Dennis Whitaker x Reader, Jesse Van Horn x Sister!Reader
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This is a little fic for @domaystic
Based on day 28: Asking For Advice
Dennis is hopelessly in love with you.
You're hopelessly in love with him.
Unfortunately neither of you are able to come to terms with what to do next.
Not until Dennis asks for a little advice.
Without even realising that the advice, is coming from your brother.
Notes: wholesome fluff. strong language. just two people in love, stumbling until eventually they get pushed together. Jesse, Santos and Princess tugging the strings to make this happen.
Word Count: ~3.6k
Swift.
Ever since Santos had dubbed you with that little nickname.
You were known as Swift amongst those in the ED.
Very rarely going by your name.
Choosing instead to be introduced by your first name when speaking with patients. Claiming that your last name was a bit of a mouthful.
It was just easier, that was how it was. Barely anyone glanced at the name imprinted on your badge.
Barely anyone realised what it was.
Not ever piecing together the similarity between your last name with another member on staff.
You were known to be quick.
Efficient.
Straight to the point.
It was fitting.
Concise, just like your own behavior.
It’s not that you cut corners, or rushed through assessments. No. You were simply clear.
And as your nickname suggests, Swift.
But that didn’t mean you didn’t take the time to talk with your patients, whenever it felt needed. Your swiftness would be put on hold.
Even pausing amidst the rush just to hold their hand for just a moment.
You’d take the time to chat with your colleagues, whenever time allowed. Or whenever Santos dragged you into the conversation.
Eyes flickering around you, always alert.
Though if ever you weren’t with a patient or occupied with charting then you could be found spending your time swapping stories with the nurses, divulging in their gossip and news.
Whilst Perlah and Princess would tease you. You would poke fun at Jesse, who would simply roll his eyes with a laugh. Elbowing Donnie with a wiggle of your brows as you’d probe him till he cracked with a chuckle.
But without question, your attention never failed to drift towards a certain student doctor.
With golden brown curls.
The light dusting of freckles upon the bridge of his nose.
How when the light hit a certain way, his eyes would glisten. No matter how tired or worn he was, his eyes would simply twinkle.
So beautifully bright with hints of blue, murky with green.
Dennis Whitaker.
How he had captured your sights. How you’d unintentionally drift towards his presence. Without even meaning to.
The clumsy, sweet young man. Who fumbled over his words, who had this air of hesitation only for it to melt away as the shifts went by. It was a trait you began to admire.
And in doing so.
You had developed a crush on him.
Brought to your intention as Princess asked, out of the blue, having witnessed you and Dennis awkwardly talk. Fidgeting as you spoke.
It was clear to her at the very least.
That you were smitten by him.
Tugging you aside as he walked away, “So, do you have anything to say?”
“About what?”
“About you know? You and certain farm boy”
Your face burned, flushing in an instant, eyes glancing all around you.
“What do you mean by that?”
She looks at you knowingly, “Don’t act so surprised, it’s obvious you have a soft spot for him”
“Incoming Trauma 2 minutes out!” Dana called out. “Swift, c’mon you’re up”
Your eyes met with Princess’ once more, “Don’t say anything about this”
She rolls her eyes with a nod. Whilst you walk away, prepping for the trauma.
Without even realising it.
Princess had set into motion a series of events.
All of which involved you being hyper aware of Dennis’ presence, hyper aware of your own behavior ensuring that you avoided him at all costs.
Leaving conversations mid way, coming up with whatever excuses that came to mind.
Switching directions if ever you saw him coming.
Only being in his presence if ever work forced you to.
Simply put. You were hiding from your own feelings.
Not ever wanting him to know how you felt.
Not wanting him to know how he made you feel.
Simply not wanting to face rejection…
And your habits had become all so painfully clear to your brother.
Who had caught you doing this over and over, during the course of a number of weeks. Had seen you keep your tone clipped as you spoke with Dennis.
Had watched you spin over the idea of liking this young man.
Had watched you keep him at arm’s length.
Had watched you close yourself off.
And Jesse was tired of watching this.
Was tired of how everytime he hung out with you, this hung in the air like a thick smog. Unable to wade through it all. Every time he broached the subject you’d simply shut down.
Change subjects.
You were always good at doing that.
So Jesse was forced to watch you from across the room, as your eyes darted over to glance at Dennis, only for you to turn away as soon as Dennis’ eyes met yours.
Jesse was ready to throw hands with you to force you to confront your feelings.
