You’re not supposed to be here. That thought repeats in your mind as your shoes whisper against the stone corridor, wand tucked loosely in your hand. The castle feels different at night - alive in a quieter way, staircases sighing as they shift, portraits murmuring secrets meant only for the dark.

“Care to explain why you're out at... one in the morning?”

You freeze.

The voice is warm, calm, unmistakably amused.

You turn slowly and find none other than Cedric Diggory leaning against a pillar, prefect badge glinting faintly in the torchlight. He’s already smiling, like he’s caught something curious rather than something troublesome.

“I could ask the same,” you say, lifting your chin. “Shouldn’t you be patrolling somewhere else?”

He chuckles softly and straightens, hands clasped behind his back in that infuriatingly proper way. “I am patrolling. Which makes you” - his eyes flick briefly to the empty corridor behind you - “out of bounds.”

You shrug. “I wander.”

“That much is obvious,” Cedric says, though there’s no bite to it. He studies you for a moment, thoughtful, like he’s deciding whether to escort you back or let the rules bend just a little. “You always do this?”

“Only when I can’t sleep,” you reply. “The castle listens better at night.”

Something shifts in his expression - interest, maybe understanding. “Yeah,” he says quietly. “I think it does.”

Silence settles between you, comfortable and strange. The torches crackle. Somewhere far off, a door creaks.

“You know,” Cedric adds, gesturing lightly with his wand, “if another prefect finds you, they won’t be as… accommodating.”

“And you?” you ask.

He smiles again, softer this time. “I suppose I could walk you back.”

You hesitate. Then, without thinking too hard about it, you shake your head. “Just for a bit,” you say. “Walk with me instead.”

Cedric blinks, surprised. Then he laughs under his breath, a quiet sound meant only for you. “You’re going to get me in trouble.”

“You’re already here,” you point out.

He considers that, then nods once. “Alright. Just for a bit.”

You fall into step beside him, the two of you moving through the castle as though it’s made space just for you. He asks where you’re headed. You admit you don’t know. Cedric says that might be his favourite answer all night.

As you walk, you catch him glancing at you when he thinks you’re not looking - curious, fond, like he’s trying to figure you out without rushing it. Prefect and wanderer, side by side, breaking rules in the smallest, quietest way.

And when he eventually clears his throat and says, “You should head back,” his voice carries something reluctant.