Ravenclaw Sixth Year Girls' Dormitory
*enters the room, pleased to see that it's empty, and gazes out the window for a moment*
That tower behind the entrance hall, the one with only the point visible . . . that's Hufflepuff, I think. Wonder if he's there yet?
*sighs softly and sits down on her bed, pulling her diary out from beneath her mattress*
*starts writing*
Tonight I spoke to Ernie Macmillan. Really spoke to him. I was terrified at first, and of course my heart was beating fast the entire time, but . . . somehow, in another way, I felt calm and safe with him. Sort of like . . . when a storm is pounding on the windows, but you know you're safe in the castle, and no matter how scary-sounding it is, there's no way a bit of water and wind will get past that solid rock.
*smiles to herself*
I sat next to him most of the night, watching him play chess against Justin Finch-Fletchley. He did wonderfully, and he has these lovely hands . . . I wondered all night if they were warm or cool, but I never found out.
We're going to play chess together sometime. He'll regret it when he finds out how bad I am at it. I don't have a mind for strategy . . . Hopefully he'll find the company pleasant enough to overlook my lack of skill. I know I'll enjoy it, even if a piece never gets moved. Maybe especially if a piece never gets moved.
I hated watching him go, though I don't know what else I expected. It's not like I could ask him up or something . . . Besides, we were just introduced. He'd think I was mad for sure if he knew I fancy him already.
*frowns and twirls a bit of her long hair around her finger before adding the rest*
I don't know what he thought of me, and I don't know if I was too obvious, or not obvious enough. I do know that he was kind, a patient listener, and if I'm not just imagining things . . . didn't seem any more eager to leave than I was to let him go.
*puts away her quill and diary when she hears the door open*
That tower behind the entrance hall, the one with only the point visible . . . that's Hufflepuff, I think. Wonder if he's there yet?
*sighs softly and sits down on her bed, pulling her diary out from beneath her mattress*
*starts writing*
Tonight I spoke to Ernie Macmillan. Really spoke to him. I was terrified at first, and of course my heart was beating fast the entire time, but . . . somehow, in another way, I felt calm and safe with him. Sort of like . . . when a storm is pounding on the windows, but you know you're safe in the castle, and no matter how scary-sounding it is, there's no way a bit of water and wind will get past that solid rock.
*smiles to herself*
I sat next to him most of the night, watching him play chess against Justin Finch-Fletchley. He did wonderfully, and he has these lovely hands . . . I wondered all night if they were warm or cool, but I never found out.
We're going to play chess together sometime. He'll regret it when he finds out how bad I am at it. I don't have a mind for strategy . . . Hopefully he'll find the company pleasant enough to overlook my lack of skill. I know I'll enjoy it, even if a piece never gets moved. Maybe especially if a piece never gets moved.
I hated watching him go, though I don't know what else I expected. It's not like I could ask him up or something . . . Besides, we were just introduced. He'd think I was mad for sure if he knew I fancy him already.
*frowns and twirls a bit of her long hair around her finger before adding the rest*
I don't know what he thought of me, and I don't know if I was too obvious, or not obvious enough. I do know that he was kind, a patient listener, and if I'm not just imagining things . . . didn't seem any more eager to leave than I was to let him go.
*puts away her quill and diary when she hears the door open*