( The bunny, who is hereby treacherous and wayward and wrong may be excused his lack of dignity as he gallops onto Hermione's hands, her wrists. With a sigh that bleeds into grateful silence, she appears to balance him, either through natural skill or borrowed inclination.

Tenderly, Lan Wangji nods along, sparing a finger to steer the fluffy swell of the rabbit's hide when it peers from the sleeve's nook. )

He accepts you. ( A blessing. ) You have done well.

( By... breathing. )