"Hermione, it's not that. I was trying to throw him off the scent, you know? Like if we were talking about the marriage stuff, he'd never suspect," and he stepped forward and tucked a wayward hair behind her ear that she had missed. He was looking down on her, and it was easy to lean down to whisper in her ear, "I don't want to tell him, or even think that something is up. I'm not worried about me; I want you safe. Can we meet, maybe later this week, just you and me?"
He stood straighter, and held the door open for her, "I'm sorry, Hermione. I was trying to act my normal self, but maybe that wasn't such a great idea. I don't want him to see me all moppy and such."
They were standing in line, to place their order, and then pay at the end of the line. The place made amazing salads in these huge bowls, and these great, thick sandwiches. Ron stood behind her, being careful not to touch her, and turned his head, trying to catch sight of Harry.