Author's Note: This is just something I did for fun. I actually had a few people tell me they wish I would rewrite the entire story from Magdalena's perspective but I don't really have that kind of time. Maybe someday if I get really bored.

Enjoy!

Rewrite: Chapter 1

A willing victim to harm would be great right about now. Even just a pillow to punch or scream into would be nice. My Transfiguration class has gotten ridiculous. The workload the teacher bestows upon us far exceeds the time we have to complete it. I barely have time for my other subjects.

Horrible, incompetent...

I need to relax. I can handle all the work and still have time for my normal routines, right? I hope so.

I can at least take solace in the fact that now I have my free period. Oh God. It's only 9:30 and I'm already angry. Something needs to cheer me up so I'm not in this mood all day.

I sat down on the circular bench. It was always empty and it only happened one time that someone has sat next to me. It was by accident. The kid sat down to wait for someone, saw me, and then left in quite a hurry, keeping a close eye on me as he ran away, thinking I was going to hex him or something. A lot of the kids in school are afraid of me or think I'm weird. I never really understood why. Maybe it's because I prefer night time to day time? Maybe it's because I say the thoughts on my mind that aren't 'normal' to everyone else? Maybe it's because I have interests in the afterlife and the stars and I don't listen to 'normal' music? What is normal anyway? I certainly don't know but either way, I'm considered to not be it. It doesn't really bother me anyway. I've always thought it's best if everyone either likes you or fears you because then at least no one hates you.

The weather is nice. It's cloudy so there isn't a lot of sun but there is enough to read by. On top of that, it's a bit chilly. Most students are wearing their robes but I'm fine without them. I enjoy a little cold. It's refreshing.

I pulled out my record player. I think I'm going to change its color later today. It's a bland wood-colored shade right now, pretty dreary if you ask me.

In the record player was one of my favorite records. I had recorded it myself last summer when I went to this underground show with my friend, Adonia. It was in this hidden club on the outskirts of London with bands performing that I had never heard of. The music was so amazing. The lyrics were like crafted poetry, flowing from verse to verse. The instruments sounded so much more powerful and fast paced. I remember that I danced under the flashing lights. And the singing, oh the singing bore into your very soul. Sad songs and happy songs, I loved them all.

I adjust the volume of the record player by spinning my finger above it a couple of times until it was loud enough to hear but quiet enough for me to concentrate on my book.

I started reading this book only yesterday and I'm almost done with it. It's a romance novel about a vampire and I honestly can't put it down. The main character is in love with this mysterious guy from her school and she can't shake the feeling that there's something about himself that he won't tell her.

"You can stay a little longer." she crooned to him, laying her head on his chest.

He grinned a pointy-tooth grin and reached out and caressed...

I stop reading. I know a good part is coming up so I want to put it off to make sure there's nothing around me that could distract me or keep me from finishing all of it at once. I haven't taken in my location yet anyway.

I put my finger in my book to hold the page and look around the courtyard.

In front of me, two girls are leaning on the railing of the bridge gossiping. I can't actually hear them but I can tell they're gossiping. They have that vindictive look about them. They share a nasty sneer that is only conspicuous on the faces of gossiping girls. One girl, a blonde one who is a fifth year Slytherin I think, is inspecting her claw-like nails and telling a girl with short brown hair something that causes her to squeal, "Oh my God!" The blonde girl doesn't seem to care too much that the other girl is shocked; she just continues to inspect her nails.

I look behind me and see Craig 'thinks-he's-a-stud' Farkas trying to get some second year Hufflepuffs to drink this random liquid that he's holding. The kids are trying to get away from him but he keeps following them trying to convince them that it's fun. Poor kids. I would help them and tell off Craig but they seem like they're handling it fine. I'll give him a talking to myself later. Doesn't he have anything more productive to do than harass little kids? Sadly, I'll bet the answer is no.

Off in the distance, there's a group of Gyffindor boys watching a chess match between two of their peers. It appears to be an intense game. I thought I had heard some cheering a couple minutes ago.

It's a pretty empty courtyard all things considered. I think most students who have a break at this time are in their dormitories or the library.

Then I noticed someone else in the courtyard, leaning against the tree. Tom Riddle. He's one of those characters who's been in my classes but who I've never actually talked to or been officially introduced to. I've got a lot of people like that in my life. I wouldn't be surprised if he doesn't even know my name but there have been so many rumors...

Rumors about him too lately. Now everyone knows that he's actually the last living descendant of Salazar Slytherin. I believe that he just found out himself and that's why it's news. It just surprises me because he doesn't seem like the type. He doesn't seem like a Slytherin, let alone Salazar's relative. He always struck me as polite, generous, studious, and a bit mysterious. But there is something eerie about him, I'll give him that. It's kind of intriguing.

I remember one of the very few interactions between him and I was about a month ago. I was going to check out the prefect bathroom because I had never used it before but I had heard it was a great place to sit in a bath and think. The door was unlocked so I opened it and he was in the bathtub. I guess he forgot to lock the door. I didn't really see anything. I just quickly shut the door and ran out of the hallway hoping he didn't see me.

He's quite a handsome boy. I've always thought so, not that I've ever mentioned it to anyone. If I had told one of my friends they'd probably read something into it or joke about it. Pale, black hair, deep, dark eyes, yes, he's very good-looking. Too bad, he's a Slytherin.

He's been staring for a while now. I wonder what's so fascinating. Wait a second. He's staring at me. What the hell?

Oh no, he did see me when I walked in on him in the bathroom. He probably thinks I got a full shot of him. Maybe it's the rumors. Maybe he's trying to figure out if any of the rumors are true. Is he looking to see if I have fangs or something? Why do I even care what he thinks of me! I don't care what anyone else thinks!

Why is he still staring at me? Just ignore him. Just ignore him. Just ignore him.

I can't concentrate on this book because I can see him out of the corner of my eye, staring at me. It has to be the rumors. There's no other reason why he would be looking at me for so long.

Dammit. I think I'm late for Charms. Of all days for me to forget to wear a watch. It's always on the day that you get too much homework and then have an attractive classmate stare at you funny that you also forget a watch.

I pack up my things and start looking around for someone with the time. The Gryffindor boys are too far away and I don't want to interrupt them. The girls in the corner aren't wearing watches and seem like they wouldn't help me anyway. Craig's a bastard...

Tom starts walking toward the castle. Even if he does think I'm a sub-human, I'm sure he'll be benevolent enough to help me.

"Do you know what time it is?" I ask casually.

"It's 10:05." he says, staring directly into my eyes. His stare is pretty intimidating and I don't get intimidated easily. But there's something strange about his stare. It's almost as if he isn't looking for evidence. In fact, it seems like there's longing behind his stare. Like he's hitting on me using his eyes alone, silently trying to charm me. I must be imagining it. I must be. A guy like that wouldn't want a girl like me.

"Fuck." I say quietly, stomping my foot on the ground and grabbing my backpack. I'm late.

I hope he didn't hear me. Prefects really shouldn't use foul language. It sets a bad example, not that anyone would say anything about it.

I turned around quickly and yelled, "Thanks," to him as I ran to class. I could swear though that as I was turning to leave, I saw a faint smile grace his lips.