Words

"I will escort you back to Gryffindor Tower," said Professor McGonagall heavily. "I need to address the students in any case."

Harry and Ron nodded, slowly.

"Come along, then," said the Professor.

Harry slowly got up from where he sat. Ron stayed seated.

"If you don't mind, I'd like to stay for a little while longer..."

Professor McGonagall, seeing how he was affected by his great friend's petrification, nodded. "Make sure you get Madame Pomfrey to escort you to Gryffindor Tower once you're ready to leave."

Harry let Ron stay where he was, sensing how much he needed to stay. The two left, and Ron was alone.

He shyly looked at Hermione's face and hands, knowing that if she were awake, he would have been driven away by her penetrating, calculating stare. He had never had time to examine her so closely without a know-it-all comment coming from her lips.

He never realised how much he cherished those comments until now.

After a small while, which was filled with Ron counting the strands of hair brushing against Hermione's cheek, whilst tenderly holding her hand, Ron decided he had the choice of leaving by himself, or being violently ushered out by Madame Pomfrey, who had retreated into her small office.

"I like you." He whispered into the darkness before he left, wishing it would be heard by Hermione, even if the sentiments weren't returned. He knew she would never hear it.
Or, perhaps, she would.