Harry woke slowly, stretched out languidly on his bed and looked around. Daylight was streaming in through the windows now, which could only mean that he must have finally passed out at some point in the night ... but not after he'd been making love to Hermione for hours. Making love to his wife actually, he correctly himself joyfully. The thought sent his mind into a tailspin and, for a moment, he just stared up at his ceiling, fighting the urge to kick his legs up and down with the ecstasy of it all. Harry noticed the plaster on the ceiling was cracked and blistering as he looked at it ...