"Ron?" She'd whispered his name before even crawling out of the tent, didn't want to startle him. It was his guard shift, he'd be alert. She didn't want a wand drawn on her just this moment, didn't want any reason to change her course.
"I'm here, Hermione."
She did crawl out of the tent then, zipping it shut again before she stood. She searched a moment, her eyes taking in the dark, and found him sitting not too far off on a rock that jutted slightly out of the hill. He had his blanket wrapped around him, protecting him from the cold.
She went to him, walking as quietly as she could over the dry leaves and twigs, and sat down beside him. He wordlessly wrapped the side of the blanket around her, pulling it around the front of her to block the wind.
They sat a moment in silence. Nothing had changed between them, yet they knew everything had. A gaze, a shyness, a favor not asked where it previously would have passed out of hand. A surreptitious glance now and again from either of them, but nothing more. Both aware, neither admitting. The same as always, but somehow different.
"You should be asleep. What are you doing out here?" He didn't look at her as he spoke, could barely have seen her anyway in the sparse moonlight.
They hadn't been alone often since then, almost purposefully avoided it, and when they had it was alternately stilted and soft. Knowing but not saying, the same as always.
"I needed . . ." You.
But he knew. "I haven't told him. Haven't told anybody. I wouldn't."
"I know that, Ron." But what about me? Can't you tell me?
"I think about it though. About you. Like that. All the time."
Me too.
Wasn't that why she came out here? Wasn't that why she wasn't asleep, why she was braving the cold and the night and possibly the end of her life? It could all be over at any moment, and if neither one of them ever said anything more . . .
"We need to talk." We need to indulge.
"It's not talking that'll help."
"Then let's not talk."