Cigarette Daydreams- ꜱɪʀɪᴜꜱ ʙʟᴀᴄᴋꜱ ᴅᴀᴜɢʜᴛᴇʀ

Accidental run-ins

Auroras first term of school was uneventful; classes continued, the days dragged on and the weather worsened the further into autumn they ventured. The typical Scottish weather returned, and the ceiling in the great hall almost always reflected either heavy downpours or dull grey skies; this dimmed the overall mood in the castle, and many of the older students began to feel the pressure presented by their end of year examinations - the fifth years included.

Aurora had noticed that the work load had increased by a significant amount; they were now getting homework in every lesson, and it was near impossible to keep up with. Study groups were established every Monday and Thursday in the library, and professor Flitwick had offered the charms classroom for spell practice. Every night students from all houses were huddled around tables in the library, annotating huge volumes and scribbling down nonsense for their History essays; quills were broken, hands stained and ink pots knocked over - many of the fifth year Ravenclaws had taken to carrying extra stationary, seeing if they could make a business out of all the chaos.  

Fred and George Weasley were acting idiotic as always, charming students bags closed or slipping timed dung bombs into robe pockets, choosing to put off studying until a later date. Aurora had yet to see either of the red-headed masterminds pick up a book, and it was a wonder that they were not already swamped in detentions - though she was certain that Professor Lupin had something to do with it. He and the twins appeared to be working together, and apparently Professor Mcgonagall had unlocked the transfiguration classroom one morning to find all the furniture stuck to the ceiling; and all transfiguration classes had had to be moved into an empty chamber on the other side of the castle until they could figure out how to get them down again. 

With the added stress of OWLs, Auroras first transformation of the year had been disastrous. She had woken up in the hospital wing with a large gash down the side of her arm, and it had left deep scarring. Madam Pomfrey had kept Aurora in the hospital wing for three days - despite her protests - and refused to allow her to study until she had 'fully recovered.' 

"But Poppy" Aurora had pleaded, "I'll be so behind-"

"I don't want to hear it Miss Black, you are not to pick up a book until you are dismissed form my hospital wing, you'll strain your eyes!"

As September drew to a close Aurora's mind was occupied yet again, but this time by a positive factor. The quidditch season was approaching, and Slytherin tryouts were being held on the first Saturday of October. Aurora had been a beater on the Slytherin quidditch team since her second year; her heightened senses and unnatural strength - the only bright side to her lycanthropy -  allowed her to flourish on the pitch, even if the captain was a sexist prat and a pure-blood supremacist.

On the morning of tryouts Aurora was up and dressed in record time; she grabbed her nimbus 2001 (the brooms Lucius Malfoy had bought for the entire team a year ago) and practically bounced down to the quidditch pitch. Marcus Flint was already there when she arrived, pretending to listen to Draco rat on about something (probably Potter), and the rest of the team were sat in the stands, conversing casually. The new comers were stood awkwardly to the side, looking as if they were second guessing actually trying out.

Finally having enough of Draco's complaining, Flint blew his whistle and gestured for everybody to gather around. Marcus Flint was a burly eighteen year old who was redoing his seventh year at Hogwarts, and he loomed over most of the scrawny second years like an overgrown mountain troll - he looked like one too. 

"Right, here's whats going to happen. If your trying out for either beater, seeker or keeper-" a forth year who was leaning against the wall perked up "-then you can leave, we don't need you, so scram" the forth year deflated like a balloon, and slumped off towards the locker room grumbling under his breath.