So here is my oneshot h/hr fanfic :)

She's sitting on the floor, in the corner. Her arms are wrapped around her knees in a non-successful attempt at warming up. A song plays from the radio. It's a quiet and beautiful song but the words don't mean anything to her. She's just hollow and desolate inside, like an abandoned ship wreck. It's easy to see.

He looks over to her with pity in his gentle green eyes. She longs for him but something holds her back. Then he gets to his feet and walks towards her. He holds out his hand, inviting her. She looks up into his face and she takes it. A tingling sensation runs down her spine as he lifts her gently to her feet.

His hands grope around her neck, fingers brushing her skin, and he brings the locket away from her. Heat rises up in her heart as he throws it to one side and takes both her hands tenderly. He starts to dance with her, pulling her from side to side, slow and rhythmical. A few beats later he fools around, and she finds a smile lifting her lips in spite of herself. He does all these stupid little twirls and spins her into his arms. A laugh escapes her taut, chapped lips.

The song slows. His arms are supporting her, gently but firmly, and he leans into her. She clings to him as though he is a lifeline, her only piece of comfort in this lonely place. She rests her head on his shoulder and breathes in the familiar, musky scent from his sweater. The last few beats from the song die but they continue to revolve slowly on the spot, holding each other. Something stiffens between them and they pull away from each other.

For a moment they both just hold each other's hands and gaze into each others' eyes. But then she closes your eyes and turns away sadly, retreating to her solitary corner. He hesitates, but then accompanies her as she sit herself down again, the spark that had lit inside her as they danced extinguished. He wants to make her happy, but he doesn't know what to do. So he just sits beside her and removes his sweater, draping it around her shoulders. It doesn't do much but she's grateful for it. She buries herself in his shoulder, and he wraps both arms around her.

There's so much she wants to say to him, as he starts to rock her, like a mother would to her child, gently and slowly, his heart beating against her, their own song. He means so much to her, but she can't put how she feels into words. So she just closes her eyes and sinks into his arms as he continues to rock her.

He's not Ron. He'll never be Ron.

But he's Harry.