Con Amore : with love
'First comes love, then comes marriage, then comes baby in a carriage!'
Such an annoying little children's rhyme. Really, whoever had first thought it up deserved a particularly nasty hex put upon them – maybe never-ending crotch rot, if there was a spell for such a thing. She wasn't even sure how the rhyme had come to mind in the first place but come to mind it had and worse yet, it had stuck there, repeating in a sing-song, never-ending loop.
Even worse was the fact that it had thrown the rest of her thoughts for a loop as well. Her and Sirius weren't fully made up, not yet, but they were slowly warming to the thought of romance between them. She was in love and now he'd accepted he was to – they just hadn't both said it yet.
As if that wasn't stressful enough, now she had thoughts of marrying the man and popping out pretty little Black heirs.
Come to think of it, maybe that crotch-rot spell would be better sent his way. Sure as hell would make those thoughts null and void, Diana thought mischievously already turning in the direction of the library.
