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The Christmas party was almost a week away. And Christmas was a week and a half away. Harry was in over her head in the dumbest possible ways. What does she get her boyfriend? Her best friends? She didn’t want to leave anybody out, but it got harder and harder to decide the closer the holiday got. And then she had that bloody party to worry about.
Harry had her dress, that much was settled. But she was determined to take Ron to the tailors in Hogsmeade to get a suit made for him, so his mother didn’t force him into ancient dress robes once again. The jacket may have been warm, but it was still too musty for either of their liking. Ron had been dismissive at first, but over time, he was warming up to the idea. Harry was hoping to get him a red dress suit, and she would complement him with her glittery gold dress and white flats. She was not wearing heels again, hell no.
Everything was going great for her, everything but Hermione. She was struggling beyond comprehension with who to take to the party. Asking Ginny was out of the question, and so she was stuck between asking one of her friends or going alone all together. But she didn’t want to go alone…
So here they were, discussing her plans while she ran around the library, putting books away and mumbling about something under her breath that Harry struggled to hear every single time.
“It isn’t like I don’t want to ask her,” Hermione grumbled. “It’s just much more complicated than that. What would happen if she were to say no? I don’t think I could handle that kind of embarrassment.”
“Mione, you’re stressing about the party too much,” Harry took one of the books from her hand and tossed it in the air a little to try and get her attention. Hermione was more than happy to yank the book from her hand and swat it against her shoulder, dragging a yelp of pain from the raven-haired Gryffindor.
“Just because you have it all figured out, doesn’t mean we all do!” Hermione yelled in a whisper tone, her voice practically seething as she did and put away the book before Harry could take it back from her grasp. “Listen, Harry…”
“Listening…” Harry leaned back against the desk behind her, and Hermione stood in front of her, gesturing over the side of her shoulder towards the back of the library where a girl was sitting with a quill in her hand and smile on her face.
“See that girl over there?” Oh, Harry absolutely saw her. She nodded in response to Hermione’s question. “That’s Romilda Vane… Word is, she’s trying to smuggle you a love potion.”
Harry’s brain stuttered like a scratched record disk. “Excuse me?”
“Hey! I’m not the one making it for her. She’s only interested in you because everyone says you’re ‘The Chosen One,’” Hermione crossed her arms over her chest and watched Harry’s face go from confused, to interested, to concerned all at once. What does she say to that? Some random classmate wants to give her a love potion, even though the entire school knows about her and Ron’s relationship?
Romilda must have some fairly strong infatuation with her. Well, yes, Romilda was attractive, and she looked genuinely sweet with how she smiled at Harry, but ultimately, not her type. Romilda wasn’t a redhead, after all.
“Hell, maybe you should go with her,” Before Harry had finished her sentence, Hermione was swatting her in the head with a copy of The Daily Prophet. Another little yelp left her throat at the smack and Harry just thought about how many useless articles must be in that paper for it to be so damned heavy!
“Alright, damn, sorry,” Harry rubbed at her forehead a little and let out a little sigh as she thought to herself, who could Hermione possibly take to this thing? The possibilities were endless. But ultimately, Harry had no ideas for her and knew that if she didn’t get to bed soon, she was going to be exhausted for the trip into Hogsmeade tomorrow and Ron would tease her endlessly with how tired she was. While it was fun to have him give her piggyback rides through the snowy streets, tomorrow was just too important.
Harry wished Hermione the best of luck and took herself back to the Common Room, walking the long way through the snow and enjoying the wintery wonderland for a few minutes before she was forced inside from the freezing temperatures and less than acceptable attire, she wore in order to be doing such a thing.
When she reached the common room, her hair was damp and had a few snowflakes in it while her shoes were squishing, and her feet were frigid cold. Okay, walking in the snow was not her smartest choice. Harry walked towards the fireplace and began to unlace her high tops before dropping down and letting them rest in front of the fire. She used to do that when she was no more than eight years old, that’s the only way she could dry her shoes whenever she went in the snow or the rain.
It took longer, but it was far less energy than saying a cleaning charm. Let them dry the hard way tonight.
