Aurora knew she had to bide her time when it came to retrieving the map. First of all, she would need a time in which to access it. It was not out of the ordinary for her to stay behind a class with a question, but getting him out of the room while she got a proper look would be much more difficult, and there was something most definitely worse about the idea of snooping through Lupin's desk rather than Filch's confiscated drawers, and Aurora felt guilty at the thought, after the kindness he had shown her. It felt like a betrayal, even if it was for the greater good.

It had occurred to her, of course, that she could use Peeves as a distraction again — but she didn't have anything over him this time and would rather avoid relying on someone else.

So, while Aurora worked on getting Lupin to trust her enough that he might actually leave her alone in his office in the first place and not be suspicious, she focused on acting as normal as she possibly could. The day after her argument with her father, feeling ashamed of the way she had left it, she sought out the mad ginger cat and gave it a small piece of parchment which bore only the word: sorry. He did not reveal himself to speak, but she saw him in the grounds on Tuesday afternoon. He had not left, which was not a surprise. At least she could say she tried — but she could not tell him what to do. Potter seemed to have been embarrassed into quietness after Snape had caught him and Lupin had taken the map from him, and Aurora could not have been more glad for a bit of peace in the run up to Slytherin's game against Hufflepuff at the end of March.

It was played in better conditions than they'd had all year, but Aurora was still apprehensive. They had to win this game to secure their Quidditch Cup victory. If they lost, they were still in the lead, but stood the risk of Gryffindor winning their Hufflepuff game with a great points difference. There was, of course, still the possibility of Hufflepuff snatching an overall cup win, but they were running such a points deficit after their humiliating 300-140 defeat to Ravenclaw last term that it would take either a miracle or a highly suspect cheating curse — which was unlikely from the badgers — for them to win it back. Still, it was a possibility, and Aurora thought anyone who believed the cup in the bag to be a fool.

She started off on the benches as usual, with a clear view of the pitch. The Hufflepuff Seeker was attractive, she had to admit. Lucille had discussed Cedric Diggory's hair at great length that morning, before hurriedly assuring the girls that she would never, ever go for a Hufflepuff, even if the Diggorys were generally pureblooded. Still, Aurora wasn't going to be distracted by it, and was frankly offended that the boys had suggested she would. She knew why of course — because they were pathetic bastards.

They took to the air in a flurry of colour. Aurora watched carefully, tracking the Chasers and then the Beaters and Bludgers. Draco was trailing Diggory around the pitch, eyes peeled for the Snitch.

The Hufflepuff Chasers' defense was, frankly, atrocious. Their Keeper wasn't much better, and stood absolutely no chance against Flint. His energy and frustration had been building and building for the past few weeks, and he was as formidable as ever. That energy spread to all the others, too. Derrick and Bole hit the Bludgers with a ferocity that really could take someone's head off their shoulders, and seemed to realise that Diggory was their greatest challenge.

But Aurora had to admit that Diggory was a good flier. He twisted away from Bludgers at the last second, and when he wasn't doing that or looking for the snitch, he was diving down into the throng of the Chasers and thoroughly disrupting all of Flint's carefully worked out formations and plans. It was a point of both frustration and admiration that Aurora realised he did it all while smiling, caught in the rush of flying. She knew the feeling.

The more the game wore on, the more she found herself itching to get on her broom and join her team in the sky. But their Chasers were relentless, scoring goal after goal. The score ticked upwards, passing through the hundred mark. The Slytherin end of the stands grew louder and louder; it was now entirely possible that they would surpass a hundred and fifty point lead and take away any chance of Hufflepuff comeback. It had been known to happen.

Aurora twisted her hands in her lap as she watched, eyes flicking back to Draco every now and then. But he didn't seem to have spotted the Snitch anywhere, and she hadn't caught so much as a glimmer of gold wings. Cassius scored, then Montague, and the quaffle fell to the Hufflepuffs, bringing the score to a hundred and thirty to twenty. Aurora bit her lip, watching, as Hufflepuff scored twice more and then one of their Chasers took a Bludger to the shoulder.

