Cracks in the complexion
It’s just after breakfast and I find myself standing outside Dumbledore's office. The gargoyle statue guarding the entrance sweeps aside. I adjust my Slytherin robe and make my way up the winding spiral staircase. As I enter I find Dumbledore standing at a picture. I walk closer noticing the picture was of the 1976 Slytherin quidditch team, my father's team.
“He was an exceptional wizard Aurora, not too bad at quidditch either…I can see the resemblance.” He remarks softly.
“Unfortunately I did not inherit his quidditch skills.” I say amusingly a sense of sadness washing over me. Dumbledore motions for me to sit in one of the chairs in his office.
He begins speaking, his voice serious, yet comforting. “I apologize if the manner of your arrival here seems abrupt. But the decision was made purely with your safety, as well as the safety of your peers in mind. The ministry and I believe Hogwarts is the best place for you.”
I slightly furrow my brows, a bit confused about why my safety specifically may be in danger, but I stay silent and let him continue. Could they have told me the true reason for turning my life upside down?
“I have no doubt you’ll do great things here, Aurora, just as your mother did.” He says with a softer tone.
I smile at him, trusting his decision. “Thank you, Professor Dumbledore.”
He smiles back, a reassuring twinkling in his eye. “That’s all I ask, Aurora. Now I don’t want to make you late for your first class. I believe you have Defense Against the Dark Arts with Professor Umbridge.”
I crack open the door to the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom and find myself facing a woman with a saccharine smile plastered on her face. I cringe a bit at her clothing which is an explosion of pink and frills, giving her an appearance of a particularly aggressive garden gnome.
Umbridge raises an eyebrow as I walk in, her voice dripping with faux sweetness “And why might you be late, dear?”
I step forward, feeling a twinge of irritation at her tone. “I was meeting with Professor Dumbledore in his office,” I explain calmly.
Umbridge slightly narrows her eyes, “Aurora Black, isn’t it?”
I nod, my expression neutral “Correct” I reply, firmly.
She gestures to the only empty seat next to Harry Potter. “Take a seat,” she says in an annoyingly high-pitched voice. I slide into the seat beside Harry Potter to see the redhead next to him give me a curious look. Umbridge continues her lesson, her voice droning on causing a dull headache to throb at my temples as I zone out. Ever since I have gotten hear I haven’t been able to concentrate or think properly, however, my attention snaps back as I hear Harry Potter's voice say Lord Voldemort's name.
The entire classroom goes silent and Umbridge's face contorts into disbelief as she stands frozen for a few seconds before regaining her posture. “Mr Potter, that is highly inappropriate! That certain Dark Lord has not returned and spreading such lies will not be tolerated.” Utter rage fills my veins as I hear the idiocy and nativity spew from Umbridges mouth. Voldermorts back. We all know it. Merlin the whole wizarding world knows it!
“Why would he lie about something like that?” I reply, my anger and frustration getting the better of me.
“Exactly.” Harry continues, “I saw him with my own two eyes. I fought him.”
Umbridge's voice becomes a shrill screech “Detention” she yells. “...both of you.” How fucking dare she. What did I even do? I’m going to rip those bloody fluffy pink feathers off her hideous attire.
And it seems Harry isn’t done either, he presses further. “So you think Cedric’s death was a lie as well?”
Umbridge's response is swift, her tone dismissive. “Cedric Diggory’s death was a tragic accident.”
I can’t help but laugh in shock. I wasn't there that night but when Fleur got back she didn’t shy about the details. “A tragic accident? It was a murder, Voldemort killed him!”
Umbridge's anger flares “Enough.” She shouts, before plastering her nauseating smile back on her face and continues her lesson, the classroom is once again filled with the grating sound of her voice but now accompanied by tension and unease.
After class, I was filled with utter rage. How can someone be so small-minded, and idiotic, and have the same fashion sense as a 2-year-old? I was fuming when someone grabbed my elbow and pulled me into one of the side alcoves. I quickly turn and push their hand away only to find the hand belonging to a furious Mattheo Riddle. His sneer could have burnt down the castle.
“Learn your place, Blood Traitor” He seethed deathly staring down at me. How dare he. Blood Traitor? Really? That's the best he could do?
I took a step closer and didn't break my gaze with him as I seethed back, “You're pathetic.” And with that, I tore my gaze from him and turned to walk from the alcove only to be met with the confused face of Harry Potter who was staring at me with a sympathetic look. I shake my head and he gestures down the hall for us to walk together. I step into step with him and I feel eyes on the back of my head but a voice beside me pulls me from the thought.
