Hermione was quiet a few moments, sipping her tea and nibbling on a biscuit while she considered Ron's proposition. The action also gave her time to compose herself. It wouldn't be nice to burst out laughing at Ron, and he would take it as her laughing at his question- and she truly wasn't, just at how flustered he had become in asking it.
"We could attend together," she said, rephrasing in way she imagined he meant things, and set her teacup back in its saucer.
Hermione had a hard time imagining going to the Gala, or any occasion in honour of the war, with anyone but Harry or Ron or the pair of them. That whole era had been so tied up in those two, for her, and no one else could quite know what it had been like for the three of them. Arriving on the arm of some random clerk from the Ministry seemed wrong, somehow. Harry hadn't mentioned anything when she'd seen him, however, so Hermione imagined he must have other plans. It was always fun to spend an evening with Ron, at least nowadays when they'd gotten past the fact that everyone had expected them to get together, and it had never quite happened.