Hermione pauses and looks back at him. Her eyes are tight with wariness, and her face is twisted with confusion and irritation. His palms go sweaty, and he tightens them into fists to stop the shaking.  Say yes.  He could bring in the scarf tomorrow and tell her that he found it in a drawer or stuck between a pile of folders. She wouldn’t have to know what he’d done in his closet, and she’d only see how he’d helped.  How he could take care of her.