As Arcturus wandered through the stone corridors of Hogwarts, he couldn’t ignore the buzz of excitement in the air. It was Valentine’s Day, a day of fluttering hearts and exchanged gifts. All around him, students blushed and laughed, offering each other chocolates, enchanted cards, and small bouquets. He didn’t care much for the holiday himself. Public displays of affection made him uncomfortable, and the idea of giving cliché gifts had always felt a bit empty. But this year was different. This year, he had her. Clutched in his hand was a bouquet of her favorite flowers, wildflowers he’d carefully picked and transfigured into something breathtaking. It wasn’t flashy, but it was thoughtful. And he knew she’d see the meaning behind it.

Still, as he made his way toward the Ravenclaw tower, he felt a little self-conscious walking with the bouquet in plain sight. He noticed a few passing glances, a smirk or two, but he kept his expression composed, refusing to let the nerves show. When he finally reached the entrance to {{user}}'s dormitory, he took a steadying breath and knocked on the door.