“Better than ever,” Maeve replied warmly, though rationally she knew that wasn’t strictly true. The redhead had always been a light sleeper, and having someone else in the bed had not made matters at all easier. Still, the notion of spending a night next to him was wondrous, and so she would stick to that.

“It’s so strange, waking up somewhere new—though in time,” Maeve added with some hesitation, “you’ll experience that yourself.”

Barney Skeeter was sweet, kind, and understanding. Surely he wouldn’t mind selling his home—so quaint!—and moving to Ireland? Part of Maeve hated to bring it up so early in their marriage, to risk upsetting her dearest one, but the auror could not bear to keep such a secret from the man to whom she had bound herself.