The year's first Hogsmeade trip came that next weekend, a brisk November morning two days before the first task of the Triwizard Tournament. An article had appeared in the Daily Prophet a day prior, an exclusive feature on the three Triwizard Champions, with considerable emphasis on Viktor Krum and not nearly enough — in Aurora's opinion — on Cedric Diggory, who by rights should have had the biggest feature as the Hogwarts representative. Still, the article was written by Rita Skeeter, whom Aurora had held a considerable dislike for ever since she ran a story about her last year.

It was odd to consider, as she walked down towards the village with her friends, just how much everything had changed since then. For one thing, she felt far freer now. She could smile and talk freely, and while the world still was changing around her, it didn't always feel quite so overwhelming, and she didn't always feel quite so helpless. Because she wasn't and she knew that now — and she knew, perhaps most importantly, that she wasn't entirely alone. It was a most wonderful feeling, one which she tried to carry with her into Hogsmeade village.

Her father had written a week earlier to try and organise for them to meet up in the village, unfortunately with Potter included. But Aurora had made plans too, and it seemed her father wanted to be able to see them both together, so for now they were holding off. In some ways that was a relief, that she didn't have to worry about how to act between them both, but there was a part of her that just wanted to be able to see him, anytime she wanted, a part that felt she deserved that after all this time. And she wished that she could just see him herself, without Potter involved. She knew it was selfish, but she didn't care. Twelve years without her father, she felt, had given her a right to be selfish.

But that day she had a very different group of family members to meet with. She was due to meet Callidora Longbottom at half past twelve in the Three Broomsticks, along with Marius Black and Cedrella Weasley. All three either disowned or distanced, all three far older than her and practically strangers. They would have been perhaps a decade younger than her great-grandfather Arcturus, but barring one Christmas many years ago which she and Draco had managed to vaguely recall Callidora attending, she had never met any them. Family didn't quite seem an apt descriptor, and she was nervous to even think of them, uncertain of what they expected from her.

Aurora took her time with her friends, looking in the dress and jewellery shops — Pansy wanted a new pair of winter boots, and took the better part of an hour to decide on the grey suede pair Aurora had recommended — but by twenty past, she could no longer delay the inevitable. Draco, Pansy, Vincent, and Greg went to the Three Broomsticks with her, promising to make a 'completely unplanned' intervention if she gave them a signal, but it didn't manage to ease her nerves too much.

"You're sure you don't want me to sit with you?" Draco asked as they entered, looking around the too-crowded pub for anyone who looked like they might resemble a member of their family. "It would still make sense for me to be there."

"I'm sure," she said, ignoring the knot of nerves as she peered around. "I need to figure out what they want first before I bring you into the picture."

"You know I wouldn't mind—"

"I know," Aurora told him mildly, "but I'm sure I will be fine, Draco. And if not, you'll know."

Her cousin still looked uneasy, but he seemed to realise that she wasn't going to budge on this, and resolved to help her and Pansy look for someone that might be them. "There's three people in that booth over there," Pansy said eventually, pointing to a space near the centre of the wall, which was occupied by two elderly witches and a man with grey hair who stared around the place like he had never seen it before. Perhaps he hadn't, Aurora thought. Marius Black was a squib, after all. Nerves caught her again, but one of the women had seen her, and Aurora could tell by the look in her eye that she was indeed Callidora.

"Yes," Aurora said quietly, "I do believe we've found the rogue Blacks."

Draco winced and clapped her on the shoulder in solidarity. "The table opposite's free. We'll grab it. Crabbe, Goyle."

Vincent and Greg jumped to attention and hurried off to nab the table and its four seats, glowering at anyone who looked like they might want to steal it. "And you're sure—"

"I'll be perfectly fine, Draco," Aurora said in a clipped voice. She glanced at Pansy, whose eyes were just as worried. "I can look after myself, you know."

"We know," Pansy said, rolling her eyes. "Come on, Draco, before the boys start scaring third years."

Aurora shot her a grateful look as she tugged Draco away, leaving her to steady herself, take a deep breath, and head towards the table of three.

They all stood when she grew closer, and one of the women said quietly, "Lady Black," while the other two regarded her with ill-concealed wariness. She supposed she couldn't blame them — the two who hadn't spoken she presumed were Marius and Cedrella.

"Hello," she said, sounding stupid to her own ears. Surely this situation did not call for a greeting so common as a simple hello. "Aurora. Pleasure to meet you all. Marius, I presume?" she asked, turning to the man, who nodded. There was a strange glimmer about his eyes — more blue than the usual grey — and she noticed that he held a cane, struggling far more than either of the witches.

"Callidora Longbottom," said the woman who had first greeted Aurora, holding out her hand. She was taller than Cedrella, with high cheekbones, stormy eyes, and hair that was only halfway coloured with black, streaked with grey. "I believe you have grown since we last met."