Harry was in the process of shedding her sweater vest when the portrait swung open once again and she immediately felt better at seeing Ron’s face. He headed towards her instantly at seeing her and plopped down on the couch while she wrestled with her vest.
“Someone go hiking in the snow?” Ron teased as she peeled off the vest and dropped it in front of the fireplace. Once it was down, her hands went into her hair and she ruffled her wild mane, making it stick up in every other direction and graft to her forehead.
“Thought I’d take the long way,” Harry shrugged her shoulders and stretched out her legs, wiggling her toes slightly to keep them warm in front of the fire and sitting back on her hands.
Ron noticed how her arms trembled with a chill and smirked. “You know, if you’re cold, I’m right here, little bird.”
“Yeah, but I’m cold and wet. Not fun, babe,” Harry shivered a little more as the chills became more severe for her and it seemed like Ron wasn’t one to take no for an answer this time around. Without another word, he stood up from the couch and lifted her up off the floor. Harry squealed at him lifting her up like she was nothing for him and flopped back onto the couch with her in his arms.
Harry didn’t fight in the slightest as she just relaxed against him, her head pressing into his chest and her skin starting to warm up from his high body temperature. Ron busied himself with trying to speed up the heating process, rubbing her arms up and down and hiding his face in her neck. Once again, Harry’s natural scent was always more pleasant for him than any kind of perfume a girl could wear. She always smelled like coffee, and a rich petrichor. Nothing made Ron feel more comfortable than hearing rain on his window, and when his girlfriend always smelled like it? Ten times better.
“Excited about tomorrow?” Harry breathed against his chest and the redhead holding her just nodded a little, more than content with just being in her presence for the moment. “Not embarrassed about having your girlfriend pay for a suit for you?”
“Maybe if I thought that was something I should be embarrassed about, mate,” Ron pressed a soft kiss to her temple. “But there isn’t. So, I’m not.”
It always impressed her how he never felt emasculated by her sweet gestures. Harry bought him flowers for valentine’s day last year, and Ron had been bragging to everybody that Harriette Potter herself had given him a small, but colorful bunch of red foxgloves and yellow lupines. He kept one of the foxgloves stems even after the others had died, pressed it in the front of his notebook from the year before and kept it for as long as time will allow him to keep it.
Many people attempted to tease him for it, Malfoy being the main one. But he refused to be ashamed of it. Harry had gifted him the flowers, and he was prouder than anything. It was a reminder that the most amazing girl in the world had chosen him, stayed with him, was happy to be with him. Who could be ashamed of that?
The two almost passed out on the couch together, had it not been for Seamus showing up and making an overexaggerated gagging sound that made Harry inhale sharply and sit up off Ron’s chest, wiping off the small amount of drool that was on her cheek.
“Blimey, is there a time or day when you two aren’t all over each other?” Seamus mocked Harry as she sat up from the couch and rolled her eyes at him.
“Butt out, Seamus. We weren’t doing anything,” Harry gently rubbed the back of her neck and ran a few fingers through her hair, attempting to untangle the locks that had matted in her semi-sleep state. Ron groaned from how his back was bent at such an awkward angle for the last hour and sat up a little straighter, making Harry shift in his lap.
Seamus snorted. “Y’all are just too cute. It’s nauseating.”
The halls were glowing with candlelight from the charms placed on the castle’s ceiling. Every hallway was cast in a soft warm glow and an even warmer atmosphere with the Christmas décor here and there. It made things easier on the students who didn’t go home for the holidays, but luckily, she was always welcome at the Burrow with her extended family, as Ron always called it.
Harry stood at the end of the hallway, patiently waiting for her date to finally arrive. Her shoes were tapping on the floor, and she was twisting and twirling back and forth, her dress moving in time with her own movements. She had no reason to be nervous, but it still brought her some form of anxiety whenever her and her boyfriend would go on a date. Was this considered a date? Yes, definitely.
