The Great Hall buzzed louder than usual as breakfast plates clattered and owls swooped overhead. At the Hufflepuff table, you sat with your back straight and your jaw set, pretending very hard not to notice the familiar shock of red hair a few tables away. First term. That’s where it had started—one careless comment, one badly-timed hex, and somehow Ron Weasley had decided you were his favorite person to argue with in the entirety of Hogwarts.