But instead he held himself back. He just observed from afar.
Observed as Dennis noticed your distance.
Had noticed the way you avoided him.
Had noticed how you’d leave as soon as he entered a conversation.
Had noticed how Dennis was not handling this well at all. Spiralling much like you were.
Both of you were unable to see what was right in front of you.
Leading Dennis to now.
Mind elsewhere. The day had been long, achy feet, tired limbs, just the usual. And just like usual you had been avoiding Dennis.
Trinity shared a look with Jesse, while she rolled her eyes. Sighing as she patted Dennis’ back, “Buck up, huckleberry. You’re looking like shit”
“Gee, thanks Santos,” he said with a sarcastic huff.
“Tell him Jesse, don’t you think he’s losing colour or something,” She drags Jesse into the conversation.
Who only shrugs, “I think he naturally looks like that – no one who works the dayshift ever sees a lick of sunlight”
Trinity clicks her tongue with a small tut, “No, this is the look of a lovesick puppy. And you know what’ll cure that?”
“What?” Dennis questioned. Eyes averted as he went over some notes.
“Telling the woman how you feel”
His head shoots up looking at her in shock, waving his arms, almost dropping the notes to the floor.
“Shh–”
“Or what? You think she’ll know what we’re talking about,” she folds her arms over her chest. “Everyone knows you like her. You just need to say it”
“How do you know that–Nevermind. Do you think that’s why she’s avoiding me?” He panics once more.
“Huckleberry, let me give it to you straight,” Trinity turns to him, with a serious look painted upon her features, “It’s obvious to everyone that both you and Swift like each other. That’s not up for debate, right Jesse?”
“Right,” he nods, leaning against the desk.
“What if she hates me?”
“Oh buddy,” Jesse sighed, “You are way off”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Dennis asks, brows furrowing.
“Dennis,” Trinity groans out in frustration.
She already had to deal with this at home, and she was not going to let it continue for a second longer. She tugs Princess while she passes by, “Princess tell him what we all know”
“That you’re hopelessly in love with Swift, and that she’s down just as bad for you,” she says dryly with raised brows looking at Dennis.
Her eyes darting to Trinity as she switches to Tagalog, “He can be so thick sometimes”
While Trinity chuckles from her words. “Don’t I know it”
They watch as he completely melts beneath their attention. Cheeks flushed. As he scratches the back of his neck, nerves wrack his body.
He takes a deep breath in.
“If that’s true then, why has she been avoiding me?”
They all groan and roll their eyes.
Princess follows up, “Don’t you watch any movies at all–”
“Uh-no, I don’t really time–” He begins to say.
Before she cuts him off, “My point is, she likes you and just doesn’t want you to know.” Trinity nods in agreement.
“How do you even know she likes me?” Dennis questions further. Still stuck in disbelief.
They begin listing off every reason possible, anything to convince him of what they already know.
But it was something that Jesse said that caught his attention.
“She also stares at you”
So casually. Just a simple fact.
But it had knocked the wind out of Dennis’ chest, “What?”
Jesse simply looked at him, “You’re not exactly subtle either”
The words visibly short-circuited him.
“She…” Dennis swallowed hard. “You really think she likes me?”
All three of them answered immediately,“Yes.”
He stared at the floor. Then rubbed nervously at the back of his neck.
“Say that’s all true, what do I even do now?”
“You ask her out,” Trinity offers.
Princess suggest, “Take her to a nice dinner, or the movies–no actually dinner’s better, lets you talk more”
Her words only make Dennis shrink a little from the idea. As much as he’d love to take you to dinner, to a beautifully nice restaurant.
…he wasn’t quite in a position to do that.
Some expensive restaurant where he’d spend the whole night worrying about prices and whether he looked stupid holding the menu wrong.
Jesse noticed the shift instantly.
Breaking Dennis’ chain of worrying thoughts.
“There’s this place–a club downtown,” Jesse offers casually, “Little music club, live bands, good food, cheap drinks”
Jesse concealed the growing smile. Just maybe he could push you both together.
Help get you out of the funk you were in.
“You really think she’d like that?”
Jesse nods, “Definitely, she’s always talking about that place. It’s a perfect place for a date–and the live music gives you something to talk about if the conversation gets awkward.”
He knew it for a fact.
You loved the live music. The atmosphere of it all.
You had even dragged Jesse there a few times. And each and every time, a bright look would find its way to your eyes.
Brilliant and gleaming.
Letting your troubles melt away as the music would envelope you.
