While last year, after their initiation, Aurora's year of Slytherins had taken to the school with renewed confidence and unity, this year's group seemed torn between house pride and shame in what they had been told on Halloween night. Rumours continued to spread around the school, mainly concerning the identity of the Heir and the location of the chamber of secrets. Hermione Granger had taken to all but living in the library, which greatly frustrated Aurora any time she attempted to get a book out to read and found Granger at the end of the row, looking at her. It took all of her self control not to tell her to snap out of it. If she didn't stop soon, she was sure she would have to hex her cross-eyed.

"They're saying it's you, you know," Gwen told her quietly one night in their room. "That you're the Heir of Slytherin."

"Oh, great," Aurora said, rolling her eyes from where she lay on her bed, "that's just what I need. For more people to think I'm a murderer."

"You've really no idea who it could be?"

"Of course not, Gwen," she said tiredly. "You know I'd tell you if I did."

"Yeah," she said, "I know. It's just, I can't get it out of my head, what Malfoy said."

"Draco was out of line," she said slowly. "He's been out of line rather a lot recently. I don't know what's making him worse - his family isn't - I mean... They're not exactly open minded, but he's cockier now. But he's not a killer."

"They said the cat isn't really dead, though. Just Petrified."

"He still wouldn't do it," Aurora said. Draco was her best - and oldest - friend. If she didn't trust him then who could she trust? Plus, he rather liked to make a scene. If he was the Heir, she at least would know about it. "I know he wouldn't."

"Do you?" Gwen didn't sound convinced.

"Course I do. I know Draco. And besides, he was at the feast the whole time, I was sitting right next to him. He's not the Heir, and he's not a killer either."

While over the course of first year, the stares and whispers directed at Aurora had died down somewhat, now she realised they increased tenfold. Not only that, but people ducked out of her way when they saw her coming, like they were frightened of her. It was incredibly frustrating. "If I wanted them to be frightened of me," she complained to Pansy in Defense Against the Dark Arts, "then I'd have cursed someone. You know, actually done something myself. And I was at the feast that night, I physically couldn't have done it!"

"Harry Potter!" Lockhart called. "Come on up, let's have a re-enactment! Wandering with Werewolves this time!"

Aurora glared as Potter took to the front of he classroom. He'd been called up to re-enact numerous Lockhart scenes, something which had served mainly to put the Slytherin girls off of Lockhart for good. He was another one accused of being the Heir - though why anyone would call him the Heir of Slytherin was beyond her. He was stupid, yes, and arrogant and reckless, but just as she knew Draco wasn't a killer, she knew that Potter wasn't either, no matter what circumstances he had been found in.

She still didn't like him, though. "I hate this class," she muttered as he began a very dry reading of the book. Pansy patted her sympathetically on the arm.

As often happened, she took her frustration out in Potions. It had once soothed her to see the product of her work come together before her eyes, but with all the looks she was getting, she was off her usual standard and she knew it, as did Snape. He took every opportunity he could to rile her up, and eventually she snapped. "Maybe you could do with a hair-cleaning potion, sir," she muttered, knowing it would anger him. "Or else get out of my face when I'm trying to work."

His face was white and angry. "Detention tonight, Black."

It didn't bother her much, not really. Scrubbing cauldrons was something of a cathartic process, and it at least gave her time to think while doing something relatively productive. What she did feel bad about was Neville Longbottom, who as a result of Snape's spiked anger had been even more nervous in class than usual, and earned himself a detention with her for accidentally blowing up his cauldron. They were set to work together while Snape marked essays.

Aurora didn't fail to notice the way Neville's eyes kept flickering to Snape, like he expected an insult or a slap at any moment. Even as the detention wore on, he looked more and more nervous. It was somewhat nice to realise she was not the most feared person in a room, but it also occurred to her that Neville really shouldn't look that scared of a teacher. He let them go only shortly before curfew, with a curt look at Aurora and a sneering comment about how Neville likely did a better job at scrubbing cauldrons with Muggle way than he could of trying to use his wand.

"You ought to stop acting so scared," Aurora said as they left the classroom, and Neville looked at her in surprise. "You could be good at Potions if you didn't get distracted by him."

