Disclaimer: Nothing but the plot belongs to me. Characters (sigh) are Madame Rowlings'. And actually, not even the plot belongs to me; it was a suggestion from a FABULOUS fanfic writer (Calypso In Love) friend of mine. Sooo, yeah. Read on!
L'uccello di Paradiso
Chapter One - Beautiful Bird of Paradise
Hermione settled down onto the couch in front of the fireplace to think. She had been ecstatic to find out her final year would be spent as Head Girl, but she had been immediately crestfallen to know it would be spent with a certain Draco Malfoy, who never missed an opportunity to torment her or her closest friends, Harry, Ron and Ginny.
Draco had been so horrible to her that at times the only thing holding her back from socking him with a real nice curse or hex had been a calm hand on her arm, courtesy of Ginny.
On the other hand, it might not be so hard to get along with Draco this year; because he and Hermione had such difficulties being peaceful towards eachother, Dumbledore had requested they arrive a week early to sort themselves out. A fighting Head Boy and Girl quickly lowered the morale of the students, but once Draco was away from his cronies, Crabbe and Goyle, he wasn't quite so bad. Maybe he just had a superiority complex that needed to be resolved.
Hermione sighed and leaned back against the plush upholstery of the couch and was quickly mesmerized by the dancing of the flames.
So absorbed was she by the flickering of the fire that she failed to hear Draco enter the room. Only when he cleared his throat to break her concentration did she notice his presence.
"Hello, Granger."
She jumped, startled, then winced at his use of her last name. It never failed to get to her that he - or anyone, for that matter - didn't respect her enough to call her Hermione.
"Mal- Draco, I didn't hear you come in." She hesitated for a split second, trying to think of something to say. Finally, "What have you been up to?"
"Dreaming up ways of terrifying little first-years into submission. Of course, that topic gets old rather quickly - I guess I'm a bit bored with it." With that, he plopped himself down onto the couch close beside Hermione. He had calculated the distance for the maximum discomfort he could get out of her. "And you?"
He had judged well. Hermione was so disturbed by the proximity of Draco that she found an excuse to rise and move to the other side of the room. "Nothing, really. Just..ahh..trying to get a headstart on a paper." She snatched some parchment, a few quills, and an ink bottle and sat down at the table. She began to write furiously.
Draco laughed scornfully. "Definition: Hermione Granger - the original Teacher's Familiar. Always happy to do extra homework, AND hand it in a week early. The only person in four - wait, no, five years to achieve above 100% as a final mark in anything. No wonder you're so...homely; you spend zero time on anything but schoolwork."
Hermione kept writing furiously but paused just long enough to say, "Draco, do you never completely snap out of asshole-of-the-decade mode?"
"Only decade? I was going for century." He laughed.
She sighed. "Fine, century, whatever it takes to make you shut up."
"Oh but my dear little Mudblood, what ever would you do without me and my biting wit?"
Hermione ground her teeth and dug her fingernails into her palm to avoid snatching her wand and zapping him into a...a ferret. The memory of Draco, The Amazing Bouncing Ferret made her laugh aloud.
Draco - the ever arrogant Dragon - cringed inwardly. There was only one reason such a laugh was made in his presence - when someone was laughing at him. It was the free, slightly derisive laugh that HE laughed at other people, and it rankled to have it turned back on him. Not knowing what else do to, Draco got up and remarked snidely, "Well, I'd best leave you alone with your homework and your...amusing fantasies. Have fun being alone, Granger."
* * * * *
The remaining days before school officially started passed in a similar fashion, the banter between them slowly growing more and more spiteful, but also growing ever-so-slightly more friendly.
"Draco, might I be able to pose a challenge to your non-existant sense of respect for others?"
"Does Filch have a cat named Mrs. Norris? Try me."
"D'you think that MAYBE you could call me Hermione instead of Granger? I mean, if we're to at least appear to be friends in front of the rest of the students..." She trailed off.
Draco almost choked. This little...stuck-up, walking encyclopedia wanted him to acknowledge the fact that she might exist? It was almost too much to handle. Though, she had given him the same respect. It couldn't hurt... "I'll think about whether or not you really deserve it, Granger. Hermione." He corrected himself, and he found that her name tasted odd on his tongue.
It sounded even more odd from Hermione's perspective, but...she had asked for it. She couldn't deny that. She shrugged mentally; another day, another battle, and this time, a battle won.
