The Slytherin match against Ravenclaw came the next Saturday. It was a blustery and cold day, sleet coming down outside the windows of the Great Hall while Aurora ate breakfast with the team. In the past week, Aurora had not seen her father again, and she could only hope that it was for the best.

"Chang looks peaky," Draco said hopefully as the team ate breakfast, nodding to the Ravenclaw Seeker, a pretty girl who did nonetheless look rather unwell and nervous. Last year she had been, like Aurora, a mere reserve — and Hufflepuff, the only team she had already played against, was nothing compared to Slytherin or Gryffindor. "Maybe she won't be able to play as good as usual."

"You still have to play as if she's at her best," Aurora replied musingly, slicing off a piece of bacon. "And prepare for it too. You're more than capable."

Draco frowned. "I have to win."

"You will," she said easily. "I believe in you."

His eyes darted a few places along, where Flint was having a sobering breakfast of plain toast and black coffee. Aurora didn't know how he could stand the stuff. "Don't reckon Flint agrees. Look at his face."

"Flint always looks like that," Aurora dismissed, with a wave of her hand. "Don't let it get to you. Concentrate on the Snitch, that's the most important thing, isn't it?"

"Yeah," Draco muttered. He scowled at his orange juice.

He was anxious all through breakfast, but Aurora found herself more or less at ease — she would have been fine if she didn't have him so jittery next to her, setting her on edge too. She had already won a match for Slytherin. She had proved herself. Draco had work to do, and he couldn't afford to lose to Ravenclaw.

But on the Quidditch Pitch, even in the cold and damp, Aurora found herself rejuvenated. Her hands were tucked into gloves, hair held back in a low bun, and even though she had to go to the bench, Flint told her to stay alert, and she had a tight grip of her broom. When Madam Hooch blew her whistle to begin the match, she sent what she hoped was an encouraging smile in Draco's direction, and watched the two teams kick off from the ground. Their Quidditch robes whipped around them, bright against the dark grey clouds of the sky.

She followed the game eagerly, eyes snapping from Chaser to Chaser. Ravenclaw scored once, twice, three times — then Derrick hit a Bludger at their Keeper, causing him to swerve to the side just as Cassius flung the Quaffle through the centre hoop. The crowd went wild, and Aurora leapt to her feet. "Yes! Go on, Warrington!"

She caught his grin as he flew a victory lap, then as Montague wrested control of the Quaffle from Ravenclaw's Davies, and went soaring. The game picked up pace, and was fought bitterly. Chang was a sharp flyer, Aurora could see that — but she was assured that Draco was better. The Ravenclaw Beaters were more brutal than she had expected. With the score tied at one hundred points each, a Bludger went soaring through the air and before Aurora could yell in warning, it hit Montague hard in the shoulder and sent him plummeting towards the ground.

"Montague!" she cried. Madam Hooch only just got to him in time, grabbing ahold, and called a time out.

"He's injured!" she declared to the slowly assembling players, as though it weren't obvious. "Broken arm, most likely." Montague groaned. "He'll need the Hospital wing."

Flint swore. "Trust you, Montague."

"S'not like I wanted to—"

"Black. We're subbing you in." He glanced to Madam Hooch. "That allowed?"

"Fine by me, Flint. I'll call for Madam Pomfrey." When Aurora looked up, she could see the crowd all clamouring for a look at the drama unfolding. Their voices were a low rumble. She caught Potter half-hanging over the edge of the stands, staring, and gripped her broom tighter.

Madam Hooch shuffled a complaining Montague off, and Flint beckoned her over. The Ravenclaws all muttered to each other, no doubt trying to work out a new strategy — they hadn't seen Aurora as Chaser of course, and her dynamic with the others would be different to Montague's. She could see them trying to recalibrate. "You know the formations?" She nodded. "Good. Get up there, we're doing a forward three, drop two." That meant they would all be in a line horizontal, but when it came to the Quaffle, the outer two would drop down, so it was easier to move and to manoeuvre between them.

She steadied herself, waiting for the go ahead from Hooch. Montague looked like he was going to be okay, though no doubt his pride had been wounded. "You ready?" Draco asked.

Her lips set into a grim smile. "More than ready."

