Aurora's birthday turned out to be a less organised affair than it had been in years past, though she found she didn't mind much. She and her friends had a little gathering around their usual couches in the common room, and it wasn't anything special except for the cake Robin and Theodore had procured, but it was sweet. People drifted around, and thanks to the large rosette Gwen had forced her to pin to her robes, knew to wish her a happy birthday — Cassius she didn't mind, nor Drina Bulstrode or Astoria or the Carrow sisters, but those she barely spoke to got on her nerves. Most of them wouldn't have gone near her last year, after all, and though she knew she could not shut herself off from anyone on that basis alone — they had had good reason, or at least thought they did, last year — it was enough to get on her nerves. At least, she felt, their birthday wishes were an indication that the memory of Skeeter's article wasn't too prominent for most of her house, having blown over in the two weeks since its publication, or at least it had within Hogwarts' walls.
Even Potter had wished her 'happy birthday' in the morning, a most unexpected event. He'd said it before Potions and tossed a chocolate frog to her, smirking, as though waiting to see what she would do next. Accept the gift, and bring the self-conceived shame of fraternising with him, or reject it and cause a scene that would inevitably get back to her father, as well as piss off all the Gryffindors around her.
The fact that he'd actually remembered the date — though probably he had been reminded by her father — was enough to cause her to freeze up in bewilderment anyway, and she'd only managed to drawl a rather cold and insincere, "Thank you ever so much," before Draco and Vincent and Greg arrived, their overbearing presence putting a quick stop to any further conversation.
On the final day of September, Aurora slipped away to Dumbledore's office after lunch. Snape had taken a lot of persuading to let her miss class, and she suspected Dumbledore had intervened in the end, but she made it to the Assembly in one piece.
It wasn't a full assembly, of course. Most of Wizarding Britain didn't care much for dragon importation, and a number of the Hereditary wizards had declined to turn up, as had a handful of elected members.
Upon arrival, feeling quite alone in the sea, Aurora tried to get her bearings with the group, staring around for a familiar face. There was Lord Malfoy, in low conversation with Selwyn and Rosier, huddled in a darker corner where a few of the other hereditary purebloods flitted about. Near them, some of the lords from newer families stood, the sort Aurora knew of vaguely but had never been formally introduced to — Vaisey, Alpin, Thorel, and Rhys, all from rich families which, while not pureblood, and therefore somewhat looked down upon, were exceedingly wealthy, influential, and above all, elevated to the same status as their pureblood peers, from reforms made only a few decades ago which had introduced 'new blood' to the Assembly. Spying Lords Abbott and MacMillan with Aloysius Vabsley, leader of the Assembly, Aurora braced herself and debated going to make conversation.
Then her eye was caught by a tall wizard, auburn haired and middle-aged, with a brooch in the shape of a diagonal cross gleaming upon his violet Assembly robes. He looked over at the same time and raised his eyebrows, in either intrigue or challenge. Carrick Bratt — the elected representative for Cornwall, a Direct Democract campaigning for the dissolution of hereditary peerage.
At least there was more curiosity in his gaze than there was hatred, though that thought didn't do much to still Aurora's nerves as he made his way over.
"Sir Bratt," she greeted him, holding her hand out.
He met her gaze with a cold, rather critical look, and shook her hand firmly. There was only the slightest incline of his head as he said, "Lady Black. I did not expect you to be here."
"I thought the vote might be of interest to my people," she told him flatly, taking her hand swiftly away. "It is my understanding that many think such a relaxation of the creature importation market, may open the door for native Cornish pixie breeders to expand their own customer bases."
"You understand correct," Bratt admitted, and she smiled. "I take it you are to vote in favour of the bill, then?"
"Of course."
"And the upcoming werewolf bill?" Now, his eyes were lit with curiosity, but it was the sharp, probing sort, a malicious intrigue lingering there. "I've heard statements from many of our constituents who are against the bill. It undoes all the work we have tried to do in this past decade, to break from old prejudices. Wouldn't you agree?"
She floundered for a moment, caught off guard by his intensity, and said shortly, "I think the bill sets a rather... Distressing precedent."
A grin spread across his grin. "Then we can count on you for the opposition, Lady Black?"
"I have not chosen to affiliate myself to any party yet."