"Yes," Aurora said with a stilted laugh, accepting her cold hand. "Draco and I conferred, I must have been no more than seven that Christmas."

"Oh, yes," Callidora said, with a smile, "is that Draco you came in with?"

"He certainly looks like a Malfoy," Cedrella said, her voice a touch colder than Aurora would have liked. Of course, considering that she had married into the Weasleys — the reason for her subsequent disownment — this did not come as much of a surprise. "Cedrella Weasley," she introduced herself, as if Aurora hadn't guessed already. She offered her hand just as Callidora had, but Aurora felt the gesture was far less friendly.

"Pleasure," Aurora said, before gesturing to the seats. "Shall we?"

Marius already had some rather weak looking drink, but neither Cedrella nor Callidora had yet gotten themselves anything. But no one said anything about refreshments as she eased into the seat next to Callidora. All of them were approaching eighty, and though it showed more on Marius than the witches, their movements were slightly stiff, various joints making noises as they sat. Aurora tried hard not to wince, and glanced across the pub to see Draco looking at her questioningly. She sent a tight smile back, and then turned to the table. They all were looking at her too, and she got the feeling that she was some sort of zoo animal, or a specimen to be inspected.

Marius coughed to break the silence. Aurora already regretted having agreed to this.

"So, I imagine the last year or so has been rather turbulent," he said, grimacing.

"You could say that," she said, tilting her head. "It has certainly been full of surprises. Not least receiving a letter from Callidora. I have to admit it was unexpected. Not only to hear from you, but to find out that you were still in contact with your cousins."

All three cousins exchanged a glance, indecipherable to Aurora, but which reminded her strongly of herself and Draco. Callidora said, "Truthfully, that letter was much more my idea than Marius or Cedrella's. I had intended to leave you quite alone unless you took it upon yourself to get in touch. As you say, we met only once — I've always preferred to keep to myself, particularly after my husband's passing."

"I'm sorry," Aurora said on instinct, but Callidora waved a hand.

"No need. It was many years ago, and there was little love lost in that marriage. No, I cannot say that I had intended to contact you. Until last June. Seeing all of the news about young Sirius, and of course you were implicated. We didn't know which way the tide would go, but it appears it has swept us back together." Aurora thought Callidora might be attributing rather too much agency to 'the tide' considering she had very much made a decision to get in touch or not, but this was not the moment to point out such things.

"And have you three only recently reunited?"

"Oh, heavens, no," Cedrella laughed. "No, well. Marius was always Cally and I's favourite cousin when we were children. When he was older, of course, everything changed, but we were close enough in age that we missed him. Cally was the good child, and the eldest. She married the Longbottom boy on our father's request at eighteen. I was not so easy."

"She was a terror from birth, actually," Marius out in with a fond smile. "I don't know why anything thought something like a husband could contain her."

To Aurora's surprise, Cedrella and Callidora found this amusing, for they both laughed. "Well, my parents had arranged a marriage for me, to an Avery, ten years my senior and rather ghastly if I do say so. But my heart was set on another. I'm sure it is a typically enough story, but Septimus and I kept up contact for years after Hogwarts. And once marriage was on the horizon, well." She smiled faintly. "If I were to have a husband I knew that I was not going to let anybody else choose him for me. So I ran off with Septimus, Callidora covered for me, and we got eloped. It was quite the scandal, I must say. The family disowned me, cut all ties, except for Callidora."

"Well, I could hardly ignore my own sister," Callidora said, tutting. "Charis was far too content to do so. I don't suppose you would ever have met her, I imagine she passed before you were born. And at any rate, the Longbottoms and the Weasleys were hardly enemies. It was an easy enough guise to keep up — the presence that we only interacted for the sake of familial pleasantries, not for the sake of sisterhood. At that time, I still cared deeply about living up to expectation. Carrying on the line, keeping family secrets, ensuring our social position." Aurora shifted uncomfortably. The glint in Callidora's eye told her that this woman no longer cared for such things — but Aurora very much did. "Then when I was twenty-five, and Cedrella twenty-three, our aunt Violetta passed. We helped to look into the records, Charis and I.

"You see, when Marius was ten, we were told that he had died of dragon pox."

She said it so bluntly that it startled Aurora. Like it was nothing — though she supposed it was, considering that the man opposite her seemed very much alive. "Oh."

"Yet, when we looked through the records, we found no record of death. All we could find was an address of a Muggle orphanage in London."

"I am a squib, you see," Marius said, with a wry smile. "Rather unfortunate thing to be, especially in those days. I was the shame of the family. The rotten apple hanging on the tree. I had only the faintest memories of my old life, before my parents realised I was never going to do magic. I had convinced myself that it was all made up, inside my head. Until Cally and Cedrella managed to track me down through parish records and the orphanage. Very much alive, twenty four years of age, with a wife, and a child on the way. The truth took rather a lot of explaining, needless to say, and a lot of piecing together. I still have never seen my Victoria more shocked in all her life."

