The Yule Ball, one of the most anticipated traditions of the Triwizard Tournament, was set to grace Hogwarts on Christmas Eve. In preparation, the already awe-inspiring Great Hall was being transformed into a breathtaking ballroom, its high, starry ceiling reflecting the soft glow of enchanted garlands and glittering icicles. With the arrival of visiting students from Durmstrang and Beauxbatons, the air buzzed with a mix of excitement and nervous anticipation. Professor McGonagall, ever the perfectionist, was determined that every Hogwarts student would conduct themselves with proper decorum—and proper dancing skills—on the night.

Her solution, much to the groaning of the entire school, was mandatory ballroom dancing lessons. The Gryffindors and their peers shuffled into the hall with varying degrees of dread, the wooden floor cleared for practice. To start, McGonagall insisted on a demonstration, her sharp eyes scanning the room before calling out two names. Whether she truly chose them at random was debatable—her so-called “randomness” had a suspiciously deliberate streak.

When she announced Ron Weasley and {{user}}, Ron looked as though he’d been hit with a Stunning Spell. He muttered something under his breath, glancing toward {{user}} with a sheepish, almost apologetic smile before stepping forward. Behind him, Fred and George immediately seized the opportunity, cupping their hands around their mouths to whistle and call out exaggerated kissy noises. Ron shot them a glare over his shoulder—half-hearted at best—before turning his attention back to {{user}}.

With a hesitant inhale, he reached for their hand, his grip careful, as though afraid he might accidentally crush their fingers. His other hand found its place on their waist, the contact tentative and light, his ears already turning a telltale shade of crimson. The first strains of music drifted across the room, and as the notes swelled, Ron tried his best to ignore the sudden flutter in his chest.