He gives me a daisy - our flower - and takes my arm. We are led through the Great Hall, upon a pedestal, setting a standard to which the others should compete with but never overcome.
After the food and drink comes the dancing. We are second to stand, after that Veela girl and her date. I don't like her much, though I admit she is beautiful.
He is a good dancer, and he swings me around the Great Hall, giving me wings of love and a halo of peace. We are meant to be.
Once enough people have joined the waltz, and our feet are on fire with fatigue, we leave. Being alone in the grounds will be a perfect ending to the night.
We talk, laugh, walk until our feet are sorer than should possibly be. He lifts me up (laugh) and sets me down on a bench (sigh).
Come closer (he does, understanding what my eyes tell him) hold me closer (he does, understanding the way my breath catches in my throat) kiss me (he does, knowing exactly what I like).
Between sunrise and moonset, I write this down, as it was the most perfect night one could possibly have with another.
(tears fall on the page. parchment flutters into a grave. she gives the poem to her lost love, a reminder of a night once spent together)
