Ron & Hermione; after food
Hermione had never eaten so much. And never would- well, until next year. She was currently pulling on her periwinkle sweater back over her head, trying to ignore how her hair was just made more wild by the act. It was far too warm inside, and Hermione had every intention of spending some time out in the thick snow. It would let her breathe a bit, and she passed by the sitting room window on her way to the property's wall. She had come in more casual clothing, a white collared shirt under the sweater, and blue jeans of muggle make matched with warm winter boots. She'd even pulled her hair back into a ponytail for once, matching mittens on her hands. She threw her coat over the wall, sure that she would not be too cold. Leaning against the cool stones, she closed her eyes and let out a hot breath.
It was always awkward. She wasn't a Weasley, not really. Yes, she knew that she could become one. But that would involve her dreams coming true, and Ron's feelings for her not only being dead... but not the foolish crush of youth. And she doubted it. He was an auror, handsome, and could easily date other women. Why on Earth would he... settle?