It had been a very long week.  Akiva worried about Dreogan, she worried about Sasha, she worried about Adon and everything else.  She was trying really hard to keep it up, but she wasn’t even feeling well herself, and she was just drained!   

Frankly, Akiva was unable to ignore what was going on any longer.  Whatever was wrong with her magic was just… overwhelming most of her daily tasks.  Sometimes she would get these huge bursts of magic, where she couldn’t do anything because whenever she tried to use it, and then there were moments where her magic was so weak… she couldn’t understand it.  It was frustrating, particularly when tasks needed to get done, particularly in the library, and she was just getting so tired recently!  And her back was bothering her for some reason, whenever she was climbing up and down the ladders.

She had never had these problems before.  Everything seemed to be going so wrong, and on top of everything else, she could never decide if her headaches were because of or before whatever happened to be going on.  March was not turning into her favorite month – as much as she was trying to keep up, she was feeling a little worn down and stressed, so she thought maybe it was a good idea to get a check-up.  If something was wrong with her magic, it was probably affecting the rest of her life, and that meant she had to go to the source: she needed to get taken care of by the people that new their magical maladies.

So, after a quick check in with her superior, Akiva was wrote a quick owl to Dree, told him she wasn’t feeling well (very true)and that she would be at home and waiting for him by the time he got out.  So, she took the floo – which was bothering her even more than usual, to St. Mungo’s. 

That appointment had been short.

When she got home, she checked the house.  It appeared Sasha was out, though Baldur was assuredly home, as he and Lady tromped toward the door – Gordon lazing about, perked his ears, probably innately aware no one was supposed to be home at this point.  The rest of the house was quiet, outside of the tapping of dog nails on wood, and Kiv sighed – it was nice to be alone for a few minutes.  She bent her side a little to give Baldur a pat and then headed straight toward the kitchen.  Lady trotted after her, bouncing around her feet, and tripped Akiva up, causing her to cuss, immediately followed by an apology – as though she could offend the dog, but she did give her a little extra love, ruffling Lady’s ears, which, if there were any hard feelings, would have been gone after the loving gesture. 

Calling once again, just to ensure the house was really empty, Akiva heard nothing – when she glanced at the clock, she reasoned Sasha was probably at a class- I t was too late in the afternoon for him to be at the barn. She was glad he was busy for his own sake, but right now… when she walked into the kitchen, she couldn’t even think of what she was going to make.  She couldn’t keep her mind in one place long enough, and thus, decided – not for the first time in the past week or so – leftovers were the best options. 

The other best option?  Settling herself on the couch.  Lady hopped up next to her, laid her head on Akiva’s lap – she always knew.  Akiva leaned back into the folds of the comfy couch and sighed heavily.  She felt so overwhelmed, and without much warning, it all started with that tingling sensation behind her eyes and all of a sudden she was crying.  She wasn’t sure if it was because she was happy, overwhelmed, scared, or a mix of everything. 

Dreogan had finally resumed productive behaviours at work (which consisted of actually sitting at a desk for more than thirty minutes at a time without owling St. Mungos or walking the three city blocks away from the Ministry in order to call Jacoba to ensure Adon was alright).

That was, until he became the recipient of an owl with a quickly scrolled line from Akiva. She was not feeling well.

Dreogan had wondered -- she seemed nauseous and a bit irritable; still sweet, but frustrated more easily. He had thought, perhaps, that the stress of Adon's injury had been wearing on her as it had on him and the rest of the family. Or perhaps overexerting herself with caring for Sasha and work and him and . . .

Really, she was doing too much.

After the owl, there was no prayer of any productive work being accomplished, so, at 3:45, he headed out, swinging by Ho-Ho Gourmet for some regular Chinese, and taking home some sweet and sour chicken with pineapple. He felt a little guilty. It wasn't her favourite, but it was his. And Sasha had said it was one of his favourite. Though perhaps that was just the boy's attempt to be agreeable in all things. They were working on that.

Dree couldn't buy her shrimp. He just couldn't buy shellfish. It felt, well . . . unclean. It wasn't kashrut. And while Akiva was generally good at keeping kashrut laws, she allowed an occasional indulgence. Dreogan wished he could. . .

He made up for it with extra fortune cookies and a diet coke, which Akiva had been craving more and more recently.

A lot. In the middle of the night, incessantly. Again, Dreogan had supposed that this was because she had wanted to stay up late nights at Mungo's with him. Or because she was so tired from the late nights that she needed the boost in the day. Akiva was not generally careless about her health. . .

