𝐇𝐚𝐥𝐟-𝐁𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐝

Patience And Decisions

Rewritten

Caring was not an advantage.

That's what he taught her. That's the only thing he taught her.

Aurora the Creature had no choice but to abide by this rule for most of her life, and it took her some time to overcome it. She defied his word, as gritty and brutal as it was.

Aurora cared, she cared about a reckless, sodding, idiot. Someone foolish enough to pour his heart over a letter and send it to her filled with highly confidential information, that could be very dangerous in the wrong hands.

The letter rested limply in her hands, pressed against her stomach as she laid down in the field. Her eyes were trained on the sky, vague and unfocused as she thought over his words, the ones he no doubt had written to her without truly realizing how dangerous they were. Words that spoke of his loneliness and isolation and his mistrust towards himself and his actions.

There was one overarching theme to the entire letter. Fear. Harry was afraid---of himself, of Voldemort's resurrection and Albus' neglect and of his own anger. The things it made him do.

Hermione was afraid for him, she realized, and Hermione would never let Harry contact her, or heaven forbid, write in his letter herself unless she was truly, deeply, unequivocally scared for him. She knew how much the Order valued their privacy and secrecy and yet she still let Harry send this letter---this very informative letter---to her. Because, to her and Aurora's dismay, she was afraid for Harry.

The owl wouldn't leave, he kept pecking at her hand and hooting at her. Aurora guessed this was because Harry instructed the owl not to come back without a letter. Aurora rose up and sighed, the letter tight in her grip as she made her way back to the tent she was staying in, the owl flying alongside her.

Tabitha was instructing some women near Aurora's tent, and she came over when she caught sight of her.

"A letter from home, my Lady?" The utterly oblivious Tabitha asked, who had no idea of Aurora's purpose in the clan or the war that was bubbling in the Wizarding world.

Aurora's face was blank as Alyosha glanced suspiciously at the pages in her hand.

"I need paper, and ink. As quick as possible." Well done, her voice was calm and cool, holding no sign of the thoughts running amok in her head.

Tabitha nodded and quickly detached herself from her son's side, Alyosha's gaze following her until she disappeared into a tent then immediately refocusing on Aurora.

"Letters don't usually come to the clans."

"I wonder why." Aurora muttered sarcastically, brushing past him into her tent and shrugging off her jacket. Alyosha confusedly held open the flap of the tent so the owl could fly in after her.

Tabitha returned with a small wooden box, taking station at the desk table Aurora had in her tent and then starting to take out ink and parchment and quills whilst Aurora reread the letter. She brought the parchment up to her nose and inhaled, her nose caught the faint whiff of Harry's scent that Aurora had taken an entire night to memorize whilst his lips had been busy with her neck.

Tabitha looked on the verge of asking something but thought better of it when Aurora strode over to her with an overwhelming air of authority and glanced over the stuff she brought.