I got back a little less than 12 hours ago from Hawaii, so I'm rather proud of myself for already getting this up. It would've been sooner, had the seat (on the plane...) next to me not been occupied by a kid who wanted to scream the entire 5 hours of the flight... So, I got no sleep, end of story.

I talk too much.

ANYWAY... the next chapter is out, and chapter 3 should be out in the next day or two (please don't hold me to that, though).

Oh. And also, thank you so much, Peasoup, for reviewing!!!!!!

Enjoy guys. :)

Much to Mrs. Avery's delight, and only Mrs. Avery's, they were to meet with her every day for the first week, and every other day the week after. And, to the shock of absolutely no one, progress had yet to be made.

"These things take time!" She would assure them cheerfully.

Little did she know, this was only increasing their anger with one another. They certainly were not aspiring to become chummy with one another. It couldn't have been made any plainer and yet, every day for the past 7 days, Mrs. Avery tried to motivate them with the prospect of laughing and holding long conversations with one another.

But today was going alright, considering the amount of times they'd come at one another previously. Not a day had passed without Trina Avery having to call another teacher to help restrain the pair. And she knew the only reason today was any different was because after today, they had fewer lessons. It was somewhat disheartening, but she wasn't going to give up on them this easily.

"Are you spending time together?" She asked.

"If you mean more than absolutely necessary, then no," Tom snapped. He was not in the mood for this today (just like every other day).

"Then," she sighed. "You two will sit next to each other at the Quidditch match today."

"Unfortunately, Mrs. Avery, I'm on the team," Beatrice sighed, attempting to sound disappointed. "...Damn!"

"Gryffindor is not playing today," Mrs. Avery smiled up at them. Beatrice's face dropped.

"Slytherin?" She turned to Tom, hopefully. He shook his head.

"Regretully," Mrs. Avery began, looking from Tom to Beatrice, "I won't be seeing either of you play today. I've talked to the headmaster and he's so kindly arranged it so that Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff will be playing against one another. But I suppose that is most fortunate, seeing how enthusiastic Beatrice seems to be! Isn't that right, Mr.Riddle?"

"Regretfully," he growled.

"I think I'm going to be transferred to Ravenclaw," Beatrice tried.

"Well, I'm sure they had enough players before that offer was made-"

"...No they didn't."

"Beatrice, you're not getting out of this."

"Absence makes the heart grow fonder!" Beatrice mumbled.

"Yes, unfortunately, it's fonder, not fond, Miss Emerski," she replied.

"I think it's worth a try," Tom grumbled.

"I don't."

"I agree... with... him." Beatrice looked pained to say it.

"Stop it, you're going together and that's it!"

"But-"

"You've just gotten yourselves isolated from the rest of the crowd at the match."

"Oh look what you've done NOW!" Beatrice turned to him and slapped him on the arm.

"Me? Me? 'I'm getting transferred to Ravenclaw'! Very believable."

"Oh get over it, you didn't even try."

"You're a hypocrite, you know that Mudblood? ("You will call each other by first names!" Mrs. Avery yelled for what must've been the thirtieth time that day, but was ignored.) 'We're in this together, Riddle, so don't go being selfish' and then you're the one whose got us both in trouble!"

"Well I..." Beatrice made a face. "That's different! I'm not openly defying-"

"The hell you aren't!"

Beatrice glared at him and got out of her chair. "This is different! I was trying to get us both out of it, not trying to piss her off!" She was headed for the door.

"Beatrice, incase you've forgotten, Tom has to escort you to the match."

"Tom," she spat, "Can escort whoever he ruddy wants but it's not going to be me!"

"Move your big head," Tom snapped. "I can't see at all."

"Maybe it's because you have the lens caps on, Moron."

"What do you take me for? An idiot?"

She nodded.

"Well, I certainly do n-" Tom paused and looked at his binoculars. His face flushed and he jerked the lens caps off. "NOT have the lens caps on." He finished. There was nothing comical in the way he did it, but she snorted all the same.

"Oh smooth. Like I didn't see that." She could've said the sky was blue, really, and he would've still insisted it was all a pack of lies...

