She brought him breakfast in bed, after the sex. He said she didn't have to but she insisted, a bundle of nervous energy, planting a kiss on him that missed his cheek and hit his ear – half deafening him – before skittering out of the room. When she brought up his breakfast an inordinate amount of time later, and sporting burnt fingers, Draco sat up in bed naked under the sheet, and dove into the slightly underdone poached eggs, black-edged toast, limp bacon, and cereal she'd brought him.