* * * * *
The day of the Sorting came after what seemed like millenia, and the first name to be called was "Avis, Rara!"
A pretty girl with long, thick blond hair and dark blue eyes calmly stepped forward and sat on the stool. The Sorting Hat was placed upon her head, and almost immediately it called out "Ravenclaw!"
Hermione, for no reason that she could understand, clapped far louder than she normally would have; Draco applauded sulkily: for no reason he could understand, he had hoped she'd be Sorted into Slytherin.
Rara seemed to sense their attention, and she turned and beamed at them as she raced to her new place at the Ravenclaw table.
* * * * *
Though she was in neither of Hermione or Draco's houses, they both went out of their way to show affection for Rara. She basked in their attention, but because it was showered upon her and her alone, she was teased unmercifully. It didn't help that she exceeded the Ravenclaw standard of intelligence either; she was the best in her year and some said that Hermione was giving her lessons on the sly, though that rumor was completely without basis.
And thus it went, with Rara being adored by Hermione and Draco, all the while being despised for that adoration by her year-mates.
* * * * *
Rara ran, sobbing, from Charms. The girl sitting next to her had made a snide remark about hoping the feather they were trying to levitate hadn't come from a relative of Rara's, and that had been the last straw for her.
She ran down twisting corridors and up and down ever-moving stairways, to find the secret entrance for Dumbledore's office that only she and a select few others knew about. She stopped in front of a tapestry that depicted a revelry in a forest glade. Dumbledore had once told her that the forest in the tapestry was the same Forbidden Forest that all students were warned about, but in the days when the tapestry had been woven, the Forest was known as "Eleisium", after the Roman heaven. Rara paused briefly to wonder how it came to be the Forbidden Forest, but she checked herself and ducked behind the tapestry, remembering the reason of her flight.
Rara whispered "Peanut brittle", and a stone in the wall glimmered. She tapped it once, twice, three times with her wand, and the wall shivered and parted to reveal a steep and narrow stairway.
Taking the steps two at a time, she reached the beautifully carved ebony-wood door in a matter of moments. She knocked a soft pattern, and the door gave way to Albus Dumbledore's study.
"Oh, Bumblebee!" Rara cried, running to where Dumbledore stood pondering a series of leather-bound tomes which stood on a shelf. She threw her arms around him and sobbed into his thick white beard. "When you told me it wouldn't be easy, I didn't think you meant handling the other students!"
Dumbledore wrapped Rara in a giant bear-hug before replying. "My dear child, it is not something we can do much to relieve, I fear. But if it would ease your mind, you may stay with Hermione tonight, if she agrees."
Rara looked up into his face. "Really, Bumblebee? Honestly?"
Dumbledore chuckled. Rara was such a treasure; she could be such...such an old soul, sometimes, yet every once in a while a child peeked out at him from behind those wise eyes. "Yes, my dear. Now get yourself back to class, before you're in too much trouble."
* * * * *
Hermione smiled down at the little girl that had fallen asleep in her lap and gently stroked her hair, careful not to wake her. Rara had asked to stay with her and Draco several times since the schoolyear had begun three months ago; as long as Dumbledore approved, Hermione didn't mind. In fact, she rather enjoyed being close to Rara, though she couldn't fathom why she was so attached to her.
Draco shut the door to his room softly, so as not to disturb the sleeping child, and padded over to the couch where Hermione and Rara sat and slept, respectively.
"Just sent an owl to my father. He wasn't happy about Rara, so I told him to sod off. In polite terms. Something about it being my duty, and he didn't want me to bring dishonor to the family name by shirking it, or some such idiocy." Draco sat on the armrest of the couch and gazed down at Rara for a few heartbeats. "Lord, what a beautiful child. I hope one day I have a daughter like her."
Rara had drifted out of sleep the moment she had heard Draco's voice, but she kept still. At his last remark, she smiled and allowed herself to drift again into the blackness of sleep.
Draco caught the smile on Rara's face. "I'm glad she's able to sleep peacefully here." Rara had recurring nightmares, but she refused to tell anyone what they were about. They must be terrible, though, because she always looked haggard and a thousand times older in the morning after a disturbed night.
Hermione nodded absently; something in his voice set her deep in thought. She had been forced to reassess everything she knew Draco to be, as being around Rara brought out the very best in him. Watching him be around Rara - he was kind, caring...one could say loving, almost. Protecting, gentle. Merlin, she thought, what an amazing human being he is.
