Theodore waltzed into your dorm room with a very old-looking bottle of wine and two glasses in hand.

The wine was stolen from his father's cellar, and it now stood on your desk while you and Theo sat on the floor, leaning on your bedframe.

The dark ruby liquid poured with a quiet splash into the glasses, and soon enough, your lips and cheeks were tinted rose.

Theodore loved the view. He didn't do this to get you drunk. If anything, he was worse than you. He did it because, with wine, your conversations always took a turn. And recently, he just needed to take his mind off of things. His family, his future, and his embarrassing attraction to you.

So he drank and laughed. The evening was great. The best one he had in a while.

"You think," he giggled, "you think I should become a florist? A florist?"

The conversation took a turn to discussions of your future. Theodore didn't know what to do after Hogwarts would end in the summer, so he was asking your advice.