Five stones in the courtyard. PV • A. Valentine

Monday. Aurelia Valentine finished her History of Magic homework—an essay where she had to write a 10-inch essay about Soap Blizzards—such a bizarre event in London. The young badger managed, of course, known for her love of essays. She was clutching her copy of A History of Magic against her chest as she hummed contentedly, her Mary Jane’s making a rhythmic clicking sound against the stone corridors, heading towards the Transfiguration Courtyard just to feel and appreciate the autumn air before heading back on completing her assigned readings.

Her unkempt, wiry curls bounced in every step as her hand gripped the leather strap of her satchel, a satchel that is opened at this very moment with the amount of books Aurelia checked out from the library as she was bothering to write about werewolves. They are crammed neatly inside, of course, but it is a wonder why her inkwells aren't smashed inside. The zipper and the metal locks couldn't hold in those thick, heavy tomes, and therefore left open for everyone to see. Aurelia raises a thick, challenging eyebrow if anyone bothers to stare after the fact.

“Oh, bliss,” Aurelia muttered to herself as soon as her leather shoes reached the mossy ground of the Transfiguration Courtyard, immediately greeted by the autumn breeze as it swept past her; her bushy hair caressed and billowing lightly along with her perfectly pressed Hufflepuff robes. The wonders of nature, one might have been a dark wizard or a renowned criminal and yet still graciously embraced by the wind. It doesn't pick anyone, everyone deserves a loving and appreciative embrace.

Collecting all of her curls and tucking it with her black walnut wand, the young Hufflepuff witch walked around the courtyard to observe the scene. There are students who play a game of Gobstones in the other corner of the area, laughing and snickering as soon as one of the stones squirts a foul odour. Honestly, she did not find the allure of those types of games. On the other side, older students, might be a couple of Seventh Years, are pirouetting, for unknown reasons. Rehearsal Room existed for a reason, as far as Aurelia had known. Whatever floats their boat, actually.

Aurelia squinted her eyes when she saw a rather pale figure near her, with shockingly bright, platinum blond hair. So shiny that it might be reflecting the sunlight off his head. A Slytherin, she noticed. He's seated on the dusty, mossy ground, his back hunched, a copy of Lord of the Flies on his knee. The young badger quipped an eyebrow, scooting slowly to see better. She had never read Lord of the Flies before, although she has received that every British kid might have been required to read material of William Golding. Well, she might be American, then. She did not care about human nature portrayed by several stupid boys stranded on an island. They have a copy, of course, at home; she couldn't just care less to pick it up and read it. Animal Farm by George Orwell portrayed human nature better, in her very honest opinion—if anyone cares to hear what she has to say, for that matter.

ALL ANIMALS ARE EQUAL, BUT SOME ANIMALS ARE MORE EQUAL THAN OTHERS. Brilliantly written, if Aurelia could say so herself. If only she could discuss how it portrayed greediness and manipulation.

The Slytherin boy is not reading the Lord of the Flies though, he's simply playing cubes with assorted colours, balancing it on the book. The young badger leaned in, watching him play. She did not understand the mechanics of the game at first, but as soon as the boy reached catching three cubes at once as he tossed them, that's where she acknowledged that she didn't know the game at all. Her dark eyebrows creased as she watched, clutching her History of Magic textbook against her chest as she slightly leaned in. Her wild, wiry curls obscured the sunlight, making a shadow over the Slytherin boy’s business.

“Sorry,” Aurelia immediately tried to say, her deep brown eyes slightly wide.

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First and foremost, Aurelia half-expected the Slytherin boy to ignore her and continue on with his game, which consisted of ceramic cubes. The fact that his striking blue-coloured eyes looked like it did most of the talking; they are already exuding something akin to comprehensible, receiving the message that she was, of course, intruding in his business. The young badger couldn't form an opinion much, as she was particularly confused with where the moment was itching to head. She tilted her head slightly, her wiry curls following the movement as she wondered what he was thinking. That emotionless expression gave away nothing. Even slight dislike would have been acceptable to see in his otherwise pale pallor, as being uncertain about something did make Aurelia feel rather disturbed.

