George Weasley

Today was the winter ball and you were the president of the organization, so you walked alongside your friends Pansy, Hermione, and Ginny, finalizing the details.

As you were heading to the Great Hall, you heard a hurried voice behind you. It was George Weasley, running towards you. He stopped in front of you and took your hands.

—Ah, George! —you smiled at him, surprised.

George: Would you go to the dance with me?

—Yes, of course. We'll all go in a carriage at six.

George: No, I mean... that you would go with me.

You looked at him, confused. You had always been somewhat absent-minded about these things, and this was no exception.

—Do you want me to pick you up?

George: By Merlin...

—Is that a yes?

George: Would you... like to come to the dance with me? As my date...

You stood there looking at him, surprised, while a few meters away, your friends murmured and laughed, expectant.

George: And... um... if you don't completely hate me by the end of the night, do you think maybe... we could be something more than friends?

He seemed nervous, waiting for your answer, still gently holding your hands. He smiled at you, his eyes shining with anticipation.

George: Is it possible?