All the Wrong Choices

“…I just don't understand this bloody assignment!” Ophelia growled, red in the face as she munched a croissant. “What was Dumbledore thinking assigning this? Nora, for Merlin's sake, will you help me? You have been at Hogwarts for a month and you're already doing better than me.”

“Absolutely not,” I spoke through a mouth full of muffin, “I spent four hours on transfiguration homework last night. I'm running off three hours of sleep. This is what you get for waiting until the day of. You're on your own, Lovegood.”

“Ah, I remember my sixth year.” Ophelia's brother Orion slid into the seat next to her. Swoon. “Transfiguration is so easy – how do you not understand this? You're literally turning a pumpkin into an apple.”

“First of all, Orion,” Ophelia glared at her older brother, “You were kicked out of Transfiguration in your sixth year because you couldn't grasp the concept, either. Second of all, it's not the assignment I don't understand, it's the instructions.” Ophelia rolled her eyes before giving her brother a light shove. “Stop trying to impress Nora.”

Orion looked horrified. “I'm not–” He paused. “Nora, I'm not.”

“On that note,” I stood up from my spot at the empty table, inheriting Ophelia's red face, “I've got to get heading to Potions. Ophelia, I'll see you in Transfiguration, and Orion… you should… probably work on your transfiguration.” I felt my eyes widen just the slightest and quickly turned on my feet, making a beeline out of the Great Hall.

“Work on your transfiguration?” I mumbled to myself. “What the hell was that?”

“That was a sad attempt at a pick-up line.”

I rolled my eyes. I didn't have to turn around to know who that was.

“That wasn't a pick-up line.”

“No, I didn't think so, either.” Tom spoke, gaining on me until he was walking beside me. I looked down to the floor and tucked a piece of blonde hair behind my ear, hugging my books tighter to my chest. “So, Orion Lovegood, huh? Never had you pegged as that type of girl.”

“And what type of girl would that be?” Tom looked just as dumbfounded as I felt. I don't think he really knew what he was talking about, either. I smiled to myself, keeping my eyes on the ground. “I don't like Orion Lovegood, but that Avery friend of yours is mighty cute. What's his name again? Charles?”

If looks could kill I would be dead. Tom was highly offended by this statement and I was fighting to hold back my laughter. “Avery is already going with someone. That scatterbrain Thora Fletwock. Plus, he thinks you're a head case. Which is true.”

“Quidditch has a keeper but that doesn't mean you can't score.” Again, if looks could kill. Tom's upper lip twitched, his eyes blank as he watched me for a minute. I batted back tears, the result of me trying to hold my laughter in once more.

“Tasteless.” Tom murmured, walking ahead of me in long strides.

When he was out of ear shot I started cracking up to myself.

And that was how you got rid of a pesky Tom Riddle.

“…This week's potion: Amortentia. Has anyone ever heard of it?”

“Oh!” I exclaimed, my hand shooting up in the air eagerly. My fellow classmates simply watched Professor Horace Slughorn, some others passing notes as a couple snogged in the back row.

“Miss Longwood.” Professor Slughorn nodded, mirroring my eagerness.

“It is the most powerful love potion in existence. Stronger than Cupid Crystals, Twilight Moonbeams, the Kissing Concoction. But it doesn't necessarily create love as much as it does a sick obsession or infatuation. It has a different aroma for everyone who smells it, reminding each person of the things they find most attractive.” Professor Slughorn was more than happy to accept this as an answer.

“Right you are, Miss Longwood. For that detailed account I will award ten points to Slytherin. I see all of that home schooling certainly paid off for you.” Tom snorted from the table next to me and Professor Slughorn quickly turned his attention to him. “Is there something you wanted to add, Mister Riddle?”

“No, Professor,” Tom spoke, glancing around the room blankly before averting his attention back to Professor Slughorn, “I was just wondering when we were going to be learning about more useful potions, such as veritaserum, or draught of the living death.”

“Soon enough, Mister Riddle.” Professor Slughorn spoke before returning to the table up front, smiling down at a small black cauldron. “Come on up, my friends. Don't be afraid. Redmane, Halowitz, you can continue your game of tonsil quidditch after this lesson. Come, come. Do I have any volunteers?”

My hand flew up. “Miss Longwood, yes. Tell me what you smell.”

I leaned over the pot when Professor Slughorn took it off and took a long sniff of it. It was quite possibly the best scent I'd ever smelt, and I made a mental note to make this into a perfume if all else failed after graduation. “It smells like… sawdust… log fires… the pavement after the first rain breaks… and… some sort of cologne. Sandalwood, maybe?”

“Excellent. Ah – Mister Dunwich. Come on up.”

I scooted back into the crowd of students as Irfan Dunwich took my place behind the pot. “I smell new tennis balls, coconuts… fir trees, and the smell of clean linen.” Professor Slughorn become giddy as he called for one more volunteer.

“Riddle, why don't you lean over the pot and tell me what you smell?”

“Is this truly necessary, Professor?” Tom asked, his face slightly contorted.

“If you want a participation grade for the class, yes.”

Tom sauntered over to behind the pot, glaring at it like it were poison.

“This won't make me fall in love or anything, will it?”

“Of course not,” Professor Slughorn turned to the rest of the students, “Amortentia will only have an effect on someone if taken by oral consumption.” Tom glanced at Professor Slughorn once more before sighing and leaning over the pot. “What do you smell, Tom?”

“I'm not sure,” Tom said, “Peppermint, cinnamon, and used books.”

“Excellent–” The bells sounded from outside of the school, signaling the end of the period block. “That concludes our lesson for today. Please do the work on pages sixty to sixty-five in your textbook. Be prepared to brew your own potion on Thursday.”