Faithful Friends Solo Closed

June 5th, 2019, 5:13 p.m.

Bridget wandered through the bookshelves of the Hogwarts library. The library had rows upon rows of bookshelves. Each row had shelves, the top ones towering far above her head. Not that that was a surprise—she was short for her age, after all. The books on the shelves were as varied as the types of students found in her House, Slytherin (one Slytherin was nice and hardworking while the next was a complete git)—new books; ancient books with ruined bindings; huge, thick books she doubted she could lift; skinny books; books with expensive leather covers and gold paint; books held together by nothing more than a few knotted threads—the Hogwarts library had it all.

Sunlight streamed in through windows from the beautiful outside June day. The library had absorbed some of the exterior heat so Bridget removed her thick black robe.

It was hard to believe a whole school year had already passed. She had come into something new, something wonderful, something completely different than her Muggle upbringing. Even after poring through endless encyclopedias, Bridget had to admit she was still being surprised by the oddities of the magical world.

But the school year had not given her any friends. Bridget was picky when it came to meeting new people—she avoided people unless she thought they would be someone she would enjoy spending time with. Even then, it took her forever to trust someone and truly open up to them. So, she had spent this year in privacy. The only times she had talked to people were when she was clumsy or she ended up in a situation where interaction was unavoidable.

Bridget didn’t have any friends here—not any real friends, anyways. What she did have were books. She had always been a bookworm, but here she had spent almost every free moment reading. There was simply so much to learn that she had never known about before. Magic, werewolves, merpeople, fairies, dragons—everything she had been taught existed only in myths was real. And so it was that Bridget found a friend in books. They would never betray her or hurt her feelings. She could spend hours with them, learning and imagining fictional places. She could befriend characters—characters that could make her laugh, make her cry, make her feel that she belonged. And so, at least until she found someone to befriend in the real world, Bridget would have books.

Grabbing a dusty book with a frail binding, Bridget curled up in a corner and read.