Also from year 2. 

Ron slipped on his too-short maroon bathrobe and made his way out of the boy's dormitory as quietly as possible. He shivered slightly as his bare feet touched the cold marble stairs. The common room walls glowed faintly from the light of the few remaining coals in the fireplace. Ron figured it was probably around two in the morning so his chances of anyone else being awake were slim. As quietly as possible he slipped out of the portrait hole and set off down the dark, dissertated corridor. After a few cautious minutes Ron reached the hospital wing doors and made his way inside.

Their she was, laying in the exact same position; a look of fear and surprise frozen on her face. Her hair spilled out over her pillow and shone silver in the moonlight. Her brown eyes were glassy and unseeing with none of their familiar warmth.

"Hey Hermione." Ron sat down on the edge of her bed and stared into those horrible, frozen eyes. He hated seeing Hermione this way. It was almost as if she wasn't Hermione at all but merely a cleverly made wax figure.

Why exactly Ron had snuck out of Gryffindor tower in the dead night to visit a petrified Hermione was a mystery to him. He smiled slightly as he imagined the all-too-familiar look of disapproval on Hermione's face if she knew he had been out of bed after hours.

"Ronald Weasley how could you? What if you had been caught!"

He almost missed her scolding's. Almost. Anything would have been better then having her laying here motionless.

Ron had been confused over his feelings for Hermione lately. When they first met he had utterly disliked her. She had been so unbearably annoying; always nagging them to do their homework and being an insufferable know-it-all while she was at it. Always little miss perfect, teachers pet, and all those other unbearable titles.

And then he and Harry had saved her from a Troll and things had changed. She was still an annoying know-it-all but it was all more bearable for some reason. By the end of their first year she had relaxed a bit and wasn't so uptight all the time.

And then Ron had gone home telling himself all the while that he didn't miss her. He didn't give the notion that he fancied her a second thought.

However, it was a bit annoying that whenever he mentioned her, whichever family members were present got a strange look on their faces.

To make things worse, Ginny kept teasing him about the fact he had a girlfriend. But no one seemed to understand that he didn't have a girlfriend. Hermione was just a friend. Nothing more.

Then he saw her in Diagon Alley at the beginning of the school year and she had greeted him with a hug. His ears had flushed a deep scarlet as Ginny had watched from the side with a smug, satisfied expression on her face.

And then they had gone back to school and things had gone back to normal, except they weren't back to normal, because Hermione was petrified.

To be completely honest with himself Ron had no idea what he felt for Hermione. Sure he still thought she was an annoying bookworm but there was something else. It was in the way she looked when she was concentrating particularly hard on something or in the rare smiles that she occasionally gave him when he made her laugh.

He pulled himself out of his thoughts and looked down at the bed sheet. Lying as motionless as the rest of her, was Hermione's hand. It looked so small and exposed that Ron felt the sudden urge to hold it.

He glanced around nervously. Here he was in the dead of night surround by petrified people, surely no one would notice or care. With that final resolve, Ron reached out and gently took Hermione's hand in his own. It was freezing cold, stiff to the touch, and felt so small compared to his own.

For some reason his eyes began to fill with tears. Ron blinked rapidly, trying to keep them from falling, "This is stupid. Ron, you're crying over a girl. Stop it."

He used his free hand to swipe at his eyes while holding Hermione's hand in his other.

The embarrassing tears subsided. He imagined the look on Harry's face, or Ginny's, or the twins, if they found him crying and holding Hermione's hand. His ears flushed a brilliant red at the thought.

After a few minutes more of simply sitting and holding Hermione's hand, Ron decided he should head back to the common room. As he stood to leave he whispered to the darkness, "I'll come see you tomorrow Hermione."

It was true she couldn't hear him, nor could she move, nor would she ever know what had just taken place, but Ron didn't care. She was his friend and petrified or not he was always willing to sit by her side.