Rolanda Hooch was tired. She was old and weary, and wanted nothing more than to settle down with her husband and enjoy retirement.

There was just one small problem with that: She had no husband.

While dedicating her life to the sport she loved had seemed a good idea as a young witch, after a while she'd realised that there was no hope of ever finding love if she was to be stuck on the Hogwarts grounds for her whole life.

Still, Quidditch had been a worthy obsession to pass the time with until she did decide to search for The One, she had always told herself.

However, as years passed by in the blink of an eye, Rolanda found herself aging rapidly, not at all bothered enough to leave her comfortable, safe job at the school and venture out into the world.

So she put it off as long as possible.

Which was why, decades later, she found herself still employed at Hogwarts, and still single.

She would never have a wedding, or a lover, or kids. She would never wake up every day next to the same man, or experience all of the wonderful 'Firsts' of childhood. While those thoughts sometimes upset her, she had, for the most part, made her peace with the fact that her life had gone in a different direction to most women's.

Being alone is better than being with the wrong person, she reasoned with herself.

But sometimes it took a lot of convincing to make her feel happy about her life again.

She liked imparting wisdom on the young students, who looked at her with awe and fascination in their youthful eyes.

She liked the way her fingers ached after hours of training and practicing.

She liked her life. She did.

Yes, she sometimes felt empty and unsatisfied, but who didn't every now and again? It was perfectly natural; a normal part of life.

And yes, maybe she sometimes desperately wished she had taken the job at Quality Quidditch Supplies rather than the one as Quidditch Referee and First Year Flight Instructor, but who didn't regret things sometimes? It was a common thing; everybody did it.

But ultimately, she was happy where she was now. She inspired new, young minds every day – while she wasn't playing and coaching her favourite sport, that was. So many people would kill to have a job revolving around a hobby they loved, and she shouldn't take it for granted.

During the first few years she worked at Hogwarts, Rolanda had had her fingers crossed that a rich, perfect man would join the teaching staff and they would fall madly in love, getting married on the Hogwarts grounds and raising their children in the castle.

However, as she grew older, she dismissed the idea as a foolish, childish fantasy. An idle daydream.

Whilst she eventually contented herself with her lessons and friends, it seemed that many members of staff were still under the impression that she was in want of a lover. Due to this, Rolanda Hooch one afternoon found herself being pursued down the hallway by none other than her co-worker, Horace Slughorn.

"Rolanda!" Slughorn called from down the corridor, walking briskly towards her and panting slightly from the exertion, his belly wobbling underneath his smart, green waistcoat. "Rolanda, might I have a word with you?" he asked once he reached the woman in question, who had stopped and turned to meet him.

"Of course, Horace." Rolanda smiled vaguely at him, her thoughts down on the Quidditch pitch, where she would be supervising the Hufflepuff team practice in just over half an hour.

The Slytherin Head of House had suddenly turned rather red, and he stuttered and mumbled as he said to her, "Well, I've been thinking a lot, recently, about how lonely I am here, at Hogwarts… And I'm sure you must be lonely too… I mean, you're not lonely, of course! No, you have many friends, I am sure… But what I mean is, well, I get the feeling that your love life may be, for want of a better word, lacking slightly. So, without further ado, I would like to, well, suggest that I take you out on a date. To Hogsmeade. This weekend. What do you say?"

Rolanda was quite taken aback by this, to put it lightly. For whilst it was true that she had been wishing for romance, she had no idea that this was evident to her colleagues!

Besides, she had already moved on from that and accepted that she would have to make do with just her friends. In fact, she was almost looking forward to a blissfully simple life, uncomplicated by romantic affairs and drama.

Even if she hadn't dismissed the idea, though, Horace Slughorn was the last person she would have thought about dating!

"Horace, I…" She ran a hand through her short, grey hair, flustered and unprepared and also slightly regretful that she had to do this. "I'm flattered by the offer, but I'm afraid I'm just not looking for romance in my life. Not now and not, I would imagine, for a long while yet, if at all. It is a very sweet offer, and I admire you greatly, but I don't want to get involved in anything like that, so I regret to say that I must decline the offer."