Then, just as the score got to a hundred and seventy in Slytherin's favour, Diggory went into a steep dive. He was on the other side of the pitch to Draco, and Aurora could see the Snitch hovering by the goalposts. She shrieked for her cousin, and he was speeding downwards as fast as he could, but it wasn't fast enough.

"No, no, no," she muttered, clasping her hands. "No, Draco, no—"

But the roar from the Hufflepuff stands was enough to drown out all her words and thoughts. They went wild; the score had ticked over to a hundred and ninety to a hundred and seventy, and Slytherin had lost.

Flint's face was scarlet and furious as the team rushed towards the ground. "Malfoy," he barked, and Draco hurried to Aurora's side, where she quickly stepped just in front of him, meeting Flint's eyes. "What are you playing at? You missed the Snitch!"

"I tried!" Draco said indignantly. "I was too far away!"

Flint looked at him in disgust. "You could've just lost us the cup!"

"We don't know that, Marcus," Cassius said, before Aurora could. "Gryffindor and Hufflepuff have still to play, and we've the biggest point lead."

"You think Oliver Wood's going to let his Seeker get away with missing the Snitch?" Flint bellowed, and Cassius flinched. "You think Gryffindor are going to let up? Bullshit! You've lost us the cup! All that whining about your arm, it's your bloody nerve that's the problem—"

"Shove off, Flint," Aurora snapped at him, stepping forward, anger bursting through her. "What's done is done, like Cassius said, we don't know what's going to happen. Even so, we've won two of three games! Draco beat Chang!"

"I don't care!" Flint yelled, now attracting the attention of Madam Hooch. "He didn't beat Diggory! Fucking Hufflepuff!"

"Diggory's good!" Draco shot back. "I'll do better next year!"

"I won't be here next year!" Flint yelled, and then, clasping his broom so tight Aurora thought he might snap it, he stormed off to the changing rooms. "Fucking Hufflepuff!"

They all watched him go. Bletchley threw Draco an unnecessarily scathing look and storm after Flint. Derrick and Bole glanced at each other, shrugged, and they slunk off too just as Diggory and the Hufflepuff Captain came jogging over.

"Good match," he said, though the words were lost to half the time. Aurora tried to mask her irritation at the loss, for Draco's sake, but seeing the Hufflepuffs all grinning made it worse.

"Yeah," Draco muttered, kicking the ground. "Well done, Diggory. Good catch."

Then he turned, robes whipping around his ankles and strode not to the changing rooms but out of the pitch towards the castle. Aurora sighed and exchanged a glance with Cassius. Diggory's hand was hanging out in mid-air, and his eyes shifted uncertainly. He coughed. "Um, you all played pretty well. 'Specially you, Warrington."

Montague glared, but Cassius gave a grudging smile and shook Diggory's hand. Aurora exhaled and met his eye. "That was a good spot from you, Diggory," she said. "Well played."

"Right." Never had she seen such uneasiness in his smile. "Cheers, Black."

Then he withdrew, and with one last tight smile, went running back towards his cheering team and the riotous Hufflepuff stands.

The three of them stood uncertainly together for a moment longer, before Montague grunted, "Better get to Flint," and trudged off.

Cassius winced. "Has Draco just... Gone, then?"

"Looks like it." Aurora groaned. "I can't believe we lost."

"We were doing well, too," Cassius muttered, motioning for her to walk with him. She was glad of the excuse to get away from the Hufflepuffs and the approximately three quarters of the school who were far, far too pleased to see the Slytherin team lose. "Ten more minutes, and they wouldn't have stood a chance even with the snitch."

"I know." Aurora scowled, dragging her broom behind her. "Fucking Hufflepuffs."

Cassius grinned. Aurora didn't know how he managed it. "Still," he said, "there's always next year, right?"

"Suppose," Aurora said with a frown, "But I can't stand the thought of Gryffindor winning this year, can you?"

