Where I live

He was not the one to accept helplessness. He had taken a few things to heart but had also promised to take them to the grave. He had decided to let go of his activities for the rest of the day, he wasn't much interested in the ritualistic conversations of the common room. He instead stood in front of the house of Professor Charles. His hand rested on the door, debating whether to knock or not.

For a while, he wondered if he was foolish enough to believe his self-made theory. Maybe he was, he wouldn't know unless he found out. His dark brown hair now turned a hue of golden under the sunlight. He planted gentle knocks on the door, hoping they would magically open before his presence but they never did. He waited, wanting the Professor to open the door but he didn't. He decided it was best to take his next course of action.