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Boys weren't exactly queuing up to get me in a broom cupboard.
Images flooded my head of lots of little blonde babies running around and an aged Louis watching them fondly.
Louis Weasley. The only person I'd willingly run for.
The hospital wing was a horrible place.
He would be mine.
My face couldn't go any redder than it already was.
Note to self: dye hair pink.
A situation which made me even more nervous and my hands clammier than I was with Louis.
I couldn’t have wished for a better day.
The plan wasn’t making progress but it wasn’t failing either.
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