Neville flushed red. "Well, he's right. I'm lousy at magic and at Potions. It's no wonder he hates me."

"He's your teacher," Aurora said. "That's his problem, not yours." She scoffed, glancing at Neville. He still looked white. "You're not bad at everything Neville."

"All I'm good at's Herbology," he muttered. "And my gran says that's barely magic."

"Well, I think it is," she said haughtily, flipping her hair. Neville stared. "I'm wretched with plants, they seemed to hate me. Sprout says I'm too aggressive with them, most witches get along great with plants." She shrugged, and looked sideways a him. Neville was really good at Herbology, and she saw a sudden opportunity. "I could help you if you like."

Neville startled. "What?"

"With Potions. If you'd like, I could help teach you. You're good at Herbology so it stands to reason that you have a basic understanding of Potions properties and ingredients, but Snape clearly isn't the best teacher for you. But, well..." She put on a nervous face, even though she wasn't truly nervous. This could work out well. "I need help with Herbology, too?"

Neville brightened as he caught on, smiling. "Well, I could help you with that! Professor Sprout lets me work in the greenhouses with her sometimes, and she even has this species of tentacula that she showed me, and I'm not allowed in on my own, but she might let you join me if we study together!" She didn't think she'd ever heard Neville say so much in one go. It made her smile. "If - if you want to."

"Of course," she said, and her grin was genuine. "We should probably get going before curfew, but we can figure it out later. I just thought I ought to ask."

Neville looked in a considerably better mood as he went up the stairs, and Aurora smiled somewhat fondly after him. It was nice to have someone grateful to her for a change, rather than scared of her. And she found that being genuinely nice to Neville did make her feel better about things, too. She grinned as she went quickly to the common room, not wanting to be late and land another detention, regardless of how this had turned out. Of course, this arrangement had other considerable benefits other than simply making her feel like she was a good person. Neville had been so eager for help and to be of use that it had been easy to get him to agree. Still, she reasoned, slipping into the common room, she had done a good thing. For a Gryffindor, no less. And it did feel good.

The second Saturday in November brought with it the annual Quidditch match between Slytherin and Gryffindor. After their frankly humiliating defeat last year, Flint was determined that Slytherin would retain the cup this year.

"We have the best Chaser, best Keeper, best Beaters and best Seeker," he said, pacing the locker room floor before the match on Saturday morning. "Not only that, but we have the best brooms money can buy!" Draco beamed proudly. "Potter is one good player! One! Higgs messed up last year; Malfoy, if you let Potter have the Snitch, I swear I'll have you running laps for a month." Draco gulped. "Black, be ready to jump in at any moment. I doubt we'll need you, but nevertheless."

She turned her head so he wouldn't see her rolling her eyes. "Thanks, Flint."

"Alright. Brooms at the ready, boots on, hands in."

Aurora grabbed her broom, sticking her hand into the ring of Slytherin green sleeves. "To greatness," Flint yelled.

"To greatness!"

"To a nine year streak!"

"To a nine year streak!"

"To kicking Gryffindor's sorry scarlet arses!"

They all beamed as they yelled back that last part. "To kicking Gryffindor's sorry scarlet arses!"

Flint cheered as they separated, running out with their brooms onto the pitch. "Good luck!" Aurora yelled, as she took her place by the benches, watching the Gryffindors head out. They didn't have a reserve, which was cocky of them. If they lost any player, especially a crucial one like the Keeper or Seeker, they'd be at a major disadvantage without anyone to step in. The Slytherins were going to exploit that as much as they could, Aurora knew. She wouldn't mind seeing Potter getting taken down, except she wanted Draco to win of his own accord. Then again, he would be insufferable about it for weeks - but it was a small price to pay for victory.

"On my whistle!" Madam Hooch, the referee, called as Flint and Wood shook hands, both looking murderous. "Three, two, one!"

The players all took to the air in blurs. of red and air. Aurora made sure she was following the game as best she could, which largely meant keeping her eyes on the Chasers. Slytherin scored once, then twice, to the frustration of the Gryffindor supporters. Aurora grinned, cheering her support for her team. Potter swooped in her direction and she pointedly waved her broom handle, causing him to glare, swerving sharply out of the way. A Bludger plummeted after him and Aurora leapt up to duck out of the way - but something very strange happened. The Bludger changed course just a foot from her, and went soaring after Potter again.

