I’ve been sitting on this for weeks and I’m so excited to finally share my digital painting for Garreth Weasley Fest 2024 ❤️ My prompt was Blindfold. Whoever submitted that one, I hope I did you proud!
Huge thanks to @cuffmeinblack and @ellivenollivander for organizing the fest! It was a great way to push myself to try some new things, a nice excuse to stare at his face, and an absolute pleasure to hang out with the Garreth Girlies (yes this is gender-inclusive) on the Weasley Discord.
Thank you to @cuffmeinblack & @ellivenollivander from @garrethweasleyfest for organising this project for us to show appreciation for our favourite ginger 💖
I’ll have to say, this is my very first time joining something like this, and I was nervous about doing it right. I was even worried about not making it in time due to my packed schedule but hey, I made it!! 💖
My prompt was Modern!AU Cooking Class with Garreth and this is my idea of it. Many hours of lo-fi beats were played during the creation process… 😆
summary: Garreth has a bit of a crisis when the reality of growing up starts to hit hard. While trying to overcome self-doubt and bottle up the explosion waiting to happen, she’s there to show him that there’s nothing wrong with a little chaos.
tags: allusions to adhd, alcohol use, seventh year, awkwardness and fluff, literal fireworks, too many food metaphors?, friends to lovers, gryffindor!reader, garreth is an ace at pining, beater!Garreth because yes obviously, the “wearing his sweater” trope, seniors and their existential crises, mc only referred to by she/her pronouns
word count: 5.6 k
rating: T
a/n: my entry for @garrethweasleyfest ! the prompt I used was “explosion” (kind of got inspired by explode - mother mother)
read on ao3
Garreth wasn’t all that good at really explaining the inner workings of his mind, but perhaps he could give it a go.
He might be biased, but in a way; he thought people could be compared to potions. They’re messy, complex, and each have their own set of ingredients that make them what they are — and change how they react. Some people have a little extra rose petals to them, some a sprinkle of stardust, and others are just…pure poison.
In Garreth’s case, his brewing tended to say a lot about his own concoction of self.
Of course, for most of his life, he never really considered that there might be something fundamentally wrong with whatever recipe God or whoever had used to create him. It wasn’t until seventh year when he was finally considered a grown wizard that Garreth began to suspect… and to wonder if there was any leaf or powder out there that could be thrown in to stabilize him.
In Garreth’s defense, he had a lot on his mind that day.
Between his growing stack of homework assignments, early morning Quidditch practices three days a week, and the NEWT study group he’d been strong-armed into joining by Natsai and his Aunt, it was a wonder he had any working brain cells left at all. And that didn’t even count the time he spent on his own, er… creative projects.
So it wasn’t all that surprising that he’d accidentally broken a golden rule of potion-making in his sleepy endeavor at a cure for ague. Not once as his knife rocked against the cutting board did he consider that everybody else was flattening the blades and pressing down instead, and the rest of his friends were too oblivious to, either.
“— But then, he tried to kiss me! No request, no warning, nothing! One second I’m mid-conversation about centaurs’ rights, and the next his tongue is two inches from my face! All of that time wasted when I could have been doing any of the million other; more important things I have going on!”
Oddly enough, hearing about his friend’s failed attempts at courting (which were rather numerous) was the best part of his day so far.
Garreth nodded along politely, offering a vague “mhmm” and “you can’t be serious” at appropriate intervals, gaze flickering between his workstation and the witch in the midst of a passionate rant while turning her ladle idly in her own cauldron. He’d never been good at strictly keeping his eyes on his own work, and it was that much harder with her directly beside him; her vest unbuttoned and cheeks fairy floss pink from the vapors surrounding them.
She gave a resounding huff, dropping the ladle to rest her elbows on the textbook open in front of her. “All that is to say; I’ve come to the conclusion that men are incorrigible.”
“Sounds fairly accurate,” Garreth snorted. He gently nudged her off of the book (they often shared his, as it was filled with helpful notes) to double check a measurement.
Even if some little voice whispered that reasonable was boring and she should keep her — ahem — mind open to other possibilities, he dutifully ignored it.
“Although, we’re not all pigs, you know. Some of us have a spot of…well. Class, I suppose.” He grumbled.
“I hope you’re not referring to yourself,” her laughter rang out like the peal of a bell. “You’re a lot of things, Garreth, but you’re not exactly the epitome of a gentleman.”
His face pinched, and again she chuckled, which was a small consolation.
It stung because it was true. Garreth wasn’t exactly a rake by most standards, but he flirted with too many witches and wizards and had snogged half that number besides to be much else. He was a terrible dancer, didn’t have a fortune to inherit (even if he had been the eldest Weasley), and flaunted most rules and regulations.
So, no, he wasn’t winning any awards in Witch Weekly for Bachelor of the Year.
To spite her, he did the gentlemanly thing and conceded, albeit not so gracefully. “I’m only trying to say…you shouldn’t lump us all in with a few bad apples. I certainly wouldn’t have disappointed you like that.”
“How comforting to know. I’m still sticking with my hypothesis, but thanks for trying.”
Well, now he was thinking about how he would kiss her, if given the chance.
(This was purely for scientific reasons, of course.)
Garreth, eager to salvage what remained of his pride, readied another reply as he sprinkled the flakes of dittany into his lightly smoking cauldron. It would have been a good one, too, if not for —
“Garreth!”
There was only a hair of a second between her shouting his name in warning and what was possibly one of his most impressive explosions to date. Even though she lunged for him, she was too late to stop the blast from sending him reeling backwards with a hand over his burning-hot face and a very unbecoming cry of surprise.
Having expected him to be closer, she stumbled in her attempt at pushing him out of the way, and thus they collided like two atoms — tumbling to the stone floor in a jumble of limbs and hissed curses.
“Come on, seriously, Garreth?” Sebastian groaned from an adjacent potions station. He, along with a few others who’d been close to the blast, were coughing and waving away billowing clouds of smoke.
Natty sighed. “That’ll be another ten points from Gryffindor.”
But their protestations fell to the wayside once he was peering up at the sheepish face of his savior; no more than a few inches away. Within kissing distance, even.
Wait. What?
“Fuck. Ow. Sorry,” she groaned, trying to untangle their aching limbs as she lay half-splayed across Garreth’s chest.
It was then that his traitorous mind started paying attention to how warm she was, how bright that ring of pure gold in her eyes was, how infuriatingly good the blend of mallowsweet and smoke clinging to her like a second skin smelled…
Shiiiiittt. Shit, shit, shit.
“No, it’s, uh, it’s my fault. Totally my fault, I wasn’t, er…paying attention,” he panted. The wind had been thoroughly knocked out of him — and it wasn’t just because her elbow had struck him right in the stomach when they’d fallen.
When she managed to sort herself out and hastily climb to her feet, that stinging feeling from before returned, and Garreth didn’t notice the developing bruise on his tailbone one bit.
“Are you alright?” She asked.
“Oh, er, I think so,” he stood up, legs wobbling like a newborn thestral, and dusted off his robes. “My pride took the biggest blow. Though I suppose I should count myself lucky I had the Hero of Hogwarts to save me.”
He waggled his brows, and her jaw went slack before she was doubled over in a fit of raucous laughter.
“What?! It wasn’t that funny.“
“No, you —“ she can hardly get the words out between breathless giggles. “Garreth, your eyebrows.”
Reaching up, his fingers found the ridge just above his eyes — where, indeed, great chunks of what was once thick ginger hair are missing. “Bollocks. That’s the third time in six months.”
The unfortunate loss of his eyebrows (and dignity) became yesterday’s news when she traversed the newly formed space between them to rub what he assumed was soot off of his nose, still chuckling to herself. He resisted the urge to brush away the wayward hairs sticking to her forehead in kind.
“I’ll give you this — you’re definitely not most men,” she grinned.
It was probably an insult, but all Garreth heard was a ringing endorsement. Against the odds, he cracked a lopsided smile of his own.
Maybe he’d even call it a victory.
Professor Sharp waved his wand, and the thick fumes disappeared, allowing them all a good glimpse of his signature long-suffering scowl.
“Ten points from Gryffindor. Shocking, I know,” the ex-Auror sighed, resigned. “And I expect that cauldron to be replaced within the fortnight.”
In the spirit of further self-reflection, Garreth knew that their unceremonious meeting on the dirty floor of the Potions classroom wasn’t some hit-him-over-the-head moment of recognition — even if most of his revelations came in that form. This one had been creeping up on him since fifth year, like a wily sort of poison; disguised with a sweet scent to throw him off.
But just how massively fucked was he, you may ask?
That became clear one rainy afternoon. Not just any rainy afternoon, mind you, because those were a galleon a dozen during autumn in the Scottish Highlands; but the afternoon of their first Quidditch game of the year against Slytherin.
Which didn’t help the fact that his head was already so not in the game.
It started out well enough, with Gryffindor managing to make several goals in a row that had their swaths of supporters in the stands crowing with pride. Garreth did his best to keep up as he weaved and dodged and looped around the field, trying to focus solely on the hunt for Bludgers. Of course, this required him to pay equally close attention to his teammates lest they fall victim to one of the bloodthirsty balls.
One teammate in particular more than the others, perhaps.
Flying was made all the more difficult by the sheets of icy rain pelting his face. Not even the goggles – with the assistance of an Impervious Charm – were helping him distinguish much more than vague blobs of color streaking through the cloudy sky. This, he justified, was why he started to miss more swings than he made and almost dropped his bat (twice). It wasn’t Garreth’s fault the elements were working against them.
Despite that, they were still forty points up when the conniving snakes switched tactics and started going after Gryffindors’ three female Chasers. Natty was an expert at evasion, and Nellie tended to fly high to avoid them… but not her.
She always had to be in the bloody thick of it, didn’t she?
It might have been annoying, if it wasn’t so damn impressive. Garreth couldn’t help but admire the way she moved; how she’d feint and crack a little smile each time someone fell for the trick. The way her red sweater clung, dripping, from her frame and strands of hair curled around her wet forehead were particularly distracting, too.
For the first time in his career, Garreth found himself wishing he was in the crowd – just so he could watch her.
Sebastian tossed the Quaffle to Imelda over Natty’s head – only for his face to contort with rage when it was snatched from the air between them. Garreth whooped proudly when she took off towards the goal posts. The first Bludger was hot on her tail, but so was he, maneuvering between her and the ball. He spent the next few minutes as her guardian until having to turn tail at the last minute to rescue Lucan.
The next events happened so quickly he couldn’t quite recall much but this: a familiar, feminine cry of alarm from behind him, the brown blur of a Bludger streaking towards him, and the reverberation in his arm when his bat connected with it. There was a thunderous crack, and then another scream.
What he’d meant to do was send it towards any of the three Slytherins trying to overtake her, but instead…
Garreth’s entire world narrowed down to the moment when she just barely managed to duck out of the Bludger’s path. He’d come to a screeching halt on his broom, hovering mere feet away from her with his eyes wide as saucers behind his foggy goggles, something sinking inside him as the Slytherins flew off with the Quaffle. The stadium erupted into cheers for them seconds later.
“What the hell was that?” She panted, her indignant scowl apparent even through the downpour. “You almost took my bloody head off, Garreth!”
“It — it was an accident. And you’re fine, right, so no harm, no foul?” He had to shout to be heard over the spectators and the wind.
“An inch to the left and I wouldn’t have been fine at all! I don’t know what’s wrong with you, but you need to get it together!”
“I just –”
She sped off so fast the resulting wind made him shiver. Either Garreth was simply losing his touch, or there was something seriously wrong with him lately. Cursing to himself, he shook off the chill her anger had left him with and the shame that followed, and threw himself back into the game comforted by the knowledge that he’d be able to get roaring drunk at the after party.
By the time the party was in full swing, Garreth had already downed more than his share of the sneakily procured liquor (courtesy of yours truly, Sirona’s unrelenting generosity, and several bribes to the house elves in the kitchens). Someone had enchanted a few of the lamps to change color occasionally, throwing red and green and blue lights around Gryffindor’s common room, which teemed with House members in Quidditch jumpers and all other manner of memorabilia. Even little Doge and Dumbledore had emerged briefly to shyly congratulate the team.
Not even the jubilant music pouring from the gramophone or the well-earned laughter of the partygoers could drown out what was going on inside Garreth’s head.
He’d never embarrassed himself so profoundly at a match before. Quidditch, like potion-making, was one of the few areas Garreth excelled in, and he couldn’t even do that right. Ever since school had started up again, he’d been a mess. Exploding cauldrons, racking up more detentions than ever, always saying the wrong thing…
It was seventh year, for Merlin’s sake, and he was a grown wizard now. But while everyone else was coming into themselves, it seemed like he was just coming apart.
So instead of enjoying the victory, Garreth had taken to drowning his sorrows in drink while watching from the sidelines; neck-deep in an early quarter life crisis while slumped in one of the armchairs. Leander found him there eventually, his freckled face a mask of concern as he leaned against the wall beside him.
“What’s with the sour face?” Leander raised a brow. “We just beat Slytherin! I thought you’d be dancing on the tables or something.”
“I’m not really in the dancing mood. Go on, I’ll live vicariously through you.” Garreth grumbled.
“As much as everyone would probably love to see that, I’d rather find out what’s got your wand all knotted up.”
Garreth sighed, raking the hand not currently clutching a glass of Firewhiskey through his still-damp curls. “You saw what happened, Lee. The team’s probably pissed at me for being a massive disappointment, especially…”
He gestured vaguely to the hero of the hour (the hero of every hour of every day as far as he was concerned, and she’d earned the title several times over) across the room. She was talking with Natty, Nellie, and Cressida by the fireplace, her smile brighter than the flames’ glow that lit her from behind. A clawed hand squeezed at his heart.
“Oh, that? That was…I mean, you made a minor miscalculation. Most of them have forgotten already, I reckon.” Leander’s eyes darted to the side — as they always did when he was lying horribly.
“A minor miscalculation that could have led to the untimely death of one of my best friends.”
“You’re being even more dramatic than usual…are you tossed already?”
”I dunno, mum; am I?”
There was a quiet rumble around him, like thunder. At first he thought it was just his stomach informing him of how much he’d indeed had to drink, but then a fat drop of rain landed on his nose.
