Duplicitous | T.N.

XLI • I can't

Aurora had the focus of a lion hunting it's prey. Never does the great beast turn to admire the view, nor does it ever willingly allow its meal to escape. In order to obtain its dinner, it remains extremely attentive. Like the predator, Auroras focus does not stray when her interest is peaked.

Her mind fixated entirely on her Patronus. She had allowed for the nostalgia to overwhelm her, as she pronounced the spell of which became engraved in her head, and from her wand, once again did the fox leap from her wand and dance around her.

Sitting alone in the corner of the library, the rows of shelves sheltering the blue magic she cast. If Umbridge or her squad were to learn of the practical work she did, Rory knew without a doubt she'd be punished. The fox nestled it's snout into the back of her palm, where the faded scribbles sat. It's mind connected to hers, felt her troubles and sought to brighten her mood.

The figment of her spell, playfully circled her. Chuckling in amusement as it messed around, bounced and tumbled in a silly manner. The creature was beautiful, if it weren't to be appreciated by her friends she sure would.

"Is that a Patronus?" Came a stiff voice, the tint curiosity shadowing his casually angered way of speaking. Theodore approached cautiously, bag thrown lazily over his right shoulder, head bent forward as his jaw slaked in bewilderment. He shrugged the bag off and as he did the book filled sack collapsed sluggishly to the floor, paying it no mind as he unashamedly stared at the creature.

Pulling himself out a chair, his arms laid flat before him. A ghost of a smile played warily on his lips, the drowning with the overwhelming sense of accomplishment and happiness hit him, a common unconscious reaction when handling such light magic.

The small creature, jumped behind his shoulder and over to Aurora again, clearly enthralled by the attention. Theodore chuckled half heartedly at the fox. Whilst the young Slytherins eyes remained glued to the animal, Aurora narrowed her eyes into slits as he so casually sat right by her. For weeks Theo had been reluctant to any form of conversation. The conversation they had previously formed a wedge and she didn't understand it, if anything she deemed such conversation to connect people rather than seperate them.

Surprisingly his words were thoughtful, kind. He apparently wasn't. "Is it difficult?" She sassed. He frowned in confusion, his gaze refusing to part from her whimsical creation. "Conversing with me?." She paused, eyed slimming further. "Willingly."

"Well, you did spend weeks not conversing with me." He tsk'd, right back. Somewhat defeated she sighed. It was true, but that was because of the badge that she had found, the badge that he still continued to wear.

"I had my reasons." She mumbled. The boy chuckled back, eyes not meeting hers, he kept them towards the hue of content.

"A fox." He grinned, finally shifting his view to get a look at her. Her face was blank, mildly flushed from the mid winter air, her freckles had long faded since the summer, shame. His voice lowered to a whisper. "Fitting." With deep hesitation, her eyebrows furrowed in accusation, before the smallest of smiles spread onto her face. He didn't waste his time turning back to the fox.

His smile dimmed, growing soft and unsure. Looking at the fox engulfed him with such happiness, he was practically high off it. The beauty of the Patronus was that it inspired such purity, such warmth. It had Theodore aching for more.

Theo had experienced his fair share of happiness, with his mother and friends, other sources of peace were limited. He cherished whatever he could grasp, snatching it and embracing it close as though it may wither away between his fingers before he could soak up any of the simple goodness.

He had felt the pureness whither before him before. Sometimes in a more literal sense than others. A dementor was birthed for the purpose of stealing the good and crushing it between its stick like nails. He had been in the presence of many dementors. His father, he was aware, was one of the Dark lords most faithful servants. Growing up some of his earliest memories was Theodore Snr, drunkenly mumbling of his ambitions to maintain the spot of his favourite follower. His father hoped the same for Theo.