Part 7 ~ Letters
The day after the occurrence in the library, Aurora still was feeling no better. In fact, she was beginning to feel worse as with every muttered insult from one of her classmates she further regretted not even finding out the girl's name. It was all because of Gent. If such a thing truly were possible, her loathing for him was deepening. She was particularly upset that the whole thing was ruining her mood on Halloween, her favorite holiday.
She constantly reminded herself that the festivities wouldn't have been much fun anyway, since she had to sit with the rest of the Slytherins and listen to their asinine remarks. Apparently, for some reason, even the smartest people felt the need at one time or another to engage in ridiculously stupid humor. (Although she was somewhat revolted by the notion, Aurora was certain that she was no exception to the rule.) But still…Didn't they ever stop thinking it was funny to call her a Ravenclaw? Was it really THAT entertaining?!
It was her feelings of regret, though, that eventually drove her prematurely out of the Great Hall, while her carousing classmates stayed to feast and insult one another. She trudged up and down twelve flights of stairs to the Slytherin Common Room, but when she finally reached the entrance, she realized that she really didn't want to go in. Sighing, she slumped down against the wall. What she really needed was some fresh air. She wondered if she would get in trouble for going up to the high north tower at night. It was only a bit after nine o' clock, though…Yes, she would go. More than anything else at the moment, she wanted—no, needed—a taste of chilly, crisp October air without having to share it with anyone else.
Unfortunately, when she slipped though the threshold at the end of the top staircase into the clear nigh, Aurora discovered that she was not the only one to have the idea. Someone else was standing at the edge of the roof, leaning against the stone battlements, back toward her and face toward the stars.
Wait. She knew that tall, lank figure…that rigid stance…that unwashed hair…
HolymotherofGodit'sSnapeohshitifheseesmehe'sgonnasnapandgivemedetentionforweekssinceI'mnotsupposedtobehereand
She dropped noiselessly to the cool stone and shimmied underneath a bench. With trepidation, she watched as at last he turned his gaze away from the cloudless sky and stalked past her hiding place. Man, did he look pissed about something. Was that why he hadn't spotted her?
Judging Snape safely out of hearing range, Aurora emerged and ambled to the outer edge that overlooked the dark woods and a tiny, shimmering sliver of the great lake. During the day, the dark forms of mountains could be spied in the distance, but at night they blended deliciously into the sky, a sea of deep black. The air smelled fantastic—just like rain. So clean and fresh and sweet. She couldn't fully enjoy it, though, so long as the image of Snape's embittered visage pervaded her memory. It reminded her only too well of her classmates' cruelty. Damn it! Those stupid Slytherins could ruin anything, no matter how perfect…
When the chill air began to numb her fingers, she returned to her dormitory. The other girls all were already asleep, the drapes shut defensively around their beds. Aurora's owl, resting on his perch on her nightstand, fluttered his wings softly as a greeting. She was a bit surprised to see him, as she expected him to be out on a night so beautiful as this one.
"What is it, Gestalt?" she whispered. He hooted softly in response, then, to her surprise, flapped his wings a few times and hopped onto her bed. She pushed back the curtains and saw, lying propped up on her pillow, a blue book. When she lifted the cover, a bit of parchment slid out and fluttered to the floor. Picking it up, she read:
I told my owl what you looked like, and he's good at finding people, so hopefully you've gotten this. Here is the book; I couldn't ever find you apart from those wretched classmates of yours. I assume they're the reason you ran away from me in the library? Don't worry, I understand. I heard some of the things they said to you (did you notice our houses have Herbology together?)
Anyhow, you don't have to write back, but if you want to, my name is Claire Vance. I promise I wouldn't let on to the Slyths—
Claire.
The last few words were blurred by Aurora's tears.
* * * * *
Nov. 2
I'm so glad Jeremiah (my owl) was able to find you. Gestalt is very sweet. Does he like the little red owl treats? If so, I'll give him some of Jere's next time.
Did you finish your D.A.D.A. essay?
Claire
Nov. 15
Ha ha ha. She does look like one, doesn't she?
Say, I saw that Jacob Gent kid in the hall today. It was really crowded so when I passed him I gave him a good kick in the shin and he couldn't tell who it was. Ha ha.
Professor Flibbett says we should get the essays back in the next few days. I'm pretty anxious because I'm afraid I might have gone a little off-topic. I just got a little carried away with my research.
Are you ready for the big Charms test? I'm getting together with some friends to study tomorrow. I wish you could come =(
Claire
Dec. 11
Wow, I was counting your letters today. Thirty-one! They don't even fit in my drawer any more unless I perform a shrinking spell on them.
I'm glad my advice works for you. I know I kind of give it a lot, and it sometimes makes people mad. Although that's usually when I'm warning them that a boy doesn't like them or something. Ha ha! People usually tell me that I generally give good advice, but you're the first person to say that everything I tell you seems right. (Guess I've got YOU fooled! Ha ha ha!)
I've noticed that you've seemed a bit cheerier in your more recent letters. Are the Slyths starting to leave you alone? I hear Gent's found a new victim. A Gryf, right? Well, I guess that's the way things are supposed to go…
When is the Yule Ball? Do you know? Are you going to go? I'm not into the whole dance/date thing, but it sounds like a lot of fun. I thought I heard that this year they might make it a masquerade ball! (???) That would be VERY fun. Maybe we could even all charm our voices so that NOBODY will be able to recognize anyone else.
Hey, but you and I could think up a code-phrase or something, so then we could actually talk at the ball without anyone knowing!
Uh oh, Professor Slimyface is giving me the evil eye. I better go quickly before he realizes I'm not taking notes!
Claire