She's there, standing in the corner again, in the light by the window, long auburn hair, eternal legs, generous smile she's trying to hold onto whilst some first year is pestering her with endless questions. She's my age but doesn't look it. She's far too mature and she's in a white dress that ends just above her knees- hasn't anyone told her you're not supposed to wear short sleeveless dresses in the middle of winter? She glances over and sees me watching her. She touches a finger to her lip as a silent gesture to me and disappears, startling the first year. Next thing, she appears as silently as she disappeared, next to me. Her glares menacingly at me
"Tom why do you sit and sulk here instead of joining all of us in the celebrations? This is a huge achievement for me. I won us the cup. So why wont you celebrate like the rest of the house is?"
Before I have time to tell her that I think quidditch is a waste of time, a group of 6th years surrounded her, praising her on her outstanding performance of playing seeker against the ever-annoying Gryffindor seeker, Sirius Black. Glancing at the clock next to the fireplace, I decide to take my leave and head for my dormitory. We have our end of year exams tomorrow and just because we won the quidditch cup doesn't mean our teachers will excuse us from the tests.

........

I was so close to starting my first real conversation with him when another "fan" group surrounded me, pestering me with questions about how did I really manage to snatch the precious golden snitch out of the fingers of Sirius Black. So I spent another ten minutes explaining every single little detail of the game and how I got the better of Sirius then walked away from the group back to the corner where Tom always sulked around, only to find him missing. Damn it! We had gone to this school together for 7 years, been in nearly all our classes were together but still never more than a hello passed between us and this year I was determined to have at least one proper conversation this year. He was a very quiet person, kept to himself. But that didn't mean he wasn't attractive. Tom Riddle was on of the most sought after boys in the castle along with James Potter and Sirius Black. Not that any of us girls had a chance with Tom, seeing as he literally ran in the opposite direction if one of us tried to talk to him. He had this charm about him. If he put his mind to it he could make anyone tell him or give him anything he wanted, even the teachers. And his eyes! The were sometimes a delicious chocolate brown that you could practically melt into when you made contact with, and at other times they were a ominous black that made you fear for your life.

How was I supposed to get closer to him? I'm not denying the fact that I have a tiny crush on him. Well tiny is an understatement. But even before I discovered the way I felt about him, I still wanted to at least be considered his friend. But how could I do that. No one but his close-knit friends ever talked to him. How was I supposed to know what interests he has? All I think I know about him is that he doesn't like quidditch because he never turns up to any of the matches. Not that I've been looking out for him in the stands or anything.

I realised that the common room had become startlingly quiet. I looked around. Most people had gone up to their dorms. The only ones who were left were the ones who were so wasted they couldn't even say their own names. That's when I remembered the exams were the next morning. The last exams we'll ever have here.

...........

I glanced at my watch for the 20th time, wondering when sleep would come. Every time I closed my eyes all I pictured was her hair blowing in the breeze. What is wrong with me? I had left the party five hours ago to sleep in order to be ready for the tests not that I need to bother I will pass them easily, but for the past five hours all I've done is picture her and not sleep. This is so frustrating! I can't take this; I have to do something to take my mind off her.

I close the heavy dorm door behind me and start to descend the stairs. I entered the trashed common room to find the occasional couple asleep next to each other on the marble ground. Suddenly a feeling hit me, wait no a longing. What would it be like to sleep next to Daphne? Why do I care? Tom Riddle doesn't care for others let alone weak mug bloods that manage to worm their way into Slytherin house. I bang my head a couple of times against the cold marble walls to clear it. I must have had something with a potion or spell in it yesterday. I should go down and demand Madam Pomfrey examines me.

4 hours later we're lining up in foul weather outside the great hall preparing for our written exams. This is pathetic. How dare they make me wait. Ahead of me Malfoy and Snape are in a heated argument about potions I think. Malfoy's an idiot. He knows better to get into an argument about potions with Snape. The line ahead is starting to move sluggishly into the hall. When I get to the front I'm shown to my seat, which is next to one of the seven fireplaces lining the east wall. Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff members occupied most of the seats surrounding mine so I'm guessing we weren't starting until Gryffindor decided to show up. After a while the aroma of chocolate came upon me from behind. I turned and there was Daphne the source of the smell. She smiled at me and lent forward, making out that she wanted to say something. As soon as I lent back I received a blow on my head from above.

"Tom Riddle sit back where you are supposed to. You know that cheating in these tests is unacceptable. If I find that your answers are in any way similar to Miss Meriwether there will be serious consequences!"

"Sorry Profes…"

"What did I say about talking Mr. Riddle?"

So I turned in my seat rubbing my head feeling a particularly foul mood coming on. No sleep, banging my head against the wall had created a painful bruise on my forehead, Madam Pomfrey refused to see me for a bruise, I'm still obsessing over Daphne and now I might be accused of cheating on my exams. I'll be glad to leave this hole; it's stupid rules and the infuriating people.