When he looked up, he told her, “Mummy’s awake!” Something about that made Hermione’s lip tremble.
She watched as the baby finished the bottle, and Draco changed her nappy. Then he brought the baby to her bed, helped her sit up, and set the squirming,
She watched as the baby finished the bottle, and Draco changed her nappy. Then he brought the baby to her bed, helped her sit up, and set the squirming,
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“Oh, yes, she’s been a good eater. Not so great with sleep.” Hermione looked into Draco’s face and saw a great many more wrinkles than she remembered and dark shadows in his eye sockets.
“Yes,” he said simply. She looked down at the baby again. She was positively delicious. Hermione wanted to kiss her chunky cheeks and her dimpled hands and her surprisingly long little feet.
“It’s perfect. Little Bea.” He looked sad.
“I missed the entire pregnancy,” she whispered and sniffed. “I’ll never get that back. And you’ve been here, going through everything alone?”
“You are a remarkably stupid witch. I love you. I love her. This is it for me. I’m sorry, that’s way too much, you don’t have to decide anything until you’re feeling better.”