If she had had her way, Hermione would have gladly continued the dream. She wanted to make it to the moment in the kitchen when she handed the wizard his tea and their fingertips brushed. The unintentional act sent a jolt straight up her arm. She wanted to dream about his amused smile, his polite manner of drawing her into the conversation like she wasn't a prisoner, his soft whisper in her ear before he left reminding her that he would come whenever she needed him. It had begun an open friendship that developed into a secret relationship that everyone knew about. Neither of them had been as careful as they imagined.