You found that Hogwarts tended to be at its most illustrious and sublime at night. So, that's why you always went for strolls at that time. A perambulation, so to speak. You'd venture on these walks after dark as much as you could, as an opportunity to seek solace and solitude.

You’d wander anywhere from the Astronomy Tower to the Library, wherever your heart desired. You never encountered anyone, only the odd ghost or a House Elf, but that was a rarity in itself. Until tonight.

Sauntering your way through the many corridors and courtyards, passing paintings and whatnot, you find yourself outside of the Great Hall, the monumental wooden doors beckoning you inside.

As you're about to push them ajar, your ears catch the subdued sound of what sounded like a mutter. But the resonation was so quiet, it could be perceived as a figment of the imagination.

Continuing on your way into the Great Hall, you brush it off. Probably just the ghosts gossiping among themselves.

You take in the view of the timbre tables, each embroidered with the colours of one of the four Hogwarts houses. You then inhale, expecting the smell of crackling firewood to reach your senses, but instead you’re met with another aroma.

Cigarette smoke.

Then footsteps, the redolence of cigarettes and a quiet yet profound voice.

“Hello, beautiful.”

You take a 180, and are met with… Theodore Nott. The introverted, sarcastic Slytherin with a cigarette dangling from his lips. His steely blue hues trail up and down your body, but not in a creepy manner. It’s more… appreciative. But they linger on your face more than anywhere else. His face is stoic, aside from the tiny twitch of his lips, indicating a subtle albeit bashful smile.