Aurora smiled faintly. "Your wife? Is she a Muggle, then?"

Marius nodded. "About as Muggle as they come." His eyes sparkled. "She was right confused by the whole thing, I must say. I hadn't told her about my childhood of course. I half believed myself mad, and knew she wouldn't believe me anyway. And it was no longer my world. It's been years since I have been around so many magical folks. The last time, must have been my sister's funeral."

Aurora blinked at him. "Aunt Cassiopeia?"

Marius shook his head as the two witches exchanged strained looks. "No, no. Cassiopeia had no interest in me, and she made it clear, right enough." That made cold run up Aurora's spine. What would they all think of her now, surrounded only by the family's blood traitors and deserters? Nothing good, she imagined. She looked over to Draco, but he was talking to Pansy and hadn't yet noticed her sudden discomfort. "It was Dorea." Her attention snapped back to Marius. "She married into a much more liberal family than our own, though thankfully not the quite the Weasleys." Cedrella rolled her eyes, but it was a fond gesture, not truly irritated. "She married Charlus Potter. If I've got it right, his brother Fleamont would be the grandad of Harry Potter."

"Right enough," Aurora said faintly, resisting the urge to look around for Potter himself. "And you and Dorea stayed in touch, too?"

"Somewhat." He shrugged. "Cedrella and Cally didn't really know what to do with me once they'd found me."

"Yes," Callidora put in, pursing her lips, "and then he disappeared for four years to fight in a war, which did not help matters."

Shaking his head, Marius said, "It was only right thing to do. But I kept in touch, didn't I? Once I came back, my little girl was already five years old, and I hardly knew her. I still had to adjust, to yet another new world. Dorea and I didn't meet again until my second child was born. I hadn't actually expected her to show up to the Christening, but she did."

"Caused quite a stir, too," Cedrella said, smiling. "She turned up in full robes, all lace and everything, which did not go down particularly well with the muggles in attendance."

"I see." Stilted silence hung in the air for a moment. It seemed no one else knew where to take the conversation. "Well. I hope you don't mind my asking, but I presume you didn't reach out only to tell me stories?"

There was a touch of amusement to Callidora's smile. Aurora noticed it with an uncomfortable shiver. "You can tell you were raised by Arcturus," she said, which was not what Aurora had expected at all. She blinked in surprise as the words registered, and fought a smile. "You speak rather like he did when he was annoyed."

"Which was often, with us," Cedrella said. Aurora thought this was probably an attempt at a good-natured joke, but she didn't find it amusing. She didn't know any of them well enough to find it amusing, and she didn't like, either, the feeling of not having known that, of never having known what Arcturus's relationship with these three younger cousins had been.

"But," Marius said, "to get to the point, yeah, we aren't just here to reminisce. Truth be told, I've been wondering for a long while about the family. For years, actually. When I was younger I had wanted to reunite with them, until I became resentful, realising I wouldn't be accepted anyway, not by most of them. But Cally told me about you, and about your father, and cousin Andromeda, and we couldn't help but wonder... Well, you're a kid with a lot of power. We're curious."

"You're curious about what I can do for you," Aurora said bluntly, looking between them. No one denied it. "Look, I'm happy to meet you. I didn't know anything about you, really, until recently, and I think my father might like to hear from you, more than I would. But if you'd just tell me what you want, I'd appreciate it."

It was blunter — some might say ruder — than the way she would normally interact with adults, but they had nothing over her in rank, only the most tenuous of familial authority which felt like nothing in the wake of her own position. Callidora again looked like she was trying not to laugh. She did a better job of it than Marius, who grinned, and Cedrella, who outright smirked.

"I admit I was curious," Cedrella said, "as to your politics. Especially after the Werewolf Employment Act was just put through... Your vote reached us, you know. It appeared to have been rather controversial." At that, Aurora flushed, but Marius spared her from having to reply.

"I thought you might be more open to talking to us now. We had no idea what your political opinions might be, but the fact you're even here talking to me says a lot." She tried desperately to avoid looking over at Draco as she so felt she needed to.

It felt so strange, then almost cornering her like this. She had no idea of their intentions, everything seemed muddled, and at any rate, she didn't understand what she could even do for them. That they had distanced themselves from the family suggested that they wouldn't want to rejoin now — though she supposed she couldn't be sure — but she didn't enjoy their hesitance.

