DID YOU EVER HEAR ABOUT THE GIRL WHO GOT FROZEN?
TIME WENT ON FOR EVERYBODY ELSE, SHE WON'T KNOW IT.
taylor swift

LUCKY NUMBER SEVEN. Rory noticed him the moment she stepped into the bar. She knew he noticed her. Or maybe he noticed Angelina. Maybe he was looking at her much taller, much more beautiful friend. That would have made sense until he bought Rory a drink. It was something fruity, of course. Rory didn't dislike fruity drinks, just the notion that because she was a woman, she liked them. Also, if she was going to sleep with him, she needed something stronger. So, she got herself a shot, and it was showtime.

She slowly sipped the drink number seven bought her and made eye contact. She giggled softly, as if it surprised her that he was looking at her. That was his invite to occupy the stool next to her that Angelina had vacated to scope out her own prospects.

He wasn't Rory's type at all. She always joked that her type was "dead" because in a way, it was true. However, she developed a dislike for men with a lot of facial hair, blonde men, men who drank beer, and men who tried to talk to her about movies.

Number seven was holding a beer and had a mop of curly blonde hair framing his clean-shaven face. If he opened his mouth and told her she looked like Helena Bonham Carter from afar, she would excuse herself to the bathroom and never come back. Her standards were fifty percent. If a man possessed fifty percent of her turnoffs, it was a no go.

"Thanks for the drink," she smiled as he approached.

"Don't mention it," he shrugged. Rory dissected his accent as he spoke. He was Welsh. That factor diversified her repertoire if they went back to hers. She had never slept with a Welsh man before.

"You're very pretty," he said.

"Oh," she said, sounding surprised even though she wasn't (Rory knew she was very pretty but men preferred if she didn't). "Thank you."

"So, what's your name?"

Rory tucked a lock of brown hair behind her ear and rubbed the lip gloss between her lips, tasting the sticky cherry flavor as some entered her mouth. "I'm Aurora. You are?"

"Pretty name, Aurora," he smiled. "I'm..."

The moments before a man told Rory his name were always excruciating. She had to prepare for anything. What if his name was Rory? She would have to reject him because that would be awkward. If his name was Andrew she'd have to do a polite chuckle and say 'Wow... er... that's my dad's name, actually. Sorry.' And if he had the name of anyone she knew who had died (Fred, Cedric, Aaron), she would have to weasel her way out of that as well.

She had flirted with a Fred before, and an Andrew (before she knew their names, of course). It was terribly awkward.

"Lewys," he said.

She exhaled in relief and subtly bit her bottom lip, "Nice to meet you, Lewys. You come here alone?"

He shook his head, "Nah. I came here with my flatmate, but... I can't seem to find him. I assume he went off with some girl. He always does. You?"

"I came here with my friend," she nodded. "I dunno where she went."

"You from London? What do you do?"

"Yeah," she said. "I'm a teacher... well, not yet, but I will be."

"Ah," he beamed. "My mum is a teacher."

Literally why the fuck would you say that? Don't mention your mum when trying to sleep with me, she thought.

"I work with computers," he explained.

Boring.

Number three worked with computers, too. If number seven was anything like number three, she would be in for a disappointing night.

Number one was Fred. Her very loving, very vanilla, very dead first. Number two was a not-so-handsome stranger that she met at a bar a year after Fred died. It was a horrible experience. Number three was a man who worked with computers who finished inside her within three minutes.

Number four was someone Angelina set her up with, some bloke from her Quidditch team. They went on two dates and he was good in bed. She just wasn't ready for anything more. Number five was a woman.... Moving on.

Number six was another one night stand with a man who had facial hair and asked her if she'd ever seen Star Wars, but he drank gin and was a brunette. Overall rating: six out of ten.

Six was not a very high number. There had been more she'd gone home with or went on dates with, but only six she'd slept with.

Sometimes a man would take her back to his and pour her a glass of wine and attempt to pleasure her with an episode of Friends on in the background. Those were half hookups and didn't count.

She knew Lewys would be number seven, though. She could tell when men wanted to just sleep with her and when they wanted to woo her. Lewys was the former. If he wanted to woo her, he would have asked for her name before buying her a drink and also — asked her what drink she even wanted (to show how much he cared about her opinion even if he didn't).

