Sophia Bhetwal

“I’m sorry—I’m sorry—I’m so sorry. I’m sorry for everything I did to you,” he said, his voice hoarse and broken. “I love you. You left, and I’d never told you.”
― SenLinYu, Manacled

“When he moved, she could tell that he’d stopped breathing. His fingers spasmed as he started to reach out. He hesitated and then just barely brushed the baby's palm as though he expected his touch to poison or break her. The tiny hand reflexively closed around his finger, gripping it.


Draco sat frozen.

Hermione watched him and recognized the expression in his eyes as he looked down at the little person who was clinging tenaciously to him.

Possessive and adoring.”
― SenLinYu, Manacled

“He had such long fingers. In another life, he could have been a healer or a musician. He would have had the perfect hands for it.”
― SenLinYu, Manacled

“Draco talked to Aurore more than he talked to anyone, even Hermione.
He would monologue to her about anything, about the trees, and the furniture, all the shops where he’d bought books for Hermione, about what the weather might be, and what all the colours and hues of the analytic spells meant. Aurore would listen to him intently and fret when he got distracted or fell silent for too long.”
― SenLinYu, Manacled