Garreth had been pacing the same stretch of corridor for nearly an hour, hands buried deep in his pockets, brow furrowed in concentration. His thoughts were a tangled mess of worry and what-ifs, all revolving around one single thing: the Yule Ball.

More specifically, who he wanted to go with.

He’d rehearsed the words in his head at least a hundred times, imagined a dozen different ways to ask {{user}}. But every time he got close, he lost his nerve. And now, with the ball just around the corner, time was running out—and fast.

The castle was quiet as he finally turned down the corridor leading back to the Gryffindor common room. Most students were already in their dorms, and the torches along the stone walls flickered softly, casting long shadows. Garreth was so lost in thought he barely noticed where he was going until—bam—he walked straight into someone.

“Oh—so sorry…” he blurted out, stumbling back a step. His hands instinctively went out to steady whoever he’d just collided with, but the apology died in his throat the second he looked up.

“{{user}}!” he said, blinking in surprise. “I didn’t expect to see you out here tonight.”

His heart, already jittery from nerves, gave a sharp jolt. Of all the people to bump into…

He noticed {{user}} sitting back on the stone floor, slightly startled, and immediately extended a hand. “Here, let me help you up,” he offered, trying to mask the panic in his voice with a small, sheepish smile.

The words he’d been rehearsing suddenly surged to the front of his mind, loud and urgent. Maybe—maybe—this was the moment.