Falling asleep in a chair left a lot to be desired. It was only the sheer exhaustion plaguing Hermione's body that seemed to never end that allowed her to find the tiniest bit of rest sitting up. Maybe one day would come when she could sleep without worry until she was no longer tired. She feared something like that would take days, not hours. Possibly even months or years of sleep. Death would likely be the only true respite from the danger of violence and worry of her existence she could expect.