Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any related characters.

A/N: Here is your Sunday dose of fluff! Today's drabble was written for shybrunettepainter on Tumblr with the prompt "playing with hair". Enjoy!

You Have Nice Hair

It was a Saturday afternoon, and Hermione was doing what she did best: reading.

She curled herself up on a small chaise in the corner of Gryffindor tower, pouring over her History of Magic notes. O.W.L.s were coming up quickly, and she wanted to be more than prepared. She stretched her arms above her head and yawned, feeling the exhaustion start to creep in from having sat stationary for longer than she intended. When she glanced at the clock to check the time, she let out a deep sigh. Both Harry and Ron said that they would return to the common room over an hour ago, having promised to go through Charms with her.

Almost on cue, the two boys came stumbling through the portrait hole, laughing boisterously. Ron gave Harry's shoulder a shove, to which Harry responded by ruffling Ron's hair as they approached their impatient friend. They were both caked in mud and grass stains.

"And just where have you two been?" Hermione questioned sternly, crossing her arms as she surveyed their guilty expressions.

"Sorry 'Mione, we were just out for a fly," Ron offered.

Hermione rolled her eyes and steadied her hands on the backrest of a nearby sofa. Honestly, these two...

Ron threw himself lazily onto the sofa, not caring that his clothes were filthy. His soft hair brushed against Hermione's knuckles as he settled his head on the cushion just below where her hands rested.

Without even registering their movements, her hands moved of their own accord into Ron's locks, gently massaging his scalp.

"Hmmm...that feels nice." Ron's eyes were closed as he made no immediate protest or acknowledgment of what exactly she was doing.

It wasn't until Hermione locked eyes with Harry, who was looking at her perplexedly with raised eyebrows, that she came to her senses and realized that she was touching Ron's hair.

Scratch that. She wasn't just touching his hair. Her hands were full-on buried inside of his shaggy threads.

Her hands shot back instantly, as if she had touched something scorching hot. Hermione was grateful that Ron had his back to her and couldn't see her face growing red. "Uh, sorry, I uh...sorry."

"Wha? What happened?" Ron mumbled, almost like he was in a drunken stupor, his eyes still closed. He was breathing deeply through his nose, and Hermione figured he was preparing himself for a kip. If he had noticed what she was doing, he didn't comment on it.

Harry barely contained his laughter, and Hermione shot him a glare.

"Anyway, take a shower, will you? Both of you reek." With that, Hermione spun on her heel and disappeared up the staircase, desperate to flee the embarrassing situation she had put herself in.

Two weeks later, Hermione found herself in a similar situation, making one final attempt to revise for Transfiguration before heading to bed. It was late, and the common room was dark and quiet, the only sound coming from the crackling fire in front of her. She sat on the floor with her back pressed up against the sofa, her legs stretched out in front of her.

Hermione was so engrossed in her studying that she didn't hear someone approach.

Ron plopped down on the sofa, making Hermione jump. He sat so close that his long legs brushed up against her shoulders.

"What're you still doing up?" He asked her curiously.

Hermione held up the book in her lap. "Just wanted to-"

"Go through your notes one last time," Ron finished her sentence, giving her a knowing look, "Nevermind. I shouldn't have had to ask."

"What are you doing up?" She threw back at him.

Ron shrugged. "Couldn't sleep, I s'pose."

He appeared distracted, and Hermione felt her heart skip a beat as she realized that he was staring at her hair. "I haven't seen you plait in your hair in awhile."

"Huh?"

"Your hair. You've been wearing it down a lot lately. Today you have a plait." Before she could utter a response, Ron's fingers brushed along her interwoven braid, slowly dragging a finger down its length.

Hermione only hoped he contributed the flush on her cheeks to be due to the heat of the burning fire that crackled in the fireplace.

Ron is touching my hair. Ron is touching MY hair.

"Oh...do you, do you not like it?" She played with the ends of her hair, feeling self-conscious over his assessing eyes.

Almost as if he suddenly realized what was happening, he clasped his hands together and balanced them on his knees as he leaned forward. "I didn't say that…" he murmured lowly.

"Then what did you mean?"

Hermione watched closely as he sent her a steely gaze. "Nothing much — you, uh, you have nice hair, Hermione."

Hermione's lips parted slightly in surprise. Her heart thumped loudly in her chest. Whatever response she was expecting from Ron, that wasn't it.

Ron clapped his knees once, and stood up. "Well, I think I'm ready to give sleep another go. You won't stay out here too long, will you?"

"Uh...no, I'll be heading up right after you," Hermione shook her head in a daze.

Ron offered her a quick grin before giving her a salute, "Goodnight, 'Mione." He was halfway to the stairs when she spoke again,

"Ron?" Hermione waited until he turned back around so she could send him a soft smile, "I think you have nice hair, too."

Ron looked quite pleased by her compliment. She was quite pleased as well.

Maybe tomorrow she would make a joke and tousle his hair. Showing signs of outward affections towards Ron was a new step in their friendship, but one step that she was excited to take.