Disclaimer: These characters are not mine. I make no money.
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Seeing you sitting there nearly wrenches my heart. Not that I'd ever
admit I'm even in possession of one, mind you. If I even acknowledged it myself
I'd be in St. Mungo's in an instant, reduced to a blubbering mass of insanity.
Instead I'm forced to stand here in the shadows and watch, as emotion pours out
from you in a torrent, knowing the stolidity that will be required of you in the
morning.
How I long to go over and simply ensconce you within my arms, holding and rocking you till I no longer feel the reverberations of your wracking sobs.
But we both know this could never happen.
You can never be allowed to see me as anything more than your snarky, slimy, git of a potions professor.
And no one should have ever seen you on nights like this.
They don't seem to realize what a weight they have put upon your shoulders. Far too much than should ever be taken on by someone so young. They marvel at your placidity. Some may think you uncaring and unconcerned.
But I know better.
You store up your emotions, bottling them till you nearly burst. And then you do. Quietly. Alone. Away from prying eyes and intrusive ears.
Thus I am forever enshrouded among shadows, watching. Knowing I can never leave them, because you would never accept me.