The young badger tightened her grip around the History of Magic textbook, quipping an eyebrow after the implications that she needed help with homework. She is doing fine, the professor told her that it is difficult to earn O’s in History of Magic and it is commendable that Aurelia achieved that. If someone here needed help with academics, it most likely would not be her. Clearing her throat to emphasise self-importance, Aurelia straightened her back.

“No thanks. I've been earning consecutive O’s from my homeworks, just laying it out there,” the young Hufflepuff witch mentioned proudly, her voice high-pitched as if meant to catch attention. She lifted her chin up high, her nose might be higher compared to her wiry curls. She did not like being regarded as someone who might or look like she needed help when she's doing fine on her own, unlike some who need to study with a group. Not that it was a bad thing, however, doing it alone is impressive enough to mention.

The boy, clearly, looked unimpressed though. Still, that is nothing Aurelia wasn't familiar with. She sees them in her peers’ faces back in her former schools whenever she brags, she will see them again now in Hogwarts. Nothing new about that; the only thing that's changed is the locations where she showcases her academic capabilities. Her shadow still obscuring the boy’s game, Aurelia watched as the Slytherin boy played again as if to dismiss her presence. Normally, Aurelia would not take that kindly as being ignored is what she deemed is the worst thing that could happen to her in this world; yet she gave him his space.

“What are you playing?” Aurelia couldn't help but ask, stepping out of the way, her Mary Jane scratching the mossy ground as she tentatively took a step back.

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Some people are unaware of the fact that the world is, unfortunately, competitive. That in order to mark the world in one’s imprint, one should be better than most of the people who graciously inhibit this large ball of soil. People compete because they think that the resources are scarce and it is only a matter of time before one is going to be deprived, and Aurelia is clearly one of them. She tries her damnedest to be the best, she works, all-in, to be superior to others. It is clearly paying off, her blood, sweat, and tears are clearly rewarded by these outstanding scores and praises she receives from her professors. It is a wonder to her why some people do not aim for eternal glory, even after registering the fact that the person wearing an emotionless mask in front of her is sorted in Slytherin and should know the importance of victory.

Aurelia tilted her head inquisitively, slightly amused and somewhat bewildered with the genuine question the Slytherin boy posed. Hogwarts is a school, an educational institution that ranks students by their academic performance. If there is something to be competitive about, naturally the young badger is ambitious enough to reach for the stars and crush them right in her palms. Winning is an achievement, therefore getting outstanding grades and being ranked higher than other students meant she's superior to them. That's how the world works and that's how it works inside the school too.

“Yes, I do believe that.” The young Hufflepuff witch admitted unashamedly. Her deep brown eyes fluttered, as if expecting to get a reaction from a whole new light. No use feeling abashed for aiming to win, as victory is something someone should proudly reach for.

Leaning in, Aurelia listened to his brief explanation. Five stones. She hadn't heard of that particular game before. In her defence, she doesn't play games that improve one’s dexterity, as she hadn't found any reason to. Why would she, as the only game she played involves strategy and critical thinking? It improves problem-solving too, which she found very much convenient to develop. Chess, of course, which she now calls Muggle Chess as she enjoys herself using her own set of Wizard’s Chess.

She gripped the strap of her leather satchel, slinging it securely over her shoulder when the Slytherin boy stood up, collecting all of his ceramic stones and tucking the copy of Lord of the Flies underneath his arm. Aurelia expected him to leave, as she understands, someone spontaneously striking a conversation to you seems very much overwhelming; thinking about it also made her feel anxious, feeling the urge to bite her nails to soothe herself. Once she became aware of herself doing something out of the ordinary, like randomly speaking to a stranger, really did bother her.

However, the Slytherin boy did not walk away from her and instead offered her the ceramic stones. The said stones glinted under the stream of the sunlight with its polished finish, forcing her deep brown eyes to squint slightly from the unprecedented reflection. She meets his pale eyes, scanning his features as immediate distrust appeared subconsciously in her mind like a sprout; expecting a trap of some sort. She stood there idly like a statue, before cramming her copy of A History of Magic carefully in her otherwise already packed leather satchel. Aurelia rolled her shoulders from the weight before offering an open palm.

“Teach me how to play this game. Do not expect a lot, of course, I've never played this game before and I might not do well in the first try. In fact, it's guaranteed.”


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