She chuckled to herself. She and Draco had been getting closer and closer - as friends, never more than that - and the rest of the school saw it; naturally there were whispers about a non-platonic relationship when in reality, that was a mere wisp of imagination.
Hermione couldn't help but wonder if the school saw something they, perhaps, didn't.
At that very moment, Draco was wondering the same thing. He had seen Hermione and Rara curled up together before, but tonight it had struck a new chord. He wanted to be curled up with them, sharing the tenderness and closeness of the moment.
The mere idea of the scandal it would cause if people (particularly his father) knew of his feelings almost made him laugh aloud. Slytherin would think him either a traitor, or just after a challenging conquest. Gryffindor would see him as a seducing bastard, out to destroy their darling Mione.
Then there was the fact that he wasn't too sure what he was feeling for Hermione. He highly doubted that it was a simple crush, and he was positive it wasn't straight-forward lust. What did that leave? Something nobody would imagine an 18 year old to be able to recognize, much less understand.
"Hermione" and "Draco" were said at the same instant. There was a moment of awkward silence, each trying to figure out who should speak first. Finally, "Erm...it's late, Mione. We should all get to bed."
"You're right." No movement at all. There was a barely detectable hint of disappointment in Hermione's voice.
"Rara sleeps better in your room. I'm not tired just yet, so I'll stay out here and you can sleep in my room."
She nodded, but again didn't move.
"Mione. Hermione?" Draco gently lifted her chin to break her intent staring at the fire.
"Yes, Draco, I heard. Rara in my room, me in yours, you out here. Here, can you carry her?" Hermione shifted Rara, and Draco lifted her easily into his arms and carried her into Hermione's room, where he carefully tucked her into the red-and-gold down comforter. He resisted the temptation to drop a kiss on her forhead.
When Draco emerged again from Hermione's room, Hermione had already rearranged the pillows on the couch and shaken out the quilt. She paused for a split second before saying, "Draco, one last thing..."
Before Draco could respond, she stepped lightly to where he stood and kissed him on the mouth. "Thank you for being who you are, Draco Malfoy." And with that, she disappeared into his room.
And with that, in under fifteen seconds, Draco's world had a paradigm shift. The girl - woman who had proclaimed him asshole of the century at the beginning of the year had just thanked him for Merlin-knows-what.
It would be a long night for both of them.
* * * * *
Hermione woke first, as she usually did. For an instant she was confused...the green and silver didn't look familiar...then she remembered. Draco's room. The memory of what she had done on pure impulse last night came back to her, and she wanted to hide and never be seen again. On the other hand, however, it had seemed like the right thing to do.
She stretched, and breathed in deeply. She was surrounded by the wonderful fragrance of Draco. A bit of his cologne - the barest trace of it - a bit of him, and...was that a bit of chocolate that she smelled? She almost laughed...the arrogant, perfect Draco kept a stash of chocolate in his room. A stash large enough to be found by nose alone.
Quietly leaving the warm bed, Hermione began her search by sniff-power alone. She opened a drawer, and there, buried beneath his boxers - she chuckled at some of them; really, where had he heard about Scooby Doo? - was a heap of Chocolate Frogs. She giggled and simply closed the drawer, not disturbing the chocolate.
She went about her morning routine quickly; as much as she wanted to dawdle in the luxurious shower, she needed to talk to someone about what the hell she was going to do about Draco.
Hurrying past the couch where Draco still slept, she noticed his peaceful form. On a sudden whim to capture and treasure the moment, she went back to her room and grabbed her camera. Hermione took several pictures from all angles, including a close-up of Draco's features.
Hermione had taken up photography as a hobby a few summers ago, and she had framed and hung some amazing photos (developed both by magical and muggle means) she had taken of Ron, when they had tried dating for a short time. It was sweet while it had lasted, but they had really been better friends than a couple. Hermione sighed; she and Ron had disappointed a lot of people when they broke up, but in all honesty, there was no spice. It had seemed like Ron was afraid of loving her and their relationship. He had kept his fire tightly reigned. Hermione smiled wistfully, thinking that the woman who could get him to loosen up would be lucky indeed.
Popping back into her room to stow away her camera again, Hermione snapped a few pictures of Rara, who was also still sleeping. Apparently, the clicking of the shutter roused Rara slightly, who murmured, "Mama?"