Aurora sat down, blinking in surprise, but watched Potter and the rest of the game intensely. Slytherin scores again again, but she couldn't help but notice the very odd way the Bludger was acting. Whether anyone else had noticed or not, the Bludger was following Potter. She saw the Weasleys trying to bat it furiously away towards Aurora's own team - mainly at Draco, who was stupidly hovering where the goalposts for most of the match rather than surveying for the Snitch as Aurora would have done - but that Bludger kept returning to Potter.

Bludgers didn't act like that unless they'd been tampered with. Aurora considered pointing it out, but it would be fruitless - Hooch would have called time out if she thought it was wrong, and the Gryffindors were distracted by the Bludger's behaviour, which gave Slytherin a considerable advantage. Besides, Potter had yet to get injured by it at all.

It started to come on rain, turning the ground beneath Aurora's feet into mud and making it slippy. It was alright for students in the relatively sheltered stands, and the players who were warm from adrenaline and from swooping around the pitch, but Aurora sat half-frozen to the bench, shivering. "Come on, Draco," she muttered under her breath, watching her friend searching worriedly for the Snitch. "Hurry it up and end the game already."

As soon as Draco saw the Snitch, Aurora knew, he would all but have it. It would be impossible for Potter to play properly now, considering he not only had a Bludger on his tail but both Weasley twins at his side, protecting him with their bats but also hindering his movements. Gryffindor couldn't keep this up very long. The score ticked over seventy to ten, and Aurora rubbed her hands together nervously to try and work some warm blood back into them. They seemed to realise the state they were in, and eventually Wood called for a time out.

"It must be the Slytherins," Aurora heard Fred Weasley say, as her own team came to touch down and make their way to her.

"Black," Flint barked, and she hurried to stand up. "You've been watching the game; any idea what's making the Bludger go for Potter?"

She shook her head. "I don't know. Far as I can tell, it's being doing that all game."

Flint nodded. "I thought so too. Well, none of us have anything to do with it, do we?" They all shook their heads. "Right. We're far ahead now, and it doesn't look like Potter's going to make a shot for the Snitch anytime soon. We play as we have been, it's clearly working. Malfoy, you see the Snitch, you go for it immediately, alright? Black, stay on the bench."

She nodded with false politeness, wishing more than anything that she could have a go on the pitch with the others. "Got it."

"How are you feeling?" Aurora asked Draco as the two of them split a little from the rest of the team, who were jeering in the direction of the Gryffindors.

"Fine," he said tensely. "Potter doesn't stand a chance, you heard Flint. It's only a matter of time before I catch the Snitch and we win; then I'll show him."

Aurora nodded, smirking over in the direction of the furious Gryffindors. "Keep it up."

Madam Hooch blew her whistle to signal the rest of the team to take their positions again. Aurora clapped Draco on the shoulder and hurried back over to her bench, watching as they took to the skies once more. The Weasley twins appeared to have given up on guarding Potter, leaving him to deal with the rogue Bludger on his own. Aurora still didn't think he'd manage to get the Snitch, not when he was having to switch his direction all the time to avoid the Bludger.

He was having some sort of altercation with Draco in mid air, when the Bludger slammed into his arm and knocked him to the side. Aurora cringed, but Potter, to his credit, seemed determined to keep on his broom. He made a lunge at Draco, who startled and dropped down, but Aurora realised what Potter had seen. The Snitch flickered just by the spot where Draco's ear had been, but then swooped away before Potter could get it. She breathed easier, but roared, "Draco! Get after him!"

Both of them were diving towards the ground, Potter cradling his broken elbow and reaching with the other arm. His face was creased in exertion. Draco had hesitated too long, failing to realise his situation, and though his broom ought to be faster, he didn't seem to have the same command over it that Potter did, and though he was gaining on him, it was too slow. Much too slow. "No!" Aurora yelled, but Potter was not to be deterred. His fingers closed around the Snitch a mere moment before he hit the ground, landing in a heap but with his unbroken arm still held in the air in triumph.

