Can HP Diary Help Me Pass NEWTs?

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It was actually a shallow kiss, too short to be worth mentioning, Riddle knew very well.

The moment his lips touched, he hesitated, which he did not deny.If he had to get to the bottom of it, maybe he would admit that he had some emotions similar to fear—although Riddle preferred to call it vigilance.

All in all, out of unspeakable vigilance and possible panic, he tried his best to calmly kiss her lips, and then forced himself to calmly raise his head, ending this short, impulsive kiss that should not have happened, Pretend that's what he meant.

No one noticed anything was wrong, kissing in public was already exciting enough for them, the prolonged screaming and booing almost brought down the roof of the auditorium, and even attracted the professors who left early to see what happened.

Only Pauline, only she, looked at him with that half-smile, provocative look in that situation, and she knew everything, including his hesitation and retreat, his pretended calmness and sternness, And that's exactly what she meant.

She just wanted him to know that she knew.

For a moment, Riddle could hardly contain his emotions, he almost grabbed her again, kissed her hard, let her know that she was not in control of everything, let alone play him as she wanted-no one could. .He's desperate to prove her wrong, and he's not afraid to be intimate with people, nor can he be, he's just dismissive, no one deserves his intimacy—in fact, alienation And fear can get better results.

He had to make her understand that.

But Riddle forced himself to forget about this stupid urge.

He stood there expressionless, trying to resist the urge to reach into his pocket and rub his wand, which was the choice he was most familiar with and trusted.But he knew it would do no good to Pauline, it would only serve as another proof of his incompetence, and make him the butt of her malicious success.

In front of her, he had to use another way to earn the dignity that was rightfully his, a way that couldn't use a wand.

After looking at each other briefly, it was Pauline who laughed first.

"You really surprised me." She said ambiguously, and took the lead in pulling out the chair and sitting down, ending the farce calmly and naturally, and taking the lead in breakfast, just like every ordinary morning she used to.

This is a temporary truce.

For a brief moment, Riddle just stood there, staring at her, and it was hard even for him to tell what he was thinking.

He finally sat down with her and passed the short and long breakfast quietly, like every ordinary morning.

But this wasn't any ordinary morning after all, Riddle knew that.

In the following one or two months, he recalled that short but tasted kiss countless times intentionally or unintentionally, and he admitted that his performance at that time did not satisfy him.

He admitted that he wasn't as strong as he expected in some ways, considering how many times he had despised idiots who couldn't control their emotions and stupid impulses, until the same stupidity happened to him himself.

Riddle had to admit that ever since Pauline Sweet squeezed into his life forcefully, piercing his illusion of ease countless times sharply and ruthlessly, trampling his ego and arrogance with force, he did regard her as another Others exist differently.

His desire to conquer her, as she had been trying to do to him, was unquestionable and undeniable.

But how to treat her, this is another question that Riddle can't decide.

He decided to watch her reactions so he could ascertain his own, but for the next month or two Pauline didn't respond.

She almost seemed to have lost all interest in him, and she rarely played with him maliciously like before, and she didn't have any overly intimate actions. If it wasn't for doing experiments together in the Room of Requirement every night, their relationship would even seem to be back to normal. Before the third grade.

This almost made Riddle have the urge to grab her to ask for clarification, or do something else, in short, it's not as weird as it is now.

But too many experiences had made him wary, and if it was Pauline's trick again, he swore he would never take the bait.

Until the second Friday in February 1941, they completed a new project again. Of course Pauline pointed to the weakened version of Felicia they had just researched and said, "I want this."

This is another wonderful idea proposed by her. In the past two months, they have studied several similar subjects together. Sometimes Riddle would also propose ideas, but more often, they were studying Pauline's almost endless inspiration.

She was a genius, Riddle had to admit it.

"You want it." Riddle repeated softly, and he admitted that he was surprised to hear her say that, because before they shared the results, Pauline had never put forward any unfair conditions, which made her suddenly unreasonable request become unusual.Riddle chewed the words cautiously, his eyes flicking back and forth across her face, trying to figure out her real intentions.

But in Pauline's face he found nothing but what should be.

"Then why?" said Riddle slowly, looking closely at her as if weighing her intentions. "What will you give me in exchange, Pauline?"

Pauline smiled slightly.

"That depends on what you want from me." She said inexplicably, stepped on the box and sat on the laboratory bench that had just been cleaned up, leaned back on the shelf, and the glassware made some trivial sounds.She sat there, a little taller than Riddle, watching him with interest.

Riddle looked at her cautiously.