Hermione smiled and whispered back, "No, just Hermione. Go back to sleep, dear Rara." With that, she left her camera on her bureau and left the Head-Quarters.
L'uccello di Paradiso
Chapter One - Beautiful Bird of Paradise
Hermione settled down onto the couch in front of the fireplace to think. She had been ecstatic to find out her final year would be spent as Head Girl, but she had been immediately crestfallen to know it would be spent with a certain Draco Malfoy, who never missed an opportunity to torment her or her closest friends, Harry, Ron and Ginny.
Draco had been so horrible to her that at times the only thing holding her back from socking him with a real nice curse or hex had been a calm hand on her arm, courtesy of Ginny.
On the other hand, it might not be so hard to get along with Draco this year; because he and Hermione had such difficulties being peaceful towards eachother, Dumbledore had requested they arrive a week early to sort themselves out. A fighting Head Boy and Girl quickly lowered the morale of the students, but once Draco was away from his cronies, Crabbe and Goyle, he wasn't quite so bad. Maybe he just had a superiority complex that needed to be resolved.
Hermione sighed and leaned back against the plush upholstery of the couch and was quickly mesmerized by the dancing of the flames.
So absorbed was she by the flickering of the fire that she failed to hear Draco enter the room. Only when he cleared his throat to break her concentration did she notice his presence.
"Hello, Granger."
She jumped, startled, then winced at his use of her last name. It never failed to get to her that he - or anyone, for that matter - didn't respect her enough to call her Hermione.
"Mal- Draco, I didn't hear you come in." She hesitated for a split second, trying to think of something to say. Finally, "What have you been up to?"
"Dreaming up ways of terrifying little first-years into submission. Of course, that topic gets old rather quickly - I guess I'm a bit bored with it." With that, he plopped himself down onto the couch close beside Hermione. He had calculated the distance for the maximum discomfort he could get out of her. "And you?"
He had judged well. Hermione was so disturbed by the proximity of Draco that she found an excuse to rise and move to the other side of the room. "Nothing, really. Just..ahh..trying to get a headstart on a paper." She snatched some parchment, a few quills, and an ink bottle and sat down at the table. She began to write furiously.
Draco laughed scornfully. "Definition: Hermione Granger - the original Teacher's Familiar. Always happy to do extra homework, AND hand it in a week early. The only person in four - wait, no, five years to achieve above 100% as a final mark in anything. No wonder you're so...homely; you spend zero time on anything but schoolwork."
Hermione kept writing furiously but paused just long enough to say, "Draco, do you never completely snap out of asshole-of-the-decade mode?"
"Only decade? I was going for century." He laughed.
She sighed. "Fine, century, whatever it takes to make you shut up."
"Oh but my dear little Mudblood, what ever would you do without me and my biting wit?"
Hermione ground her teeth and dug her fingernails into her palm to avoid snatching her wand and zapping him into a...a ferret. The memory of Draco, The Amazing Bouncing Ferret made her laugh aloud.
Draco - the ever arrogant Dragon - cringed inwardly. There was only one reason such a laugh was made in his presence - when someone was laughing at him. It was the free, slightly derisive laugh that HE laughed at other people, and it rankled to have it turned back on him. Not knowing what else do to, Draco got up and remarked snidely, "Well, I'd best leave you alone with your homework and your...amusing fantasies. Have fun being alone, Granger."
* * * * *
The remaining days before school officially started passed in a similar fashion, the banter between them slowly growing more and more spiteful, but also growing ever-so-slightly more friendly.
"Draco, might I be able to pose a challenge to your non-existant sense of respect for others?"
"Does Filch have a cat named Mrs. Norris? Try me."
"D'you think that MAYBE you could call me Hermione instead of Granger? I mean, if we're to at least appear to be friends in front of the rest of the students..." She trailed off.
Draco almost choked. This little...stuck-up, walking encyclopedia wanted him to acknowledge the fact that she might exist? It was almost too much to handle. Though, she had given him the same respect. It couldn't hurt... "I'll think about whether or not you really deserve it, Granger. Hermione." He corrected himself, and he found that her name tasted odd on his tongue.
It sounded even more odd from Hermione's perspective, but...she had asked for it. She couldn't deny that. She shrugged mentally; another day, another battle, and this time, a battle won.
* * * * *
The day of the Sorting came after what seemed like millenia, and the first name to be called was "Avis, Rara!"
