Upstairs Hermione lay on her bed, taking a rare glance at Witch's Weekly.
Hmm, she mused, "Romantic Scandal Gives Gringotts Goblins a Bad Name"…I'll have to share that one with Ron sometime while he's eating too much, that'll take away his appetite for sure.
"Hullo, Hermione!" Ron said in a bright voice from outside the door. "Mind if I come in?"
Hermione sighed. "I don't know, Ron."
"Look, I'm sorry about cutting you off earlier. It was interesting, I just…I don't know."
"It's ok, Ron…I was just tired."
Ron mentally tallied another mark up for Harry; how did he read women like that so well?
"So can I come in?" he asked again hopefully.
"Sure," Hermione said.
"What?"
"Sure."
"Huh?"
"I SAID 'SURE'!" she yelled.
A quiet voice replied, "Oh." Ron opened the door and came in to sit on the bed by her feet.
There was an awkward moment of silence. Hermione lowered Witch's Weekly to stare at him.
"Did you want something?" she asked.
"I—I—" Ron couldn't believe it. He'd mustered the courage to come to her room—himself without Harry—just to talk to her and maybe make her feel better. It seemed like the dumbest, most transparent idea now. She'd think he was an idiot. Or she'd think he'd come to taunt her. Worse, she might think he fancied—
"Ron?"
"Er, HermioneIwantedtoaskhowshoppingwastodayandifyouweretired," he blurted.
Hermione blinked and put down the magazine.
"Gosh, Ron, that's really sweet. As a matter-of-fact, it was pretty exhausting. There were quite a bit of things to get—" She said up to speak, setting Ron's stomach churning. She were only a foot away! He was completely caught by her animated smile and moving hair—that hair was so soft-looking—he could probably touch it if he just lifted his hand. Ron shook his head, dazed.
"—and bought even a package of young TonFruit. I can't imagine what—Ron, are you alright?" Hermioned asked in concern. "You don't look well. Here, let me see if you've got a temperature."
Without another word, she placed her hand on his forehead. Ron could only see half of her face thanks to the slim brown arm in front of his nose.
"I feel fine, Hermione," he said. He reached up and took her hand down from his face and then, daringly, didn't let go.
"How do you feel, Hermione?" He asked, looking right at her with a mixture of hope and longing and something that looked like absolute fear.
Hermione found she couldn't breathe. She kept looking at his face, seeing his sweet eyes and nice cheekbones that led to a very pleasant nose just over his—
"DINNERTIME!" They both jumped at the sound of Mrs. Weasley's voice.
Hermione stood up, as did Ron. They walked without a word, but Ron held the door open for Hermione. She smiled openly and appreciatively at him, making him feel he was flying high on a broom, impossibly high over Viktor Krum's head.