The way it felt to slowly slide into Harry's waiting body, with Harry's slight hands gripping at his shoulders like he was the only thing real. (Maybe he was, but who could be bothered to really think, under the circumstances?)
I love this insight into Snape's mind.
And then, as he cast cleaning charms and pulled the blankets over himself and Harry, and began drifting towards sleep, he realized that maybe this whole married to the Boy-Who-Lived thing wouldn't be so bad, after all.