Leander’s big, dark eyes rolled to the ceiling, and he dragged Garreth onto his slightly unsteady feet with an arm in his. “Alright, you’re being bloody insufferable, and you’ve quite literally got a dark cloud hanging over you. Come on, up you get — go talk to her and apologize.”
The taller boy weaved through the crowd easily, pulling a stumbling Garreth along beside him until they came face-to-face with the very group of girls he had been avoiding all night. They all went quiet immediately — which was not a good sign.
Garreth scratched the back of his head, glancing between Leander and the witch with the suspicious scowl in front of him, feeling for all the world like he’d never been less of a Gryffindor than in that moment. Surely the alcohol was supposed to help with these things, right?
”Er…would you like to dance?” He blurted.
Well, that wasn’t what he’d meant to say at all. But having to talk to her at all in his clumsy state seemed even more daunting with all eyes on him, and getting her alone was a simple solution.
“You sure you’ll be able to without tripping over your feet?” Nellie snorted.
“‘M perfectly cohabitated — uh, coordinated, I mean,” Garreth argued.
Natty shook her head, hiding her laughter behind a hand. “Oh, dear.”
His favorite witch turned a familiar shade of pink, and for a moment Garreth feared that she’d laugh in his face, but eventually she sighed and handed her bottle of Butterbeer to Natty.
“If you step on my toes, I’ll jinx you,” she warned, leading him to the center of the room where groups of friends and cozy couples were scattered to dance to the magically amplified music (it was a miracle none of the professors had come to complain about it, really).
“No promises.”
Garreth wrestled with what to do when they got there. Was he supposed to take her hand? Her waist? Or, rather, should he keep it friendly and avoid touching her at all? The latter option seemed much less risky, and yet he found himself longing to feel her hand in his and the heat of her body. He’d been hooked ever since that day in Potions.
Deciding it would be better to keep his distance for now, Garreth went with swaying awkwardly on the spot instead, but she had other ideas — her hand sought out his, and she threw him into a dizzying little turn that evoked both laughter and a slight wave of nausea.
“Oh, are you leading?” He chuckled, suddenly thankful for the ballroom lessons they’d all received the year prior as he mimicked her move, twirling her playfully with ease that surprised even him.
“That might be safer,” she said. “Although you’re not doing half bad so far.”
“Always the tone of surprise,” Garreth grinned proudly.
He spent the better part of five minutes praying he wouldn’t step on her toes while simultaneously working up the courage to acknowledge the erupment in the room. And, because the universe didn’t like to make anything easy for him, Garreth had to compete with the little flutters in his stomach that beat their furious wings each time she laughed or squeezed his hand.
Merlin, just pull your wand out of your ass.
“Hey, so, about earlier. You know, during the game… you’re right, I wasn’t…I don’t know where my head’s been lately. I didn’t mean to muck things up.”
His breath held until she shrugged, her easy smile fading into something edged with concern. “Don’t worry about it. We won, and my head’s still attached to my body, so no hard feelings.”
She drew back, the impish grin back as she spun him again — which wasn’t very easy considering he had to duck under her arm. The room seemed to be moving with him, and Garreth had to right himself as subtly as possible when he came to a stop as colors that didn’t belong to the lights danced in his vision.
“You alright?” She chuckled, her hands braced on his biceps to steady him. “I think Nellie might have had a point about you tripping.”
“No, no, I’m good, just waiting for the room to stop spinning so I can look at you again.”
That hadn’t quite come out right. In place of the eye roll he was expecting, she giggled, adding fuel to his liquid confidence.
“Gods, you’re cute when you laugh,” Garreth found himself saying. He realized she was leading him away from the crowd, and soon he sank into a squashy cushion beside her. “I mean, you’re a bit blurry right now, but…still cute.”
“Okay, what’s gotten into you lately? Not that I mind the flirting… but you’ve been a right mess for weeks. I don’t think I’ve seen you this drunk before; not even when you saw your OWL results.”
A low groan rumbled in the back of his throat. “I’m peachy, pinkie promise.” Did she just say she didn’t mind his flirting?
Giggling at how absurd the words sounded together, he stuck his pinkie out to her and waited. “Come on, these are sacred!”
She did actually roll her eyes this time, but then her smallest finger hooked around his, and it didn’t pull away even when they were certainly exceeding the normal amount of time for a handshake. Garreth could smell the sweetness of Butterbeer on her breath.
It wasn’t enough to convince her, though. “Are you stressed about NEWTs? Who am I kidding, everyone and their grandmothers are. But if it’s really getting to you, then —“
Apparently, she wasn’t giving up, so Garreth sighed and rested his head against the back of the couch.
“Yes, I’m a bit strung out over the exams that will decide our entire career, what d’you think? I’m not going to have a fit over it.”
“Sorry,” her hands raised in surrender. “Just trying to figure out why you haven’t quite been yourself since the term started because I bloody care.”
“I would argue that blowing things up and making stupid decisions is very much on brand for me.”
Releasing a heavy sigh (more like an impatient huff, really), she wrested her pinkie from his, leaving Garreth more than a bit disappointed. But then again, what had he expected? That she’d sit there and hold his hand?
He hadn’t earned that. Somehow, he had earned her friendship from the very first day of their fifth year, but in no way did he reserve the right to even hope of something more. She was, well… extraordinary, and Garreth was an extraordinary disaster.
Maybe it was time he rectified that.
“Wait,” he tugged pathetically on her sleeve when she rose from the couch. “Sit with me for a little bit longer? I might need someone to Accio a rubbish bin over here soon.”
To his great relief, she sat down again, shaking her head to disguise a little chuckle. “You’re something else, y’know?”
Bonfire Nights had been sparse the past couple of years around Hogwarts, as many of the residents had feared drawing attention to themselves with the looming threat of Ashwinders and goblins and the like. This year, Garreth had had the pleasure of seeing pyres built weeks beforehand, and by the end of October Zonko’s had sold out of Filibuster’s Fireworks.
As night settled over the Highlands, bonfires began to flare to life all along the rolling hills, appearing like flaming stars from the view at the castle. Garreth, alongside a group of fellow seventh years carrying sparklers and mini-fireworks, spent the brisk walk to the hill above Hogsmeade village lost in uncharacteristic melancholy. He’d never been the sort to reminisce; preferring to live in the here and now whenever possible, but for some reason the knowledge that this would be his last Bonfire Night at Hogwarts made it all a bit bittersweet (the flavor of the month, it seemed).
They drank hot chocolate in ceramic mugs provided by Sirona, surrounded by the body heat of the villages’ residents as they talked and laughed and chased their children away from the forest at the edge of the plateau. Hogsmeade’s lights had been dimmed for the occasion, glowing softly below them to allow the six foot pyre they gathered around to shine.
“I can’t believe next month is Christmas already,” Leander was saying between greedy sips of the drink cupped in his blue-tinged hands. “Then it’ll be the New Year, then Spring Break, and before we know it we’ll be taking our NEWTs and graduating…”
“Breathe, Lee,” Garreth chuckled. At least he wasn’t the only one getting hit with the terrifying reality of time all at once.
”I know, is it not amazing? The last few years have gone by so quickly. I will miss this place come summer, though,” Natty sighed wistfully.
Nellie snorted. “Speak for yourself. If I never have to open a textbook again after school is over, it’ll be too soon.”
“Where’s your sense of adventure, Leander?” His favorite Gryffindor (don’t tell Nats or Leander) joined their little circle, her frame wrapped in a thick red scarf and one of his old Christmas sweaters she’d stolen from him in fifth year and never given back — not that he minded, as it didn’t fit him anymore and looked far better on her, anyway.
The lanky redhead grumbled a reply, “Easy for you to say. Half of my job will be desk work.”
“No shame in that,” she shrugged. “Garreth’s going to be behind a cauldron, after all.”
“Hey, Potioneers do other things besides just… brew. I’ll still forage for my own ingredients, travel to sell them… hell, one day, I might just have my own shop.” Garreth said with pride.
“So long as you don’t blow it up,” her cheeks dimpled when she smiled.
As if on cue, a loud boom shook the ground beneath them. Everyone’s eyes shot to the sky, cheers swelling amongst the crowd as the first firework exploded in a shower of golden sparks, dissolving back towards the earth like falling stars. Despite all their talk of the future, Garreth felt like a first-year again as a smile broke out on his slightly chapped lips, apparently not immune to the childlike wonder the fireworks always seemed to bring.
The next one was even louder and brighter. Garreth nearly jumped out of his skin when an iron grip closed around his arm and a body pressed into his left side. She had buried her face in his shoulder, too, and a warm feeling unrelated to the cocoa spread from his stomach.
“Aww, is the big, bad Gryffindor afraid of fireworks?” he teased, trying not to enjoy the smell of her shampoo or the color in her cheeks too much as she looked up at him sheepishly.
“Shut up!” The shivering witch hissed. “Am not. I’m just…cold, and you’re a damn furnace, as usual.”
“Oh, you’re cold,” Garreth pouted just for the drama of it. Then, before he could convince himself it was a bad idea, he wrapped his arm around her shoulders to pull her closer still. “I suppose I’ll have to keep you warm, then.”
”And they say chivalry is dead.”
She flinched after the third blast, leading him to rub her shoulder in a subtle attempt at comfort, his heart thumping almost as loud as the fireworks now going off in quick succession when she curled into him. It was then that his Neanderthal brain concluded why she might have been so terrified; after fighting in a bloody war just two years ago.
“Sorry,” she mumbled.
“Don’t be. I don’t mind.” At all. Garreth laughed to himself and set down his mug in the grass so he could cover the ear she didn’t have pressed to his chest with his hand.
“You know, you’re really sweet when you want to be,” he thought he heard her say over the explosions echoing throughout the valleys.
He lowered his head to speak into the ear closest to him, lips brushing the flyaways from her hair, rubbing her arm again when he noticed her shiver. “Don’t tell anyone. I have a reputation to uphold; can’t have everyone think I’ve gone soft.”
Truth be told, his limbs always felt like melted taffy around her — he was practically a puddle at her feet.
They were quiet for a few minutes. Eventually, her head lifted partially from his shoulder, and with a sidelong glance he caught her peering up at the sky with a look best described as wonder. Each burst of sparks was reflected in her wide eyes, and Garreth felt tiny pricks of electricity along every nerve in his body at the sight.
“So, um…” he scrambled for something to say so he wouldn’t think about how close her lips would be if she turned to the side a bit. “Are you still going to write to me after school’s over? Or will you forget all about us little people when you’re off traveling the world in search of ancient relics and having daring adventures?”
“Of course I’m going to write, you moonmind,” she looked up at him, then, and his hand fell from the side of her head. “And I’ll come visit, too, so I can see that shop of yours.”
Perhaps she was just humoring him, but Garreth found nothing but sincerity in her soft smile, and his own crooked grin widened at the thought that she might be one of the first to genuinely believe in him.
“What’s got you so pensive all of a sudden?”
He shrugged, absentmindedly playing with the frayed edges of her cashmere scarf. “Maybe it’s just the old age catching up to me. It pairs well with my bum hip, I think.”
”Come on, I’m serious. I won’t tell anyone and ruin your sterling reputation, I swear.”
“I don’t know,” Garreth let out a sigh, his breath clouding in the air between them. “Just realized how much I’m gonna miss you.”
“And here I thought you’d be sick of my face after seeing it every day for three years,” her eyes darted away from him to watch a spray of green and red fill the starry sky. She wasn’t shaking anymore.
Never, he almost said. Garreth knew, as he gazed hopelessly at her perfect profile, that he would never be tired of her face — well, of all of her, really. In fact, he wouldn’t mind seeing her every day for the rest of his life.
“If you’re going to miss me so desperately… Perhaps you could join me on one of my so-called ‘daring adventures’ sometime; on the off chance Pippin gives you a holiday.”
His brows shot up as she met his stare. “Really? You’d want me to tag along?”
Their classmates and the villagers burst into raucous whistles and hollering as the finale began, fireworks filling the air with the smell of gunpowder and a rainbow of light that flashed on everyone’s uplifted faces. Garreth held her tightly lest she start to panic again, but the witch in his arms just laughed jubilantly at the crowd’s infectious excitement, nodding in response to his question.
“Sure. Never know when you might need a talented Potioneer to back you up. Fair warning that we’re bound to run into some trouble now and again, naturally.”
The thump of his heart became something wild and frantic, beating away beneath the hand she’d placed on his chest until he feared it, too, would simply explode. Gods, if they weren’t careful, he would wind up doing something massively stupid… or massively genius, depending on the results.
“As long as you’re there, I say bring it on,” Garreth beamed.
He could hardly believe his luck. She’d asked him to accompany her on her travels! That had to mean something, right?
Only one way to find out for sure…
“And would it be…er, just the two of us, or would Sebastian and Ominis and the rest of the crew be joining as well?”
Her eyes sparkled with recognition. “That depends on how you would feel about us traveling alone.”
”Would it be rather selfish of me to say that I’d love to have you to myself for a bit?”
“Probably…” her breath warmed his cheeks, though they were already burning hotter than a cauldron flame as Garreth became hypnotized by the way her teeth worried at her reddened lower lip. “But then I’d have to admit that I’m selfish, too.”
Now, that was a sign.
The last round of fireworks were utterly deafening, so Garreth had to lean in once again until the cold tips of their noses brushed to say, “Could I be even more of a self-serving bastard and ask you for one more thing?”
”Yes, you can — and yes to anything you want,” her lashes fluttered as her gaze dropped down to his slightly parted mouth.
“Anything?”
Garreth wasn’t one to ignore an opportunity when it arose. He took it and ran, gently placing his hand beneath her chin at the same moment his eyes slid shut and their lips brushed together with such a delicate touch that he shuddered. Then she took the lead, deepening the kiss with a wispy little sigh that had him weak at the knees and left him unable to form any solid thought but for how fucking incredible she tasted with the remnants of rich chocolate on her tongue.
When the two of them disconnected, the last sparks were fading from the sky, but they lived on in Garreth’s veins, popping and crackling like Fizzing Whizbees.
“See?” He murmured while still trying to catch his breath. “Didn’t disappoint you, did I?”
Her laughter bubbled up between them, brighter than any display. “You never disappoint, Garreth Weasley.”
