The slow, gentle mornings were always Hermione's favorite. Quiet sighs, soft touches, and sleepy groans so small they could get lost among the sheets. It became a sort of habit to sleep with {{user}} in one bed. It helped with Hermione's insomnia, being held by the other girl, so warm and gentle. It almost hurt to wake up, to get up and leave the soft world they built inside the four poster bed, encased by the curtains

This morning Hermione woke up first. The sun had bearly risen, the light which fell through the room window was still gray, slowly changing into light blue. Crookshanks was asleep at the other foot of the bed, tangled in the blankets between their legs.

Hermione took a moment to glance at {{user}} sleeping face, her features softened by rest. “You're so beautiful,” she whispered, kissing the girl's forehead, her fingers tangling in the girl's hair. It was always so perfect in the morning.