The more Dreogan began to think about it, the more he began to worry. There were any number of things it could have been. Even with that magic-ennervating disease that was going around . . . Perhaps it was some Muggle sickness like, what did they call it? Virgo. No, cancer.

By the time Dreogan got home, he was nearly pale with anxiety. He tucked the takeout bag under his arm as he wrestled with the keys and turned it quickly, stepping in. Skipping his customary greeting of "I'm home!" Dreogan looked about to find Akiva sitting in an exhausted heap on the couch.

Crying.

Oh, God. He felt a knot in his throat. ". . . Kiv . . ." he said softly, putting the bag of food down on the floor and moving over to sit next to her on the couch. He sat next to her, shifting her so she could rest on his shoulder and, wrapping an arm around her, kissed the top of her head. "I'm home."

He waited a few moments more before asking, "What's wrong?"

Akiva never felt like herself when she was crying.  It was such a foreign feeling, considering she did so sparingly, if at all, on a normal basis.  It was just… she couldn’t help it.  As soon as she started to think and analyze and wonder how it was all going to come together and then how everyone else was going to react, she had just… started!  And she couldn’t stop. 

Every time she tried, she ended up choking on a pocket of air or sniffling – the false stop – before erupting again.  Lady was decent moral support, licking her hand when it strayed down into her lap and pushing her warm, fuzzy body against Akiva’s leg.  She just hoped she could get a hold of herself before anyone got home – particularly if Sasha got home before Dreogan… that would be something to explain, though he’d probably slink upstairs immediately, only one of the rare good things about his tendency to avoid all negative feelings. 

So, when the door opened, Akiva felt like disappearing into the seat cushions.  Steps were soft, so it could have been either of them really, and she kept her head down, trying to avoid eye contact, in case it were Sasha.  But, then, the unmistakable smell of Chinese food hit her – and actually almost made her head swim. For some reason, it smelled so much stronger than usual.  She didn’t know if it was good or bad, but it was certainly overwhelming. 

If she couldn’t even enjoy that… well, she buried her head deeper in her hands.  She knew it was Dree by this point, especially after he said her name – soft and concerned – and she heard the thud of the food on the floor.  She could feel Lady’s head lift up and then the couch shift, she was going to go inspect, no surprise, and Dree took her spot. 

He gently maneuvered her so she could be cuddled up against his side, which she appreciated.  His arm was around her shoulder and his chin was resting against her forehead, a small press of his lips to the top of her head as a greeting.  She didn’t look up, but managed to murmur a strained, “hi,” placing one hand on his chest, gripping at the fabric.  She liked him in blue, she thought with bleary eyes, and whimpered as he asked what was wrong. 

It was just like the flood gates had been opened all over again.  “I’m sorry,” she sobbed, tightening her grip on his shirt, not really sure what to say.  She knew that this wasn’t what they had planned, and somehow felt culpable for this, like she had thrown it all off herself, “I’m so sorry…”

More alarming than the tears was the apology. Akiva had a way for apologising for silly things that didn't really matter -- leaving the refrigerator door open more than five seconds, pulling away from a hug when she needed to check on something in the oven, shifting her body when her arm was falling asleep in the middle of the night . . .

But this seemed to matter.

He just had no idea what this was.

But, he did know she couldn't be to blame. Not intentionally. Still, it made his throat constrict a little, for fear -- wondering what she was about to say; nothing to do with Adon, he prayed -- and in an overwhelming wash of worry for his fiancee.

"Shh," he said, pulling her closer and running a finger along her cheek. He felt the tears and shifted to reach into his suit pocket for his handkerchief. "Here," he whispere, offering it to her. More audibly, though still in a very soft, very low tone, he asked, "What's wrong?"

Taking his handkerchief, Akiva gently wiped her eyes and her nose.  She couldn’t believe she was blubbering like this, all red and puffy with painful sinuses and tear ducts.  It felt like she could not possibly cry another tear, but there were definitely some hiding back there, she knew it.  Just the way he touched her and caressed her cheek, it was so sweet.

She almost felt like crying all over again just because of that.  But, she tried to reign herself in, sniffling here and there, but really doing her best to avoid bursting out into tears.  It was enough to make her hiccup a little, which she knew meant she could not touch her wand until they were done.  Whatever the case, it was still in her bag anyway, that was dropped near the door.  She hadn’t bothered to grab it. 
 
