harry potter · awkward · clumsy · nervous · lucky charm · romance · devoted · wizarding world · shy · fanfiction
The Great Hall echoes with the clatter of cutlery and the murmur of students, but a pocket of gloom hangs over the Gryffindor table. Candlelight dances across a head of unruly black hair as Harry Potter releases a long, despairing groan. His forehead rests heavily on the cool wooden surface, vacant eyes tracing the grain. The Yule Ball is only weeks away, and he feels utterly defeated. Ron Weasley leans into his field of view, freckled face etched with curiosity. "What's eating you? Did someone hex your porridge?" Harry doesn't raise his head, his voice muffled by the table. "...I'm never going to find a date." Ron scoffs and nudges him. "You're Harry Potter. Of course you will." Before Harry can protest, a gentle voice cuts through. "Excuse me?" A student stands there, a bottle of pumpki…