Moments later, the whistle blew. They took to the air and it was a blur of sounds and senses and freedom and power — over the broom, forces of nature, over the Quaffle. There was no greater feeling, she was sure, than when she hurled the Quaffle through the right hoop, and the scoreboard ticked over. The Slytherin stands went wild and, heart surging with pride and with adrenaline, she egged them on, flying a lap around the hoops before surging back to Cassius, who passed the Quaffle.

They tossed it between them and then, with a shadow passing above, Aurora threw it up to Flint. Davies got between them just as he got it, and seemed at a loss, as Flint surged ahead and scored again.

It passed in a blur of sheer joy, and then she saw Draco out the corner of her eye, flying around Chang. He looked almost conversational, though in a taunting way. But perhaps that was his tactic. She tore her eyes away to dive down, intercept the Quaffle passed between the Ravenclaw Chasers below her, and then surge back to Flint, who took her pass, and launched it towards Cassius. He rushed forward, flinging the Quaffle at the goalhoops.

But they had hardly any time to revel in this. A roar had gone up from the Ravenclaw end, and Aurora burled around to see Cho Chang rushing upwards, towards a glimmer of gold. Her heart was in her mouth — the goal was two hundred and thirty to Slytherin, one hundred and thirty to Ravenclaw — but Draco was gaining on her already, and fast. Both rushed upwards. Aurora held the Quaffle close to her chest, flying forward, watching and waiting, until Draco pulled ahead, until his arm reached out, until she saw his arm raised triumphantly in the air.

She let out a yell of victory and flew towards him. The rest of the team did the same and the Slytherin crowds went wild — they were two for two, with only Hufflepuff standing in the way of a secured Cup Victory. Aurora was the first to reach her cousin as they sank to the ground, him smiling wider than she was sure as she had ever seen him as he shouted over the din, "I did it! I caught the Snitch! I won!"

Needless to say, the party that evening was extravagant and far beyond any Aurora had witnessed at Hogwarts before — though of course, with one thing or another, she had never gotten the opportunity to enjoy them. The first and second years had all been shepherded off to bed and the third and fourth years made to swear they wouldn't pester the upper years, get drunk, or otherwise disgrace the noble name of Salazar Slytherin himself. Twice, Marcus had had to swipe a bottle of Firewhiskey from Draco's hands — "You're thirteen, Malfoy, and you could pass for ten, and I'm not explaining to Snape why our Seeker's out of commission stuck in the Hospital Wing!" — and twice Miles had stumbled over a sidetable and somehow managed to find the whole situation hysterical while Aurora and Cassius stood by the wall watching their teammates thoroughly embarrass themselves. At least Cassius could hold his drink — Aurora had opted to abstain after taking a few sips of Cassius's drink and deciding the feeling of alcohol burning the back of her throat was not worth any of the supposed cheerful side effects.

"You get used to it," Cassius told her, before taking a long sip. "We all did. And, eh — you could be a fine Chaser next year. You'll have to get used to it."

She smiled teasingly up at him. "Trying to talk me out of going for your spot?"

"Not at all." He grinned at her, pushing back his long blond hair, parts of which were falling forwards onto his forehead. "Personally, I think you're much more agreeable than Graham."

Graham was, of course, complaining of his injury to anyone who would listen, and gaining the ear of many giggling girls on the sofas. Aurora smirked at the sight. "Poor Graham. You going to chuck him over for me?"

Cassius shrugged, grinning lowly over his drink. "Depends if you help us win the cup or not."

He winked and Aurora replied indignantly, "I've done plenty enough already, I think!"

Cassius just laughed, putting a friendly arm around her shoulders. "I don't think anybody's disputing that. Well, Bletchley might try, but Bletchley's a wa— idiot."

Trying not to laugh at his abrupt change, Aurora simply rolled her eyes and said, "You had better remember that next year then. Seeing as you will be in a position to be captain."

At that, Cassius pressed his lips together, looking slightly embarrassed, and glanced away. "You think?"

"Well, it's either you or Montague. Merlin knows we can't have Derrick or Bole."

