Aurora plopped down against her favorite tree carelessly with a huff.  Ignoring the bark scraping her back through her sweater, she threw her school bag a great distance to her left dismissively.  She rested the back of her head against the tree and closed her eyes, breathing furiously through her flared nostrils.  Her hands gripped her propped up knees as if it was the only thing keeping her from floating away.  In one clenching fist contained a crumpled up letter from her adopted father, Eric.

Rolling her head to her left, she opened one eye to see the result of one of her rare bouts of anger sitting in a pile of mud.  Groaning in frustration, she whipped her wand out of her left buckle boot and used Wengardium Leviosa to bring it back to her side.  After using Scourgify to clean it and putting her wand away, she hesitantly reopened the letter in her fist, reading it again solemnly.

~~~
Dear Aurora,

     I have received news that some Aurors in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement are just now picking up the case regarding your mother's untimely and mysterious death.  As you know, after Muggle authorities claimed it to be of unknown causes, the case was disregarded and took a few years for the Ministry to hear of it.

     I don't know why they've decided to start the investigations now, after all these years, but they informed me they want to bring you in for questioning.  I told them they can go stuff it, and that you were already harassed by the Muggle authorities at a young age but they were adamant for your input.

     I'm sorry, darling.  I understand if you're upset by this news, but maybe your mother's mysterious death will finally be solved.  Isn't that what you wanted, anyway?

Yours truly,
Eric

     P.S. I hope you enjoyed those new paints and brushes I got you for your birthday last month.  It took me forever to find them and there are none finer.
~~~

With unexpected rage, she crumpled the letter in her fist again and lit it on fire with her wand (which had somehow regained its place in her hand).  She watched with grim satisfaction as the letter turned to ash and floated away from her open palm.  They're just now investigating her death?  It's been eight years, for Maker's sake, she thought bitterly and closed her eyes tightly, shaking her head.  The last time I broke down at all was when she died... she realized in disgust and groaned in frustration.  Compose yourself, she told herself repeatedly like she had been doing for the past eight years.

Continuing on his antics from the morning, Vulpes found himself wandering around the school grounds. He was in an odd sorts of mood after his first real encounter with Murphy. He hadn't quite expected it to go that way, not that he really was sure what he did expect. His headphones bounced against his chest as he did a sort of slow motion prance.

As he came upon a cluster of trees he heard a rather frustrated groan. He stopped mid-step and looked around for the noise. His ears weren't used to being so exposed, so the noise, while distant, seemed to come from all directions. Vulpes spun on the spot, looking every which way, even in the branches of the trees thinking someone may be in them. With a confused glance back over his shoulder, Vulpes was about ready to continue hopping along sorting out his problems when he finally noticed her.

She was a Gryffindor girl from his year, but Vulpes knew for a fact he had never spoken to her in their five years of school, he didn't even know her name to tell the truth. Even from this distance he could tell something was troubling her, and a thought that he should offer any sort of help compelled him. So with great nerve he set off towards her, pushing his current thoughts to teh back of his mind. 'I feel like Cytherea...' he thought to himself when he came within a few feet of her. Vulpes stopped a moment, considering this course of action. Maybe she didn't want to be disturbed? He shrugged, if she wanted him to leave he'd gladly comply.

Vulpes stepped a few feet in front of her and sat, crossing his legs. He was quiet for a moment, not quite sure what to say. "Something wrong?" managed to slip out before he could stop himself or think of anything better. But now that the words were out, he may as well see where they took him.

Snapping her eyes open at the sudden movement around her, she craned her neck and spotted a peculiar-looking Slytherin boy.  Keeping her face frozen in a blank expression, she eyed him as he stalked over to her and sit down.  What on earth does he think he's doing? she asked herself in wonderment.  A moment of awkward silence was finally broken by the boy's even more awkward question.

"Something wrong?" he asked.  She fought back the urge to snort in amusement or glare at him mercilessly.  Instead, she remained stony-faced and unperturbed as she placed her wand back in her boot without tearing her eyes off of him.  Aurora had noticed the boy before, but had never gone further than being a quiet observer.  She knew his name: Vulpes Connor.  Being the classic loner she is, she doubted he knew hers.

After another long moment of awkward silence between them and an unblinking stare from Aurora, she spoke up.  "Yes," she said simply and indifferently.  "Thank you for your concern, but it is not necessary to linger for my sake," she added; her Icelandic accent ever-present.  This is the first time anyone has ever approached me, Aurora realized idly.  She was mildly surprised that the Slytherin boy approached Aurora in the first place, since she usually gives off a cold and aloof vibe.

Don't give anything away.  You've gone eight years without showing your emotions, you can go a little longer. she prepped herself as the battle raged beneath the surface.

