By the time Azzure left the Gryffindor Common Room and made her way down the tower, it was already 8 am. The halls of Hogwarts bustled with soft chatter and laughter at every turn. Which by itself wasn't unusual, with new first years and all-of-the-sort, Azzure couldn't deny that Hogwarts has been particularly lively, but something about today felt different.
It wasn't until she turned the corner did she realize why–– On the large bulletin board in the Entrance Hall was a gorgeous poster—
‘We are calling you to join us for the 2025 Autumn Ball, The Enchanted Depths.’
‘Ahhh…’Azzure thought to herself, ‘So it's that time again.’
The last time Azzure attended a ball was with Violence, and arguably, the only good thing about that ball was her. Now that she didn't have contact with Vi, Azzure loathed the notion of attending the ball. She wouldn't be one of those people whose able to attend alone. It's just simply not worth it if it's not Violence she has her arm around.
Ever since Azz met her, it felt like her world found new meaning. It was reckless and it was raw, but it was real. She felt like a fire in the coldest winter–– she stayed when no one else would, even in Azzure’s worst moments, Violence was always there beside her. She knew every scar that marred Azz’s body, every pitch black thought that kept her up at night, she knew it all and yet with a kind gaze like the gentle sea, Vi
loved her.
It felt wrong to go with anyone else.
However the fact still stands that what happened between them ended in the summer, Azz didn’t even know if Vi still liked her. Over the summer Azzure lost count of the amount of times she tried to formulate any words in her head to say to Violence, but everytime the mere thought of writing a letter to her felt overwhelming. There was too much to say, too much she couldn’t put into words— too much she didn't want to tell her.
And yet, Azzure found herself walking through hallways, checking every door in hopes she’ll find her. Her eyes light up at every brunette she passes, wondering if maybe–– just maybe if they talked, if Azzure apologized, then maybe there was still a chance that it could be them.
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As Azzure approached the corner she heard muffled chatting,
'A group perhaps?’ Azzure thought to herself as she rounded the corner. But the sight in front of her stopped her in her steps. It was Violence,her brown hair, her blue eyes, her smile. It was her. Azzure felt a heart pound in her chest, a small smile appearing on her lips as she took in the sight of Violence.
‘You haven’t changed at all’, Azz mused to herself, the corner of her eyes tugging up ever so slightly in mirth.
However just as Azz was about to walk towards Violence, a new voice called out–– and her heart dropped. Azzure froze midstep, her eyes drifting to a boy she recognized, his ginger hair gleaming in the sunlight. The albino could do nothing as Dennis ran up to Violence–– his audacity hadn’t changed since last year when he stole her for a dance from right under her nose, and now Azzure could only watch in frozen regret as he stole Violence from her once more.
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Azzure fled the scene. She couldn’t bear to watch whatever their conversation was; it'll just end up in losing Vi again.
‘Maybe she really doesn't love me anymore.’
Azzure couldn't do anything now, but roam the halls, walking without knowledge of destination or care about surroundings. Azzure just wanted to be anywhere away from there. She was lost in her own thoughts. She knew Vi had the autonomy to choose and if she lost feelings for her, Azzure could do nothing but accept that fact, but the idea of everything that they’ve done together, all the moments they spent with one another all being reduced to a mere memory never happened again, it hurt.
Azzure ran as far away as she could, because that’s all she could do. She can’t just go back in Violence’s life and demand things from her. If violence was happy with Dennis, who was Azz to stop her? But still, a part of Azzure wanted to preserve what they had–– if not as lovers, then as friends. So even if it hurt, even if she was jealous of that ginger, Azzure wanted to talk to her at least one more time, at least, if only to say sorry. The problem is, she didn't know how to even approach Violence about this without it being insanely awkward.
‘Damn it, love will be the death of me. Azzure sighed out.
Before she knew it, Azzure found herself in the courtyard–– the home of her 3am bouts of overthinking last year. It's almost funny how despite everything old habits still die hard. Looking around for a seat, Azz spotted an empty space on a bench next to a certain pink haired icon she was fortunate enough to be able to call her friend.
Azzure’s eyes lit up the moment she spotted Mamori, casually minding his business and still serving face like it was his job. They only shared a few classes, and somehow, his mere presence always managed to light up the room in a way that sticks with you for the rest of the day.
‘He’s the perfect teacher!’ she internally squealed as a devious plan began to form.
Azzure walked up to Mamori with a mischievous smirk on her face as she called out to him.
“Mori! Can I sit next to you? I have a favour I need to ask of you.” Azzure spoke, her voice gentle as she looked down on the pink haired boy, his bright turquoise eyes shining in contrast to his yellow Hufflepuff robes, highlighting his model-like-beauty even more,
'Oh, he would be the perfect charisma teacher.’
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TBC...
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