Once her Professor opened the door, it was Auroras first instinct to bolt right into the room and find herself the best spot in the class, but her mannerisms prevented her from committing such a thoughtless and selfish act. She took one immediate step, but before taking another she thought of her mother, how she was raised, her father, her perfect brothers hence the perfect expectations set of her.
She took a step back. She spun to whoever was behind her and presented them with a polite grin, dimples evident at the such strong force of her smile. She turned her head to face Adrian Pucey. She had only spoken to him once, it was so brief she didn't remember their interaction.
"Pucey." She greeted, "After you." With a slight tilt of her head to represent respect, she cleared a slight path for him to make through. He turned to his friends in slight confusion before he was hit with the revelation that he was encountering Aurora Flores. Gryffindor sweetheart. Who would never hurt a fly, so all he did in return was give her a simple thin lipped grin and a slight nod to represent his thanks before continuing forward.
Aurora continued to smile at students who made their way past her. She was beginning to regret her decision to let others pass, because once she let one person through, she couldn't possibly allow herself to block anyone else. She waited and hoped at least someone would kindly let her through, but to no avail.
Daphne, who had passed her, beamed as she walked through the gap between Aurora and the doors, but no one else paid attention to the sweet brunette, who had gone out of her way to allow others through. Finally, it was only Aurora, she rolled her eyes at her pushover behaviour but strolled in with no hesitation regardless.
Once she passed the threshold, and into the classroom, she sighed. The seat she had been hopeful to occupy was taken by another student. In fact any other seat she had wanted to sit at was taken. She would have to adjust to spending her year at the back of the classroom. She was going to have difficulties seeing, but would rather squint like a bat rather than request to move because it was an 'inconvenience to her'.
So she lazily walked to her new seat, her head lolled back in frustration, the seats were permanent, unless professor Snape requested for a seating change. Her desk was dark oak wood, to match the dark and sinister class room she was currently residing in. Her fingers traced the lines forged on the table, her perfectly natural pink painted nails trailed along the wood.
She continued to do so until the buds of her fingertips met chiseled writing. She squinted her eyes to view two initials 'A+L'. Her brain worked hard to discover who's names the letters represented. Her attention had completely drifted from the front of the room and to the tiny writing in front of her.
Andrea + Lilly, she thought. Her mother and best friend. It could've been anyone, but Aurora believed those initials were specified for the two soul sisters. Who, throughout their school years loved each other ferociously. Aurora also thought that the two had found each other and one day so would she.
The door barged open, it interrupted Rory from the thoughts of her mother. The whole class turned to meet the gaze of Theodore, who had apparently thought it was okay to be late. The professor didn't bother to approach the door. He didn't bother to give a scolding. If it was a Gryffindor who had arrived late the professor would've taken away at least fifth points. All he did was narrow his eyes and tell the young misfit to take a seat, before he continued his lesson.
Theo's eyes scanned the room. His two best friends, Zabini and Pucey had no room at their table for him, they shot him a sorrowful look before looking for a seat for him also. All three at the same moment spotted the only available chair left in the classroom. A nice cozy spot in the corner, right by Aurora Flores.
Theo scoffed at the irony, his two friends snickered at the events. They had both been unaware of Theodore's plans to expose the supposed angel. The boys only thought of Auroras appearance and found it rather adorable and of course, hilarious, that he would be sat next to each other. They were polar opposites.
Aurora Flores was the impersonation of a sweet divinity, a darling saint, a walking flower. She was the definition of the colour yellow. She lacked any flaws and always held a cheery attitude. She was perfect.
Nott on the other hand was a Vicious boy. He wasn't evil. Not at all, but he lacked the ability to express emotions to anyone other than his most trusted individuals. He also lacked the ability to be heartwarming in any way. He wasn't a darkened soul, but rather a broken one. Damned to never share his true feelings. Unable to share them, on some occasions, even to himself.
He begrudgingly stomped over to her. His friends cackled louder at the similarities he had been sharing with a toddler. Distain was his automatic response, but as he thought about it, it was an opportunity. An opportunity to speak to her. To alienate her. To make her angry. He smirked at his scheme.
