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...
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Aurora sat on her bed, a tattered book sitting closed before her. She reached forward and gently ran her fingers over its pages, her eyes closing softly at the gentle sensation.
Remy had left by now. She had stayed tucked away in Aurora's bed for almost the entire day; she hadn't cried or yelled or cursed Aurora into oblivion when the older girl had returned, but had left in silence with her head hung low and her breathes shallow. Aurora had tried not to think about it. She hated the idea that Remy could be mad at her.
The daylight had faded, and the moon hung stilly in the night sky. The stars did not twinkle, and the lake lay still and watchful. It was slightly unnerving, how still the world suddenly was. Aurora sighed. She retracted her hand from its place by the book.
Her eyes flickered to her bag, which lay in its usual spot by her bed. She reached for it, subconsciously reaching inside for the cool metal she had become so attached to, but was surprised when her fingers clasped around an envelope instead.
Annoyed, Aurora roughly tugged the letter into the light. The parchment was old and stained, but the envelope was sealed, and the writing on the front was not smudged.
Her father, she recalled. Sirius had sent her that almost a year ago. For a moment, she considered leaving it be, or feeding it into the common room fire. Perhaps it was curiosity, or maybe loneliness, but Aurora hesitated. She stared at the crisp parchment for a little longer, before flipping it over and undoing the seal in one swift motion.
She slowly slid the letter from its confines and stared at it for a while longer. She did not need to read it. She did not need to reconcile with her father. But...
She unfolded the letter.
Dear Aurora,
I read in a neat scrawl.
It's been a while, hasn't it. Hi. I know you probably don't want anything to do with me, and I also know that that was an awful way to start a letter, but this is my hundredth attempt and my hand is beginning to hurt. There's no excuse for what I did. I left you, and I hurt you, and trust me, that's not something I ever planned on doing.
I'm not going to run to you with pitiful pleas of forgiveness-
Aurora raised her eyebrows.
-but I want to apologise. My actions were uncalled for. They were a spur of the moment type deal, I wasn't thinking straight, and i know that is not an excuse, but I just wanted to let you know.
I thought I was dead. We all thought we were dying. I gave you to that orphanage because I presumed that I would be dead by the end of the night, and since I thought Moony was the traitor and Prongs and Lilyflower were in hiding you had nowhere else safe to go.
So I looked up an orphanage as far away from Goodrics Hollow and took you there; it was in Devon, and there was a forest and a meadow nearby. It looked nice - you know, clean and not too crowded. You were only four, but you were smart, so I told you that I was going to rescue Uncle Prongsy and Auntie Lily and Harry, and that I would come back because you were a child, and who in their right mind would tell a child that they were going to die and that they were a walking magnet to dark magic.
