I listen as footsteps grow louder in the winding corridor. From my viewpoint, I can see the familiar oak door to his quarters. This isn't the first time I have stood in this spot, watching as students return to their dormitories after dinner as I wait for him to return. I have done this so many times I know his movements down to a second. In three minutes and time he will round the corner. In three minutes and fifteen seconds, he will approach the door. Twenty seven seconds after that, I will strain to catch one last glimpse of his form as he retires to his chambers for the night. Four minutes and five seconds from now, I will finally expel the breath I have held all this time and will crouch further into the shadow, where I will remain for another five minutes until I stop crying. I will pull myself together and check to see if the coast is clear.
Then, with the quietest of movements, I will get up and force myself to enter the world again. I will smile at Ron's jokes and chastise Harry for not doing his homework. I will half-heartedly join in a conversation with whoever I happen to be near, whilst also trying to avoid listening to the gossips in the corner. Once again, I will feel their eyes on me. The remainder of the evening will be spent curled up on the plush chair in front of the fire that Griffindor students have come to know as mine. Yet again I will have another ancient tome in my hands and people will choose not to disturb me as I seemingly become engrossed in its tale. My eyes will scan the words and my fingers will turn the pages, but my mind will be elsewhere, down once more on that same corridor. In my head I will not be crouched in the corner, but purposefully walking up to the sturdy oak door, knocking on the aged wood and awaiting his answer. In that life, I would have no time to count the seconds.
If I was ever to break from counting seconds and remaining on schedule, I would look back just before I ascend the stairs out of the dungeons. If I was ever to look around twenty one seconds from getting up from my hiding place, I would see a pair of sullen obsidian eyes in that same doorway stealing a forbidden look of my retreating form, following my every movement.
So, I was wondering how to cheer myself up on this rainy English day and suddenly thought of this delightfully little ray of sunshine. Thanks for reading (and hopefully reviewing). Iluma Knight.