Because it's four o'clock in the morning and she's hungry.

She shoves him, somewhat roughly in his own opinion, and says this in his ear. The feeling of her breath tickles him awake, and he rolls over to face her.

"You're killing me with this," he says gruffly. "I have to work in the morning."

"So do I," she agrees, "but the baby doesn't."

At the mention of the child, he awakens a little more. He tenderly places a hand on her stomach. "Baby, please go back to sleep. We'll feed you when the sun comes up, okay, love?"

"Food, Harry," she answers. "Now."

He sighs, looks wistfully at his pillow, and gets up to follow her into the kitchen. "What do you desire this morning?"

"I would love a bowl of ice cream."

He obliges and dishes some out for the both of them, her portion considerably larger than his, both smothered in whipped cream. She dives in as soon as he sets it on the table, and he watches her, amusement dancing all over his face.

When she finishes, he is only halfway through his. She looks at him with a pleading frown.

"You're going to make me get up early and then you're going to steal my food?"

She grinned. "Please?"

"It's a good thing I love you, Hermione." He pushes the bowl across to her. "New rule: I get to finish my ice cream if you make me get up before my alarm goes off. After that, fair game."

Hermione laughs, mostly because she knows that, once you learn a rule, it's fair game to break it.