"I can't stand the thought of them winning, ever," Cassius told her, and Aurora gave a weary laugh.

"It'd be even worse than giving the cup to Hufflepuff."

Cassius shook his head. "Potter's got a Firebolt," he reminded her, much to her annoyance. "Diggory's decent, but he got lucky — and he's on a Cleansweep."

"Their Chasers might scrape it," Aurora suggested, but she knew it was unlikely. Diggory was Hufflepuff's best player, and their Chasers had proven their incompetence. They weren't beating Gryffindor, and they probably weren't going to stop Gryffindor from getting a high enough point lead to win the whole damned Quidditch Cup.

Neither of them were convinced by the other. They paused at the changing room door, on the other side of which Aurora could already hear Flint ranting and raving about their loss, swearing about Draco. She clenched her fists. "It's not all bloody Draco's fault," she said to Cassius. "If he'd wrangled Derrick and Bole into shape maybe they could have done something about Diggory. He got lucky, that's all."

"He's just upset," Cassius said. "He'll cool down once he's said his piece." His eyes darted to meet hers. "You should probably get to Draco, anyway. Wherever he's gone."

Aurora scowled at the thought of returning to the common room. Slytherins didn't lose well. "Yeah," she muttered, handing her broom over to Cassius. "Put this in the team store for me, would you?"

"Course," Cassius said. There was something troubled in his eyes as he took the broom, somethig uncertain. "Here's to next year?"

"Yeah." She swallowed tightly over the bitterness of the loss. It wasn't over yet, she told herself. "Better get practicing."

Then, trying not to show her fury at the extravagant celebrations of the raucous Hufflepuff team behind her, Aurora stalked off of the pitch towards the castle.

As predicted, Draco was in an awful mood. Even as Aurora tried to cheer him up — "You're still a great player, it's just one game" — she knew her own irritation with the outcome of the match seeped through. And he wasn't the only one. The whole of the dungeons was somber and quiet, and the corner of the common room inhabited by Flint and Bletchley's group of seventh year boys was snappish and brittle enough that no one, not even the usual entourage of sixth year girls, wanted to go near.

Potter looked far too smug when Aurora saw him at dinner, just as she was trying to shield Draco from the crowing looks of most of the school. Bastards, she thought, seeing even a group of Ravenclaws cheering on the loss. The whole lot of them.

Even Professor Lupin gave his condolences when she stayed behind for a moment after class on Monday. "Slytherin did play well," he told her as he scanned over the essay she had handed him. It wasn't homework, but instead more of a working out of her own research on Red Caps, as practice for the exam. "Much as it pains me to say it."

"That just makes it all the worse," she sighed, dragging her hands through her hair. "Draco's been beating himself up about it all weekend. I think Flint'll lose it if Gryffindor end up winning the cup when they play Hufflepuff — not that he didn't lose it on Saturday."

Lupin winced. "Yes, I was unfortunate to witness a bit of that post-match..."

"Tantrum," Aurora filled in flatly. His lips twitched. "It was a tantrum."

With a chuckle, Lupin said, "Well, I'm sure all Quidditch Captains have had a meltdown or two in their time. This passage about the blood spawning is interesting, Aurora, I'm not sure I've read the book you cited—"

A bang went off in the corridor outside and Aurora jumped out of her skin. Lupin knocked over an inkwell, standing abruptly. There was a high pitched whizzing sound and then the sound of another explosion further away. It sounded like...

"Fireworks," Lupin said.

Aurora sneered. "Weasleys."

Lupin glanced at her. "Stay in here, just in case it's — not Weasleys. Zonko's fireworks can be pretty dangerous, not that students ever give enough thought — I won't be a moment."

He darted out quickly, far quicker than Aurora would have imagined. To her surprise, he slammed the door behind him.

She had only a second for her mind to reel before she hurried around the edge of his desk, and opened the drawer in which the map had been. Shaking, she took it out and laid it flat on the table. Her father had created this — along with James Potter and Remus Lupin and Peter Pettigrew. She clenched her jaw. So he said. This map could prove he was telling the truth, and it could also condemn him.

