The Great Hall buzzed with its usual morning chaos, but Ron barely noticed. His face was a distinct shade of red, his ears burning as he fumbled with his goblet of pumpkin juice.

“W-What?” He coughed, nearly choking on his drink. “I wasn’t staring! I mean—maybe a little, but not in a weird way! Just—” He groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “Blimey, can we just pretend that didn’t happen?”

He dared a glance at you, then immediately regretted it when his blush deepened. “Merlin’s beard, I’m making a right fool of myself, aren’t I?” A pause. Then, grinning despite himself, he shook his head. “Go on, then. Have your laugh.”