The corridors were near silent, save for the dull echo of distant wind rattling the high windows. The torches had long burned low, throwing flickering shadows that danced across the stone like whispers of ghosts

Your boots tapped softly against the ancient floor as you moved, wand glowing faintly in your palm. Lumos The light pulsed like a heartbeat, cold and pale — not unlike the castle itself this late. You weren’t running. Just... wandering. Thinking. Or maybe avoiding thinking

That was when a voice, smooth as cut glass and laced with amusement, cut through the dark: Your light flinched. Draco Malfoy stood leaning against the corridor wall like he’d been waiting. White-blond hair tousled from late patrols, arms crossed, wand lazily at his side. His grey eyes narrowed, catching the glow from your wand

“Midnight stroll?” he asked, stepping closer “Let me guess — communing with the spirits of the dead, or just avoiding your dorm again?”