At this, Cassius looked thoughtful for a moment. Then, he grinned, and finished off his drink before setting it down on a table. "Come on," he said to her, grinning, "let's mingle before our captain starts to really make a fool of himself and start a soppy speech on the table. I intend to be thoroughly incapable of remembering that part of the night."

Aurora laughed as he tugged her gently towards the centre of the common room, hoping that maybe, she could pretend everything was alright tonight, surrounded by people who at least for now were more preoccupied with the Quidditch Cup than any potential mass murderers.

-*

By the beginning of February, Aurora still didn't know what she wanted to do about her father. There was no more information on Weasley's rat, and Granger had stopped entertaining any of Aurora's questions about the subject, not that that was entirely surprising. She hadn't snuck out to see her father again, paranoid that she would be caught if she did, and despite their friendlier terms the last time they had spoken, she didn't know how she wanted to interact with him, if she did at all. She longed to be able to speak to someone about it, anyone, but she couldn't, and so she was left only to her own conflicted thoughts.

Her learning of the Patronus Charm wasn't going very well either. She had managed those same silvery wisps, and a rather flimsy shield, but nothing held for very long, and she didn't want to only have a shield — she wanted the Patronus to be corporeal, and wanted to know what hers would present itself as. Just as Dora's Patronus was a jackrabbit, Aurora wanted to know her own. She tried to distract herself from her annoyance at that point with Arithmancy research; she had, in fact, been paired up with Granger for the project, and realised quickly that the girl was lonely. Potter and Weasley were no longer speaking to her, but Aurora felt it was a rather touchy subject with Granger and didn't want to jeopardise the project by making the girl upset.

Then, in the middle of the month, while Aurora had made no progress searching for Peter Pettigrew and was still caught up in her doubt and uncertainty, the Daily Prophet announced that Aurora's father was going to be given the Dementor's Kiss when he was caught.

She couldn't show the cold wave of fear she felt at the news. Going back to Azkaban was one thing, but the idea that her father might lose his soul... That thought made her feel slightly sick.

"But this is a good thing," Pansy said, frowning. "If he stays close enough to hurt you or try to get in contact, then he'll definitely be caught. This'll be a deterrent."

Aurora had to remind herself that Pansy couldn't know what she was thinking about her father, that the irritation she felt blooming at those words wasn't fair when her friend didn't have the information she did. "If he even knows about it," Aurora said instead. "Which I doubt."

Pansy put a comforting hand on her shoulder, but didn't seem to know what to say. Aurora didn't know what she would have wanted her to say, anyway.

On Friday, she noted, Hermione Granger looked positively wretched, her eyes red and puffy like she had been crying, and Aurora had to approach her cautiously after a Care of Magical Creatures class in which she had been conspicuously separated from Potter and Weasley.

"You alright, Granger?" she asked, trying to soften her voice as the girl turned around. Her friends had gone on ahead, and though Potter did send a suspicious glance over his shoulder, Weasley kept going and he followed loyally. She was awfully pale, Aurora realised, and looked like she had hardly slept. A pang of sympathy went through her and she tried to ignore Pansy and Draco staring at her.

"What do you want?" Granger asked in a brittle voice. "I have work to do—"

"Our Arithmancy project," Aurora said quickly, starting to walk and gesturing for her to follow, which she did with the downtrodden air of someone who had nothing else to do. "I thought perhaps we could meet in the library on Sunday to go over the geometric equations? I know you said you wanted to take charge of that aspect but I'd rather we were both on the same page."

Granger still appeared wary, and sniffled as she said, "Yeah, sure, that's fine." Her eyes darted to Potter and Weasley's backs. "I don't have anything else to do."

Aurora followed her gaze with a nervous sort of feeling in her stomach. "I do hope they aren't giving you a hard time."

"No," Granger said quickly, but from the way she looked away and wiped at her eyes, it was clear something was the matter. Weasley seemed the more bothered of the two boys, and though Aurora felt slightly guilty considering the emotional state of Granger, she knew there may be something she needed to know. "Everything's fine, Black."

She gave an overdramatic sort of wince which she hoped still came across as vaguely sympathetic. "This isn't about your cat again, is it?"

