Hermione swam up to consciousness slowly, too warm and cosy to wake with a start. Instead she lay curled up like a cat and listened drowsily to what had woken her. Voices talking; both hushed and she thought it was nice that they didn’t want to wake her. Hermione’s brow furrowed as the fog of sleep retreated, and a moment later she realised that the lower, deeper voice was Draco’s. Oh god.