"Oh, I don't need you in our party. But you have to realise, we all are very curious as to your politics. You've kept so quiet. Our people of Cornwall have no idea who you are or what you stand for. Who are your allies, or your enemies?"
She let out a low, short laugh. "I don't intend to make enemies, Sir Bratt."
"My lady, no one intends to make enemies." The smile turned to a smirk, condescending, and Aurora bristled. "But it is inevitable."
"And here I thought your party would like to make enemies of us all?"
At that, he let out a short laugh. "Much as I may disagree with your status, Lady Black, I don't think we have to be enemies." She raised her eyebrows, struggling to understand that rationale. "My duty, I believe, is to the people who elected me. If to do right by them, I have to make myself an ally of yours, that's what I'll do. Think of this as an olive branch, Lady Black.
"I'm far less your enemy than some of these lords you wish to call friends."
"Perhaps," she conceded with a careful, nervous smile, "I do look forward to corresponding with you, Sir Bratt. I may not affiliate with your party, but you are right. Our people are our utmost duty."
He looked almost amused by her words, by the way she said it. Even Aurora could hear the stilted tone of her own voice, and got the perplexing feeling of being stuck within the confines of her own youth, surrounded by many much older and more experienced than she herself. She was using all the words she thought she ought to say and yet somehow they still felt like the wrong ones. She should have been more practiced at this, she thought, should have been able to fit in naturally here, to talk the way these elder politicians did. Her age was no excuse, she told herself, suddenly wishing that she had brought Potter along for this vote, too, if only because she knew he would be less experienced and less at ease than she was.
"Then I hope you will do the right thing," Bratt said, before nodding to someone behind Aurora's shoulder. "Excuse me, Lady Black. I expect we will be going inside soon, and I must speak to Lord Rhys."
"Of course, Sir Bratt," Aurora said quickly, nodding to him as he hurried off, leaving her again cold and alone and exposed, in the atrium before the Assembly Chamber, staring at the grand oak doors, nerves tumbling in the minutes she waited for them to open and the session to begin.
The vote was not an overly-complicated matter, in the end. Many of the Assembly members had not shown up after all, but after statements from Tristan Rhys - Lord Member for Powys - and representatives from each party, the vote was announced. It was a new process to try, as Aurora had to register her opinion by sending up either red, grey, or green sparks - red for no, grey for abstention, and green for yes - but it passed easily by a majority of sixty-three to thirty-two: forty five members had abstained. Really, Aurora thought it could have been over with far quicker than it was, but she was thankful when she left that there weren't too many eyes on her.
In the days that passed over the weekend between the Dragon Importation Vote and the Conditions of Employment (Lycanthropy) Act, Aurora tried to cram in as much schoolwork and studying as possible. Potter, mercifully, had not come up with any more questions to bother her with, and she managed to get through a productive session writing Charms and Transfiguration essays with Blaise, Daphne and Theodore in the library. Draco could be heard in the common room at night loudly discussing the forthcoming vote, and Aurora didn't know how to break it to him that she intended to vote against Umbridge, and therefore the likes of his grandfather Abraxas, and Lords Nott and Selwyn. She wasn't even entirely sure that he was aware of her opinion. Had she not told him herself that she was going to be attending the Assembly, she would have thought he had no idea. In the light of Professor Lupin's reveal last year, werewolves were another hot topic, but Aurora was growing more and more uncomfortable with the way her classmates discussed such things.
Perhaps participating in this vote was not such a good idea after all. But she had to show face and she didn't feel she ought to compromise her own integrity. She was entitled to an opinion and it was her duty to give it.
Because of the intensity of feeling over the bill, the speaking positions at the debate were restricted. Aurora had put in to speak, but was almost relieved to discover that she was not, after all, to be called upon. Harry Potter, however, was, and that gave her, if possible, even more anxiety.
