This Place
I walk the halls of this place, it's dark and musty smelling in this place.
I look around, I feel eyes on me, those heads of house elves in this place.
I drift down the stairs, feeling lonely and sad, there seems to be no life, in this place.
I float as I stare at those who don't belong, those who are not a part of this place.
I begin to wail, moan and scream only to be hushed this use to be my place.
Muggle born, half bloods, a traitor of a son sit at that table in what used to be my place.
I'm hopeless and lost but reassured that all is ok in my place.
For at least one faithful soul still lives in this place.
A loyal house elf is always welcome in this place, my place.