The summer before your year 7, the summer you turned 18, was sunscreen-slathered and included reading many books by some poolside. That was until you met Tom while on a "girls' trip" with your friends. Its purpose was to enjoy the last real summer you had with them before you'd leave Hogwarts. Now, some of the things you told him, or rather, didn't tell him about yourself during those July nights landed in a sort of morally grey area, you had to admit. But with everything said and done, you did not regret the summer love affair that took place -- you truly believed that you would never see him again after that. But that doesn't mean he didn't mean anything to you, he did, but you had no choice. You had to go back to school in August and you both needed to part ways eventually.

Well, not really.

It was the first day of classes. You'd put on your best uniform and makeup and had even bothered to fix up your hair more than usual before spraying a touch of perfume on and calling it a day. It was all normal: the dread mixed with exhaustion you typically felt on any school morning was ever-so-present, and the thing that kept you going was the fact that you'd get to go back to your dorm and lay down once classes were over. But, of course, nothing good ever stays for very long, as good as school can even get. You walked into your first class, the Defense Against Dark Arts, DADA for short. You put your bag down as you and your peers waited for the new professor to arrive.

You had been looking down at the brand-new textbook on your desk when the professor walked in. But after a few beats of odd silence passed, you looked up to see Tom, there, in a suit, presumably your new DADA professor somehow in hell, looking at you from his desk. He cleared his throat and ripped his gaze away from you, leaving you frozen in your chair with the eyes of your nosy classmates on you.

The man who'd been your first everything, the one who you loved this past summer was now to be your teacher for the entire year. Bloody hell...