“Thank you” Harry’s voice is soft but with a firm undertone. He truly looks sad for a moment before he hides it with gratitude. His curled brown hair covers his scar I have heard all too much about and metal-rimmed glasses sit on the bridge of his nose.
I turn away from him and face the direction he is walking us in, “For what?”
He falters in step for a moment and we turn down a quiet corridor he turns to me and we both stop.
“No one else believed me when I told them Lord Voldemort was back. People I trust and have known for years still doubt me about it. But you, someone I had never even spoken with before defended me.” He let out a little smirk, “So thank you.”
I let out a small smile in reply and we continued down the hall in silence until we reached a door with a golden plaque that stated “Professor Umbridge’s Office”. Harry and I both look at each other for a second before he pushes open the door with a polite knock. The room was quite literally exploding with pink, cats littered the walls and ugly crochet covered every seat. It made me want to throw up. Umbridge was sitting in a bright pink decor chair listening to cats meow continuously. A ghastly smile took over her face.
“Good evening, Mister Potter, Miss Black” Her voice sounded like nails on a chalkboard, “Sit.” Hesitantly Harry and I sit down at the pre-set desks that face each other. On each desk is a piece of parchment.
“Today you two will be writing lines for me”
We both reach for our bags for our quills when her maniacal voice interrupts us, “You will be using my special quills today.” delicately she lays expensive-looking quills down in front of both of us. “Now…I want you to write…We must not tell lies”
“How many times?”
“Let’s just say until it…sinks in” She smiled and turned her back toward us and Harry and I shared a confused look. We both start to write on the parchment, the only thing that can be heard in the room is the scratching of parchment and the quiet meowing of cats. My hand starts to become irritable as I finish my first line, it feels as though I burnt it. I turn my hand over to see scratches drawing blood from my hand. I bit back my pain and looked up at Harry to see the same thing on his hand. It feels worse now, more like someone is slicing my skin with a sharp knife. I look back to my hand to see my squirley handwriting carved into my skin ‘We must not tell lies’.
“You two deserve to be punished. Don’t you?” Her voice is infuriating to listen to. Harry and I both stare at each other with blank expressions refusing to speak, “Continue.” We are both forced to carve our hands in 5 more times until Umbridge decides the ‘message sunk in’. With all my power I contain my rage and walk out with my hand at my side. The second the door closes behind Harry and I in sync both cradle our hands to our chests.
“What the fuck!” I whisper to him as I stride my way down the hall, I hear his footsteps trying to catch up to me.
“Aurora, wait!” His voice is also still a whisper to avoid bringing attention to us. I stop and turn to him and with his good hand, he takes my arm and pulls me down a few twists and turns until we are sitting on a bench. He reaches into his satchel and pulls out his wand. I raise my
eyebrow at him, slightly surprised.
“You going to heal it?” I ask him curiously.
Harry chuckles with a hint of sarcasm in his eyes. “I’ll have you know I am very accomplished in the art of healing?” We both let out small chuckles.
He grabs ahold of my injured hand and begins to carefully whisper spells down to it.
“You’re a natural at this.” I smile at him and he grins back at me. He tries to keep his voice comedic but a bit of sadness leaks through, “You could say I've had quite a lot of experience.”
Harry finishes healing my hand and I grab his, copying what he did to mine. We share a quiet moment, tending to each other's wounds, our unspoken understanding growing stronger.
I can't help but vent my frustration about Professor Umbridge “She’s absolutely infuriating, isn’t she? Like what kind of psycho does this to someone.”
“Tell me about it,” Harry remarks. I finished healing his hand and I looked at him to see him mindlessly tracing the scar on his forehead. He did not say anything as he continued to trace and stare at the table.
“Harry…are you ok?” I keep my voice steady as I look at the sadness on his face.
“I can’t believe that everyone is so blindsided. Do they really believe that I am lying about my parent's murder coming back? I…” he stutters for a moment and adjusts his glasses, “I just don’t understand.”
I am quiet for a moment so I can collect my thoughts, “This might not be of very much comfort right now but did you know our parents only died one day apart?” He looks over to me with a raised eyebrow and I can’t help but let out a laugh. Harry quickly joins in and we laugh in sorrow for a moment before a serious expression takes over my face, “They don’t believe you because they can’t control their fear. They think if they deny saying he's back, he won’t. But he has and they are just too scared to admit it.”
“Well, at least one person believes me!” We both let out loud laughs again and with a smile, I get up from the bench.
“Until next time, Harry Potter.” A playful smile is stuck on my face,
“Indeed, Aurora Black” he replies in an amused tone as I walk away.
The Slytherin common room is dimly lit and I am still trying to push away the stinging feeling from my hand.
