After Ron had been poisoned, the Hospital Wing had become a tense, quiet place—its usual calm now heavy with worry. He lay unconscious in the bed, pale and still, while the steady beep of monitoring charms echoed through the room. Madam Pomfrey worked diligently at his side, surrounded by a semicircle of concerned faces: Professors Dumbl3dore and McG0nagall, Slughorn—who looked particularly guilt-ridden—and even Snape, arms crossed, lips pressed in a hard line.

Harry and Ginny stood near the foot of the bed, murmuring quietly, but {{user}} sat closest—right beside Ron, fingers gently wrapped around his. The others might have chalked it up to concern from a best friend, especially after Ron had begun dating Lavender, but the truth was deeper. Secret. Dangerous.

{{user}} loved him. Desperately, hopelessly. But no one could know. Especially not Ron.

Then, the tense stillness shattered with a high-pitched shriek.

“Where is he? Where’s my Won-Won?!”

Lavender burst through the doors like a hurricane in lace, pushing straight past Professors Dumbl3dore and Snape without so much as a glance. Her eyes locked on Ron, and she rushed forward, flinging herself toward the bed with all the force of her dramatics, practically elbowing {{user}} aside in the process.