Duplicitous | T.N.

XXII • A brush with war

His distain was still fresh. Raw as a deep gash through a throat, angry as an infection. He was a ticking time bomb thirsty to explode, to direct his wrath onto whoever. To throw, in a Theodore like fashion, a good old temper tantrum.

The previous week had been a vexed one. He was avoided by most. No girl attempted to flirt, no guy attempted to befriend. Theodore was angry. He wore his emotions thick on his face. The entire week, he wore an indignant expression. He resembled a statue for his expression was frozen solid. Unchanging. Unmerciful.

He didn't know why he was angry. He just was.

While the serpent boy emitted fuming emotions and irascible moods, Aurora Flores continued to spread positivity and glee. That angered him more.

He had been glaring all week. One would expect he would grow tired of staring at one girl with malice, cold strong enough to freeze the sun and boiling enough to melt the moon, but he never failed to deliver a seething glance.

She smiled at Harry as he inhaled his lunch. Rory, Ginny, the twins and the Golden trio all conversed during their lunch break. The topics ranged from their current DA teachings to the colour Umbridges skin. They all decided it was a pastel shade of green.

"Her entire being is just so vile." Ginny spat, eyes burning into her pink professor from across the hall.

The topic of Umbridge was one of those subjects that managed to infuriate Rory more than most topics could. As she listened to her friends rant about the toad, Rory traced the back of her hand. It wasn't smooth anymore. It was scribbled with scars. The phrase her professor had her carve into her own skin littered the flesh above her wrist.

The gashes were no longer open wounds, they had stopped bothering her months ago and Rory liked to believe, mentally she was doing better. Although, most of the time she felt ashamed for her being, or miserable due to her mother's absence, it wasn't uncommon for a real laugh to escape her anymore.

At first the feeling of an actual giggle was alien, near unrecognisable, afterward she found herself riddled with guilt over the fact she was feeling okay. Nearly six months had flown by since the death of her mother, she was bound to smile again. It felt uncanny, but there she was, rubbing her thumb over her peculiarly decorated arm with a little grin as she chatted with her friends and gossiped about teachers.

She hadn't cried in months, not once did Rory allow a single tear to escape from her bottom lashes, not once did she allow a sob to release from her chapped lips and not once did she allow for her face to form a frown or any form of a negative expression.

To her luck, her friends stopped treating her like glass and so she could stop going above and beyond to not act like it. Emotions were too messy and Aurora had the tendency to feel them on overdrive.

If she allowed herself she could weep for days and lay in bed for weeks longer but the consequence could effect her studies or social life and she would rather die than fail at either.

Her smile wasn't genuine that day, but her happiness was. She did feel the genuine urge to smile but Aurora knew her true grin was hideous so she replaced it with a practiced one. Although it sounds depressing that was a good sign of improvement, back to how it was before.

She was okay. She was finally okay. Those words would only be relevant for as long as she could keep her emotions pent up. When the moment the waterworks flowed occurred, so would the agony. She didn't yet understand that sadness was a healthy reliever, until she learnt that lesson she ignored every negative emotion and writhed on the positive ones.

Whatever joyful feelings she was feeling then dispersed at the realisation she had a potions session that afternoon. Great. Just great. Theodore Nott. That boy never failed to evoke such anger from her, it was almost released once or twice, she would have to work harder to contain it.