"Computers, wow!" She lied. There was nothing wow about computers. Rory was a witch. Could a computer heal broken bones on the spot or summon objects from across the room? No. They made loud ringing noises and allowed porn to be more accessible. There was nothing wow about that.

"I know," he grinned arrogantly. He paused and looked up with just his eyes, "I love this song. Do you know it?"

Ah, so he wasn't a movie guy, but a music guy.

She nodded, "Yeah. I know Hall and Oates." Who didn't know them? Did he expect her to be totally clueless, thus giving him an opportunity to express his depths of knowledge into her? Nice try, Lewys. Even Aurora knew something as simple as Hall and Oates.

"Yeah, they're great." He said, sipping his beer.

"Why don't we head back to mine, yeah?" She said, taking a final swig of her beverage. She realized how tipsy she actually felt as the various alcohol she had all night was entering her system. "It's pretty loud in here. I live alone so..."

"That sounds great," he nodded.

"I'll be right back. I've got to tell my friend I'm leaving. Stay there."

She got off the stool and looked for Angelina. It wasn't hard to find her since she knew her general area. The girl was chatting it up with a pair of men on the outskirts of the room, tucked in a booth. One of them looked more than happy to be there, the other had on a fake enthusiasm Rory knew all too well.

"Rory!" Angelina smiled. "I'm glad you found me! This is Ezra and this is Cassius. Cassius here was just telling me he's going to be a teacher too! Isn't that exciting! I said to him, 'My best friend Rory is going to be a teacher in September!' And he said, 'So am I'"

The man who looked less enthusiastic just shrugged and said, "It's really not that exciting."

"Sorry, I'm sure this is all very riveting, but I just came to tell you I'm taking someone back to mine now. Are you alright here or do you need me to stay?" Rory asked.

Angelina peered over at the bar, craning her neck with furrowed brows. "Goldilocks over there?"

Rory nodded, "Yeah. He's pretty nice. Welsh, too."

"You can do better," Angelina scoffed. "Welsh smelsh. Stay with us! Although," she leaned in so the others wouldn't hear, "I want Ezra. You can have Cassius, yeah?"

Rory rolled her eyes, "I want to go home anyway. I can't do any more small talk. Sorry lads," she said to the two men, "It was nice meeting you two!"

They gave polite nods and Rory headed back to the bar where Lewys was still waiting.

"Sorry about that," she said. "I don't live far from here so, want to just walk?"

"Sounds good. Nothing like a warm summer stroll."

She let out a small breath that sounded like a half chuckle to validate his attempt at humor. They left and stepped out into the busy streets. She was a fast walker, despite her short height and the heels she was wearing. Lewys was good at keeping up. Now that they were both standing, she could notice the height difference. He was tall. He had to have been over six foot four.

Her flat was only a five-minute walk from the bar, which was partially why she and Angelina chose it for their night out. Rory was feeling very eager as they entered her building. It had been a few months since she had had sex... number six was in December for her birthday celebration. Since then she had two half hookups and neither of them were very climactic for her. She tried to keep her expectations low for men but couldn't help but to feel excited when she took a new one back home.

The flat was dark when they stepped in. Rory flicked on the lights and silently thanked herself that she had remembered to clean before she left.

"Nice place," he nodded. "That's a... huge record collection."

She smiled, "Thanks. I can put one on if you'd like and we can keep having awkward small talk on the couch. Or you can wait for me in the bedroom and we can get right to the sex."

"Sex sounds good to me," he said.

"Perfect. Right through that door. I'll be there in a second, I've just got to freshen up."

She entered the bathroom and shut the door. Quickly, she applied another layer of deodorant and sprayed herself with some cheap perfume. She gave her hair a tousle and nodded with confidence. She looked sexy in her drunken mind.

Rory walked out of her bathroom and into her bedroom where Lewys was waiting at the foot of her bed. She took a deep breath like an athlete before a big game, and in one swift motion, climbed on top of him and kissed him. She pushed him back onto her warm duvet and pinned her knees to either side of him. He seemed to like that.

