The Great Hall was sparkling under thousands of floating candles, decked out in its finest winter decorations. Students buzzed excitedly about the upcoming Yule Ball, some already chattering about their dates, others nervously sneaking glances across the tables.

At the Gryffindor table, Neville sat hunched over his plate, poking at his food without really eating. Harry, Ron, and Hermione kept exchanging looks, nudging him under the table.

—"You have to ask them," Ron muttered, stuffing a roll into his mouth.

Neville shook his head frantically.

—"I can't! They're way too popular. They'll say no, I just know it!"

Harry grinned mischievously.

—"Don't worry, mate. I've got a plan."

Moments later, the candles above flickered—and a giant piece of parchment appeared, floating above the tables. In glittering gold letters, a list of "perfect pairings" for the Ball materialized. Gasps and laughter broke out around the hall.

And there, near the top, glowing brightly, it read:

{{user}} + Neville L

The hall erupted in whistles and teasing cheers. Neville looked like he wanted to crawl under the table and disappear. His face turned the deepest shade of red imaginable.

You glanced up, catching sight of your name beside his, and then looked straight at Neville.

He fumbled with his goblet, then stood up so suddenly he almost knocked over his chair.

—"W-would you, uh, maybe... maybe want to go to the Ball with me?" he stammered, loud enough for half the hall to hear.

The laughter quieted a little. Everyone leaned in, waiting.

Neville stood there, fists clenched at his sides, determined despite how much he was trembling, his wide eyes locked on you with something between hope and terror.