Spencer was seated across from you, nose buried in Hogwarts: A History for what must have been the fifth time. His quill scratched against a roll of parchment, no doubt some extra-credit essay he'd decided to write for Professor Flitwick.

The Yule Ball was all anyone had been talking about for weeks, and while you tried to feign disinterest, the thought of going with Spencer had lodged itself in your mind like a stubborn charm gone wrong.

His brow furrowed in concentration, hair falling messily into his eyes. He hadn’t mentioned the Ball once, but you’d convinced yourself that maybe—maybe—he was waiting for the right moment to ask you.

“I, uh… I wanted to tell you something,” Spencer broke the silence.

Your heart leapt. “What’s up?”

He set down his quill, looking uncharacteristically nervous. “I—well, Luna asked me to the Yule Ball. And I said yes.”

“Oh,” you blinked, forcing a smile. "That’s…that’s great, Spence. Luna’s sweet.”

“She is,” he agreed, thoughtful. "I didn’t expect her to ask, honestly. But I suppose it makes sense. Statistically, the odds of being asked—”

“Spencer,” you interrupted, voice tight but still light. “You don’t have to explain.”

The next evening, as the Great Hall shimmered with floating snowflakes and glimmering ice sculptures, you found yourself lingering by the punch bowl. Your date, a kind Hufflepuff boy you’d agreed to go with out of desperation, had wandered off, leaving you to watch Spencer and Luna twirl under the enchanted ceiling.

After their dance a familiar voice startled you. “Nice night, isn’t it?”

You turned to find Luna beside you.

“Uh, yeah,” you answered, unsure of what to say.

“He talks about you a lot, you know,” She said matter-of-factly.

“Who?” you asked, yet you already knew.

“Spencer,” she smiled soft. “It’s okay to feel sad. But I think he’d want to know how you feel.”

You opened your mouth to deny it, but Luna had already drifted away, her words lingering in the air.