Scoffing as she asserted that he had wanted to have someone walk in on him, Ron snatched his pants up from the floor while she looked in the mirror, tugging them awkwardly on underneath the towel, and re-adjusting it rather than abandoning it entirely to stand about in shorts that would leave nothing to Hermione's own imagination. In truth he just had been near the door and thought to crack it rather than the window, but so long as she didn't see anything that would put them in a truly uncomfortable position - now that he had his pants on - Ron wasn't too worried.
"Look at what?" he asked, glancing over his shoulder and seeing Hermione's gaze lingering on it in the mirror. "Oh, yeah. I don't know, I mean, s'alright, it doesn't hurt or anything anymore." It wasn't as though he spent a good deal of time with his shirt off, and with half a year since the injury, Ron didn't think there was much to be done now. "If you really want to keep the swelling off, I'll get one of Bill's steaks for you."