"Hey, we should just both be grateful we'll never have to worry about me going bald," he mused with a shake of his head. "Good genes are supposed to run in families, right? So if we ever have kids, they'll be blessed with a real mess of hair to begin with. Come out of St. Mungo's with barettes in their hair and everything."
...had he just casually mentioned children? It was something he'd been thinking about more and more lately, admittedly, with how careful he'd become over the last season of Quidditch. If he was going to keep himself from breaking bones, he might as well have a good reason for it. He tilted his head into her touch and smirked. "At least I don't smell like dog -- except maybe after practice." It was true that he sweated up a storm, and came home often rather -- damp, if he was in a hurry to see Veronica.
"If you're all that fond of it, though, I'm sure I could keep it a little longer. Or maybe just a grow an impressive beard."
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