She hadn't meant to, of course, but it was what it was and what it was was that Hermione, 8 months pregnant, was a big unit and that couch was almost as old and she was.
It had taken two cups of herbal tea and all the flattery in the world to stem the unbelievable flow of tears that ensued but when she was finally gone, the couch was still broken.
Harry and Draco stood staring at it with a curious undertone of sadness.
"This is weird..." Harry finally murmured, "It's weird, right?"
Draco paused, "Well, we've had it since we moved in. We christened it that first night."
Harry smirked at the memory, "There was nothing holy about what we did on that couch."
Draco scoffed his agreement.
"We can just repair it." he suggested, flourishing his wand lazily.
Harry thought about it.
"I dunno. Maybe we could do with a new couch?"
Draco sighed, "Oh Merlin, this isn't going to turn into another one of your crusades for furniture that matches the apartment, is it?"