Harry woke up next to Hermione. God he loved her her coconut skin and her topaz eyes. He did not know what they did last night but it felt passionate and right. He whispered lovingly: "Oh I love your little boobs."
She twirled around loving and exclaimed excitedly: "I love that you love them!"
"Like I love you babe," Harry ejaculated passionately, like he'd ejaculated all over her face last night. Her soft hair had fell like the furry feathers on a chick's back, and were just as yellow, so bright, so shiny.
"But their is something that I have to tell you. I have noticed weird sounds around the bleak towers and odd spires, so weird and alie that I could not properly describe them. And they were not from you, although I do have to say that you moan like a fucking cow when I ravaged you," He stated assuredly while wiping the speckled dust of the glaring glasses of his glasses.
She nodded agreeingly.
"Yes indeed these were very dark sound and I think that we should do something about it. Snape should be very close by, I thought he was whispering dark curses in the candlelight, casting a Satan-spell over us while we had coital intercourse. I think he conjured a demon from the roiling depths of a most blazing and red-hot hell to torment us in our hour of need," Hermione posed questioningly.
"Now that youre talking about it I do feel like I am in an hour of need. Wanna make sweet love again?" Harry demanded agreeingly.
Hermione nodded, the curtresses of her locks swirling in he lights of the chandelier abve the rose-tinted red satin bed while she shook her beautiful small but delightful body like it was a work of art created by a master like Plato or Aristotle or Raphael.
"You strike me a philosopher and a libertine my love. Let us make this sweet love you speak of."
And so they did, to be ready to address the darkness that shallowed the dawn.