Despite Hermione's attempts to stay awake clinging to Malfoy, eventually his warmth and his closeness lull her off to sleep, slumped peacefully in his arms, dreamless and unaware. She wakes drowsy in the near-dark sprawled across the bed on her stomach, and knows instinctively it is still the middle of the night. The bed is empty, and pain and hurt spike sharp in her stomach – how could he leave? He knew how much this last night meant to her, even if she didn't tell him aloud exactly how much. She sits up, pushing her hair back off her face, and squints into darkness of the room, trying to make out Malfoy's shape in the bed he keeps made up in the corner for himself. But she can see no shape in it, nothing huddled within the blankets.