There was no time to waste.

Aurora took at her wand and pointed it at the arm parchment, whispering with trembling lips, "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good."

It felt like quite the understatement, given her motivations.

But she found she didn't quite care, as deep red ink began to spread across the parchment, revealing the words: MESSRS MOONY, WORMTAIL, PADFOOT AND PRONGS ARE PROUD TO PRESENT THE MARAUDERS' MAP.

It was real. He hadn't been lying. The thought swelled inside Aurora as she hastily opened the parchment, trying to keep an ear out for Lupin's footsteps amongst the shrieking fireworks. They had started making a noise like a lion's roar — definitely Weasleys.

Her eyes slipped over the map, scouring it for the name Peter Pettigrew. She could see herself in Lupin's study, with the professor himself three corridors away, leaving her enough time to look through it properly. She saw Harry Potter's name with Granger and Weasley in the direction of Gryffindor Tower. There was Albus Dumbledore, pacing in his office, McGonagall seemingly running out of hers, to confront the source of the fireworks.

She looked into the grounds, seeing no Peter Pettigrew in Gryffindor Tower, though all the names were clustered so closely together that she could easily have missed him. There were the names of Cassius Warrington and Graham Montague with a group of other Slytherins and Gryffindors heading up through the grounds from the Care of Magical Creatures ring. Rubeus Hagrid was headed towards his little hut that sat by the edge of the forest, and she looked further, towards the marked out treeline near the boundaries of the map and—

The name Peter Pettigrew was marked in a clearing of trees.

The breath was swept from Aurora so suddenly she could hardly think. It was real. It was real, her father had been telling the truth — Pettigrew was alive and he was the reason her mother had been killed.

For a long moment, it was all Aurora could do to stare at the map, as the Peter Pettigrew label scurried around at the edge, and then slipped off the end. But she had seen it. He was trying to keep off the radar, hide — but she had seen him.

Caught up in her discovery, Aurora almost didn't notice the noise outside fading or Lupin coming closer, until he was just outside the door.

"Mischief managed," she said hurriedly, and barely waited for the ink to fade before she shoved the map back into the top of the drawer and hurtled around the side of the desk, leaning against one of the tables at the front of the class, just in time for Lupin to open the door.

Her heart was hammering so loudly in her chest that she was certain Lupin could hear, certain that he knew exactly what she was thinking and what she had just done. Indeed, he did give her a funny look, and Aurora wondered if it wouldn't just be easier to tell him, to unveil the truth to him as well. He could help, she thought, maybe. But she couldn't know, and she didn't think her father would appreciate if she told him. Still, she wasn't sure why she was supposed to listen to her father.

"Sorry about that," Lupin said before Aurora could speak — though what on earth she was going to say, she didn't know. "It was the Weasley twins, as you guessed. Celebrating the match."

She scowled as he sat down, glancing over her essay, seemingly oblivious to what was in his drawer. Proof. "Of course they were."

He just nodded in response and then read her essay silently. Aurora stood, growing more uncomfortable by the second, until finally he said, "It's good. You've researched it well, though I'd like a little more incorporation of the nature of the Red Cap and how we understand it from a Defensive standpoint. Other than that, I think it would stand you well." The corners of his eyes crinkled when he looked at her. "You've nothing to worry about on the written paper, Aurora, I am quite sure of that."

"Thank you, Professor," she said quietly, but she wasn't quite ready to go yet. "And the practical? What do you think?"

At this, his smile grew — if possible — even more strained. "The Boggart will prove difficult, but you knew this. I believe you are capable. But you must keep a clear head."

She nodded hastily. Truth be told, she wasn't even certain what her Boggart would be now. If it changed, that might give her away too, she thought suddenly. But there was more about her father she was scared of than his physical presence; she was scared she would end up like him, alone, kicked out of the family, a traitor. She was scared to be like him, even now. And she was scared to care for him.