A smile crossed Vulpes's face at her comment. "That's a line I've heard myself say," he said softly. Deep down, Vulpes had hoped that she would confide in him but he hadn't really expected her to elaborate. So he wasn't overly surprised that she chose not too. Besides, at least she admitted something was wrong. A lot of people wouldn't do even do that.

There was another rather awkward silence as he sat facing her. Vulpes wasn't quite sure what to say to the girl, he had never really talked to anyone about their personal problems (well, anyone other than his sister, but she wore her heart on her sleeve.), and didn't really want to be intrusive.

He thought about it a moment, choosing his words carefully. "Well," he said slowly, still smiling warmly at the girl. "If you don't want to talk about it I won't force you." Vulpes suppressed a yawn and leaned back onto his elbows. "I could just sit here and keep you company. If you want it..." He added that last part rather quickly. He had the strangest suspicion he was about to be hit.

Aurora watched in mild amusement as Vulpes fumbled inwardly at the awkwardness of the situation.  He was trying to think of something to say, but was coming up short, she noticed, which added to her curiosity.  Why hasn't he left yet?  I told him it wasn't necessary. she wondered suspiciously, eyes trained on him.  He doesn't want me to share, does he?  A long moment of silence fell between them once more, and Aurora was about to tell him again he can leave, but he spoke up first.

"If you don't want to talk about it I won't force you." he said and smiled warmly at her, causing Aurora's mouth to twitch oddly.  Vulpes leaned back on his elbows casually and offered to keep her company if she wanted it.  This is certainly new, she thought in mild curiosity as she continued to stare at him.  The Maker sure does have a sense of humour, leading him here of all places.  Aurora thought about telling Vulpes to leave, but decided against it.  It shouldn't be up to me.  If he wants to stay, he can stay, but I won't promise him anything.  I'm not a sharer or a socially adept person, so it's up to him.  She sighed lightly and narrowed her gaze at Vulpes.

"Why on earth would you want to keep me company?  Isn't there the whole thing about House rivalry?" she asked pointedly.  "You don't even know my name;" she said evenly and crossed her arms over her knees.  Well, he probably doesn't know my name, anyway.  I can't imagine why he would know in the first place.  "It's Aurora, by the way," she clarified indifferently, "Aurora Bainsadottir."  Furrowing her eyebrows slightly at the sensation of her voice cracking a bit as she spoke, she realized it must be from the lack of use.  I really don't talk to anyone, so my throat isn't used to it. she reasoned and started warming up her vocal cords by humming to herself, still looking at him.

He'll leave soon enough, once I've shut him out...

Vulpes relaxed slightly, seeing that she wouldn't smack him for intruding. He sat back up, lifting his knee to lean on. A mild interest began leading his thoughts. It was rather incredible that by this point she hadn't personally asked him to leave, and Vulpes couldn't quite think of why. "You're right," Vulpes said calmly. "I don't, well didn't, know your name. But I don't really know anyone's name unless they're in my House." An awkward smile crossed his face, and he once again thought he might be struck.

"Aurora Bainsadottir..." he muttered more to himself for memory. "So would you rather I call you by your first or last name? Vulpes Connor, by the by," Vulpes casually pointed to himself.

His thoughts meandered for a moment to his memory of music, and he swayed slightly as he continued. "As for 'house rivalry'," he said with a bored voice. "My lil' sister is in Gryffindor, our closest aged cousin is Ravenclaw, and our older cousins were both Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff, respectively." Vulpes gave Aurora a sweet smile. "And I have a thing for a Gryffindor girl. The rivalry doesn't mean much to me."

"'Course that may change if I go for Chaser next year."

Vulpes crossed his legs again and stretched his back, feeling slight pleasure as his body loosened up. For a conversation between two people who had never spoken previously, it seemed to be going rather well. He kept his warm smile and bobbed slightly with the beat of his internal music. It was a rather nice day to be alive.

Aurora listened as Vulpes admitted not knowing her name.  Feeling the corners of her mouth beginning to form into a smirk, she licked her lips and managed to keep her composure.  "I actually knew your name from before," she admitted simply.  "Though I never talk to people, I know more than one might think." she added evenly and straightened her back against the tree.  Wincing at the slight pain of her scraped back, she eased off the tree and leaned forward more.

"I just go by Aurora." she clarified lightly, relieved her normally quiet voice didn't crack.  She watched curiously as Vulpes started swaying and talk about House Rivalry.  I didn't actually assume he believed in House Rivalry, but it's refreshing to know the diversity of a peer's point of view. she thought idly and felt a little weird seeing him smile sweetly at her.  Nodding a fraction of an inch, she looked down at her crossed arms and thought about what Vulpes said.  Her tied back auburn hair didn't hide her face like she was used to, so her unease was evident.