Draco came to a stop just behind him, red in the face and furious. Madam Hooch blew her whistle for the game to come to a stop, and gradually the other players came down. Someone blasted the Bludger to pieces in the air and Aurora stood up, trying to get a look at Potter, who had crashed and wasn't stirring. "Madam Hooch?" she yelled over the din of the crowd. "I think he's fainted!"

Hooch was already hurrying over, along with a large proportion of the crowd, Granger and Weasley in the lead. But behind them was Lockhart, brandishing his wand. "Never fear!" she could hear him calling. "I am here!"

She snorted as Draco stomped over. "Bloody Potter," he muttered, as Flint stormed to him.

"What was that? We had them, Malfoy!" He shook his head in disgust. "You need to be quicker. If you get distracted like that against Ravenclaw, we might have to put Black in, and then where will we be?" Aurora would have retorted if she wasn't so curious as to what Lockhart was about to do to Potter. From the looks of things, he was going to try to fix his elbow. "Come on," Flint said. "Back to the changing room. You too, Black, stop gawping."

She shut her mouth quickly and followed after the rest of the team. Draco was glowering. "I had him," he muttered. "I did."

She patted his shoulder in sympathy. "You played really well, Draco. You'll get him next time, I'm sure."

The Slytherins were in a rather bad mood that night. Draco argued with Potter even more than usual, and the common room was noticeable tense, especially as most people seemed to blame his inexperience for their failure. He was bemoaning the unfairness of the situation to Crabbe, Goyle and Blaise loudly every night, while Aurora sat researching for a Potions essay, the girls chattering quietly around her.

"You do have to wonder," Pansy was saying, as Aurora flipped between moonstone and asphodel properties, "who jinxed that Bludger to go after Potter?"

"Isn't it obvious?" Daphne whispered. "It must have been the Heir!"

"The Heir?" Lucille echoed. "Don't be silly, Daphne, the Heir of Slytherin wouldn't care about a Quidditch match."

"But it's Potter," Pansy whispered. "And the Heir would obviously be a Slytherin supporter."

"But why do it in front of everyone?" Lucille asked. "It wouldn't make sense. Last time, the Heir struck while everyone was at the feast."

"Everyone except Potter and his friends," Gwen pointed out.

"You don't think Potter's the Heir, too, do you?"

"I think the Heir might be targeting Potter."

"But they're the Heir of Slytherin," Daphne pointed out with a sniff. "I'd like to think they'd be a bit more elegant."

Millicent shook her head. "You care too much about being elegant, Daphne. The Heir wants to knock Potter off, they'll do it whatever way they want." She shrugged. "But I don't get the point of killing the cat."

"Can we all just drop this?" Aurora said brittly, having been distracted from her writing by their discussion. "It's all anyone's been talking about, the conversation is growing dull very fast."

"So you don't have any theories?"

"Not that I'm going to discuss, no." She looked at them sharply. "I think everyone's entirely too excited about the whole affair. Maybe it was just a one-off affair for Halloween. It's been two weeks with no further developments."

But when they woke in the morning, it was to news that there had indeed been another attack: Colin Creevey, the little Gryffindor. Aurora felt rather sick as she ate her breakfast. He was so small, only a first year. Poor thing. Gwen was visibly shaken by it, too, head bent in a quiet conversation with Robin a few places down from the others, looking rather pale.

"Serves him right," Draco muttered. "Always jumping about after Potter."

"He's a kid, Draco," Aurora said sharply, glaring at him. "It's horrid what's happened to him."

"You would say that."

"Yes," Aurora told him, with a hard look. She hated how he'd reacted to all of this, and she didn't understand it either. It wasn't that she didn't know some of the ideas he and most of the purebloods she knew had been raised with. She'd been taught some of the same, but hearing them out loud and seeing their practice... And knowing Gwen and Ted and so many people now outside her bubble... It didn't sit right with her. Did that make her a Blood Traitor? To not wish people dead for their family? If it did, did she really care? "I would."

She got up and moved deliberately to sit between Daphne and Theodore instead, leaving Draco to glare at her with a put-out expression, and Pansy to immediately latch onto him instead. "What's wrong with you?" Daphne asked, staring at her.