Pauline's large, clear, beautiful eyes curved slightly.

Riddle couldn't help noticing her rose-like delicate lips, which were slightly raised, like a silent temptation.He thought of that impulsive morning, that raw kiss that shouldn't have happened.

"What are you thinking?" Pauline said softly.

As if awakened suddenly, Riddle quickly looked away.

He forced himself to keep his eyes elsewhere, but his eyes seemed to have other thoughts, and they wandered aimlessly in the air, and then fell on Pauline's dark and clear pupils again.

"I see," said Pauline softly, gazing at him. "You're thinking about that kiss, aren't you?"

Riddle didn't speak.

"You've never kissed anyone, have you?"

Her voice was as soft as the evening wind blowing through flower petals.

Riddle's expression twitched slightly.

He stared at Pauline intently.

For a while, neither of them spoke, but watched each other closely.

The Room of Responsiveness was extremely quiet, but it seemed that something invisible was slowly flowing past them, and they both felt this undercurrent of tension.

"Your skills are really not good, I'm serious." Pauline said, her eyes lightly caressed his cheek like a light wind, "but I didn't have the nerve to tell you that day, mainly because I wanted to impress you. Save face."

Riddle's expression twitched fiercely.

His dark eyes stared at her deeply.

"So..." She said slowly, as softly as the sun kissing a rose, "Do you want to try again?"

Riddle stared at her closely.

His Adam's apple rolled slowly uncontrollably.

Pauline's lips curled up.

Riddle stepped forward abruptly.

Amidst the sound of tinkling glass, he clamped her shoulders recklessly and unfamiliarly, and kissed her lips viciously.A chuckle escaped Pauline's lips, which were sealed again by his kiss.

Her slender arms passed across his chest, wrapping intimately around his shoulders, their chests pressed tightly together, he could feel his violent heartbeat rising and falling with her, almost rushing in his ears like the sound of a drum The ground rang, and his hands subconsciously slid down her waist, tightly wrapping her around her.

Tenderness is the most difficult thing to find in this abrupt kiss. It is fierce, vicious, and extremely mad. It is not so much a kiss as it is a silent contest, an instinctive catharsis, catharsis. Vent the unresolved resentment, malice, longing, fascination, and attraction between them.This kind of intense sharpness and contradiction brought a brand-new experience on the contrary, almost dazzled their minds, and reached the extreme in the secret loss of control.

"Whoa-"

The glassware fell off the shelf and shattered on the floor, making a harsh and unpleasant noise.

They finally ended the kiss.

Pauline propped her elbows on Riddle's chest.

They were gasping for breath, Riddle's arm was not lightly wrapped around her waist, and their short breaths were intertwined, making the cold laboratory seem like a steaming fireplace everywhere. Their cheeks were blush. Halo.

Pauline noticed that there was a small wound on the corner of his lip, and faint blood oozes out, bright and conspicuous.

She lightly licked her lips, a slight pain and a faint smell of blood smeared along the tip of her tongue, Riddle stared at her closely, his dark pupils suddenly became darker, he hugged her The hand around Pauline's waist unconsciously tightened again.

She smiled slightly.

"Does it hurt?" Pauline stretched out her hand and gently stroked his lips, her tone was as ethereal as the wind.

Riddle didn't speak.

His pupils were dark and gloomy, he stared at her unblinkingly, and circled her even harder.

Pauline laughed again.

She raised her hands and stroked Riddle's cheek—he was startled slightly, and subconsciously stiffened. Pauline gently held his cheek, and slowly approached, under his burning gaze, gently Kissed the corner of his lips.

A quiet, shallow, gentle kiss that has nothing to do with desire.

Riddle's Adam's apple rolled violently, and he reached out to hold her wrist hastily, but she dodged lightly, easily walked away from him, and walked to the front of the experiment table, as if deliberately letting him see clearly, Very naturally, she stuffed the bottle of the weakened version of Felicia Felix into her pocket.

He glared at her viciously, but only got a chuckle.

"The curfew will be in five minutes." Pauline walked to the door, stopped, and turned her head. "Go back early and avoid the administrator." She paused as she said.

"Finally, sweet dreams," said Pauline softly, "Tom."

After she finished speaking, she opened the door and disappeared into the "click" of the door closing.

The author has something to say:

I won’t write BE anymore, the 1940 article will end after graduation, since it’s sweet, it’s sweet to the end.

And the Hogwarts story, let's end at Hogwarts.

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Look at this motionless collection, the clicks that fall off the cliff, I really want to know how I wrote the data of the original V text for free fans (sigh)