another love; harry potter

thirty-seven

"Er...well...I needed a shirt, and Harry Potter was right there."

I shuddered to myself. 

"Can you at least turn around?" I said desperately. "I literally don't have a shirt." Harry tossed a hoodie over to me. I sighed and pulled it on, realizing it was warm and...smelled like Harry. I raised an eyebrow and turned around to see Harry grinning at me. 

"It suits you, you know." I frowned and looked down, realizing it was his Quidditch sweater. 

"Oh. Thanks, but you can have it back in a second, I'll just grab a-"

"Keep it, it suits you." I sighed and was about to grab my own shirt, but then I realized that the smell of him was actually kind of comforting, so I didn't say anything and strode over to my bed, grabbing 'Othello' and pulling the covers over my legs. 

"Can I help you?" I asked, looking up and seeing that Harry was still standing there. 

"Yeah. I'm really, really sorry, Pheobe, you know me, I say bullshit when I get mad-" he paused and furrowed his eyebrows. "You used to say reading before bed was how you calmed yourself down," he said suddenly.

"Yeah, it's calming, and you're still an arse."

"You still have nightmares, don't you?"

"No-"

"Don't lie." I scoffed loudly and set my book down, meeting his gaze. 

"You can't do that, Harry. You can't tell me you won't wait for me, that you're so willing to go find another girl, and then come back the same night begging for forgiveness, and assume I'll give it to you." I said, forcing myself to not start crying, and cleared my throat. "You can't do that to me. You told me you loved me, you made me feel like I was the only girl you cared about." I sighed shakily as his gaze found his feet. 

"And then the second you're annoyed about something, you throw it all away?" I looked down to my book, tapping the cover. "Words hurt, Harry. You know I still don't know bullshit, you know that I've been struggling to figure things out with my dad, but on top of that, you just had to start something else, didn't you?" 

"How can I apologize?"  

"You can't." I said, shaking my head. He looked up, guilt all over his face. "Harry...maybe this is for the best. Maybe we're better off as-"

"Don't say that," Harry said desperately. "Please, Pheobe, I love-"

"Harry, I'm not quite sure you know what that means either," I said quietly, looking away. "So maybe you should stop throwing it around as if it doesn't matter."

"I do know what it means," Harry said, "and you are the only person I have ever felt comfortable saying that to. And I don't care if you don't know what it means yet, I want to be the one to teach you what it means, and I will wait as long as you need." I met his gaze unsteadily. 

"Then you're going to have to wait more, Harry," I said softly. "I can't forgive you yet. You said all that so- so carelessly," I said, the sadness in my voice definitely evident. "You told me you wouldn't wait as though you were saying you didn't want a biscuit, Harry, you said it and you threw away everything we had. And I don't care if you're sorry. You hurt me." He sighed.