Garreth had wondered before if he’d been made wrong; like one of his failed experiments with just a splash too much of the wrong thing. But perhaps — especially with someone like her to help keep him stable — some of the best things could come from the unpredictable and the unexpected.
He didn’t exactly find the missing ingredient…it had been there all along.
Halloween shenanigans with minor Garreth/F!Reader
[T-Rated, 3k words]
“What the hell are you wearing?”
“What?” said Garreth. “It’s a pumpkin costume.”
“You’re taking a girl, you knobhead! You’re meant to dress sexy! Like me!”
Tight trousers, a long, leather coat, and the criss-cross of belts over his bare chest…
“You’re barely dressed!”
“Exactly!"
A/N: This was written for @garrethweasleyfest! My prompts were Garreth POV on a major holiday, Garreth gives MC a new potion with some unintended side effects, and Modern AU coffee shop, and because I like chaos I decided to (loosely) mush all three, resulting in the most crack thing I’ve ever written.
Very grateful to contribute to the Garreth fandom in whatever small way I can. Special thanks to cuff and Elli for organising the fest. Make sure to support all the other amazing Garreth content using the hashtags #GarrethWeasleyFest and #GarrethWeasleyFest2024! And, as always, please enjoy <3
[read on AO3]
Officer Ruth Singer sinks into the chair opposite with a sigh.
“All right, Mr Weasley, let’s cut to the chase. Where’s the Ferrari you stole?”
To be quite frank, Garreth’s not entirely sure how he got here. He’s not sure why he’s wearing half a pumpkin costume and cinching-on-his-private-area orange tights. Hell, he barely knows what a Ferrari is (just that it’s expensive. And bad to steal).
He does know, however, that he did not do it.
“I know it looks bad, ma’am,” he says, trying to raise his hands – they’re handcuffed to the desk with less wiggle room than a finger up an arse. “But I’m innocent. You’ve nabbed the wrong man.”
Officer Singer has a round, childlike face, but in all her riot gear she looks barely contained in the tiny interrogation room. One swoop of her glower almost makes his orange tights brown.
“Look, kid, you were clearly out for Halloween. Want to look cool for your mates and fancied yourself a new ride, doing doughnuts or whatever.”
“I don’t need to steal anything to have a doughnut! Please, Officer Singer. I know I’m innocent. In fact, I was framed.” The detail comes back to him sharply. “And I can tell you what happened.”
Sort of. He’ll remember the specifics along the way. Hopefully.
Singer gestures vaguely. “Go on, then. Let's hear it.”
Garreth sits up.
“It all started three weeks ago…”
“Froth the milk, Weasley.”
Froth the milk. Right. Garreth turned to the countertop he’d wiped clean of droplets two seconds ago. The monstrosity taking up most of its surface was supposedly called a masheen, a big metal box with loads of buttons and a pipe stuck out the middle. He’d been working at Aesip’s Coffee House for a while now, but this contraption was so complicated he hadn’t got the hang of it yet.
“Yes, Mr Sharp.” He grabbed a carton of milk from the cool box and poured it into a jug, which he stuck under the masheen and whispered, “Heatus Upus… Ventus Milkus… Incendio? Work with me, please.”
“You have to steam the milk.”
He turned sharply. You were about his age and wickedly pretty, wearing form-fitting clothes under a long, black coat, and leather gloves accentuating the slender bones of your fingers. You nodded to the jug, brow sloped in quiet exasperation.
“Put the steam wand in.”
“Wand?” he said. Then he remembered the long pipe. “Oh, right, that thing.”
“Now pull the leaver. That activates the steam.”
You were right; the milk frothed nicely. Even Sharp seemed mildly impressed Garreth managed not to explode anything, when he took the jug with a raised brow.
“I will brew you the best drink as thanks,” Garreth said to you, when Sharp was gone.
“Just a black coffee is fine.”
“Takeaway?” You nodded. “And does my illustrious saviour have a name? To write on the cup, of course.” He winked.
You pursed your lips. “Prim will do.”
Prim. Oh, he liked that.
It became a routine. Every day you came in and ordered the same thing. He’d chat and flirt, you’d giggle and smile. Sometimes your visits coincided with that of Sebastian Sallow’s, Garreth’s annoyingly handsome, annoyingly charming, and annoyingly annoying acquaintance who through full fault of his own made Garreth look bad – but you hid when he was close, gaze flickering to Garreth under low-lidded eyes. Obviously his humour, good looks and handsome fit in Aesip’s green apron was enough to win you over.
“Hello, Garreth!” piped a voice from behind the counter. “Can I order a cappuccino?”
October cold had webbed the coffee house windows with frost. Garreth rolled his shoulders. The girl was vaguely recognisable, with glasses and pigtails. What was her name? Something stupid, like Gabble.
“‘Course! Anything el—?”
“Made ristretto with half soy and half oat milk and three pumps of caramel and half hazelnut, extra chocolate drizzle, crumb topping and whipped cream in a large cup and no water. Oh, and a slice of strawberry cake. Thanks!”
Garreth frantically scribbled it down as Gabble-Maybe skipped off to find a table. Merlin’s nipsicles, how the hell does anyone talk that fast? He went to grab the milk. Did she want almond? Or chocolate?
“Do you need help?”
Your voice made him jump. You were good at that, appearing silently. “Yes, please?”
You recited everything again, slower, and he wrote it down. “You have a great memory, Prim.”
You shrugged. “Practice.”
“Don’t be modest, you’re saving my arse. Thank you.” He scoured the cool box for soy milk. “Although, just saying, if I had my wand I wouldn’t need to do it by hand.”
“What?”
He blinked, not really sure why he said that. “Sorry. Usual?”
“Yes, please,” you said with a cute smile. “Although I was thinking… maybe adding a syrup?”
“Whoa, flying the broom away, aren’t we?” He winked. “What flavour?”
“Surprise me.”
As he concocted the drink, chatting merrily away and discreetly adding a gloop of pumpkin spice, the doorbell tingled. Sebastian strode inside in a loose shirt and pressed trousers, and a peacoat made of some expensive wool. Oh joy.
Garreth slid the drink to you, and your cute smile widened. “Thank you, and, erm… I… I wondered…” You glanced at Sebastian intensely power-walking towards him, and quickly mumbled, “Never mind,” before rushing to the nearest table to avoid getting trampled.
A second later, Sebastian slapped down some gold rectangle and proclaimed, “Coffee as black as my soul, Weasley. Make it fast. I have better things to do.”
Most days Garreth had no idea if he was joking. His sense of humour was so warped Garreth couldn’t tell anymore.
“Latte with cream then?”
“I’m in a good mood so I’m going to ignore that.” Sebastian plucked a key ring from a pocket and twirled it around. “The stock deal went through. Decided to treat myself. Don’t be jealous.”
“What the hell is that? A lighter?”
“It’s a fob,” he declared, “for my Ferrari.”
Holy shit! Garreth thought. What the hell is a Ferrari!
“If you’re nice I might let you look at it. From a safe distance. Behind a window.” Sebastian stuffed the fob into his coat pocket. “Oh, yeah, and Leander’s party tonight, turns out Missy is going, so I guess I’ll deign to go as well.” He fixed him a sharp look. “You are going, right?”
“Yes, obviously.”
“Good. You can hold my drinks. And a date?”
“It’s Halloween, thirty-first, mate.”
“No, you turd, are you bringing anyone?”
“Oh.” No, and he wasn’t likely to either. Everyone he knew was already going: Natty, Cress, Amit and Everett, Adelaide, Ominis and Imelda. He poured a black coffee and slid it over. “It’s not necessary, right?”
Sebastian took it with a roll of his eyes. “God, Weasley, why do I hang out with you?”
“Bothering me at work isn’t hanging out.”
“Do you think I want to go to Leander’s place? I’m only going because Missy is. Just find a date so you don’t look like the only loser.”
“You don’t have a date either!” Garreth yelled, but Sebastian was already halfway out the door. Merlin’s chapped lips. The bloke would be decent, really, if not for the ego bigger than a planet.
“I’m sorry to bother you, Garreth…”
He jumped. You had magically reappeared again, avoiding eye contact but batting those lovely, luscious eyelashes.
“Could I trouble you for a napkin?”
“Yes! Of course!” He grabbed a wodge. “Here you go.”
“Thank you, and the coffee is really delicious.” You looked down at your gloves. “I really appreciate you making it for me.”
“You’re welcome.” His heart did a little triple-twist somersault. “Happy to help broaden your taste buds.”
You gave him another small, cute smile, which made his cheeks warm, before retreating again to leave—
Just find a date. Sebastian’s words decked him in the face. Holy moly. He was staring at the solution.
Like a drunk shotput, he flung himself out from behind the counter, narrowly missing Mrs Hecat taking her mint tea, and hurried after you.
“Wait, Prim—” he squeaked before you stepped out, then coughed out in his very deep, manly voice, “Er, ahem, wait, Prim.”
Your face brightened. “Is something wrong?”
“D’you want to go to a Halloween party tonight?” It popped out like a stealth fart. Merlin’s uvula! “I mean. Would you— maybe, if you want— but no pressure—”
“Yes!” you blurted. “Yes, that would be lovely.”
Quickly you scribbled a string of numbers onto some paper and tucked it into his pocket. What the hell is that? some inner voice piped, but then he realised you were so close he could smell the pumpkin spice on your breath, so you could’ve given him a used tissue for all he cared.
“Send me the details?” you whispered sensually.
“Yeah, already sending. I mean, I will. Send. The details.”
You gave him a cute wave on the way out, and once you were out of view, Garreth did a little dance.
“Don’t quit your day job,” muttered Hecat, rolling her eyes.
With Sebastian’s help, and some sort of portable communication device called a foan, Garreth found himself waiting outside the café five hours later when a sleek, green mechanical carriage roared around the corner and stopped abruptly at the pavement’s side. Sebastian rolled the window down – and his jaw snapped upwards with an almighty clack.
“What the hell are you wearing?”
“What?” said Garreth. “It’s a pumpkin costume.”
“You’re taking a girl, you knobhead! You’re meant to dress sexy! Like me!”
Tight trousers, a long, leather coat, and the criss-cross of belts over his bare chest…
“You’re barely dressed!”
“Exactly! Jesus, just get in.”
Garreth reluctantly slid into the passenger’s side. The carriage was so strange, with an angled front-facing window overlooking the road, plush, leather seats and a wheel that steered itself – allowing Sebastian the chance to snatch Garreth’s pumpkin hat and chuck it out the side. They were going so fast it practically vanished.
“Who’s this girl you’ve invited anyway? Is she fit?”
“I can’t comment on a woman’s weight,” he said, raising an eyebrow. “But she’s a customer. Cute.”
Sebastian hummed. “I’m impressed. Didn’t know you had game, Weasley.”
“I get my meat from the butchers, but thanks?”
Leander’s house was a giant three-storey mansion in the countryside, fed light down the driveway by a string of torches and a collection of dancing skeletons. Sebastian tossed the mechanical carriage into an awkward spot in the middle of the front courtyard.
In the darkness, the shape of you was palpable. With a shiny black one-piece that moulded perfectly to your curves and chest, and a pair of cute ears and eyeliner-drawn whiskers, Garreth’s brain became instant mush. You were… dressed like a cat. An attractive cat.
“I like your costume,” you said to him, once you met on the front steps. “Do I look okay?”
“Errrrr,” he stammered out. “Girl… yes… girl hot— I mean, girl thot— I mean— shit—”
Sebastian rolled his eyes. “Christ, Weasley. Let’s go in.”
The party was already booming. Rock music was blasting from open parlour, and mood lighting was creating a coalescent effect of red, blue and green marbling on the walls. Bodies were squished together and dancing. The host himself was front and centre, in only a sailor’s hat and a pair of skimpy shorts, getting drunk with Natty and Cress as a succubus and a nun who’d clearly lost the way.
Dragon dung, I really did miss the memo on costumes! Ugh, and his tights were so uncomfortable, too!
Sebastian peeled off his coat and chucked it at Garreth. “Go deposit that somewhere safe. If I find any cash missing, I’ll know which skint bastard to blame.”
He immediately dove into the bodies, probably looking for Missy, leaving you and Garreth with the coat like a plonker. You took Garreth’s hand suddenly – his haunches rose.
“Shall we go put that… somewhere private?”
Merlin’s coccyx. Garreth was about to die. Of glee.
“Leander has a coat room. This way.”
The place was fairly small despite the size of the house, and it was already jammed with a variety of fleeces, bags, capes, elaborate headgear and abandoned props. He tried to find a hook near the back but nearly tripped – you snatched his arm and pulled him close to steady him, and your breath, minty and fresh and enticing, whirled into his nose.
“Be careful,” you whispered in that sensual voice. “Let me do it.”
You took the coat and stretched around him, causing blood to rush up his neck. Pretty girl. Pretty costume. His brain managed only caveman utterances as a strong impulse to crush his lips to yours overwhelmed him. When you reached back, however, your hands wandered, going from the coat to his hair, dragging your fingers through like a comb. His mouth went dry tracing the silhouette of your body, and the look of hunger in your eyes.
“Prim—” he choked out.
You placed a finger to his lip. “Outside?”
He took your hand and marched you out front again. Good grief, it was happening. He didn’t make it one step down the courtyard before you pulled him down, meeting his lips with your own. The kiss was so unexpected and warm and amazing all the hesitation in his chest dissolved. His hands met your waist, his chest your own. You tasted like an addiction, poisonous and unyielding. He wanted more, so much more.
The kissing intensified. It was so chilly, yet he was burning up within, throwing himself willingly into the flames of you. Oblivious of the surroundings, he let himself be guided to wherever the hell you wanted. Your tongue skimmed the seam of his mouth and it took all his willpower not to moan. Was this Muggle Heaven? He fell back on something soft, flat out against – a leather seat?
You peeled yourself off as you threw the rest of him into the passenger’s seat of Sebastian’s Ferrari. Garreth yelped.
“Er, Prim—?”
In two seconds you were in the driver’s seat, and revving the engine. The Ferrari purred to life, and when you hit the accelerator, Garreth’s face mashed against the back of the seat.
“Prim! What the hell are you—?”
The carriage swerved left, pitching him sideways until he grabbed the headrest to steady himself. He screamed. Only when you were in some country road did you lurch to a stop. Garreth caught his breath.