They arrived together, going through the Floo to the grand Ministry atrium and then descending, to the hallway outside the Assembly chamber. Unlike a few days before, it was crowded with people, from Assembly members, to members of the public eager to watch proceedings — for some reason Aurora could not begin to understand, given that if she had the spare time on a Friday afternoon, this would certainly not be her choice of entertainment — to keen-eyed journalists clamouring for their story, their voices echoing and mingling in the high-ceilinged stone corridor. Aurora moved away from Potter as soon as possible, putting on an expression she felt was just correct to show they were not outright allies, but still as civil as any of them had to be to each other. It was worth it when she caught Lord Selwyn looking from by the gilded double doors, and she nodded slowly to him, holding his gaze. He lifted his eyebrows, gaze flicking to Potter and then back to her. Aurora smiled coldly and said to Potter under her breath, "You'll want to speak to Aaron Nightingale. He's heading the campaign against the bill."
"I know," Potter said irritably, "you've told me twice and Hermione's told me three times. I only got here two seconds ago."
She struggled to keep her smile pleasant as she said, "Just go. We'll reconvene before we go in. I've some people I want to see."
"Like who?"
"None of your business, Potter," she said, and gave a curt nod before walking away. She was sure she saw him rolling his eyes, but she had timed it right. The press, who were standing by, had just noticed Potter's arrival outside the courtroom, and started to flood him, just as Aurora made her escape.
Lady Gwyneth Caradas was not difficult to spot. Aurora had already memorised her face, and knew the sort of group she would surround herself with — Malcolm Alpin of Fife, Jacob Morwen of Caerfydden, and the Moderate Karl Griffiths of Devonshire. She found them quickly, but found herself nervous to apparoach, seeing their easy conversation. They all looked like they belonged, while she still felt out of place, like a child playing make-believe. She cast a look back to Potter, though, and the swamp of people around him, and knew she definitely was not going back there.
Her heart was pounding as she approached Lady Caracas's group, feeling the least graceful she ever had, and increasingly aware of her own movements.
To her relief, Lady Caradas spotted her before she would have to go through the ordeal of making herself known. Caradas inclined her head towards Aurora, and she took the cue as the other lords also turned, to walk towards them.
"Lady Caradas," she greeted first with a small bob, "Lord Alpin, Morwen. Griffiths."
"Lady Black." They, like everyone else, appeared both wary and condescending. "Lovely to see you."
"We were just discussing the vote," Caradas said, "myself and Lord Alpin both have been invited to speak."
She smiled, then didn't know what to say other than, "Wonderful."
Stilted silence fell. "I, er — I believe I read your interview for the Daily Prophet, Lady Caradas?" The interview in question had been over her views, which were suspiciously well-guarded and neutral, to the point that Aurora had questioned why she had even given an interview in the first place. "It was... Enlightening."
Still she felt that these were not her words. Even though she was speaking them, she felt wrong, and it seemed the others could pick up on it, too.
"Yes," Caradas said, "you know, I was so curious as to whether or not I would see you. I heard Rita Skeeter wrote a rather intriguing piece in — what was it — Witch Weekly? My niece is a fan," she added by explanation, at the raised eyebrows and amused expressions of the men around her.
"Well," Aurora said, "I didn't ask for... That. I don't see it as relevant to me anything — journalists will say what they want, and I didn't say anything to Skeeter."
"Well." Caradas's smile was intrigued but cold. "I do hope you have made your mind up on today's vote, Lady Black. I think there is a lot we might be able to agree on, you and I."
"Of course," put in Alpin, with a rather pompous huff, "we are very much against the bill. Better to rehabilitate and protect werewolves than to remove them from society, no? That is how monsters like Greyback were made."
It was a relief to hear such words, to affirm her own thoughts. At least she wouldn't be scorned by everyone as she had feared.
"I quite agree," she told Alpin in a rush, to a look of approval from the rest. "The precedent this would set is concerning in and of itself, but you're right. We can't just push werewolves away and block them from taking jobs, and expect everything'll be fine."
"Indeed." Morwen frowned over at her. "You are a student at Hogwarts are you not, Lady Black?" She nodded, and he hummed. "I heard one of your old teachers is a werewolf. How was he?"
"Just as any other teacher," she said crisply, "better, actually. I'm sure most of my class would agree that he was the best Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher we ever had. And that him being forced to leave because of his condition caused great disadvantage to us at the end of our third year."
"Yes," said Griffiths slowly, "well, I heard Harry Potter is attending today, too. I daresay he's in that swarm of journalists. I must speak to him — a Gryffindor, isn't he? Like myself — name gives it away."