Having had no experience of rebutting people previously, Hooch wanted to make sure she explained her reasons thoroughly. Was I too harsh, she thought afterwards, already wishing she could go back and change what she'd said.

Meanwhile, a tiny part of her was wishing she had accepted. Who was she to turn down love when she had already realised how unlikely it would be for her to ever find anyone?

"I understand," Slughorn said humbly. "Another time, then, perhaps." He tipped his hat to Rolanda before walking back the way he had come, his head held high but his shoulders hunched.

"Rolanda, you look lovely!"

It was the first Quidditch match of the school year and Horace Slughorn had come up to Rolanda Hooch to greet her whilst the players were getting changed.

Rolanda frowned at him, but it was replaced by a smile as quickly as it had come. "Why, thank you, Horace," she said kindly, though trying to show as little friendliness as possible. It had been just under two weeks since she had rejected him, and this was just one of many times he had gone out of his way to talk to her since.

"I must admit, Rolanda, my motives for coming over here were not all about Quidditch," he told her, smiling slyly.

Rolanda resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Was he about to ask her out again?

"There are to be festivities at the Three Broomsticks tonight - to celebrate the birthday of one of the staff members, I believe – and I would be honoured if you would accompany me to it," he said politely.

Sighing heavily, Rolanda placed a tentative, comforting hand on his arm. "Horace, I'm sorry, but nothing has changed since you last asked me. I am still not interested in dating, so I am terribly sorry, but I must turn you down again."

When Slughorn opened his mouth to argue his case further, Rolanda turned and ushered him towards the stands. "Please, Horace," she said, in a sharp and business-like manner, "the match is about to begin. I must insist that you either return to the castle or take a seat."

Slughorn nodded once, resignedly, before turning to walk back to the castle. Rolanda felt a pang of regret at the sight of his retreating figure, but she pushed the feeling away. She had a game to referee.

It was two months later, and Rolanda Hooch had lost her patience. After the unsuccessful Quidditch match request, he had asked her out again on no less than six separate occasions, and Rolanda's patience was wearing thin.

So really, she should have realised she was about to snap.

When she was accosted by Slughorn again – this time as she was leaving the Great Hall after lunch – she finally decided to put an end to it.

"No, Horace, I will not go with you to Hogsmeade!" she barked at him, before he had even opened his mouth.

He sighed sadly. "Not even for just one drink?" he asked, but the offer had lost all of its conviction.

"No, not even for just one drink. Honestly, Horace, this is getting ridiculous! I have told you, time and time again, that I am not interested. What is it going to take for you to realise that this isn't going to change?"

Slughorn bit his lip. "If at first you don't succeed, try, try, and try again," he said, shrugging. "That's what my mother used to tell me."

"Yes, well, there is a point at which that becomes ridiculous," she retorted impatiently. "If at first you don't succeed, try, try again. Then quit. There's no point being a damn fool about it, Horace, and you would do well to realise that soon."

She pushed past him and walked out through the doors before turning back to look at him over her shoulder. He looked as if he was finally, finally, about to give up. "I'm sorry, Horace," she told him, "but it's never going to happen."

Rolanda turned and walked away, and it was silent for a moment before Slughorn spoke again. "This was the last time, Rolanda," he said sadly. "I promise."

Here she was now, decades later, and Slughorn had stayed true to his word. Not once had he attempted to court her since, and not once had either of them looked back on it.

Did she sometimes regret never trying to find the one? Perhaps. However, if the only person the world had to offer was Horace Slughorn, she thought with a smile, maybe she had still got the better end of the deal.

A/N: No offence to Slughorn, I'm sure he's a stand-up guy really :')

Quidditch League Fanfiction Competition, Semi Finals

Team: Holyhead Harpies

Position: Beater 1

Task: Write a 'Slice of Life' about Madam Hooch

Prompts Used:

(quote) 'Being alone is better than being with the wrong person.' - L, Death Note

(word) obsession

(word) ache

(phrase) 'Fingers crossed'

(quote) "If at first you don't succeed, try, try again. Then quit. There's no point being a damn fool about it.' - W.C. Fields

Word Count: 1,672