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𝕿hroughout the next couple of months, the icy, winter temperatures slowly melted into the season of Spring. Trees, plants and flowers started to bud, grow and bloom, a delightedness spreading across my chest in knowledge that not even war could halt the season of new beginnings and fresh starts.
Majority of the time, I don't really end up leaving the cottage unless it's to Newt's, Lyall's or the Potter's with easy access from the connected floo network. Remus mostly went out to do whatever we needed to do, occasionally allowing me to come with him to the village to breathe some fresh air — and laugh at the way I was waddling besides him, meaning he had to also take much slower, much smaller steps to stay in line with me.
It became apparent that baby Potter-Black would indeed be a boy, also baby Longbottom too would be a boy — the way I has guessed it would be. Regulus and James were more prepared and more thrilled day by day, visiting the growing baby of their own in St Mungos often, marked for the end of July to be ready to go home.
During one of the Potter family Sunday roast dinners, Sirius and Scarlette had broken the news that they had mutually decided they wanted a private, quiet wedding soon, much to all of our happiness. Though James was rather pissed when he learned Scarlette not only hadn't got a ring yet, but they had just been cuddling one morning in bed and decided there and then, that was what they wanted to do. I found it to be just Sirius and Scarlette, them wholly.
The wedding was to be at the end of the month of May we were now entering, they had agreed they would delay a few weeks considering I was already nearing two weeks overdue, and they wanted to treasure the first couple of weeks the cub would eventually arrive — they both had wanted them to be there for the wedding too despite they would only be a newborn. If they had it their way, the Prongslet, as they decided to call James and Regulus', would be there too.
It appeared Remus and I were having a May baby after all.
Frowning, I surrendered on trying to find a comfortable position to sleep in, shuffling upwards, Remus snoring lightly on his back, hand sprawled across his rising and falling chest. It was almost laughable, he struggled to get to sleep succeeding the full moon a few nights prior, contrasted to me who could effortlessly succumb to slumber, yet fail to stay asleep when dawn began to wake.
I couldn't disturb him now. Not when he's balancing the Order, his lycanthropy and caring for us, added on to the heightened ambivalent emotions clawing at his chest with no remorse.
Cupping my largely swollen bump, sigh rippling through my throat, I managed to spy the time on the clock appointed to the beside. Four forty am. The growing discomfort prodding resulted me to stiffen up, nose wrinkling in hopes the rustling hadn't woken the Gryffindor besides me.
My cheeks flushed, echoing waters of the lyrical rhyme crashing in my ears, twisting a nervousness nevertheless excitement, the whisper slipping from my lips,
