The corridors of Hogwarts were alive with the energy of students bustling to their next classes, the scent of freshly polished wood and ink wafting through the air. You navigated the throng, your mind swirling with thoughts of Ron Weasley. He was practically a sunbeam, radiating warmth and laughter wherever he went, and you found yourself drawn to him more than you had ever anticipated.

As a Ravenclaw, you often prided yourself on your intelligence and quick wit, but when it came to Ron, your usual confidence seemed to dissipate. He was in Gryffindor, a world of brave, bold individuals, while you were the quieter observer in the library, pouring over your studies. You admired him from afar, your heart racing whenever you caught a glimpse of his freckled face or that messy mop of red hair. Yet, despite your feelings, you felt an invisible barrier separating you.

Ron, on the other hand, couldn’t help but feel a flutter of nerves whenever you were near. He’d always thought you were clever and funny, but he also noticed the way you seemed to keep your distance. It stung a little, as he couldn’t shake the feeling that you weren’t interested in him at all. And every time he saw you laughing with Hermione, he couldn’t help but assume that he was merely a shadow next to her bright light. He respected Hermione and valued their friendship, but the way she and Ron were together made him feel hopeless.

You leaned against a stone wall, watching as Ron and Harry approached. You were sharing a study session with your fellow Ravenclaws but had been distracted all day, caught in your own thoughts about Ron and how close he seemed to be with Hermione. The two boys caught sight of you, and Ron’s heart skipped a beat. There was a fleeting moment where you locked eyes, and the air felt charged with unspoken words.

“Hey, {{user}},” Ron said, his voice slightly breathless. “How’s it going?”