It was much to Aurora's annoyance that both Griffiths and Alpin left then, even if she did feel somewhat relieved to have fewer people around her, only Lady Caradas and Lord Morwen. They made only idle chatter after that, occasionally glancing to where the press were hounding various assembly members for comment. Potter looked deeply uncomfortable, and Aurora felt a twinge of sympathy, one which she was sure Caradas picked up on.
Just a few minutes before the assembly began, Potter managed to disentangle himself from the crowd of Progressives that had formed around him, Abbott leading the pride, and came to Aurora's side, where she introduced him quickly to Caradas and Morwen, and the elected members who had joined them — Carrick Bratt and the members for Kent and Sussex, Arnold Cambion and Isabel Ettrin, respectively.
And then, as he whispered to her, "Are you as nervous as me?" the bell sounded to call them to assembly and one by one, they filed in.
The debate was heated as ever. When Potter did eventually get up to speak, from his seat just two down from Aurora. He spoke at length about all the people he knew who thought their old professor should have been allowed to keep his job — something Aurora thought rather unfair, as she did not know if Remus had given Potter permission to speak about him — and dragged up some old arguments against already rejected legislation. His speech gained unwarranted levels of applause from Progressives and Radicals, and sneers and smirks from most everyone else, regardless of position. In truth, Aurora thought she only knew the good points of his argument because he'd already told her them — he was evidently more used to arguing than to properly debating.
She resisted the urge to glare at him across the aisle to stop him from completely putting his foot in it. But at least, she thought, he was saying something.
It didn't matter, in the end.
The vote passed by a wide margin— a ninety-four to forty-six. It was a solemn day, and Aurora couldn't help but feel that her vote had not done enough. Dolores Umbridge looked exceptionally pleased with herself when she left the Assembly, accompanied by Lords Malfoy and Selwyn. Aurora had to stop Potter from mouthing off again when she passed.
"What's done is done," she murmured, placing a halting hand on his arm, seeing the fury lit in his eyes, "don't make a scene."
"How can you be so calm?" he asked, wrenching his arm away from her. "Didn't you hear them all? Jeering? They don't care — they don't care that they're going to ruin lives!"
"I know," she said quietly.
"And you didn't stand up—"
"I was not given the floor. Nor did I wish to make such a spectacle as you did."
His mouth was set in a firm, angry line. "You're a coward," he told her eventually, marching through the hallway.
She hoped he did not repeat that to Lupin. She hoped she could write him first before the news broke properly, to apologise. Because Potter was right, and this wasn't fair, and she resented herself for not being able to control it, even if she had felt already that something like this could be inevitable.
"Bigoted bastards," Ted said when they told him the outcome of the vote, waiting in the Ministry Atrium. They were due back at Hogwarts at five o'clock, in time for dinner, and it was now a quarter past four. Neither Aurora nor Potter looked at each other.
"It wasn't even close," Aurora said, feeling worse. She should have done more, could have done more. But their minds were made up. Selwyn and Umbridge and the rest. It made something angry growl inside of her which she pushed aside.
Potter scowled at the floor.
"The Aurors will be hearing all about it soon enough. You did what you could, though."
Aurora wondered with a twisting guilt if that was true, and felt that it wasn't. She hadn't gotten what she wanted, after all — silence wasn't worth defeat. She was protected by her position, but who was there to protect werewolves now? Who would be there to protect people like her if society turned against muggleborns even more, and against their children?
Dumbledore already seemed to know the outcome when they reached his office. He did, after all, seem to know everything.
"I'm sure the werewolf community appreciates your efforts nonetheless," he said, noticing their dejection. A word rang in Aurora's head which sounded like coward. "This is not the end, I am sure. It is a sad day for our country, and for our morals." She felt her cheeks burn. "I sense you are both most disheartened by our political system. Alas — it does not get easier." That was possibly the least reassuring thing he had ever said. "I fear history will not remember today well. But you did your part. One day, your generation will be able to do great things — if you remember who you are today.
"But!" He forced the change in his tone. "Today, you are still students, and students need dinner! And I'm sure, too, that you have plenty of work to catch up on."
