            She gave herself a moment to really look—at the planes of muscle beneath his thin t-shirt, at the way his dark curls brushed just above his collarbone. At the stubbled cheeks, and those piercing, delighted eyes. "I always thought so," she whispered. It was the truth, and it burned her skin pink. Hermione pressed her cheek into the crook of his neck, hiding though she knew he’d already seen the blush.