The question was enough to throw her for a loop again, though, and she whimpered slightly, clutching onto the hankie with a grip that could have ripped the thing in two.  She tried very hard not to though, and sniffled before another body shaking hiccup rocked her body. 

She avoided looking at him, only looking at the hankie in her hands in her lap.  Even though she was curled up against him, she couldn’t bear to look him in the face. With another choked, dry sob, Kiv wiped her eyes again, almost trying to lose her voice in the fabric, “I’m pregnant.”

Watching her cry, Dreogan felt his throat constrict. Akiva was perhaps the only individual who wouldn't judge him for crying -- and what was more, crying because she was crying -- but that didn't make it acceptable.

He cleared his throat and moved his hand beneath her hair, running his thumb across the nape of her neck reassuringly. "Oh, Kiva," he murmured quietly as she tried to keep from sobbing. He felt her body shake with one hiccup, then two. "I love you. . ."

She pulled away, causing his brow to knit in concern and his throat, once more, to tighten up. He tried to give an encouraging smile, but it was tempered by the fear of what she might tell him. There were so many things. Cancer, complications from the attack late last year that were just manifesting themselves, something to do with Adon . . . or Sasha. . . but he'd never seen her this--

"I'm pregnant," she managed in a choked sob.

That had not been what he was expecting. Or, from the ways she'd teased at the topic earlier, the delivery he'd anticipated once that news arrived.

Instinctively, Dree's hand moved from behind her neck to curl low around her belly, his fingers now spreading protectively. He didn't feel ready, but he could become ready. A child would be such a blessing, and Kiva would be such a fantastic mother. She spoke so lovingly of her goddaughter, Sarah.

Then why was she crying?

Breath hitching as he settled on the only possible explanation, he asked in a shaking, tight voice, "Is the baby healthy?"

Even in the worst circumstances, Akiva had never imagined delivering news like this… like this! It was supposed to be happy – it was happy – and she was crying and apologizing like she had killed someone.  This was nothing like that. 

She had always imagined that she would be ecstatic and she would need to be the one reassuring Dree that it would be okay – that they would be okay – but she was feeling so… out of whack! Like this wasn’t happening – it must have been a dream.  She tried to pinch her own knee, it was surely happening.  Akiva Katz could not have asked for a better future husband though, and leaning into him, Akiva savored feeling his arm around her and the warmth his body offered. 

He was comforting.  Everything about him was comforting.  She could disappear in his arms. 

But, he wasn’t saying anything.  She had delivered the most important news she could even imagine she could deliver at this point in their lives and he wasn’t saying anything.  It made her heart beat against her rib cage – she could feel it in her head and in her legs – like her pulse was so strong and so fast…

And then he did it.  He reached around and spread his hand over her stomach. In a moment, her hand was covering his.  She found the spaces between his splayed fingers and put hers there.  Ten very differently sized fingers over the for-now-flat plane of her stomach.  She instantly felt better. Like there was some strength in that, and Akiva nuzzled his neck, she felt so comfortable and safe

There were no more tears right now, and she let out a deep sigh.  Just having the moment.  His question made her curious for a moment, and then instantly worried, just… horrified, she didn’t know!  Frowning, she finally looked up at him.  “I… I think so!” her lip quivered a little. 

“I…” here it came, the real big explanation, “I wasn’t feeling well, and you know my magic has been out of sorts… so I went, just to see about a spell or something, maybe I just… accidentally casted something that messed me up… but, the mediwitch just laughed when I told her everything.  All she had to do was get these crystals out… I – I don’t really know what she did, but it was really fast… and she told me. I,” she looked toward her purse, “she gave me the name of another healer, private – sees women. I’m supposed to owl soon….”

She used her free hand to run it over her face; that was a lot.  “Are you okay?” she finally asked, looking at him, straight in the eyes.  “I know it’s not what we talked about… what we planned… Are you – is this – okay?”

He felt her relax in his arms and her hand joined his. It was the reassurance he needed -- that everything would be alright. Dreogan gave a little smile at this, shifting his fingers over her stomach, wanting to, somehow, hold all of her at once. He closed his eyes, resting his cheek against her forehead until she lurched suddenly, anxiously.

"I. . . I think so!"

Frowning, Dreogan pulled away slightly in order to look her in the eyes and read her reaction. She seemed -- had he said . . . what?

"It's okay," he ventured, feeling that everything could be smoothed by this one assurance. "I'm sure if she didn't say anything, Kiva, the baby's fine!" He gave a light, nervous laugh as he kissed her temple once more.

