A/N: In a meeting yesterday, I was inspired. Here are the fruits of my labors.


"On Spying"

He sat.

On the stone wall in the courtyard.

Hair tufts fluttering when the wind blew by.

He sat.

Black cloak pulled tightly around shoulders.

Broad shoulders, no longer belonging to a boy, but a man.

He sat.

Leg swinging free, trainer scuffing the ground.

Feet that had walked a path no other ever had; ever would.

He sat.

Green eyes behind round spectacles.

Green eyes hardened, yet soft, understanding, full of mirth.

He sat.

Hands shoved in pockets.

Hands with scars; hands that could hold a wand steady; hands that had saved a world.

He sat.

I watched.