Garreth Weasley prided himself on being confident. Reckless? Absolutely. A little too impulsive with potions? Sure. But nervous? Hardly.

At least, that was true until you came along.

You were, without a doubt, the most brilliant person he had ever met. Smart enough to outmatch Sharp in a debate, witty enough to put Peeves in his place, and somehow always effortlessly put-together even after sprinting across the castle to make it to class on time.

It didn't help that you were absolutely breathtaking.

And yet, despite all that, you actually seemed to like him. Him. The walking potions disaster of Hogwarts.

It didn't make sense.

Garreth was currently slumped over a table in the common room, staring at you from across the room like a lovesick fool while you sat by the fireplace, flipping through a book.

"Merlin's beard, Weasley," came a familiar, exasperated voice. "Are you going to ask them out or just keep looking at them like a Crup that got left outside in the rain?"

Garreth groaned, dragging a hand down his face before turning to glare at Leander Prewett, who was watching him with the kind of unimpressed expression only Leander could pull off.

"I'm not looking at them like that," Garreth grumbled.

"You absolutely are."

"Shove off, Prewett."

Leander smirked, leaning back in his chair. "It's just tragic, really. Here you are, pining like a third-year who just discovered love potions, when you could be doing something about it."

Garreth let his head drop onto the table. "You don't get it."

"Oh, I do." Leander tilted his head toward you. "You think they're out of your league."

Garreth opened his mouth to argue, but – damn it – he wasn't wrong.

"Come on, Weasley," Leander continued. "You do realize they like you, don't you?"

Garreth lifted his head slightly. "You think?"

"I know." Leander rolled his eyes. "I mean, how do you explain the fact that they willingly sit next to you in Potions even after witnessing your last cauldron explosion?"

That was... a fair point.

Leander clapped him on the back, nearly knocking him forward. "So, quit wasting time and go talk to them, before I do it for you."

Garreth scowled. "You wouldn't."

Leander grinned. "Try me."

That was enough to get him moving.

He took a deep breath, ran a hand through his already-messy red hair, and made his way over to where you were reading by the fire.

You looked up as he approached, and Garreth swore his heart stopped.

"Garreth," you greeted, smiling.

Merlin, you had no right to say his name like that. Like it was something important.

"Hey," he said, shifting his weight. "Uh– what are you reading?"

You raised an amused eyebrow but held up the book. Advanced Potion Theories.

Of course. The universe was mocking him.

"Oh," Garreth said. "Right. That makes sense."

You laughed softly, closing the book and giving him your full attention. "You alright? You look like you've just downed one of your own questionable potions."

That wasn't entirely inaccurate.

"I, um..." Garreth took a breath, forcing himself to focus. "I was actually wondering if – maybe – you'd want to go to Hogsmeade with me this weekend?"

Your expression flickered with something unreadable for a second before you smiled. "Are you asking me on a date, Weasley?"

Garreth swallowed. "Yes?"

You tilted your head, studying him for a moment. "You do realize I've been waiting for you to ask, right?"

He blinked. "Wait, what?"

Your smile widened, and before he could fully process what was happening, you reached over and touched his arm.

Garreth was fairly certain his brain short-circuited.

"I'd love to go with you," you said simply, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

For a second, Garreth just stared.

Then, as the words sank in, he grinned—so wide his cheeks actually hurt.

"Brilliant," he breathed. "Absolutely brilliant."

And as you gave his arm a small, reassuring squeeze, Garreth realized something.

Maybe – just maybe – you weren't out of his league after all.