Ron's Chocolate Frog melts in his hand, so he licks it off, grinning at Hermione, mock offering her to join him. She mock-wrinkles her nose and closes her book and uses it as a pillow, putting her legs in Harry's lap. He doesn't take notice, but he doesn't look contemplative, for once, nor guilty or happy in that depressing oh-hey-I'm-alive-after-all way: he just looks rested and finally ready for Quidditch.