The sound of someone clearing her throat had Harry spinning on her heel and she felt her breath get yanked out of her own lungs. There he was, looking as regal as ever. The suit fit him almost too perfectly, accentuating the muscles in his biceps and shoulders. The deep maroon color complimented his fiery orange hair beautifully that was probably in place before, but he had messed it on the way. He wore a black button-down shirt under the suit jacket, and a matching shiny black tie, and in his breast-pocket was a folded golden handkerchief. His shoes were the same kind of black as his tie, shiny and pristine. And over it all, a black cloak that almost touched his ankles.
Oh, screw being naked. This was probably the biggest turn on for Harry in her entire life. How did the tailors make it so… so damn perfect? How was he so damn perfect?
The gold of his handkerchief matched the sparkling glittery gold of her dress perfectly. It was an elegant halter top dress with exposed shoulders and half of her back where anyone could see the many tiny scars littering her skin that was usually kept covered by t shirts or her school uniform. The dress didn’t have flows, or ruffles, thank Merlin, it was just a simple straight dress that cascaded down in one soft sweep and tapped the back of her heels whenever she would walk. A small slit in the dress was visible from the bottom up to her knee, bringing attention to her strong leg muscles and wide calves. Around her neck was a scarf, a matching shade of deep red to go with Ron’s suit.
But, as usual, Harry’s hair was still a mess. And she still wore those glasses that she could never seem to part with, no matter how formal the setting. She didn’t wear much makeup, minus some black eyeliner, and a dusting of gold over her eyes. She didn’t need makeup to make the outfit look perfect. She made it look perfect, no matter what.
Ron felt his own breath get stuck in his throat as he looked from his girlfriend’s feet and let his gaze travel up over her legs, tracing that outline of her hips, the soft swell of her breasts, all the way to those deep emerald irises that never failed to make him weak at the knees. Harry was a vision.
“Bloody hell, Harry,” Ron muttered through his stunned state. “Should we even go to the party?”
Harry snorted, covering her mouth for a second as she tried to keep her giggles in but was ultimately failing miserably. “We can’t skip the party, Ron. Everybody would notice.”
“I understand that but, ultimately… Who gives a damn?” Ron stepped up to Harry and grabbed her by one hand and pulled her against his chest, his other hand pressing into her lower back and bringing his lips against her own. Harry whimpered and pushed her hands into his chest and gave a small shove.
“C’mon, Romeo… Let’s go.”
The two of them walked hand in hand to the party, her fingers threaded in his and her expression showing nothing but excitement for the night to come ahead. She was determined to make this a good one for both, regardless of what were to happen.
The second they stepped into the party, the two of them headed for the table where snacks were laid out. Harry had her eyes set on that damned treacle tart, and she was eating it, even if Ron dragged her away by the hair. She was eating the damn pastry.
As soon as she had pertained the slice of dessert, Ron watched with undeniable humor as she wolfed it down, delight all over her features as the pastry was devoured in damn near seconds. When she reached for another, Ron snickered, and it made her pause for a second.
“What?” Harry said with an accusing tone.
“Just… wondering how you every stay thin, mate. Remember Honeydukes, last week?”
Harry’s whole face went red with embarrassment as she was reminded that she was ready to hex one of the patrons for buying the very last box of shortbread cookies. Ron had to calm her down and convince her to let it go after almost ten minutes. She was still salty about the situation, even now. Those damned shortbread cookies… It was unfair how good they were.
“Should have been mine, I’m tellin’ ya…” Harry grumbled a little and Ron snickered before grabbing a brandy snap off the table in front of him and holding it up for her to take a bite. She immediately grabbed at the snap with her teeth and pulled it out of his hand, breaking off a piece with her teeth and nudging him with her shoulder.
“You and your sweets,” Ron turned to gaze across the sea of partygoers, recognizing about three of them out of everybody in the room. Harry herself turned around and noticed that Slughorn spotted her among the crowd and in the back of her mind, she was remembering what Dumbledore asked of her. The real reason for why she was here… Get in his good graces.
“Harriette, my dear,” Professor Slughorn held out his hand for her and she accepted it, a smile on her face. She couldn’t help but like the man, he was just so nice and had an aura of comfort around him. It did, however, upset her greatly that he could not remember Ron’s name. “Would you do me the honors of accompanying me in this next photo? I would like to get ones with my best students.”
