Duplicitous | T.N.

XVI • Two graves

Weeks had gone by since Auroras' first DA lesson, the secret classes progressed, hidden in the sanctuary of Hogwarts sandstone walls. Hidden in the confidential room of requirement, to evade Professor Umbridge and her bigoted ways.

Aurora had already mastered every single enchantment, hex, jinx and spell they were taught in DA club. She of course, was more experienced than Harry due to her age, a year ahead of him she was. The thought gave the chosen one himself an idea.

Currently, Rory sat, a thick book in hand, inside the Gryffindor commons. The room had been empty, everyone had already wandered off to bed, minus Rory. Although her eyes remained focused on the book before her eyes, her attention was solely focused on her surroundings. The light crackle of the roaring fire from beside her, or how the cushions she sat on felt against her frail fingertips. Only half of her mind read. That half failed to process the words.

Rory was focusing on her surroundings, so she was left unsurprised at the loud thump beside her as a figure threw the self on the lounge. She had already heard his stomp like footsteps and had already predicted he would ungracefully flop beside her.

Two more sets of footsteps followed the first. The Trio she had come to know and love sat before her in the empty common room. She raised her gaze in a bored manner, clearly unbothered by their appearance. They on the other hand had their attention based utterly on her, their eyes burning into her scull as they patiently waited for her undivided attention.

She wasn't willing to give it. "I can multitask, you know." She sighed in a joking manner, eyes still attempting to decipher the words she wasn't focusing on.
She found herself rereading the same sentence again and again.
She found herself rereading the same sentence again and again.

The trio didn't share her humour. She let out a load groan, followed by a breezy chuckle. Throwing her head back she slammed her book shut and faced the three desperate faces.

Hermiones resting face was naturally stern, but it seemed in that moment that was the expression she had been intentionally displaying on her porcelain face. Her eyebrows were furrowed as low as Rory thought humanly possible and her face had morphed into a frown. Was she angry?

She directed her focus to Ron. He seemed nervous, Rory observed. Rory noticed how his gaze seemed fragile, he also took a habit of twirling with his thumbs when unsure, Rory noticed that too. Were they going to confront her?

Turning to Harry, all thoughts of being staunched or confronted left her mind. He didn't look nervous or stern but rather hopeful. His moss green hues mixed with her hazel ones, wide and pleading. His hands clasped in front of him, almost as though he would break into prayer at any given moment. Based off the variety of their expressions she predicted that they wanted something from her, but she couldn't be sure what.

"Yes." She drawled out. Since their arrival none of them had spoken a word. She guessed, they all felt that they would be asking too much of her. She already knew she would agree, it was her moral obligation. Though they seemed reluctant that she would say yes to whatever they had to say.

Ron broke the odd silence. He really wished he hadn't. "So, Rory, Rores, Roarster." Her eyes widened at the similarities between Ron and his older brothers, for they too greeted her like that when in need of a favour. Her wide eyes, to Ron, must've looked like a judgy glance for he quickly succumbed into the lounge. Hopeful to be engulfed by the soft couch.

She smiled at him in reassurance. Ron developed the courage to speak again. "Harry we all agreed you would be the one to ask."

"Ask me what?" Rory was confused beyond compare, she was clueless as to what they wanted.