A pretty girl with long, thick blond hair and dark blue eyes calmly stepped forward and sat on the stool. The Sorting Hat was placed upon her head, and almost immediately it called out "Ravenclaw!"
Hermione, for no reason that she could understand, clapped far louder than she normally would have; Draco applauded sulkily: for no reason he could understand, he had hoped she'd be Sorted into Slytherin.
Rara seemed to sense their attention, and she turned and beamed at them as she raced to her new place at the Ravenclaw table.
* * * * *
Though she was in neither of Hermione or Draco's houses, they both went out of their way to show affection for Rara. She basked in their attention, but because it was showered upon her and her alone, she was teased unmercifully. It didn't help that she exceeded the Ravenclaw standard of intelligence either; she was the best in her year and some said that Hermione was giving her lessons on the sly, though that rumor was completely without basis.
And thus it went, with Rara being adored by Hermione and Draco, all the while being despised for that adoration by her year-mates.
* * * * *
Rara ran, sobbing, from Charms. The girl sitting next to her had made a snide remark about hoping the feather they were trying to levitate hadn't come from a relative of Rara's, and that had been the last straw for her.
She ran down twisting corridors and up and down ever-moving stairways, to find the secret entrance for Dumbledore's office that only she and a select few others knew about. She stopped in front of a tapestry that depicted a revelry in a forest glade. Dumbledore had once told her that the forest in the tapestry was the same Forbidden Forest that all students were warned about, but in the days when the tapestry had been woven, the Forest was known as "Eleisium", after the Roman heaven. Rara paused briefly to wonder how it came to be the Forbidden Forest, but she checked herself and ducked behind the tapestry, remembering the reason of her flight.
Rara whispered "Peanut brittle", and a stone in the wall glimmered. She tapped it once, twice, three times with her wand, and the wall shivered and parted to reveal a steep and narrow stairway.
Taking the steps two at a time, she reached the beautifully carved ebony-wood door in a matter of moments. She knocked a soft pattern, and the door gave way to Albus Dumbledore's study.
"Oh, Bumblebee!" Rara cried, running to where Dumbledore stood pondering a series of leather-bound tomes which stood on a shelf. She threw her arms around him and sobbed into his thick white beard. "When you told me it wouldn't be easy, I didn't think you meant handling the other students!"
Dumbledore wrapped Rara in a giant bear-hug before replying. "My dear child, it is not something we can do much to relieve, I fear. But if it would ease your mind, you may stay with Hermione tonight, if she agrees."
Rara looked up into his face. "Really, Bumblebee? Honestly?"
Dumbledore chuckled. Rara was such a treasure; she could be such...such an old soul, sometimes, yet every once in a while a child peeked out at him from behind those wise eyes. "Yes, my dear. Now get yourself back to class, before you're in too much trouble."
* * * * *
Hermione smiled down at the little girl that had fallen asleep in her lap and gently stroked her hair, careful not to wake her. Rara had asked to stay with her and Draco several times since the schoolyear had begun three months ago; as long as Dumbledore approved, Hermione didn't mind. In fact, she rather enjoyed being close to Rara, though she couldn't fathom why she was so attached to her.
Draco shut the door to his room softly, so as not to disturb the sleeping child, and padded over to the couch where Hermione and Rara sat and slept, respectively.
"Just sent an owl to my father. He wasn't happy about Rara, so I told him to sod off. In polite terms. Something about it being my duty, and he didn't want me to bring dishonor to the family name by shirking it, or some such idiocy." Draco sat on the armrest of the couch and gazed down at Rara for a few heartbeats. "Lord, what a beautiful child. I hope one day I have a daughter like her."
Rara had drifted out of sleep the moment she had heard Draco's voice, but she kept still. At his last remark, she smiled and allowed herself to drift again into the blackness of sleep.
Draco caught the smile on Rara's face. "I'm glad she's able to sleep peacefully here." Rara had recurring nightmares, but she refused to tell anyone what they were about. They must be terrible, though, because she always looked haggard and a thousand times older in the morning after a disturbed night.
Hermione nodded absently; something in his voice set her deep in thought. She had been forced to reassess everything she knew Draco to be, as being around Rara brought out the very best in him. Watching him be around Rara - he was kind, caring...one could say loving, almost. Protecting, gentle. Merlin, she thought, what an amazing human being he is.