Eventually, though, when she looked at them long enough to make it uncomfortable, Marius said, "When I was a kid, I heard all these stories about Hogwarts, all my siblings and cousins off doing magic. And I suppose I knew from a point that I was different. I couldn't do it. I never got to experience what all my family did." She nodded slowly, wondering why he felt the need to go over this all again, and if he thought her dim. "But there... Well, there are stories that allege muggleborn children have to come from a magical ancestor, to carry the gene which allows them to have magic." She felt herself warm uncomfortably. "There've never been enough studies to prove it or nothing but... My granddaughter, Elise, is ten." Her heart thudded in her chest. "And she — well, she doesn't seem to be a normal muggle child. I saw it early on, outbursts of accidental magic, 'cause I'd recognised it in my siblings. And then Cally and Cedrella confirmed it. Elise is, we're fairly certain, a witch."

Despite some part of her having anticipated it, Marius's words took some time to properly sink in, her head instead filled with a confused buzzing. She blinked, as though that would help her to suddenly understand what to say in response to this revelation which had just been — rather unfairly in her opinion — dumped upon her.

"Right." She looked away to the table where her friends were sitting, and Draco caught her eye, but there was no expression she could make that she felt would adequately convey the thoughts going through her head. "I see."

A silence lingered, insulating them from the rest of the pub. Any words got stuck in Aurora's throat. This was so outside anything she had been prepared to deal with as the head of the family — not that she had felt prepared for very much — that it stopped her short for a moment. Then, she managed to say, "And what do you want me to do?"

She hoped her tone had not come across as rude, but they all seemed to have some expectation of what she might say and she didn't understand what that was. Their expressions at least didn't betray any annoyance at her choice of words. "If she does receive an invitation to Hogwarts," Marius said, "then she'll be joining next year. I think we're all very aware of the position that a Muggleborn girl is in anyway, but I also think she could do with someone to talk to about it."

She stared blankly at him. "Well, I can't now. Not unless her status is confirmed."

"I know," Marius was quick to say, "but it is very clear to us that she's a witch. So I thought, I'd like, if it's possible, for her to be able to know you. My cousins were always so important to me, and I know how lonely it can be stepping into a totally different world."

But that all sounded dangerous to her. Helping these people she didn't even know, that was a commitment she could not make, especially in a sensitive matter, when they did not yet have confirmation about Marius's granddaughter. And besides, there was still a part of her that wondered why they could think they had the right to ask. Why they thought it necessary.

Callidora met her eyes, and there was a curious gleam in her gaze. She was assessing her answer, Aurora realized. This was all a part of her trying to size her up, see where she might stand in the family now, what influence she could gain now that things had changed. That look made her itch, a strangely hot and uncomfortable feeling slipping under her skin now she could feel the scrutiny upon her and wondered why she had ever agreed to this.

But she was as curious as they were.

"I... Would not be opposed," Aurora said as diplomatically as she could, "of course, once she does receive a letter, I'd help integrate her as much as I could. Is her surname Black, too?" Marius nodded and in some ways it was a relief. There would have been questions anyway. This way she could manage it, somewhat, in whatever form that management may take. Still, she remained suspicious of the three clustered around her, their expectant eyes and their curiosity. "It really depends, though," she added, "on the situation and what she's comfortable with..." She trailed off. This girl was family by the loose blood definition of the word, and she wasn't entirely certain of how much that relation ought to mean. Not when Marius had been disowned, not when her family — her grandmother and great-grandfather and aunt — wouldn't see them that way.

But her new family, she thought — Andromeda and Ted and Dora and her dad — would. Or they might, anyway.

She gave a tense smile.

Callidora said softly, "Of course, we don't only ask favours from you, Aurora. Elise is a very nice girl, and I think you would get along well—" Aurora did not know how Callidora had possibly come to that conclusion after knowing her for all of fifteen minutes "—but I suspect you have your own worries, too." She said nothing, waiting for Callidora to reveal what she meant. She did so with a thin smile, and after receiving a warning look from her sister. "I still have many contacts in rather high social positions. Ever since our cousin Arcturus passed—" Aurora didn't like the use of 'our' as if Callidora were claiming Arcturus for the three of them "—there have been rumours about the House of Black... struggling. This isn't your fault," she said quickly, "you can't help your age." It felt insulting anyway. "It is my understanding that you are Head of the House alone, yes?" She nodded, withholding a glare. "There is much about the family that I doubt you know yet, Aurora. So many secrets that even Sirius and Andromeda were not told... I don't want to patronise you, but you are dealing with much more than you realise.

"I know what it is to be a young girl out of her depth." Aurora bristled, and did not understand how Callidora did not anticipate that. "I know you are even if you don't want to see it. But I can help you."

"Why?" she asked. "You don't know me. You have made no effort to help me before now."

"I did not think you would respond well, until I found out your relationship with Andromeda—"

"What would you do?" She raised her eyebrows, frustrated by what she saw as the insincerity of Callidora's words. Cedrella, perhaps the most interesting to her, was oddly quiet, and Marius seemed to give way so easily to Callidora, too. "To 'help' as you say. What does that mean — what do you think I need your help with?"

