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Mei Amor:  The Story
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I was eleven when I met him.  There was no spark immediately; he was just another boy in my House.  Just another student.

But within the first week, I knew that I wanted to be with him.  Not to date him, despite what happened – I just wanted to be near him.  Maybe share in the greatness I knew would swarm around him.

In our second year, he expressed interest in having me around.  I wasn’t immediately sure why – I was just like any other student.  At that time, there was nothing unique about me.  But perhaps he knew what was in store for my future, and that’s why he wanted me around.

By our fourth year, it became painfully obvious that I had come to fancy him and he had no interest in me.  He had become extremely popular, with both the students and professors alike.  He was kind, patient, and very smart.

However, when we were fifteen, he asked me out.  I admit, I was very startled when he asked me.  I felt like pinching myself, just to make sure I was awake.  Before I could think too much, I agreed.  I wasn’t quite sure what had gotten into him – perhaps he just wanted to get rid of the persistent admirers.  He was always using me.  I only allowed it because I was hoping that there was a bit of decency in him that would see the error of his ways and perhaps love me back.

I was naïve.

By the time our final year rolled around, I was beginning to seriously doubt that he cared about me more than he cared about some dog off the street.  I had to… to get away.  His talk of immortality and who he would become….  It hurt to hear him talk like that.  He had become borderline obsessive--- he became manic obsessive.  The idea of never dying had seduced him, and he was eating out of her palm.  After our seventh year, I left him, and planned never to see him again.

I said goodbye to Tom Riddle; and indeed, I never saw him again.

I took measures to make sure that I would be able to live to see his legacy.  I was a bit vain, however, and didn’t want to grow old.  Silly, yes; but I cared more about my looks than he did.  Potions, spells… everything I could find to halt my aging, I did.  Nasty side effects followed, including extreme sensitivity to sickness, mutations in my physical appearance, and hair loss, to name a few.  I found more spells, more potions, to counteract most of the terrible side effects – my hair grew back, though my eyes turned red.  I’ve been called a demon on more than one occasion.  I deeply wish they would go back to the emerald they once were.

I began to miss my education.  My days at Hogwarts were some of my most memorable – and it wasn’t just because of Tom.  I visited Hogwarts one day, and talked with the headmaster.  He was hesitant, but agreed to let me attend school again, given I looked the proper age – having a seventeen-year-old in her first year would be awkward.

I once again brewed up some of the potions, cast some spells – I was eleven years old again.

Going through Hogwarts a second time was certainly fun.  I knew my way around most of the classes; some had changed their curriculum, and I had a bit of difficulty with those.  But the other students saw me as a bit of a genius.  And I took advantage of this.  I had always been in Tom’s shadow, and now… I had the limelight.

That’s how I met Potter.  James.  James Potter and his gang.

They kept me around – once more, I was used.  I didn’t complain, though.  They used me this time, not for getting rid of admirers, but making plans, being a distraction, sneaking ingredients from the Potions’ stores….  Whatever they needed that delinquents like them couldn’t get, but a teacher’s pet like me could.

I must admit, I had fun.

Sirius and I drew closer, and he eventually asked me out.  I said yes.  It wasn’t as romantic or as serious as it could have been – indeed, no one else seemed to think we were anything more than friends.  I didn’t mind.

Once again, however, after our seventh year, I was gone.  I couldn’t figure out why, I should confess.  Perhaps it was the fact that Voldemort was growing in power.  Perhaps it was the fact that I couldn’t bare to see Sirius drawing so much closer to me, yet not knowing he would slowly die away while I continued living.  I separated myself from them.

Then, James and Lily were killed.

That night was a dark night.  I didn’t sleep.  They had a son – I got a letter not three weeks before.  He was orphaned now.  With no family, Sirius sent to Azkaban, Remus nearly in hiding for his “furry little problem”, and Peter a traitor, there was no one in the wizarding world to take Harry in.

That’s why I felt the need to go back to Hogwarts.  Again.  I asked Professor Dumbledore for a teaching position, but he turned me down.  He agreed, however, to let me attend the school for a third time – given, this time, I did not become a teacher’s pet or use my knowledge to my advantage.  I agreed.

I wanted to watch over Harry from afar – Ravenclaw would have been nice.  But Fate had a different idea.  Fate decided that I should be right next to him, living through what he had to go through.

I became his friend, no longer watching over him, but needing to be watched over myself.

No matter how hard I tried, I could not separate myself from him.

At the end of our first year, I realized that I didn’t want to.  Harry was everything I had been looking for – a replacement for the Tom Riddle I had lost.


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