Neither of them were in the mood to follow Dumbledore, who was aggressively cheerful at the best of times. His humour today seemed underlaced with disappointment at the world, and in truth Aurora wasn't sure that a few off-hand comments about lemon drops and knitting patterns could really count as humour.
"How did it go?" Theodore asked, when she slipped into a seat between him and Millicent at the Slytherin Table. Across the hall, Potter was debriefing a furious Granger and Weasley.
"The bill passed," Aurora told him tightly. Lord Nott had voted with Selwyn and Umbridge. "There's a lot still to do." He tilted his head. "You thought Lupin was a good teacher, didn't you?"
"Well, yes," he replied uncomfortably, "he was the best. But he was also a werewolf." She gave her a pointed look and he pursed his lips. "I'm not saying he's a bad person, but it was dangerous for him to be."
She pursed her lips and poured a glass of water, though she didn't feel like eating anything just yet. "There's no denying the danger but I feel — people are uneducated on the subject. And werewolves have been contributing to our society in meaningful ways for years. People believe what they want to believe but..." She trailed off, keenly aware of the other eyes on them at that moment, of the ears listening out. She constructed the next sentence carefully. "It seems to be rooted more in prejudice and preconception than true evidence that there are higher attack rates for businesses with werewolves in employ." Pansy seemed to consider this for a brief second, across the table, before Draco and Blaise sneered and she copied them. Daphne and Lucille pointedly pursues their own conversation, but Millie was listening in, too. "I felt much safer in a classroom with Lupin than I do with Moody at any rate. Don't you?"
She was in the correct company for that statement, at least. They all were, to some degree, targets of Moody's constant suspicion and paranoia. It did not do enough. She felt she should have done more, and should have done it earlier, when it mattered — but the older generation had made their minds up already. Their own counterparts had made similar points, that they needed harder evidence. Carrick Bratt had raised anonymous anecdotes from werewolves of Cornwall and their colleagues who vouched for them. It didn't change the result.
One day, Aurora thought — with Remus in her mind, his kindness and his intelligence and his way of teaching that drew in every single student — she would.
-*
The students from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang were due to arrive at Hogwarts on the thirtieth of October, and the elder Slytherins swore up and down the place that they had better not interfere with their plans for initiation like every other year had. Aurora pestered Cassius for his 'top-secret' information about the plans, and she was fairly certain he was going to break soon and tell her. He did make many remarks about how persuasive she was, and she decided she would rather like to be known as persuasive.
His birthday passed on the sixteenth, which led to a highly amusing night of observing the common room revelries. "No one was like this last year," Draco said, glaring at the knot of tipsy sixth years, "were they?"
"I wouldn't know," Aurora said, breezily enough, but Draco still frowned at her. "But I think everyone's mostly excited because he's going to apply for the tournament, and we might just get a Slytherin champion." It was a lovely thought, even if she still would rather have liked to have that opportunity herself. Maybe, though, this year could be a simpler year.
"And are you excited?" Pansy asked in her teasing voice from Aurora's other side.
"Why would I be excited, Pansy?"
Pansy giggled. "Because you keep talking to him. Like, every day."
A smile pulled at her but she pushed it away. "Because I want to know what they're planning for initiation, Pansy. I'm hunting for information."
Theodore and Blaise gave identical snorts. "Yeah, right," Blaise said, "you're more likely to threaten him."
"And what would you like me to threaten you with, Blaise?" She fixed him with a cold look across the sofas. Gwen laughed, exchanging a wry smile with Robin. "Poison's always fun."
"Mhm, so I've heard — maybe you should exchange notes with my mother." She glared at him, and he did not seem to realise. Daphne, however, seemed greatly amused, giggling to Lucille.
Aurora rolled her eyes and sank down into the sofa, her knees knocking against Pansy's. "I'll wait until he's had one more," she said to Pansy, "then he'll tell me what they're planning."
"And I'm on stand-by," Millicent put in, grinning, "to sneak attack Drina."
The two clasped hands, united in their mischief. There was a certain comfort in the irrelevance of the matter — there was nothing at stake but personal satisfaction if she did not manage to succeed in discovering what was planned for the first years' initiation. It made her feel just that bit more carefree.
"I'll bet I can get it out of Cassius quicker than you can get it out of Drina."