He pulled out the matching chair and threw his bag to rest on the table leg. Then he flopped onto his seat like a sack of potatoes. She squinted her eyes at his careless attitude. She stared from the corner of her eyes to attempt to figure him out. He obviously had no care for his manners, or he wouldn't have openly touched her face without her consent. It angered her that he felt he automatically had permission because of his pretty face. He knew he was handsome, and she knew he knew.
So she crossed her arms over her chest and hugged lightly, attempting to bring her attention back to the classroom matters.
"You look like a toddler, Flores." He spoke. His cockiness was overwhelming. "Arms crossed, face all pouty." He then imitated her actions in an exaggerated manner.
"Like you can talk." Was all that she said. A quick jolt of her eyebrows and a quick, very fake smile.
"Ah, feisty again," he thought aloud. Perfect. He was going to tease her, piss her off. He smirked yet again. To Aurora, it felt like the millionth time she had seen him give that bloody smirk. Oh how she wished to slap it off him.
"Nope, just paying attention to the class." She turned to face him again. Another fake smile. But she genuinely attempted to make it seem real this time. He didn't buy it.
He frowned. Her fiery mood had begun to dwindle. He silently scolded himself for allowing such a perfect moment for exposing her to slip between his fingers. A room full of students, gossipy Gryffindor girls sat in front of them, the rest of the Slytherins in his year. Damnit.
He was going to have to attack with more strength, tenfold, than what he had been approaching her with. She was good. Good at hiding her emotions. Perhaps he was a hypocrite, because he too hid his emotions. He didn't like her. That was reason enough, wasn't it?
He wasn't paying attention to the class anymore, but she was. Of course she had to be so perfect. She could multitask. She could speak and listen, while he had to catch up on the work after their little conversation. It infuriated him. Why was he so angry? It was so peculiar. He had been peeved before but rarely like this. It angered him again that she had such a hold on him. She would talk and all he could do was feel a sudden urge to grip her throat and squeeze the truthful, and most certainly vulgar, words that she was busting to say.
But he couldn't do that. No. He had to be careful with this. Manipulation was a game, but it had to be played precisely. If he added too little pressure he wouldn't receive results, but if he applied too much the consequences would lose him the game. Physiological warfare was exactly like walking the tightrope, it required balance, and he was all the more happy to comply.
If it meant revealing her true colours he would stoop to almost anything. This also confused him. Sure, he liked a little emotional tormenting every once and a while, but never anything to the extent of this. Did he really despise her that much? Apparently.
So while Aurora Flores focused on the board and writing notes, with her bloody perfect writing, he gazed at her. Eyes narrowed, head tilted to the side as he analyzed her. He thought deeper into his diagnosis for her. Clearly she was a fake, who wanted to be loved, but why fight so hard for something she already possessed? He was stumped. Utterly mind blank when he thought of the word why.
Why?
Why did she infuriate him? He didn't know.
Why was he so desperate to hurt her? He didn't know.
Why did she act this way? He didn't know.
Why did she get to be happy and he didn't? Surprise, he didn't know.
He sighed once again and turned to face the front, there he had finally begun to attempt to listen to the class. He rested his elbows on the table and rubbed his eyes, before he began scribbling too. It angered him how messy his writing was to hers.
The class was over. Thank goodness, she thought. She practically skipped out of the room. Thankful to be free of the 'breath of fresh air' that is Theodore Nott. She was currently waltzing her way to her common room, eager to escape the dark, yet beautiful, presence of the dungeons.
Head held high, a smile shared with anyone and everyone passing her, she progressed back to her Houses abode. The house of the brave and just.
Her joyful attitude was completely disintegrated by the atmosphere she had walked into. In her familiar common room she found Harry, Hermione and Ron all wearing matching frowns, as they lowly chatted.
She figured lightening their mood would be best, so she snuck up from behind ruffled each of their heads, receiving the same groans and quick attempts to fix their hair from all of them, and then threw herself to sit between Harry and Hermione. Her arms slung over both of their shoulders and she crossed her legs, turning her head repeatedly. She beamed at all three of them. Usually they could never help but smile back but something was preventing them from doing so.