"The separation of Houses is a joke," she blurted out awkwardly and mentally kicked herself.  Why did I just blurt that out?  I'm never one to speak without thinking, she furrowed her eyebrows and scolded herself.  Recklessness is not like you, Aurora, knock it off.

"I apologize," she said lowly and looked up at him blankly.  "Don't mind my inappropriate bouts of commentary.  I'm not used to interacting with people."

A much broader smile crossed Vulpes's face. This was indeed improving his mood. He laughed slightly as she tried to cover what he assumed was a rare outburst for her. "Aurora," he said still chuckling. "I'm pretty sure an 'inappropriate bout of commentary' is called a conversation." Vulpes grinned at her.

In all honesty she reminded him of himself a few months ago. He hadn't spoken to anyone, and when he did he often said things without realizing it. Eventually that ended as he became more comfortable speaking randomly with others he didn't know. Or as his sister would call it, as he made friends.

Then again he still blurted out random stuff when he was nervous. That was evident from his conversation about twenty minutes ago with Murphy. Murphy... the thought of her stopped his train of thought. The music seemed to die away and he stopped swaying, gazing off into the distance as his smile fell off his face. He wondered if she meant what she had said to him. She probably did, why else would she say it?

Vulpes blinked, realizing he had blanked out completely. Rather embarrassed he turned back to Aurora. "Oh," He said blushing slightly. "Sorry, I uh... I zone out sometimes."

Aurora eased up a little at his reassuring words and broad smile.  That's how you strike up a conversation, then?  It's a bit... brash. she thought curiously.  Indeed, I'm never one to strike up a conversation.  Even if I'm involved in one with Eric, it's usually direct answers on my part.  Her thoughts led back to the letter from Eric and she felt an unfamiliar twinge of bitterness in her chest.  Looking out at the lake, she prepared for mental meditation to clear her head of excess thoughts.

I don't need to think about this right now.  There's nothing I can do to change what has happened, so do not dwell on it any further. she told herself repeatedly, reverting back to the lesson she learned when her mother died.  I can kick and scream all I want, but it's not going to bring her back.

"Sorry, I uh... I zone out sometimes." Vulpes said sheepishly, snapping Aurora out of her own reverie.  Turning her head to him full on, she gave a nonchalant sigh.  "I'm not bothered," she said simply with a slight shrug.  She nodded at the headphones around Vulpes's neck.  He always has that with him, I've noticed.  I wonder why.  "What sort of music do you listen to?" she asked casually, trying this new thing called, striking up a conversation.

Again a warm smile crept up on Vulpes. It made life so much easier when people didn't yell at him for completely phasing out randomly. "Oh, classical, mostly." he replied, fiddling with the antennae on his headphones. "I do have a taste for Muggle pop music, but..." He paused trying to think of the best way to describe it. "Well, I usually pick classical because there aren't really any words to sing along to. And if I was listening to pop music everyone would have to hear me warbling."

Vulpes gave a small twitch as he poked himself with a sharp edge he found on the antennae. 'That shouldn't be there', he thought to himself. He pulled the headphones off his neck and set them in his lap, running his fingers over the spot he had felt the sharp point.

"What about you?" he asked, glancing down at his headphones. His fingers had found the point. The cylinder that held the music has split slightly, and a small sliver of metal was sticking out. He pulled out his wand and tapped it, muttering "Reparo," the cylinder reformed into its smooth face. He held the headphones up to his eye and examined it, before slipping them back around his neck. "What kind of music do you listen to?"

Aurora felt a growing admiration for Vulpes and his admission.  He loves classical music?  He looks more like the punk-rocker scream-o type.  Then again, I know better than anyone not to judge someone based on the outside appearance. she thought and felt the corners of her mouth quirk.  A fifteen year-old Slytherin boy and classical music... she mused, moderately impressed.

"What kind of music do you listen to?" he asked casually as he slipped his fixed headphones back around his neck.

Aurora thought about his question seriously and looked out at the lake.  Do I listen to music? she asked herself, and began searching her memories for a time when there might have been music playing in the background when she was young.  The only thing that came to mind was her mother's singing: soft and sweet.  Her mother told her stories about the songs she sang; some were learned while at Beauxbatons, and some were learned by Aurora's father.

She remembered a particular song that became Aurora's favourite, and when she asked her mother where she learned it, she only smiled sadly and said, "Your father,".  The six-year-old version of Aurora felt a swelling of pride and sadness that day.  The fact that she never knew her father grew heavily on her mind, and when she finally asked what happened to him, to learn that he was dead made her understand why her mother sometimes had a longing in her eyes.  Listening to her mother sing her father's song, Aurora knew her father loved her mother very much, since it was made for her.