There was a light in Callidora's eyes as she traded amused glances with Cedrella and then Marius, the sort that made Aurora cold from feeling left out, unknowing. Callidora leaned closer across the table. "First of all, your credibility. You're a child in the Legislating Assembly. Your name can only get you so far.

"And second... Your history." Aurora frowned. "I know the Black family doesn't share all of its secrets, not until one reaches a certain age. The family curse, the family magic... The secret to survival over a thousand years." She leaned in closer as she spoke, her eyes wide, her voice high, curious. It sent a shiver down her spine and gave her that too-familiar feeling of being ill-fitted for her skin, like Callidora's gaze was peeling her appearance away. "I know you have questions. Questions no one wants to answer. About your childhood, about our family's past... About your Uncle Regulus."

That name sent alarm bells ringing in Aurora's mind, set her heart racing. She tilted her head, trying to remain calm. "What about my Uncle Regulus?"

Callidora smiled. Cedrella wrung her hands together atop the table, looking nervously to Marius, whose gaze was trained firmly on his own feet.

"I'm sure you want to know what happened to him."

"I do. He — he was murdered." She looked for Draco then, caught his eye across the pub with a furtive, pleading look. It was fleeting but she knew he got the message.

Callidora seemed to get it, too. "They never found a body," she whispered to Aurora, "and I happen to have been told some things by Arcturus. The boy could never be buried. His soul could not depart the earth." She raised her eyebrows.

"Cally," Cedrella murmured, "you're scaring her. Stop it."

Aurora wanted to bite back that she wasn't scared, but couldn't. But this wasn't fear. This was something more overwhelming, more disorienting and nauseating.

"The people you grew up with only told you one half of a story," Callidora said softly, "the ones you call family now can't tell you the rest. But I can. And I want to, Aurora."

Her final smile was frightening. "We're family, after all."

"What happened to my Uncle Regulus?" Aurora demanded, seeing Draco and her friends start to make their way over.

"No one knows." Callidora shook her head, and Aurora hated to realise that she was genuinely remorseful. "But I do know that Arcturus was the last person to see him alive. As far as we know."

"Aurora."

Draco's voice cut through the buzzing that had started up in Aurora's head. She looked up sharply.

"We wanted to go soon," he said, his gaze cutting over the three adults assembled around her. He had taken on a strange expression as he looked at them, nose upturned, haughty and cold. "Are you coming with?"

She shot a faux-apologetic look to Marius and Cedrella, but a second later, Callidora said, "You're the Malfoy boy."

Draco stiffened. "Yes."

"I remember you as a toddler." She sniffed. "How lovely that you and Lady Black remain... Friends?"

Behind Draco, Pansy raised her eyebrows at Aurora in subtle question.

"I probably should be on my way soon," Aurora said evasively, "I have other people to meet." The wording was a way to make herself sound more important but they seemed amused more than anything else. "But I will... Consider your offer," she told Callidora, even feeling that prickling unease beneath her skin. "And yours," she added to Marius. Her gaze lingered over Cedrella, who smiled in an unexpectedly warm manner, though her gaze seemed intent on avoiding Aurora's friends gathered at the edge of the table. "I'm sorry." She wasn't entirely sure where those words had come from. "Was there anything else?"

Cedrella folded her hands and shook her head. Her gaze still followed her intently, though. Callidora pursed her lips, but it was Marius who spoke.

"I'm sorry if this was all rather out of the blue." She smiled faintly. "I know it's probably a lot. But we're glad to have met you."

"Right."

"And please... Do think about what we've said."

Aurora nodded. "Of course," she told him, making to stand up, slightly uneasy on her feet. She could not miss the way Callidora's gaze snapped between her and Draco, almost in amusement. "Thank you, all of you. It was nice to meet you."

Their returning smiles were unconvincing, but they remained polite as they uttered goodbyes, as Aurora walked out of the pub with them into the cold, crisp street. Only once they had bid their goodbyes and made their way away could she breathe a sigh of relief and turn to her friends.

"Well?" Draco asked, arching an eyebrow. "What did they want?"

"Salazar knows," she muttered, walking in the opposite direction from the three. Her friends followed her quickly, Draco and Pansy either side of her and Greg and Vincent just behind. "Well, no, they did say... I don't know about Cedrella, I think she was here out of curiosity more than anything else. She seemed more... At ease with herself? Her position, I mean.

"Callidora..." She shivered. "She said she wanted to help me."

"With what?"