“Argent” I turn my head at the nickname and see Theo motioning me over to join him and the Slytherins. I make my way over to the plush chairs and sofas around the fireplace, I take a seat between Pansy and Draco, and before I can even settle in, an agitating voice rings through my ears.
“How was detention, Black?” Mattheo taunts, a small smile forming on his face.
I shoot the boy an irritated look. “Piss off, Riddle,”.
Mattheos smirk only widens as he continues to provoke me “You and Potter were looking pretty close.”
Draco immediately snaps his head towards me and practically snarls. “What the hell?”
“I-” I try to interject but before I can get a word out Pansy cuts me off. “What happened to your hand?” Everyone's eyes fall on my scarred hand.
“Was it Potter?” Draco asks, his voice laced with anger and distaste.
I shake my head. “No, it wasn’t Harry. It was Umbridge. She used a blood quill during detention.”
“Bloody hell. That woman's a nightmare. You should tell someone, Aurora.” Daphne says, her expression filled with concern.
“No, don’t say anything,” I state looking around the group, and out of the corner of my eye I catch Mattheo who is glaring at me from his chair.
“Rora you have to say something so we can get rid of her-” Draco states before I cut him off.
“She works for the Ministry there not going to fire her for a little blood and it will only give her satisfaction to know she got to Harry and I.”
“Harry and I? When did you two get so close?” Draco’s expression looks confused.
I shrug a little, “We have a lot in common.” and with that, everyone went silent and sat back in their seats. Theo let out a little giggle and took a little sip from his drink. I stand another second of awkward silence so I quickly come up with an excuse to leave. “I’m going to go write to Margot and Gabrielle.” And with that, I stood and started to walk towards the girl's dormitory. My robes swished around my legs as I turned to close the door to my room, and I did a quick check that Anne wasn’t back. Luckily, she wasn’t. I quickly rushed over to my bed and kneeled down so I could uncover my hidden book. I feel the rough fabric touch my fingers, I quickly hold it to my chest and get into my bed, hiding myself under the covers. I don’t bother about changing out of my robe and with a shaky breath I start to read.
Divination is a mystical and often controversial branch of magical arts that seeks to unveil the hidden tapestry of destiny through various esoteric methods. This ancient practice is rooted in the belief that the future is not an impenetrable veil, but rather a dynamic force, subject to interpretation and manipulation. Diviners, equipped with tools such as crystal balls, tea leaves, tarot cards, and palmistry, endeavor to tap into the unseen currents of time, deciphering symbols and signs to foretell events yet to come. Despite its intriguing allure, Divination remains a contentious discipline within the magical community, with skeptics dismissing it as mere superstition while proponents assert its profound influence on the course of one's life. Whether one views it as an art of foresight or folly, the study of Divination continues to captivate the curious and challenge the boundaries of magical knowledge.
Why was this book in the restricted section? All that is in it is information about the study of Divination which I have been taking for years. Personally, I have always found the subject to be odd. Every time I used to walk into my Divination class the hairs on the back of my neck pricked up. It was weird and freaked me out which means I am going to despise the fifth period tomorrow. I turn back to the pages to continue reading when I hear voices coming from outside the door. I scramble out of bed and as I do so pages start to fall out of the book. I accidentally drop the book and in a rush, I kick the book and the fallen pages on the floor under the bed just in time for the door to swing open and reveal a smiling Daphne and an expressionless Pansy. They both look at me curiously as I stand nervously next to my bed but Daphne quickly tries to smooth the awkwardness.
“Aurora!” Daphne runs in with a smile on her face to stand in front of me, “Pansy and I just found out that we got permission to go to Hogsmeade this coming weekend, and we-”
“You. You were thinking.” Pansy states as she sways into the room and lays herself on her bed.
“Whatever. Would you like to come to Hogsmeade this weekend?!” Daphne’s eyes were wide and hopeful as she waited for a reply.
“I would have to ask-”
“You’ll come!” I let out a small smile and a nod and within a second I was enveloped in a hug. “This is going to be so fun! Think of all the things we will buy! Oh, I need to go write a list!” She quickly dashed over to her desk and started writing on her parchment excitedly.
I turn to Pansy who is settled on her bed. “So… what exactly is Hogsmeade?” I ask tentatively.
"You don't know?" Pansy replies her expression a mix of surprise and mild amusement.
I shake my head with a small smile “I mean I’ve heard the name. I'm pretty sure I went there when I was younger, but I don’t remember it.”
Pansy props up on her elbows and begins to explain. “It’s the only entirely wizarding village in Britain, there are a few pubs and shops. Not a lot going on, to be honest.”
Daphne suddenly whips her head around “Pansy stop being so boring, it’ll be fun!”
Pansy grabs her book from her bedside table. “Yeah, yeah whatever,” she says dismissively as she begins to turn the pages.
