[ Hermione is curled up in bed, but it's obvious that she's miserable, pressed into the pillows with a duvet over her as if it might protect her from the world.
Still, she's soundless, keeping to herself and biting back the urge, even in her sleep, to appear as though she's weak or suffering, as if it might draw attention to her somehow. She loses herself in the memories instead, having them replay in front of her like dreams, reminding her of her failures and her mistakes before she comes close to waking up - which happens slowly, more like breaching the surface of water than it is snapping to wakefulness.
What brings her out of it properly is the feeling of something familiar, a warmth at her side; it reminds her of the times she had slept near Diarmuid and he had sung her to sleep, careful and gentle and sweet to be around. It's that tenderness that makes her turn her body, lifting a hand to wipe at her eyes - they're damp from the midnight tears, but she does her best not to let them show.
It's only when her eyes land on Tamamo that she remembers what their connection means and she breathes out a sharp little noise, reaching out a little before her hand drops and she sits up. She remembers the other dream, of course, the one that wasn't her own, and there's a long, drawn-out pause before Hermione squeezes her eyes shut and just... Breathes.
Then she's holding out her hand, shifting over to make room in the bed. ]
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Still, she's soundless, keeping to herself and biting back the urge, even in her sleep, to appear as though she's weak or suffering, as if it might draw attention to her somehow. She loses herself in the memories instead, having them replay in front of her like dreams, reminding her of her failures and her mistakes before she comes close to waking up - which happens slowly, more like breaching the surface of water than it is snapping to wakefulness.
What brings her out of it properly is the feeling of something familiar, a warmth at her side; it reminds her of the times she had slept near Diarmuid and he had sung her to sleep, careful and gentle and sweet to be around. It's that tenderness that makes her turn her body, lifting a hand to wipe at her eyes - they're damp from the midnight tears, but she does her best not to let them show.
It's only when her eyes land on Tamamo that she remembers what their connection means and she breathes out a sharp little noise, reaching out a little before her hand drops and she sits up. She remembers the other dream, of course, the one that wasn't her own, and there's a long, drawn-out pause before Hermione squeezes her eyes shut and just... Breathes.
Then she's holding out her hand, shifting over to make room in the bed. ]
Come on, Tamamo.