“We could’ve just snogged in the courtyard, you know!”
You turned, casting him a sweet, ominous smile, and swung a key ring around your clawed finger. He stared at it, recognising the shape…
“Wait a second… that’s Sebastian’s knob!”
“Fob, Garreth,” you corrected. “And it’s mine now.”
“What? But—”
“I have to thank you, actually. He’s been a target for weeks but getting close to him was impossible… until I met you.” You pressed something on the dashboard and passenger door opened, letting in a rush of frigid air. “I can’t believe you’d break his trust.”
“But— I didn’t do anything!”
With one swift movement, you kicked Garreth square in the chest. He took the blow unprepared, tumbling into the cold and landing on the compacted mud with a thump.
“Sebastian will notice soon,” you said casually. “They’ll find your hair all over his coat. Don’t worry, I’ve confiscated your phone so you can’t contact anyone. Should give me a few hours leeway, but I’m sure he’ll notice you’re gone first. You’re not a bad kisser though.” You winked. “See you next time, gorgeous.”
The door sealed shut, and the metal carriage sped off, churning dust and smoke in Garreth’s face.
“And that’s how I was framed.”
Officer Singer stares at him like he’s become the pumpkin.
“You’re saying this girl Prim used you to steal the Ferrari from Mr Sallow?”
“Exactly right!”
“When she doesn’t exist?”
“What?”
“The number you texted isn’t in service. No record of her at any local business or university. You don’t even have a name?”
Garreth feels sweat drip from head to arse. “N-No, but I swear she’s real!”
“Yeah, okay, and I’m going home to feed my unicorn.”
“Unicorns are real too! And Sebastian saw her!”
“Mr Sallow did indeed see someone that night, but it was dark. She could’ve been any of the other party guests.”
“But she wasn’t—”
“I’m afraid the evidence is stacked against you.” Singer stands. “You’re under arrest for Ferrari-theft—”
“No, please!”
“— where you’ll face trial—”
“No!”
“— and then… Azkaban.”
“NOOOOO—”
“—OOOOOOOO!”
Pain shoots down his head and shoulders. Garreth gulps in a sharp breath and pries open his eyes – everything’s blurry, but he can just make out his legs stuck in the air and the rest of his body awkwardly folded between the foot of his bed and the floor. Except for undergarments, he’s arse-naked. Everything’s spinning, his hair’s dishevelled, and his innards feel like they might quickly become outards.
“Garreth! Are you all right?”
A vague shape above him crystallises into you, staring down at him with a hand over your mouth. You’re barely dressed, just a thin nightgown.
“Prim… what…?”
“I told you that potion was a bad idea,” you scold, helping him onto the bed’s edge. “Enhancing your dreams… try nightmares! I tried shaking you and nothing worked! You just sat there and drooled for thirty minutes!”
“Wait— so…” Everything was a dream? That tavern with the weird masheen and Sebastian’s metal carriage and you being a cat burglar but not the cute kind—
“Prim,” he pulls you into a hug, “Merlin’s nappy rash, I love you. I love you just the way you are.”
“Er…” You pat him on the back. “I love you too?”
“And I will be the best boyfriend ever as long as you never to get me arrested for a Ferrari!”
You fix him a sweet, if exasperated smile.
“You know I would never try to get you arrested, Garreth. Whatever you saw in your nightmare wasn’t real.”
And thank goodness for that. He sags and rests his forehead against yours.
“I’m never drinking that potion again.”
“That sounds like a very wise idea,” you say. “I do have to ask though… what’s a Ferrari?”
Garreth kisses your nose.
“I have absolutely no idea.”
Fin.
My eternal gratitude to CharlesSTBeaufort for fielding all my annoying car questions. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed! <3
Summary: The news of a Yule Ball sends ripples of excitement throughout Hogwarts' seventh years, though Garreth Weasley is less than enthused. Mandatory dance lessons are also an unwelcome distraction from his experimental brews and upcoming exams.
Though perhaps having his best friend as a partner might make the ordeal less excruciating...
A friends to lovers story, told in part by Garreth's diary entries.
If you prefer to read the diary entries in plain text, head on over to ao3!
A/n: For @garrethweasleyfest 2024! Prompt chosen: Yule ball practice lessons. Credit to @ellivenollivander for the title <3
This is essentially a Salvation AU, in which the Yule Ball is a catalyst for Garreth and Adanna to admit their feelings for each other. You don't have to have read Salvation! But Adanna is my OC from that fic, and there's also a cameo from another prominent character...
Garreth had turned the dormitory upside down, inside out and back to front, and was no closer to finding his precious journal. He'd checked his trunk a dozen times, though he would never have stored it there amongst the various semi-combustible substances. He'd contemplated that perhaps he'd been sleepwalking and misplaced it—it had been known to happen—and so searched his roommates’ belongings, too. Between the piles of trinkets, sweets and magazines of dubious content, he was still left empty handed and growing increasingly anxious at the prospect of the little leatherbound book making its way into the wrong hands. His innermost thoughts laid bare; secret recipes ripe for the taking. He chastised himself for not placing a tampering charm on it and fled the dormitory.
Bounding down the stairs, his next port of call would be the common room, and then he would scour the rest of the castle if necessary. But he didn't have to look much further, for Garreth spotted it as soon as he jumped off the final stair, clutched in the arms of the enemy. It could have been any old book, if not for the myriad potion stains and the G.W. stamped large across the front. The gold initials winked at him from across the room, beckoning him closer, crying a silent plea of ‘save me!’.
How had Cressida managed to slip it from his grasp—a book he carried everywhere—without him noticing? She didn't hide the subterfuge, leaning against the side of a sofa and reading the contents with a faint scowl on her face like one might peruse a textbook. Garreth slipped through the crush of students returning from dinner, long strides bringing him to her side before he'd formed a coherent idea of what he wanted to say. What came out of his mouth was a garbled mess of words and possibly a few expletives as he snatched the journal from her hands. Cressida made no attempt to stop him, only looked up at him with bored disinterest; a far cry from the kind of looks she'd been giving him the past few weeks. He supposed she had read the diary entries that contained his unfiltered thoughts on her, but Garreth felt absolutely no sympathy given the blatant invasion of his privacy.
“What in Merlin's bloody breeches do you think you're doing with my journal?” he finally managed to ask.
Garreth had tried to mutter it under his breath, but still he drew attention from various students around him, a few quiet titters echoing behind his back. He felt his cheeks burning as Cressida crossed her arms, still scowling, now adding a pout to the mix. She seemed to be under the impression that it was her who had been wronged.
“You could have just told me no, Garreth. Instead I had to find my answers in your journal!”
“That's why you took it? Because I've not asked you to the ball?” Garreth replied incredulously.
“That, and I saw my name. I think I have a right to know what you're saying about me.”
“You have no right to my private thoughts. And besides, this is the pot calling the kettle black, isn't it rather?”
“What do you mean?”
Of course, she had no idea that he'd read her diary in fifth year—but who hadn’t? The pages had flown around the library for quite some time before they were returned to her, and by then their contents had made the rounds of the Hogwarts rumour mill.
“You made some particularly unfair observations about me in your own diary, if I recall.”
Cressida was now standing in front of him, a head shorter, and the pair were drawing quite the crowd. Eyes remained averted but the room was far too quiet given how many people filled it, the silent lurkers doing an unsubtle job of listening to the argument.
“You…how did you…?”
“Well they were flying around the library for anyone to read, Cressida.”
She blanched, fists clenched at her sides. She reminded Garreth of a teapot who's water was approaching boiling point, ready to start clattering and whistling with steam coming from her ears.
“How dare you!”
“I suppose we're even then? We both know exactly what the other thinks of each other.”
“Yes, now I understand exactly why you don't want to take me to the Yule Ball. I knew you had a thing for Adanna.”
“What? That's not—”
“Please, Garreth.”
Cressida’s blush had crept all the way to her hairline by now, both as mortified as the other. Garreth was busy spluttering his denials whilst she stepped around him, ready to flee to the safety of her dormitory, but she turned to say one last damning thing before her disappearance.
“There's no point in denying it, Garreth. Especially to her.” She bit her lip, showing the first hint of regret for her actions. “She knows now.”
Garreth gaped at the back of her head for a long while, right until the hem of her robe disappeared up the staircase. What did she mean? He wanted to shout, but Cressida would be sequestered safely in the girls’ dormitory by now, any answers barricaded inside along with her. He stood in dumbfounded silence enduring the lingering gazes and laughter around him, a faint nausea descending upon him as realisation dawned that Adanna had read his words. There was nothing sordid or explicit in his journal, but one didn't have to read much between the lines to realise that Garreth had surrendered to his attraction. The consequences could be disastrous. He flew into a panic.
Gathering the offending book into his arms, he moved to flee the common room in search of Adanna, but was met by a gangly, immovable object with a wrinkled brow.
“Where are you going?” Leander asked. “Already missed dinner and now you're running off again?”
“What are you, my mother?” Garreth huffed, peering around Leander's shoulders towards the common room door.
“You and Adanna are both being very odd…”
“What do you mean?” Garreth asked, though he wasn't sure he wanted to know the answer.
“She was very quiet during dinner. Decided to sit with her own house and looked rather solemn.”
Garreth swallowed the lump forming in his throat, his heart now thumping wildly behind his ribcage. This was precisely the reaction he had feared, ever since contemplating more with Adanna all those years ago. He'd buried the notion for fear of ending a friendship too precious; only this damned ball had dragged every deep rooted desire to the surface. What his journal entries hadn't captured were how he longed for their dance lessons, for the opportunity to be alone with her; to hold her waist as if she were his, losing himself in her earthen eyes. But his scribblings had clearly been enough.
“I have to go,” Garreth muttered to a baffled Leander, rushing out of the room.
The journey down to the Hufflepuff common room was simultaneously the longest of Garreth's life and yet not nearly enough time to contemplate what he wanted to say. Should he deny the allegations? Tell Adanna that the journal had been tampered with by a vengeful Cressida? Despite all she'd done, Cressida didn't deserve a reputation built on a lie—which only left Garreth with the truth. It was such a terrifying prospect that it took him several minutes of staring at the great oak doors next to the kitchens before he mustered the courage to enter.
He'd been to the Hufflepuff's underground dwellings so many times over the years that he need not ask for help entering—he tapped the barrel (worn old from years of use) in the rhythm to the house founder's name, careful not to miss a syllable lest he wanted to face Adanna smelling of vinegar.
Most Hufflepuffs didn’t even bat an eye when Garreth came to visit—he liked to think he was a honourary member of their house, as Adanna slotted so seamlessly into his own. He greeted a few classmates, and Adelaide was kind enough to fetch Adanna from the girls’ dormitory for him, after he’d answered a few questions about Leander’s dress robes.
“I want to match, but black isn’t really my colour,” she sighed, before disappearing with a light skip in her step.
If only Garreth’s own Yule Ball anticipation was as carefree as Adelaide’s; worrying about his ghastly robes instead of alienating his best friend.
When Adanna appeared, Garreth held his breath, searching frantically for the words he wanted to say—but none appeared. He suddenly became aware of every muscle in his body, his posture, the arrangement of his features. Suddenly awkward in his own skin, he gripped his journal tighter as she approached, her gaze landing on the bundle in his arms. She looked neither happy nor sad to see him, only anticipatory. When she stood only an arm’s length away from him, waiting, he finally gasped for breath.
“Hello,” he said, rather pathetically.
“Hello.” Adanna chewed her lip, as she often did when nervous.
He was making her nervous, and subsequently felt like the world’s biggest arse. Looking for a secluded spot amongst the shrubbery, he tilted his head and guided her away from the groups of lingering students. He wasn’t sure he could bear another public spectacle.
“Did you…get a visit from Cressida by any chance?” he asked, brushing a stray fern frond from his face.
“I did,” she replied, averting her eyes. “She shouldn’t have taken your journal. I tried to stop her, but she was so insistent that I read—”
“I’m sorry.”
“Why are you sorry? They were your private thoughts.”
Garreth cast his own eyes downward, hating every second of this confrontation. “I never thought you would ever find out, Ada.”
“Did you mean them?”
Words were spilling out of him like vomit now, a build up of nervous energy cascading without end. “I’ve always found you beautiful, from the day we met. And it was hard to ignore those feelings, but I thought I’d finally got the hang of it until all of this Yule Ball madness. I kept thinking about that night in the clocktower. Not in a sordid way, mind you, it’s just that it felt so right with you in my arms. I can’t really explain the feeling—like a puzzle piece slotting into place, or finding the perfect ingredient for a tricky brew. I suppose I had an epiphany, about you—about us.” He couldn’t stop himself, this confession, or whatever it was. Adanna stood still with her lips slightly parted as if to interrupt, but she let him ramble on against his better judgement until he finally ran out of steam. “So yes, I meant them. Every word.”
She didn’t reply right away, but her eyes glistened so wondrously in the warm glow of the common room that Garreth was content to just watch her parsing his words, hoping beyond all hope that she somehow felt the same. He hadn’t come here to tell her any of this, only to apologise for her ever finding out in the first place, and to perhaps mitigate the worst of the damage. His plan hadn’t quite worked out that way. Standing in front of Adanna with his heart fit to burst, he couldn’t bring himself to brush off his affections, to downplay just how much he cared for her beyond the platonic. It was now or never, he supposed—speak now, or forever hold his peace.
“I—,” Adanna started, then paused, breathless, as if only now remembering that she could talk “—feel the same.”
“What?” Garreth asked dumbly, sure that he’d misheard.
“I think about it, too.”
Then she smiled, and the fear and doubt that roiled in his stomach seemed to arch like a cresting wave before dissipating completely, leaving only a warmth that tingled from the top of his head to the tips of his toes. His eyes prickled, his face cracking into a wide grin—nothing could have prepared him, and nothing would compare.
“So, will you go to the ball with me? Properly, this time.”
Tentatively, he reached out and took her hand, careful not to disturb this new and precious harmony. Small, delicate fingers, slipping perfectly into his own.
Adanna nodded. “Of course I will.”