"She said there's a lot I don't know. About our family. Which is true, but I don't think I want to hear anything from her, you know? But she..." For some reason she couldn't quite bring herself to repeat what Callidora had said about Regulus. "She mentioned family curses. You know I've been looking into them for a while." Draco and Pansy both nodded. "She might prove useful, I don't know, but the way she put herself across was unnerving. And Marius seemed curious. I don't think he wanted much politically but he..." Again, she felt uncertain mentioning he was a squib, and the look on Draco's face turned her stomach. She couldn't then say that Marius's granddaughter might be a muggleborn witch. "He wanted to get a read on my character, I think," she said eventually, even now feeling guilty that she was being dishonest with Draco and Pansy, yet again. "They weren't particularly forthcoming, but Callidora started talking about certain things... To do with the war and I just needed to get out of there."

She could sense Draco and Pansy exchanging a look over the top of her head. "So thank you," she said quickly, hastening her step. "I'll be alright, though."

"Right," Pansy said faintly, "sure."

"All in all I suppose it went rather alright."

"Really? Because having to leave after twenty minutes doesn't generally mean something went alright."

"Well, it could have been a lot worse," Aurora conceded, trying to talk herself up about it. "And I suppose now if I want something from them — Callidora most likely — if I have questions, then I can reach out."

"Yeah," Draco said, "but now they can too."

"They're family." Draco snorted. "I know, not really, but I do have some sense of duty and I... I'm interested." It was difficult to admit to. "They — Callidora especially — knew Arcturus and Lucretia and my Grandmother better than I did. And they might not be entirely positive but..."

"Of course they're not going to be positive," Draco said shortly, "they're blood traitors, Aurora."

"They were in difficult circumstances," she said, trying to keep her voice low but her tone firm. She could feel Vincent and Greg tense behind her as Draco slowed. "Listen, I just feel like I might get something out of this. And I think Arcturus would have wanted me to at least hear what they had to say now that they've sought me out."

"I'm not sure that he would." Draco turned to give her a pointed look. Pansy and the boys remained conspicuously silent. "I mean, they were still disowned. Not by him, but he didn't do anything about it, did he? And he never mentioned them to you, did he?"

"No," Aurora admitted, "but that doesn't mean that in this circumstance he would think I'm doing the wrong thing by simply listening. It was one meeting. Maybe it'll come to nothing because I don't particularly want to get back in touch right now, but at least I can say I heard them."

"I don't think he'd want you to speak to blood traitors and a squib—"

"Well, I'll never get to know what he'd think," Aurora snapped finally, "because he is not here and I am, even if I wish he was here, but I think I know him a damn sight better than you ever did."

"I'm just saying if I were head of the family—"

"You're not." Something harsh, burning, erupted inside of her. "I am, Draco, and I'll never know what exactly my family wanted for me, I'll never get the chance to ask, but the least you can do, as the only family I've got left from my childhood, is support me instead of telling me I'm wrong!"

"I'm not not supporting you, I literally just got you out of there!"

"I know," she said, voice softening as her moment of anger turned more to an ebbing frustration, "I know and thank you, Draco, but... Please. Just let me do what I need to do." Their eyes met and for a moment she could sense his anger, his own deep-rooted frustration.

It didn't seem to ebb, but eventually he said, "Fine," and there was some semblance of relief.

It still gnawed at her, though. Their argument had shifted something in their little group, something which made the boys side-eye her and Pansy wring her hands together nervously and avoid meeting Aurora's gaze. The irritation mounted inside of her as they continued down the street, in the direction of Honeydukes sweetshop, where the boys investigated the remnants of the Halloween collection and Aurora and Pansy loitered in a corner, bored.

"What was that about?" Pansy asked her in a low voice when there was no one in earshot.

"Nothing. I'm just a bit frustrated today, by everything, that's all. I'll apologise properly to Draco later—"

"No," Pansy said quietly, "he shouldn't have said that. About your family. I mean, first of all, he's not head of the house and I don't know why he'd even say that—"

"I don't think he meant it in any sort of treacherous way—"

"—and it was way unfair. I mean, I don't get it either. The way they seem to have acted I'd just drop them, but it's your choice." She shrugged. "And I know you know your family than he ever could. I — I might not agree with you, but I get why you want to see them."

Aurora blinked, surprised. "You do?"

"Well, yes." Pansy stared at the floor and took a deep breath. "I mean, you just met your father like a year ago and everything's gone crazy and turned upside down and you've learned about your mother and I don't want to say anything wrong, but I get you'd want to unpack that, I guess, and especially with the one who's a squib and... Well, I just hope it helps."

Her words had come out in such a rush that it took Aurora a moment to actually process them, and when she did, she wasn't entirely sure how to react. "Thanks," she said lamely, then winced. "I mean, I didn't really think about it like that but... It's not like they knew my mother, and that's not what I'm interested in anyway. But it was nice to think about someone who knew Arcturus better. Even if today didn't live up to that ... memory... the way I wanted it to."

Pansy looked at her, considering, and nodded once before turning away. "Are you okay?"

Aurora couldn't quite come up with an answer for that. "I'd just rather that conversation hadn't happened."

