I got fight in these roses

[Aroha Jennings]

Out of Character:

ID #7327017

The wind chilled her to the bone, the same bones that were still tainted by the label which defined her education, her diet, her wellbeing. Sure, Aroha was slowly but surely recovering, having stared down Death a number of times in the course of her illness. But now, walking in the bitter cold, Aroha was at risk of another illness. The flu. Winter in Central Otago was traditionally icey, but at least the winter was beautiful. The small town was surrounded by snow-capped mountains, and little snowflakes drifted lazily to the ground. The plaza was near-silent, residents and tourists turning to giftshops and cafes to avoid being frozen to the ground. Steam was rising gently from the grass, warmer than the air. Aroha was in Twizel. She bit her pale pink lip and wrapped her arms around herself, a habit she'd picked up during her third year at Hogwarts New Zealand. Ha, Aroha thought to herself, a smug grin playing around her mouth. Only a week ago Aroha had heard some of the foreign students complaining about how cold New Zealand was. Perhaps they should be sent to Central, then they'd really have something to complain about. The Gryffindor found the sheltered lives of her peers incredibly funny, especially while parading around in the snow wearing shorts and a teeshirt.

For the last few days, Aroha and her cousins had been dragged around on a tramping trip. Having finished the Huxley Valley, Aroha was now in charge of buying lunch while the others sorted out the packs, before they returned to Dunedin. And heading to the nearby Four Square supermarket, all Aroha could think about was getting home again. Had she known about the Death Eater, Aroha could have had her wand out already.

A twig snapped behind her, but Aroha of course was too preoccupied to notice it, A few stragglers moved around her, heads bowed and offering each other those little nods that you give to say 'hi, I'll talk to you later if it's not too cold.' but never actually pausing to start a conversation. But then another crack, and subconciously Aroha's fingers tensed around her wand. Her heartstrings pulled tight, mind flashing to Tess and how devoted she had been to preserving her niece's life. And then she crumpled. No-one noticed yet the world seemed to stop. Sprawled on the ground with her wand in full view, Aroha May Jennings was dead. She was fourteen years old.</COLOR>

<COLOR color="black">+fall, like you fell from grace.
soft but sweetly say
this is my dying day
and if you don't mind, I would like to
fly
fly far away.
--Gin Wigmore, Dying Day.​

 

[Abigail Lurken-Mckay]

Twizel, Abigail Lurken's home as for right now. She wondered the streets alone, for now. She did not have to wear maternity clothing right now thankfully. She were only three months along. Though if she wore tight tops, her bump would surely show. It was tiny now, but still, Abbey did not want to show to the whole world that she was pregnant. She was just a seventh year now. And she would be a mother soon. Things could not be much worst in Abbey's eyes. She had recently broken the news to Luciano, and now she was on the way back to her own house from Saint Mungo's on the check up. She could see what the baby would be in another month, and that was exciting actually. She would know what to buy, dresses or sporting clothing. She also wondered what was going on with her family right now. How did she hide her pregnancy? A really large shirt while she was around, but they had to know eventually.

Something seemed a little off about today. Raising an eyebrow, her amethyst eyes glanced around to see a few hooded figures but they were too vague to really see clearly. She thought that there could have been witches and wizards out, but in muggle view? Abbey did not know what to think. Instead, she used her instincts to follow where the figures had departed, and her boots pounded the ground as she felt something cold and eerie crept along her skin. Then, she saw her. Aroha Jennings from school laying on the ground. Abbey immediately hid the wand, and she lightly touched the cold body. She bit her lip and she uttered, "Oh...Merlin..." Abbey glanced around, and saw that there would be no one coming. The cause of death was not something Abbey knew, but she did not see the hooded figures. It could have been anyone. Abbey lifted the young girl into her arms but did not stand up. It was true that she was dead. How could anyone heartlessly kill an innocent. Abbey ran off in search for some help, to make sure that Aroha Jennings, a young Gryffindor, would at least be buried safely. That Gryffindor would never see graduation, and never even become a third year. It was far too much for Abbey to comprehend.