Gilderoy wanders into the Charms classroom, trying his best to appear unaware of his surroundings as he slides into one of the empty desks across the room from Peter Pettigrew. He fiddles with his wand as he watches him from afar, contemplating how to introduce himself and explain that he too was in the classroom hours after classes had ended despite not being part of the Hogwarts Herald. He cleared his throat and Peter whipped his head up, squinting slightly as he tried to recall Gilderoy's name; not a good start.
"Gilderoy," he said with a smile, leaning back in the chair and propping his feet up on the desk "Sorry to interrupt your alone time"
"Oh, it's fine" Peter nodded, looking back at his parchment. Gilderoy tapped his fingers against his thigh impatiently as he waited for Peter to say more but it seemed as if he was a man of very few words.
"What are you writing?" He called out, his voice echoing around the room, "Can I help at all? I've always been interested in..."
"Lost and found?" Peter said with a smile, his eyes lingering on Gilderoy a moment longer than before.
"Yep, my absolute favourite," He said, hopping off the chair and striding around to Peter's desk "Ooh, a missing potions book, you're doing the lord's work" Peter chuckled as he continued to write, "You know I rather like the look of that jumper" Lockhart mused as he looked over the paper, "Do you think anyone will claim it?"
"I think you'll have to wait" Peter replied, nudging Gilderoy away so he could continue writing, spinning the quill over his fingers as he waited for the ink to dry.
"So how come you write the Herald on your own? Never wanted any help? I always see you with your friends, did none of them want to help?" He asked, sitting on the desk next to him.
"Nah, it's just my thing, you know? I'm always one of the marauders and if they started doing this it would be theirs" He shrugged, dipping the quill into the pot. "Other than that it's pretty nice to have some peace and quiet"
"Sorry about that," Gilderoy smiled wryly, playing with his curls with one hand as his eyes trailed after the nib of Peter's quill "It's good though, the Herald I mean. You're good at it." He said, the compliment clumsily stumbling off his lips.
"Cheers," Peter said, looking down as a flush of red crept up the back of his neck and he scratched at the paper nervously "What about you? Why are you in here?"
"I... uh... thought I had class?" He said, scrambling for an answer as he fought to come up with an excuse
"At half ten?" Peter asked, one eyebrow raised as he held back a laugh
"No," Gilderoy said sheepishly, jumping on the first idea he could think of, "I was wondering if I could write an article or maybe a poem for the Herald, I want to be an author when I leave school" Not a complete lie, Gilderoy did know how to write.
"Sure," Peter nodded slightly, "Come back tomorrow yeah? Just bring it with you and if it's any good I'll put it in" Gilderoy wasn't sure if it was a dismissal but he got up just in case, giving Peter an awkward pat on the shoulder as he began to head out.
"Tomorrow, it'll be ready," He said as he backed out of the room, giving a small salute and grinning as he saw Peter's smile.
He was still banging his head against the desk when the sun began to rise. His face was smudged with ink from the quill he'd snapped in half a few hours into the night. Despite his best efforts he still lacked anything worthy of being published, he could always not go back but that would ruin his chances of starting a friendship with Peter and eventually the rest of the year. Glancing over at his roommate, Barty Crouch, who had conveniently slept through his breakdowns he noticed a note crumpled up on his bedside table. He didn't bother to quiet his steps as he wandered over, pulling it out from underneath a book, a love letter from a first year and his new masterpiece.