He adds with a small laugh, “It also doesn’t hurt that it’s cheaper than Princess’ extravagant ideas”
“Didn’t know you were cheap Jesse,” Princess teased, a playful look in her eyes. Knowing full well that he was your brother.
“Don’t you know?”Jesse arches a brow, before joking with a dead serious tone, “Young med students are today’s starving artists.”
Trinity shook her head at the joke, whilst Dennis laughed weakly despite himself.
But then the panic returned. The distraction subsides.
“What do I even say to her?”
“Do we have to hold your hand through everything, huckleberry?” Trinity complains.
Princess says, “You just ask her”
A look of fear crosses Dennis’ face. “What if I sound stupid?”
Jesse snorts, “You will sound stupid”
While Princess slapped his arm, chiding him with a glaring look.
“But,” Jesse continues, “She’ll think it’s cute”
Princess nodded in agreement, “Just keep it simple. Remember she already likes you”
Dennis exhaled slowly.
Simple.
Right.
Easy.
Except it absolutely wasn’t.
Because asking you out meant risking something.
And risking something meant potentially losing the weird fragile thing already existing between you both.
Still–
Every time you smiled at him his entire chest tightened.
Every time you touched his arm in passing he forgot basic medical terminology.
You had his mind spinning with barely even a glance from you.
After the pep talk. He had begun building his courage to ask you out. Mentally prepping himself. Staring in the mirror trying to talk himself into it.
But with each attempt his courage wavered.
The first time he was about to ask, you had been pulled away.
The second time. Well. Someone had bumped into you causing you to spill your coffee all along your scrubs. That was another opportunity gone…
And by the third.
Jesse had physically shoved him forward whilst passing behind him.
A betrayed look flooded Dennis’ eyes as he looked up at Jesse.
Who had only sent him two thumbs up. And a cheeky grin.
Walking across the room to assist Dana, who had sent him a curious look.
“Sure you know what you’re doing Jesse?”
He only smiles, “So long as it makes her happy”
“Does Whitaker even know you’re related?” Propping a hand on her hip with a questioning glance.
Jesse only shrugs.
“I honestly don’t think so, if he does then he’s acting way too calm about it”
Dana lets out a laugh, as they lean against the desk, eyes flicking over to watch you and Dennis.
Glancing up from your charts you look at Dennis as he stumbles slightly.
Brows knitting, as you steady him. Head cranning over your shoulder to catch just a glimpse of Jesse’s grinning face.
You turn your attention back to Dennis who stutters out an apology.
Waving it off, you interrupt, “You’re all good,” with a small quirk of your lip.
He hesitates.
Standing there.
Words stuck in his throat as he looks at you.
“You okay?” You tilt your head. Ordinarily you would’ve left already, you would’ve tried to discover a reason, anything, to leave before the butterflies in your stomach could take flight.
“Yep,” he says before doubling down, “...totally okay.”
Your fingers began to twitch, tapping against the papers you were holding.
Whilst Dennis’ palms began to grow sweaty as his nerves built up once more. Swallowing the lump growing in his throat.
“Listen–I uh, was wondering, I was hoping if you’d want–”
Shit.
Abort mission.
Abort. Abort.
If you could take a glimpse into his mind you would see the sirens wailing, blinking red lights as he went into an internal meltdown.
“Yes?” You questioned, shaking him from his thoughts. A patient look in your eye.
So gentle.
So alluring.
It had settled his mind, making the words fall out, “There’s this place downtown. Uh you might know it, they’ve got live music, apparently good food, and well–I thought that maybe if you’re free sometime we could go. Together?”
His chest tightens.
As though unable to breathe while he waits for your response. A sense of dread creeping in.
But then your face lights up.
Surprise crossing your features.
“You’re asking me on a date?” You ask softly.
He gives you a small nod, “...yes?”
And then you smile. One that makes his heart flutter. Pounding in his ears.
Sincere. Sweet.
“I’d like that”
“Really?”
You laugh softly from his words, as relief floods both of your systems.
“Really, really”
“Great!” he answers too quickly, too loudly, before softening his tone, “How does this Thursday sound?”
“Perfect”
“Good, good,” he nods, as he walks away backwards, only to bump into Perlah who raises a brow as he mumbles out, “sorry”
You stifle a laugh, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks.
Did that really just happen?
You were going on a date with Dennis…
…
And it went perfectly.
Well it was a little rocky in the beginning. A little awkward and stilted. As you bit your lip, sipping upon your drink.