With that thought, she took her essay back from Lupin. "Thank you, Professor. I'll see you in class."

He nodded, and she had just turned around when he asked, "Would you like me to take a look at your Patronus work again sometime, Aurora? You made good progress last time, I think you could manage it soon enough."

The offer was slightly unsettling, but she knew he meant well. And even just being nearer him and getting him to trust her could prove advantageous. Plus, she knew Lupin knew more about the charm than she did. So she smiled carefully. "That would be brilliant if you would, Professor. I still haven't managed to get it to take a very clear form." She grinned at him, and was pleased to note his own smile.

"I have no doubts that you'll manage it," he said warmly. "We can schedule a meeting for after the Easter holidays — I have a lot of marking to catch up on."

She nodded hastily. "Thank you, Professor. I really appreciate it. Enjoy your holiday."

He watched her go with a bemused sort of look, and Aurora tried to keep herself steady on her feet. Her father had been telling the truth after all.

There wasn't much left of the term. The Easter holidays were next week and then exams came not long after. Hermione Granger was stressed out already. She had to get back to her father, tell him what she'd learned — and then what? She needed to get the map, but Lupin was still there. She should have taken it when she had the choice, and cursed herself for not doing so.

But she knew now. She knew that, even if her father wasn't telling the truth about everything, he was telling the truth about one thing. He had not killed Peter Pettigrew, and therefore had not killed those twelve muggles either. As for the reasons why Peter Pettigrew had faked his own death and spent twelve years hiding as Ron Weasley's rat... She had trouble believing an innocent man would run like that, when people like Dumbledore would have been options for him to seek shelter with.

That led her to a conclusion that shouldn't have been as terrifying as it was, that hadn't been until she was truly convinced by it.

That her father was truly innocent. And she could, in fact, prove it.

-*

The Easter holidays were hectic, to say the least. Their professors had all piled on the homework ahead of their exams, and even Aurora found herself struggling to get through it while her mind was elsewhere. A few of her friends had gone home for the holidays, but Dora had her Auror exams coming up soon and Aurora hadn't wanted to get in the way, knowing just how nervous Dora was and how easily distracted she could get.

It was on a bright Tuesday afternoon when all of her friends were caught up in a Potions essay that she went out on a run by the treeline, trying to keep her eyes out for either her father or any out of place rats. It was her father's dark dog form that she identified lurking in the shadows, and Aurora jogged over nervously. No one was around to see her, stuck indoors studying, and so she ducked into the trees, and when she was far enough in that she knew there was no one else around, she said quietly, "I saw him on the map. Pettigrew. You were telling the truth." She could have sworn the dog was smiling. "My exams are coming up. But we likely don't have much time, he could make a run for it. Lupin doesn't seem to have noticed him yet. I was thinking — perhaps we should tell him." Her father barked loudly in protest and she sighed. "If we have proof, he can help. People trust him." But the dog shook its head. "You know I'm right," she grumbled, staring at the faint light beyond the forest. "We need a plan."

There was a flash of light and her father transformed back into a man. It still startled her, but she covered it with a glare. "You shouldn't do that. It could blow your cover."

"You need to get the map," he told her.

"Well, I tried, but—"

"Where was he?"

"At the edge of the forest. He was sort of just scurrying about — you might be able to find him, I don't know. If you do..." She wasn't quite sure how to finish that sentence. It seemed he didn't know either. "Find me." The thought made a lump rise in her throat, but she nodded as evenly as she could. "You need to keep your eyes out," she told her father. "If he is lurking about the forest. And you need to be careful too. If you're seen on the map..."

"I know," her father said, gnawing at his lip. "Still. It's Remus." His smile flickered with an uncertainty which Aurora did not appreciate.

"I could tell him the truth. It may help."

But still he shook his head. "No. I can't burden him. I doubt he'll want anything to do with me after all these years... I believed him the traitor."

"And he believed the same of you," she reminded him sharply. "Father — Sirius — at least consider it."