Apart from anything else, the reminder that she might not be living up to what her family had wanted from her, and that she would never know exactly what they thought of the girl she turned out to be, tore into her chest. It terrified her. Yet she was growing more and more aware of the necessary differences between herself and her ancestors, in her beliefs and in her actions.

She didn't know how to reconcile that. She wasn't sure that she ever would.

When the boys rejoined them, Aurora was almost relieved to realise the time was approaching half past one, the time she had promised to meet her father. Even though Potter would be there, she felt it would be better than the also stifling atmosphere that had descended between her and her friends.

She made hasty excuses and pretended not to see the frustrated look on Draco's face, before hurrying away to the small cafe her father had asked to meet her and Potter at, just off the Main Street — Agobard's. It was a really decent place, she supposed, and she liked that it was out of the way. It meant fewer intrusions.

When she arrived, it was Potter she spied first, sitting in a booth and twiddling his thumbs. His gaze darted around anxiously and when he spotted her she was sure he breathed a sigh of relief. Somehow, she felt obligated to hurry up even though she could have slowed, and slipped into a seat opposite him.

"Isn't my father here yet?" she asked first, and Potter shook his head.

"No. He'll be lucky if he hasn't been mobbed by Rita Skeeter." Potter scowled at the table and Aurora winced.

"She's in the village?" He nodded. "Bitch."

A sudden and unexpected laugh erupted out of him; she'd surprised herself even by saying it, but didn't have the ease to restrain herself. "She saw me with Ron and Hermione and just started interrogating me. Like, she moved me away and started talking and she had this weird quill that took notes itself and she... She was weird."

"She's awful," Aurora corrected, tossing her hair.

She didn't want to ask what Potter knew about Skeeter, but he answered the unspoken question for her anyway.

"I remember she wrote about you last year," he admitted. "That was... Bad. Even I thought so."

"No, you didn't. If you did, you would have been more considerate instead of going along with the same line as everyone else."

He blinked when he looked up, as though surprise, and Aurora stared back. "What's wrong with you?"

"Oh, sorry, am I not allowed to dislike her anymore? Is that your thing now?"

"No, you just said that weird. You're not even properly glaring at me." His brow furrowed. "What's wrong?"

"Do you want me to glare at you, Potter?"

"No." He shook his head. "Forget it. Whatever it is, I guess it's none of my business. But anyway — I don't like Skeeter either. She didn't have any right to write about you the way she did then, or more recently."

"You've been keeping tabs on her writing about me?"

"In your dreams, Black." She snickered. "Parvati Patil told Hermione about it and she told me and Ron."

"I do love being gossiped about."

"I wasn't gossiping—"

"I know, Potter." Aurora laughed, shaking her head. He gave her a weird look. "Anyway, what did Skeeter want with you?"

He squirmed uncomfortably and his gaze darted to the door. Aurora raised her eyebrows in question, but when it took him a moment to answer she merely sighed and sat back, making a show of inspecting her nails to distract from the painful silence.

Seconds ticked by. She was about to say how nice the weather was just to fill the stilted gap, until Potter at last said in a rush, "She asked my about my parents."

Aurora snapped her head up to stare at him.

"I'm sorry?"

"She..." Potter's cheeks went red. "Sorry."

"Don't be ridiculous, why are you apologising? What did she say?"

"Well I know you don't really want to hear—"

"She's a cow and it's clearly bothered you Potter, what the hell did she say?" She could tell from the look on his face that she had caught him off guard and so softened her voice to add, "You don't have to tell me if you don't want to. But, you can. I expect you'll want to tell my father, and if she's out of line he'll want to know."

Potter blinked slowly and nodded. "It was stupid. She was asking all these questions, did I think they'd be proud of me for my Quidditch achievements, if I remembered them..." Her hand curled into a fist. Skeeter had no right to ask Potter such things. "Then she started asking what I reckoned they'd think about Sirius, and I just said I reckon they made him godfather for a reason, and she asked if I thought he was..." He lowered his voice and leaned across the table. Aurora followed, frowning. "Don't tell him this bit, she asked if I thought he was stable. And I said yes obviously and told her to shut up." She tried not to groan. "And I just wanted to leave, but she started talking about the tournament and asked why I hadn't entered, and I said I was underage and I'm really happy for Cedric—"

"She's going to write that you hate the other two now—"

"And she basically insinuated that I could get away with anything because I'm the boy who lived, which is untrue—"

"It's actually the only accurate thing I've ever heard of her saying, but continue—"

He flashed her a dirty look before saying, "I just don't know why she wanted to talk to me. And I don't know what she's going to say, and I didn't want to talk about my parents. She started saying how they were these great war heroes and asking what I knew of them and..." He broke off, swallowing tightly. Aurora pursed her lips, annoyed with herself for the twinge of sympathy that went through her. "Not that there's ... I mean, they were great people. Everybody says that." She nodded slowly. "But I don't want to talk about them. I mean, I do. I don't not want to talk about them, but it — I certainly didn't want to then and I don't like feeling like I'm expected to say a certain thing. They were great people but I didn't... Know them. She expected me to get all emotional and I just didn't..." He winced. "Sorry, you don't want to be the one to hear this. I don't even know why I'm talking to you, of all people—"

"You didn't know how to feel," Aurora told him bluntly, equally uncomfortable but feeling she needed to say something before he started rambling haplessly. "They're gone, and you're supposed to feel a loss, but how can you lose something you can't remember having, right? They're names and faces and stories, but that's it. Even if everyone thinks they should be more." She stared at the table, cheeks flaming. "Anyway."