Aurora sighed deeply and pushed the memories away, looking back at Vulpes.  "I like... my mother's music." she said softly, unable to say more as her throat tightened by mentioning her mother.

Vulpes watched curiously as Aurora's expression changed with her thoughts. He never expected someone to have to think about what kind of music they liked. Most people just knew, and would be able to rattle off a few different types. It was a little strange to bear witness to someone who had to think about it.

"I like... my mother's music." she said softly, looking back at him.

He tilted his head slightly. That wasn't exactly an answer to the question he had posed. It probably would be if he knew her mother, but since he didn't it was still a guess as to what genre she meant. But there was something odd about the way she said it. It was softer, more hesitant. Maybe this was ground Vulpes ought not be treading. Well, he'd soon find out.

"Well..." he began. "What kind of music is your mother's?" Vulpes gave another warm smile. "If its classical and you know any titles I can pull them up for you." He felt a little odd offering this. There probably was a reason she didn't mention any specifics. And it was probably one that she wouldn't tell him.

Aurora couldn't help but crack a half-smile at Vulpes's offering.  "Thanks, but I don't think you'd have them." she said politely.  "I appreciate the offer, but the songs my mother sang were one-of-a-kind.  Songs she learned at school or from my father..." she trailed off and looked out at the lake.  "They were songs of love, mostly.  Some in French, some in Icelandic," she said idly, watching various birds dive after one another above the water's surface.

"My favourite song was actually made by pabbi for mamma.  I try to sing it to myself like she used to, but nothing compares to her voice." she blurted out softly and bit her bottom lip lightly.  "Pabbi is father and mamma is mother, in case you were wondering." she added and looked at him sheepishly.  "Sorry, I sometimes revert back to my native tongue at random times.  Even around Eric," she said softly and realized what she said.

"Eric is my... adopted guardian.  You see, I'm an orphan..." she clarified nervously and looked down at her crossed arms.  Why can't I stop talking?  Stop blurting things out or you'll say too much. she mentally cursed herself and clenched her fists.

Vulpes sat up straighter as she spoke. This was... very unexpected. Very unexpected indeed. Why was she telling him this? he didn't mind that she was confiding in him but... it didn't seem to fit with her. In class she was always silent, cold, aloof. Now here she was telling him about herself on their first meeting. It made him uncomfortable, and he could tell it made her uncomfortable too.

"I'm sorry," he muttered sheepishly. "I can't really fathom what its like to lose both parents." He gave a heavy sigh, unsure what to say next. He had heard once that often times orphans weren't treated very well by their adopties. But even Vulpes had enough tact not to ask that kind of question.

He sat in silence contemplating what to say. A subject change would probably be the best, all things considered. "So..." he trailed off as his mind fished for words. "You're from Iceland, then? Do you remember anything about it?"

Aurora waited in the ever-growing tension of awkward silence between them.  She felt her face heat up in embarrassment from her out-of-the-blue confession.  Conversing was new to Aurora, so every moment that passed made her more and more uneasy, wondering if she was doing the wrong thing.  If the uncomfortable silence between them was any indication, she believed that she was, in fact, doing it all wrong.  "Thank you," she muttered softly at his apology.  Gathering her Gryffindor courage, she straightened up to look at Vulpes when he changed the subject.

"Yes, I remember everything about Iceland," she began lightly.  "I was born and raised in the village of Eyrarbakki, South Iceland.  It's on the coast of the North Atlantic Ocean and is a good place for fishing, hiking and bird-watching.  Mamma and I had a vintage turf-style cottage all to ourselves.  It was a quaint home.  There was an ever-going fire in the fireplace and the whole house always smelled of lavender.  We had a garden out back with all sorts of flowers, fruits and vegetables.  The villagers were always nice and helpful: a real sense of neighborly love and community.  The view was magnificent.  I'd look out my bedroom window and see the ocean.  I'd look out my front door and see the mountains and trees.  The Aurora Borealis was so beautiful..." she trailed off  breathlessly and dropped her gaze at nothing in particular.

"That's actually how I got my name.  I was originally going to be Lilja, but I was born outside under the Aurora Borealis, and mamma was so moved by its beauty, she named me Aurora and had Lilja-Anabelle be my middle name." she added and a smile crept on her face at her reminiscing.  "I've always wondered why I was sent to the orphanage in Britain, rather than go to the one in Iceland..." her eyes narrowed slightly at the contemplation.   "Ég sakna heimili mitt," she said more to herself.