Aurora liked to think of her life as one that, unlike seemingly everybody else nowadays, she did not want to re-live.
Sometimes, when she's lying awake at night, she likes to think that the fates, or God or whoever it was that planned out peoples li...
TW: Dark stuff. Blood, sharp objects, degrading thoughts. Please don't read if self-harm triggers you, or if you find anything even relating to intrusive thoughts triggering. Summary at the end.
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The Gryffindors basked in their newfound glory for an entire week - the weather was getting better, and all anybody really felt like doing was relaxing by the lake with a jug of iced pumpkin juice; but they couldn't because the exams were nearing.
Once again, the castle was engulfed in a studious haze that could only be brought along by the darkening shadow of the incoming testing season; the Library was full almost all day, and students were sitting in the corridors between classes, attempting to stuff any last minute knowledge into their already overflowing heads.
The teachers were now handing out study guides instead of essays, and all their lessons consisted of was revision. It was exhausting - the perfect distraction.
Ever since the quidditch final, Aurora had hardly uttered a word to anybody; she attended all her classes, spent every free period tucked away in the library and spent her evenings with a book pressed onto her lap - anything to keep her mind from wandering to bad places.
She didn't know why it bothered her so much; it wasn't like she and her father ever had anything - for all she knew he barely knew of her existence, either that or he was a pretty damn good actor. She supposed it was just shock. She hadn't known he was there - what if he had seen her? Lee had said her name quite a few times, and she had quite an embarrassing accident midway through the match. Did he even notice her? If he did, he must of been disappointed - she had, after all, attempted to behead his godson. In her offense, his head needed to be deflated anyway. She was doing him a favor.
She wondered if he had really forgotten about her. She had been stood right in front of him, and he had barged past her as if she was completely unimportant; was she not good enough? Maybe it was the scars - maybe he couldn't recognize her? Was she not popular enough? Pretty enough? Had Lupin told him that she had a habit of skipping classes - had he told her about how she couldn't even cast an incorporeal patronus?
Did he know about her addiction to nicotine? Or about the incident at the party? Had Lupin told him about her skinny frame and tattered clothing - about her rebellious makeup and inability to take shit from others. Did he find out about that time she had beaten Malfoy up - Merlin, was he angry about her hurting her cousin?
Maybe she just wasn't as smart as he hoped her to be - she was top of the class in transfiguration, DADA, Herbology and Astronomy, but maybe he wanted her to be good at potions? Did he give her up because she was a disappointment - could he see what she was going to become?
Perhaps it was the fame - Harry was famous, loved and spoiled. Aurora was quiet, scarred and completely ignored. She had nothing, and had to write to Professor Snape in August because she couldn't afford her school books - she looked bland and blemished, had spotty skin and under-eye bags. She had grown up immersed in drugs and gangs and independency - being told time and time again not to trust adults, that she didn't need parents to live comfortably; Potter had grown up in a loving household with two parents, a godfather, a gazillion uncles and aunts and three meals a day.
