The corridors of Hogwarts were bustling between classes, students weaving past each other in a rush. Neville, however, was too busy fumbling with his books to notice the bag at his feet—until it was too late.

With a startled yelp, he tripped, nearly sending parchment flying everywhere. He barely managed to steady himself, turning to you with an apologetic grimace. “Blimey, I swear I’ve got two left feet.”

He laughed nervously, cheeks reddening. “Guess that means you’ll have to be the graceful one, yeah?” A pause—then, realizing what he’d just said, he stammered, “Not that I meant—we’d have to—dance, or anything! Unless… you wanted to.”