The war left its scars on everyone, and you were no exception. But tonight wasn’t about the past — or at least, you told yourself that as you stepped into the bustling Muggle club Luna had raved about. The air shimmered with soft lights, music thrumming through the floorboards, and the scent of something floral and unfamiliar hung in the air. You glanced around, catching sight of your friends scattered throughout the room, each lost in their own little worlds.

And there was Ron.

He stood at the edge of the crowd, broad-shouldered and tall, the low lights casting a warm glow over his freckled skin. His red hair caught the light, tousled in a way that made your chest ache with something you couldn’t quite name. He wasn’t the boy you’d known at Hogwarts anymore. The years had hardened him, carved out the insecurities that once clung to him like shadows. But some things hadn’t changed — the way his eyes sought you out in a crowd, the quiet protectiveness that never wavered, even when unspoken.

“Thought you’d disappeared,” Ron murmured when you approached. His voice was low, rough, but there was warmth in it. The kind of warmth that made you feel like home, even in a place as foreign as this.

“I was just… looking around.” You smiled, and for a moment, his gaze softened. He looked like he wanted to say something, but before he could, someone else cut in.

“Hey, want to dance?”

It was a stranger — someone you barely knew, all confidence and easy charm. They held out a hand, and without thinking, you took it. You weren’t sure why. Maybe it was the music, or maybe it was the need to feel something other than the weight of lingering memories.

Behind you, Ron froze.

His jaw tightened, and his hands flexed at his sides, the familiar callouses on his fingers catching the light. You knew that look. He wasn’t the best at hiding his emotions — never had been. And right now, jealousy flickered in his eyes, burning like embers beneath the surface.

But he didn’t say anything.