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...
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December was always a strange time of year for Aurora. She loved the contrast between the warmth of the fire and the dreadful weather, cherished her time alone and enjoyed her and Tinky's usual Kitchen visits - but she was lonely. Every year she would watch as hordes of students stampeded towards Hogsmeade station, laughing merrily in a carefree manner that Aurora was envious of. Aurora was usually one of the only Slytherins to stay at Hogwarts during the Christmas period, and though she enjoyed it, that emptiness she had once felt had now festered into a constant reminder of what she couldn't have.
This year, however, hardly anybody wanted to return home. News of the Yule ball had spread like wildfire, and the entire student body were practically buzzing with excitement; the boys were nervously hopping from foot to foot as they watched groups of chattering teens from afar, trembling with poorly concealed nervous energy, whereas the girls were stalking the hallways with their chins held high and teasing smirks painted upon their soft lips.
Aurora herself had been bombarded with what must have been dozens of invitations to the ball, from girls and boys alike. She felt horrible turning them all down, but in a way it offered her some satisfaction, knowing that for once in her life she was one being looked up to, and not down upon. Silas too had had his fair share of run-ins, Aurora almost felt bad for him when a fourth year Hufflepuff had asked him out, almost. His face was too funny for her to be completely serious.
Aurora was currently hiding in the Library, holed up in a little alcove to escape from McGonagall's wrath. The elderly witch had been on a rampage as of recently, hunting out students without partners and lecturing them into asking somebody out just for the dance - she had been pairing the sixth and seventh years almost as vigorously as she took house points, forcing them into her office and practically shovelling shortbread down their throats until they agreed to ask somebody.
Things were even worse for the champions. They were expected to open the dance, and so it was necessary that they have dance partners – the transfiguration professor had clearly taken this to be a challenge, and was watching Aurora and Harry like a hawk; poor Harry had already received three scolding's, two of which were for not knowing how to dance and the other for not having the guts to ask Cho Chang out, who he's been gawping at since last year.
It was no easy feat to pair Aurora up with anybody, but Aurora was sure that McGonagall would somehow manage. The thought scared her.
So, she had taken to spending her free time where nobody could find her, in the muggle literature section of the Library. It was old and forgotten, and barely anybody actually knew of its existence apart from the youngest Black. She would stay in her corner until curfew had begun and then sprint back down to the dungeons before Filch could catch her, and so far she had yet to be caught.
On the last day of term, after herbology, Aurora had retired to the library for the evening, hoping to begin a new book about a wardrobe or something along those lines. She huffed, plopping her bags down by her feet as she stretched to loosen the knots that had formed in her shoulders; the library was fairly empty, with only Viktor Krum sitting by the door reading up something about human transfiguration. The silence was nice, it soothed her aching conscience and somehow relaxed her strained patience, which was wearing thin.