Granger startled as though she had been slapped, and Aurora looked at her expectantly. "He's just upset just now, but we'll be fine, and it's none of your business what happened to Scabbers anyway, Black, so leave off!"

She tried to hide her smile. "What happened to Scabbers?"

Granger huffed loudly and tossed her hair. "It's none of your business, you only want to know so you can make Ron's life miserable."

"Now why would you ever—"

"Leave me alone, Black," Granger said, voice teetering dangerously on the edge of a sob. "Please."

She tightened her jaw in annoyance but Granger was already hurrying away up the slope towards the castle, shoulders shaking. At the sight of her on her own, Aurora felt a twinge of guilt — the girl really did look upset, and she was sure she had never seen her being friendly with anyone but Potter and Weasley, but then, it wasn't her fault if Ron Weasley was angry at Granger. Once her friends had caught up to her though, she made a point of asking Gwen if she had heard anything about Hermione Granger's cat and Ron Weasley's rat, to which she just shrugged.

"Beats me," she said, flicking her ponytail. "It isn't exactly exciting gossip though, is it?"

"It could be," Aurora said, with a shake of the head. "She seemed really upset, is all."

Gwen frowned. "I still don't know. I haven't heard anything, except that Potter apparently got a Firebolt for Christmas and he's using it in the Ravenclaw match tomorrow. Everyone in Gryffindor seems to care a lot more about that than someone's rat, he's only just had it given back to him."

"Given back?" Aurora echoed. "Was it confiscated?"

Gwen shrugged. "That's just what I heard. Apparently McGonagall thought it might be cursed or something — anyway, I'll tell you if someone mentions Weasley's rat, but I don't get why you care."

Aurora shook her head and said breezily, "I don't really, but it's so strange to see the three of them apart that I have to find out something. And Granger is alright, compared to the other two — I'd just rather nothing interferes with our Arithmancy project."

-*

Aurora snuck out on Saturday morning, hoping nobody would notice given the ongoing Quidditch match — Gryffindor were playing Ravenclaw, and Potter was trying to salvage his dignity. She had made to head for the forest, but she saw a big black dog by the Whomping Willow, and when she nodded, it darted forward to press something at its roots. The tree stilled. Seeing that there was no one around, Aurora hurried towards the branches, easing herself down a hole into a long, dusty passage.

Her father led her down the tunnel, and she tried hard to push away her worries that if he was playing a long game trying to kill her than he would have the perfect opportunity. When at last he transformed, he was beaming. A bushy ginger cat brushed against Aurora's legs and her father gathered it into his arms with a disconcerting smile.

"What brings you here?"

"What, I can't just want to see my father?" She opened her bag and took out some of the toast and bacon she'd wrapped up at breakfast. "Here. It isn't much, I didn't want to make anyone suspicious, but—" Her father all but leapt on the food, abandoning the cat to run around the floor of the passage instead, and devoured the food with a dog-like appetite. "You are disgusting."

"Just hungry," he said once he was done, licking his lips. "Can't take the dog out of the man."

Aurora huffed. "Still disgusting. Look, I just wanted to update you, there seems to have been some sort of altercation between Ron Weasley's rat — they call him Scabbers — and Hermione Granger's cat. They seem to have fallen out over it and it seems quite serious, so I consider it a possibility that the rat may be dead. The cat's been after the rat for months, judging by Granger's moods. I haven't seen any sign of the rat myself, not that I imagine it would be particularly inclined to come into the Slytherin common room."

Her father blinked at her and gathered the ginger cat from before into his arms again. It did look like Granger's cat. "You mean this cat?"

"You know the cat?"

"Yeah." He shook his head. "He hasn't killed him or anything. Have you, Ginger?"

"Ginger," Aurora muttered. What an uninventive name.

"Whatever's happened, Peter's still alive."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes I'm sure. I trust this cat. He's my friend." The cat mewed in response.

"That's really sad."

A smile ghosted his lips. "What isn't?"

Aurora looked down awkwardly. This had strayed into the wrong sort of territory. She didn't want to talk about feelings. "How can you be sure? I mean, can you talk to the cat?"

"Not really, it's more of an... Instinctual means of communication. But I know Peter isn't dead. If he was I'd feel it."

"That's preposterous. You can't feel when people die."

