A chaotic tale of a young girl surrounded by orphans, dark wizards, and irresponsibility!
A thrilling AU in which Tom Riddle simply cannot get rid of the pestering presence that is Aurora whatever-her-last-name-is.
In which Aurora makes it her life...
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As the days passed by, the once unbreakable freezing ice that had surrounded the magnificent school of magic had started to thaw. The patches of grass amongst the white snow had grown more and more, and before the many magical students could blink, spring was in session. The whomping willow (which still had a black burn mark from lightning,) started to grow leaves once again. The students that had class outside would start the lesson wearing a jacket, and by the time it was over their jackets were put back into their bags as the sun beat down upon them.
It had been a solid month since the absolute shit-show of a meeting with Headmaster Dumbledore and herself. The day after the incident, Aurora woke up to none other than Tom Riddle abruptly shaking her awake. She kept having the strangest dreams, but never remembering them when she woke. Aurora also gained this odd sort of feeling of fluttering in her abdomen everyday, as the school year drew closer and closer to ending.
Tom had thankfully kept his word on helping her with everything— they had spent hours on end in his diary sitting at the Slytherin table just to complete the monstrous pile of homework. He had acted very annoyed with her at the time, but she could tell that a small part of him enjoyed bossing her around. Aurora found it to be a little endearing, reminding her of her early childhood with the angsty sixteen year old.
Aurora had just picked up a book for Quirrill from the library— she'd become his mini servant over these past slow weeks. The Professor was constantly making her run endless pointless errands for his task to his "Lord". He'd taken to speaking with her in parseltounge, saying that she's "rusty," she had no idea how a language she didn't even know she could even speak could be rusty, but found there was really no point in arguing with the man.
As she walked back to Quirrell's office on that fine Sunday, she bumped into Ron and Harry as she was exiting the library. She nodded awkwardly at them and went to continue her tedious walk, until Ron's clammy freckled hand suddenly shot out onto her shoulder to stop her.
"Rory, wait," Ron pleaded.
She paused, her multicolored eyes gazing at the floor, too awkward to make eye contact with the two boys. Still looking at her shoes, she said, "Yes?"
"Why'd you stop talking to us?" Harry asked, sounding slightly hurt, "Is it because of Hermione?"
Her almond eyes flicked up to meet his very own forest green eyes at last, and she replied, "No, it isn't. I'm not that controlling— and besides, I've just been busy so I apologize for that. Is there anything you guys need?" Truthfully, she couldn't refrain from feeling incredibly guilty when faced with Harry Potter. She was literally working with an evil Professor to bring back his attempted murderer, blackmailed or not.
When she thought about it, however, as bad as it sounds, she would rather have Tom than Harry— and that's essentially what it came down to. If she refused, Tom's and her secret would be out and Dumbledore most likely would get rid of her best friend. She liked Harry, she really did, but it was almost nothing compared to her and Tom.
