Harry Potter One-Shots and Stuff.

One-Shot: The Value of Friendship (Tom Riddle era)

The full, silvery moon cast long shadows across the library floors and across its empty chairs and tables. All books and study materials had been either taken to the dormitories or returned to their places on the ancient shelves. It was January, and the occasional, sudden gusts of wind that punched at the windowpanes carried whispers of a blizzard, though the castle's inhabitants were kept nice and warm.

Though the library was dark and abandoned, there was an almost eerie glow of light enveloping a table that was crammed in a corner right under a window on one side, and a painting of a dancing court jester on the other side. Books and papers were stacked high and messily, with a lantern floating above and an open box of Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans next to a full bottle of ink. The third-year Ravenclaw boy who was sitting there was remarkably exhausted, but his Arithmancy essay was to be turned in first thing the next morning, and he was absolutely terrible at Arithmancy in general; he had to finish it. He read over the paper, but every time he checked it, it was suddenly worse than the last time. Frustrated, he clenched his usually neatly-combed brown hair, making it stick up on the side in a way reminiscent of a muggle clown.

Suddenly, somebody cleared their throat behind him. Startled, the Ravenclaw whipped around and found himself staring at a gleaming green-and-silver Head Boy badge, pinned onto the robes of a very tall, cold seventh-year Slytherin.

"Evening, Riddle." The younger boy looked down in embarrassment; in his frustration, he'd lost track of time; nine o'clock must've passed hours ago. "I-I'm sorry... just give me my detention slip and I'll be off to Ravenclaw Tower." He turned around to cork his ink bottle. The jester in the painting stopped dancing and watched inquisitively.

Instead of writing the boy a detention, Riddle just simply stood there, a dark, silent force for a few seconds while the Ravenclaw slipped his quill, ink, and a few books into his bag.

"Is it true you saved a muggle over Christmas holiday?" Riddle asked.

The younger boy didn't even look up to answer, "Yeah. I had to; she fell in the lake near my house. And she's not a full muggle, Riddle; she's a squib."

Riddle wrinkled his nose at the word 'squib'. He continued coldly, "do you understand the value of my friendship, Fenrir?"

The boy, Fenrir, nodded, finally meeting Riddle's piercing eyes, which made him feel increasingly uncomfortable. "Yes. O-of course."

Riddle lowered his voice to nearly a whisper. "Clearly not. Or you wouldn't jeopardize it by going around using your magical talents to help such filth."

"Don't talk about Arabella like that!" Fenrir gritted his teeth angrily and stood up sharply. "You don't know a thing about her." He growled at Riddle, eyes narrowed to slits. The jester in the painting gasped attempted to hide behind the frame, still peeking out to watch the boys.

Riddle's face remained expressionless. "I know she's a filthy, disgusting squib and a disgrace to her noble pure-blood family." He did not move a muscle as the Ravenclaw stepped confrontationally towards him. "You really should stop being so... friendly towards her. Unless, of course, you're not afraid of me." His lips finally curl into a cold, emotionless smile that made him reminiscent of a skull in the flickering firelight.

"I ain't a thimble-full afraid of you!" The younger boy exclaimed loudly, wrinkling his nose. He had just made his biggest mistake yet, though he did not know it right then.

An amused chuckle escaped the Slytherin's lips. "I suppose you were missorted, then." He lifted his wand, lifting Fenrir nearly a foot off the ground by the back of his shirt collar; they were now face-to-face; the Ravenclaw whimpered, trying to grasp his shirt collar away from his throat, but instead only pinching his fingers. "Not even Gryffindors would be so stupid." Riddle finished.

"I-I-" Fenrir gasped, still pulling his collar away from his throat. "I-I do so belong in R-Ravenclaw!"

"Then it's time you start acting like it." Riddle said in a low growl; he then pointed his wand away from the younger boy, causing him to topple to the ground, gasping for breath. "Now, of course, here's the matter of you being out of your dormitory past midnight." He pulled a quill and some parchment from his robes. "Let's see... that'll be... 40 points off Ravenclaw, and three weeks of detention." He scratches this down on the parchment.

Fenrir nods, "yes sir..." he stands up, picks up his bag, and runs out of the library towards his dormitory.

Riddle put out the fire in the lantern with a small puff and walked away. So the younger boy wasn't afraid of him. Undoubtedly, he would continue to go against him until Riddle did something about it. He began thinking up ways to punish Fenrir; ways to ensure that he never go against him again.

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So there's my first one-shot.

Mainly, I just wrote it to see if I could make people pity an unpityable character.

Did it work?

Love ya!

CC