"Stop fighting!" Mrs. Avery snapped. She'd been hopeful when they hadn't argued the entire time they were headed for the pitch, and still while they were seated... until she realized Beatrice had used a silencing charm on him and was taunting him in a whisper. All of two minutes had passed since, and not one moment of it had been silent. "If you two don't have a decent conversation with one another by the end of this match, I'm extending your sessions." Beatrice and Tom glared at her before Beatrice spoke rather defiantly.

"So, about that ruddy shrink we've got..." He surpressed the urge to smile.

"Bloody horrible, she is."

"I think I may really need a shrink after this."

"It's hard to find good help these days-"

"Something else," Mrs. Avery hissed.

"Lovely weather, isn't it?"

"Yeah, nothing like a good hail storm."

"I think I'd prefer it over being locked up in that classroom all day-"

"Oh, I know. With that Avery woman?"

"Yeah." Mrs. Avery turned and glared at them before turning back to the match, which had barely started.

"So... about that shrink we've got-" She could've sworn she heard a laugh or two.

"I think," Mrs. Avery began, "That this experience was quite good for you two. I noticed there was a little less profanity than usual-"

"Yeah, Tom, you need to mix that in a little more," Beatrice whispered under her breath.

"I heard laughing even-"

"Then you hear sounds only dogs can hear-"

"How do you figure? Was it because you heard them?" Beatrice whispered nastily.

"But," Trina Avery continued sternly, "I'm still not satisfied with spending time together merely 3 or 4 times a week. I think it would be good if you partnered in a class or two. You could really learn-!" She clapped her hands together. "That's it! You two will pick something you'd like to learn that the other does exceptionally well. And you will work together the days we don't meet... and I expect progress." She looked ready to burst from the brilliance of this idea.

The usual looks of horror danced across the faces of both students. "We're not going to get a day away from each other!"

"Now," Trina beamed as if Tom hadn't spoken, "Pick something... go on... PICK!" She snapped at last.

"I want to learn Occlumency." Beatrice looked taken aback. She'd expected some sort of smartass comment along the lines of 'Teach me how to be such a useless whore'. It was somewhat disappointing; she'd already started forming comebacks. But then it occurred to her. Tom Riddle... hiding his thoughts from the rest of the world. Did she really want to be held responsible for whatever stupidity it was he wanted to accomplish? How safe was it to help him of all people, hide his thoughts?

"No," she said flatly. "I'll teach him how to do anything else."

"Beatrice," Tom said with mock sadness, "I'm actually looking forward to learning this-"

"See?" Mrs. Avery clapped her hands together once more. "He's looking forward to it!"

"I bet he is! Do you know what kind of damage he could do? At least usually the teachers can prove we did stuff- and Tom gets away with enough as it is!"

"I'm starting to think you enjoy it when Tom is in trouble."

"How long did you say you've been doing this, exactly?" Beatrice snapped. "Even HE knows that."

"Beatrice, I'm sorry, you're going to teach him Occlumens- I'm surprised someone as young as yourself would know it, really- quite amazing- anyway- What would you like to learn?"

"I want to be as cold and stoic as him," she stated without the slightest hint of sarcasm.

"Beatrice, you need to take this seriously."

"I was being serious- she's just being rude," Tom said with feigned hurt. The plump woman ignored him.

"I am," she shrugged, turning to face Tom. "You want to learn how to keep people from reading your mind. I want to keep people from reading my expression. Really, what's so hard to understand about that? Or was it simply that you needed an explanation of what 'stoic' meant?"

"Fine," he said coolly.

"Shake on it," Mrs. Avery chimed in.

"Shake...?" Tom raised an eyebrow.

"Hands, Mr. Riddle."

"I know what you meant!"

"Well, then, go on. Shake on it." They both stared at her, then at the other's hands, but didn't move. "Come now, we don't have all day! A little contact won't hurt... unless you think it would be awkward," she added, forcing the grin off of her face. They both picked up on it.

"Excuse me, awkward? Awkward how?"

"Well, as I've said, the tension-" Beatrice didn't want to hear it and, without much thought, grabbed his hand hastily. He felt a burning sensation run through him as soon as she touched him. It was somewhat frightening, and he would've recoiled if he hadn't thought it would give Beatrice another reason to laugh at him. Which has nothing to do with her, really... I don't care what she thinks. She just can't be assuming she's got some sort of control over me is all... She's got to know that she can't laugh at me. Nobody can laugh at me...

