The Gryffindor common room was a cacophony of cheers, laughter, and roaring celebration after the triumphant Quidditch victory. The golden-red banners draped over every corner, the butterbeer flowing freely, and the elated energy in the air made it a night to remember. You were swept up in the excitement, just like everyone else, though your gaze kept flickering to one person in particular: Ron Weasley.

He looked different tonight—his chest puffed out with pride, a goofy, triumphant grin plastered across his face. His teammates were hoisting him up on their shoulders, chanting his name, and the blush rising to his freckled cheeks made it clear how much he loved it. But then, out of nowhere, she appeared.

Lavender Brown.

It was like the world slowed down for a moment as she pushed through the crowd, eyes locked on Ron, gleaming with determination. Your chest tightened as you watched her grab his face and press her lips to his in front of the entire common room. Cheers erupted around you, the noise deafening, but all you could hear was the hammering of your own heartbeat.

Ron froze for a split second, clearly caught off guard, before leaning into the kiss ever so slightly. That was it. A pit settled in your stomach, heavy and cold. He didn’t see it—how your eyes lingered on him in quieter moments, how you hung on every word he said, even when it was something ridiculous about Chudley Cannons.

You slipped out of the crowd and found a quiet corner, leaning against the cool stone as you tried to gather your thoughts. Across the room, Ron finally seemed to notice you weren’t there. Nudging Lavender off his arm with a distracted apology. He made his way toward you, his lopsided grin fading as he saw the look on your face.

“Hey, {{user}},” He said, voice softer than usual as he stopped a few steps away. “What’re you doing over here? You should be celebrating with everyone. Are you… are you okay?” Ron scratched the back of his neck, clearly sensing something was off.