She stared.
"Well? What do you think?"
She turned her pale blue gaze to her fiancé, and smiled. "I love the idea," she murmured, reaching for his hand. He intertwined their fingers gently, his smile as blinding as the lightning outside the window.
"On our honeymoon?" he suggested. "I've seen some marvelous artists in California, and I want one so badly, it seems like a perfect time."
She nodded. "Yeah, I think so, too."
He pulled her arm around his shoulders and snuggled into her side, his head resting on her chest. She tightened her hold on him, tugging him closer. "I love you," he said. He traced the pattern of her dress on her knee, and she squeezed his other hand.
"Love you, too, Teddy," she whispered. She rested her head on his, letting her eyes fall closed.
Teddy stared at the piece of paper on his lap. I'll have you, was written in elegant calligraphy, done by Albus, who was always good at pureblooded typography, which he learned by reading old letters to and from the Black family that they'd found in the attic. He would spent hours copying the text when he was younger.
He smiled to himself. "I'll have you, my love, forever and always?"
"Yes," Victoire breathed, and his smile grew wider.