They were holding their hands out, still not moving. She glanced at him. Just shake my hand... the thought drifted through Tom's head and when he looked up, she was staring pointedly at him. ...Yeah, hi. SHAKE MY HAND. I want this over with as much as you do. He nodded and in mid-shake she was already pulling her hand away. The burning sensation was wearing off. What was that? Tom chewed the inside of his lip. Maybe her hand was just... warm? He felt disgusted suddenly. Her hand? Her hand? ... the hell? It was warm? Nothing about her is warm... It just... this is ridiculous. That Avery is trying to pull something over us, and Beatrice- the mudblood... probably felt it too... It was just... Avery thinks she's on to something... Yeah...

Mrs. Avery was grinning.

"I would ask why you're smiling, except that I don't really want to know," Beatrice grumbled, wiping her hand on her sleeve.

"Or you're afraid to know."

"Mrs. Avery," Beatrice sighed. "Gryffindors are prone to taking dares- even stupid ones. But I'm not that dense."

"Can we leave?"

"Yes, I suppose so- but remember! Lessons!" And with that, Trina Avery practically skipped out of the room with a renewed hope.

Beatrice groaned and reached down for her bag.

Tom, who was now leaning against the door frame, was staring after the woman, half amused, half disgusted. "Look at that fat old nutter, practically dancing out of the room."

Beatrice, who was trying to keep her hair out of her face and failing horribly, snorted. "She really thinks she's helping us- I feel sort've bad for her."

"Don't," Tom shrugged. "You ready to g-?" He broke off and felt himself go red.

"What?" She looked up at him, somewhat alarmed. What's wrong with Riddle?

"Mudblood." He didn't know what else to say. He just had to leave. Now. He had to get away from her. He couldn't be near her.

"You are a piece of work, you know that?" She rolled her eyes and headed out the door... and he was following after her. Cue horrified face.

"I just waited back to-" She stopped and glared.

"Call me that?"

"Er... no, I-" He was spluttering. He was a lunatic... and it's her bloody fault!

"Fascinating. Now if you'd excuse me, I have to watch a turkey thaw."

"I have to ask-" Don't ask her about her hands... don't... His heart was pounding in his head. What's wrong with me? No! What's happening to me? Nothing's... nothing's wrong... with me...

"Yes?" She'd finally turned to face him. "What?"

"What time we're doing those bloody lessons?"

"Oh," she frowned. "Right. After dinner, maybe?" He nodded.

"Fine."

"Fine."

"FINE!"

"What're you, four?" She took a deep breath. "Anyway, we should probably start tomorrow, seeing as she's-"

"We're done talking," he said flatly.

"Excuse- excuse me?"

"We're done talking-"

"You don't call the shots," she said through gritted teeth.

"Well it certainly couldn't be you- Mudbloods don't-"

"Stop calling me that!" She'd heard him say it loads of times, but now, suddenly, it bothered her.

"What would you like me to call you, Mudblood? Surely they don't give you names-"

"OH, YOU'RE ONE TO TALK!"

"Women," he shook his head, forcing himself to turn his back to her. "Over emotional- the world is better off without them-"

"Overemotional? Oh that's rich, coming from the prat who thinks feeling is beneath him! You wouldn't know emotion if it bit you in the ass!"

He wanted to punch her. "You don't- you think just because-" He wasn't sure where he was going with this. "Just... shut up Mudblood-"

"MY NAME," she bellowed, "IS BEATRICE!" It wasn't unlike her to scream at him...

He had the sudden urge to throw up... because he'd also had the sudden urge to hold her hand again. "Beatrice-"

"PISS OFF, RIDDLE! WHATEVER INSULT YOU HAVE- JUST STUFF IT!" ...but it was very much out of her character to run off the way she was right now.

She was embarrassed and angrier than she had reason to be. She didn't understand why, just yet, but sheknew that getting away from him would be the best thing at the moment...

He, on the other hand, loathed her even more for it, if that was possible. He felt like the scum of the Earth, and he was positive that it was her doing. She was trying to control him or something...

And it was, you know... working.

It was, originally, very dramatic. The shouting match was longer and was way too overdone. So I changed it a lot...

Anyway, I hope this is alright so far. I'm starting to really enjoy writing this, so hopefully more people will start reading it!!!!

cough And reviewing it... cough cough

THANKS:)