2; 12:01 a.m.
If you're awake as early as this, you're usually either up to something incredibly devious or something incredibly stupid. To Ginny, sometimes there isn't much difference between the two. Wandering the halls in search of so-called adventure at just-past-midnight is devious at its best and stupid at its worst – makes you feel rebellious, but if you get caught, you're dead. Filch is unforgiving at these hours, and Ginny doesn't trust him, not one bit. But she's never seen much point in sleeping (doesn't seem to do her much good, anyway), and so she walks.
In front of her, Ginny spots the figure of a fellow insomniac.
"Malfoy?" she whispers curiously, carefully. If it's really Filch and not Malfoy…
But, "What?" he whispers back, turning on his heel. "Weasley? What're you doing up?"
"Nothing, unfortunately," she replies, rolling her eyes. "Not very exciting around here this late, huh?"
"It is," he returns slyly, "if you know where to look."
"And where would that be?" she questions, catching on.
Any further queries from her are then temporarily silenced.
Supervision, after all, is hard to come by at an hour such as this.