The five week old currently sleeping in her lap gave a little huff, her tiny brows drawing together briefly before smoothing back out. Hermione smiled, more easily than she had in ages, as she continued her soft stroking. When she'd been offered Camilla, she'd been incredibly hesitant. That hesitation had been clearly reflected on Pansy's face as Hermione was instructed to seat herself on a wide couch in a little sun-lit salon somewhere on the first floor of Nott Manor. She'd done so, accepting the tiny little bundle of life in shaky hands before drawing her knees up onto the couch, planting her feet on the cushion and transferring the fragile thing into her lap, tiny head near upturned knees. The baby had hardly seemed to care about being jostled too and fro, about the shaking hands that gripped her tightly for a moment, and had stayed asleep through the entire harrowing ordeal. According to Pansy, the newborn had inherited her mother's eyes and "her father's ghastly hair," but Hermione had yet to see the baby's dark eyes, as she'd been sleeping since Pansy and Ron had stepped through the Floo a little over an hour ago. She was sure the combination of dark brown irises and bright gingery hair would be deadly when she got older. God help Ron, she thought with another smile.