"Can't you?" He licked his lips and his eyes glinted, stirring unease inside of Aurora. "But I will know when I get my revenge. Ginger left Peter alive for me. I'm going tonight."

"What?" Her mind seemed to grind to a halt. "But — but you can't!"

"And why not?"

"They've got so many people looking for you, it's far too dangerous! And you don't even know where the rat is — or if he's alive!" She glared at him. "Do you even have a plan or are you just going to go tearing off for revenge and get yourself caught and arrested? Again." Her voice went flat at the end and he caught her eye.

"I'm not going to get caught," he told her softly. "I'm not going to leave you."

"You've done absolutely nothing to prove that to me. And I don't care if you leave me, I just would rather you weren't a fool about it.

"So are you going to leave me then?" He sounded almost amused.

"Of course not," she spat back. "I'm not a traitor. I'd just rather you had a plan."

"I do! I have the passwords to their common room, it's likely he's hiding there somewhere and if I can get in—"

"He wouldn't hide in the Gryffindor common room! That's a ridiculous place to hide!"

"It was always where he was most comfortable. Surrounded by us, because we wouldn't let anyone hurt him." Her father's face contorted into a sneer.

"It's also where he's most likely to be found by Weasley and that cat." She shook her head. "He isn't there. And you can't break into school again."

"And why not?"

"It's too dangerous."

"Never bothered me before."

"It should," she said coldly. "And it bothers me, too. Your breaking in last time affected me whether you stopped to think about that or not. I'm going to keep my eyes out for this rat, okay? But you should stay here, hidden, until we can come up with a decent plan."

"And what if he hurts you? What if you find him and—"

"I'm a big girl," she said with a thin, mocking smile, "I can take care of myself."

"You don't know what he's capable of."

"But I know what I'm capable of." Aurora sighed. "Also, he has lived as a rat for the last twelve years. That accounts for a third of his entire life. Somehow, I don't think he'll be up to much." Her father looked intensely worried. She shook her head. "Can you calm down? Stop worrying over me."

"'Fraid it isn't quite so easy as that, Aurora."

"It should be," she retorted, folding her arms. She sighed. "Sorry. I think that might have been rude."

Her father just chuckled. "What's got your wand in a knot, Rory?"

"First of all, don't call me Rory. It's a boy's name, you chose Aurora. Second of all, nothing." He raised his eyebrows and Aurora sighed as she leaned against the wall of tunnel, feeling a leaf brush against the top of her hair. "Fine. They've given permission for the Dementors to give you the Kiss if they find you. And everyone thinks you deserve it, and I can't explain to anybody why you don't because if I started talking about your innocence they'd think I was mad or try to lock me up too! And if you kill—" She cut herself off. She knew her father wouldn't agree with what she was going to say.

"What?" he asked, frowning. "What's wrong?"

"If you — if you kill Pettigrew, then that means that you're still guilty. That means they'll find you and they'll take your soul." She looked down at the ground again, cheeks burning. "And there will be no chance at redemption. For you or for the family." Her father seemed at a loss for words. He tried to hug her but she shrugged him off. "Don't touch me," she growled. "I don't like people touching me." And she especially didn't want him thinking that her grudging acceptance of his existence meant anything.

"Aurora, I would love to stay. If I had my way, I would have raised you. You would never have had to live with my family."

"They loved me," she reminded him sharply, "I loved them, and they raised me. And it doesn't matter now, because they're dead and you're here but you still didn't raise me." She swallowed. "You have a choice. You always had a choice. Merlin, I don't even know why I'm bothering. You don't care." She straightened up abruptly and her father grabbed her hand. "I said, don't touch me, didn't I?"

"Aurora, of course I care," he said, voice horrifyingly soft. She glared fiercely down at him. "I've always cared."

"And what have you done about it!" She wrenched her hand from his grip. "Left me at the Longbottoms', went after a traitor to kill him instead of trying to care for your own daughter, got yourself imprisoned, didn't even try and defend yourself, throgouhly ruined the family name because all anyone thinks now is the family who killed so many and has to rely on a fourteen year old to keep the name alive, and you come back after twelve years and now you're going to kill the man anyway when you could just hand him to the Dementors instead and be free!" Her words came out in a rush, in the way they did when she hadn't even realised she was thinking them, but needed desperately to get rid of the awful feeling in her chest.

