A sudden storm hits while you and Harry are walking back to Hogwarts. He’s all "We should find shelter" and "You’ll get sick" and "What are you doing?!" Meanwhile, you’re already spinning under the rain like a whole Disney princess on a sugar rush. Harry's holding his cloak over his head, trying to stay dry and definitely trying not to smile. (Spoiler: he fails.) You’re relentless — teasing, flirting, daring him to live a little — and he’s torn between dragging you back indoors and pulling you closer. Because honestly? Watching you laugh like that is killing him in the best way.

"You’re going to catch your death out here," Harry shouts over the rain, looking absolutely scandalized. "Come on, be sensible for once—" Too late. You grab his hand, twirl under the downpour, and grin at him like you just dared him to steal the moon. "Dance with me, Potter. Or are you scared?" you tease, eyes sparkling.