Oops. "Sorry, professor." she muttered. This always happened to Dem. She gets so excited about finding the soul number, or any other number for that matter, she tends to forget little details. "Ok lets try this again." she said to herself.
Hmmm....oddly (and luckily) enough, his soul number was still the same. "Atleast I get to keep my old dialisis of his number." she smiled and attatched the two peices of parchment together.

Biting her lip, Wesley looked down at her paper, then at the textbook, then back again. Dipping her quill in ink, she started scratching out her work on a clean piece of parchment.

After consulting the book and double checking her work, Wesley turned to the page on soul numbers, re-reading the part on how to figure out a soul number. The textbook said to use your full first, middle, and last name. That can't be right, the first year thought to herself, Heathcote Barbary is only the first and last name. Unless Barbary is his middle? Or he doesn't have a last name??, Chewing on her bottom lip, Wesley worried that maybe she hadn't heard it right. Maybe she hadn't heard the middle name. Or the last name. Or...she didn't know!

Halfway into raising her hand to ask, the small girl dropped it, scared of asking a stupid question. Twisting her hands and biting her lip, the Hufflepuff couldn't help but feel like a absolute and complete failure.

But if I don't ask, then she'll come up and ask me why I don't have it right on my paper. But if I DO ask, then she'll still be angry. I don't want the professor to hate me...oh! What should I do? Think Wesley. Think! Maybe...maybe I could see what Jake's written, and if he has the missing name...no! No! That would be cheating. Cheating is bad! And if I whisper to ask someone for help, then I'll get in trouble for talking...oh dear! I'm in such trouble...

Starting to panic, Wesley felt tears pricking her eyes. She didn't want to get in trouble. She didn't want the teacher to hate her.

Most of all, she didn't know what to do.

Demetria raised her hand. "Professor, is it possible for you soul number, or any number for that matter, to be wrong?" she asked. "I mean, I don't know much about The Weird Sisters, but it's kind of odd that someone with a soul number of 8 would choose to be the rhythm guitar player in a band even if he did schedule everything." she said. "Plus, usually when people are in a famous band they go on tour and travel together and it doesn't seem like Heathcote Barbary would enjoy or want to do something like that."

Professor Shackleton contemplated Demetria's question carefully before replying, "That is a matter of debate and, oftentimes, contention in the field of Arithmancy. When you approach this subject, you have to accept the fact that Arithmancy, though based on thousands of years of experience and research, is not an exact science. Human beings are incredibly complex and multifaceted, and Arithmancy is no more than an attempt to identify and explore some of the more visible aspects. There are countless variables that are too subtle and too hidden to be recognized. Therefore, it is simply not possible for a Arithmancer to be right 100 percent of the time. But that doesn't mean that the number is wrong - it may just mean that we, as evaluators of the number, are interpreting it incorrectly."


Regaining the attention of the class once more, Professor Shackleton explained, "I think we've gotten a good idea of what the Soul Number means, but what about the Personality Number? What does it tell us?"

Demetria raised her hand. Why was she always the one answering questions? :P "The personality number is an element of the Core that describes what others remember about you after a first encounter - the "outer you" or "external image." This number describes how others view you and invites you to see yourself as others see you." she read from her textbook. "So it's sort of like a first impression, right?" she asked.

Demetria raised her hand (again!) "To calculate it, it's similiar to calculating the soul number only instead of vowels you use the consonents." she explained. Merlin, she was on a role!

Water began seeping through the floor and starting to flood the arithmancy class.

Personality number? Grace was searching for it when the other girl answered. She made a face that she had missed the chance. But how to calculate? Now, she wanted to beat that Gryffindork.

"Again based on the chart, we use the consonents of our birth name. Decide each name seperately and add the reduced sums of each name and reduce it again." the little Slytherin said qucikly from her memory.

She was again enjoying the class when--

Not knowing what she was doing, Grace quickly got up on her chair, her face white as a sheet. "Water!" she shrieked, unable to talk furthermore. Water again, her worst nightmare in this school. The reason she was leaving. She quickly casted a 'Impervius!' and turned to professor, waiting for her to save them!

Demetria was busy copying her notes when she noticed her feet getting wet. Before she knew it, the cold, dirty water was up to her knees. "PROFESSOR!" she shrieked. A sudden realization came to her. There were no prefects or older students in the class. She was one of the oldest know. Oh no! During all of the other floodings there were prefects to take care of it. Now, no one but the professor.

Oh no Ash thought I didn't wanna have to deal with the water again
"Professor, uhhh don't you think that we should start wrapping it up? Ash said pulling her feet up onto her chair

Herminny was beginning to get a bit annoyed with all the flooding. It seemed another classroom would be under shortly and just how much longer before the whole school was under Herminny thought, it just seemed where things were gonna end up.

Flipping through her textbook to get to the right page, Wesley's elbow bumped her quill, sending it over the desks edge. Scooting her chair back, the first year bended over to pick up her writing utensil and saw...

water.

Not again. Not again. Not again, she thought feverishly, panic beginning to well in her and instincts telling her to bolt.

The tiny girl turned to her professor for directions, eyes wide with fear.