They turned their heads and looked at each other, still breathing heavily. Hermione laughed and ran her hands through her sweaty curls. Snape shook his head in disbelief and stared at the ceiling of the four-poster bed. He considered what words were appropriate now, but concluded that silence was the best option. He listened to Hermione's breathing, slowing but still clearly revealing what they had just done; to the contented sigh as she fished for the duvet with her feet; and to the rustle of the fabric as she finally pulled it over her body, bringing with it the subtle scent of sex and perfume.