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Chapter 2 -- What the Deuce!

Two days after the feast, classes began. All of my classes were advanced, and I was proud to be of the few who had qualified for such an honor. The only class in which I didn't have a firm grounding in was Transfiguration; maybe it was just my high expectations talking, but it always seemed that I took the longest to learn a spell. However, I had studied hard for the Transfiguration O.W.L. and had passed it with flying colors, thank you very much.

For my last year I was taking A.P. (Advanced Placement) Transfiguration, A.P. Charms, A.P. Potions, A.P. Arithmancy, and A.P. Defense Against the Dark Arts. That morning I woke up, exhausted. I had had little sleep the night before, due to frustration over the disappearance of the poem I had written. With heavy bags under my eyes, I threw on my robes and looked at the clock. It read

6:19

I groaned but conceded into going down to the common room. It was empty. I sighed and threw myself into an armchair by the fire. It would be an hour before the Great Hall officially opened for breakfast. I took out my notebook once again and began to write...

I thought that I knew you
But then you show me this
And I don't know what to think anymore
It seems that the truth is more complicated than I thought

I drew a picture of a snake in the corner of the page and snapped the notebook shut; I stuffed it into my canvas bag with my school books. I stood and decided I would head for the Great Hall early; I didn't really have anyone to wait for anyway.
On the way I ran into Peeves, the Poltergeist.

"Oy, Avery!" he shouted as he whizzed a piece of chewed gum passed at my head. I sighed and muttered, "Protego." The gum bounced away at around an inch away.

"No fair! Blasted magic," Peeves said as he made a grotesque face at me. "Ickle Head Girly doesn't want to play with poor Peevesie." I tried to ignore him and enter the Great Hall, (which we were standing right outside of), but he wouldn't move out of the way.

"Ickle Head Girly, won't you talk to widdle Peevesie? Cat got your tongue?" I groaned and rubbed my eyes. It was way too early in the morning for this.

Suddenly I heard a soft laugh from behind me. I spun around and saw-- him. My eyes thinned and I put back on a sneer reserved just for Riddle.

"Riddle."

"Avery. I see that you are have a copious amount of fun with dear Peeves, I wouldn't want to interrupt you," he smirked. I deducted that he had seen the entire encounter.

"Yes, loads of fun," I growled. I turned back to Peeves.

"Won't do nothing if you don't say please," Peeves said in a kiddy voice.

"Could you move, please?" Peeves gleefully shrieked and blew a raspberry in my face. I blushed and heard Riddle laugh again, amused.

"Fine, you asked for it. Lennundi!" I shouted at him, pointing my wand at his butt; his backside lit on fire and he scooted away, howling curses at me.

"Thanks for the help, Riddle," I said sarcastically. He smirked and entered the Great Hall. I followed, pissed off already at the unseemly hour of 6:45.

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Later that day

I entered Charms, my last class of the day, thoroughly annoyed. In every single one of my classes was that prat Riddle. Every single one! I guess I shouldn't have been so surprised, with us being so intellectually superior to most other people in the year, but it didn't make my day any lovelier.

I sat near the back of the room; many people had already arrived. I was coming from Potions in the dungeons (yes, with Riddle) so I was a little later than everyone else. Of course, there was Riddle, sitting in the middle of the class. He had gotten there on time. Of course. I groaned and looked around the class to see that the only free seat was next to Riddle.
Needless to say, how could my day get any worse?

A few angry looking girls glared at me; I rolled my eyes to myself (the fan club, whoopee) and sat.

"Fancy seeing you here," Riddle said scathingly in a low voice as Professor Lancing droned on about how this was our last year before we left Hogwarts for good.

"Same to you," I hissed in the same low tone.

"I guess this means we have all our classes together," he said.

"I guess it does! How much Riddle brainpower did it take to figure that one out?" I said sarcastically.

"Piss off," he growled.

I smiled, glad that I had gotten on Riddle's nerves. Suddenly my ears perked up at the mention of a project.

"As I have been saying, you will be divided into teams of two, which I have chosen already (he waves a piece of parchment). The team with the most satisfactory project will win a special edition of the series Charms; the Initiative." I recognized the name of the book that had been sold out in every wizarding bookstore in London.

"This project will last for three months; the details of the project are on this handout (he waved a massive pile of packets about his head). Now, the teams go as follows: Mister Frederick Adams, Miss Georgie Finkel..." he said, and I zoned out until I heard my name.

"Miss Atalanta Avery and... oh yes, this should be a right good pair, and Mister Tom Riddle!"

This has to be some kind of sick joke.