His answering smile was so similar to Lupin's that Aurora couldn't help but be taken aback. "I've considered it a million times," he told her. "And yet... I can't bring myself to do it. To see him again, after everything."

"That's stupid and you know it."

She wanted her words to cut into him but he seemed, to her chagrin, unaffected. "Perhaps. If we find Peter, then I can tell him. But I don't know what he might do. How he might react, and I don't want to put you in harm's way."

She tried not to answer that she was in harm's way already. She could not force her father to reveal himself, and in truth, she didn't know how Lupin might react either. He already seemed wary after their last conversation, when she had inexplicably made the wrong move.

"I'll get the map," she said at last. "But you — stay out of trouble."

He shot her a wolfish grin. "You know me, Rory."

"I don't, actually," she muttered under her breath, but he appeared not to hear her, or perhaps he was trying to ignore it. He turned back into a dog in a flash, and with a sharp nod of the head, Aurora turned and left the forest, head whirring.

-*

The load of homework only got heavier after the Easter holidays, as the students were plunged into studying for the end of year exams. Aurora split her time between that and trying to get back to Lupin's office and get the Marauders' Map, something which was now proving more and more difficult. At the end of the holidays, Lupin looked incredibly wan and pale, and she barely got a chance to greet him before she was being waved off and Draco and Pansy had swept her along to their next class.

And by the end of the week, the whole castle was abuzz with anticipation for the final Quidditch match of the year. It was one match which Aurora truthfully, would have rather avoided. She didn't think she could stand it if Gryffindor won, and won the cup, and had planned to camp out in the common room with Theodore all day. She had hoped that Lupin would go to the match, giving her some time to sneak around to his office, but it seemed fate had other ideas. She followed him out of breakfast — which had been awful, since the Gryffindors and Potter entered the hall to an actual round of applause, which made Aurora want to be sick — and he went straight to his office. As far as she could tell, he didn't leave when the rest of the school trudged down to the match, and she eventually admitted defeat and returned to the common room to theorise some more.

Theodore did still seem surprised at her choice of company, but didn't question it when she asked him to budge up and make room for her on the sofa beside him. He was quiet, but he was better company than the roaring crowds and Potter's ginormous ego.

Aurora was fairly sure that, with exams coming up, all the professors' offices would be guarded more than usual, to prevent anyone from getting a sneak preview of the assessment content. That made everything all the more trickier, and she felt she would have to find a way to get to it whenever she and Lupin met to go over the Patronus Charm, but something about that specific circumstance made her less comfortable with the idea of taking from his office.

The Slytherins returned to the common room sulking at one o'clock in the afternoon and Aurora wanted to bury herself in the sofa. They couldn't have even one thing go right this year, not one thing go her way. The Quidditch Team got together for one last declaration of their desire to defeat Gryffindor, which fell short: they had just missed out on the cup, as Gryffindor had taken an astonishing two hundred and twenty point lead in the end, and edged just above Slytherin in the rankings.

"Hufflepuff didn't stand a chance," Cassius told her mournfully, as Flint blustered about how the trophy should have been theirs, if it wasn't for stupid Cedric Diggory and an absentminded Seeker, a proclamation which had Aurora's temper rising and Draco shouting in retaliation.

"Bloody Gryffindors," she muttered, leaning against Cassius slightly, thinking of Potter's smug face and then Weasley and Granger, and then Lupin and her father, all of them bloody Gryffindors indeed. They couldn't just make her life easy.

The next two weeks were a lesson in restraint from Aurora, both in restraining from either spilling the truth to Lupin or tripping over it whenever she tried to get near his desk, and in restraining from hexing Potter every time he brought up his victory — which was often.

"Better luck next year, Malfoy," he'd crowed to Draco as they left Care of Magical Creatures after their last lesson before the exam. "Pity that shiny broom doesn't do you any good. Maybe you do need to add an extra arm."

