Written for the Quidditch Leagues Fanfiction Competition Round 4 (Appleby Arrows, Chaser 2)

Emotion: Lonely (No word: Lonely)

Prompts Used: (POV) First Person, (word) Overwhelmed, (dialogue) "I've never felt this way before."


I was alone until I met him.

Everything about my life was solitary before I went to Hogwarts. I lived in the Scottish highlands, in a large, quiet house with my mother and father, but due to the remote location of which my family chose to live, there were no other children around for me to become friends with.

Instead, I found solace with my books, and let my mother teach me about magic prior to receiving my Hogwarts letter.


I was alone until I met her.

Even though the orphanage which I lived in was bustling with other children, both my age and around, none of them could live up to my standards. From an early age, I knew that I was different to the mundane people around me, and I had no desire to interact with them. I longed to meet people who were on my level, but I wasn't going to find them around this orphanage.

So when Albus Dumbledore turned up on the doorstep when I was eleven years old and told me all about Hogwarts, I was ecstatic to leave behind my childhood.


He tapped quietly on the window to my train compartment, and I blinked at his pale face through the glass. "Excuse me," he muttered, his dark eyes boring into me. "Is anyone sitting with you?"

I looked across at the empty seat opposite me. Several people had looked in at my compartment when they had passed with their friends, but no one had yet invited themselves in. Once again, I had stuck my nose into a book and tried not to feel hurt at my lack of a social interaction. This was the first person I had spoken to since saying goodbye to my parents at King's Cross Station, so I was a little overwhelmed. "Oh...no, no one's sitting here." I threw my book to the seat beside me and gestured within the compartment. "Please, come in."

He stepped inside, closing the door behind him quietly, and floated across the compartment and into the seat. As he looked out of the rain-speckled window, I took the time to take a good look at him. He was chalk white, with moody dark eyes and a down-turned mouth. I figured that he must have come from a poorer family, as he was wearing grubby grey trousers and a holey, threadbare jumper. His fingernails were long, and he was fidgeting with his thumbs absent-mindedly. When it didn't appear that he was going to introduce himself, I decided to take the reigns.

"I'm Minerva McGonagall," I greeted. "Nice to meet you." I threw my hand out politely, ready to shake his hand as I'd seen my father do with his business associates.

His eyes left the window and slowly travelled down to my hand, and then up to my face. My smile wavered as he cocked a dark eyebrow tentatively, and I began to pull back my outstretched hand. Before I could though, he grasped it and shook it lightly. "Tom Riddle," he replied. I inwardly sighed with relief.


"Gryffindor!" the Sorting Hat shouted once it was placed on Minerva's head. I watched from the Slytherin table as the girl I had befriended on the train grinned widely and scurried from the stool over to the table of cheering Gryffindors. A little while later, the Hat instantly sorted me into Slytherin.

Even though I had only known Minerva for a couple of hours, and hadn't spoken to her as much as she had spoken to me, I couldn't help but feel slightly disheartened that she wasn't going to be joining me in Slytherin. She was the only person that had spoken to me so far, and that meant something, as much as I didn't want to admit to it.

So instead I was forced to watch from afar as she tucked into her meal. Her long, black hair was streaming over her shoulders, and very occasionally, her glittering green eyes would meet mine across the great hall.


Three years later, somehow Tom and I still managed to maintain a friendship, despite being on opposing houses.

Time had been good to Tom. As he strolled over the courtyard to where I was sitting on a stone bench, I smiled at his looming appearance. He had grown tall in the last couple of years, and was finally several inches above me. His dark hair was long and hung in his face, which was becoming chiselled and defined as he aged. His eyes still held the essence of the melancholy child from the train, but there was an ominous glitter growing in them.

Unlike me, Tom made friends quite quickly. As he sauntered over the courtyard, he exchanged a quick few words with a few other Slytherins, and that wasn't it. I noticed several girls in the year below ours giggling and whispering to each other as he passed.

I had struggled to make friends since my first year in Hogwarts. The other girls in my house were nothing like me - I was too bookish for them, and they were convinced I should have been sorted into Gryffindor. I soon learned that I had nothing in common with them, and there was little to no point in trying to interact with them. Frequently I wondered why I had been so looking forward to coming to Hogwarts when I was eleven - I felt just as isolated amongst all these students as I had done in the desolated plane of land I lived on before.

On the other hand, I was learning that although I had little in common with Tom, we still somehow spent time together.

"Hello, Minerva," he greeted in his usual charming, sleek voice, and sat down on the bench beside me. I reached into my robes and presented him with a green apple, which I had saved from lunch in the Great Hall. "Thanks," he muttered, taking a bite into the fruit.

We sat in silence for a while, which is something we usually did. It only took a few days into our friendship for us to realise that we didn't need to talk too much to have a friendship. Sometimes we just didn't have anything to say. So, we sat there quietly, watching the other students loitering around the courtyard.

There was a sudden surge of laughter from the middle of the social area, and I noticed that a bespectacled second year boy from Hufflepuff was sobbing, trying to wipe the remains of a soggy pumpkin pastry from his glasses. I stood up, trying to get a better look. "Who did that?" I asked Tom, feeling anger bubble in my stomach.

To my annoyance, I noticed that Tom was sniggering too. "Avery," he murmured, nodding over to a stocky, mouse-haired Slytherin.

"Do you think it was funny?" I shot at Tom.

"Well, yeah," he replied, shrugging. "That Hufflepuff is a Mudblood."

I reacted instantly, well before my brain could. My hand shot out and slapped Tom in the cheek, leaving an angry red mark in its wake. Immediately I gasped and covered my mouth, shocked at what I had just done. "I'm sorry," I whispered, my eyes wide. Tom was blinking at me, both eyebrows raised. I couldn't work out the look on his face, so instead I turned around and ran back inside the castle.

However, I didn't see the small grin that was lingering on his face.


Minerva and I failed to maintain our friendship for many years after third year. It wasn't until our final year that I was partnered with her in Potions, and we were forced to work together.

We spent many hours in the library, most of which I devoted to sneaking into the Restricted Section to look up dark magic, but Minerva usually dragged me back.

However, despite trying to keep our relationship purely work based, it was difficult.

Minerva had blossomed into a beautiful young woman, with sleek ebony hair and large, emerald eyes. She was kind and smart, but I had learned that she had a cruel streak. It was that cruel streak that enticed me to her, especially after she had slapped me in our third year.

However, I had no plans for love in my future, so I had to cut her short when her hopes began to show.

"Tom," she whispered to me one evening in the library. Her cheeks were flushed red, and she was fidgeting with the sleeve of her robes. "I need to say something to you."

"Go on," I replied.

Her breath hitched in her throat. "I don't know how to say this to you," she continued. "I mean...I guess..." she took another breath, looking away. "I've never felt this way before."

"I'm sorry, Minerva," I responded, before she could embarrass herself further. "I know what you're going to say."

She blinked up at me, her green eyes wavering. "You do?"

"I'm sorry," I apologised. "There just isn't room for you in my future."

It was almost indefinite that I was going to leave Hogwarts and lead a reclusive live, but being alone was just the way it needed to be.