your his wife

in the early summers morning of Tinworth, Cornwall, the warm sun shines through the curtains of Shell cottage

you stir slightly before your eyes flutter open and you find your husband just looking at you with the same kind eyes you fell for all those years ago

the bedroom door softly creaks open softly revealing your 3 year old son Thomas ‘Tom’ Arthur Weasley, standing in the doorway “C’mere then” you say to the young boy, who climbs into your bed and sits inbetween you and his farther

“Did you sleep well” Bill ask softly, as he brushes some of his hair from his own eyes. The little boy nods and gently grabs your hand