Aurora had sneered at him, about to retort, when she saw something small and grey scuttle along the windowsill of Professor Hagrid's hut. She tried to get a better look, her heart in her throat, but then Weasley called, "You've been awfully quiet, Black. Suppose you're embarrassed. You all thought you had it in the bag, didn't you?"

"Embarrassed by what?" she asked him sharply, turning around. "The most embarrassing thing here is your stupid face."

She took Draco's arm before anyone could retort, and when she glanced back at the hut where she could have sworn she saw a rat, there was nothing. Still, her heart hammered as she made her way up to the castle.

Soon, she thought to herself nervously all the way. It had to be soon.

-*

She had told her father already that her exams were coming up, but she hadn't really expected him to care beyond the disruption it posited to their plan. Yet, in the morning, she received a note at breakfast, two words: good luck.

She didn't want to smile at it, and so tucked it in her pocket. It had been stupid of him to write to her. She would have to burn the parchment, to be safe.

Draco stared over at her. "Who's it from?" he asked through a mouthful of toast, nodding to her pocket.

"Just the Tonkses." The lie came easily. "They're wishing me good luck for the exams."

Draco snorted and shook his head. "Because you need luck. You've barely looked up from your books. You're getting as bad as Nott."

Theodore, who had indeed been reading over his Charms textbook, glanced up at the sound of his name. "What have I done?" he asked, and Daphne swatted his shoulder.

"Being the biggest swot in the year," she said, causing Theodore to blush.

"I'm just studying," he said, with a glance along at Aurora. "It's important, isn't it, Black?"

"Very." The corners of her lips twitched up, and she caught the fleeting uncertainty in Draco's eyes. "I'm sure we'll all be fine, though."

Even so, she wondered in a moment of panic if she should be reading over her Charms textbook too. Theodore was the best in their year at Charms, apart from Granger, and if he was nervous and still studying, surely she should be too? She couldn't afford her grades to go downhill, not this year.

"I'm probably overdoing it anyway," Theodore said quietly, closing his book. "My grandfather thinks... Well, I have to do well, is all."

Pansy tutted loudly, rolling her eyes. "We all have to do well, Theodore. Don't act like you're stupid or something."

Aurora could see the faint smile those words garnered from him, as he reached for his orange juice. Still, there was something more worried in his gaze, she noticed, a slight stiffness to the set of his smile and a coldness to the edges of his eyes. When he caught her looking, Theodore turned away sharply, and Aurora felt warmth rush to her cheeks.

Nerves over the exam ate her up inside all day, but Aurora knew she couldn't let it get the better of her. She had studied as hard as she could, especially given the circumstances, and she knew she was a good student. Somehow, though, that made her fear of failure worse, even if she knew it was entirely unfounded.

And the exams didn't go too awfully, she did have to admit. Granger, predictably, was in all of a flap after Ancient Runes, chattering away to a bored Frida Selwyn about her mishap with Elder and Younger Futhorc.

Though she would never admit it, Aurora was most nervous about her Defense Against the Dark Arts exam. She wanted to impress Lupin, wanted to show him just how good she was. She had been practicing her patronum charm, too, of course, when she took a break from studying, and while she was able to sustain the charm for much longer now, and it was getting stronger, the patronus itself still wasn't corporeal by any means, and she desperately wanted to achieve that by the end of term. Her spellwork was a matter of pride — but it wasn't the only thing she had to worry about.

Aurora visited his office three nights before the day of her final exams — Defense Against the Dark Arts and Arithmancy. There was a genuine question that had been eating at her, but she also had the hope in her that he would let her in. That she would have a chance at getting the map.

"Aurora," he said warmly when she appeared. Though, she noted, he looked rather wan, and slightly sickly. "What can I do for you?"

"Oh," she said quietly, ducking her head. "It's silly. I know you're probably not allowed to say anything, I just... I'm so nervous about the exams. I wondered if there was anywhere I could use to practice. Especially... The Boggart."

She let him fill in the gaps, slightly guilty for using him like this.

