Disclaimer: I don't own HARRY POTTER, that belongs to JK Rowling. No copyright infringement intended.
I'd really appreciate it if you'd review...tell me what you think of the story. Enjoy!
One thing you should know about me is that I don't have many friends. I'm not popular at all. I don't know why, but it's just the way I've always known life. It's not that
I'm depressed, or anything. I can't miss something I never had. For me, logic has always been my best friend. Logic and my brain have been my companions through all
the troubles I've had. And they've been good to me.
Hogwarts is amazing. Even though there are a million cruel students in this castle I call home, there are also a million places to hide from them. Now you understand how I
work, don't you? I'm serious. I don't joke. And I definitely don't trust my heart.
Transfiguration is my favorite class. Despite the fact that it's with Slytherin students and that half of the people in that classroom hate me due to the never ending praise
the Professor gives me, I enjoy it greatly. Anyways. On with the story.
On that faithful day, during that one Transfiguration class, is the day Tom Riddle first approached me. Tom Riddle is someone that I consider to be a dog. He has the looks,
the brains, the popularity, and the female companions. If you asked me what I thought was the closest thing to perfect, I'd probably say Tom Riddle. Maurie Brown had
once told me that Tom Riddle had stolen the virginities of 4 girls when he was only in his fourth year at Hogwarts. I wouldn't believe these rumors if my brain didn't agree,
but unfortunately, logic rules out everything and I do think that he stole those things from the four girls.
The thing that shocked me the most from this encounter, was what he said to me. I had been working on transfiguring a stack of books into Cornish Pixies, which I then
froze with a freezing charm. Tom Riddle had snuck up so quietly that I didn't even know he was there until I looked up and saw his dark eyes boring into mine.
"Forgive me for saying this," He said, in that smooth voice that I had overheard so many times before, "but why are you in Gryffindor?"
"What do you mean? I don't understand." I replied. His slender fingers rested on my desk. I don't know why, but those fingers had always bothered me so much.
"I mean, you don't really seem like a Gryffindor. Not as talkative. Not as outgoing, and no offense; not as willing to put others in front of your own needs." Riddle said.
"Excuse me? How would you know that? If you're implying this from what you've observed without concrete evidence, then I'm sorry to say that you have no idea what
you're talking about." Riddle looked taken back. I guess most people don't have the guts to talk back to Riddle, but I don't have the social skills to know that.
"It's not an insult, McGonagall." That was all he said, before returning to his Slytherin friends—no, I wouldn't say friends—followers.
I thought this would just be a one-time encounter; except the next day, during lunch, while I was studying in the library, he came and approached me again.
"Good day, McGonagall?" He asked me, sliding his books onto the table while taking a seat. I looked up, and said nothing.
"What do you want, Riddle?" I asked. He gave me a little smile. A smile that gave me a bizarre feeling in my stomach that I'd never felt before. My brain told me that it was bad…but it felt good.
"Just a question about Transfiguration."
"Trust me, Riddle. I don't know anymore about it than you do. I've seen your marks. They're incredible." I said, with a hint of jealousy in my voice. Even though I
exceeded Transfiguration greatly, Riddle managed to best me every time.
"No, I think I need your opinion for this." He said firmly.
So I agreed to help him. Riddle would come and join me every couple days, then every few days, and then it became so often that I would make sure to save a seat for
him when I went into the library for lunch every day. My heart wondered if I had made a friend. My brain told me no.
But I went with my heart, for the first time.