One relative constant was that they rarely went to sleep together, except on the rare occasion that she’d begged him to stay and even in those cases he was always gone by morning. And while kissing had worked its way into their routines, it was always in the midst of sex, when it seemed almost as if his defences were low, or his inhibitions decreased. For her part, she would happily spend an entire evening drowning in his kisses. Or sitting beside him to read on the couch. Or just have the chance to wake up in his arms... She sighed, frustrated at herself. She finally had a good - no, scratch that, bloody  amazing  - sex life and she was happy,  really happy  with their routines. She felt close to him and, yes, she could readily admit that she almost certainly loved him, preposterous as that seemed to be when they didn’t even use each other’s given names. Well, he used hers sometimes when they were having sex, but given the power dynamic of their sexual relationship, she hardly felt it would be appropriate to reciprocate. And as he generally referred to her as Miss Granger outside of more intimate settings, she continued to reply in kind.