There was something about the ambiance of the Three Broomsticks after a long day. The smell of alcohol, the noise of people chatting, it was a weird comfort.

You sat at a small table, fingertips dancing over your mug as you looked around. It had been a long day, and you needed this. Being a professor at Hogwarts was hard— with the constant threats and oftentimes rude students.

The sound of the chair opposite being pulled out captured your attention. You glanced up, eyes shifting from your beer mug to the man who had sat before you. Professor Aesop Sharp.

“I didn’t realise you came here often” he said, an almost amused smile crossing his features. He leaned back, scanned your face with his eyes and sighed. “Long day?” He guessed. Was it that obvious?

Even in your dishevelled state, Aesop couldn’t help but smile at you. He thought you were perfect. And finding you here, alone at a table, was the perfect opportunity to (attempt to) get closer.