“Certainly, Professor,” Harry smiled warmly and looked up at Ron who shrugged, stuffed his hands into his pockets, and leaned back a little with a smile playing on his face. “Be right back, okay?”
Ron gave a little nod and watched his girlfriend walk off with the potion’s professor into the middle of the room where the photographers got ready to take their picture. Slughorn placed one hand to her shoulder and Harry wrapped one arm around the man’s middle, huddled close to him for the photo. When the photographer snapped the shot, Harry threatened to jump. It was always so bright and so blinding… Harry would never get used to cameras.
Slughorn thanked her and told her to enjoy the party with Ron. He didn’t say Weasley, he butchered his last name once again. Harry did her best to ignore it, but it was getting annoying with how he didn’t seem to care for his students unless their grades were as good as hers.
After the professor walked away, Harry turned around and was immediately face to face with Neville who was carrying a silver tray with sparkling cider in glasses. Whatever he was wearing, it was horrendous. Why was he in all white? He looked like a bellhop from a muggle hotel, gloves and all.
“Drink?” Neville nervously approached her.
“Neville, what are you wearing?” Harry brought one hand to his chest and traced the sigil over his right pectoral, frowning a little.
“Didn’t get into the Slug Club,” Neville shrugged, clearly trying to focus so he didn’t drop the tray. His shoulders were so stiff and slumped, it was like the tray weighed over 100 pounds. “It’s okay though! Least I’m not the one handing out towels in the loo.”
Harry smiled and shook her head. “No, I’m fine, Neville. Thank you though.”
Neville simply nodded and began to shuffle in another direction, still focused on not knocking himself over and spilling the contents of the tray all over the floor. Poor boy, he was in way over his head by just being here. Neville did not belong in this kind of setting, especially being a server. He was better than that.
When Harry turned back to try and find Ron, she was surprised to see him gone. A quick scan of the room and after a few moments, she found him… and someone else… behind a sheer curtain in the corner, what the hell?
Harry quickly crossed the room and was met with angry whispers between her boyfriend and a voice she recognized instantly.
“Hermione, you’re being ridiculous! It can’t be that bad—”
“Oh, yes it can, Ronald! Trust me! It’s bad!” Her voice was laced with irritation, and borderline mortification. What was happening between the two of them? Harry pulled back the curtain and stepped behind Hermione, nearly scaring the poor girl half to death.
“Bloody hell, Harry!” Hermione shouted, putting a hand over her chest. Wow, she was definitely on edge if she was the one swearing this time around.
“Hermione, why are we hiding? What’s going on?”
“She’s hiding from my sister,” Ron rubbed at the bridge of his nose for a second before he was met with a swat by the back of Hermione’s hand against his shoulder. He stumbled back dramatically. “Ow!”
“What happened this time, ‘Mione?” Harry spoke in a soft tone to try and not draw attention to them in the corner in hopes that someone wouldn’t sneak by and assume something more than scandalous. Whatever was happening, Harry needed to get down to the bottom of it, and quickly.
Hermione sighed. “I spilled my drink on her…” Her entire face went redder than Ron’s suit and Harry immediately flinched as if the girl had decided to reach back and smack her in the face. That could absolutely be embarrassing, without a doubt. No wonder she was hiding.
Harry placed a comforting hand on Hermione’s shoulder who was hiding her face in her hands, her whole posture showing nothing but pure embarrassment for the situation. Ron was trying his best to be supportive, but Harry knew how bad he wanted to laugh at the situation. In all fairness, it sounded like such a silly thing to be embarrassed about, but Harry knew just how bad Hermione’s crush was. One single mistake was blown way out of proportions in her mind.
“I’m sure she isn’t upset with you, Hermione,” Harry cooed in a comforting manner. “Accidents happen.”
“Not like this! This is ridiculous… Ugh, I feel so bad for Michael.”
“Corner? You invited Michael Corner?! Her ex-boyfriend?” Ron snapped down at Hermione who jumped away a little and grabbed onto Harry’s arm for support.
