He watched her from across the courtyard

He watched her from across the courtyard.

He saw the corners of her mouth twitch as she tried to suppress a grin, and he saw as she tilted her head backwards and laughed, and he saw her eyes light up.

He watched her from across the courtyard, his expression completely blank, his blond hair falling across his face, casting it into shadow.

O

Hermione could feel it again. It was silly really- there wasn't even much to feel, just a little shiver down her spine every now and then, or a sudden outbreak of goose bumps in front of a roaring fire.

Just an inkling.

She never voiced her thoughts to anyone, because it would be like trying to describe the taste of water; because she knew nobody could ever feel what she felt every time she turned a corner; because there wasn't anything to tell.

She knew this.

She knew it was just an inkling.

O

He was in his place, as was she.

He looked at her from out of the corner of his eye, watching her bite her lip in worry as she bent over a piece of parchment.

The light she was using penetrated the darkness of the library only so far, and where it stopped, he started. His presence was suffocating the light, pressing down on the glow and forcing it inwards.

He was close.

O

She slipped into her pyjamas and crawled under her duvet.

She shivered.

Which was odd, because she'd just cast a Warming Charm over herself and there was a blazing fire in the grate.

Her eyes swept the corners of the room where the light did not reach. Just an inkling.

O

She walked into the Great Hall and he counted the twenty-seven paces it took her to reach her place.

He counted three seconds as she analysed the food in front of her and reached out to help herself to some.

He watched as she separated her foods and ordered them in relation to colour and then again by the first letter of their names.

She ate and left, the same as she did every day, chewing everything six times before swallowing.

So close.

O

It was worse than usual.

It was after curfew, and the lights were dimming, gradually fading to near darkness.

There it was again.

The hairs on the back of her neck stood up and she chafed herself all over in the hope of spreading some warmth through her body.

Just an inkling.

Just an inkling.

Nothing to feel, nothing to feel, nothing to feel.

Just an inkling.

O

Finally.

No more closeness.

This was it.

He was the presence.

He was the darkness.

He was the inkling.

O

Just an inkling.

Nothing to feel.

Just and inkling…