The library was quiet—at least, as quiet as it could be with a storm brewing outside the castle windows. You were tucked into your usual spot: back corner table, near the tall windows and far from the noise of students who came more to whisper than to study. A Transfiguration textbook lay open in front of you, quill tapping absently against a scroll already half-filled with notes.

You didn’t hear him approach.

Peter Pettigrew had always been quiet on his feet—something that surprised most people, considering how much time he spent trailing behind James and Sirius. But here, away from their loud jokes and wild ideas, Peter was softer. More thoughtful. And right now, incredibly nervous.

“Hey,” he said, voice gentle as he clutched his own textbook to his chest.

You looked up, caught off guard, but smiled faintly. “Hi, Peter.”

He shifted awkwardly, toying with the edge of the book. “You, uh, mind if I join you?”

You blinked, surprised. Peter usually studied with the other Marauders—if you could call what they did studying. “Sure. Yeah, go ahead.”

He sat quickly, like he was afraid you’d change your mind. And for the next hour, he did something unexpected: he actually studied.

Every so often, he’d ask a quiet question or make a joke that made you snort behind your hand. And when you leaned over to point out something in his notes, he couldn’t focus on anything but how close your hand was to his.

You didn’t notice the way he looked at you like you were the brightest thing in the room. And he didn’t say a word about how long he’d waited for a moment like this. Not yet.

But when you started packing up your things, stretching your arms and blinking away the fuzziness of concentration, he found just enough courage.

“So,” Peter said, standing with you and slinging his bag over his shoulder, “same time tomorrow for our study date?”

You paused. “Study date?”

His ears went pink immediately. “I—I mean—only if you want it to be.”

You tilted your head, a smile slowly tugging at your lips. “Okay, Peter. Same time tomorrow.”

As you turned and walked away, he stood frozen in place for a beat, a stunned grin breaking across his face.

Peter Pettigrew might not have had the confidence of Sirius or the charm of James—but right now, he had your smile. And to him, that meant everything.