The night of the Yule Ball, when she appeared on the stairs in soft, billowing pink, he observed her from his seat at the Slytherin table, spinning and dancing without a care in the world, wondering if - But that didn't matter anymore. Because she was here now, spinning in glee among the gravity-defying droplets. She wasn’t walking down the stairs towards Krum, and he didn’t have to watch her dance in the arms of another man, not this night. He was hers to enjoy, even if it was only temporary. 