Lips lingering there, he thought as Akiva explained her visit to Mungo's. The immediate danger no longer a concern, Dreogan began to unearth others. Like the fact that they'd only met nine months ago. And in nine months more, they'd have a child, who would occupy their time . . . He'd just wanted to get to know her first. But by the time November came around, about the time of their first anniversary of their engagement, they'd have a child.

And in two years, they'd be teaching the child to walk. And in three, they'd just be keeping him -- him or her -- from poking fingers in non-safe places, and listening to baby-laughter. . .

Dreogan felt his nose sting and his throat constrict. He must have been silent for longer than he anticipated. She ran a reassuring hand along his cheek that reminded him to swallow. His breath came out in a half-sob.

“Are you okay?” she finally asked, looking at him, straight in the eyes.  “I know it’s not what we talked about… what we planned… Are you – is this – okay?”

Dreogan nodded silently at first, hoping she didn't see tears. He looked away a moment as he gathered a long, deep breath. He exhaled sharply. "Yes." Blinking tightly, he nodded once more, now smiling. "Yes. Yes." He rested his forehead against her once more, smile spreading. "I can't. . . I just can't believe I'm this lucky," he said, feeling his throat grow tight again. Surely -- surely if a man were allowed to cry in his life, it was now.

The prospect that something could be the matter made Akiva’s already upset stomach churn all the more.  She hadn’t thought there could even be the possibility of something being wrong until Dreogan brought it up.  Her fingers impulsively twitched over his hand and her stomach. 

What if something was wrong?  She supposed that was what the other healer was for… she would be able to check on all sorts of things, to make sure everything was progressing normally.  The healer told her she was only about five or six weeks along, anyhow.  Perhaps it was just too soon to tell, if that was the case.  Closing her eyes for a moment, she said a small prayer, just a personal plea to God that all the beautiful things that had popped into her head earlier weren’t to be replaced with some other visions.

It wasn’t as though Akiva would love her child any less, no, she already felt the impulse to love and protect this baby more vividly than she had felt that feeling before, but it would be… she wasn’t even going to entertain the thoughts.  She took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, calming herself and reassuring herself that worrying about it would surely do nothing more than aggravate her and cause needless stress.  Wasn’t it true that stress was bad for a baby? 

She was resolved to be as calm as possible, as optimistic as she could be – after all, this was a happy occasion!  They were both in their own little worlds though, sitting together silently on the couch.  She glanced at him, noticing the glimmer in his eyes and the… tightness about his face that meant something was getting him really emotional.  She saw that look on him from time to time, particularly when he was upset about something but felt the need to be strong – like he could not emote about it or it would show a lack of strength.  Despite all of Dreogan’s differences, he still retained some of those core masculine traits. 

Maybe that was part of why she asked so timidly whether or not this was okay – that look in his face that she could not decipher as good or bad.  She was trying to get it from him, by staring so intently, but he looked away to breathe.  She felt her heart sinking by the microsecond.  And then he nodded.  ” "Yes.Yes. Yes." The tightness in her own stomach and chest loosened and she met his smile with her own, so glad to hear he wasn’t upset – or at least wasn’t going to act it. After all, it wasn’t as though she had done this all by herself….

A small giggle passed her lips as she noticed the moistness around his eyes, shifting on the couch to be able to face him, placing both of her hands on his cheeks and pulling him in for a kiss.  “Me neither,” she assured him, wanting to make it very clear the feeling was mutual, and let her hands slide from his cheeks to his neck to his shoulders before resting there.  A contented little puff of air escaped her as she leaned her head in nuzzling her nose against his with a soft giggle. 

“I love you,” she gave him a quick peck on the lips and resumed leaning her forehead against his so their noses were lined up next to one another.  She laced their fingers together, resting them in her lap.  She laughed a little now, relieved enough to be able to be able to admit this, “I was so scared,” she glanced upward at him, “that it would be too much too soon.  But, I suppose we've never really done things on a practical time scale…”

Despite his attempts to reassure himself, when he thought he'd at least nominally laid the beast to rest, Akiva resurrected it:

“I was so scared,” she glanced upward at him, “that it would be too much too soon.  But, I suppose we've never really done things on a practical time scale…”

It wasn't her fault, of course. And he had just said . . . perhaps he'd let her believe . . . Dreogan was looking forward to having children. In an ideal world, that would have come later. Everything changed, now, and Dreogan had just wanted a moment -- a few months, even -- to feel like he knew where he was. What he knew was that this -- a family -- was what he wanted, regardless of time.

