VIVIAN LUPIN

"Good morning, fifth-years," Dumbledore smiles. "As your head of your house has already informed you, you have switched having classes." I watch the professor scan his students, including me.
     "It is why I have decided to mix you," he smiles. A sigh leaves my lips as Aramis groans in protest. Aramis is the male prefect of Ravenclaw House. Professor Dumbledore flicks his wand and the papers float through the air. It gently lands on my desk as I start searching for my name.
"Let's switch."
"We are nowhere near each other," Aramis complains. I noticed his seat is exactly where he sat, while I need to move to the other side of the class.
Next to...
Tom Riddle.
Oh, would you look at that?
"You're sitting next to that creep," Aramis mutters. I don't know what to feel, but it's neither positive nor negative.
"I can see that," I sigh. "Take care." I swing my bag over my shoulder. Aramis waves me goodbye as if it is the last time he sees me.
     The odd male scent hit my nostrils the moment I entered the classroom. Even though, I have no idea what it means but it somehow comforts me. It eases my senses.
     I glance at Riddle, watching him shift his eyes between the paper and me. His eyebrows furrow and creases form on his forehead. The male scent grows stronger as I approach the other side of the class.
     "Are you well?" I question. His creases fade as his expression grow blank.
"Exceptionally," he replies, his tone hinted with sarcasm. I roll my eyes and take the seat besides him.

During this first period, that scent danced around my senses. It is not acting up heavily, however, I cannot ignore it.
     Professor Dumbledore announces class is over. I gather my books and quill as I hear my name fall.
     "Ms Lupin, can I borrow a few minutes of your time?" Professor Dumbledore questions gently. I send him a courteous nod.
     "Viv?" Aramis calls. I glance over my shoulder to see him at the classroom door. I tell him to catch him later before he gives me the thumbs up before leaving. I wait for an empty classroom as the scent fades along with the absence of the students.
     "What can I do for you, Professor?" I question, leaning against the desk. I watch him comfortably stuff his hands in his pockets.
     "I just want to see how you are doing," he smiles. "Plus your expectations for this year." I listen to his calm heart beat while I repeat his question in my head.
"I am well," I answer. "I wish to find my soulmate since I'm near the age of sixteen, but who knows. Besides that, I simply wish to pass my OWL's." The Professor sends me a warm smile and nods.
"I hope you will find your significant other, because from what I've read, it can make your problem less troublesome," he said. I tilt my head at his words, wanting to ask more about the mating bond.
"I've read a thing or two about soulmates, but all the signs are incredibly vaguely described," I answer honestly.
     "Then you must have read about the deep connection between them. Your minds are linked through a mental bridge," Dumbledore explains. "Based on what I've read, you can feel each other's feelings and might even communicate through the mind." My mouth opens in surprise as I fail to retrieve this information from the book.
     "Besides, your soulmate is your anchor. Someone who can keep you steady during the full moon," he finishes at last. My hands have moved up to my temples.
     So much new information.
     What about scent though?
     Before I could utter another word, a knock is heard on the door. My head snaps in that direction before realising he has other classes.
     "Thank you for this information," I say with a nod. Dumbledore sends me a warm smile that a father would give you.
     "My office is always open for you, Ms Lupin," he smiles. I send him a last smile before heading out.