“T-They ended on good terms, didn’t they?” Harry looked between Hermione and Ron; her face full of confusion before they both shook their heads a little. Okay, so that just made the situation more embarrassing for Hermione. So, of all the things she is good at doing under pressure, making decisions that pertain to her love life didn’t seem to be one of them.
Hermione looked like she was about to interject when she saw something beyond the sheer curtain and immediately paled. “Oh God, there she is!” And almost instantly, Hermione was bolting for the nearest exit towards the bathroom to hide in shame.
The two left behind shared a look of confusion and Harry pulled back the curtain but almost walked directly into the chest of their Defense teacher. Snape was looking at them both with dark scrutiny, like they had just been caught in the locker room showers all over again.
Harry and Ron hadn’t done anything wrong, not even close, but the scene was scandalous all on its own. Snape glared down at Harry. “And what exactly is going on back here, Miss Potter?”
“N-Nothing sir,” Harry cursed herself for stuttering, her cheeks turning a soft pink with embarrassment as Ron side stepped and attempted to get out from behind her and looked at the professor with an innocent smile which was immediately wiped from his face with that infamous Snape scowl directed at him. “We were just um… Taking a small break. But we should really get back to the party.”
“I am sure they can spare you for just a moment, Potter… I only wish to convey a message for you,” Snape looked up at Ron and the boy immediately got the meaning and walked away from the two of them, his head falling down like he was just kicked in the shins.
“Message?”
“From Professor Dumbledore; He asked me to give you his best and hopes you enjoy your holiday. You see… He’s travelling.”
“Travelling where?”
Snape didn’t move for many minutes, and when he did, it was not to answer Harry’s question. He just turned and walked away. An overwhelming feeling of confusion and worry washed her entire body. Why wouldn’t Dumbledore say this to her himself? Was he already gone? Was Snape lying? What was the reason for all this bloody secrecy?
The feelings that Harry was feeling was beyond conflicting. On one hand, she wanted to know what was happening and do exactly what the headmaster asked her to do. But at the same time, she would feel awful if Ron had a lousy time at the party because of her. He deserved to enjoy the party as much as anybody else and be with his girlfriend throughout the entirety of it.
Harry went to rejoin her poor lost puppy of a boyfriend who was hiding away and talking to one of the only people he knew, Dean Thomas, the commotion that entered the party was immediately drawing her attention.
Filch was quickly making his way into the party room, and by the collar, he was holding onto Malfoy. His body was lashing to get out of the groundskeeper’s hands and save whatever was left of his pristine pressed collar to the blazer on his body.
“Take your hands off me, you filthy squib!” Malfoy sneered in rage… A face that Harry was reminded of when he had paralyzed her on the train. She may have not been able to respond, but the girl was still very much lucid regarding what she could see. She doesn’t recall feeling the pain when he kicked her in the face, but she remembers feeling it when Luna lifted the curse from her. Almost the same kind of pain she felt when Luna reset her nose that Malfoy snapped.
Harry never told anybody what he did. No one believed her when she said he was a Death Eater anyway, why bring up another one of his cruel actions towards her? She wasn’t lying to Ron… Just didn’t tell him the full truth.
The music to the party came to a stop as Filch got Slughorn’s attention. One of the photographers for the prophet almost took a photo, but Slughorn quickly stopped him.
“Professor Slughorn, I just discovered this boy lurking in an upstairs corridor. He claims to have been invited to the party—”
Before Filch could complete his sentence, Malfoy cut him off. “Okay! Okay! I was gate crashing! Happy?”
Harry nearly fell over when Snape walked by her, and his arm knocked against her shoulder and made her stumble on her feet. The defense professor loomed over Malfoy.
“I’ll escort him out…” Why did Snape always talk so quietly? It was so deeply unsettling.
Malfoy was quick to yank his jacket free from Filch’s hand and straightened himself out, looking up into Snape’s eyes in a challenging manner. What was he playing at? “Certainly… Professor.”
Harry was damned if she was going to miss whatever was about to happen in the corridor. Without another thought in her mind, Harry was bolting for the exit out of the back hall, the same exit that Hermione ran out, and raced down the halls. Once again, she was happy that she wasn’t wearing heels for mobility, and for sound.