"You shouldn't be ashamed of it," he told her sternly. "Everyone is scared of something. I recall..." His voice faded, and Aurora took the opportunity to edge further into the office. "You were very capable the first time in class, and I'm sure this will be no different." She nodded thickly, and lingered in the doorway for just long enough that Lupin sighed and nodded for her to sit down.

"Professor, I did wonder — now the exams are at a close, would you be able to help me with my Patronus again before the end of term? I've still been practicing by myself, but I think I'm close to achieving it and some extra help could really get me there."

His smile flickered but he said, "Certainly. This weekend may be difficult, but sometime later next week may work once I've completed my marking." She stared down at the desk, waiting for him to continue. "I remember your mother learning the Charm," he said suddenly, completely throwing Aurora off. Her head snapped up. "She was insistent that she master it before any of us. I believe a fair few of her memories pertained to flying, too." Aurora felt a flush rise to her cheeks at the comparison. "She loved Quidditch, much as you do. Helped win a lot of matches for Gryffindor, as a Beater. Marlene was very sporty."

A faint smile traced Aurora's lips; she saw no reason to suppress it. "It would be Gryffindor, wouldn't it?"

Lupin laughed. "I see a lot of her in you. More than I expected, I suppose. She was a marvellous woman, Aurora."

"I'm sure she was," she replied quietly. It was a pity she had never gotten the chance to know so for herself. "Did she manage it? In the end?"

Lupin nodded, eyes distant from her. Remembering the past. "Her Patronus took the form of a lion." She almost laughed. "I don't think any of us should have been surprised by it, really."

"No?"

He shook his head. "She was rather fierce. Gryffindor through and through. Patroni generally are the sort of thing, you're never sure what form it will take, but often once you see it, you realise it could never have been anything else."

Aurora nodded. "Well, I'm not sure my Patronus will be a lion." He chuckled lowly. "But you will keep helping me?"

He couldn't very well say no now. Lupin nodded. "Yes. I will, Aurora."

"Good," she said, with an only slightly exaggerated sigh of relief. "It doesn't look like they're going away any time soon, anyway."

"No." His lips twisted uncertainly and he cast his eyes down in a sigh. "It certainly does not."

She let that thought linger for a moment. The clock in the corner of the room ticked over, and she glanced at the darkening sky outside the window. "I ought to go," she told him. "I still have exams."

"Oh, yes," Lupin said with a small chuckle. "I'm sure you have nothing to worry about though."

"Thank you, Professor," she said, and slipped out.

-*

It was two nights later that she dug out the trip-wire dungbombs from Zonko's joke shop — which she knew to be a favourite of Fred and George Weasley — and set them two corridors away from Professor Lupin's office. She felt the barest twinge of guilt, but had to shrug it off. It was for the best, and if she worried about such things then she would never get anything done. And this needed to be done.

She waited in the alcove hidden by a tapestry just around the corner from Lupin's office. It didn't take her too long — the office's positioning between the library and Ravenclaw Tower meant this corridor was often frequented — and then she heard shouting. Aurora hid her snickers, waiting with bated breath for Professor Lupin to run past and around the corner, swearing all the while, before she ran, too. He had left his office door just ajar and she bolted in, opening the drawer and going through it as quickly and carefully as she could before her fingers closed around the familiar map. She wasted no time in wresting it out, then closed the drawer, making sure everything else was just as it had been, and ran for it.

On her way past, she tossed one of Robin's motion-sensitive fireworks as far as she could down the corridor that led to Gryffindor Tower, to be on the safe side.

She didn't stop running until she was in the safety of her room, and sighed, leaning back against her pillows. She had done it. Aurora opened the map up quickly, and searched for the name Peter Pettigrew. It didn't take long to find. He was in Hagrid's hut, as she had expected. It might be tricky to get in and get to him, as Hagrid spent so much time in his hut — and he had that rather large dog to guard it — but she had to find a way. She could see her father lurking at the edge of the forest and sighed.

Now she only had to wait until the right moment.