Tom Felton
I imagine his house to be in a quiet part of Surrey, where hardly anyone knows he lives. Across the street form him is a park, large, pretty, and peaceful. Then there is a bench, directly in front of his house, by a bus stop. This is what I imagine would happen if I magically found out where tom Felton lived.
I sat outside on the bench, watching the house. I hoped they wouldn't think I was a stalker, even if my behavior made it seem like it. I was sort of melting into a daydream, when the door opened. He walked outside. He walked out onto his front lawn, observing the park. I stared, opened-mouthed, then shut it, hoping he hadn't noticed me staring with my mouth agape. As he turned his head he caught site of me, and my heart beat in a frenzy. He looked at me oddly, his expression saying, 'Can I help you?' He raised one eyebrow at me. My eyes went black, and I fell sideways onto the bench.