Her bright expression formed into one of deep concern. "You guys okay?" She questioned. She was genuine. She cared about her true friends a lot.
"Umbridge is being a real tosser." Was all Ron said. Hermione scowled at his vulgar response before turning to Rory and nodding lightly.
"Care to explain?" They had been oddly quiet, it was ever so peculiar for them to do so.
"She's not letting us practice magic." Harry began. "She's so consistent on denying the return of Voldemort, it's almost as though she thinks I killed Cedric." He averted his full attention from the fire to Rory. "And now, I've got bloody detention."
She frowned at his words. Hermione and Ron were clueless as to how Rory could always make Harry break from his shell. She could do so with all of them, it was a talent none other possessed.
"I haven't had her yet, but she sounds horrid." Was all Aurora could think to say.
"Oh trust me. She is." The raven haired wizard seethed. "Now if you'll excuse me, I've got a booking for a nice hour of detention I need to attend." She almost snickered at his sass but refrained from doing so.
He raised from his chair and stomped off. She lightly giggled at him, unable to stop until she received a playful slap of the arm from Hermione.
"He's a bloody drama queen, Mione. How can you not laugh?" She shot a glare at her.
"Because this is a serious situation." But Rory didn't miss the slight quirk upwards of the witch's lips at Aurora's previous statement. Behind the bushy haired girl, Ron was attempting to hold in his own laughter from erupting.
The three chatted and laughed until Hermione excused herself to prepare for bed, nearly forty five minutes later. It was only Ron and Rory now.
"When are you planning on asking Mione out?" Rory asked, a causal effect to her words.
It terrified the red head. "Uh. What? What do you mean? Hermione? No way." He hurriedly denied. Face pink, mouth turned in fake disgust.
"Drop the act Carrot tops, you like her, and she obviously likes you, ask her out already." He turned to look at her, slight hope shone through his eyes at Rory's confession.
"No, not Mione. She'd rather grow back her old rabbit teeth, than go out with me." His attention back to the fire, eager to ignore Auroras obvious hints.
All Rory did was sigh in defeat before focusing on the fire also. No more than five minutes later did Ron retreat to his dorm. She sat alone, confident to wait until Harry would arrive back. The hour was up, but his walk back would be lengthy, she reasoned for his late return.
Being alone was something Aurora had begun to loath. When alone with her thoughts, her mind would drift to her family. It was a painful topic.
Thankfully the portrait door swung right open, revealing none other than the boy who lived, utterly exhausted. She watched as he fought the urge to faint right there. Rory shot right up to assist him.
They both sat by each other facing the dancing flames. "What was your punishment?" She asked warily, worried she would accidentally pluck at a nerve.
"Oh just lines." He shrugged, attempting to play it off. She saw right through him.
"Then why are you ghostly white?" She interrogated the younger boy. He only hummed, attempting to play it dumb. She knew something happened, but what?
She turned to face him, urging him to repeat the act. She quickly grasped both of his hands in an act of comfort. In response he immediately attempted to retract his arms from her, but her grip was firm. Her eyes traveled to the back of his hands. To the girls horror, blood oozed from the multiple gashes on him. Her eyes widened to be the size of coins. She grasped his bleeding wounds.
With no hesitation she grasped at her wand and fired healing spells at his wrists. The blood retreated back into his skin as it closed. Unfortunately, Aurora hadn't gotten to the cuts in time to prevent scarring. His hand still grasped in hers, she brought it up to her lips and lightly pecked his hand. She gave him a true smile that reflected all of the sisterly love she had researched for him. She returned the gesture. They were both surprisingly genuine.
They didn't speak much that night. Only the bare minimum. She asked how he had received the brand that recited 'I must not tell lies' and he told her about the awful quill that extracted the blood of its user to write with. She hugged him tightly as he told her.
Harry Potter would normally shrug off anyone who had tried to comfort him with a hug. Too proud and stubborn, but he made exceptions for Aurora. He made exceptions for his big sister.