She reached the end of the hall and carefully put her back to the wall, waiting for whatever was about to come. They were headed this way; she could tell by the sound of Malfoy’s distressed footsteps.
“Maybe I did hex that Bell girl. Maybe I didn’t. What’s it to you?”
There was a loud slamming against concrete and Harry jumped a little at the noise. Snape’s deep hissing voice responded.
“I swore to protect you! I made the Unbreakable Vow!”
“I don’t need protection! I was chosen for this… Out of all others, me!” A loud pause came from Malfoy before he continued. “I won’t fail him.”
“You’re afraid, Draco…” Harry inhaled slowly as she continued to listen. “You attempt to conceal it, but it’s obvious; let me assist you!”
“No!” Malfoy stopped Snape’s words immediately. “I was chosen! This is my moment!”
All the evidence was beginning to pile up against him. Malfoy couldn’t conceal it any longer to Harry; he was a damned Death Eater. The weight of this knowledge was hitting her hard as she hobbled her way back towards the party and attempted to try and hide her disdain for what she had just heard. Fear was racing through her body, anger bubbling in her soul… Malfoy didn’t hate her that much, did he? They weren’t friends but… He didn’t wish her dead… Right?
All these concerns were hitting Harry at once as she stepped back into the party and ran a hand through her unruly locks. As soon as she got back, she felt an arm go around her waist and she yelped in shock.
“Where did you go?” Ron mumbled as he pushed his face against her hair. “Thought you left without me.”
“I just… had to get some air,” Harry shrugged her shoulders a little and Ron could immediately tell that she was lying. His brow arched upward, and he looked down at her like he could see it in her eyes. And he could; she was upset about something.
“What happened, Harry?”
The raven-haired Gryffindor let out a breath and shook her head a little, running a hand across his cheek and gently leaning up on her toes to press a kiss on his cheek.
“Not tonight, okay? We can talk about it tomorrow, on the train. But… Not tonight. I just want to enjoy the stupid party.”
Ron could already tell that her enjoying the party after what just happened was more than out of the question. He let out a little sigh and shook his head, reaching down for her hand and pressing a soft kiss over her knuckles. “I have a better idea.”
Before Harry knew what he had in mind, her boyfriend was hauling her out of the party and towards the direction of the courtyard that was once again covered in a blanket of thick, heavy snowfall. It brought back so many warm and fuzzy memories for her. She remembers their first kiss in this very courtyard, both rolling around in the snow and giving as good as they could get.
Which means, it wasn’t far away from their little cupboard where her and Ron made love for the first time. The thoughts of that brought heat to her cheeks as she remembers her very first moment with her one true love. It wasn’t something so easily forgotten… Ron seemed to be thinking of it too. His grip on her hand tightened as he walked with her through the cold corridors outside. The snow at night was almost ethereal.
“We always seemed to make our own fun, mate. And it’s always better than whatever event we are forced to attend, ya know?” Ron nudged her a little and Harry responded with her own little shove.
“Hmm, maybe I should have invited someone else then. Didn’t mean to force you to be my date for this thing,” She teased. Ron put a hand over his chest and gasped like she had just hit him with a curse.
“Oh, that hurts babe. Like you would want to spend the evening with anybody but me!”
“Oh, shove off, you know that everyone is just dying for a piece of the ‘Chosen One’ as they’re now calling me,” Harry made a vague gesture towards herself, stopping for a second and moving her hands up and down across the length of her body with the silliest look on her face that Ron couldn’t keep himself from snickering at. “Chosen One… As if I needed any other nicknames. It’s getting a little annoying, ain’t it?”
“Yeah, a bit,” Ron slid both hands into his pockets as he watched Harry’s nose crinkle and she let out a long, exasperated sigh. Her breath went up like smoke from a roaring fire and she rolled her head back a little to show just how irritated the entire situation made her feel. Her whole life, everyone’s been calling her names. Everything except her real damn name! And it wasn’t Harriette; No, that’s a name that was way too long and formal for someone like her. Hell, one day she might just completely change it to just Harry. Would certainly make her feel more like herself.
