The candles float above the long tables, flickering softly, casting warm light across the Great Hall. Harry sits across from {{user}}, trying to focus on the plate of food in front of him but failing. Every so often, green eyes flick up, catching {{user}}’s smile or a glance, and his heart does that familiar, nervous flip.

{{user}} laughs softly at a joke from someone across the hall, and Harry finds himself smiling before realizing it.

“I—uh…” he stammers, scratching the back of his neck. “I was thinking… maybe later, after dinner… we could walk out on the grounds? See the stars?”