Credence has had a troubled childhood, and as a result of the abuse he suffers at the hand of his adoptive mother, he comes to crave affection from others. Any kind of affection. Aurelia knew him long ago. She was the only one to show any care for t...
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Aurelia had, during the past few years, found it increasingly difficult to sleep. She could only rest when she was absolutely exhausted; when she could feel it in the tiredness that weighed heavily on her chest, in the shallowness of her breath and her thoughts that dragged by in slow motion. On good days she'd get four hours, on bad days two.
Should she doze off too early she'd wake as soon as sleep came, always as fast as if a No-Maj had shot a gun next to her ear, heart jumping into her throat and breathing heavily as if she'd just surfaced from deep water. If Aurelia was ever lucky enough to dream, they were always unpleasant. The most reoccurring being that of a young, black haired boy being beaten by his mother... and of her walking away. Another of her leaving for Ilvermorny and that same boy chasing the train as it left; bags packed and wanting desperately to get away from New York.
None of this had happened, of course... at least not her walking away or him chasing the train. Still, it felt too real. Too close to home. Whether it was the truth or not she felt as guilty as if it had been. Knowing that she was unlikely to get any decent amount of sleep, Aurelia instead sat on an old winged armchair, legs crossed and fingers intertwined over one knee. Time begun to dissolve into itself, as shapeless as the beams of sunlight that started to wash over the horizon.
By 6:00am she had successfully reread all incident reports filed over the last month, highlighted any obscurities, and gotten dressed for work later on that day. Aurelia's impressive performance in her field could solely be thanked on the insomnia she suffered. While her colleagues slept, she was double checking her work. A yawn stretched from her lips, tired eyes stinging when they temporarily closed. It was going to be a long day... she could already feel it.
The wand beside her bed, engraved with vines that twisted all around its surface, lit up when the sun was at its highest. From the end a wisp of red string poured out and levitated into the air like smoke. It began to take form. The thread weaved in opposite directions, smoothing out before reconnecting into the shape of a Phoenix. Flames suddenly blazed inside of it and the creature gave a high pitched cry, signalling that it was time to leave for work.
Aurelia wasted no time getting out of her seat. She took a few long strides over to the wand and picked it off of the wooden top. With one firm shake her own personal alarm shut off and the Phoenix disintegrated.
The wand was swiftly tucked into her coat pocket, hidden from the public eye by thick fabric and a row of maroon buttons. It wasn't the most secure place, but it was the best anyone could do without inhibiting on the time it might take to whip it out again. Aurelia took a quick glance in the mirror. She had never been one to care much about whether she looked presentable or not, but the Congress called for all their employees to at least look tidy whilst there.
Wizards and Witches alike made a great effort to use public transport whenever possible. Aurelia endeavored to do the same... most of the time. There were just some days where sitting for longer than necessary on a bus full of sweaty workers wasn't all that appealing. This was one of those days. In an instant the girl had disapparated from her small apartment and appeared again in an empty corner of the street.
