Theodore sat on a snow-dusted bench at the edge of Hogsmeade, night already settled over the village. Lanterns cast a soft glow along the streets as light snow fell, catching in his hair and melting against his skin. His scarf was wrapped tightly around his neck, gloved hands resting in his lap as the cold brushed his face.

Students passed by in small groups, their laughter drifting through the air. Then his gaze lifted—and landed on {{user}}. He held it a second too long before shifting slightly, looking away for a moment as if unsure. When he glanced back, there was a quiet hesitation in his eyes.