Disclaimer: I do not own Luna Lovegood or anything else belonging to JK
Rowling. This is simply fanfiction and only the storyline is mine. I am not
receiving any profit from this.
---
Whispers
I quietly descend the staircase leading out of my dormitory and into the common room. It's very full, and all eyes are on me. I reach the tapestry covering the large hole in the wall and push it open, sliding out into the hall.
I walk through the corridor, looking straight ahead, instead of glancing blankly at the portraits whispering alongside me, like usual. Halfway into the hall, I stop, still facing forwards, in front of a large portrait of an old man in an armchair. I can hear five or six others who have left their own paintings to join his. They're all whispering amongst themselves, though rather indiscreetly. I quickly shift my eyes toward the golden, elaborate frame, but the whispering is barely hushed, even in my presence.
I begin to walk again and finally I turn the corner, reaching the main staircases. As I wait for a set of stairs to reach the platform I stand on, I stare ahead, not blinking even once.
I take the stairs to the hallway above the main floor. I really like that hallway.
I pass the classroom doors, not looking inside them curiously as I do. At the end of the corridor, I reach a wall before a turn, which leads to more classes, and I stop once more. The wall looks just as old and grey as all the others, and the stone bricks are very cold; I come here often, just to check. There is a noticeboard and a single flamed torch on this wall. The board is full of messily scribbled notes from students and neatly handwritten, official-looking ones from professors. Advertisements for old spellbooks that students don't want anymore; offerings of extra-help sessions after class; anonymous tips for finding secret passages out of the school that the teachers haven't seen yet. I think it's almost rude, that everyone covers up all the other signs. Everyone has so much to say, and it's all being ignored.
I step towards the noticeboard and begin taking down the notes. I take out the different coloured tacks, and let the bits of parchment fall to the ground. The plastic handles of the pushpins make little noises as they hit the hard stone, but I don't notice. I'm careful not to rip the notes as I continue to take them down and drop them.
After I'm finished, I take a step back and have a look.
I walk down the stairs leading out of the main staircase and into the Great Hall. It's very full, and all eyes are on me. I reach the long, wooden tables and slide into a bench. I look straight ahead, instead of glancing blankly at the other students whispering about me, like usual. I can tell that five or six other students have left their normal seats to join this table. They're all whispering amongst themselves, though rather indiscreetly. I quickly shift my eyes toward the other students at the table, but the whispering isn't at all hushed, even in my company. I begin to actually notice the feast before me, and I finally fill my plate and start to eat. As I wait for Dumbledore to address the end-of-year announcements and farewells, I stare straight ahead, not blinking even once.
I wonder if someone will see the noticeboard before tomorrow.
All those signs were covering the ones I put up, and I'd really like my things back.
---
Whispers
I quietly descend the staircase leading out of my dormitory and into the common room. It's very full, and all eyes are on me. I reach the tapestry covering the large hole in the wall and push it open, sliding out into the hall.
I walk through the corridor, looking straight ahead, instead of glancing blankly at the portraits whispering alongside me, like usual. Halfway into the hall, I stop, still facing forwards, in front of a large portrait of an old man in an armchair. I can hear five or six others who have left their own paintings to join his. They're all whispering amongst themselves, though rather indiscreetly. I quickly shift my eyes toward the golden, elaborate frame, but the whispering is barely hushed, even in my presence.
I begin to walk again and finally I turn the corner, reaching the main staircases. As I wait for a set of stairs to reach the platform I stand on, I stare ahead, not blinking even once.
I take the stairs to the hallway above the main floor. I really like that hallway.
I pass the classroom doors, not looking inside them curiously as I do. At the end of the corridor, I reach a wall before a turn, which leads to more classes, and I stop once more. The wall looks just as old and grey as all the others, and the stone bricks are very cold; I come here often, just to check. There is a noticeboard and a single flamed torch on this wall. The board is full of messily scribbled notes from students and neatly handwritten, official-looking ones from professors. Advertisements for old spellbooks that students don't want anymore; offerings of extra-help sessions after class; anonymous tips for finding secret passages out of the school that the teachers haven't seen yet. I think it's almost rude, that everyone covers up all the other signs. Everyone has so much to say, and it's all being ignored.
I step towards the noticeboard and begin taking down the notes. I take out the different coloured tacks, and let the bits of parchment fall to the ground. The plastic handles of the pushpins make little noises as they hit the hard stone, but I don't notice. I'm careful not to rip the notes as I continue to take them down and drop them.
After I'm finished, I take a step back and have a look.
I walk down the stairs leading out of the main staircase and into the Great Hall. It's very full, and all eyes are on me. I reach the long, wooden tables and slide into a bench. I look straight ahead, instead of glancing blankly at the other students whispering about me, like usual. I can tell that five or six other students have left their normal seats to join this table. They're all whispering amongst themselves, though rather indiscreetly. I quickly shift my eyes toward the other students at the table, but the whispering isn't at all hushed, even in my company. I begin to actually notice the feast before me, and I finally fill my plate and start to eat. As I wait for Dumbledore to address the end-of-year announcements and farewells, I stare straight ahead, not blinking even once.
I wonder if someone will see the noticeboard before tomorrow.
All those signs were covering the ones I put up, and I'd really like my things back.