Never tickle a sleeping toad

First, he saw the shoes. They were plain, brown, the kind you would expect a student to wear on the day of the exam. Then, he noticed the fishnet stockings and realized that maybe something was off. As his gaze drifted further up, he realized that she was not wearing the regular Hogwarts uniforms. He caught sight of the embroidered 'S' for Slytherin, flashing bright green against her pink blouse. It was the regular Hogwarts uniform. No, rectification: it was the regular Hogwarts uniform, dyed pink.

"Did you lose a bet?"

The young girl blushed. She straightened her fuchsia headband, suddenly feeling self-conscious. As she did so, Riddle was vividly reminded of Hepzibah Smith.

"Well it's not for you I'm wearing this, is it?" she retorted, glaring at him.

He shuddered. Her eyes were enormous compared to the size of her head. The fact that her straight, blond hair had been pulled back in a tight bun did not help diminish the frightening effect. Had she been a brunette, she would have looked like a blue-eyed sumo.

"Then you thought that dressing like this would earn you extra points?" he asked lazily.

She looked down at her shoes, seemingly finding them very interesting all of a sudden.

Well that's ironic. That's probably the least interesting thing about her appearance, Tom thought.

"Where is Professor Carr?" she asked, her voice dripping annoyance.

"Your regular professor can't be the one to interrogate you for an official exam."

In Tom's opinion, Carr was one of the ugliest creatures to have ever roamed the school. It was obvious the girl had not revised for DADA and was hoping to rely on her "good" looks to pass the class. And it would have worked, had it been Carr and not Tom sitting behind the desk. However, the little strategy couldn't possibly work on someone much, much more attractive than her.

"You don't work for the ministry. My parents would have told me about you," she said accusingly.

"Anyone whose OWL and NEWT results are good enough qualifies as examiner."

"And you took the job because…?"

Because I want to steal the sword of Gryffindor.

"Because I love children."

The girl violently recoiled, tripped over her own feet and toppled over backwards.

"Wasn't it your intention all along, to find someone who loves children?" he asked innocently.

"Stop pulling my leg, will you?"

He eyed her chubby limbs.

"I wouldn't dream of it."

"You're just messing with me because you hate Slytherin."

He- what?

"I beg your pardon?" he asked icily.

"It's so obvious you're a former Gryffindor who only took the job because you wanted to taunt my House mercilessly. And you're not even trying to hide it. It's a chance I'm good at reading people. I'll report you to the Headmaster first thing when I leave the room."

"Yes, you do that," he said disbelievingly. "And I'm willing to come with you."

Now she was giving him direct access to the sword. He wanted to hex her (him, a Gryffindor?) and kiss her at the same time.

"Where do you think you're going?" he asked, once he'd gotten over the elation.

"Aren't we going to the Headmaster's office?"

"You aren't allowed to leave this room before the end of the examination. We're eight minutes in; there are twelve more to go."

Well, unless I tell you to. But I won't, of course. I'm not done with you yet.

"Don't you want a chance to redeem yourself?" he encouraged.

"Redeem myself? I'm not bad at DADA. I wouldn't be surprised if I was offered a job as DADA teacher one day. I have nothing to prove."

"I beg to differ."

"Well, why don't you try me? My skills only show in real situations."

Wonderful. He would have a chance to hex her, after all.

Remember that you asked for it, blondie.

"Ready?"

"Wait… I didn't-"

He opened the door with a lazy flick of his wand. Then, with another lazy flick, he sent her flying out the room, the door closing behind her. He heard muffled swearwords as she picked herself off the floor on the over side of the partition.

Now she has a good reason to take me to the Headmaster's office. And what was that stupid curse she tried to place on me? He thought as he remembered the grey vapor that had come out of her wand seconds before his own spell hit her. A failed shield charm? Pathetic.

He tried to chuckle. The only sound that escaped him was an embarrassing fart-like noise as air shot out of his nose. He couldn't utter a single noise. He couldn't blink either.

His whole face was paralyzed.

No. No. NO! Finite Incantatem. FINITE INCANTATEM!

The curse wouldn't lift. He needed to use a special counter-hex. But he didn't know which curse she had used in the first place. He heard her muffled laugh as she ran away, her heavy footsteps clearly audible.

YOU ARE GOING TO PAY, he thought as he went after her.

Dolores Jane Umbridge

Defence Against the Dark Arts: Exceeds Expectations