"Usually, that's our job," Hermione pointed out softly, though she nodded her head in concession. The wonderful thing about Harry, the thing that made all the world turn towards him in times of need, was his heart. Ferocity and gentleness alike found him in turns, to the point where Harry Potter was never a boy very alone, and hadn't been since the first day he started at Hogwarts. There would always be people who would try to look after him. Even in the impending battle against Voldemort, Hermione couldn't imagine that Harry would end up being alone for it.

She let her eyes shut for a few moments to rid herself of the thought.

Blinking, she peered over at Ron, a slight intake of breath passing through her lips as she noticed that he'd taken off his shirt. It wasn't the first time that he'd done so in front of her (once, he'd been shy about having her in his bedroom altogether, but several months spent searching for horcruxes rid all of them of a bit of modesty), but without being rushed, something about it felt different to Hermione. She was probably thinking too much.

"I, erm," she stammered, losing her train of thought. "No, the Council never made me go down to Rapture in the first place, it just felt like my duty to at least, to at least get a sense of what was down there." Feeling a bit overwhelmed, Hermione turned and unzipped her own cardigan, which was similarly damp, and draped it over the headboard of the bed.