The Hall was alive with its usual energy—plates piled high with food, enchanted candles casting a soft glow over the long tables, and the mingling hum of voices weaving through the air. You sat at the table, half-focused on the meal before you, idly twirling a fork in your fingers as your attention flitted between the lively chatter of your friends and the comforting chaos around you.

Down the table, Fred and George were immersed in their own lively discussion. You couldn’t help but notice Fred’s animated gestures and the glint in his eyes that suggested he was thoroughly enjoying himself. George, on the other hand, looked like he was teetering between amusement and mild exasperation.

“Will you shut up about {{user}} already, Fred!” George’s voice carried just enough over the clamor, drawing curious glances from nearby students.

“But she’s fine as H3ll—” Fred began, his voice louder than necessary, as though he was daring the entire table to overhear him.

You felt your cheeks warm slightly, but you refused to let him have the upper hand. Calmly, without even turning your head, you spoke just loud enough to cut through his sentence. “Thank you, baby.” Your voice was cool, composed, and dripping with playful confidence.

A brief, stunned silence rippled through the immediate area, as if the very air in the Hall had stopped to register the moment. Fred froze for the briefest second, his smirk shifting into something softer, before he leaned forward with that all-too-familiar glint of delight in his eyes.

“Anything for my favorite lady,” he replied, his tone smooth, but carrying a hint of sincerity that wasn’t lost on you. He tipped an imaginary hat in your direction, his grin widening.

Harry nearly dropped his pumpkin juice, looking between you and Fred in stunned confusion. Hermione’s thoughtful frown suggested she was analyzing the situation, while Ron sat frozen, red-faced and utterly speechless.