I head to the dungeons for my favourite class of all times: potions. I abruptly stop in my track as shrieking reaches my ears. My ears point, listening to whether I've heard it correctly. Without hesitation, I stride to the person in peril.
     Once I near the situation, I notice three larger boys corner another person. I could hear the rapid heartbeat from here.
     "And why aren't you in class?" My voice booms through the corridor. The three students jump around as I notice their heartbeats accelerating. "There against one seems a bit unfair."
     It is the middle one who spoke to me. Well, he wasn't really speaking. "She is a filthy little mudblood," he snarls. "She doesn't belong in this world." My eyes narrow at the boy as I cross my arms over my chest.
     "Hogwarts is a school for witches and wizards," I say. "That has nothing to do with bloodlines. You will present yourselves to Professor Slughorn, the head of your House." The boy threw me a look, silently telling me he was unimpressed.
     "You cannot make me," he protests. I open my mouth to threaten, yet it isn't my voice that I hear.
     "I'm disappointed." I close my mouth and then notice Riddle's presence beside me. "I will take points from you, ten each and I do not want to hear a single word out of your mouths. Go." His tone was calm, yet a hint of dominant threatening. As the boys leave the scene with their tails between their legs, I turn to the girl.
     "Do not ever let anyone tell you that you aren't enough," I say gently. I tuck a strand of hair behind her hair before wiping away a tear with my thumb. "You are as beautiful as you are."
     "Thank you," she sniffs. After a short embrace, she heads to her second class. I then remember that Riddle is still staying beside me. Annoyance bubbles in my chest as I turn to him.
     "I was handling the situation," I say. His eyes meet mine and I'm met by a cold expression. He scoffed.
     "Didn't look like it," he scoffed. "Because if it weren't for me, he would have lost his entire respect for you."
     "And why would you care that he lost respect for me?" I question. My tone is sharp, but I don't care. "He was calling her something I will not repeat. I cannot let that slip through my fingers."
     "I care because it is my House we are speaking of," he hisses. "I do not tolerate any misbehaviour or disrespect." I narrow my eyes at him before I stalk away.
     Bastard.
     Yet, he didn't leave me alone. "I was talking to you," he snaps, easy keeping up with my strides.
     "The conversation is over," I said.
     "You do not get to decide whether it is over," he argues.
     "Well, cry about it," I growl.
     Correction: insufferable bastard.

I sit down in my assigned seat and keep my eyes on my notebook. The male scent lingers in this room and it is still stronger than any scent. I do not understand what it is.
"Ah, Tom m'boy." I hear Professor Slughorn voice near my desk. I resist the urge to roll my eyes. I've heard stories from Remus about him in potions, how fond he is of Riddle.
"Ah, Ms. Lupin," he smiles. I am now forced to lift my head to meet my professor's eyes. I send him a smile, but remain silent.
     "You have a good deal next to you," he continues. "Tom m'boy is top of his class." I hadn't thought about it that these seats are for every class. Potions meaning brewing in pairs.
     By the Wyrd, help me.
     I force a smile. "How lucky to be me," I smile, slightly gritting through my teeth. I feel Riddle rolling his eyes. I can feel it. Good.
     Professor Slughorn starts his class and continues to have the most boring talk that ever existed. While listening, I took my notes and doodled along. Once the verb 'brewing' fell of his tongue, my ears point.
"Your duo will be your brewing partner." I roll my eyes at his words as I am utterly doomed. I cast a glance aside at Riddle, only to find him glaring at me already.
Insuffable bastard.

"I brew," he demands. "You make sure to secure the right ingredients." I grit my teeth to prevent my tongue to get the better of me. I am sure my jaw is tensed as well.
After Slughorn's instructions, I take a look at the ingredients before retrieving them for My Dear Tom.
Truly insufferable.
I mutter the ingredients to check whether I'm complete before turning around. As I step while turning around, I stumble over something. The concrete floor is awfully close as I let go of the ingredients to catch myself.
Before I could blink, I could feel a pair of arms to catch me. I fall into their arms but my hands hit the floor, slicing them open due the fallen glass. The glass stings in my hands as I hiss.
"Careful now." I then smell a male's scent as his voice rings in my ears. He helps me back on my feet as I keep my palms skyward.
"Blimey," he sighs. "Took quite the fall."
"Ms Lupin, are you alright?" Professor Slughorn questions. I watch him flinch from the glass in my hands. The pain has eased out though. It might be one of the few perks of being a werewolf, wounds heal fast. Except, there is still glass inserted in my hands.
"Well, I don't think I can just take it out," I say. I would've done that, however, I have an audience who do not need to see me heal.
"I can take her to the Hopsital Wing," the boy said. I open my mouth to protest, but Professor Slughorn was sold by the young man's idea.
     "Excellent idea, Mr Lestrange," he beams. "And such care for your fellow students. Ten points to Slytherin!" I let the boy guide me to the Hospital Wing, not casting a glance in Riddle's direction.

