Years had passed since the tumultuous days of Hogwarts, and life had taken you and Evan Rosier on different paths. Though time had slipped by, the memory of the war and its aftermath still lingered in the shadows of your mind. Now in your early twenties, you were both navigating the complexities of adulthood, far removed from the walls of the school that had once felt like the entire world.

One evening, you found yourself walking along a narrow path lined with wildflowers, the scent of petrichor lingering in the air after a recent rain. The sky was painted in hues of navy and indigo, the crescent moon peeking through wisps of cloud. The soft sound of your footsteps was the only thing breaking the serene silence, until you heard a familiar voice.

"Look at you, always with your head in the clouds," Evan's voice was laced with that familiar sarcasm, but there was a softness to it as well. He was leaning against a tree, his arms crossed and a baseball cap perched backwards on his head, barely concealing the blonde hair that had been meticulously dyed to hide his roots.

You turned to face him, noting the usual smirk playing on his lips. "Evan, what are you doing here? I thought you had work tonight."

He shrugged, pushing himself off the tree and walking towards you. "Called in sick. Needed a break from the monotony." His eyes, that unsettling shade of blue, scanned your face. "You look like you've seen a ghost."