Duplicitous | T.N.

LIV • Cast under influence

Pretend

|| To behave so as to make it appear that something is the case when in fact it is not ||

A curve of the lips matched with dulcet eyes, a cheeky laugh forced through strained teeth, a polite word left with absence of heart. Aurora sought and found no difficulties through this.

Of all the things Aurora Flores excelled at, of all the classes she topped and the games she'd outdo, she was the very finest fake. With her assortment of feigned grins and practiced mannerisms, she could dissimulate practically anything.

So even when the mere thought of Theodore Nott stole away her dignity and forced a blush upon her face, she ignored it. She pretended - pretended that everything was fine - that the matter of her mind was not imploding, that she wasn't so irreversibly and fiercely terrified .

So there she laid, drawled across the common room couches, her feet resting upon Hermiones lap, her position effortless, but her expression posed. She wore a bluffed beam as her friends spoke. Only until it was appropriate did said smile waver.

Ron, who had barely made the Keeper position, sat reminiscing on his previous win. With a loud mouth he expressed his worries and hopes and even Cormac Mclaggen. "He's got a bit of a thing for you Hermione, Cormac."

Rory's eyes rolled from where she sat, she felt pity for her younger friend. Initially said pity was cored from the idea that Mclaggen would attempt to infiltrate his way into Hermiones fancy. However, she watched as gleam of hope dimmed through the young witches eyes as the girl glanced up upon Ron. Her expression faded, according. "He's vile." She scoffed shakily.

Rory sympathised for the girl as she grasped her copy of the daily prophet. The elder witch turning to examine Ron, however the younger boys attention had been pulled elsewhere. Across the room Lavender Brown sat alone, playing childishly with the strands of her hair, a habit Aurora often caught herself doing, except instead of brunette ringlets whilst in the presence of a Slytherin, Lavender curled blonde ringlets through her dainty fingers her eyes displaying a thick wanting as she glanced up at Ron.

The boy looked away feverishly, his eyes finding Rory's sharp gaze. His expression paled, as though caught and then he shrugged as the faintest blush pulled upon his cheeks. Aurora understood. It felt nice to be liked.

"Have you ever heard of this spell?" Harry shifted from his spot on the ground. "Sectumsempera." His eyes glanced hopefully upon both Hermione and Aurora, both of whom looked equally clueless.

"No I haven't." Hermione voiced, a twitch of irritation evident amongst her frustrated tone. "And if you had a shred of self respect you'd hand that book in!" She scolded as she glared longingly down upon the book Harry grasped tightly onto.

"Not bloody likely." Ron mumbled. "He's top of the class." Oh. So that was what stemmed Hermiones particular distain for the text book. Rory found herself interested. "He's even better than you, Hermione." Hermione winced, so did Rory. "Slughorn thinks he's a genius."

She snapped her paper shut. "I'd like to know who's that book was." She crawled along the carpeted floor in reach for the text book. Harry scrambled away, equally as fast, shielding the papers with his torso and from Hermione.

"No." Harry snapped.

Her outstretched arm lowered. "Why not." She spat right back.

"The - " He scavenged for a suitable answer. "The binding is fragile." Aurora snorted.

He unknowingly reversed into Aurora. She plucked the book from his grasp. Smiling, she spoke. "Who's the Half Blood Prince?" With an eyebrow raised towards Harry, her cheeky grin widened.