Stretched out on the chaise in the solar, Romy’s fingers smoothed over the silky black hair on her baby’s head. Lyra was sleeping curled atop her chest, quiet but for the occasional soft squeak or heavy breath. It amazed Romy how she’d come to expect those sounds, how quickly she’d started listening for them
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Regan adds that she likes babies. She even let the Weasley spawn gnaw on her.
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