“Hah! Who’s the idiot now, Leander?” Garreth chuckled to himself.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
~*~
How does one navigate the murky transition of friends to…well, something more? Garreth supposed there wasn’t exactly a handbook detailing procedures, but nor did the current state of affairs feel quite right. As if stuck in some awkward limbo, he and Adanna didn’t quite know what to do with themselves before the Yule Ball that evening. He’d not technically asked for anything more than for her to accompany him to said ball, and certainly not outright asked for her to be his girlfriend or anything of the sort—a glaring mistake in hindsight.
During the term’s final lessons they had cast each other furtive glances, exchanged sweet, knowing smiles that spoke of desire and longing that neither seemed able to act upon. They touched more often; a brush of knuckles here, a press of knees there. Their friends knew only that they would attend the ball together, everything else a suspicion. Only Garreth could manage to profess his feelings for a woman and leave out such an important question. He’d meant it implicitly, but when it came to matters of the heart, one couldn’t be too clear.
He would remedy the situation later that evening—once seeing to an important familial duty.
“Why can't we go to the ball?” Charlotte asked for what might have been the dozenth time that morning.
Her pout was pronounced as she dragged her satchel towards the crimson train idling in Hogsmeade station. Hector walked alongside Garreth with both Weasley siblings’ trunks, not nearly as put out as his sister but nevertheless envious at the prospect of glimpsing the Ministry's ‘special guest’. Garreth's younger brother and sister would be heading home a day early; only sixth and seventh years were permitted to attend the Yule Ball.
“I'm sure they'll hold another one when you're older, Charlotte,” Garreth replied, levitating the two trunks inside the idling carriage.
All around them were similarly despondent faces; young students who wished to experience the magic of the infamous celebration. Faculty members helped to board the youngest as friends rushed to find the best seats on the Hogwarts Express for the hours-long voyage back to London. Hector spotted a few of his fellow fifth year Gryffindors and was off, only a half-hearted backwards wave to say goodbye.
Charlotte lingered, fingers picking at the top of her trunk.
“You'd better board. Look, there's erm…Constance?” Garreth said, pointing towards a small, mousy first year along the platform.
“Catherine!” Charlotte corrected. “Will you tell me all about the ball when you come home for Christmas?”
“Of course I will—”
“Is Adanna coming with you?”
Garreth frowned at yet another thing he'd neglected to ask her. “Maybe. Her dad is coming back to the country though.”
Charlotte sighed again, looking wistfully back at the castle. “I bet she'll look beautiful.”
Yes, I suppose she will, Garreth thought, suppressing a grin.
“Come on, get on the train,” he urged her as the train whistled and the clock ticked by, urgently approaching nine o'clock.
Charlotte finally relented, clambering onto the train with her trunk which had been enchanted with a featherlight charm. Her scrawny little arms were surprisingly strong, but she had insisted on packing her entire belongings for the two weeks holiday.
“See you tomorrow!” Garreth called after her as the final whistle blew, doors snapping shut, locks clicking into place.
And then Garreth was left with the lingering siblings and faculty, staring off into the highlands as the train became a distant speck. Duty taken care of, he returned to the castle to await the ball.
Festivities would start at eight o’clock, giving everyone enough time to eat before dressing for the occasion. The Great Hall would be sealed off after lunch and platters of food brought to the common rooms for the remaining students whilst they prepared; donning robes, styling hair and whatever else needed to be done.
Garreth felt woefully unprepared. He strided at a brisk pace back to Gryffindor tower, catching tantalising glimpses of decorations being moved through the castle. Christmas trees and holly garlands had lined the halls for weeks now, but whatever Headmaster Black had planned (or demanded of his aunt), involved gilded cages of various birds; mottled wings and soft grey feathers ruffled against the tiny red-breasted varieties that Garreth recognised.
He was curious, to be sure, but now that term had ended and distractions were few and far between, Garreth found himself uncharacteristically nervous. It would be a momentous occasion—not for the finery or important guests, but to be spending it with Adanna in an unmistakably romantic setting. The thought was enough to churn the remnants of his breakfast, a loud gargle echoing through the now almost empty common room.
“Hungry again, Gar?” Natty quipped from her armchair perch. She sat with her feet curled under her, a book resting on her knees.
“Quite the opposite, actually. I’m starting to regret the second helping of eggs.”
“That is not like you to regret food. Are you alright? You look quite…twitchy.”
She was right. Garreth had been shuffling backwards and forwards as they talked, hands stuffed into his pockets and flapping like an overactive diricawl.
“I don’t know what to do with myself. I can’t think about anything until this ball is over with.”
“Are you not excited?” Natty asked with a twinkle in her eye.
“I am, but…I have no idea what I’m doing.”
A point proven when Leander came practically skipping up to his side, clutching a small box, neatly wrapped in decorative paper and tied with red ribbon. He was flushed, giddy almost, and just as ‘twitchy’ as Garreth.
“All ready for tonight? Gods, I’m excited. Do you think Adelaide will wear her hair up or down? I don’t suppose it matters,” he babbled, fiddling with the edge of the ribbon and making it fray with his fidgeting fingers. “Oh, I asked the girls and they’ll meet us in the entrance hall at eight.”
Garreth blinked. “Uh, right.”
Yes, he was woefully unprepared. Too distracted by this weird, new dynamic between himself and Adanna that he’d entirely neglected the finer details of the evening.
“Shit.”
“Garreth!” Natty hissed. Once realising that there were in fact no pure and innocent little first years to corrupt with his expletives, she sighed. “What is wrong?”
“I haven’t thought about tonight at all. I thought it would be enough to just show up, you know? My robes are a disaster, and what is that?” Garreth spluttered, pointing to the box Leander was clutching so tightly.
“Just a little something for Adelaide. I thought a gold hairpin to match my tie—”
“See! I haven’t got Ada anything!” Garreth threw up his arms, panic finally setting in.
“I’m sure she won’t be expecting a present, I just thought it would be nice—”
“Yes, you thought. And all I’ve done is worry about whether or not I should tell her she’s beautiful, or kiss her hand when I see her.”
Natty gave Garreth a soft smile and tilted her head in a way that suggested he’d inadvertently said something endearing in his garbled stream of consciousness.
“Well, not much we can do about your robes, they are hideous—”
“Thanks, Leander.”
“—but it’s not too late to get her a gift.”
“Well, it’s a bit late to pop into Hogsmeade,” Garreth grumbled. “But she does always like the flowers I pick for her…”
“She would love a corsage, to match the flowers in her hair,” Natty offered.
Glancing at the great grandfather clock in the corner of the room, Garreth supposed he had a good couple of hours before lunch in which to gather some suitable flowers. Being December in the Scottish highlands, there wasn’t much in the way of flora and fauna sprouting in Hogwarts’ expansive grounds, only a smattering of hellebores and cyclamen offering their colour amongst the bare branches and fallen leaves. But of course, Garreth was awfully used to procuring what he needed from the school supplies. He might have been banned from Sharp’s stores, but Professor Garlick was much more forgiving when it came to sneaking a few extra leaves here and there—she also happened to share Adanna’s love of mundane plants.
“Do you think Garlick would give me a few flowers?” Garreth wondered.
Leander chuckled. “I reckon she’d give you a whole shrub if you told her it was for one of her favourite students.”
~*~
Garreth made the final touches to the corsage by late afternoon. It had been finicky work; not something he’d have trusted to do with magic. His fingers had suffered multiple lacerations from the thorny rose stems before he stripped them off, then bundling the most floriferous of the catmint with a few sprigs of lemon thyme. The oils stung the cuts but smelled divine; fresh citrus from the herbs with a distinct musky perfume from the deep red rose. His professor had offered a pretty white flower to match the asphodel flower crown, but Garreth was drawn to the velvety petals of this particular variety. He knew enough about Adanna that red roses sparked in her a comforting nostalgia; memories of her late mother and the garden she’d tended.
He wrapped the small bundle in red ribbon borrowed from Leander and tied a passable bow, holding it out at arm’s length to admire his handiwork. More used to chopping up flowers and crushing stems, Garreth didn’t quite have the same eye for the beauty that Adanna did, but he was sure that she would be pleased with his efforts.
What remained of the winter sun had dipped below the horizon, and most of his housemates were now in their dormitories readying themselves for the evening, with only a few strays littering the common room. Eric sat in a dimly-lit corner with his wand aloft, muttering some incantation that only seemed to produce a weak flurry of snowflakes before petering out, the carpet below his feet a shadow of damp remnants of magic.
Garreth left for the bathroom and bathed in citrusy suds until the inevitable clamour began outside the door. Eric was soon barging in in blind panic, evacuating Garreth in only a towel that did nothing to hide his modesty or blanket him from the chill. Curls dripping a trail behind him, he hastened back to the dormitory to find Leander fully clothed and fussing over his hair. The gravity-defying coif he usually styled had not a hair out of place.
“Is that glitter in your hair?” Garreth asked, padding back to his bed and shrugging into a fluffy dressing gown.
“No!” Leander yelped, retreating to the mirror and tossing his head back and forth under the lamp light.
Garreth snickered, but the mirth was short-lived as he pulled his robes from the wardrobe. He’d not looked at them in days, somehow hoping that when he came to put them on they might not appear quite so awful—but the frills were just as lacey, the style just as dated. He did not, in fact, have a kind spirit watching over him, ready to bestow good luck and replacement robes.
His face scrunched as fingers glided along the hems, but he could delay no longer. Garreth dried his hair with a gentle wind charm before pulling on his outfit—his smartest pair of breeches and shoes were a promising start, only getting progressively worse with every subsequent layer. The only thing worse than Leander’s jokes were his silence, which was now so loud that Garreth could barely stand it. The ruffled cravat came with the most ludicrous velvet bow tie that he was sure wasn’t intended to match.
Garreth turned to Leander, clutching the limp fabric. “Leander, do you have any spare bow ties?”
“Afraid not,” he replied, trying his hardest not to wince at Garreth’s appearance.
Eric had no such qualms. His eyes blew wide as dinner plates upon entering the dormitory, freshly bathed with dark hair plastered across his forehead. “That’s quite the ensemble, Garreth.”
Garreth groaned. “Do you have any spare bow ties?” he asked Eric, desperation creeping into his voice. “Look at this thing!”
“It matches your eyes,” Eric swooned with a devious grin on his face.
Garreth almost threw the tie at Eric, until it was snatched from his hand by Leander.
“What—”
“You can swap with me,” Leander sighed, holding the emerald fabric up to his neck; the antiquated style contrasted starkly with his sleek robes.
“Are you sure?”
“What are friends for? Ridding you of disastrous bow ties, apparently. I’m afraid I can’t do much about the robes, but Adanna’s eyes deserve a little relief.”
“I’m touched,” Garreth drawled, but he nudged Leander on the arm and smiled in thanks. Usually Garreth would baulk at accepting such charity, but it was testament to just how desperate he was to claw back any scrap of respectability that he hesitantly held out his hand for Leander’s neatly-pressed black tie.
“Thank you, really. At least it matches my shoes.”
Silver linings and all that.
He brushed his hair and did his best to tame it, then dabbed cologne onto his neck before shrugging into the robes. Considering they were his dear cousin’s, they didn’t fit too badly—she’d always been tall, towering over relatives at family functions.
Then there was not much to be done except wait. Minutes ticked by agonisingly slowly before Garreth suggested to his roommates that they hunt down the rest of the Gryffindors as a way to expend his escalating nervous energy. They didn’t have to look much farther than the common room, where Natty, Nellie and—to his dismay—Cressida sat by the fire.
It was some sort of agony to approach the beautifully attired women whilst Garreth himself resembled an elderly witch’s tatty window dressing. He’d expected Cressida’s cruelly amused reaction, given their falling out, but Natty and Nellie were kind enough not to comment on all the ugly details. Somehow, they found compliments amongst the bountiful ruffles (‘they fit you so well!’) whilst Garreth didn’t struggle at all to sing their praises.
Nellie wore a sweeping gown of burgundy silk, Cressida a high-necked navy blue dress with even more lace than Garreth’s robes, whilst Natty had opted for bright swathes of apricot fabric that swept across her collarbone, revealing a lavish gold and amber necklace.
“My mother’s,” she said with a smile. “She can always be counted on for the right accessory.”
“Will she be coming tonight?”
Natty nodded. “I think all the faculty are attending.”
“I can’t wait to see old Mr Moon getting sloshed. Mum’s told me so many stories.”
“Not if the headmaster has anything to say about it,” Leander said.
Nellie sighed, smoothing out her skirt. “Hopefully he doesn’t spoil all the fun.”
“I suppose we’ll find out soon enough,” Cressida said as every head turned in unison towards the old grandfather clock. “Twenty minutes.”
Garreth turned to Leander, his palms suddenly sweaty and the fabric of his waistcoat far too constricting. “Godric. We should find Ada and Adelaide, shouldn’t we?”
Nellie soon peeled away to the dungeons to meet Imelda, Eric hastily walking off to find Samantha, whilst Cressida and Natty linked arms and followed Garreth and Leander towards the Entrance Hall. Natty would be going alone by choice, insisting that the very best way to enjoy a ball was to dance with as many people as possible, though Cressida was rather more dejected by the idea of attending alone. Her fury bore into the back of Garreth's head, but he was determined not to let their animosity sour the mood—besides, he might even thank Cressida for her interference. Without it, he might never have admitted his feelings to Adanna.
And what a wonder she was.
No sooner had they entered the Entrance Hall had his eyes landed upon her, drawn to the head of delicate flowers atop a bed of tightly coiled curls. Only vaguely aware of the festive decorations or anyone else in the room, Garreth headed straight to Adanna, who pulled her eyes away from Adelaide as he approached.
There were not many instances in Garreth’s life where he’d been rendered speechless—having many things to say on most topics; perhaps too many by usual standards—but he could quite unequivocally say that he had lost all ability to speak once Adanna turned to face him, revealing herself in all her glory. Garreth stopped mere inches away and gaped like a fish, until Leander nudged his arm.
“Hello.”
Garreth could practically hear Leander’s eyes rolling beside him.
“Adelaide, you look lovely. I hope you’re well?” Leander asked with only a faint quiver in his voice.
