"Why not?" He didn't think he should even have to ask, but it was obvious she wasn't about to explain herself. It would be one thing if one of them were spearheading the effort, if one of them seemed to have a solid plan - but they didn't, not even Hermione and certainly not Harry. He'd been closer to Dumbledore than any of them, but was that really more important than the practical considerations involved? "Anyway, it's not safe. - Like you said." So there was not point talking about it. The miserable little fire called to mind the much more robust example that was no doubt warming the common room quite nicely. He tugged his jacket more tightly around himself.
"Because with all of us at each other's throats it's better to learn to pick our battles," She grumbled, under her breath and obviously not for his benefit. It was an honest answer, though, at least. They couldn't keep bickering like they had been and expect any of them to be at their best.
He couldn't quite make out what she'd said, but he thought he'd picked up the gist of it. He dove back into his journal, in response. There were a lot of things he wanted to say, or at least questions he wanted to ask, but he could see each and every one of them opening a rift he didn't want to have to work to patch again. Morale was not running high. Everything was working against them, from the locket to their limited use of magic to the lack of food, right down to the weather … He looked up at her again, feeling a little stupid as he started to shrug off his jacket. "Here," he said, not very gracefully, half-flinging it in her direction.
It caught a little in the fire and she caught it, glaring at the way he'd thrown it at her, like it was her fault she was cold. She'd rather he keep it if he was going to have that attitude about it. She put it on, though - mostly because she was cold, but also because she'd rather he be cold if he was going to be a prat. "Did you write back to anyone yet?" She asked, not saying 'thank you'.