She had to stifle back a giggle (that would undoubtedly be followed by a very unlady-like snort) when he snuggled into her neck. She couldn't help it. It tickled. Once she had closed the door, she latched herself right back onto him. He felt terribly cold, which she guessed was to be expected. He had just been outside for who knew how long.
"Bad dream? Oh, my poor Seamus." Rubbing her hands up and down the length of his back, and gave something of a sigh. He had apparated all the way to her flat just so he could spend the night. It was adorable, really. "You can sleep in my bed. Yes?" She didn't see the harm in it. She knew she'd want to snuggle if she had a bad dream, which she likely would have if she actually slept. And so as long as his hands kept to themselves and didn't wander against the bareness of her back, or legs, or where ever else he would find risen skin due to her scars, then they were good.