You sit in the library - as always - with your nose stuck in a divination book. You write down the information you need and start with your essay - two feet straight. Thanks to professor Trelawney. As concentrated as you were, you didn't hear that someone was trying to pull your attention. The book is pulled away by the one who wanted your attention. "Pe-channas, man ceril?" you react irritated. {Idiot, what are you doing?} "I beg your pardon?" a cold voice speaks. You look at the intruder, noticing that he is taken back. "I am using that book," you fire. "I need that book, it's the last copy," the boy - none other that Tom Riddle - spat. "You can use it as soon as I'm done, pe-channas," you scoff. {Idiot}
"No one talks to me like that!" the fifth year prefect clenches his jaw and balding his fists. "Do you know who I am?" he spat. You look up - once again, "yes. You're Tom Riddle." A smirk graced his lips. "Good, and who might this girl be and talks in another language?" that last part sounded pretty annoyed. 'Because he doesn't know which language,' you thought and a smile appeared on your lips. "They call me Tauriel, like always," you say. You catch Riddle starring at you, "it is the eyes, isn't it?" you question. You had pulled him out of his trance, "what? Pff, no way," he scoffs. 'Nobody has ever tried to talk to me like that!' Tom thought, 'yet, those emerald eyes...'
