With a nod, Hermione clambers into the bed, sitting with her legs drawn up toward her chest beneath the blankets, arms wrapped loosely around her shins and chin resting on a knee. She's in a pair of his shorts and baggy undershirt – she doesn't need to change for bed; she's already in acceptable pyjamas. So she waits, breathing slowly and carefully, trying to dam her emotion and bottle it down tight, cheeks feeling stiff with the drying remnants of her tears.