Garreth had somehow been caught in a staring match with Adanna, who’s eyes seemed to swirl and twinkle like the effervescence of his Fizzing Whizzbeer—not the most romantic comparison, and one he’d keep to himself, but nevertheless captivating. She seemed draped in moonlight; an ethereal vision amongst more worldly beings that surrounded her. The silver brocade of her dress skimmed perfect curves that she hid beneath her uniform in a way that was both demure yet utterly enticing, the neckline just low enough for Garreth to find himself struggling to breath when his gaze ventured lower.
“You’re beautiful,” he finally muttered, what might have been minutes after first taking in her appearance.
He could hear Adelaide and Natty squealing in the background.
“Thank you,” Adanna replied with a hint of shyness. “You scrub up well, Garreth.”
He chuckled, and the spell that shrouded her in that otherworldly haze fell away. This was Adanna, after all. Plucking the corsage he’d carefully crafted from behind his back, he offered it in upturned palms.
“I’m afraid it doesn’t quite match the rest of your outfit, but I thought you’d like the colour.”
As she held it beneath her nose, Adanna inhaled deeply and let her eyelids flutter shut. “You were right. It’s perfect, Gar.” She tucked the corsage into a loop of fabric on her dress, sitting just over her heart.
“Shall we go inside?” Garreth asked, holding out his arm. “I’m not sure where Leander’s run off to but I’m sure we’ll spot him.”
Adanna slipped her hand around his forearm—a not entirely foreign gesture—and nodded, then they ventured forth.
Now that Garreth’s brain had acclimated to Adanna’s proximity, he could truly appreciate the lengths to which the school’s staff and house elves had gone to in order to create a yuletide wonderland. Adanna gasped beside him as they entered the Great Hall, casting their eyes upward to the enchanted ceiling; a deep indigo backdrop with swathes of golden starlight, magically enlarged celestial bodies that glimmered beyond reach. Beneath them, gently swaying bells much like those housed in Hogwarts’ belltower—all in warm gold that carried the theme throughout the room.
Garreth pointed out the birds he’d seen earlier—many now roamed free to glide above awestruck guests and perch atop potted trees and garlands, picking berries from amongst prickly foliage. A dozen great firs lined the walls, bedecked in emerald baubles, velvet bows and flowers.The effect was rather like a gilded garden, humming with magic.
“I can certainly see Headmaster Black’s influence,” Adanna commented.
“Speak of the devil.”
Garreth spotted the headmaster making the rounds of the various guests, dressed in his finest emerald tailcoat and silk cravat. Garreth led Adanna out of his path, spotting Natty talking to Nerida over by the refreshments table which overflowed with tiny canapés and bowls full of what looked like fruit punch. It appeared that Natty’s ball card was almost full already, a long night of dancing ahead of her.
As the last of the students filed into the hall, the headmaster took to the raised platform which would usually house the faculty table, but was now packed with decorations, a sleek grand piano and string quartet with no musicians in sight. Black’s speeches were notoriously dull, full of long-winded tangents and inarticulate boasting—the welcome that followed his thunderous call for silence was no exception. At no point did he wish the students a Merry Christmas, only reminded them of the various punishments for ‘unbecoming behaviour’. Garreth might have nodded off, were it not for the introductions of various guests.
Black had clearly invited those he wished to impress; Ministry bigwigs and pureblood wizards that no doubt filled his country manors every summer. No Quidditch prodigies in sight, much to the disappointment of everyone present. Garreth felt his attention wander to the woman next to him as the headmaster droned on about someone's accolades, and he found that he didn't care much at all about the greying wizard’s Order of Merlin when Garreth could happily, and openly, take in Adanna's beauty.
“Are you staring?” she whispered, not turning her head to look his way.
“Maybe a little.”
Her chuckle was drowned out by a weak round of applause as Black finally left the platform, and cheers erupted, to his dismay, as the instruments began to play—the moment had come to show off his newly acquired dance skills.
Luckily, he need not adjust to another partner—by now, he and Adanna knew each other's rhythms. They moved together effortlessly, unburdened by the need to keep some modicum of physical distance. Nor was it strange or awkward, which Garreth had worried it might be. Here their roles were clear; hand in hand, dancing below the twilight sky, there was no ambiguity left. He found his thumb idly stroking Adanna's waist, and she squeezed his arm in return.
Garreth wanted nothing more than to kiss her, and he'd intended to once the song finished, until his plans were thwarted by a barking summons.
“Weasley!”
Adanna stiffened in his arms, her eyes widening.
Garreth grimaced. “What does the headmaster want with me?”
Phineas Black stood on the periphery of the dance floor, chin tilted skyward, waiting. Garreth let Adanna go with all the regret in the world, but she slipped her hand around his arm before he could retreat in a show of solidarity.
He'd had his fair share of tense encounters with Black over the years, particularly in relation to his notoriety as a menace in the potions classroom, but the man now looked more furious than during any reprimand Garreth had previously endured. Whilst still retaining his air of pomposity, Black's nose wrinkled so intensely that Garreth could see right up his nostrils despite standing just as tall.
“Weasley, what are you wearing?”
Ah, so it was his ensemble that had the headmaster’s breeches in a twist.
“Dress robes, sir,” Garreth replied dryly.
He could feel Adanna twitching next to him, no doubt holding in a laugh. Black opened his mouth and bared his teeth, but was interrupted by the arrival of a tall, stiff man with eyes as dark as coal. If Phineas Black had a particularly severe looking cousin, Garreth imagined that this stranger might be another member of the infamous family.
“Augustus, how nice to see you.” Black greeted the man with a strong handshake, Garreth's fashion faux-pas now forgotten—but the man, Augustus, seemed to have noticed Garreth lingering, his gaze drifting slowly over his robes.
Now seemed the opportune time to make a quick getaway. “Well, we'll just be off—”
“Weasley, is it?”
This ‘Augustus’ was addressing Garreth, to Black's horror; he might have preferred if Garreth and Adanna disappeared into the throng never to be seen again.
“Your father is a ministry man.” He said it as a statement. “One might think his son would take more care with his appearance. After all, first impressions reflect on our family name, hm?”
He talked as if Garreth were no longer there, casting a sideways glance to Black who nodded fervently. Garreth's blood boiled, cheeks burning from rage, though he couldn't muster the shame that Augustus seemed so intent on inflicting.
“Ah, you see sir, our family doesn't tend to judge others’ worth by their appearance. Awfully shallow mindset. Anyway, lovely to meet you, but we should get back to dancing.”
He said it in such a cheerfully blithe way that his words would take a moment or two to register. Before either man could retort, Garreth had guided Adanna back into the crowds, weaving through twirling couples engaged in a waltz.
“Gar, stop!” Adanna said, gripping his arm and pulling him to a standstill.
He'd been striding so fiercely that she'd been barely able to keep up.
“Sorry, I—”
“Don't apologise, I just can't walk that quickly in these shoes.”
Garreth exhaled heavily, still trying to rid himself of pent up anger that needed an outlet.
“What a—a—”
He couldn't quite find a word for the horrible man they'd just encountered.
“A git?” Adanna supplied helpfully.
“Precisely.”
“The worst kind of prejudiced wizard. How typical of Black's acquaintances.”
“I suppose I should have expected it,” Garreth said, picking at the lace of his robes.
Adanna pulled his hand away, smoothing down the fabric. Her hands gliding down his chest sent a jolt along the length of his spine, a storm erupting in his gut.
“Would dancing help you calm down?” she asked.
“It might,” he replied with a lopsided smile, entirely distracted by the grip she had on his lapels.
They fell into easy conversation whilst dancing at a languorous pace to a gentle melody, laughter erupting as they made fun of the two grumpy men still conversing at the sidelines whilst the couples trying to enjoy a romantic moment cast disapproving glares their way. But it didn't matter—this was what Garreth loved about being with Adanna. She was such easy company, her presence so comforting and joyful; it seemed at times that she was another piece of Garreth's soul, her presence making him whole.
“He shouldn't be able to say things like that and get away with it,” Adanna said.
“I’ll probably be in detention for the rest of the year just for what I just said, but at least I got the last word.”
She was right, of course. Men such as Black and his friend so rarely met the consequences of their actions. Wild ideas of revenge swirled in his mind, thoroughly distracting him from his footwork.
“Ow!,” Adanna squeaked as Garreth’s foot squashed her toes.
“Sorry! I wasn’t—”
“I can tell when you have an idea, Gar. Your eyes go all misty. What is it?”
“What if I could make sure that he didn’t get away with it?”
Garreth grinned, now remembering a tiny vial filled with swirling ocean blue liquid tucked into his trunk. It was an old brew that he'd experimented on back in fifth year—meant to make the drinker gassy, so that they expelled colourful bubbles. A silly party trick, or a harmless prank. Unfortunately, what he'd actually created was a powerful laxative that Leander had been on the receiving end of. Garreth still teased him about the full day he'd spent on the toilet.
“Wait here,” he said, planting a swift kiss on Adanna's cheeks and attempting to extricate himself from the dance floor.
But Adanna’s grip held firm. “Where do you think you’re going?”
“I have a brilliant idea that’ll give Augustus the absolute worst night of his life.”
Garreth’s thoughts were already miles away with the vial in hand, turning over ideas for how to administer the potion. The curve of his lips faltered slightly when he saw Adanna tilt her head in exasperation.
“Do you really want to spend the night pranking that horrible man?”
Did he? Perhaps some juvenile part of him did. In past years he might even have tried to involve Adanna, but she had always been the one to rein in his more ridiculous and morally questionable ideas. The alternative—spending the evening with her wrapped up in his arms, exploring this entirely new side of their relationship—sounded much more enjoyable, now that he really thought about it. The impulse for revenge dimmed with every passing second, fading entirely as they locked eyes.
“No, not really,” he replied truthfully.
The instruments echoed their final notes, whatever clumsy waltz they’d been attempting came to a stop, and Garreth noticed a faint but unmistakable rustling, an interlude between the strings’ symphonies. He and Adanna looked up to the source at the same time, to find sprigs of mistletoe conjured above their heads. It appeared that the castle itself agreed with Garreth’s assessment.
“I think Hogwarts is trying to tell us something,” he said.
A new song crescendoed and couples seemed to glide around them, paying them no mind as he stroked her cheek, heart pounding so fiercely it was all he could hear. This was it—that moment yearned for but never in his dizziest daydreams did he think would become a reality. The moment that would change the course of their friendship forever, irreparably, that he would pursue without question.When their lips met, they smiled. Finally, they seemed to say in unison, entirely wordlessly as they clung to each other as if the world was ending. Somewhere in this gilded hall, they had found the courage to take a step into the unknown—and neither regretted a thing.
The event is open to writers and artists who want to celebrate our one and only potions prodigy!
How do I enter?
Fill in this form to register as a writer or artist and submit your prompts for fellow creators! Signups will close on 21st September.
Register as a creator and submit prompts for your fellow participants
How long do I have to create something?
Signups will close on 22nd September. Creators will then have until 23rd of October to finish their piece, at which point all submissions should be posted to Tumblr using the #garrethweasleyfest #garrethweasleyfest24 hashtags!
What kind of content can I submit?
The fest will be prompt-based for both art and fics. When signing up you will be asked to submit three prompts for your fellow creators. This can be anything from a word to a scene. Full prompt rules are below the cut.
Where can I go for updates, ideas and to ask questions?
The fest will run primarily on Tumblr and is organised by @cuffmeinblack and @ellivenollivander who are happy to answer any questions!
There is also channel in the Weasley's Wizarding World discord for the event.
Full rules below 👇
General rules/FAQs
🦁 Participants must be able to be contacted by @cuffmeinblack or @ellivenollivander on Tumblr or Discord
🦁 Works should be posted on Tumblr with the fest hashtags but can link off to other websites e.g. ao3 or Poipiku
Content guidelines for creators
🦁 NSFW is welcome!
🦁 There are no restrictions on ships!
🦁 There are no specific topics that are banned, however we ask that creators tag their work accordingly, including all trigger warnings where appropriate. Topics include but are not limited to extreme violence/gore, non-con and dub-con.
🦁 There is no minimum or maximum word count for fics
Prompt guidelines
🦁 You only need to pick one of the three prompts you receive
🦁 Each creator will be asked to give three prompts
🦁 You will not receive your own prompt
🦁 Prompts should not be too prescriptive or force certain ships, but they can either be vague or something more detailed, still allowing for creativity within the prompt
🦁 Prompts should preferably not specify NSFW but at least one should be SFW
my #garrethweasleyfest24 submission- a short story titled:
I Told You So.
My prompt was: -Modern College! AU Academic rivalry
word count: 1164
FULL STORY BELOW! I hope you enjoy!!
“A new transfer student? And why should I care?” Garreth carefully added the last drop of Horklup juice into the cauldron, and watched as the whole thing turned pink. He grinned as he straightened back up, turning towards his ever present friend.
“They’re in your department-” Leander continued, “And they’re supposed to be something of a genius.”
“Again, why should I care?” He removed his goggles from his face, watching his potion out of the corner of his eye to make sure it didn’t boil over.
“Well I thought you might be interested to know about your new competition-” The other boy said with a smirk.
“Competition?! Please. You said the same thing when Cressida Bloom transferred to the Potions department, and look where she is now- gone. Back to Herbology where she belongs.”
“Which is also a great department.” Leander said, his tone a little hostile. He was in fact one of the representatives for his department.
“Of course mate-” Garreth reached out and placed a hand on the other boy’s shoulder. “No one said that it wasn’t.”
He moved back over towards his work.
“But this-” he gestured to his work station “-this is where the real academic excellence is at!”
His potion had gone from pink to purple, and was now sending up waves of green smoke.
“Is it supposed to be doing that?” Leander asked, his nose scrunched up.
“Yup!” Garreth responded, putting his goggles back on.
After putting his eye protection back on he stirred the mixture counter clockwise for a minute, and then added the 3rd to last ingredient. With a pinch of ashwinder egg dust the liquid turned back to pink, but with a much more vibrant hue. Then the smoke turned gray and clouded around them like a storm. This was turning out exactly as he wanted it.
“Well you should be careful nonetheless. Even if you think you’re above the new student you might find yourself slipping with a rival prodding at you from down below.”
Garreth ignored him, continuing to finish his work. Once he added the pearl dust and rose petals it would be just about-
“You shouldn’t add those two together-” a voice said from the other side of his work station.
Both boys looked up, a person barely visible in the haze of his potions vapors.