"That isn't fair," Millicent sighed, drawing her hand back with a dramatic sigh, "she's the most annoying sister ever. She'll purposefully not tell me anything just because it annoys me."
Pansy snickered. "I'll bet on Aurora too," she said with a wink.
Sighing, Aurora turned to Draco, who was shaking his head at them. "Gambling," he said with faux disapproval, "right in front of the third years."
"Oh, they're fine," Pansy scoffed, gesturing to Hestia and Flora Carrow who were chatting to Daphne and Lucille about Twilfitt and Taffling's new Winter collection. Aurora caught the smile, though, when she met Draco's eyes. Still, it was sad to see it droop — his own smile was just visible from her perspective, but it too fell after a moment.
She turned to eye Cassius again, his blond hair lit by the amber lights behind him. He was laughing merrily with Graham and some of the other boys in his year, and raised his eyebrows when he spotted Aurora looking over at him. Heat rose to her cheeks and she gave a small wave before turning around again, hearing laughs ripple around him and then Draco and Pansy's snickers.
"Both of you, stop that right now," she scolded. Pansy just laughed more and rested her head on Aurora's shoulder, grinning.
Fifteen minutes later, she had cornered Cassius and Millicent had cornered Drina. She could catch snippets of the girls' conversation and Millicent's roundabout way of getting her sister to ramble in annoyance more than anything else, but was also more preoccupied with Cassius's account of Mad-Eye Moody's first Duelling lesson.
"He's totally nuts," he was saying, grinning as he leaned against the wall. "We were all trying to have a normal class, but then those Weasley twins — look, normally they're not that bad unless they're trying to whack me in the face with a Bludger — but they'd brought in these fake wands. One of them had managed to swap Angelina Johnson's wand with that one, so she tries to curse me, and it just—" He made a wide, annoyed gesture "—sprouts feathers!" Aurora laughed. "I didn't know what to do, obviously, so I just stood there. She didn't know what was going on either, but she did throw it at Fred Weasley's head.
"Moody was going off his head but I think he was trying not to find it funny. He kept going on about how we needed to be vigilant and stop fooling about and take things seriously but — I mean, everyone knows the Weasley twins."
She nodded, pursing her lips in a look of sympathy. "Did you get anything constructive done?"
"Once they'd stopped laughing and realised Moody was gonna hex them if they didn't take it seriously, yeah." Aurora smiled at that. "I did get a decent jinx in at Diggory. Drina was devastated."
"Why?" A smile pulled at her and she had to remind herself of her mission. "What did you do to him?"
"Made flowers bloom out his nostrils."
"That is disgusting."
Cassius laughed loudly, warmly. "Stop him casting though. He's got pollen allergies, kept sneezing."
"How creative of you," Aurora laughed, "don't you know any better curses?"
Winking, he said, "I want to save my best moves for the tournament."
Aurora raised her eyebrows — here was her in. "Speaking of." She sidled slightly closer. "I take it you're putting your name as soon as it opens."
"Absolutely." He grinned. "Flitwick hinted applications were opening on the thirtieth, and we'd have twenty-four hours."
"Halloween, then?" She raised her eyebrows and he caught the insinuation. "I suppose we'll have to prepare for an extra extravagant party."
"Good to know you have such faith in me, Aurora."
Aurora scoffed, rolled her eyes. "Well, it isn't going to be a Gryffindor, is it? They would all be far too pleased with themselves. But I'm sure everyone will be completely run off their feet, what with organising the initiation."
Cassius smirked down at her. "See now I know what this is about."
Playing coy, she pouted and asked, "What is this about, then?"
"You want to know what we're doing for initiation."
"Oh, but I would never dream of accosting you, Cassius." She grinned up at him, and moved so that their shoulders were just touching, side by side against the wall. It was warm where they touched, which came as a surprise even though it shouldn't, and Aurora pushed that thought away, focusing. She had a mission, after all, and a bet to win. "I promise I won't tell," she teased, batting her eyelashes, and thought she saw pink tinge his cheeks as he grinned. Perhaps that was wishful thinking, though she didn't want to dwell on what it might mean if it was. "What's the worst that can happen if you tell me? I'm trustworthy, aren't I?"
