Duplicitous | T.N.

LIX • A loathing

"What in Merlin's name was that?"

The door near flew off it's dingy hinges. The knob came propelling at unheard of speeds, the wall on it's left falling a victim to it, an ugly dent forming where the impact took place. And through the ajar door came a stomping Aurora. Her raging tone positioned with a particular ferociousness that had even Merlin quaking in his grave, the sound of his name surely did little to help.

Her arms flung over her chest, eyebrows furrowed and mouth pouted in budding fury. Standing before Theodore as she awaited his explanation for his previous behaviour.

"What was what?" Came his innocent response, eyes bulging, he almost looked pure.

"You condescending, irritative, little fuck!" She growled.

"Say that again." The Slytherin leant back in his chair, a brisk smile playing at his face.

"Oh!" The girl stomped her frustrated foot. "Why are you like this? Why are you like this?"

"Oh come on, love." The Slytherin groaned. "It wasn't that bad." She seemed hardly swayed.

"You decked Andrew Kirke in the nose!" The Gryffindor screeched.

His head lowered as his Addams apple bobbed. "I was stopping the fight." He reasoned.

A shrill and twisted laugh bounced from the walls of her throat and through the empty room. "How chivalrous of you." She seethed. "That's how we stop fights these days?"

"He was on Adrien like a leech." The Slytherin shrugged. "I simply flicked him off."

His words failed to extinguish the heated frustration that bubbled within her. With her fists clenched and jaw locked tight, he was trying really hard to ignore her withering glare, no matter how harsh always had him flustered.

Hours before hand, the Gryffindor Quidditch team had occupied the pitch, practicing their runs and skills, a warm peace had soothed them despite the chilling air. It had supposed to have been a quiet day, the classes were easy, the field, focused.

That solace was soon crushed by the likes of the Slytherins. To no surprise, the team wrapped in green staunched whatever peace and tranquility roamed throughout their friendly game. And with sharp edged words they aimed to kick the Lions off the pitch.

It didn't take much for a brawl to emerge.

By the time Aurora had arrived, blood clouded everyone's vision. Fists went flying and wrestling had been announced as the new form of communication. Then, she saw it; from across the field, she watched as Theodore Nott, her Theodore Nott, delivered a mean punch straight for Andrew Kirke nose. Blood spurred from his nostrils.

Now, she too saw red.

Aurora believed him when he said the punch was thrown for the purpose preventing a worser fight. Somehow her mind continued to dwell over the fact he probably could've prevented a fight from breaking out at all. She decided she wouldn't believe him if he told her he tried to stop the initial argument.

Luckily for him, he didn't try it.

So she asked him herself. "Why couldn't you simply extinguish the argument before it grew violent?" The stubbornness within her would not let him get away with it so easily.

"How?" He gave the girl a deadpanned stare.

"You're the Quidditch Captain!" She seethed. "It's your job."

"What Quidditch Captain ever stopped a fight between the snakes and lions for Merlin's sake." He then smiled a toothy sweet grin, soaking up in all that rage of which festered in her. The brutal puncture her stare offered did nothing to sway him from tormenting her a just little bit further. "Now where's my kiss?" He puckered his smug lips.