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...
Platform 9 3/4 was, in simpler terms, alive. Every witch and wizard Aurora pushed past was bursting with a sort of static electricity, which fizzed and bubbled through their veins like battery acid. Magic was thick and syrupy in the air, hanging like fog on a marshy autumns day. In all honesty, Aurora preferred the muggle side of the platform; where it was quieter and the air didn't give her goose bumps. Muggles were strange like that.
Aurora weaved her way carefully through the crowds of tearful mothers and proud fathers, careful not to provoke the green eyed monster that lurked in the shadows, and finally, breathing heavily, managed to drag her second hand trunk into an empty carriage. Her muscles felt like knotted rope, her head throbbed painfully, and she was either too hot or too cold; purple smudges were painted under her eyes, and her skin was stretched uncomfortably tight over her face. She looked frail and malnourished, dangerously pale and obviously unwell, huddled up in the corner of her compartment. She plonked her stuff on the seat besides her, not bothering to lift it into the over head compartment. The previous moon had been a rough one, and it had completely drained her energy away.
Shivering, Aurora pulled out her battered copy of The Hobbit, curling up even further into herself. Smiling contently, she flicked through to the right page and allowed the consistent rumbling of the engine to lull her gently into a deep and undisturbed slumber.
Aurora awoke to a hushed silence. The air was dead, no magic and childlike excitement weighing it down, it was just - still. Disturbingly so. Blinking back her previous drowsiness she took note of the sudden temperature drop, and as she opened her eyes she was startled to find that a thick layer of frost had settled itself on the windows, and her shallow breathes were now visible. The compartment was pitch black, though still apparently empty, and a soft cracking sound echoed from some place beneath her - as if the train was disintegrating (which she severely hoped it wasn't). They couldn't have broken down, no, it was a magical train, so what in Merlins' name was going on?
Making up her mind, Aurora went to stand, but it seemed like fate had other plans. The door creaked open slowly, and a skeletal hand wrapped itself around it's interior side. It was decayed and rotten, with great black welts edged into its skin - like it had been dug up directly from it's grave. Aurora felt suddenly very empty, like a piece of her soul was missing. The creature, which Aurora had now concluded was a dementor, entered the compartment steadily; its black cloak billowing behind it as if trapped in a rather violent gust of wind. The Dementor reached a grimy hand to its hood, but Aurora didn't know what happened next, for a great bright light exploded from down the corridor, and in a split second the dementor had vanished.
Stunned and exhausted she collapsed back into her seat, shaking and covered in a cold sweat. A distant screaming echoed in her ears, and she was shivering violently, her fingertips a blood- red colour from the cold. The compartment began to warm, gradually, but the screaming didn't stop - not until the train pulled into Hogsmeade station about ten minutes afterwards.
The students flocked out of their compartments, talking animatedly about what had happened and rushing collectively to the carriages. Aurora, as per usual, waited until the last of the older students had hurried off before heaving herself out of her chair. She limped slowly to the last carriage, pleased to find that it was empty, and settled herself in her seat, staring fixedly out of the window as the Threstrals pulled her up the path and through the gate. She shuddered as she passed two rather tall pillars, which were guarded by a couple of dementors, not wanting to hear that dreadful screaming throughout the feast, or ever again really.
The night was cloudy and unclear, and it was due to rain over the next couple of days; the moon was waning, and although it wasn't full, she still felt that unmistakable pull towards it. She grimaced and looked away, concentrating on the Threstrals.
The sorting had already begun when she arrived, and she slipped into the Great Hall when 'Burby, Juna' was sorted into Ravenclaw. Aurora hurried over to the Slytherin table unheard, and she nodded slightly at her house-mates as she took her usual seat at the very end of the table. The sorting and feast past quickly, Aurora grazing and picking at the food that appeared at the table, and Dumbledores speech was a bore, as it usually was. Honestly, when would the old pisshead retire?
She spaced out again on her way back to her dormitory, forgetting completely to go to the hospital wing to get a pepper up potion. She was itching for a cigarette, and all she wanted to do was curl up in bed with the hangings drawn with her book, where she could finally be completely undisturbed.
"Miss Black" She groaned, turning around absentmindedly to find Professor McGonagall marching down the corridor towards her, looking just as pristine and sharp as ever. She smiled gently at the younger girl, whom she'd always had a soft spot for.
"Professor Minnie! Good summer?" Aurora grinned back, trying to sound like she was engaged in the confrontation. McGonagall sighed at the nickname, attempting to sound as if she hated it - but suppressing a grin all the same.
"Yes, thank you Miss Black. Madam Promfrey sent me - she wishes to meet you in the hospital wing. It seems that, for the fifth year standing, you have forgotten to attend your obligatory checkup." Aurora smiled as the elder woman raised an eyebrow.
"Oh, thank you Professor - I forgot about that." She grinned sheepishly, "Sorry"
"Nothing to apologise for, Aurora. Now, come along, I'm supposed to accompany you. We wouldn't want you to disappear on the way up there, would we?" Aurora sighed, clutching her side and concluding that she probably wouldn't get any reading done tonight. McGonagall lead her briskly through the castle, either not noticing or pretending not to notice the younger girls stiff posture and heavy limp, which Aurora was thankful for. She really didn't want to be bombarded with questions. Though she really, really wanted a cigarette.
Poppy Pomfrey was stood promptly besides the door when Aurora arrived, and quickly pounced on the poor girl and practically dragged her over to a bed.
"Sit" she said sternly, "You forgot, Miss Black. Again."
"Sorry, Poppy - my mind was elsewhere." Poppy's expression softened at this - Aurora had always been one to let her imagination run wild, it was a wonder that she wasn't placed in Ravenclaw.
"That's quite alright deary." She started casting all sorts of spells wordlessly, whilst simultaneously rummaging hurriedly through a trunk of potions she had at her feet, "Feeling alright? Oh you're all clammy, well that won't do. Yes, I'll give you a dreamless sleep for that, and perhaps a pepper up would do you good..." She continued to ramble to herself, occasionally pressing a hand to Auroras forehead to check for a fever. Aurora explained about the dementors, to which the nurse tutted and muttered something along the lines of 'delicate' and 'those Black family dramatics'.
Finally, after about an hour of being fussed over by Poppy Pomfrey, Aurora was dismissed and quickly hurried down to the dungeons, arms laden with potions. Her dormitory was silent when she arrived, which she was grateful for; setting down the potions on her bed side table, Aurora quickly changed out of her school robes and climbed into bed. She'd finish her book in the morning, but her urge for a cigarette had not dimmed over the time in the hospital wing, and so she quickly snatched one from her trunk and lit it wandlessly.
She took a drag, relaxing almost instantly. She felt her heart beat slow, and for the first time since arriving at Kings Cross at half past ten that morning Aurora felt truly calm.
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