Very old piece, maybe 5 years or so. I found it in an old school agenda of mine. Could you guess I didn't actually use it for keeping track of school work?
It was dark and cold, so very, very cold. No warmth existed here; they made sure of that. It was a place designed to cultivate despair and madness. It would be only too easy to simply give in. Green eyes stopped him. An innocent gaze from a young cherubic face. Young eyes shone brightly unknowing of the world's worries. They'd need him later though. He couldn't tend him now. He had nothing to offer that would not be given by others freely. He couldn't teach of the world when he himself would be bound to hiding. No. Not to teach or to tend but to tell. Oh, of course others would tell him of what they did and how great they were. Who though, would tell him of who they were? The little things that made them the people he knew and cared for. The things that made them argue. The things that made them smile and laugh. All their quirks. The unique idiosyncrasies that made them, themselves. Yes, he would be needed. His friends deserved to be known by their son. Until that time came though when the boy was grown and he would be needed he'd bide his time and hold to sanity.
Random? Yes very much so… just a kind of curiosity piece, after all why did he wait so many years when Harry was supposed to be in his care?