pskovoroda
Harry Potter was snoring loudly. He had been sitting in a chair beside his bedroom window for the best part of four hours, staring out at the darkening street, and had finally fallen asleep with one side of his face pressed against the cold window-pane, his glasses askew and his mouth wide open. The misty fug his breath had left on the window sparkled in the orange glare of the streetlamp outside, and the artificial light drained his face of all colour so that he looked ghostly beneath his shock of untidy black hair.

Понятия не имею, с чего ты взял, что фокал на персоне не позволяет описывать ее спящей, бессознательной или даже мертвой (как у Мартина с Недом Старком).