Again, something brushed at her shoulders, and when she turned to look at Ron, he was wrapping her something. She inhaled and immediately recognized the smell of him. It smelled like Fred, like warm summer nights and dark chocolate, campfire smoke and nectarines. It was their blanket, their sanctuary, wrapping her in one final hug. Hermione choked on a sob and pulled the tattered fabric tightly around her. She wanted to say thank you again, for this was the best thing he could’ve given her, but Ron didn’t need it or want it. For that, she was grateful.