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He awoke in twilight, still wrapped around her. She was sleeping peacefully, her light breaths tickling the hair on the arm that served as her pillow, while his other arm lay along her side, his hand hanging down towards her belly.
She was wonderfully warm.
Pressing a kiss to a patch of her shoulder that was visible amidst her wild curls, he gently ran his hand down her belly, feeling for any hint of the bulge that would form beneath her skin. He had no idea when the bulge would start to emerge; he still didn't know much of anything about pregnancy.
They had found out about her little passenger just days before the wedding, a shock that emerged in the midst of a whirlwind of activity and nearly brought everything to a screeching halt. Still, everything had proceeded as planned, and the new secret was guarded by the Weasleys and a few other close friends as the wedding that all of Wizarding Britain had been looking forward to for months finally took place.
They didn't talk openly about the baby until the first day of the honeymoon, after they finally emerged from bed to satisfy the more decorous type of hunger. After days of being focused on the wedding, every detail of which would be discussed and debated by wizarding media across the country, they were finally able to look past it at the future that they would build together.
Which, apparently, they had already started building together.
He kissed her shoulder again, gently rubbing his fingers over her smooth skin. She was planning to buy so many pregnancy books of both the magical and Muggle varieties that they would likely have to add another wing to her library at the manor, and he had promised both her and himself that he would look through them. Until then, however, he could only wonder about when he would start to feel the changes. He wondered when she would start to grow, when he would begin to feel hints of movement beneath his hand.
It was such a startling change, one that he had refused to let himself consider possible for so long. His life had always been surrounded by so much death, from his very first years. He had been born into a war that had quickly taken his parents from him, and he had been the subject of a prophecy that caused so many more deaths. It was mostly over by the time he turned eighteen, but not completely over, as he threw himself into hunting down the remaining Death Eaters and a few more good people were lost.
His life had been shaped by death and destruction. Now, suddenly, it was being reshaped by creation, by new life.
She stirred, and he stilled his caresses, but her hand drifted down and draped over his, and he resumed the little movements.
It was a few seconds before she spoke, her voice husky from sleep. "Are you saying good morning to her before me?"
He smiled at the pronoun. They couldn't know yet, of course, that was one of the few things he did know about pregnancy. But she said that she had a hunch, and that hunch had quickly invaded his dreams and created a vision of a little girl with her wild hair and his green eyes.
"Is that a problem?" he asked, pressing his smile into her shoulder.
"No." Her fingers danced along the back of his before slipping in between them to press on her belly. "Good morning, sweetheart." He knew she wasn't addressing him, since that was one pet name that she had never used for him.
Then her shoulder nudged him backwards so that she could roll onto her back, and her eyes blinked up at him. She gave him a chaste kiss, and then a smile that suggested her thoughts were considerably less chaste. "And how would you like me to say good morning to you, husband?"
His smile widened at the title, and he felt as light as a snitch. He'd had so many titles over the years: The Boy-Who-Lived, Undesirable Number One, so many different variations of the Hero of Wizarding Britain. They seemed to come up with a new one for him every year, but this new one was unquestionably his favorite so far.
And soon he would have another new one: Father.
He leaned in, his smiling lips meeting hers, and his hand on her belly slid around to her side as he pulled her close. He loved this woman. He loved her, he loved her, he loved her. And he already loved the child within her that he hadn't yet known about for a week.
He realized that this was the true beginning. He had used to think that his real life began on his eleventh birthday, when a half-giant came barging into a hut and told him that he was a wizard. But this was a whole new start, a dawn of joy after so much grief, of life after so much death. This was when his life truly began.
He would grow into this new reality alongside his child, and his eyes would adjust to the brightness after so long in the dark. There would be clumsiness and confusion and growing pains, but he would learn the language of family and happiness.
And he would have the best study buddy that anyone could ask for.
"I love you," he whispered between kisses.
"I love you too. Now, are you going to answer the question, or should I be creative?" When he only smiled in response, she pushed him onto his back and loomed over him, and he shut his eyes and welcomed this blissful new day.