Ron hovered in the doorway of the dormitory, one hand worrying the hem of his jumper. Outside, the common-room fire popped, and someone downstairs was arguing about the proper way to charm a pair of dress robes so they wouldn’t trip you on the stairs. “Harry,” he said, and then cleared his throat. “Er. Harry.” Harry looked up from the bit of parchment he’d been scowling at. “What’s wrong?” “Nothing’s wrong.” Ron came in and sat on the edge of his own bed, then stood up again. His ears had gone the color of a Bludger. “I was only wondering. About the ball. The wizards’ ball. Whether you’d… asked anyone yet.” “Not yet,” Harry said. He folded the parchment in half, then in half again, as if that might make the problem smaller. “I keep meaning to. Hermione says if I leave it much longer everyone decent’ll be taken.” “Right. Yeah.” Ron nodded too many times. “Only — and you can say no, obviously, I’d completely understand if you said no — but if you haven’t asked anyone, and if you didn’t particularly want to ask anyone, then maybe… well. We could go. Together. You and me.” Harry blinked. “You mean so neither of us has to find a partner?” “Sort of,” Ron said. He was studying the pattern on the rug as if it had personally offended him. “Or not sort of. I mean properly. I’d like to go with you. If you wanted. I’ve been thinking about it, and you’re — you’re all right, Harry. Better than all right. And I reckon we’d have a decent time, even if the music’s rubbish and the food’s those tiny things you can’t get a proper bite of.” A log shifted in the grate downstairs. Ron risked a glance up, then looked away again at once, the tips of his ears nearly glowing. “You don’t have to say anything now,” he added quickly. “I just thought I’d ask before you went and asked Parvati or someone and then I’d have to spend the whole night pretending I hadn’t wanted to. Which I would do, obviously. Pretend. If you said no.” Harry turned the folded parchment over in his hands. “I hadn’t thought of going with you,” he said, sounding faintly surprised at himself. “But I haven’t asked anyone else. And you’re right about the food.” Ron’s mouth opened, then closed. “Is that a yes?” “I think so,” Harry said. He frowned, as if checking the answer against some list he kept in his head. “Yeah. All right. We’ll go together.” For a moment Ron only stood there, freckles standing out sharply against the red. Then he let out a breath that might have been a laugh. “Brilliant,” he said, and had to say it again, quieter, as if he didn’t quite trust it the first time. “Brilliant. I’ll — I’ll tell Mum I need the good dress robes, then. The ones without the lace.”

there is no longer a moral way to be a doomer.

Its almost like.... youtu.be/0RZgaw_9Ctk?si=SIrq…

Community Notes out here taking bullets

Holy shit I should load some funds unto my X card and use that to pay for everything tomorrow that would be so baller

Two ways to win No way to lose Let's gooooooooo

Doing cool stuff this weekend

That's just malfoid Ron Weasley

Hung up some Halloween decorations today and now when I take the pudding brained chihuahua out to potty hes scared of the ghosts hanging from the tree out front

I regret to inform all parents of young children that the new meme replacing 6-7 is them repeatedly yelling "POV" while reenacting something

Ranch dressing is salad lotion

On the pyramid tiers of Social Morality, right above returning the cart is mocking people who park in handicap spots without tags.

Horseradish and potatoes are such a good pairing

Everytime I see a vest like this i assume its for smuggling Hotdogs

It do be like that