The rest of the night went how she expected. Sex felt slightly better with a bit of alcohol in her because she wasn't grounded enough to notice any mistakes. He helped her finish after the sex itself, which got him extra points. Overall, Lewys was a whopping seven out of ten. If she were sober, it would be a five. She probably imagined the alleged orgasm because she learned if you tell yourself something enough, you believe it. She was good at faking it though. Her acting fantasy always came true when she was with men from bars or clubs. They were always so proud of themselves too. That made Rory feel good about her ability to pretend.

She had been pretending for years. Not just with sex, but everything. She pretended to be okay; she pretended to care about things she used to; she pretended things didn't hurt her or bring up bad memories to not upset the people she was with. Doing all that can make someone an amazing liar. Rory didn't like lying, but the idea of it was so tasty. Lying made people leave her alone and give her the space she needed. If she told them the truth, it would be very concerning.

There was only one person who she was honest with. No, two people. One she was completely and always honest with, no matter what, and one she told most of the truth to.

There was Percy Weasley, who she considered to be her best friend. She told Percy everything, and he did the same to her. They kept nothing a secret, no feeling or thought was too scary or silly to be said out loud.

The other person was Madame Perkins, her Mind Healer. She was essentially Rory's therapist. Rory couldn't see a Muggle therapist though because all of her issues were related to magic in some way shape or form that trying to lie about it would be counterproductive. However, most of the Mind Healers had training just like Muggles. The idea had been in the works for years and came to life as a way of coping after the war.

Madame Perkins was good enough. She let Rory give as much or as little information as possible and was always leaning forward, knitting her brows together and asking, "Now how did that really make you feel?"

Seeing a Mind Healer made Rory learn a lot about herself, which was both good and bad. She learned that her fear of commitment stemmed from her father leaving as a child; she learned growing up with a loveless mother made her too caring and led to her always putting herself last.

She learned she was using sex to cope with Fred's death because she was taught that sex was a sacred ritual you should share with a single person. No one taught her what to do when that single person dies, and any trust and vulnerability you ever shared died with them. So casual sex was her way to take control.

Madame Perkins said it was healthy as long as she didn't depend on it. So, she kept doing it.

Something that Mind Healers did that shocked Rory was giving Muggle diagnosis. She assumed they'd tell her she had "Bad Dream Disease" or "Zero Happiness Syndrome" because Wizards were all cutesy like that. Instead, she was told she suffered from Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, anxiety, and depression (something she learned was partially because of genetics, so, thanks, Andrew).

It wasn't all that bad. At first she was scared because it sounded like a lot to deal with, but she found out she had actually been dealing with those issues for most of her life. She faced a lot of traumas growing up that she just ignored. Her way of coping with things was to block them out entirely. Madame Perkins was very persistent on reaching into her mind and getting the memories out in the open because repressing trauma was "unhealthy". Although the Mind Healers had training in occlumency, Madame Perkins wanted Rory to expose her own thoughts rather than cheat her way to it all.

She was taking medicine for her issues that helped, but nothing ever really went away. She felt completely empty and foggy some days, like she wasn't even alive. Other days she felt completely normal and forgot that she was even medicated in the first place.

The morning after her one-night stand with Lewys, she had an appointment with Madame Perkins. She had slept in just a bit, but that was too much for her, she hated sleeping in (that was the anxiety talking). Rory sat up sharply and covered her chest with a sheet. She shook Lewys awake harshly and shouted in his ear.

He was all drowsy and yawning, looking at Rory like she was crazy.

"You have to get out," she said loudly.

"You sure? We could get coffee or — "

She scoffed, "Hell no. Sorry, but that's really not how one-night stands work. I've got an appointment."

"I know this great little breakfast place — "

She groaned, it seemed he thought she was lying. "Really, I've got to go. You've got to go. I have a... therapy appointment in like an hour. I've got to talk all about how growing up without a father has affected me mentally."

"Oh," he said. "Yeah, I better get going."

Men always hated hearing she grew up fatherless. To them, it meant she had a lot of baggage. Little did they know that was the least of her issues.

