby boy, a cushion barricade built around him.

"Enzo, you know he needs to learn to crawl without you acting like he's in Azkaban," Y/N said, arms crossed as she observed the over-the-top protective measures.

"He fell this morning, Y/N. Did you see his face? He looked betrayed," Enzo said, adjusting one of the cushions.

"That's how babies learn," Y/N said with a laugh.

"Not my son. My son will learn how to crawl without ever knowing pain," Enzo said with conviction.

Y/N shook her head, pulling him up off the floor. "He's tougher than you think. Give him some space, love."

Draco

Draco was pacing the nursery, holding their one-year-old son as he whispered words to him.

"Say 'Father.' Come on, it's a simple word," Draco coaxed, his voice soft.

"Draco, he's going to say it when he's ready," Y/N said, leaning against the doorway with a smirk.

"But what if he says someone else's name first? Like... yours?" Draco looked horrified.

"I think I deserve it after carrying him for nine months," Y/N teased.

Draco sighed dramatically. "He's a Malfoy. It's a matter of pride."

"Then maybe stop pressuring him," Y/N said, laughing as the baby blew bubbles instead of speaking.

Blaise

Blaise frowned at the tiny stain on their daughter's new onesie, holding it up like it was offensive. "Y/N, do you know how much this costs?"

"She's a baby, Blaise. She's going to get things dirty," Y/N said, trying not to laugh as she watched him hold their toddler at arm's length to avoid getting food on his shirt.

"That doesn't mean she has to look like a commoner," Blaise said, grabbing a new onesie. "She's a Zabini. Standards matter."

"You know she's just going to get this one dirty too, right?" Y/N said with a grin.

Blaise sighed dramatically. "It's a small price to pay for class."

Regulus

Regulus sat in their child's room, his wand in hand as he cast protective charms around every corner. Their five-year-old had woken up crying about a bad dream, and Regulus had decided no shadow or monster would ever get close to his son.

"Reg, you know the dream wasn't real, right?" Y/N said, leaning against the doorframe with a fond smile.

"Maybe not, but the fear was. And I won't let him go through that again," Regulus said firmly, finishing his charms and standing.

"You're such a softie," Y/N teased, wrapping her arms around him.

"Only for him. And maybe for you," Regulus said, kissing her temple before sitting by their son's bed until he fell asleep.