I walk towards my corner of the room and remember I have to do my DADA homework. I start rummaging through my bag and around my bed, yet my book is nowhere to be found. I let out a quiet sigh, realizing I probably left it in the common room.
I make my way down from the dormitory, my footsteps echoing softly. I descend down the stairs and spot Draco sitting by himself, engrossed in his own homework.
“Hey,” I say as I sink down onto the plush couch next to him. He looks up, his eyes lighting up with a smile.“Hey Rora.” he greets, putting his book aside.
I can’t help but grin, feeling the weight of our separation “I missed you so much, Dee.”
Draco arches his eyebrow with a teasing grin playing on his lips. “Ew, when did you get so cheesy?”
“Oh shut up, I know you missed me too,” I say, nudging his shoulder.
“Please, don’t flatter yourself.” He chuckles, lightly pushing me back.
“How's things at the Manor?” I question.
Draco's expression softens. “Alright, Mother is doing well, she never shuts up about how much she misses you. Father has been more distant. I rarely see him.” I simply nod, knowing he doesn't like talking about Lucius.
“Hm, well your friends are… Interesting, especially Mattheo Riddle,” I emphasize while giving him a knowing look. “Why are you friends with him?”
His silver eyes meet mine and he sighs before responding. “Trust me, I know it might not seem like it, but he’s a good guy if you get to know him.”
I scoff at his words. “A good guy? His father literally murdered both of my parents, Draco.” I say harshly.
Draco puts his hand on my shoulder and leans in “I get it, Rora, I really do, but you have to understand Mattheo is not his father.”
“I just don’t know if I can trust him.” I can’t deny the truth in Draco’s words. But my parents' deaths have left a lasting scar, and it’s hard to look past the connection Mattheo has to the man responsible for their murders.
“I know you’ve been through a lot, but just give him a chance-”
“No.” I shake my head as I cut him off. “You saw how he acted at dinner yesterday. If he wants to be friends then he can come to me.”
A small smile tugs at Draco’s lips and I narrow my eyes at him “What?” I ask, still irritated.
“You’ve always been so stubborn, it's even funnier now with that little French accent.”
A small chuckle escapes from my lips as I swat him “Piss off Dee, it's not even noticeable, unlike your bloody hair.”
Draco shoots me a glare. “What's that supposed to mean?”
“Come on, it's obvious you dyed it,” I say, grinning mischievously
“Well, I could say the same to you. Your hair is nearly as white as the snow is in winter.” He mocks as he crosses his arms and leans back onto the couch.
“Come on. We both know that my hair is pure genetics. But yours…is 100% box platinum.”
His jaw drops open and he clutches his hand onto his chest “I would never-” He stops and reaches for his homework beside him. “You know what, I’m not even gonna engage in this conversation.”
“Yeah, because you know I’m right” I reply with a smug smile. “Anyway, I actually came down to find my DADA homework which you’re going to help me with.”
Draco sighs dramatically “Fine, but only because we both know I'm the smarter one.”
I roll my eyes at his comment and walk over to the other side of the common room to get the book, we find an empty table and begin to work through the homework together.
Hours pass by, and it feels like an eternity as we pour over our textbooks and parchment. The common room, once buzzing with life, has grown quiet, and the flickering greenish lamps cast eerie shadows on the dark wood furniture.
“Merlin, It's only the first day, and Umbridge is already pounding us with homework" I mumble as I stifle a yawn, feeling exhaustion creep over me. Draco nods in agreement, his expression mirroring my weariness. It's getting late, and I can't help but notice that Draco and I are the only two left in the common room.
I glance at my watch and let out a soft curse. "Shit, it's almost 1 am," I whisper, realizing just how late it is.
Draco looks at his own watch and nods in agreement. "Yeah, we should probably call it a night."
We gather our belongings and say our goodnights. I make my way back to the dorm and sneak inside, my footsteps almost soundless on the wooden floor. I quietly close the door behind me, not wanting to disturb my sleeping roommates. Carefully, I finally peel off my Hogwarts uniform and change into my pajamas. I slip into my bed, feeling the warmth and comfort of the bed sheets embrace me as I let my heavy eyelids close.
Everything was dark. The floor was cold and wet. There was nothing but a circular room that held stone stands that stacked themself to the height of the sky. It was empty. But only for a moment. Someone barged from the top of the stalls all the way to the circle in the center of the room. The figure was blurred like someone tried to scrub that person from the world with soap. The figure paced around the circle but stopped when people came through the doors. Everyone stared at the figure but the only thing that came from the blurred body was sharp muffled noises. Then everything was gone. All that remained was the color of cerulean flames.