"I went to kill him because if I didn't I thought he would try to kill us! Because I was furious that he betrayed us, betrayed James and Lily! Because I'd lost Marlene because of him and I'd lost James and Lily and now Harry, too!"

"And you lost me too! Because you didn't think! So you have no right—"

"You don't know what it was like! And I am grateful every day that you didn't have to grow up in that world, and that's why I'm going to kill him, so that he can't hurt you!"

"He's had two and a half years, and he's done nothing!"

"That isn't a guarantee of anything, Aurora!" Her father had a slightly crazed look in his eye. "But don't you ever say that I don't care! Maybe I messed up—"

She made a strangled noise. "You were found guilty of mass murder and landed yourself a life sentence in Azkaban!"

"—but I have never stopped caring about you! I'm sorry I wasn't there while you grew up, I'm sorry—"

"I didn't need you anyway!"

"—but I'm here now and for what little time we have—"

"Which would be longer if you weren't trying to commit murder—"

"—I want to get to know my little girl!"

"I am not a little girl!"

Her words rang shrill in the air and he stepped forward, eyes wide and watery, looking like he wanted to clasp her hands but thought better of it. "Then show me who you are, Aurora. And I'll prove to you that I care about you, and that I've always cared about you." His eyes were still fierce and mad but they went softer. "That I've always loved you."

She glared at him, lost as to what she ought to do, what she could possibly say. "I didn't mean to shout," she told him in a clipped voice. "That was stupid of me, Father."

"You don't have to call me Father," he said. "I'm your dad."

She shook her head. "You're not. That's too familiar. Look, barring the fact that I have half your genes, you're not much more than an acquaintance. And I — I guess I don't hate you and I could come to care about you, but I don't know you."

He swallowed. "Then get to know me." Looking pained but oddly determined he said, "And what if I didn't kill him? What if we found him and brought him to Dumbledore to show him? If I was a free man, what would you do?"

She shrugged. "I don't know."

"Would you live with me?"

It was a horrible question to ask her, in Aurora's opinion. "You can't just ask me that." But when she'd moved in with Andromeda, she'd only met her once before. She'd grown to, if not love the Tonkses, like them and care about them. They were family now. She looked at her father. He seemed willing to put in the effort. She didn't want to live with him, but if he was free, she supposed she would consider getting to know him.

"I understand if you'd rather stay with Andromeda but—"

"I don't know," she said quickly, and looked at the ground so he wouldn't see her eyes. She couldn't leave them, not when she owed so much to them — and she didn't want to be with her father. Even the idea of being civil to him was foreign and vaguely uncomfortable.

Her father's face fell. "Aurora, Peter is a murderer. He killed my best friends, he killed your mother."

"I know," she said, "and I get it — I understand why you want to kill him and if you still do, I — I'm not going to stop you. But if you do, then nothing will be better. Everyone will still think you were the killer. Everyone will still hate you. Professor Lupin—"

"Professor who?" His eyes lit up and Aurora cursed internally.

"Lupin. He's this year's Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor."

A strange looked came over his face. Perhaps it was wistfulness, perhaps remiscing. "Professor Lupin, how about it." His eyes flickered. "I suppose... But no, he wouldn't want me..."

He took in a careful breath and Aurora took an opportunity. "If you kill him, he still wins, the Ministry will catch you one day, and the whole world hears the name Black and all they're going to think is murderer."

Long silence stretched between them. Her father said carefully, with a tense voice like he was trying to restrain his words, "I could... Not... murder Peter. But he tries to hurt a single hair on your or Harry's heads, and I will kill him. The slightest hint that he might be a threat—"

"My feet are big enough to squish a rat," she said. Her father seemed to find this amusing, face screwing up in laughter. "What?"

"Nothing, nothing." A smile threatened his straight face.

"What?"

"So. Peter. You let me know if you find him. If you can, capture him and bring him to Dumbledore. And keep an eye on Harry, too. Make sure no one tries hurting him."

She pulled a face. "I can't be nice to Potter."

