𝘁𝗶𝗰𝗸 𝘁𝗼𝗰𝗸, harry potter

˗ˋ 56

CHAPTER FIFTY SIX
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-: fifth year :-

── IN WHICH THE
PERFORMANCE BEGINS

. . .

Aviana's life, for as long as she could remember, had been a performance. Everything about being her William and Eleanora Rosier's daughter was to pretend that everything was okay, that the rigid rules and expectations set on her, like so many of the other pureblood Slytherins she was close with, weren't slowly breaking down much of the will to continue. To push aside the constant correction of her manners, the use of her mother's fingers to brush out uneven curls of her hair and to wipe smudged makeup away, the ability for anything and everything she had ever wanted to suddenly appear right in front of her, there seemed to be no true love there. 

There was no true love, that feeling that she had been getting every time she wouldn't hear from or see her parents from weeks on end, when they were hardly home when she returned from school was proven true the very minute her father went to prison and her mother decided to leave for France and to not even wake her. 

Her father was in Azkaban, she didn't know where her mother was, and there was all that concern for two people who weren't even her real parents. Not that it mattered anyway, the only people who knew about that was either an escaped convict confined once more to his childhood home and a group of people she would not dare admit that she had spoken to on any occasion. 

And now, she was secretly fake-dating Harry Potter for an audience of a single, horrible person, simply to fuel the fire of hatred that burned in her soul for anyone who dared defied her medieval beliefs and methods. 

Now that she had Sirius, Aviana didn't care nearly as much about the fact that Umbridge had sentenced her father to life in Azkaban; she abhorred the crimes he had committed and William had been lying to her for the entirety of her life. Of course, the matter of principles were still very much there; she had still suffered watching through as the court decided on his punishment for something, and she had watched as, in the final voting for a sentence, as the woman who was wearing a pale pink tweed suit beneath her dark robes rose her hand whilst smiling, simpering down at the audience. 

Aviana had still seen the man, who she then regarded to be her father, sent to prison by that woman. The details were muddy now, but her initial hatred for Umbridge remained the same. Now, it was only exacerbated by the constant build-up of factors and even if she didn't necessarily have the same intentions of consistently trying to disapprove what the Daily Prophet and the Ministry had attempted to silence in the return of Voldemort, but they were sharing those horrific detentions every night and somehow those differences between them simmered down to nothing at all. 

Which meant she was more than happy with the plan she had thought up. No, unlike what she had told Draco, she wasn't going to shag Harry Potter and what happened in their detentions was nothing like a date, but sure, she was happy with kissing him every now and again. And he wasn't that bad at it and somewhat good looking, which helped. Sure, they had a little practising and getting used to do... but Aviana was prepared to help. 

And after the obvious disgust she had seen in Umbridge's eyes when she turned that corner she knew that this whole performance was only going to propel the woman's hatred of them further, and lead to more misdoings on their behalves and, thus, more pointless behaviour points and notices that would help others in seeing her complete inability to do anything resembling teaching.

So, every waking moment that the two of them spent in front of her would become a part of that performance.

But at breakfast the next morning, they had to be more than careful about it. 

Dressed in an outfit that was certainly not regulation uniform - as usual - Aviana led the way for her usual group into the Great Hall that morning, giving no more than a thought towards the Gryffindor table as they passed. Pansy and Theo in tow, she sat down at the Slytherin table, engaging in that easily annoying conversation with Pansy and continuing her usual behaviours of ignoring Theo. 

But her attention seemed to be elsewhere, flitting over the rest of the room in simple, easily hidden, easily explained movements. Harry, quite frankly, looked like he had seen a ghost - and it helped that he had always had that obliviously obvious habit of staring at her anyway... perhaps she should have thought this through a little more, but that didn't matter now. 

She reached for the milk for her coffee, her gaze resting for a moment on the table at the head of the hall and found that uneasy glare upon her once again, and balancing her hand on her chin, placing the jug of milk down, slowly beginning to stir it into her coffee her eyes met Harry's. 

Aviana smiled, head tilting as she winked at him, stirring blindly. He shook his head slowly, disbelief seeping into his eyes at her actions. Plain to see, yet so easily concealed. Still directed towards him, her thumb below the silver chain of her necklace, placing with the ring that hung there. 

Across the hall, in a sea of red and gold ties, Harry watched her, a memory from the night before playing over and over as the conversation that Ron and Hermione were having faded into fuzzy nothingness. 

He was beginning to think that maybe he should have thought this through a little more, because there was something in him that told him he was going to enjoy this façade far more than he should. 

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