Hermione glanced at Ron briefly before returning her eyes determinedly to the book she was 'reading'. It was ridiculous, she couldn't seem to stop her mind from drifting back to the redhead who sat opposite her, chewing on his quill and frowning down at a divination text.
She desperately tried to refocus on the Arithmancy theory that would normally have captivated her fully.
She knew that Harry had noticed her situation, but she daren't ask him about it. After all, he and Ron were best friends, he probably knew what Ron thought about…
Concentrate! She admonished with a shake of her head.
Still, the idea that Ron might have thought about her… It sent a little shiver down her spine.
"Cold Hermione?" Asked Ron casually.
She blinked hard and had to swallow before replying. "No, I'm fine."
She was more than a bit surprised when Ron, instead of shrugging off her answer cocked his head and offered her his cloak.
"Um, no really, you don't have to…"
She trailed off when Harry nudged her in the ribs and suddenly found herself cocooned in warmth and the musky smell of Ron teased her nose as she snuggled into the slightly tatty, but warm, winter cloak.
"Um, thank you Ron." She said, her voice slightly breathless.
"That's okay." He said, and when she accidentally caught his eye her breath stopped and she saw the warm affection in his clear brown eyes.
She smiled weakly and tore her eyes away fixing them doggedly on her book even as she felt the fierce blush rising on her cheeks.
Ron was pink, his face was pink, his hands were pink, and to his obvious displeasure the scarf about his neck was also bright pink.
He was attempting to unravel the offending scarf without strangling himself with it.
"Ginny! I'm not wearing this thing!" He bellowed.
His sister chortled and poked his ribs.
"You certainly look like you are Ronniekins! Doesn't he Hermione?"
Said the red-headed girl waggling her eyebrows teasingly.
Ron didn't seem to appreciate the joke, he was steadily getting redder and redder. When he looked up at her noticing her for the first time Hermione saw the look of total embarrassment in his posture and she felt the odd pull in her gut, telling her to reassure him, to comfort him. And also to offer him his cloak back, because he did actually look cold after all that quidditch practice in the snow.
She walked over and helped him escape the scarf, she tried not to notice the bared skin of his neck, and she absolutely didn't notice the little patch of freckles below his ear. Absent mindedly she dropped the scarf into Ginny's hands.
"Ron, you do look cold, here's your cloak, I went and got my own in the end, you can have it back, and here, come sit by the fire."
When he wrapped the cloak around himself she grabbed his hand to lead him to the fireplace. It felt like a block of ice.
"Your hands are freezing!"
She exclaimed taking the other hand too.
She started trying to massage some warmth into the pale fingers and her eyes fixated on the differences between their fingers.
Her own hands were small, she'd sometimes wished for longer more elegant fingers but had long ago given up on that possibility. She had ink stains on the finger tips that controlled her quill but otherwise her hands were smooth and clean. Ron's hands on the other hand were large. She absently pondered that this would be an advantage for playing keeper at quidditch and quickly moved her thoughts away from it's other possible advantages. Ron's hands were rough and dirty, a bit flushed from the cold instead of their usual pale colour, he had freckles and some small sparse tufts of ginger hair on his fingers.