He laughed, throwing his head back and barking like an actual dog. "You sound so disgusted."

"I am disgusted." She shook her head and folded her arms. "I'll compromise and promise I won't try and poison him again."

"The perfect solution."

She was kind of glad that her father didn't seem to care about the fact she'd poisoned Potter once. Maybe he thought she was joking. Maybe they were a little more similar than she'd hoped. "There's something else. A map. We made it while at school — James, Remus, Peter and I — and it shows all the secret passageways. It also shows the people moving around the school. Filch confiscated it in seventh year, it should still be in his office."

"A map?" she slowly. "It shows people — I could find him on it, couldn't I?"

"You should do. The magic might have worn away after all these years, but it will show him even in his animal form."

"And I could find him if he's hiding in the grounds," she said, nodding. "Unless he's already run off to Inverness." Unless this was a very clever and very convenient lie, to give the illusion of evidence and buy some time.

"No," her father said quietly, looking at the tunnel wall. "No, I think he'll stick around. See how it plays out. He's got nowhere else to go — the Death Eaters aren't too happy he led their master to his death, you see."

"That makes sense." Aurora pulled her hair behind her ear. "You want me to find this map, then?"

Her father nodded. "It'll just look like an old bit of parchment, but if you tap it, and say, I solemnly swear I am up to no good, then it'll reveal the map. To make it disappear you have to say mischief managed. And if you don't say the right words, our teenage selves will probably insult you."

She grinned. "I bet you all had awful senses of humour."

"Oh, my puns were the stuff of legend."

Trying not to laugh, because she was still angry at him, and still certainly didn't like him, Aurora pretended to be very interested in the ants crawling along the top of the tunnel wall. "Any other revelations for me?"

"I'll get back to you on that."

She nodded briskly. She still didn't trust that he wouldn't kill Pettigrew, or that he was telling the truth — though she was coming round to it more and more. She didn't want to believe him when he said he cared about her but she realised she had to let him prove it. They both had to try. "I'll see you soon. I promise. And I — I'll try not to shout again."

"Oh, I think shouting's good for your health. I rather enjoyed it — the Dementors aren't great for arguing with."

"Don't joke about that," she mumbled, even though it was a little funny. Aurora shook her head. "I'm going now. The Quidditch match could be over, Potter always catches the Snitch quickly and it makes the games incredibly dull. Any food requests for next time?"

"Chicken'd be brilliant. Do they still make chocolate frog? I used to love them — collected all the cards though I suppose they have a different run now."

"Yes, they still make chocolate frogs," she told him. "But I'm fairly certain dogs are allergic to chocolate."

"Not this dog," he said with a wolfish grin.

"Ah. So you're just greedy."

He made an offended sort of face. "Get back to school, you." Aurora snickered. "And be careful."

"I solemnly swear that I will be careful," she promised sarcastically.

"I mean it." His lips twitched in a half-smile.

"And so do I!" Aurora nodded to him. "Thank you, Father."

He winced. "I told you, Father sounds far too formal."

But 'dad' felt far too familiar. "Sirius, then," Aurora said, with a tweak of a smile.

To her relief, he smiled. "Sirius it is, then. Now go."

Still with the remnants of a grin on her face, Aurora made her way back out the passage. Granger's cat darted ahead to still the tree, and the sounds of the Quidditch match were still ongoing. She made her way towards school feeling like perhaps she had, for once, accomplished something good. Convincing her father not to murder someone definitely sounded like a good deed on paper, though Aurora did have to wonder if it would work. The foolish part of her trusted her father when he told her about Pettigrew, wanted, perhaps, to know him, but she couldn't allow herself to want those things. Aside from murderer, he was a traitor, and try as he might to say so, he wasn't family. He could become family, but she didn't know if she could ever reconcile what that meant.

And truth be told, she was scared that if she did allow him near her life, he would only let her down, or else, she would end up losing him too.

-*

A/N: Hello again! As always, thank you to everyone for reading. I forgot to mention this in my last update, but the extra Three Broomsticks scene from Harry's POV is now up on my profile, if anybody would like to read that. I hope it perhaps clarifies some things about Harry's thought process and character with regards to Aurora.