A chaotic tale of a young girl surrounded by orphans, dark wizards, and irresponsibility!
A thrilling AU in which Tom Riddle simply cannot get rid of the pestering presence that is Aurora whatever-her-last-name-is.
In which Aurora makes it her life...
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1942
2 years later...
"Franklin! You're so dead," Came the voice of a fifteen year old girl with hair as white as snow— which was currently dripping profoundly.
"You'll never c-catch me alive!" Said the newly deepened voice of the one and only Francis Day as he abandoned the screeching girl on the beach.
Aurora frustratedly ringed the salty ocean water from her hair as she trudged up to the sand, moving as fast as she could as the huge waves threatened to knock her over. Once she finally made it to the safety of the burning crumbles of sand, she glanced at Frankie's retreating figure as he ran quickly up to their small Hawaiian Hut.
Aurora bad-temperedly snatched a black leather journal, along with her beach bag containing a simple towel and fifteen different bottles of sunscreen.
"He threw you in?" Tom's uninterested voice filled her ears as Rory started to storm the long cobblestone pathway up to their temporary living quarters.
Aurora didn't even spare the Hogwarts prefect a glance as she stiffly replied, "Correct. Got any good curses for me to use?"
"Avada Kedavra," Tom suggested sarcastically, without any hesitation, his quick strides matching hers with ease. Tom and Francis didn't get along well, to put it lightly.
She shot Tom a deep scowl, "Men," she muttered to herself as she slammed the front door open roughly.
Their current safe house was very small, almost being a tiny cottage. It contained two small bedrooms, a tiny bathroom, as well as a reasonably sized sitting area attached to their kitchen. The wallpaper was a light blue in their sitting area, with light wooden floorboards. The only couch available was only a small love seat placed tastefully in the center of the room.
"Are you prepared to die?" Asked Rory as she circled Frankie as if he was her prey. Not intimidated in the slightest, Frankie was leaning comfortably on the sofa with a newspaper in hand, feet kicked up lazily on the coffee table.
"It isn't my fault that y-you wanted to t-teach me the Reductor curse," he spoke back calmly, flipping the page of the old fashioned newspaper.
Rory shot him a mean glare before tiredly plopping down next to her tall friend, briefly scanning the paper over his shoulder. "You're lucky that I'm bloody exhausted. Anything interesting?"
"Nope," Frankie sighed and folded the paper back up neatly, "The usual recruitments. It says that he's in America, but knowing him, he's probably halfway across the world by now."
