"I need to borrow your cloak, Harry," Hermione whispered hurriedly as she sat down on a chair across from the raven haired wizard. Green eyes peered at her through his glasses, a finger coming to his face to push them up the bridge of his nose. It took her a moment to gather her thoughts; of course, the books had been from  his  perspective, but he had not given himself justice. The man was, for the lack of a better word, roguishly handsome. In a careless way, that is. His expression was level, perhaps even curious, but not judgemental. 