The Gryffindor common room was alive with its usual nighttime energy. The fire crackled in the hearth, laughter bounced off the stone walls, and a few second-years were attempting to balance sugar quills on their noses while a group of older students cheered them on.

You, however, were planted firmly in your favorite armchair, pretending to read your Transfiguration textbook while actually listening to the familiar chaotic energy of Garreth Weasley.

He was loud.

And ridiculous.

And somehow, your favorite person in the castle.

Garreth was standing on one of the couches, dramatically recounting a story about his latest potions disaster to an audience of fellow Gryffindors. "...and that's when Sharp gave me the look. You know, the one that says, 'Merlin help me, I'm seconds away from expelling you.'"

His friends erupted in laughter, and even you had to fight a smile.

Then, suddenly – mid-sentence – Garreth's eyes locked onto yours. His grin faltered, but only for a second. Then, with an exaggerated leap off the couch, he made his way straight toward you, plopping himself into the seat across from yours.

"Fancy seeing you here," he said, smirking.

You raised an eyebrow. "Garreth, we see each other every day."

He grinned. "Lucky me."

You rolled your eyes, but your stomach did a ridiculous little flip anyway.

Before you could react, he leaned forward, bracing his elbows on his knees. "Alright, listen. I've got a plan."

"That's never good."

He ignored you. "I say we escape this castle for a bit."

You blinked. "Escape?"

"Okay, maybe not escape. But a late-night adventure. You, me, a bit of sneaking around. What do you say?"

You crossed your arms. "And what exactly do you have planned, Weasley?"

He waggled his eyebrows. "The kitchens."

You stared.

"That's it? That's your grand adventure?"

"Free food, your delightful company, and the chance to absolutely get caught? What more could I ask for?"

You sighed, shaking your head. "If we get detention, I'm blaming you."

Garreth clapped his hands together. "That is completely fair."

And with that, he grabbed your hand – actually grabbed your hand – and practically dragged you out of the common room before you could change your mind.

***

"I just wanna take you anywhere that you'd like..."

You shushed Garreth for the third time as you tiptoed past a sleeping portrait.

"Relax," he whispered, grinning. "I've done this loads of times."

"That's supposed to make me feel better?"

"Of course! It means I'm experienced."

You sighed. "It means you're an idiot."

He placed a hand over his heart. "An idiot you agreed to sneak off with."

You had nothing to say to that.

Within minutes, the two of you slipped into the warm, bustling kitchens. The house-elves greeted Garreth enthusiastically – he was clearly a regular – and in no time, the two of you had plates piled high with pastries, biscuits, and even a mug of hot cocoa each.

Garreth plopped himself onto the counter, patting the space beside him.

"Come on, love," he said, smirking. "Live a little."

You rolled your eyes, but joined him anyway.

The two of you ate in comfortable silence for a while, the only sounds being the clink of plates and the distant bubbling of a cauldron. (Garreth had, apparently, convinced the house-elves to let him use their kitchen for potion experiments. You didn't even want to know.)

Then, out of nowhere, he spoke. Softer.

"You know, I've been wanting to do this for a while."

You froze mid-bite. "What, sneak into the kitchens?"

"No." He chuckled, shaking his head. Then, more serious: "This. You. Me."

You swallowed hard, heat creeping up your neck. "Oh."

Garreth leaned in, resting his chin on his hand as he studied you. "You don't look nearly as surprised as I thought you'd be."

You gave him a look. "Garreth. You flirt with me constantly."

He blinked. "You noticed?"

"...Are you joking?"

"Maybe." He grinned. "But you never stopped me."

You held his gaze, heart pounding. "Maybe I didn't want to."

His grin faltered. Not in a bad way. More in an "oh wow, this is actually happening" way.

Then, hesitantly – like he was checking one last time – he leaned forward, so close you could feel his breath.

"Can I kiss you?" he whispered.

Your entire brain short-circuited, but you nodded.

And Garreth predictably, enthusiastically, wonderfully didn't waste another second.

His lips met yours, soft and certain. It was warm, sweet, and perfectly imperfect – because in his excitement, he almost knocked over a plate of biscuits. (You barely noticed.)

When you finally pulled away, Garreth's face was flushed, his expression an adorable mix of exhilaration and disbelief.

"Wow," he breathed.

You laughed. "That good?"

"Better."

And then, because he was Garreth Weasley, he kissed you again.

And this time, you weren't letting go.

***

The next morning at breakfast, Garreth dropped himself into the seat beside you, looking far too smug.

Leander Prewett raised an eyebrow. "Why are you grinning like that?"

Garreth leaned over, whispered in your ear.

"Think they'd notice if I kissed you right now?"

Your face flamed, but you just nudged him with your elbow. "Eat your breakfast, Weasley."

He smirked. "Whatever you say, love."

And from the way he was looking at you, you knew this was only the beginning.