"Nothing," Aurora muttered, glancing at Draco, who seemed to have moved on very quickly and was chatting happily to Pansy about his theory on the Heir. "Just wanted a change of scenery."

Both Daphne and Theodore gave her dubious looks, but they didn't question her further.

Even so, she could feel a slight shift between her and Draco, like something had been knocked off-balance. And she didn't like it, because it shouldn't have mattered in the first place. Pansy seemed mad at her too, even though she had nothing to do with it, and it was only a minor disagreement, if that at all. But she supposed a part of her was repelling them too, on instinct. She hated that part of her, just a little, but she hated that any of this was happening in the first place.

Gwen and Robin at least took it in their stride, as much as either of them could. The two of them proved an excellent pair to work with in Herbology, which had never been Aurora's greatest subject, while in Potions, Aurora took to being Neville's partner. The room was considerably less hazardous when she was watching him for mistakes, and correcting them quickly. In Transfiguration, the group of three Slytherins wound up sitting nearer to Potter and his friends than Aurora would have liked, but she didn't comment on it, too preoccupied by the annoyed looks Pansy kept throwing across the room at her.

She didn't understand why it had to matter so much. Had this been how her father had felt, once upon a time? She didn't like to think of it, but she couldn't stop herself from doing so. Had he seen the teachings of his family misalign with the world around him? Had he felt the sting of rejection for disagreeing? Was that what had driven him to turn full Blood Traitor, befriend the Potters? Or was that what had pulled him back into the fray a Death Eater? Was that the way they were all headed in the end?

"You look awfully down," Gwen murmured quietly to her, pulling Aurora from her thoughts.

"This is a mess," she said, and though she looked at her scribble, half-formed notes, that wasn't all she meant and she had a feeling Gwen knew it. The words Blood Traitor rang in her head. She snuck a glance at Draco and Pansy on the their side of the classroom, both whispering quietly. Pansy laughed loudly and there was a pang in Aurora's chest. Why did one argument have to matter so much? "It's fine," she told Gwen, "I just need to concentrate."

In an effort to prove first to herself that she was absolutely in no way like her father, Aurora threw herself vigorously into studying. She didn't think that Animal Transfiguration and The Transition of Life and Enchanted Animation were the reading material a Gryffindor like him would have been most interested in, which was exactly why she plucked them from the library shelves.

She ought to learn more this year anyway. Last year she had spent so much time focused on the Philosopher's Stone, a noble quest indeed, but one that she was realising was severely flawed. To understand Alchemy she first had to understand the prime concept of Transfigurational Magic, as well as get a better grasp of the trickier and less-taught elemental basis of magic, concerning primarily metal but also the core of life, which ran through all magic. That core was why witches and wizards often had a way with plants, whether magical or non-Magical, and why most of them lived much longer lives than Muggles. So that was why she was reading so much.

Pansy laughed at it quietly in the common room when she thought Aurora wasn't paying attention. I'm doing this for a reason, she wanted to say. I'm going to be great because of it, so great no one will remember my father, not even me. He will be no part of me.

She also found, to her surprise, that she really enjoyed working with Neville. He was shy a lot of the time, and didn't always meet her in the eye, but she began to realise that he was like that with most people, not just her. Professor Sprout, who had never been much a fan of Aurora's due to her less than cheerful attitude and poor grades in class, even warmed up to her during the hours she and Neville spent in the greenhouses. He taught her about the best ways to handle various plants, and occasionally rambled on about plants that had nothing to do with what they were learning, but they clearly interested him and Aurora enjoyed having someone speak so freely in front of her. Few of her housemates did so. In return, she taught him about Potions and helped him get a better grasp on the theory. "You have to be cautious," she told him. "Every action has to be measured, and you have to be confident in what you're doing or you won't be able to focus so well."

She was pleased to find that he was making improvements, and positively beamed when he got an A on his essay. "Snape thought I cheated, I did so well!" he cheered.

"I told you you're better than you think," Aurora said, also grinning; she herself had only gotten an E, but coming from Snape she figured that meant an Outstanding. "Don't let him tell you different."