The Muggle slept on with all of the innocence and carelessness of a being who had never known real danger or true fear. She envied him. Envied how he could continue to sleep while a murderer crawled out of his bed. If he knew half of the depraved acts she'd committed over her time as a Death Eater, he would've never had the courage to bring another pretty girl he met in a pub home with him again. Part of her thought that he should know. If for no other reason than he shouldn't so trusting. The world was a scary place. Maybe he needed to learn that before he did something foolish and got himself killed.