Secretly

Secretly I'm wanting you

And I'm hoping you want me too

I smell your scent across the room

And I can't wait to get next to you

I watched him from across the common room. He was sitting there with Harry talking about Quidditch or something while attempting to do some homework. Every time I saw him there was this little spark inside me that went off. It was weird, but I liked it.

Whatever I see...

Whatever I hear...

Whatever I do...

Oh baby, has got me thinking of you

As I surveyed him over my Potions essay (which was looking very likely, even for Professor Snape) I was careful not to make it obvious. After all, no one was to know that I liked Ron in a completely non-platonic way. No one was supposed to know that whenever I thought of him it was always a fantasy or daydream that was full of some sort of passion--kissing or...something more intimate. During the summer, all I thought about was how I missed his smell, or the way he ran his fingers through his hair, or the way his tie was undone as soon as classes were over. I guessed that was what loving someone felt like.

Yes, I loved him. I wouldn't deny it. I was in much too deep to deny it.

Secretly, I'm wanting you

And I'm hoping you want me too

I smell your scent across the room

And I can't wait to get next to you

I had to go over there and talk to him. I was always getting this sudden urges to talk to Ron when I wasn't with him. I finished my essay with a strong closing paragraph and began to pack up all my books into my bag. I was done for the day, and I really wanted to go over and talk to the boys for the rest of night.

Whenever you speak...

Whenever you move...

Whenever you breathe...

Baby, let me touch you

I almost licked my lips as I made my way over to Ron and Harry, but I caught myself in time. I watched Ron and Harry argue over some stupid Quidditch team--probably the Chudley Candons, or whatever they were called (A/N: I know it's Chudley Cannons, I'm not stupid. But I'll bet Hermione doesn't--you know her Quidditch vocab. Wonky Faint indeed). Ron was so cute when he was mad. That was more or less one of the main reasons I fought with him so much. Cruel, I know, but I couldn't help it.

Secretly, I'm wanting you

And I'm hoping you want me too

I smell your scent across the room

And I can't wait to get next to you

As I got closer I surveyed his face again. It lately had become my worst habit. His face, dotted with freckles, was the cutest I'd ever seen--not that I go for looks or anything--even Lavender and Parvati had to agree. But then, they thought everyone was cute. Even Draco Malfoy, which I thought was going a bit far.

My favorite feature on his face were his eyes. They were really deep for a boy so shallow. I had never been one for gray eyes before I met Ron, but as soon as I looked into his (A/N: Yes, Ron's eyes are gray for Lioness in this fic). They were always full of some sort of deep emotion--fury, confusion, laughter. I could always tell what he really felt about something when I looked into his eyes.

Secretly, I'm wanting you

And I'm hoping you want me too

I smell your scent across the room

And I can't wait to get next to you

I put down my bag at Harry and Ron's table and, with a lack of anything better to say, I snapped, "I can't believe you haven't done your essay yet, it's due on Tuesday..."