AN: OOops, at ~1.1k it's not quite a drabble, but it belongs in the series. For reference, look at the link on the notes at the end.

Hermione was sitting on the big sofa in the Common Room, Ron next to her, as they worked on homework. She could feel his thigh against hers, and his elbow would sometimes cross into her personal space; she wondered if, now that they were friends again, they were both trying to catch up on closeness. This time, it was physical closeness. He could have been sitting at the other end but, no, he had chosen to sit right next to her. She had no complaints, of course, except for how distracting he could be, and how much it all interfered with her thinking.

She stared down at her book, trying to look like she was diligently reading instead of busy containing her fascination for Ron. He seemed to be focused on his work, taking notes from the book on his lap.

Hermione really liked the easy comfort she felt when they were sitting like this, close together.

And hated when it was interrupted by Ron's obnoxious, clingy girlfriend.

"Won Won!" she exclaimed, sitting on the other side of Ron and grabbing his arm tight in her hands. "I've been looking for you! What are you doing here?"

Hermione forced herself not to look and tried even harder not to gag.

"I'm working on homework, Lavender," he said, his voice clear, if a bit monotone.

"But why are you doing that here?" Her voice was a calculated mix of sweet and shrill. "You know what I think of-"

"Lav," he interrupted, finally looking at her. "I can work where I want."

Instead of arguing with him, she gave a sigh that left Hermione confused.

"I love the colour of your eyes! They're such a rare shade of blue," the girl was saying. How could Lavender change moods so quickly? "They are so dreamy and deep."

Questioning the blonde's sanity, Hermione turned a page of her book, despite not having read a single word of it in the past half hour. Lavender had now stopped talking, evidently waiting for Ron to respond to her swooning. He didn't, much to Hermione's delight.

"What are the chances our children will have eyes just like yours, do you think?" the blonde insisted.

Ron had been in the middle of taking more notes, but Lavender's words had stopped his scribbling with enough force to scratch the parchment.

"Ch- children?"

Hermione wanted to interrupt to tell her that she and Ron would never have children; tell her that they did not have a future as far as Hermione was concerned. But she didn't, and continued to pretend like she was engrossed in her reading.

"Yes!" Lavender exclaimed. "Can you imagine two little babies, one blonde and one ginger, both with your eyes?" Lavender added, her voice high-pitched and loud.

"Iiiiii…" he tried, elongating the vowel with a thin, thin voice.

"I wonder what exactly makes your eyes this exact shade of blue, 'cause I think that I-"

"Actually," Hermione said, barely realising she had started to speak and unable to stop herself. She continued, "His eyes are so unique because of a rare pattern of pigment concentration. When I looked it up, it said that deep blue eyes have a layer of the iris full of melanin, under a layer of iris where light scatters in what it known as Rayleigh Scattering. It's exactly the same phenomenon that makes the sky look blue. So, basically, that's why his eyes look like the sky an hour after the sun has set."

She finished her rant, still avoiding looking directly at she realised they were silent even after the silence had stretched into several seconds, she turned her head to stare at them. What had she just said, that they looked at her so? Ron's eyes were wide, his lips slack with surprise. Lavender, on the other hand, was glaring at her with flaring nostrils and narrowed eyes.

"I really think we should go somewhere else," Lavender growled, pulling at Ron's arm. When Ron didn't move to go, she got up in a huff and stomped her way towards the Fat Lady's portrait. She went out in a huff.

Ron looked briefly in Lavender's direction, but turned back to Hermione a second later.

"That was..." he began, but seemed to struggle finding the word. "It was… brilliant."

"Uhm… thanks," she replied, biting on her bottom lip. She went back over her words, trying to keep her cringing inside when she realised she had said, when I looked it up. Worse, when she thought back to like the sky an hour after the sun has set. If he had noticed…

Well, of course he had noticed.

He lifted his now-free arm to rub the back of his neck, a gesture she knew meant he felt self-conscious.

"I really… well, I always thought my eyes were only average," he said. His voice was unsure and there was a soft tremor to it. "Great to know you think… I mean, that there is something to them."

"Yes, of course there is," she offered, hating that her voice was shaky. "Nothing like my brown eyes and hair. Rather dull, brown."

Ron looked at her again, clearly about to say something, when Lavender returned to where they were, hands in fists.

"Ahem," she exclaimed in a short, dry manner. "I'mm going to go away and, this time, I fully expect you to follow, Won Won."

With that, she turned around and left them once more.

This time, when she looked at Ron, he was grimacing. He groaned and began to get up, but froze midway. Paying attention to him, she noticed his hesitation and nervousness as he sat back down. He was second-guessing himself about something, she knew, but she didn't know wh-

Her thoughts were obliterated when he leaned sideways and dropped a kiss on her shoulder, whispering, "There's nothing dull about you."

Then he got up faster than she had ever seen him move. He collected his things, avoiding her eyes.

"See you later; there's a row waiting for me," he explained, his voice forcefully cheerful.

She saw him go, following his retreating figure until he disappeared through the portrait hole leading out. It was only after several minutes that she was able to go back to her book, her fingers shaking slightly as she turned the page. She still had not read a single word.

One day I'll ask, she thought, going over his kiss and his words, and dreaming of the day they could talk to each other without having to hold back... without having to tread in a riddle of half-hidden truths.

AN: This picture is a reference of what Hermione meant by "an hour after the sun has set": https media-cdn. / media / photo-s/05/ec/5c/34/amazing-tour-we-can-see . jpg (just remove spaces, or check the post with the pic on my tumblr: aloemilk dot tumblr dot com)