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Summary
Hermione took a deep breath and opened the toilet lid, coughing. Rose petals fell on the white rim, and if there was no burning pain in her chest, she would probably be impressed again. Tender pink color. Really? It was the last thing she associated with him. It seemed to her that she must have coughed up something like a Genlisea — it would be perfect for him. No tenderness. At all.