"What is your name?" he asked, breaking the silence of our walk. I shift my eyes from the floor to the boy. I get a better look of his face, vaguely recognizing him. His tallness with black hair seem familiar to me.
     "Vivian," I answer shortly. He only nods before introducing himself. "I'm Tiernan," he smiles. Lestrange. It finally clicks. He is with the Quidditch team. James always complains about Lestrange.
Another silence fell between us. I averted my gaze to what was in front of me.
"It is quite nice, isn't it? To switch Houses during class," he says, trying to make conversation.
     "I suppose it is," I answer. I was okay with having classes with Hufflepuff. They are chill students, yet ambitious in their own way. Tiernan pushes the door of the Hospital Wing open and a second later, Madam Pomfrey emerges from her office.
     "What has happened?" she questions. I show her my hands before turning to Tiernan.
     "I'm alright. Madam Pomfrey takes care of me and I'll return. Thank you," I smile. I watch him hesitate. He glanced at Madam Pomfrey, who nodded as well. His eyes meet mine and he nods.
     "I'll see you in class," he says before leaving the Hospital Wing. Once the door was closed, she turned to me with an arched brow. I take a sigh and start removing the glass shards from my hands
     "I tripped with potion ingredients," I sigh. I watch my wound start healing.
     "Good thing that you've sent him away," Madam Pomfrey says. "However, I do need to bondage your hands because it will catch the eye if your wounds have healed." I nod which is most understandable.
After a few minutes, I'm on my way to the dungeons. I reenter the classroom, noticing Professor Slughorn has just dismissed class.

"I thank you for your incompetence in retrieving some simple ingredients." I glance aside to see Riddle. My jaw tenses as I fight the urge to roll my eyes. His tone is cold and his expression is pissed. I arch my eyebrow and my lips purse.
"Well, I cannot help that I tripped," I reply. I cannot wrap my head around the fact that he doesn't understand that I was injured. "Besides, I had shards of glass in my hands."
     "You've cost me a great time," he snarls.
     Insufferable prick.
     I roll my eyes as I swing my bag over my shoulder. Without another word, I left.
     "Vivian!" I glance over my shoulder and see Tiernan jogging up to me. I send him a smile.
"Hey," I smile.
"Are you heading towards the Great Hall?" he questions, gripping the leather strap of his bag.
"Yes, my friends are probably waiting for me there," I answer.
"Your Gryffindor friends, right?" he questions carefully. I know he is careful because his heartbeat slightly elevates. I turn to look at him and smile.
"Yes, them," I reply. I catch a hint of male scent. That male scent. I glance over my shoulder to see Riddle approaching us. Tiernan must have felt curious and glanced over his shoulder as well. His heartbeat elevated even further.
     "Lestrange," Riddle calls, causing Tiernan to tense up. "Riddle," he replies. I feel for the boy, his heartbeat is accelerating while Riddle's heartbeat is as calm as ever. My eyes shift from Tiernan to Riddle, who doesn't look at me.
     "I need you to come with me," he demands. I arch an eyebrow at him and watch Tiernan shift from one leg to another. He opens his mouth but I decide to speak.
"He can't actually," I say. Riddle averts his gaze and his cold eyes meet mine. I return his cold gaze and my jaw tenses.
     "Well, since I'm incompetent to retrieve some simple ingredients, Tiernan offered to help me since I was injured," I reasoned, looking him dead in the eyes. If looks could kill, I would be dead. In the same manner. 
"She is right," Tiernan confirms. Riddle rolls his eyes and scoffs before stalking off. I make sure that he is out of ear reach before I turn to Tiernan.
"Why are you even friends with him?" I question with a scowl. He scoffs before he lets out a sigh.
     "We are not exactly friends," he says. "I don't know what he is. The leader of our group or something. I hold respect for him, don't get me wrong — I arch an eyebrow — but he is a tad cold and emotionless."
     "A tad?" I question as if he has gone mental. "A tad? There is zero emotion in that boy." The corners of his mouth curl into a small smile and huffs a chuckle.
     "It is because he is created under a love potion," he reasons.
     He is conceived under a love potion?
     Creases form on my forehead. "Which is why he cannot feel love."
     "How interesting," I reply, saving that information for a later occasion.
     "You don't know this from me, alright?" he questions. He is afraid of him. I nod, however, I do know this information.
"Is he that cruel?" I question. "As cruel as students tend to describe him?" He purses his lips as he thinks about his answer.
     "He is cold, that's for sure. I can say that he is cruel because he wouldn't have to think twice to use the cruciatus curse if that is what you are meaning to ask," he answers.
     "So, he doesn't hesitate to use any of the unforgivable curses?" I continue. Tiernan's answer makes me worry.
     "He doesn't hesitate."
     "How thoughtful of him."