They stayed up late in the night talking. It had been comforting to be back with an old friend sitting in his warm, cozy cottage drinking cup after cup of hot tea. There were times that Hermione was convinced she would never be warm again. Too much time out in the elements had given her fears she never would have imagined before running. Her life itself was bizarre. Sitting with Fenrir had brought back a familiar sense of normality that she hadn't even been aware that she was missing. When every other sentence they uttered was punctuated with a heavy yawn, her host insisted they get to sleep. She'd offered to sleep out on the sofa near the fire. His cheeky insistence that his bed was the warmest spot in the entire house and there was plenty of space for both of them put that suggestion to rest.