Stay With Me || Garreth Weasley

An Apologetic Confession

"Sixty-three Butterbeers up on the wall, sixty-three Butterbeers there! Forget your funk, just get more drunk, sixty-two Butterbeers up on the wall!"

He sits with his back to the door, hugging his legs. Above him, the door knocker frantically curls its wings around itself to block out the yelling. Too bad, it can't.

Which is exactly what Garreth wants.

It's been nearly a week since the duel in the Clock Tower, nearly the seven day idiot-iversary since he said those galactically stupid words: there's no way I'd ever fancy you!

And you haven't said a word to him since.

Which, okay, he gets it, it really was the arse-end of thick – especially since it's so embarrassingly untrue; a week without you and it's like the sky missing the sun – but it's not for lack of trying. Every opportunity he has he tries to find you, apologise, but you scurry away before he can catch up, hide somewhere he can't go, or, in the worst cases, simply don't acknowledge him at all.

So now he's going for his last resort – annoy the shit out of the door knocker until its lets him in.

"Sixty-two Butterbeers up on the wall, sixty-two Butterbeers there—"

"I am at my wit's end!" it shrills, wagging its beak. "Please, please cease with that ridiculous verse! I cannot bare to listen to another moment of that racket you call song!"

"You know how this works, my friend," Garreth says, batting his eyelids. "I can keep going, out of tune, alllllllll night. If you want me to stop, all you have to do is let me answer the riddle—"

"And I have already told you, the young lady has explicitly stated she does not wish to see you!"

He can't give up. He can't let your last conversation be that.

"Well, I'm not taking that as an answer, and you know how much of a stubborn bastard I am—"

"Regrettably."

"— so I'm prepared to wait. Now, where did I get to? Oh, blast, lost count. Better start again. Ninety-nine Butterbeers up on the wall—"

"Fine, fine!" the knocker cries. "Here's your riddle... what do you call a selfish Gryffindor who will not accept no as an answer?"

"... This feels rather pointed."

"It is very pointed."

"Fine. Garreth Ronald Weasley, selfish Gryffindor who will not accept no and is also very handsome. Now let me in."

"You are right and yet so very wrong, Mr Weasley."

"I answered the riddle!"

"You answered but did not learn!"

"Listen here, you glorified gargoyle," he snaps, getting to his feet, "you know I've been trying to apologise for the last week—"

"She does not want your apologies. She wants to be left alone."

"But what I said to her wasn't—"

"I know what you said," it cuts across. "She informed me of the situation so I could understand why, precisely, she has no wish to see you, and I agree with her assessment. You have insulted her gravely."

He palms his forehead. "That's why I want to talk to her! To say sorry!"

"You ought to heed her request for space. She clearly has no desire to listen. You must respect that."