Honestly, the audacity some people have! Mary had been stood up. Again. She sat on the steps outside the Great Hall, arms wrapped around her knees, watching the enchanted ceiling swirl with stormy gray clouds. It figured. Valentine's Day, of all days, and she was left alone while couples strolled past, hands entwined, whispering sweet nothings. She told herself she didn’t care—that she was used to this by now—but the slight sting in her chest told a different story.

"Alright, that’s enough of that," {{user}} declared, suddenly appearing beside her, offering a hand.

Mary blinked. “Enough of what?”

“Sulking,” they replied, tugging her up before she could protest. “We’re not letting your night go to waste.”

She barely had time to ask what that meant before she was being pulled through the dimly lit corridors, laughter bubbling up in her throat despite herself. It wasn’t until they reached the kitchens—where a very helpful house-elf happily supplied them with a tray of chocolate-dipped strawberries and pastries—that she realized {{user}} had no real plan.

"You're improvising," she accused, though her tone held no real bite.

"And yet," {{user}} mused, plucking a strawberry from the tray, "this already seems like a better date than whatever idiot stood you up."

Mary huffed, but a smile tugged at her lips as she took a bite of her own strawberry. “You might have a point.”