Unsure of what to say, while the band began to play.
But then he started talking, commenting on the music. The awkward air dissipating. Finding a middle ground with you.
Loving the way you smiled. Loving the way your eyes closed as you were absorbed in the music.
Pulling him up on his feet as you danced with him. So encouragingly sweet.
Finally able to talk.
To talk without fear. Without feeling like you were overstepping.
The nervousness still lingering there beneath the happiness. Like he still couldn’t quite believe tonight had gone as well as it had.
Because it had gone well.
Better than well.
The little downtown club that Jesse had suggested had been perfect.
Familiar territory for you, as it brought out a side to you Dennis hadn’t seen before. How the ambient music had made the tension ease from your shoulders.
Cozy without trying too hard.
Strings of warm lights overhead, old brick walls, tiny candlelit tables tucked close together.
The live band had played soft blues and indie covers while the two of you shared fries off the same plate and slowly drifted from awkwardness into ease.
Into comfort.
Into something that felt dangerously close to natural.
You’d learned Dennis tapped his fingers against glasses when he was nervous.
That he loved terrible horror movies but got squeamish at eye injuries. That he’d once nearly fainted during his first anatomy lab and lied about it for months.
And Dennis had learned the sound of your real laugh.
Learned how your eyes lit up when the band played a song you knew.
Learned you absentmindedly drew shapes into condensation on your water glass while thinking.
He hadn’t wanted the night to end.
Still didn’t.
Smiling as laughter spills out from you as Dennis recounts a story from his childhood, your arm linked with his as you walk out of the club.
“This was perfect, thank you,” You said, pulling away from him slightly, as your hand slipped into his.
“Yeah,” Dennis nods, as his lips curl up.
How beautiful his eyes were beneath the moonlight.
“How’d you know I’d like this place?”
His other hand scratched at the back of his neck a little bashfully, “Well, it wasn’t all my idea, Jesse made the suggestion”
You blink in surprise, brows raising from his words.
“Oh? You asked my brother for advice?”
He leans in, as you watch his face fall.
“Jesse’s your brother?”
“Yup. Jesse Van Horn,” You confirm, before morphing into a smile, “I’m surprised you didn’t know”
And ever so quick.
Without even double guessing himself he says, “I had no idea, we only ever call you Swift at work, sweetheart.” Mind racing with questions about how it was possible for him to not piece it together.
The pet name simply slipped from his mouth as though it had always belonged there just waiting to be spoken aloud.
Reserved just for you.
Leaning in, you press your lips soft and gentle against his cheek. Lingering for a moment, as the warmth blooms across his cheeks.
Murmuring you reply, “I like it when you call me sweetheart”
“And I like calling you sweetheart,” he whispered.
And for once, Dennis didn’t shy away. Didn’t stammer or stumble.
His fingers gently circling little patterns upon your hand. Smiles spread across both your faces.
Knowing that this was the beginning of something lovely.
You inch closer and closer to him, until soon you feel the warmth of his breath caress your cheeks.
Cars passed by. The music from the club hummed faintly through the walls. And somewhere down the street drunken shouts echoed before morphing into laughter.
But there beneath the lamplight. Dennis doesn’t notice any of it.
Not when you were standing this close.
Not when your smile had him go soft around the edges.
All he can notice is you.
The beauty of you.
How you made him feel.
Leaning in to you, his eyes flicker down to your lips, as he whispers so gently, a huskiness lacing his tone, “May I?”
Smiling you nod, head tilting up.
His hand reaches up to cup your cheek, head ducking down, his nose bumps into yours.
“Sor–” Before he can even finish, you lean up, curling your hands around his neck, as your lips melt against his. Sweet and delicate, while you find your rhythm.
Before pulling away, a dazed look in his eyes while you catch your breath.
“So, does this mean I get a second date?” A teasing look in your eye.
Dennis lets out a quiet breath of disbelief, smiling wider now.
“Yeah,” he says, “Yeah, sweetheart. Definitely”
You lean back up to press a chaste kiss to his lips.
Sighing softly.
Blanketed in peace.
…
Standing across the room from Dennis. You offer him the smallest wave, a little smile curled up onto your lips.
Who eagerly waves back, a smile stretched across his face.
Watching as you walk away, places to be and patients to see.
Stuck in a dreamy haze. The memory of the date filtering into the forefront of his mind. The memory of your lips against his–
He almost jumps out of his skin as Jesse’s hand lands upon his shoulder with a slight squeeze.
