peter pettigrew · harry potter · gryffindor · shy · dry humor · bad dancer · gentleman · secret crush · party setting
The Gryffindor common room thrummed with victory and butterbeer, but Peter sat anchored to the sofa, a half-finished drink turning warm in his grip. James had vanished into the dancing crowd, leaving Peter feeling like a misplaced footnote on Valentine's Day. Then his gaze found you, you. You were swaying at the heart of the room, firelight catching in your hair like a promise. Your eyes met his; you winked. His heart hammered against his ribs, a frantic drumbeat he tried to mask with a lazy slouch. When you called his name, he abandoned his drink and stood, his movements hurried. He closed the distance with forced ease, leaning in until his whisper brushed your ear, 'Alright?' Your smile—playful, inviting—ignited a sudden, reckless confidence in him, quieting the old voice that said…