A/N: I don't know why, but I absolutely loved this scene between Arthur Weasley and Aurora... I never had a chance to RP with Weasley on virtual [dash] hogwarts .org, but, I might still have that chance in the future.
It wasn't long before Aurora was in the entrance hall of Hogwarts, where she heard her name coming from the large double doors and turned to see, "Arthur." She greeted him and wandered closer to the man who had the door open just wide enough that he could slip through. She looked up at the door in an obvious sort of way, making the Hogwarts Headmaster flush under the scrutiny.
"Just thought I'd take a walk," he explained.
"I didn't ask," she smirked at him and crossed her arms in good humor.
"I know. You weren't asking very loudly."
She couldn't help the bark of laughter that escaped, because yeah, she supposed she did just walk right into that one. There were times when she needed to be reminded that actions spoke louder than words. She was lost in her thoughts when the red haired man asked, "Would you like to join me?"
When the headmaster asks for company, it's usually unwise to decline the offer, despite the fact that Aurora had some place she needed to be. Her response was an automatic nod of her head, seeing not only the Headmaster of the castle before her, but also a driving force of the Order of the Phoenix, right alongside Kingsley Shacklebolt, whom Aura had also grown to admire and respect.
Before she knew it, she was walking side by side with Weasley on the grounds of the castle, the lantern still levitating at her side, following her around without fail. The sun was gone, taking with it the warmth of the day, and a cool breeze swept in in its stead. Still, she was comfortable, but should that change, all she needed was a quick warming charm.
"Beautiful night," Weasley said conversationally. As the lantern next to her followed her, she too was following the headmaster. It didn't matter what his destination was; she was loyal to a fault.
She hummed her response and looked down every so often at the terrain under their feet, careful of any unevenness that might disrupt her flow - or perhaps it was out of awkwardness. Weasley didn't mention it, if he noticed. After a moment, she realized he hadn't. He was looking up at the stars as they moved, and she followed his gaze. They seemed so close, like she could reach out and touch one, pull it out of the sky and keep it for her own. "It's still safe, just so you know," Weasley said suddenly as if the heavens just reminded him of it, and looking at him now, she met his gaze. She couldn't quite read it. She detected concern, for her and for everything, confidence in what he was saying, and yet… she sensed his confidence wasn't complete. The weight of the world...
Offering no words in return, she continued following him towards the lake. Aurora was mulling things over, wordlessly picking apart the headmaster, wondering about everything she didn't have the answers to, as she had been all day. They came to a stop at the White Tomb and Aurora swallowed thickly as she watched Weasley circle the grave before coming to a stop at the front. Everyone had seen the White Tomb before. It was no secret whose resting place it was. "Albus Dumbledore," Weasley spoke, directed towards Aurora. She came up alongside him, invited into the private moment. "No greater wizard than him."
This was also common knowledge, though debated in some circles. "I'm sorry I did not have a chance to meet him," she offered. "He was remarkable." Someone to be admired, to boot. She clasped her hands behind her back, observing the stone in its simplicity.
"He still is," the headmaster countered. "Everything we've done, everything we're doing, and everything we're going to do is because of him. He is the Order. We owe everything to him."
Aurora's eyes slipped closed and she angled her head away guiltily. Did she owe all the sacrifices she's made to him, too? Eh, probably. The whole group was so indebted to the legend of a man that they'd sacrifice anything and everything, because in comparison, nothing they sacrificed would measure against the ultimate. But, Aurora wasn't around back then, to be a part of that legend. It was a selfish thing to think, and even after years of being apart of the Order and everything they stood for, it still got to her at times. Did she owe this group her life just because others paid with theirs? Was there a line-and if so, where was it drawn?
"I know what you did wasn't easy…" She rolled her eyes upwards, throat constricting at the thoughts that had been haunting her for weeks now. Weasley was trying to read her like a book, with a small amount of success in his translation.
"No offense, but you have no idea what I've done." She scoffed, more to herself than the headmaster. "I just screwed my husband out of a multi-million pound deal. For you. For the Order. You tell me how I am supposed to reconcile with that."
"Aura…" he hesitated. "I'm sorry. I wish there was some way we could compensate you…"
The healer gave a deprecating laugh. "I don't care about the money, Arthur. I care that now I have to lie to my husband about it and lead him down a false trail." She gave a disbelieving sigh and took a step back. "Is that why you brought me here?" she waved at the White Tomb.
"No," Weasley said quickly. "I honestly just came to visit an old friend." Her jaw clenched with anger, not quite believing his intentions. "I'm just saying that I understand."
"The hell you do." Though she was bordering anger, she had an apologetic look to her. Getting pissed off at her boss was one thing, but getting pissed off at a friend was another. "Your entire family is part of the Order, just about. If they aren't in it, they know of it, and you can go home at the end of the day and talk to your other half about it. I have no one that I can lean on like that. So, please, just…" She couldn't finish the thought.
