Swallowed under a large quit, Remus found Hermione asleep on the couch, and stopped to watch her for a moment. Her hands were tucked under her head, and she had pulled her knees to her chest, while her curls slowly came lose from her plait. Finally, he succumbed to his inner urges, and couched down, cradling her face while he rubbed gently at the puffiness under her eyes. Still half-asleep, a small hum escaped her lips, and she leaned into his touch. Remus, in turn, let himself fantasize a future where he woke up next to this witch every morning. "Hermione, love, when did you get in last night? Does Molly know you’re here?"