Garreth scoffed. “And who are you to tell me that? As far as I can see you aren’t a professor.”
He was annoyed at this random person for trying to correct him, but honestly he hoped that it wasn’t a professor- he couldn’t really tell between the goggles and smoke. He only had one female professor though and he was pretty sure this random girl wasn’t her.
“Well both of those are very powerful ingredients when it comes to making a love potion- which is what I assume you are working on by the smoke. If you add them both it may not turn out how you would like it.”
He scoffed again. “Just because everyone else is too small minded to add them both doesn’t mean that it's not going to turn out. Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to finish working on my thesis.”
“Suit yourself-” And he watched through the smoke as she grabbed a large tray and held it over her person. What was that all about?
Garreth shook himself of the annoying girl and focussed back on his potion. He was a little bit more annoyed though as he noticed Leander take a step back from him. Ugh, everyone here just didn’t understand his genius.
He grabbed his ingredients again; one in each hand. Then he sprinkled each onto opposite ends of the cauldron just like he had read about. Adding them at the same time was risky, yes, but if he got this to work he would be able to create the strongest love potions in the world- theoretically. It's just that both needed to settle before they came in contact with each other. If they stayed separate then the potions would become twice as strong, but if they didn’t-
A huge BOOM sounded right before him, causing his ears to ring. Then immediately after the entire contents of his potions blasted out of his cauldron- spraying everything within a 2 foot radius. Garreth dropped to the ground, the failed love potion coating his entire person.
He heard muffled screams of surprise from all around him, but his ears weren’t quite working yet. He tried to look around, but everything was just a big pink and sticky mess. Then he reached up to grab his goggles, slippery from the potions. He took them off, tossing them to the side in frustration.
Garreth was going to attempt to get up, when the person holding the now pink tray brought down their shield. His eyes went wide as he saw her clearly for the first time. She had curly black hair that was tied up in two buns at the top of her head, two strands pulled out and hanging at her face. There was a pair of goggles similar to his own (minus the pink) that she brought off her face and up to her head. Her eyes were a bright beautiful brown that perfectly matched the hue of her skin. She was by far the prettiest girl he had ever seen and she… was saying something to him.
“WHAT??” he called out, his voice sounding muffled in his own head.
She rolled her eyes and he saw her pull out her wand and move it around above the pink goo that now coated his work station. He tried to get to his feet, but slipped around a few times before he got a grip on the edge of the table. By the time he was standing again she was already gone.
“I should have moved farther back-” Leander’s voice said from behind him. It was still more muffled than usual but the ringing had stopped so Garreth could make it out. Garreth turned towards him, seeing that his friend’s t-shirt had been sprayed pink.
“Leander-” he said, moving to grab onto his arms. The other boy made a disgusted face as Garreth’s pink hands made prints on him. “Who was that girl??”
“Girl?”
“Yes! The one who was holding the tray!”
Leander smirked, and removed Garreth’s hands. He brushed off the handprints as much as he could before he looked back up at him.
“Well funny enough, that’s who I was telling you about.”
“What?” Garreth said, his head tilted.
“That-” Leander pointed towards where the girl had gone. “Was your new rival.”
Garreth looked up with wide eyes and then quickly turned back to his station. He made his way over to his cauldron, slipping but not falling into the pink mess below his feet. He leaned over the top of the table, looking to where she had left her message. Then he smirked as he read aloud-
🌼Summary: 5 times that Garreth Weasley, florist extraordinaire, wielded the power of floral arrangements, and the 1 time he received one of his own.
🌼Rating: T
🌼[read on AO3]// 4.6k words
🌼One-shot, GarrethWeasleyFest24 Event
🌼Prompt: Florist!AU and Flower Language
🌼Pairing: Garreth Weasley/Artemis Loreley
🌼Minor Pairings: Sebastian Sallow/Ominis Gaunt, Isaac Cooper/Imelda Reyes, Leander Prewett/Anne Sallow
🌼 This is my entry for @garrethweasleyfest
🌼 Out of the prompts given, I selected Florist!AU and flower language, though also made it into a Modern AU as well. There are... flowers. Lots and lots of flowers. Hope you really like flowers.
🌼 Thank you to cuffmeinblack and ellivenollivander for hosting!
🌼 Very happy to contribute, and please give love to all of the amazing creators of this event under #garrethweasleyfest and #garrethweasleyfest24!
1.
The silver bell chimed as the large, wooden framed door to New Blooms opened one April evening. The faded, early evening light that flowed from the large storefront windows warmed the dark green interior and the light wooden floor.
“Hey Garreth.”
“Sebastian!” Garreth Weasley greeted brightly as he finished placing the carnations. “Never thought I’d see you here.”
The redhead wiped his hands lightly on his dark brown apron, making sure that neither his light blue button-up nor olive drab trousers were dirtied. He faced his fellow freckled friend, except that unlike Garreth with his wavy copper hair tied in a low, short ponytail, Sebastian Sallow had short brown hair that seemingly defied the laws of gravity.
Sebastian grinned a moment before he tousled his hair. “Right. Well, let’s say I needed a bit of uh, reinforcements.”
“Is that so,” started Garreth. “Alright. What can I get you?”
“Flowers.”
“Really now.” Garreth placed a hand on his chest. “I thought you wanted a toolbox.”
Sebastian snorted. “A bouquet. The bigger the better.”
“That a comment on something?”
Sebastian rolled his eyes.
Garreth laughed. “And what is it that you want to say?”
“Something along the lines of ‘I’m sorry I fucked up’.”
Garreth lifted an eyebrow; Sebastian laughed quietly.
“...how bad?”
“Pretty bad,” mumbled Sebastian. The slightly taller man tousled his hair even more.
Garreth shrugged as he gestured toward the myriads of flowers all around them.
“Alright then. What does she -”
“- he,” corrected Sebastian.
“...he?”
Garreth gasped as he whipped back around with the biggest grin.
“- no.” Sebastian cut him off before he sighed. “Not yet.”
Garreth groaned as he covered his eyes with his palm. “Well hurry up. I’d like to not be in a nursing home when it finally happens.”
“Ha ha, very funny,” deadpanned Sebastian as he pulled out his smartphone and started dialling up someone on speaker. “One thing at a time.”
“Please tell me you aren’t calling him to ask.”
“I’m not that daft. I’m calling in the cavalry.”
Garreth was about to ask who this cavalry was just as the receiver picked up.
“Sebastian? You do know what time it is, right?” The voice on the other end of the line asked, her voice huskier than usual but no less soft.
Sebastian checked his watch. “Uh, seven? Supper time?”
“It’s three in the morning.”
Garreth’s heart skipped at hearing their friend’s voice from the other end; Artemis Loreley had left England two weeks ago for a year-long research exchange program in Japan. Poor girl probably thought it was an emergency.
“Apologies, but I figured you’d be the best help, Artie.”
“You upset Ominis?”
Sebastian looked up at Garreth. “Is she psychic?”
“No, you’re just predictable,” said Artemis as Garreth shrugged. Her voice had returned to its usual tone; he could picture her shaking her head with a small smile. “Hi Garreth, I assume you’re there?”
Garreth thought Sebastian had a point - she could be psychic.
“Hey Snow,” chimed Garreth. “Do you know Ominis’ favourite flower?”
“Tulips.”
Sebastian beamed. “See I knew you’d know! Thanks Artie.”
“You’re welcome. And good luck. Just, if you send a report, I’d appreciate it if it’s in a few hours from now.”
“On it. Night Artie.”
“Good night, Snow.”
“Good night you two. Talk to you soon.”
Sebastian’s screen returned to the phone app; Artemis’ icon of her black cat sleeping in a way that questioned the presence of a spine looked back. Garreth couldn’t help but smile; at least she seemed to be doing alright.
Garreth gestured to Sebastian to stand by the wooden countertop, and he got right to work. He hummed his favourite song as his vision for Sebastian’s apology bouquet came to fruition.
“And now just this little knot here and - finished! Here you are,” announced Garreth as he propped up the bouquet in its display stand.
Sebastian hummed as he looked at the bouquet, and then snorted. “An olive branch? A bit literal, isn’t it?”
“I’m just making sure that the message comes in loud and clear,” started Garreth as he pointed to the masterpiece wrapped in gentle, clear wrapping and a blue cloth cord. “Bluebells for humility - you being humble for once. Peonies for bashfulness, well, to some degree. And of course, the literal olive branch. That hyacinth is there to ask for Ominis’ forgiveness.”
“And the tulips?” Sebastian asked as he pointed to the multiple red tulips in the bouquet. The vibrancy made them pop; it didn’t matter if Ominis was blind, it was the thought that counted.
“It means ‘believe me’.”
Garreth didn’t mention the other meaning behind it.
“Fantastic.” Sebastian beamed as he made his payment. “Thanks, Garreth.”
“Happy to help. I am, after all, florist extraordinaire.”
Sebastian rolled his eyes but kept his grin. “Alright. Wish me luck.”
That night, Garreth’s phone buzzed. A picture of Ominis with his set blond hair and in a proper dinner suit, holding the apology bouquet in his hands had been sent to the group. His unseeing marbled blue eyes were softened toward the red tulips; his fingertips seemed to gently caress the petals. A little blip of thanks, it worked wonders followed.
Garreth fell asleep with a smile just as he saw Artemis respond back with a black cat thumbs up sticker.
2.
Garreth pulled up to a quaint little park about an hour outside of the city early July morning. The client had been rather vague about whom he was supposed to make the delivery to as he pulled up in the New Blooms delivery van. Whomever this was, he had somehow cordoned off the park from passerby for the full day.
A singular man stood at the edge of the park in a light grey trench coat, a fedora, and sunglasses. He’d just pulled down his white face mask to take a sip from a plain white coffee cup.
Garreth wondered perhaps he was meeting with the next docuseries serial killer.
“Hello, Mr…. Anderson?” He called to the man as he tentatively approached. “Garreth Weasley from New Blooms.”
The suspicious man lifted his head and had what one would call an award-winning smile. He lifted the cup in his hand in greeting.
“That’s me. Apologies for the bit of cloak and dagger,” answered the man. “Can’t risk being spotted.”
The possibility of the man being a docuseries serial killer had increased by tenfold. Even if his order was incredibly romantic.
Garreth cleared his throat with a smile; he was, after all, a florist extraordinaire. “I understand. I’d like to go over the final placements of the arch and design before we proceed.”
With another cup lift from Mr. Anderson - he really wasn’t sure if that was his real name - and one earbud in his ear, Garreth began his work. The morning dew slowly dissipated and gave way to the bright summer sun. A trickle of sweat rolled down the back of his neck as he worked to set the arch to surround a particular wooden bench in the park.
This absolutely had to be perfect.
As the songs continued to flow, Daisy Boy rolled up and he started to hum. A smile spread as Garreth remembered when it came out his first year at uni. He’d been humming the tune the first Friday afternoon in spring term and, admittedly, was not paying attention. At least, until he’d unceremoniously bumped into someone and caused them to go off kilter straight to the courtyard grass.
“I’m so sorry,” Garreth apologised as he lowered his headphones. “Are you alright?”
The svelte girl wore a simple dark green blouse and black trousers; her hair a natural snow-white in a braided crown. Her main concern seemed to be the daisies that'd been crushed under her crossbody school bag.
“I’m fine,” her soft, alto voice responded as she looked up. Her bangs naturally framed her fair face as his gaze met hers - her almond-shaped eyes were a dark, forest green and a few shades lighter than his own.
Garreth at least had the decency to offer his hand; she blinked twice and slipped her much smaller, cooler hand into his. When she stood, she came just below his chin.
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome, considering I’m the reason you ended up down there in the first place.”
She gently batted her right hand; she was hugging a plant biology textbook to her chest. “Daisy Boy?”
“Huh? Oh,” started Garreth as he tilted his cheek. The song was bleeding from his headphones. “Yeah. You know it?”
“I've got a set of twin friends who have it on repeat.” She chuckled lightly. “Drives Ominis absolutely off the wall. I rather enjoy it - it's a cute song.”
Garreth lifted an eyebrow with a smile. “You know Ominis? So… I’m guessing the twins are the Sallows?”
The snow-haired girl - Snow, he ordained as a moniker - blinked twice.
“Yes. Small world.”
“Agreed. Garreth Weasley, by the way.”
“Artemis Loreley.”
He looked up to the clear blue sky as the song ended; he wondered if Artemis was doing the same two continents away.
With the final rose in place and once-over done, he declared that the floral arch was completed to perfection.
“Mr. Anderson? The arch is completed,” announced Garreth as the man returned at the agreed upon time.
Mr. Anderson looked different without the long trench coat, white mask or fedora. In fact, in his pale blue suit, stylized brown hair and fashionable sunglasses, he looked rather dapper. And familiar, though Garreth couldn’t quite place him.
“Wow, this is brilliant, Mr. Weasley.” Mr. Anderson appraised the floral arch with his award-winning smile. “I’m very glad to have trusted New Blooms with this.”
108 roses of red, pink and white, all in full bloom, were strategically placed along the green archway. Sheer, glimmering cloth draped - perfect to capture the sunset rays of the planned proposal. If the man wasn’t going to ask the question outright, the 108 roses would ask for him.
With a final exchange of details and confirmation that he’d be picking up the arch later that night, Garreth left as he wished Mr. Anderson good luck. As he munched on a BLT sandwich in the next town over, his phone started to blow up. He unlocked his phone screen - daisies in a spring field - and nearly choked on his coffee as he opened the notification for the New Blooms social media account.
The football star Isaac Cooper had announced his engagement to fellow football star Imelda Reyes. There was a selfie of ‘Mr. Anderson’, the man he’d only just departed from an hour ago, next to the woman with sharp brown eyes and low dark brown ponytail in a dark green dress. The sunset shimmered amongst the draped cloth and the roses. They were focused on each other as the camera snapped; the emerald ring glittered on Imelda’s ring finger with her hand cupping Isaac’s cheek.
A single caption read: ‘Will you marry me?’ Message well received.
3.