"If it bothers you so much, then why?"
What a loaded question. She stopped for a minute, looking at the tomb, still astounded that she wasn't in one herself. It would always astound her, but she would always be waiting, anticipating her final breath. She knew, deep down, it was coming sooner rather than later, but every passing year surprised her when she didn't drop dead and she had another day, another week, another month, another year to look forward to. "Because I know how important the Order is. I know what we do and why we do it. I understand sacrifice, but I think it's easier for some," she meant the Weasley family, of course, "when they have a support system within."
"Alright," the ginger haired man acquiesced. "If you could bring one person into the Order, who would it be?"
Aurora opened her mouth, answer on the tip of her tongue, but she stopped, because as much as she wanted it, she hated the thought of it. Slowly, her mouth closed and she felt like she had just been put in her place.
"That's what I thought," Weasley said knowingly. "Because no matter how much you want to bring someone into the fold, you're loathe to bring them into the fold, too. That, Aurora, is what we live with." We, the Weasley family. Fred. Aurora knew and her insides seized. "Out of curiosity, who would you have picked?"
"My cousin, Alex."
"Not your husband? Interesting."
She felt trapped, suddenly, like there were no right answers. When it came to life or death, there never were. "Doesn't mean I care for her safety any less than his," she felt she needed to say.
"Of course not."
"I don't see Spike as the sort of person who could make the kind of choices we have to make." Life or death. Thinking about it now, she wasn't sure Alex could, either. If anything, Alex would be stupid enough to follow her off the edge, instead of letting her slip through her grasp. Perhaps that was part of what stilled her tongue in the first place.
Weasley turned to head back to the castle, but Aurora was left paralyzed at the tomb and struck by what it signified, both hopeful and foreboding. "What if that happens to me?" she called over her shoulder to his retreating back, her eyes transfixed on the white stone, on her possible-and likely-future. The thought of her family grieving in proverbial darkness gripped her, pulled at her emotions so badly, she could barely swallow down the bile. "What sort of answers will my family be given? Or will they be left wondering?"
The thought bothered her more than she felt it should. The hypocrisy of it all, yearning for companionship, and yet denying it to herself because it was too dangerous, but despite all that, her family deserved closure no matter how painful, no matter what the cost-their feelings and love for her-when her lies and deceit came to light. She knew that if their roles were reversed, that if it was Alex standing there and now, having a conversation with Weasley like it was an everyday occurance, their feelings wouldn't be much different. Inherent in the two women was the desire to do more than they were born for, to help fix the world however they could, and to fiercely protect family and friends, however steep the price might be. Her cousin might be offended, yes, but she'd understand. Inevitably, she'd understand.
Weasley stopped, head bowed while he collected an answer in his mind, struggling for the rightful and reassuring words. Beats passed them by, seconds turned into tens of seconds, and Aurora began to find the answer herself, the truth she had known since the beginning and overlooked for the greater good. Perhaps she just wasn't ready to face the possibility back then, wrapped up in the excitement of being apart of something so vital and important to wizardkind's very way of life. Things were different now, creating a civil war inside her between her head and her heart, and there was no telling which side would win. The problem was… what part of her was fighting which side of the battle?
"It would depend," the ginger haired man said after a while, and he turned to look at her. He could have brushed it off, promised her that she wasn't going to be one of the Order's fallen, but it would have been empty, hollow. They both knew that. He couldn't control fate any more than she could see it now.
Still, she was hoping for more than a vague answer. It was a form of torture on its own, crawling into the back of her brain, ninja'ing it from the inside out. "Depends on what?" she tossed back to him, because she needed to know. She was not part of the Order on some need to know basis. It was all or nothing.
"You already know the answer to that," he replied slowly.
Aurora turned towards him, emotions written all over her at the mere thought of everything. "That's not good enough," she told him, shaking her head. Her caramel curls brushed along her shoulders, caught by the breeze and the small movements of her head.
"What would you have us do, Aurora?" The question was frustratingly legitimate, and she should have expected that this was going to be turned around on her. "The absolute best we could do-if it ever happened-is give your family closure with a story that's fitting."
She turned back towards Dumbledore's tomb, drawn to it, standing before greatness itself. Why was it bothering her so much? She couldn't put her finger on why a cover story wasn't good enough. All she could wrap her mind around was the fact that it just wasn't. It felt off, and wrong in so many ways. Was it supposed to bother her this much, when in the eventuality it did happen-Merlin forbid-she would be a little too dead to care? "It feels wrong," she breathed. It wasn't meant for Weasley to hear, but he did.
"It's not supposed to feel right." It was said on a shrug, because there was no easy answer, and certainly not one that could gratify the both of them. It was something that just was, and it sucked.