He left quickly as she hopped in the shower. The water was very hot and almost painful, but she didn't mind. It was her way of washing away her mistakes from the night before. She had a pounding headache as well. Her morning was not off to a great start. Once she no longer felt where his hands roamed her exposed body, she stepped out of the shower feeling relieved Lewys was gone. She no longer had to be Aurora, the attainable spitfire who laughed at unfunny jokes and drank fruity drinks. She could be Rory who, even though she didn't like, took a hell of a lot less effort to be.

She went back into her bedroom and used her wand (yes; she got a new wand) to dry her hair. She got hot coffee on the pot and a bagel in her stomach. This was all done with the news on her television in the background. It was about ten in the morning and her appointment was at ten thirty. So, she got ready for some good old-fashioned mind healing and made her way to St. Mungo's via Floo.

It was usually fairly quiet on Saturday mornings. It was an odd time to have an appointment, but it was the only time that really fit for her with her work schedule.

She approached the desk. "Rory!" The Welcome Witch beamed. She was a kind girl, around the same age as Rory, with curly dark hair and hazel eyes. "I just saw your dad! He told me you'd be coming around soon. Madame Perkins is ready for you. If I see Mr. Harrison, I'll let him know you're here."

"Thanks," Rory smiled. She made her way to the fifth floor. The tearoom and shop were no longer the only thing occupying the space. A few rooms were added after the war. But not the type with beds and curtains, the kind with comfortable furniture and desks.

Mind Healers were actually her dad's idea. He knew they were something that was needed after the first war, however; it was hard to actually set up something like that. Most Wizards saw mental health as a "Muggle issue" and ignored it altogether. However, Andrew got the Ministry to instill Mind Healers for those who needed them. There were only about five for St. Mungo's and one at Hogwarts. They were all Witches and Wizards who had left the Wizarding World to pursue an education and get the credentials needed for things like therapy.

Rory was just lucky enough to be the daughter of the Head Healer at St. Mungo's. She felt bad about it sometimes, using her dad's position to take advantage of the system. However, few people faced the unique issue of their ex-boyfriend haunting them as a ghost at the magic school they worked at so she couldn't even lie to a Muggle therapist if she tried.

She knocked on room 555 and the door swung open. The bubbly blonde women on the other side beckoned Rory in. She gave a polite smile and got comfortable on a couch across from Madame Perkins' desk.

"Rory! It's nice to see you! We've got a lot to talk about today, yeah?"

Rory nodded, "I guess."

"How have you been since we last spoke? You've finished up your first year at Hogwarts! Are you excited to start teaching in September?"

"Yeah, I am. I feel prepared," she said confidently.

"Good. Good!" She beamed, getting out a quill and notepad. "I know we touched on the whole... ghost thing last time but I think we should discuss it in more detail since you're going to be away from it all for a bit over the summer."

Rory nodded, "Yeah, okay. I mean, I'm not sure what else to say... I don't see why me being away from it makes a difference."

"Well... I'm afraid you haven't yet recovered from Fred's passing. Him still being around in a way has made it even harder to move on, and so I worry being away from that environment might cause some issues."

"What do you mean? I didn't go straight back to Hogwarts after the war... there was an entire year between and I was... fine." Rory defended.

Madame Perkins nodded slowly, "Right, well, in that year you had your falling out with George and broke your wand, yes? There were also a few instances where you went to your father's house in the middle of the night —"

"I remember, thanks," she said quickly. "That was before I started seeing you and before I got on medication so you can't really compare."

"The thing is, we can't say for sure you're going to be alright. You said to me before that you see Fred as a security blanket, yes? Regardless of what you're doing to help your mental health, you still might feel lost without him there, like you did two years ago. I want you to be aware of this change and so if issues do arise in the following weeks, you'll be prepared."

"Okay," was all she said. Rory could tell Madame Perkins hated when she answered with "okay" because that was her way of saying "no" or "I don't care".

The rest of the session was only semi-productive. Rory felt a bit better when Madame Perkins actually gave her a chance to talk and didn't just speculate about how she might feel in a week or two. There was some truth in what she had brought up to Rory, though. Fred was her security blanket, and she was lost without him.

The summer was going to be rough, but Rory was going to get through it.

a/n:

hope you like the rewrite so far!! also how do we feel about the longer chapters?? this one is about 3.6k words <3