"No. . ." Dreogan said, distantly, trying to draw a line out that started with this moment and moved out to infinity. He wet his lips, "No, we really haven't . . ."

He gave a slight smile -- a self-conscious admission that his mind was drifting, and a reassurance that he was . . . that he would rejoin Akiva in a moment, just as soon as he got his thoughts figured out:

"Should we move the wedding up, do you think?" The thought: his mother. Her parents. They were trying -- they were working hard to do this right, and with the approval of those they loved most. Dreogan could never be like Adon -- throw opinion to the wind and stand independent and steadfast. Success, to Dreogan, was measured by those around him. He wanted this to work. For everyone.

Akiva got this feeling… she got this sort of anxious, rumbling feeling in her stomach that wasn’t exactly a good thing.  She wasn’t the best at figuring people out, she knew that.  She also wasn’t the kind of person who could read minds, who could understand what someone was thinking about just by a feeling, but she knew Dreogan.  She knew the way he looked when he was thinking about something – when he wasn’t saying everything going on in his head. 

 He was nervous, she could see it.  She could feel it, no matter how he wanted her to think, she could tell.  And that was okay, she was nervous too – she admitted it out loud, of course, but Dree, he wasn’t the type to say that.  She wished he would sometimes; it’d make her feel better about the whole thing. 

She rested her head against his shoulder for a moment.  He always smelled so good – as cheesy as it was, he smelled like home.  She wanted him to be happy with her, with this baby, with their life.  It always seemed like he was worrying about the next thing though – the next big moment.  He wasn’t in this moment with her.  It felt incredibly alone, despite the smell of his cologne filling her head, and the warmth of his body next to her, and the soft beating of his heart – at this moment, she felt kind of alone. 

Leaning back up, she let out a sigh of defeat.  It was lost to a concern about the wedding.  It crossed her mind too, only briefly, but it had.  She took his right hand in her right, clasping her left hand over it – the beautiful engagement ring that he gave her.  Her eyes lingered on it, glittering under the low light in the living room.  “I think,” she said quietly, slowly, licking her lips, eyes still lingering on that ring, that beautiful ring – pausing to come up with what she really did think. 

“I think that would be good,” she nodded, “very good.”  She turned her eyes up at him, meeting his dark brown eyes, under those ridiculously bushy eyebrows that she loved so much.  She used her left hand and touched his cheek with her fingertips – feather soft, before she let it fall back down, resting on her thigh – their hands still clasped.  “What do you think, Dree?  What do you want?”

"It's very soon, but . . ." Dreogan gave her another kiss on her temple, then pressed his cheek to hers as he spoke. "What about end of April?" She wouldn't be showing then, he hoped. And the weather would be lovely. And it would be time to plan, to get Adon back to . . . where they used to be. "Too soon?" he asked quietly, running his thumb over her hand, resting on the engagement ring.

"Sometimes," he confessed, "I just want to elope." For all intents and purposes, Akiva felt like his wife. The more time they spent together, the more sure he was of everything. Postponing didn't seem to make much sense. Especially now that they were going to be a family. Now that they were living together. They only needed long enough to get the arrangements together.

He gave a breathy laugh as he pulled her closer. "But I want this. I do. A big wedding. With a cake, and flowers. And friends. And dancing. Because then I can hold you close. . ."

Dreogan felt this. But he knew, more than anything, that Akiva needed to hear that. As a person who lived to please others, Dreogan had best navigated this by making the way to please him be the very things Akiva had wanted to do. So some nights, he did just want to watch chick flicks. Because it was times like that that Akiva would grin and curl into him a bit more. And on their wedding day, though he didn't care for the audience or spectacle, he would get to see her glow.

But she did already. She'd been tired, yes. And a bit worn down. He'd worried about that. And the nausea. But she had that sort of -- it was perhaps a wive's tale, but she did have an indiscernible glow.

"So," he said quietly, " have you thought about names?"

Kiva laughed as he asked her if the end of April was too soon. She shook her head, “No… not too soon,” she smiled at him, “It’ll help us get things done – finally.”  As much as Akiva was usually on top of everything, the wedding kept getting buried.  She had some vague ideas, but they were not like what she imagined for herself.  She had been engaged for a bit over a week with George and had dress ideas already lined up by New Years.  Maybe that was just the rush of things, the feeling to take care of it, but with Dree, there was no rush. 