Cassius snorted. "You know, I heard a rumour you set off Dungbombs outside Lupin's classroom last term."
She hid her annoyance — which idiot had let that slip, was it a Weasley twin — in favour of grinning at him, bumping his shoulder again. "I don't know where you hear such things, but really the fact that it's only a rumour and not confirmed fact proves that I'm good at keeping secrets." She raised her eyebrows, pouting slightly. "Come on, Cassius. We're teammates, aren't we?"
"Technically, there is no team this year."
"Technically," she drawled, "you have no reason not to tell me."
"Other than tradition." He grinned, taking another long drink, and bumped her shoulder again, sending slight shivers through her. "And the fact I know Millicent is over there convincing Drina too. You're not all as sly as you think."
"Ah, But I haven't unveiled my master plan," Aurora said, and he frowned. A small laugh escaped his chest.
"What's your master plan then, Black?"
"Like I'm going to tell you." She rolled her eyes and made like she was going to leave, but Cassius put a hand upon hers and she froze. "Nothing nefarious, I assure you."
"I'll tell you," he said, hand tightening around hers in a way that was almost nice, if she allowed herself to think that way. Heart thudding, Aurora turned, and stared at him, his wide eyes, his knowing smirk. She drew closer, suddenly aware of his warm skin against hers and the fact that his eyes did look rather nice, and that she was getting far too distracted right now.
"Will you really?"
"If," he added, voice slightly lower now. Heat rose to her cheeks and Aurora was certain that, if she were to look back at her friends right now, she would find Pansy smirking at her. "If, you don't tell anyone else. And." He tugged her gently closer, still with that foolish grin on his face. "If you help with smuggling the firewhisky."
Her mouth felt suddenly dry, but she managed to say, "And why — why would I engage in such activity?"
Cassius smirked. "Bit of fun, isn't it? And clearly you're getting rather good at sneaking about."
"And is that why you talk to me?" she asked, hoping she was retaining some control over the conversation if not over the volume her stupid heart managed to beat at. "My sneaking abilities?"
"They certainly don't go amiss." He smirked. "Do we have a deal? You tell me how you got to sneak around last year, help us get to Hogsmeade, and I'll tell you what we've got planned."
"Alright," she said, "but you have to extend the drinking rules to myself if I assist in acquiring the firewhisky." Assist in acquiring... Merlin, why was she speaking like a fool? "Otherwise it is completely unfair."
"You're fifteen anyway." He shrugged. "Just don't tell Miss Head Girl, or she'll have my head."
"Promise," she said, and then Cassius drew her closer still so that he could whisper the plans. She struggled to focus on his words rather than the proximity of their two bodies, and the feeling of his breath against the side of her neck.
"First task is to take something from the Potions supply cupboard — the rarer the ingredients are, the better Snape guards them, and the more respect the student's get.
"Second task, they have to locate a snake in a tapestry on the seventh floor, mark it on a map, and receive a clue from the person in the tapestry. The tapestry's of Morgana," he added, "so it should add up to them eventually. That clue tells them the third task, which is to work in groups to create a communication device that works from one end of Slytherin territory to the other."
He stepped back, and Aurora caught his eye. He looked rather pleased with himself, and the smug look was somehow — well, she wasn't going to think about how he looked. "Teamwork?" she tried to say, feeling flustered. Ridiculous, she scolded herself, only to feel even more flustered when she inadvertently caught Pansy's eye across the common room.
Cassius shrugged. "We thought it fit with the theme of the year — the whole international collaboration they're trying to push? Plus, we've observed that group and they're awful."
Aurora thought back to the constant jostling and arguing that took place among the crowds of first years in the common room every night, vying for the best seats or else just for attention. Even her group, though they still had their noticeable divisions, didn't argue as they did. "Some teamwork could do them some good," she admitted. "Or it could cause them to tear each other apart trying it."
"All the more entertaining for us then," Cassius said in a sing-song voice that fell slightly flat at the end. "We're still split on whether to let them figure out the teams thing on their own or to force them into little groups."
"If you leave them to do it themselves," she said, "they won't do it. Or they'll just stick to their own clique." Her year had been much the same — still was, to an extent.
