Torn apart with pleasure and remade with attentiveness, Hermione awoke to a cool bed and a quiet mind for the first time since he captured her on the battlefield. The ache deep in her hips was unfamiliar but not wholly unpleasant, and she settled into the satisfying laxity of her release at his hands, drowsing against the pillows amid their mingled scent, before a thump in the little room beyond the bedchamber jarred her.