The Gryffindor common room was alive with music and laughter, every corner lit by the flickering glow of enchanted candles as students moved to the beat, dancing and joking and losing themselves in the excitement of the evening. You couldn’t help but feel a little out of place, standing on the edge of the scene, a drink in hand as your eyes darted around in search of one person in particular.

And there she was. Mary McDonald.

The second you spotted her, your heart skipped, and everything else melted into the background. She was radiant, dressed in pink dress that caught the light with every twist and sway of her movements. Her dark curls bounced with each step, framing her face, and every so often she would laugh—soft, like music, as she chatted with Marlene, who was dancing right beside her. For the past hour, you’d been stealing glances, too nervous to do much more than admire her from a distance. It was hard to believe she was even real, let alone standing right there, barely a few feet away.

Suddenly, Mary’s gaze shifted, landing right on you. You froze. There was a moment—a heartbeat—where her eyes held yours, and you felt the world around you fade into silence. And then, her lips curved into a slow, warm smile.

It was like she was inviting you forward. Before you could process what was happening, Mary stepped toward you, her hand reaching out in a gesture so casual yet so direct, it made your chest tighten. Her fingers were warm as they curled around yours, gently but firmly pulling you toward her. You barely had time to process it as she led you onto the dance floor, her smile widening as she drew you close.

"I've been waiting for you to join me," she teased, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "Did you think I hadn’t noticed you standing there all night?"

She kept your hand in hers, placing her other on your waist, and the two of you fell into step together, moving to the rhythm as though you’d done it a hundred times before.