Rain poured against Garreth’s simple, black umbrella; the darkened skies cried as he barely held back his own tears. The lump in his throat threatened to crush his larynx - it wouldn’t, but it sure as hell gave a good go - as he stared down at the grave surrounded by flowers. With a heavy sigh, he knelt and placed his homemade bouquet to join the others. His fingertips dragged across the wet headstone; the engraved name was cold to the touch unlike the heart of the woman that was laid to rest.
His phone vibrated as Daisy Boy played; the bright tune juxtaposed the early November wind that nipped at his nose.
Garreth cleared his throat as he tapped his screen. “Hey Snow.”
“Hi Garreth,” Artemis’ voice flowed from the other end. “Just wanted to see if you were okay to talk?”
“Yeah, yeah. Um.” Garreth cleared his throat again. “Isn’t it kind of late… there?”
“A little, but there are more important things than sleep.”
“A cheeky nightcap?”
An airy laugh flowed from the other end. Garreth’s smile was drawn to the sound.
“Being there for you. Or,” Artemis huffed lightly, “well, as much as one could be, considering the distance. I’m truly sorry I couldn’t be there for the funeral.”
He couldn't hold back the sniff as he sat himself down on the wet ground, nor the way how his chest warmed, touched by her actions.
“No. No, it’s alright. I understand. It's not like we knew this'd happen, you know,” he started as he leaned slightly against the headstone. “Plus, you called right when I messaged you about it.”
“Of course I did,” said Artemis without hesitation.
His fingertips brushed the mint within his bouquet; it didn't nearly console him as the person on the other end of the line did.
“I'd like to stop by when I come back next spring. Pay my respects.”
“Yeah that'd be great. Aunt Matilda would love that. How many more months left?”
“Five.”
“Five?”
“Mhm. Time flies, doesn't it?”
He'd argue it was still too long, though he huffed a laugh instead. “Yeah, yeah it does.”
The raindrops softened their blows against his umbrella.
“Do you remember that time,” Garreth started as he thumbed between the marigold blooms and cypress leaves, “when we had that giant snowball fight back in second year?”
Artemis laughed; Garreth could hear something rustle on her end. Maybe she was getting into bed? After all, it was nearly one in the morning there.
“Yes I do. That was so much fun, even if you pelted me with a ball of ice.”
“All's fair in Winter Wonderland War luv.”
“Can’t believe - no, I take that back - I can believe Anne thought that was the best way to get Leander’s attention.”
“I mean, mission accomplished. That got her a hot cocoa date,” mused Garreth.
“I just, when you threw your snowball and it hit Professor Weasley’s face,” Artemis chuckled, “now that was a moment to remember.”
A laugh bubbled up from his chest. Aunt Matilda had stood there stiff as a board as his ‘super snowball supreme’ made contact. A pin drop could’ve been heard in the silence that followed, and that would’ve been something, considering the blanket of powdered snow. Frankly he’d thought that’d be his final day on earth. Got the wigging of a lifetime, but he didn’t miss the corner of her lip turned up like she’d been holding back a smile.
The floodgates opened and he continued to pour out stories. He repeated a few from the funeral as he shared laughs and commentary with Artemis. The chamomile blooms tickled as he gently lifted the petals; his aunt truly was loved by all who knew her. A plethora of wisdom.
“...Snow?” Garreth asked after a while, noticing that she hadn’t responded as she had been. “Snow?”
Momentary panic gripped his chest before he picked up slowed, even breathingHe dropped his gaze to his watch - seven. He tilted his umbrella as he looked up to the full moon and not a cloud in the sky. They’d been talking for nearly two hours so… it must be three in the morning there.
Garreth chuckled softly alongside her soft breathing at the other end of the line. “Sweet dreams, Snow.”
4.
Garreth looked down from his seat on the second floor of the auditorium. The rare January morning sun seeped through the opened windows and illuminated the empty front rows for the graduate students to sit in. To his left sat his friend Natsai Onai, or Natty for short, a current criminal law graduate student in a brilliant cobalt jumpsuit. To his right was Anne Sallow - a pharmaceutical graduate student and Leander Prewett’s girlfriend. She was adorned in a deep green dress and wore the little ruby earrings that Leander had gifted her a couple years ago at her birthday party.
“At least Leander will be very easy to spot,” mused Natsai. Her golden bangles clinked as she leaned her cheek against her hand. “You did a great job with that lion, Anne.”
“Thanks Natty. Lee really wanted one but well. He’s not exactly artistic.” Anne chuckled as the bright bouquet rustled in her lap. “And thanks Garreth, for making this. I knew you’d be the best.”
Garreth beamed as he placed a hand on his chest. “Of course. I am, after all, the florist extraordinaire.”
Natsai rolled her dark brown eyes with a smile. “Sebastian not coming?”
“Psh. My brother is off on his date.”
“So he finally did something?” Garreth asked.
Anne laughed as she shook her head; her tawny brown bangs rustled. “More like Ominis did.”
“Good on him,” said Natsai.
“Thought we’d be in nursing homes before anything happened,” added Garreth.
The three of them shared a laugh as the auditorium doors closed loudly.
“Though they aren’t the only ones that are taking forever,” muttered Anne.
Garreth looked toward the freckled brunette with a tilt of his head. “What do you mean?”
Anne gave him a deadpanned look; Natsai chuckled quietly. But before he could press further, the opening speaker had unceremoniously patted the microphone and announced the graduation ceremony shall commence. The band began to play, and as the formal procession continued, Garreth spotted his best mate. The golden lion formed from the carefully placed gemstones atop Leander’s black graduation cap really did stand out from the others; one of the rare decorated ones. The half-circle auditorium filled with too long speeches from various faculty and speakers, and the steady procession of students receiving their diploma on the stage accompanied by reverberating claps. Garreth’s hands were red with how loudly he’d clapped, and the smile never died down as he watched his best mate get that hard-earned masters in business.
After the admittedly long ceremony, they’d moved to the open lawn; Anne had rushed ahead of him and Natsai as she beelined for the crowd of Prewett redheads.
“This reminds me of our undergraduate ceremony,” commented Natsai next to him, their steps unrushed. “Have you kept up with everyone?”
“I try. You?”
“I do my best. Of course, Anne, Poppy and Artie are in their graduate studies as well, so that does make things easier.”
Garreth hummed as they reached where Leander was. He couldn’t help the smile that spread as Anne presented his best mate with the joyous, bright congratulatory bouquet. Red carnations and Peruvian lilies accented the daffodils, dwarf-sunflowers, and golden wheat that took centre stage. Well wishes for Leander’s new life chapter to be filled with riches, and Anne’s personal desire to show their powerful, adoring bond - Garreth had been particularly proud of incorporating those dwarf-sunflowers to fill in the little gaps. With the yellow tassel that brought it all together, it was no wonder Leander beamed the way he did as he kissed his girlfriend and held her close.
“Garreth! Natty! Thanks for coming,” brightly greeted Leander.
Anne slipped out of his hold as Leander gave a one-armed hug and back claps to Garreth.
“Congratulations Lee!” Garreth cheered as he squeezed Leander into the hug, careful to not hurt the flowers. “Wouldn’t miss you becoming Mr. Business Man.”
“Eh, my job won’t start up until next month - gonna enjoy that time to relax a little,” remarked Leander before he moved to hug Natsai. “Thanks for coming Natty.”
“Of course.”
“Come on, let’s take a selfie first,” suggested Anne as she pulled her phone out.
“Here I’ll do it. Got the longer arms after all.”
Anne grinned as she passed her phone to Garreth. “Show off.”
“Not my fault I got longer arms.”
Natsai laughed as she stood next to Anne, and Leander held Anne’s shoulder with the bouquet and diploma to his chest. Anne held both of her friend’s and boyfriend’s backs with a beaming smile and Garreth stood next to Leander with his arm thrown over his shoulder.
Picture perfect.
5.
Garreth breezed by the familiar scenery of his alma mater as he expertly dodged the uni student not paying attention. He smirked at how that had him years ago, though he didn’t spot an unsuspecting girl crouched near the blooming daisies. But he wasn’t here for a simple visit. No, he knew exactly where he was headed as he picked up his pace toward the university’s science building.
It’d taken a few minutes, but soon enough he found himself in the lobby of the botanical science labs. He readjusted his crossbody leather bag as he idly looked around.
“Daisy Boy, will you smile my way?
Will you show me how to dance and sway?
Daisy Boy, hey, you light my day
While you keep the little fairies away.”
“Practising your debut?”
Garreth stopped singing as he turned around and beamed. Artemis was smiling at him, in the flesh, as she stood in the door frame. She wore practically hiking gear - too wide and too long brown pants with plenty of pockets, long-sleeved dark green shirt that hugged her svelte form with thumb holes, and hiking shoes dusted with fresh soil. Her snow-white hair, as it had been ever since the day they met, was in the braided crown as her bangs framed her face.
“Of course, been training my pipes all year to my favourite song,” joked Garreth as he strides toward her.
She’d taken perhaps two steps before he’d wrapped his arms around her and pulled her against his chest. Warm and here, not thousands of kilometres away. The familiar, faint scent of her golden osmanthus perfume tickling his nose even as it cut through the fresh soil scent that lingered in the air. Her hands wrapped around his back; her usually cool hands warmed the muscle underneath.
He missed her more than he’d thought. “Welcome back, Snow.”
“Thank you,” answered Artemis as she leaned back. Her forest green eyes met his as she tilted her head. “We’re supposed to meet up this weekend, right? Did you swing by to see someone?”
“What, you thought I came to visit someone else?”
Artemis blinked twice as she let go. It seemed a few degrees colder without her in his arms.
“Me?”
“Mhm! Thought you’d be back in the labs even though you just came back last night. Figured I could entice you with some lunch. Take a break.”
“I’m only here to turn in a few things - “
“- right, and that’s why you’re in your gear and have fresh dirt on your shoes.”
Artemis opened her mouth to retort no doubt. Garreth was faster as he held out the bouquet he’d been holding in his right hand.
“Come on Snow, an hour minimum isn’t going to end the world,” started Garreth as he slightly held the bouquet forward a little more. “I’ll even sweeten the deal with a candy apple.”
Artemis’ airy laugh flowed through his ears as his cheeks hurt from smiling. She reached and accepted the bouquet with both hands. The dark green paper was tied with a silver ribbon, and housed an assortment of flowers. Purple sea lavenders, white sweet cicely, little daisies and single branches full of her favourite golden osmanthus and hawthorn blooms. Her eyes softened as she gazed at the flowers, and her fingertips delicately caressed the petals.
“I'm glad to be home too,” answered Artemis softly.
Garreth wasn't sure if that comment was toward the flowers or to him. But his chest skipped a beat nonetheless. Instead, he nodded, knowing that she understood his message.
Something passed through her eyes as she smiled. “Alright, you win. Let's go get lunch.”
“Brilliant.”
6.
Garreth flopped onto their shared picnic blanket with a hefty breath. The spring blue sky spread in infinite measure as fluffy white clouds lazily passed by. His lunch sat in his stomach at something that borderline discomfort; maybe wearing his jeans wasn’t the best choice in attire today.
“Nothing beats some stodgy fish n’ chips I say.”
“I’m sure there’s a few opinions that’d say otherwise,” Artemis lightly commented. “Thank you for taking half of mine; didn’t realise I can’t stomach a full portion anymore.”
A hard crunch and candy cracked diagonally above his left. Garreth smiled as he closed his eyes.
“Can imagine that Japanese food wasn’t nearly as heavy. Candy apple going down well?”
“Mhm.” A couple moments of silence passed. “Want a bite?”
Garreth opened his eyes; a juicy red apple glistened in its candied glory above his face with a bite taken out. He didn’t bother taking the candy apple stick from her hold; instead, he wrapped his hand around her entire wrist and brought the dessert close enough to sink his teeth in. The hardened candy delectably shattered as the sweet apple juice intermingled against his tongue.
“You know you could just take the whole thing, right?” Artemis’ alto voice floated down. “No need to hold my wrist hostage.”
“I’m noshakin’ rish - “
“- I can’t understand apple, Garreth.”
Garreth chuckled as he continued to chew on his bite and let go of her wrist. The April sun was gentle against his skin as he readjusted the rolled-up sleeves of his burgundy shirt to sit more comfortably against his elbows. He reclosed his eyes, content with simply basking in the sun and the warm hug within from lunch.
“I’m surprised you’d brought the picnic blanket with you,” remarked Artemis.
“Yeah, that happens when your friend tells you ‘you never know where and when some dog went to the bathroom’.”
“Hm, not heard that one.”
“Really now,” mused Garreth. “Seem to recall you saying that second year.”
Artemis softly laughed as the smile remained on Garreth’s face. He wasn’t sure what exactly it was, but this was… good. Lovely, even. The wind rustled the lush trees and grass around the courtyard as another candied crunch reverberated.
“So what’s the plan?” Garreth asked after a few moments.
“Well, I need to tie together the research we did in the international lab. Finish up the thesis, prep the defence.”
“No more year-long adventures to Japan?”
“Not for the moment, no.”
Something, again, warm and light bloomed in his chest.
“Could you sit up for me?”
Garreth hummed. “But the fish don’t want to move.”
“The fish I’m sure are seated fine in your stomach acid. Please? I’ve got a little surprise.”
Garreth blinked open his eyes as he turned his head slightly to his left. Artemis sat there with her back straightened, her feet folded under her as she held a beautifully woven daisy crown in her hands.
“A daisy crown?”
“Mhm.”
“For me?”
“Don’t see any other Garreth Weasleys around,” Artemis teased with a lilt. “Come on, I’ll put it on you.”
Garreth cleared his throat as he sat up, and tilted his head down just enough to hopefully mask the heat that slowly spread under his cheeks. Flowers weren’t just flowers, not to him. They were his life’s work - they always meant something. That’s why people always came to him for flower arrangements or bouquets, why he was the florist extraordinaire - he knew exactly which flowers to use to get the message across.
Most people didn’t know them well - not like him. Not like Artemis. She was the one person that knew just about the same as he did in this field. So which message did she mean?
A whiff of her golden osmanthus perfume tickled his nose as she gently placed the crown upon his head. He lifted his gaze as his eyes met her forest green ones. Was spring always this warm?
“So,” Garreth cleared his throat lightly, “how do I look, Snow?”
Something soft passed in her eyes as her pale peach lips lifted into a smile, and she whispered as soft as the daisy petals that tickled his forehead.
