I watched her move around the room delicately. Everything she did was delicate. The way she walked, the way she ate, the way she kissed me, and, especially, the way she placed her hands on her ever-growing stomach.
Everything she did mesmerised me. As she put a pillow into place into the crib we had just purchase, she turned around, glowing serenely.
I couldn't believe I was here. I couldn't believe she was here.
She took measured steps towards me, placing her hand on my chest—delicately, of course.
I kissed her softly, burying my hands in her uncontrollable hair. Pulling off, I stared down. "What will we name him?" I asked quietly.
Even her face, considering the question, looked delicate, like it could shatter at any moment. Ever since I found out she was with child, I was careful with her—something I'd never thought I could be with another human being.
Ingredients in potions were one thing: if you didn't cut and handle them just so, you would doom your creation before it even started to brew. I had never learned to have this same care with another person, having received none in my lifetime.
But, then again, who would have figured I'd love anyone as much as I did her? I wouldn't have.
My eyes softened as I looked at her, and she finally responded, "I was thinking William Alan. But I didn't want to tell you, thinking you might want to look at names together."
My lips curved into a rare smile. "I, on the other hand, figured you would be much more suited to name choosing than myself."
She smiled softly. "I love you, Sev," she murmured.
"I love you, Hermione," I replied. It had taken me a long time to say that, but after a few years, it seemed natural.
Her eyes brightened as she looked down again. "Feel," she said, grasping my arm gently and resting it on her stomach. He was kicking.
I looked down in wonder, whispering, "I cannot wait until May."
"Me either," she whispered back, reverently.
I rested my hand on her shoulder as we looked around the pale green room that our son would soon bring to life.
A tear slid down her cheek; I knew she could picture him already. I wrapped my arms around her from behind, and she sets her hands delicately over mine. "You hypnotise me," I confess. "I wish I could be as delicate as you."
"You are," she says. "You are."
