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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The night was long, and Aurora knew that she was in deep shit. Perhaps not so much herself, but the one living person she cared about— Rory couldn't imagine what would become of Francis if the entire school found out about his fluffy wolfish tendencies. After a worried night spent dashing around the spooky forest of trees that go on for miles, Aurora was walking back to the place she'd left her clothes.
Frankie was still sleeping— note that it was a troublesome sleep, with his lanky body shaking and his eyes rolling around frantically behind their closed lids. She'd walked barefoot in the dusty leaves and sharp branches, along with the occasional thorn bush, for nearly two miles. She never wished to be an amputee more. And then she saw him.
Tom Riddle was sitting on top of his black cloak in the same place she'd previously left him. He did not even look tired, with his long legs splayed out in front of him and his trademarked crooked smirk on his sharp features. He rose an eyebrow, and Rory had to force her mind not to be embarrassed in the moment. She had bigger things to worry about than Tom Riddle seeing her in her knickers. Again.
Without a word being said, Rory bent down as modestly as possible in such a compromising position to grab the clothes she'd previously shed. She downright refused to make eye contact with the Slytherin prefect, who had yet to take a calculated eye off of her as she shimmied into yesterday's school uniform.
Finally, after pulling the last bit of leaf crumb from her white mane, Aurora leaned against a wide tree trunk and crossed her arms. As she finally gave her full attention to Tom, her eyebrows furrowed at such a complication— how was she to get out of this mess? Better yet, how was she to get Frankie in the clear?
"Francis is a Werewolf."
It was not a question, but a statement. And she furiously resisted the urge to roll her multicolored eyes at the obviousness. No, she thought to herself sarcastically, he is a fairy. Couldn't you tell?
"Yes." She replied simply. The was no point in denying it. She would have loved to use sarcasm in this moment, the words, "He is my pet dog," on the tip of her witty tongue. However, she was smart enough not to provoke Tom while in such a compromising position.
"For how long?" The snake asked, finally standing up. He picked up his dirt-ridden cloak from the forest floor and started to dust it off, yet Tom's coffee eyes never left her own.
She narrowed her eyes. "A while." After a moment of silence, Aurora spoke again. "Walk with me. And bring that cloak," she eyed the freshly scorgifyied Hogwarts robes that belonged to the cunning student.