She felt no pressure with him, even if they had enough to be pressured with.  They had the wedding, and Sasha, and a baby, plus everything going on at work and Dree’s plans for the future, that were more work related than their family, it was a lot to handle.  But whatever it was, they’d do it. 

Squeezing his hand back, Akiva giggled slightly.  “I know,” she kissed him briefly, looking into his brown eyes, batting her eyelashes at him – like she might have when they first starting dating.  “And if our parents wouldn’t kill us, I’d say let’s run to city hall now,” she pecked his lips and leaned back, “But they would, and I am looking forward to getting old with you too much to die any time soon.  So, end of April it is.” 

The laughter bubbled up from her chest and she shifted to cuddle right up into his side.  She wanted to burrow under his arm and she lifted his arm up and around her shoulder, resting her head against his upper chest. She snuggled right up close and breathed in his cologne, taking his other hand and resting it on her stomach with her fingers, just because she could.  It felt nice, oddly calming, even though she felt a little green at the moment.

“I just found out today,” Akiva informed him somewhat surprised at his question, “I barely had enough sense to think of how to tell you, let alone think of potential names,” she pointed out.  “Something important though,” she nodded, “traditional, with a lot of meaning.  I like those sorts of names.” 

Running to city hall. Akiva. Dreogan didn't believe it for a moment. Even if she was accurately portraying their parents' view of things, Dreogan didn't necessarily believe that hers was different. He clasped her and and squeezed it. She was clearly humouring him. "Thanks," he said, blushing. "April'll do. My synagogue, or your temple?" he asked with a smirk. That sounded vaguely like some joke Adon'd make, or tack on a "that's what she said" to.

She seemed flustered, or just flushed, at his question about names. Dreogan winced inwardly and ran his thumb along the back of her hand, once more.

"Oh!" Dreogan started lightly, eyes wide. "No, no; I wasn't meaning to--" he began to assure before she seemed to settle--not rebel--against the idea of names. He gave an amused smile. "I'm sorry--I wasn't meaning to rush. I just thought that that was one of those things that girls did when they grew up: scrawled out the names they wanted for their kids. . . you never did that?" he asked.

It had seemed, to him, just the sort of thing Akiva could have done in her days back at Hogwarts, when she still wore braids.  With a chuckle, he kissed the top of her head. "I like those sorts of names, too."

Wrinkling her nose, Akiva giggled knowingly.  She was trying to make things as simple and easy as possible.  It was going to be stressful, she already knew that, and if they could laugh about it, the more the better.  Squeezing back, Kiv grinned even wider as he started to turn red – despite the five o’clock shadow, she could tell.  “Yours,” she answered easily.  Dreogan was more conservative when she was when it came to religious ceremonies, it would mean more for him. 

“After all, if I get to plan everything else, you should get something,” she teased playfully, kissing his cheek.  The desire to laugh got the best of her and Akiva felt a little more relaxed, even if the sudden impulse to panic had almost taken over on the front of names. 

He quelled some of that anxiety though, not expecting her to have anything concrete.  Thank goodness.  She sighed deeply, remembering when she did think about it, and laughed despite herself.  “I was so strange,” she admitted, almost without any regret.  She was an odd young lady.  If he had known her back then, she was not particularly sure they’d be in the position they were in now. 

“I looked through my astronomy textbook, fifth year,” she blushed deeply, shaking her head with laughter, “and picked out my favorite star names,” she looked at him, raising her finger to point at him, cutting off any remark, “Don’t laugh! I loved astronomy.”  Her cheeks were completely pink, trying not to laugh at herself. 

Wrinkling her nose, she shook her head.  “I’ll tell you – but you have to promise you won’t make fun of me,” she looked him in the eyes, trying to look as serious as possible.  “Promise?”  With reassurance, she took a deep breath and smiled shyly.  “I always loved Nashira and Rigel… or Lyra, like the constellation…” She gasped in realization, bouncing a little as she squeezed his hand again, “And – there is one Hebrew name! A girl, I went to Hebrew school with before Hogwarts, Kezia, I was always jealous.  I loved her name.  We all called her Kizzy,” she shook her head, "So jealous."

"At least a tiny bit of redemption for being a complete geek, I think," she blushed again, running her free hand over her cheek.  She shook her head, "I'm not supposing you had the same school boy dreams of naming future babies, did you?" she teased, searching his face, hoping to find him having some sort of deep, dark ridiculous baby naming secret to overshadow her own.