"...I'm not sure that we can really hold him accountable for that," Hermione replied quietly from where she sat, noticing the furrow in Ron's brow and fighting off the temptation to smooth it away. She could see it better than most people, how deeply Ron cared, how much concern he directed at all of his friends and family— even if he didn't always voice his thoughts. No doubt that the only reason he'd gone so willingly down to Rapture in the first place was because he knew that he wouldn't be able to keep Hermione away, and having no choice in that regard, he simply couldn't leave her side.

It was the type of thing that one easily took for granted, but after the past couple of years, Hermione severely doubted that any of them would for some time to come.

Allowing herself a small smile, Hermione leaned over the side of the bed, wringing more water out of her hair. (He did tend to notice those details.)

"I could've dried myself off more properly in the Compound, but I suppose both of us were in a rush to get back," she pondered aloud, shifting over on the bed to make more room for Ron. "You're still dripping yourself, Ron."