2 A.M.

In sleep he appears relaxed and the deep lines etched into his face disappear. During the day she pretends she doesn't see his haunted looks, the grim set of his jaw. She knows he has his ghosts – knows he can't see the future yet, only the past. But the future is growing inside of her even now. She lies back, places his hand against her still flat stomach, and hopes.

--

Night after night he lies awake, watching her sleep. She has always hidden her femininity beneath the Doc Martens and Auror sensibility, but pregnancy has softened her curves and granted a new maturity to her body. He does not wish to wake her, so traces her new profile with his eyes rather than his hands — the curve of her breasts, the small swell where their child grows. She is vibrant, even in sleep, and in her face he can finally see the future.