It was Friday evening. Walton had spent most of it at Hogsmeade, returning to the castle with the last drove of students. He'd been out in the town, trying to make sure everybody was more or less behaved. He hadn't given out any detentions, so he supposed it was- all in all- a good evening. Walton was, however, definitely looking forward to the meeting with the prefects so he could figure out exactly what they did and get a better grasp of what the job of Head Boy entailed.

After making sure a few straggling third years found their way back to the common room before curfew, Walt finally climbed the stairs to the Gryffindor tower. He gave the Fat Lady the password, letting the portrait hole swing shut behind him.

He found a chair near the fire, and settled into it with a contented sigh. It felt good to sit down. Walt kicked off his shoes and held his socked feet up to the fire. The were frozen from the walk from Hogsmeade back to the castle. Just as he managed to get nice and comfortable by the fire, he spotted movement. Turning his head, Walton spotted Gabriella coming toward him. It wouldn't have been that big of a deal- he was used to her by now- but he spotted her quill and red notebook. That could only mean one thing. Official Hogwarts Howler business.

She'd said the day before she hadn't pinned him down for an interview yet... He supposed she must be doing it now. His gaze shifted. There was no way to get up from his seat, and to his dormitory without having to pass right by her. And ignoring her would be... rude. He was trapped. Cornered. It wasn't that he really minded giving the interview so much as... He was worried what kind of questions she would ask him. She wasn't known for being discrete or... well, respectful even.

Walt swallowed. "Hello," he said when she was close enough to hear. "Nice evening for a fire."

Friday evening should have meant relaxing after a tough week of work and irritating professors, spending time with friends and perhaps joining some students in Hogsmeade. For Gabriella this week it meant catching up on some overdue work that needed handing in on Monday and compiling information for the Hogwarts Howler edition. So while everyone else was off enjoying themselves elsewhere, Gabby was sat at a table in the common room furiously scribbling with the sharp end of her quill.

As she looked up from her work, Gabby’s dark gaze fell upon a familiar and now interesting figure. A smirk began to twist the young witch’s lips and she dived down into her schoolbag to grab the dreaded red notepad that had people cowering when they saw it. Perhaps that wasn’t the right reaction for people to have when they saw her with her Howler hat on but Gabby didn’t know how to change that. She was simply a bit full on when it came to Howler business. She took her position very seriously on the paper.

So to her feet she got, notepad and quill in her and Gabby walked towards her new victim/interviewee, leaving her stuff discarded at the table.

The headboy’s greeting caused Gabby to glance at the fire he must have lit before she shrugged and dropped down into the armchair next to his.
“It’s a nicer evening for an interview.” The wavy haired teenager responded plainly before flashing him a smile. “Fancy it?”

No, he didn't fancy an interview. But Walton didn't want to be rude to Gabriella. She was nice enough, and if he was head boy he was going to have to get used to the extra attention. Besides, the worst she would do is make a fool of him in print. The grand scheme of things, that was pretty trivial, wasn't it?

"Is it?" he asked. "I wouldn't consider a nice evening to be the time to interview someone. More the time to socialize, go out with your girlfriends, things like that," he gestured dismissively, wriggling his toes. But he had heard how she got when it came to the Howler. If he tries to weasel his way out of it now, he'd just have to deal with her later. Better to get it over with so they could move on, and she could find more interesting stories than Walton Dodd.

"But if you insist..." Walton shrugged, and waggled his eyebrows. "Do you worst, Dagon," he challenged, tossing her a smile as he adjusted his position to better pay her attention. Hopefully it would be a more or less painless process as she tried to extract information from him.