“So, how’d it go?”
“Good, uh. Thank you. The club was a great choice,” Dennis thanked with complete sincerity. Standing straighter. Looking at Jesse in a new light.
No longer was he just a nurse he worked with.
No.
He was your brother.
Eyes watching him, waiting to see what Jesse would say, how he would react.
Jesse only nods, demeanor relaxed. “Good”
Luring him into a false sense of security.
But then his grip on Dennis’ shoulder tightens ever so slightly, tugging him a little closer.
Muttering, “If you hurt her. You’ve got me and the whole nursing staff to deal with.”
Dennis gulps, as Dana, Princess and Perlah come into view.
Standing there at the hub. Eyes narrowed as they glanced at Dennis.
“Uh–”
Your voice cuts through the air, swatting Jesse away.
“Don’t scare him off–he’s been real sweet”
Jesse smiles, throwing his hands up in a shrug. “Just making sure it stays that way”
You only roll your eyes, with a small laugh.
You glance over to Dennis who simply smiles at you.
How it crinkles the corners of his eyes.
As though it were only you in the room.
Feeling luckier than ever.
While everyone in the Pitt could call you Swift.
He was lucky to call you, his sweetheart.
Just as you were lucky to him yours.
Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed this story! Just a whole lot of sweetness to cause a toothache. the idea of Jesse being involved with matchmaking for his sister is very amusing to me - only to flip a switch and be serious, getting the whole nursing staff to back him with his teasing jabs to Dennis now that he's dating you. (imagining little quips in passing that catch him off guard 😂) anyways, hoped you liked it. Let me know what you thought ✨
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Summary: Almost a year after Quirrell’s death, Greta and Lockhart fall into a quiet evening routine that proves harder to keep uncomplicated than either of them expected.
WC: 1.3k
Tags: Character Study, Grief, Comfort, Friendship, Lockhart Being Lockhart, Greta Dealing With Lockhart Being Lockhart, complicated relationship, friends but it's not simple, routine as coping
Notes: Day 28 of Angstpril: “Confession” Hosted by @chaos-company.
Almost May.
Almost a year since Quirinus died in the walls of this very castle.
The morning light moved from gold to white.
Greta looked at Gilderoy, seated on her left. His breakfast was gone, and he looked out the Great Hall’s windows.
She almost missed it over the buzz until it came again. A voice.
“All right then, Professor Linden?”
On her right, Severus looked expectantly at her, a mostly empty dish of porridge pushed to the side.
“I’m… fine?”
“That’s a question, not an answer,” he said. “I’ll wait.”
She glanced over at Gilderoy again, who was now happily embroiled in one of his morning newspapers.
“He’s missing one,” Severus observed. “There are six newspapers, usually.”
“The Times didn’t deliver,” Greta replied, turning back. “He looks for—”
“Articles about himself, no doubt. But I wasn’t asking about him.”
Greta considered, eyes resting on Severus. They’d not spoken to one another much. He was four years older and, in fact, had instructed her Potions class in Seventh Year.
Her, and Gilderoy, and Quirinus.
“I’ve been better,” she said at last. “Everything’s a bit fraught. And the night patrols are demanding.”
She didn’t add that, as a Muggleborn, it was only a matter of time before the basilisk targeted her next.
“You have nothing to worry about, surely,” Severus said. “With such a great hero close to your side.”
Greta’s back stiffened, though posture alone couldn’t protect Gilderoy from his own folly.
“Now I’ve doubly nothing to worry about, with you asking after me so kindly,” she said.
Severus sat back.
“Quirrell used to sit where you are. Every meal. Did you know that?”
“I did know that, yes. He told me.” She took a breath, thinking back on Quirinus’s letters. “He liked sitting here. Said you were good dinner company.”
“He was tolerable. Capable of intelligent conversation.”
Well, that was high praise.
“He was especially fond of the ‘student body’ versus ‘studentry’ debate,” she said.
“I hope you don’t intend to take up the ‘studentry’ mantle on his behalf.”
Greta laughed, surprising herself.
Gilderoy looked at her, eyebrows raised. Once he saw her enjoying herself, he smiled and dropped back into his newspapers.
“Oh, no, I hated ‘studentry’. You have no idea,” she said. “It’s so impersonal. Like a registry.”
Severus’s hands relaxed slightly. She hadn’t even realised they were tense.
“And it’s imprecise and non-standard,” he added.
“Quirinus thought ‘student body’ sounded grisly, and that it’s not an actual body,” she said. “He wanted it to be like ‘citizenry’. You know, aligned towards a common goal.”
