Neville woke up lightly, rolling over and smiling at his still-sleeping wife. He wrapped his arm around her waist, snuggling up to her, breathing in the lingering strains of her rosemary perfume. Luna smiled, still asleep, and curled up around his arm. He moved some of her long blonde hair out of her face and left several little butterfly kisses along her neck. She opened her eyes, carefully rolling over, placing a protective hand on her swollen stomach.

"Good morning, my love." she rasped, nuzzling his chest.

"Good morning to you too, love. How are the babies?" He asked, running his hand over hers.

"One of them is poking me in the ribs, and the other is nearly the ideal birth position. Going to be sick soon-" She stopped speaking and wandlessly Summoned the rubbish bin from across the room, sitting up and retching loudly into it. Neville held her hair out of the way, rubbing her back as she hurled up the contents of her stomach. He Vanished the mess when she was done, and handed her a small glass of water. Gratefully sipping at it, she leaned into his chest, nuzzling him as he wrapped his arm around her.

"Today is the day for the Nargles to choose their new plants for the year." She commented.

"Should we go see if they'll let us watch? It'd be valuable documentation for your research." He asked, throwing the covers off and assisting his wife to stand. She immediately sank into a warrior pose, flowing into a well-practiced routine of yoga and tai chi. Neville leaned against the dresser, watching her move. Even 7 months pregnant, his wife was still graceful and more beautiful than ever.

"Yes, let's make breakfast and head out to see them." She answered. Luna used a Switching spell to transition from her nightdress to her robes. It was easier to do it that way than to struggle with her ballooned stomach. She held on to Neville as they navigated the stairs down to the kitchen, where Neville made himself the usual full English breakfast, and Luna her peanut butter and pickle toast. Her cravings hadn't been as bad as Hannah Thomas' had been, according to Dean. His wife had demanded shrimp with peanut butter and strawberries, and then burst into tears when Dean had gotten it for her. Neville smiled at the memory.

When both of them had finished their meals, they headed out to the greenhouse, where clusters of Nargles were deliberating over the plants inside. As one, they swarmed to Luna and began cooing over her pregnant stomach. She gently guided them back to their plants, moving among them and scribbling notes in her journal, documenting everything for her research project that would get her the Magizoology Mastery she'd been chasing for so long. After a while, Luna declared that she was getting a headache and needed to sit down. Neville, who had been tending other plants for his own Herbology project, helped her back inside and handed her another glass of water. He smiled. This was the life.