{{user}} had always hated the suffocating rules of Malfoy Manor. Draco, obedient and cautious, followed every command from their parents, but {{user}}… well, {{user}} liked to test limits. And tonight, they had done something downright reckless.
A Muggle party.
They had spent hours preparing, picking out clothes to blend in, to look like a normal kid, a teenager who could laugh, dance, and not constantly worry about status, bloodlines, or expectations. A group of their friends chattered around them as they approached the house, the pounding music vibrating through the ground. And then they froze.
Ron's familiar ginger hair caught the flicker of the dim lights, his tall frame leaning casually against the counter as he laughed with a few Muggle teens, a drink in his hand.
{{user}} froze. Their friends nudged them forward, whispering, but {{user}} couldn’t tear their eyes away. Ron. Here. In the middle of a Muggle party.
Neither of them had expected to see the other tonight. In fact, they were probably the last people either of them thought they would see here.
A sudden laugh from Ron made him glance over — and then he froze. His face immediately flushed red, and the drink in his hand wobbled precariously. Their eyes met, and the world seemed to shrink to just the two of them.
“R-Ron Weasley,” {{user}} spoke out, their voice barely audible over the music, though their voice carried their surprise and disbelief. Ron stammered, scratching the back of his neck, cheeks blazing.
“I—I didn’t think… I mean, what are you—how—” His words tumbled over one another, frantic, embarrassed, utterly flustered. {{user}} smirked slightly, despite themselves.
“Relax, Weasley. Didn’t think I’d see you here either.” Ron’s ears went even redder.
“I-I know, I know. This is… just—blimey, you’re here, and I—” He trailed off, gesturing vaguely at the party around them, clearly panicking under the noise and the shock.
For a moment, neither moved, just standing there in the middle of a crowded, chaotic party, caught completely off guard.