“Citizenry is not a proper word. And a student body has a head,” Severus said. “Head boy, head girl. Besides, he accepted the phrase ‘body of work’.”
Laughing again, Greta held up both hands.
“I know, I know. You don’t have to tell me. He and I went round and round about it, too.”
The student tables were mostly empty now, and she stood too, excusing herself.
Somehow, she’d whiled away the meal.
---
Gilderoy let himself into her quarters shortly after nine that night, which was late for him, unless he was supervising a detention, that was.
He seemed in good spirits, however, flapping the Times at her triumphantly.
Must be no corridor patrol for him tonight. It made him dreadfully irritable, even with her.
“There was a five-owl collision, it turned out. Caused a delay,” he said, flinging himself onto her chaise. His soft lavender cloak floated dramatically down around him.
Greta looked up from the medical text in her lap and stared at him as he fanned himself with the newspaper.
“A five-owl collision took all day to sort out?”
“Heavens, no. I’ve had this since three this afternoon.” He smiled. “I was waiting to read it with you.”
“If you haven’t looked at it yet, how do you know there’s anything about you to read?” she countered.
He scoffed. “Greta, you wound me. I could read your star sign again, I could read the society pages, I could read travel reports to you.” He paused to flap the paper open. “But I did scan it briefly, and I am in here.”
He ducked behind the paper as she threw a pillow at him.
“I knew you looked, Gilderoy. You can’t lie to me.”
“I wasn’t lying.” His eyes reappeared from behind the paper, then the rest of his face. “I was being coy.”
Greta sighed, but couldn’t stop a smile. She got up and put away her medical journals, then flopped down beside him on the chaise.
With a wave of her hand for him to continue, Greta tilted her head back against his arm.
“Fine. But I’m reading over your shoulder this time,” she said. “I don’t trust you today. You’re looking awfully puckish.”
He grinned down at her, then rested his thumb against the article about his book, Magical Me.
“In Magical Me, celebrated author Gilderoy Lockhart recounts the extraordinary adventures that shaped his rise to prominence—”
“Will you write about the basilisk here at the school, do you suppose?” she asked, looking up at him. “It’s certainly been an adventure.”
Gilderoy’s smile faded, and he looked thoughtful. “I suppose it depends on how things turn out,” he said carefully.
“You mean it depends on whether I get petrified. Or worse.”
He took in a breath to reply, then saw her face and seemed to think better of it.
“No, I mean what I said. It depends on how things turn out.” He hugged her briefly. “I suppose it doesn’t mean much after all these years, but I wouldn’t let anything happen to you if it were in my power to stop it.”
The wording he chose didn’t escape her.
“Quirinus would’ve loved this, you know,” she said. “Magical creature running amok.”
Gilderoy shook his head. “I don’t think he would, though, Greta. Not if it put you at risk.”
She sighed. “I suppose you’re right. I just miss him, Gilderoy. All the time, still.”
“I know. And I’m sorry. I’m not a very suitable replacement.”
He went quiet long enough for Greta to count his heart rate. A nice, athletic 65 beats per minute. When he spoke again, there was no sign of his sunny affect.
“I realise you’d never willingly choose me over Quirinus. But with him… gone, I thought…” Gilderoy trailed off.
Unusual for him. He always knew exactly what he wanted to say.
He resumed. “I thought if I waited with you long enough,” he gestured around her quarters, “like this, you might choose me someday.”
Greta looked up at him again, at an utter loss for what to say. How did anyone answer a thing like that?
“I do love you, you know. I’m just frightened,” she told him. “I’m sorry I never said that very much.”
“I know.” One second passed. Then two. On the third second, his smile reappeared, but it wasn’t the real one. It was the book cover smile. “Listen, I have just the cure. Why don’t you let me patrol the corridors with you tonight?”
Part of her wanted to say no. He wasn’t very good company at night; the hours would be filled with him grousing about the frizz in his hair.
At the same time, she had no desire to be alone, so she nodded.
“All right, just this one time. And thank you.” She tapped the Times. “Now, finish reading this review to me, then we can have tea and freshen up.”
Gilderoy’s smile transformed into the real one, and he picked up his place as though he’d never left it.
“Celebrated author Gilderoy Lockhart recounts the extraordinary adventures that shaped his rise to prominence, offering readers a rare glimpse into the courage, charm, and quick thinking that have made him a household name across the wizarding world.”
