The bed was cold. His sleep heavy eyes blinked slowly, the room lit with the gentle light of the winter morning. Why was the bed cold? He burrowed deeper into the layers of soft bedding. The sheets, the light, woven cotton blanket she demanded for all seasons and that he swore was utterly useless, the heavier fleece he added because at least that blanket provided SOME warmth, and, on top of it all, the fluffy duvet with the ridiculous cover made of grey furry, fluffy fleece she called "minky" but looked like nothing so much as a giant, marshmallowy grey Totoro flopped on their bed. He humphed and grumbled as he curled around an armful of the heat deficient fabric, wiggling himself into a disgruntled lump, reminding him of James’ hamster hiding in his cage of wood shavings.
He heard the door creak softly as it swung inwards, mixed with the gentle rattle of crockery on a tray. He smiled. Even now, her first impulse was always to do it the muggle way for the simple things, like carrying their Sunday breakfast into their room. A piteous meow made her chuckle.
"No, Crooks. This is ours. Go back downstairs. I filled your bowls, and it’s waiting for you. Shoo!" She turned to the bed, frowning as she saw no sign of her lover. She looked, and the door to the en suite was ajar and dark. Gazing back at the pile of fluff on the bed, she finally saw the gentle movement of one of the fuzzy drifts.
"Rise and shine, my zvezda. Your coffee and toast will cool."
The lump grunted and jerked with his shaking head as she heard a muffled, "nyet."
Laughing, she levitated the tray as she cleared a place to sit next to him and then settled the tray down with a murmured stabilizing charm to keep it all from being knocked over by her grumpy Russian. She tunneled her hands into the softness, seeking the hard, cotton covered planes of his torso. All his wiggling had caused his henley to ride up, so she found the smooth skin of his back instead.
He gasped, uncovering his head to look at her. "How, witch! How, in this miserable chill of winter, how are you always so warm?" He flipped himself to curl around her, parting her robe to wrap his arms around her waist and cuddle into her soft side. She rolled her eyes at his antics which were almost a ritual at this point.
Dropping a kiss on his dark curls, she nudged him to try and sit him up. He resisted and held her tighter. Giving up, she leaned over and started fixing his coffee. With the mug in one hand, she slid her other through the gap at his neck and down his spine, dragging her nails gently up and down. He shifted to fix her with a one-eyed glare. "You realize, kotenok, that that is possibly the WORST way to get me to move?"
"Oh, is it? I’ll just stop then." She slowly drew her fingers back up and through his hair.
"Nooooooo," he howled, and grabbed her hand to keep her petting him.
"Antonin! Watch what you’re doing, you silly man! I’m holding your coffee and it’s hot!"
He rolled into a sitting position and settled the blankets around them, taking his mug gratefully. "I’m sorry, my solnechnyy svet. I will be more careful. You just know how much I hate waking to cold sheets, and you missing."
With an exasperated look, she said, "darling, I was gone maybe fifteen minutes. You were so deeply asleep, and also, there’s no way that our frankly ridiculous pile of blankets lost that much heat that quickly. I am forever amused that my big, strong Siberian tiger is absolute pants at making your own body heat. How is that even possible? How did you survive winters at home?"
He fixed her with a Look. "Why do think I left Russia to begin with? I’m not an idiot like Finn, with his jumping like a deranged bear into icy water. Worst Yule I can remember. He roped a few of us into this madness, Roddy and Bast came too. He convinced us to come with him to his uncle’s cabin near Geiranger. Don’t get me wrong, the scenery was some of the most beautiful I’ve seen. Frozen waterfalls, the fjord, the severnoye siyaniye lighting the sky. It was ALSO the coldest December in recent history. Our first morning, he decides to wake us all up, after we’d passed out drinking, by LEVITATING us OUTSIDE and the DROPPING us into the FREEZING SEA and then falling over himself laughing on the shore as we struggled and screamed bloody murder! Svoloch." He took an offended gulp of coffee then swore as he realized she’d given him one of the rune mugs, spelled with warming charms.
Hermione laughed at his expression that made him look just like Crooks with his fur brushed the wrong way. She frowned and thought back. "That’s a new one. Solchey svet?"
He blinked then smiled, "solnechnyy svet. That’s you. My little bit of sunshine. Keeping my cold, Russian bones warm, even in the darkest nights of winter." Sipping her own mug, she grinned at him, his favorite dimple winking at him from her cheek as her eyes glowed with love for his worthless self. He snaked his arm around her, pulling her close to him, resting his cheek on top of her curls. Settling back to enjoy their quiet morning, he sighed in contentment, thanking God, the gods, Merlin and everyone in between that he was able to earn and keep the love of this amazing little witch.