"That's what I think," Cassius agreed, "but it isn't really my decision, so." He shrugged, then glanced over to Drina Bulstrode, who was glaring at Millicent. "Honestly, I think we should all just be more worried about what's going to go wrong. Like, getting them to walk about the castle is seriously wishful thinking. What if one of the Durmstrang kids unexpectedly turns out to, I don't know... Sleep walk with a knife or something?"
"That would be a very specific form of sleep-walking," she said, putting some distance between them and feeling slightly more at ease. "But also very unfortunate."
"Knowing our bloody luck," Cassius said, "something'll go on fire when they announce the champions. Maybe a dragon'll crash into the Great Hall or something."
"At least there's very little chance of a dragon getting into the dungeons," she pointed out, and Cassius grinned.
"Dunno, they let Snape down here and he's half-bat."
Aurora let out a very unladylike laugh, then bit it back. "I'd love to see you tell him that."
"Oh, I'd love to see a first year tell him that. Maybe I should add that to the plan — oi, Graham—"
Graham Montague had materialised at precisely the wrong moment, leaning against Cassius's shoulder and staring down at Aurora. "Black," he said, voice slurring, "nice of you to join the celebrations."
"Nice of you to save the rest of us the trouble of getting drunk," she drawled back, and he cracked a grin.
"Eh, this tournament's bloody stupid, isn't it?" She nodded. "I can't even bloody take part, not of age 'til March — bollocks. Listen, Black." He took on the air of a child trying to play at dictator. "I say bollocks to this. Illegal Quidditch, what do you say? They can't stop us using the pitch, even if this bastard's too busy to join in—" Cassius kicked him in the shin and he yelped. "—one of us is gonna be captain next year and we don't want a lazy team."
"Is this your way of inviting me to be Chaser?"
"Absolutely not." He pulled a face but it seemed half-hearted. "But — Quidditch. God's blessing to wizardkind, bloody Dumbledore doesn't have the right to stop us. It's our right!"
She raised her eyebrows, trying not to laugh. It was clear Cassius was struggling to do the same as Graham clapped him on the shoulder. When their eyes met, holding in laughter became all the more difficult. "C'mon, Black — Aurora." He stumbled over her name and, she thought, thoroughly ruined it. "We could go right now."
"I don't think playing Quidditch at this time of night is a great idea, mate," Cassius said, while Aurora pressed her lips together to keep from laughing.
"Or with you in this state," she put in.
"What d'you mean?" He stood up straight, looking offended. "I'm bloody fantastic, Black!"
"Course you are," Cassius said, laughing and taking him firmly by the shoulders. "How's about we get you some cake?"
"Can't have cake before flying, Warrington, are you bloody daft?"
"I heard it's the top tip now," Aurora said, grinning at Cassius, her sudden partner in combating drunken pests. "Read it in Quidditch Quarterly."
"See?" Cassius said. "Aurora's right."
"Well," Montague muttered, rolling his eyes, "if Black says it's so..."
He shook his head and Cassius flushed, pulling an apologetic face as they moved off towards the table where the chocolate cake had been set. Smiling to herself, and trying to avoid the warm, fluttery feeling inside of her chest, Aurora flounced back over to her friends, avoided Pansy's knowing look and said, "Blaise, you were wrong. I didn't have to threaten him even once. And I got firewhisky out of it."
Blaise scowled, and Pansy and Draco both laughed loudly, arms nudging against hers. Millicent trotted over a moment later, looking not nearly as happy as Aurora was. "Drina told me to bugger off."
Aurora waved a hand, and dragged Millicent down to squash between herself and Pansy. "Just as well Cassius told me everything then." She smirked as everyone leaned forward. "But, tragically, I'm sworn to secrecy."
She told them anyway, only just enough to get away with hiding the full truth. It was better than dwelling on Pansy's look when she asked why, exactly, Cassius Warrington had been standing so close to her.
Author's Note: Sorry this took a bit longer than usual! I've been swamped with various issues recently, and then got hit with a nasty cold (not covid, but still horrid) which wiped me out for a week or so. But I'm feeling better now, and I hope you enjoy. This marks the end of this mini-arc for Aurora's character and the beginning of things to unfold in the future. But the tournament is just around the corner. I'm curious as to what you all think is going to happen, and if anyone manages to predict it right. Let me know your thoughts!