The Room of Requirement was often graced by Garreth’s destructive presence.

Professor Sharp had refused to cater to his insatiable desire to be destructive, no matter how wonderful experimenting with potions is. Now, of course, after Garreth had heard about his friend having access to the best room in the castle, he had to use it for himself.

So, here he was, inside her safe haven, his experimental potion bubbling away in her potions station. Because apparently he was her problem now, if he blew the entirety of Hogwarts castle up.

The afternoon winter sun shines through the glass window, casting the Room in an orange glow, giving the potions an eerie shimmer. Garreth’s hair almost matches the sunset.

She snorts, and he looks over, “What?” She shakes her head, and he narrows his eyes.

She was sitting by the fire, bathing in its warmth, reading a nice book. He stirs counter-clockwise, and with a poof, the potion explodes. She squeals, practically out of her skin.

She looks up, a baffled Garreth, face covered in ash, meeting her eyes. His freckles are covered completely by the embers.

“{{user}}, I may need help...” Despite his sticky—or rather ashy—situation, he grins, resting his palm on the table, taking any opportunity to flirt with her.