She skips by his side, chattering and giggling, as merry as can be even at six months pregnant. Typical Luna. He's focused on driving the triplet pram and therefore isn't listening fully to what she is saying, but she doesn't mind. She never minds: she knows he cares for what she has to say and that normally he will listen for hours to whatever she wants to talk about, but when driving the children's pram he will not.
Bell and Bee are both sleeping peacefully, but Teddy is looking up at the both of them with adoration, all smiles. He smiles back at his little cousin and is rewarded by a happy giggle and the boy's hair turning a sharp, pale blonde.
The sun is shining brightly from the late summer sky above them, the gravel crunching beneath the pram wheel, the basket on his wife's arm creaking from its own weight and the rocking it endures from her constant movements.
He listens to her chatter, looks at his children, and for a moment he fears waking up - for surely this is only a beautiful dream.