"Draco, what--what did you do?" Harry asked as he watched horrified the scene in front of his eyes.
Draco looked up from his book with an impassive face. "What?"
"Why is Sir Fluffybutt...there?" Harry pointed to their cat, sleeping beatifically on a... "Is that an automatic baby swing?"
"Hm?" Draco looked at Sir Fluffybutt with a fond grin. "Oh, today I accompanied Granger to that Muggle place where they sell all kinds of things--"
"The supermarket?"
"That, exactly. And I saw it, and I thought... well, Sir Fluffybutt sure would love that."
Harry looked at the cat languorously stretch himself on the swing, slowly undulating. He looked at peace with the world.
"Draco, that's...that's for babies. Not cats!"
Draco's expression didn't change one bit. He cocked his head. "Well, that's even better. So when the baby will come we'll already have something useful."
Harry contemplated his husband looking lovingly at Sir Fluffybutt, and even if a sarcastic remark about being a gigantic dork Cat Dad who still knows nothing about Muggles was forming in his mind, he couldn't voice it.
"I'm a lucky man," he said, instead, softly.
Draco grinned. "You sure are."
