A/N: My other response to SkyeElf's challenge. You might want to read that first, though, considering you won't have any idea who the hell Skye Night is.
My take on Skye before she met McGonagall.
Now, I don't know about in the rest of the world, but we wrote our first exams when we were 10/11, grade 4. Skye's about that age, so yeah.
Final Minutes.
The final minutes before an exams are always the hardest. Rows upon rows of data flashed before her eyes and oh-so-carefully arranged information are threatening to tumble down and become chaos. She swore that exams only existed to make children and teenagers stress. Her mind drifted back to that morning. Her bed was still littered with multi-colored notes and the ink stains are surely never to come off. She wondered what her mother would say. Oh, right, she didn't have one of those.
Never mind that. Focus!
She moaned inwardly. Where on earth would she ever need to know how Snodgrass saw the enemy or if he thought the war inhumane? Granted, the strategies he used could prove necessary in the future, but still. Where would she need Milton's words? Yes, he shows what good deeds are and he inspires with his intimate bond with God, regardless of his blindness, but would she ever need it in life? What about Mtshali? All right, his hero's military techniques would come in handy, of course, if she ever faced a war. And it would possible never happen.
The luncheon provided comic relief, in a sense, but it was, in her mind, useless. The serpent gave insight, of course. Never listen to the sweet voice of seduction, temptation… never be lulled into a false sense of security or happiness. That endearing voice that promises the world and everything beyond – but it comes at a price. A terrible price. It also taught her to face her fears head-on, something she still struggled with, being almost eleven. She knew that she can't avoid it forever.
Mitty… oh what a delightful character! He was, perhaps, her favorite. Another being like her, someone that could get lost in the vast worlds, yes – plural, they harbor in their minds. That world where you can be whatever you want… a world-famous doctor, a Commander on a hydroplane… where your self-esteem lifts immensely when you feel a sense of accomplishment. Mitty was her hero at that time. Depending on her imagination for amusement caused the girl to have a lonely existence. Not that she minded, people irked her. Or they used to. The less people, the happier she was. That was the world that Skyler often lost her in. A sad thing, perhaps, considering she had no had no family. Not a father to run to when she was scared. Not a mother to offer soft words of comfort. No friends to speak to. Her friends were the square little worlds in which she sometimes lived when her own world was lost to her. Those books with no covers – because the orphanage was on a tight budget.
Freak. Outsider.
No acceptance whatsoever. She knew she wasn't normal – far from it.
A paper disrupted her thoughts. At first she stared quizzically at it, then she bent her head low and started to scribble. Never stopping, except to tuck an annoying tuft of hair behind her ear.
And as fast as she began she was finished. She raised her hand and allowed the teacher to take the paper, collected her bag and left the class. She wondered if the hours, perhaps four hours, of studying she'd put in, was worth it. She saw no use for it. What was to become of her? Her future looked pale – even at eleven she could see it. She was no fool, and quite intelligent for her age. She knew she'd need finances to study further. Once out of the orphanage, she wished to study… something. But where would the money come from? Her highest accomplishment will be matric, and even if she gets good marks there and manage a bursary, the moment she opened her mouth and revealed them how odd she really was, they'd send her packing. And then? Sweeping streets and packing tin cans was her destiny. And finally? She'd have to sell her body to scrape by.
She entered the orphanage with a sigh. Soon followed by another when the older boys encircled her.
They started to chant her name. Not her given name, but the one they knew her by. Freak.
She scowled at each of them in turn. That scowl truly frightened them – she looked like a horrendous demon. Skye was a pretty girl, but whenever she got angry it was better to stay clear of her. She found the leader of the group and tilted her head. Her finger flexed and he was thrown backwards into the wall by an invisible force. Sometimes she loved being a freak. She looked at the other boys, silently daring them to take it further. No one moved. She smiled sweetly, her nasty look gone, and she skipped up the stairs to her individual room. The notes still littered her bed. She quickly moved them away and threw them in the bin. She sought her favorite book – it was one of those without covers or a faded cover.
Those were the final moments before she met Minerva McGonagall. The final minutes before she entered the magical world of wizards. And the final moments she spent without a family.
A/N: Born from after my lit test. Which explains the references to poems and short stories. And it's a ficlet on Skye the nerd. No offense meant, Lee.