“Great,” Harry responded. He tried to sound excited about it but he couldn’t quite manage his usual level of enthusiasm for the subject. “I am sure that will be useful. We should be sure to look at it in a few days.” Harry wouldn’t have normally stalled, but he felt like he needed a few days.
Harry realized he never answered Hermione’s question. “Well, I was having trouble sleeping. Dreams,” he added after a moments pause. Without thinking about it, he rubbed his scar that was still looking a little red around the edges. “Not all bad,” he admitted sheepishly. “Just…I don’t really remember.” Harry felt himself stir at one indistinct memory of a dream, but shifted to try and cover it.
“How do you know, you’re sleeping?” Harry asked, still chuckling. His eyes locked on Hermione’s tongue. He couldn’t help but think about how cute and inviting it looked. Thankfully, it disappeared into her mouth quickly. “Like what?” Harry knew his friend was more than books, but he liked to hear her talk; especially when it wasn’t about books.
His eyes saw something in Hermione’s lap. Harry blinked as he looked at the book on her lap. It surly wasn’t a “normal” book. Without thinking, he reached for it and picked it up, brushing her thigh and silky nightie as he did. “What is this?” he asked with a grin.
Harry, unlike a few of the girls in the Gryffindor dorms, had no idea about Hermione’s love of Muggle romance novels. “You didn’t find this in here, did you?”