Harry Potter love story. Years 4-7.
Mature content.
Ruby & Harry swore up and down they would never develop feelings for the other. That would be disgusting! Until they started their 2nd year relationship... They may have had that spark in the past...
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"I want you, Ruby." —————————
Harry had taken the trip to Hogsmeade with only Ron at his side the next weekend— mainly because Hermione didn't want to leave me behind, and now more than ever, I was still in a battle with my brain over what his intentions were. I hated the idea of bringing this conversation up again, but Harry still hadn't made any moves since our talk at the party. It had been one of the longest weeks of suspense ever.
What if he doesn't remember? What if he was too drunk, and he has no idea I was even feeling that way? Did he just not care? Maybe I was being overdramatic.
Back to plan B: wait and see what happens... while I make myself miserable by loathing in the anxiety of wanting him, and not only worrying about our relationship, but the task he was doomed to face any time now. Whatever was meant to be would be, and I wasn't the only one in the situation, so I couldn't be selfish and only think of myself. If the outcome wasn't what I wanted, then the heartbreak of not being with Harry would slowly slip away like it had the first time— even if it would always linger in my chest until the day we both started to lose each other to other people.
Or... worst case scenario... I have a plan C. It's not one I would particularly enjoy using because I'm not sure of it is morally correct, but if it really came down to it— I'd be will to do whatever it takes to win Harry over.
This is starting to sound like an obsession.
But at the end of that day, my (maybe I should stop calling him mine...) raven haired, green eyed boy came back to my dorm with a pile of my favorite Honeyduke's candies, and stories about Sirius who had in fact met up with him in Hogsmeade on his day off— not really to my own or Hermione's surprise. We called that one from a mile away. Ron had awkwardly brought Hermione back a small container of her favorite Crystallized Pineapples to make up for the last few weeks of their arguing, and her cheeks turned as red as our bedding when she accepted his offering and returned the apology. Harry and Ron shared information from Sirius all about the Death Eaters' trials, and how Crouch sent his only son away to Azkaban for getting caught up with them. Sirius claimed that man would do anything to keep from tarnishing his reputation, and that it didn't matter if his son may have been innocent...
I listened as well as I could while I comfortably laid against my pillows and Harry sat by my head. He kept his focus on Hermione and Ron across from us while his fingers were subconsciously running against my scalp to play with my magical locks of hair and feel the twinge of enchantment he enjoyed from it. The gesture forced my eyes closed, and all my brain could imagine was sneaking Harry off to a broom closet not far from here so I could start snogging him— because it had been too long, and my gut craved it.
How his thick hair would feel as it ran through my fingers... if it would be a gentle and affectionate or heated and passionate moment... the way he'd graze his hands over my hips because he knew no one else got to enjoy me in such ways... maybe even how his lips would feel while they scorched across my neck and nibbled at my skin enough to trail a few love bites along the way...
