(Disclaimer: All the characters herein belong to J.K. Rowling, and various publishing companies. Would I were that talented, but alas, no.)
A/N: Feedback is greatly appreciated, but this is my first fic, so please be gentle. Yes, I am aware it is fluff.
Snow was falling thickly on the lofty roof of Hogwarts Castle, and beyond the walls the whole landscape was carpeted in white, but it was pleasantly warm inside the castle. None of the students could ever figure out why this was so, but if they had asked Hermione, she would have referred them to "Hogwarts: A History" (page 843). Ron paid no attention to the temperature, or to the enchanting view through the windows that he passed as he wound his way up the maze of stairways to the library. Hermione had not been at dinner, and Ron did not need to ask around if anyone had seen her recently: the library was the only place she would be. It was a Friday night in December, and most of the school was winding down for the Christmas break, but Professor Snape had scheduled a test for the following Monday, and Hermione was determined not to waste any time in her preparations.
Ron carried an apple in one hand. He would have liked to bring some of the treacle pudding they had eaten for dessert, which made each student's eyes light up and filled everyone with a warmth which was so satisfying in this weather. But Hermione could never quite shake the conditioning she received from her dentist parents, and would never enjoy something as sticky as treacle pudding. Ron would even have liked to bring a wedge of shepherd's pie, but it had been six months since Hermione had vowed never to eat meat again. Ron thought of the day when Hermione had politely asked Winky if he could leave the meat out of her dinner, and it had been a regular arrangement since then. At the time, Ron had held his breath, waiting for an onslaught of accusations and ranting like the one that followed Hermione's founding of the Society for the Protection of Elvish Welfare, but days turned into weeks, and Hermione said not a thing. Finally, Ron's curiosity got the better of him, and he asked Hermione why she did not eat meat any more. Hermione calmly explained that she had made a personal decision not to eat meat, which was based on a desire not to cause pain to animals. And that was that. Ron was somewhat puzzled by her explanation, and completely at a loss to explain her uncharacteristic hesitancy to make her point, but part of him was oddly proud that Hermione would give up the great pleasure of shepherd's pie for such a noble reason.
As Ron entered the library, he found Hermione with her head in her hands, facing away from him. Ron at first wondered if she was asleep, or perhaps crying, but when Ron put the apple gently on the table next to her, she raised her head.
"Are you okay?" Ron asked, seeing the look of pain on her face.
"Yes, I'm fine. No, actually, I've got a wicked headache," responded Hermione. "I'm just a bit stressed about this potions test, I mean, Snape is likely to throw in anything he can to trip us up, and I don't know how I can manage to cover everything. Then when my head started hurting, I couldn't concentrate properly, and now I'm more worried than ever." She propped her head up on her hands again.
Ron stifled a sigh: why did she do this to herself? Everyone knew that Hermione was the smartest and most diligent student in the grade, so why did she have to keep proving herself?
"Okay" said Ron, turning his attention to the problem at hand. "Sit up properly. Now roll your head so that it stretches your neck out. Good. Now shrug your shoulders."
Hermione sat silently obeying Ron's instructions, enjoying the relief that they brought. Finally, when Hermione had shrugged her shoulders and rolled her head enough, Ron began to rub Hermione's neck and shoulders.
Ron talked as Hermione sat receiving his attentions.
"No wonder your aching, Hermione, you're as stiff as a board!" he began.
"Y'know, I'm sure you think I'm a bad person because I don't study enough, but you shouldn't over-do it. It's just not good for you. You'll end up a basket case before you know it. Everyone knows you're the smartest and the best, you know, you don't have to approach each test like it's a battle to the death."
Hermione sat with her head bowed, saying nothing. Ron's words registered only dimly in her mind, as she became more relaxed than she had been in a long time. Ron's hands were pleasantly warm and smooth, and she was lulled almost into a trance. When Ron finally stopped, she lifted her head sleepily.
"Mmm, that was great Ron! I feel fantastic!" said Hermione.
Ron grinned. "My Mum gets headaches all the time. At least, all the time that Fred and George are around! She always says 'it's not all magic that needs a wand!'"
They chuckled together. At length, Ron left, saying: "I've got to go. I promised Neville that I'd give him a game of wizards' chess tonight. Although I don't know why he doesn't give up, I've beaten him twice this week already." And at that, Ron was gone.
Hermione, revitalised, studied for another hour until she was confident that her knowledge of potions was as good as time would allow. Reassuring herself that she still had two more days to study, she embarked upon the journey along a maze of passageways and staircases leading back to the Gryffindor tower. As she went, the words Ron had said to her echoed in her head, as she remembered the touch of his fingertips against her neck.