That’s why she enjoyed Ron’s company so much even before they started dating. He never called her Harriette, not even when they met. She introduced herself as such, but he started calling her Harry to begin with. And since then, she stuck with that nickname. It was what she lived by now, and even wrote it on her assignments and homework. It felt like her, and it made her happy. Ron made her happy.
The incredible redhead always had this… never ending supply of good feelings for her. Only a few times had she not been able to be around him, and it was all in only a few short weeks. But at the same time, that was the dumbest fight they ever had so maybe it didn’t really count? Because they were quick to make up, which was nice. And had it not been for them making up, Ron may have never asked her to the dance in the first place, so she had something to be thankful for.
“Excited about seeing your mum and dad?” Harry gently slid her hand into his pocket and took his in her own, lacing their fingers together and smiling at how warm his hands always were in comparison to her own. Ron shivered for a second at the sensation before looking down at her and smirking.
“You know I am, little bird. It’ll be nice… Two weeks, no school, no problems, just you and the holiday. We don’t get enough time together, ya know?” Ron grinned as Harry rolled her eyes.
“What, sitting next to each other in almost every single class, doing our homework together, eating together, sneaking off together, that isn’t enough for you?” Harry looked up with playful eyes as she watched her boyfriend shake his head and stopped in his tracks, leaning back against the cold stone wall and wrapping both of his arms around her waist. Harry responded with wrapping her own arms around his neck as he leaned down and whispered on her glossed lips.
“I’ll never have enough time with you, my love,” Ron said it with such emotion, such love in his heart, it made Harry’s knees wobble under her dress. Ron doesn’t always use those kinds of pet names for her, but when he does… Oh boy, they do crazy things to her. She will forever be a slave to the man’s rumbling lion like voice. Nothing was sexier than him, and everything that made up him.
Harry shuddered against his body as her lips brushed his for a brief second. “I don’t think I tell you enough… You know, how absolutely amazing you are…”
“Now you’re just stroking my ego, darling,” Ron smirked as his lips brushed against her cheek and his hands slowly traveled from her back, down the length of her sides until he was grabbing at her hips and pressing her entire body against his own. Harry fumbled on her feet for a second before completely collapsing against him. Why was he always so fucking warm? It was unfair at this point!
“Puppy, I’ll stroke way more than just that, and you know it,” Her words came out sloppy and trembling. Whatever he was doing to her, by God was it working. Where did all this confidence come from with him?
Ron inhaled deeply, his hot breath tickling the sides of her face. “Oh, what did I ever do to deserve you, Harry?”
Harry whined a little as she slid one hand into his soft red locks. “You don’t treat me like a hero. You know the real me…”
Words left them both. No more were exchanged for the next twenty minutes. Just soft touches, sweet sounds, and fervent kisses between the two teens that couldn’t be separated even by use of magic. Harry clung to Ron with unkempt desire as his fingers traced up and down her spine, letting his hand drift down a little lower occasionally in order to grab at her gorgeous rear that was just made even more incredible in this dress that fit her better than anything he’s ever seen.
While Harry would have loved nothing more than to drag him away into that same broom closet and have a repeat of their fourth year Christmas, the night would only last for so long. And she was getting colder than she thought possible. By the time the two had broken their kiss, Ron could see how red her nose was and how her shoulders shook with shivers that she just couldn’t keep at bay.
“Not a winter bird, love?” Ron teased for a second before he reached down and began to shrug off his cloak without a second thought. Harry was about to object but the instant it was around her shoulders, all her complaints left her body and she melted into the warmth and scent of her Ron Weasley. Harry leaned her head down and sniffed at the collar and moaned happily.
“You poor idiot… You’ll never see this cloak again. It’s mine now,” Harry giggled as she wrapped it around herself like a blanket and shoved her face into the side of it. Ron snorted and gestured back towards the doors where they could hear the party beginning to wind down.
“C’mon love. Let’s go say our goodnights. The sooner we turn in, the sooner tomorrow comes, yeah?”
“You know what? That’s actually a brilliant idea."