She chuckled to herself. She and Draco had been getting closer and closer - as friends, never more than that - and the rest of the school saw it; naturally there were whispers about a non-platonic relationship when in reality, that was a mere wisp of imagination.
Hermione couldn't help but wonder if the school saw something they, perhaps, didn't.
At that very moment, Draco was wondering the same thing. He had seen Hermione and Rara curled up together before, but tonight it had struck a new chord. He wanted to be curled up with them, sharing the tenderness and closeness of the moment.
The mere idea of the scandal it would cause if people (particularly his father) knew of his feelings almost made him laugh aloud. Slytherin would think him either a traitor, or just after a challenging conquest. Gryffindor would see him as a seducing bastard, out to destroy their darling Mione.
Then there was the fact that he wasn't too sure what he was feeling for Hermione. He highly doubted that it was a simple crush, and he was positive it wasn't straight-forward lust. What did that leave? Something nobody would imagine an 18 year old to be able to recognize, much less understand.
"Hermione" and "Draco" were said at the same instant. There was a moment of awkward silence, each trying to figure out who should speak first. Finally, "Erm...it's late, Mione. We should all get to bed."
"You're right." No movement at all. There was a barely detectable hint of disappointment in Hermione's voice.
"Rara sleeps better in your room. I'm not tired just yet, so I'll stay out here and you can sleep in my room."
She nodded, but again didn't move.
"Mione. Hermione?" Draco gently lifted her chin to break her intent staring at the fire.
"Yes, Draco, I heard. Rara in my room, me in yours, you out here. Here, can you carry her?" Hermione shifted Rara, and Draco lifted her easily into his arms and carried her into Hermione's room, where he carefully tucked her into the red-and-gold down comforter. He resisted the temptation to drop a kiss on her forhead.
When Draco emerged again from Hermione's room, Hermione had already rearranged the pillows on the couch and shaken out the quilt. She paused for a split second before saying, "Draco, one last thing..."
Before Draco could respond, she stepped lightly to where he stood and kissed him on the mouth. "Thank you for being who you are, Draco Malfoy." And with that, she disappeared into his room.
And with that, in under fifteen seconds, Draco's world had a paradigm shift. The girl - woman who had proclaimed him asshole of the century at the beginning of the year had just thanked him for Merlin-knows-what.
It would be a long night for both of them.
* * * * *
Hermione woke first, as she usually did. For an instant she was confused...the green and silver didn't look familiar...then she remembered. Draco's room. The memory of what she had done on pure impulse last night came back to her, and she wanted to hide and never be seen again. On the other hand, however, it had seemed like the right thing to do.
She stretched, and breathed in deeply. She was surrounded by the wonderful fragrance of Draco. A bit of his cologne - the barest trace of it - a bit of him, and...was that a bit of chocolate that she smelled? She almost laughed...the arrogant, perfect Draco kept a stash of chocolate in his room. A stash large enough to be found by nose alone.
Quietly leaving the warm bed, Hermione began her search by sniff-power alone. She opened a drawer, and there, buried beneath his boxers - she chuckled at some of them; really, where had he heard about Scooby Doo? - was a heap of Chocolate Frogs. She giggled and simply closed the drawer, not disturbing the chocolate.
She went about her morning routine quickly; as much as she wanted to dawdle in the luxurious shower, she needed to talk to someone about what the hell she was going to do about Draco.
Hurrying past the couch where Draco still slept, she noticed his peaceful form. On a sudden whim to capture and treasure the moment, she went back to her room and grabbed her camera. Hermione took several pictures from all angles, including a close-up of Draco's features.
Hermione had taken up photography as a hobby a few summers ago, and she had framed and hung some amazing photos (developed both by magical and muggle means) she had taken of Ron, when they had tried dating for a short time. It was sweet while it had lasted, but they had really been better friends than a couple. Hermione sighed; she and Ron had disappointed a lot of people when they broke up, but in all honesty, there was no spice. It had seemed like Ron was afraid of loving her and their relationship. He had kept his fire tightly reigned. Hermione smiled wistfully, thinking that the woman who could get him to loosen up would be lucky indeed.
Popping back into her room to stow away her camera again, Hermione snapped a few pictures of Rara, who was also still sleeping. Apparently, the clicking of the shutter roused Rara slightly, who murmured, "Mama?"
Hermione smiled and whispered back, "No, just Hermione. Go back to sleep, dear Rara." With that, she left her camera on her bureau and left the Head-Quarters.