Duplicitous | T.N.

XVIII • Drowning sorrows in thick liquor

There was no bliss when she awoke. She was well aware of the date before she even fell to consciousness. Instead of being crushed with overwhelming dread at realisation, she already felt it as her eyes opened, reluctantly taking in the day.

It was a sickening feeling. Her insides recoiled, she had to leave bed, she didn't have a choice. It was a Sunday but her friends wouldn't allow her to wallow in self pity as she snuggled into the comfort of her bed. She wouldn't be surprised if they were to yank her by her hair all to get her functioning.

They hadn't fallen for her subconscious trick she tried to pull the previous day. She knew why she was overly happy before, she nearly tricked herself. Aurora didn't need anyone knowing about her misery, she wanted to be left alone. Unfortunately for her, she knew she would be denied that luxury.

As she raised off her mattress she took her time readying herself, all too happy to arrive late to breakfast.

Her reflection scared her. She didn't know when she began to look like this, a ghost of herself. She guessed her beauty began to whither when the nightmares started. She realised those nightmares came with the time of year it was. Happy birthday mum.

She chose to hide again, to look okay. No one needed to know, she didn't need their pity, she didn't want it. So with her concealer, she hid the black rings that had formed beneath her eyes. With her blush, she disguised her colourless face with a blossoming one. With her lip gloss, she concealed her dry chapped lips. She looked presentable, it was good enough for her.

She willed herself to withhold any tears, she refused to allow them to fall. Her pent up emotions were bound to collapse, she didn't need that day to come just yet.

With feigned happiness she greeted those she passed. Though by her intention, she didn't act overly happy. When she tired that the day before everyone suspected something.

The guilty part of her loved the attention. If she was being honest, she genuinely wanted it. It helped, the affection of others. There was an exception when the topic was her mother, her family never relied on others, they had always been notorious for being the shoulder others leaned on, it was Rorys responsibility to follow suit. She would accept help but never would she rely.

She made her way down to the great hall. Breakfast awaited her. Her friends had already turned to face her. They pitied her, she could tell. She gave them her best small smile. She wouldn't even try to exaggerate her happiness that day.

They didn't expect it when she took her seat besides them. They had expected she would close herself off or request to be left alone in which they planned to heroically deny. Their confusion showed, mouths opened, eyes widened.

Rory planned to clear things up. She chose to be honest. Well, close to it at least. "I'm okay." Lie. Her first words of the day were lies. "I'm upset, of course." Lie again. She was more than upset, she was beside herself. "I don't need any pity." That was truthful. "Just some friends." Also the truth.

They all responded in a rush.

"Yeah."
"Totally."
"Exactly what I was thinking."

She couldn't process any individual phrases, they all spoke at once. She smiled and nodded in appreciation.

It was that time of morning, owls swooped in left and right. The room became a storm of feathers and parchment. An owl she recognised as the Weasleys family owl came down by Rory. Before her, we're three letters.

Her bothers. She thought on instinct. Had they written to her? Would they speak with her? She grew overly excited only to be stamped with disappointment. The letters weren't from her brother. Her father didn't write either. She couldn't blame them. She didn't write to them either.