Silence fell, drawn out and creating a cloud around their table, blocking out the few other patrons and their gentle conversations. Aurora stared at the table, feeling like she would rather like it to swallow her up and transport her literally anywhere other than there.

Softly, eventually, Potter said, "Yeah."

Aurora breathed a sigh of relief. She nodded, because that was all she could think of to do for a moment, as if that would somehow break the awkward energy surrounding them.

"So," she managed, "Skeeter's a cow, then."

Potter let out a forced chuckle. "Seems like it. I don't really know what to do about it. Hermione said I should have walked right out of there but I didn't really know what to do at all. I kinda just stood there."

"She has that effect. I think it's the clothes, they're bright and very disarming."

"I know, right? She just catches you off guard!"

"Oh, absolutely, she did the same to me! She's awful!"

"Did she do that thing where she leans in like she's telling you a secret and just says some absolute nonsense about 'profile'?"

"Oh, yes, she told me I needed to keep up an appearance, as if I'm stupid enough to think she's at all helpful to me!"

"Hello, kids."

Her father's voice came brightly from beside them, and Aurora turned sharply to see him. Annoyingly, she smiled, unable to help the grin that pulled at her lips as she stood to hug him.

"Now," he said, once Potter had also hugged him quickly and they'd both sat back down, "are we fighting, or bitching about someone else, it wasn't entirely clear?"

Trying to get over the fact her father had just said the word bitching out loud, Aurora sighed and said, "We actually weren't fighting, so you can relax."

"Yeah," Potter said cheerfully, "we were talking about our mutual hatred for a certain journalist."

"It's amazing the way hatred can bring people together."

Her father looked pleased, if slightly baffled, as he sat down. "Well, do tell. Skeeter hasn't been after you again, Rory?"

"It was Potter this time," Aurora said, shaking her head.

Her father turned to Potter with a frown. "Are you okay?"

Potter shrugged. "I mean, no. But it's fine."

"It's not, actually," Aurora said flatly when her father sent her a questioning look, "but I'll let him tell you himself."

Potter repeated quickly to Aurora's father what he had already told her, while she looked over the menu. He had to pause momentarily while they ordered, before launching into it again, this time with a lot more detail about precisely what Skeeter had said and what he had thought her quill had taken down.

"She's no right to talk to you," Aurora's father said once Potter had finished, "especially about that. There has to be something I can do — for both of you."

Potter shrugged and Aurora looked away. While she would love to get rid of Skeeter, she was also, as far as she knew, operating within the law. The government was regrettably lax about whom journalists and the like could talk about or to, and it wasn't like Potter really had anyone who had to give permission for such a thing as an interview, like a parent would. Even though her father was his godfather and technically a guardian, it had yet to be enacted legally. As for her, she had always insisted she didn't need anyone to protect her. She was Lady Black and in her mind that made her basically an adult.

Except sometimes she wasn't so sure that she liked that.

She was broken from her thoughts when their food arrived, all of them having gotten various soups and sandwiches, welcome on the cold autumnal day. As they ate, her father asked, "Aurora, did you have much joy with your meeting earlier?"

She swallowed around a piece of bread. "I don't know. I mean, it was good to meet them, I suppose, but I didn't gain much."

"And what did you want to gain?"

Aurora shrugged. "I don't know, to be honest. And I had to leave early, Draco and the others saved me — but I'll tell you later."

Though she felt she knew him well enough now to know he wasn't going to snoop and gossip so much, she still didn't like Potter listening in, nor did she like how his face had soured when she mentioned Draco. "Tell me how you've been," she insisted, hoping to steer the conversation away, as her father started — rather tentatively at first — telling them about his most recent dinner at Andromeda's which she had insisted he join them for, alongside Remus Lupin and Hestia Jones. Apparently, Andromeda had decided Aurora's father needed a 'support network' of friends and family, and though her father dismissed it, Aurora thought Andromeda could be right.

Conversation flowed easily, mostly between Harry and her father, but Aurora was content to follow along, laughing at her father's story about his motorcycle's most recent in-air malfunction, and Potter's tale about Granger and Weasley's most recent fight, which had involved a flipped chessboard and an Astronomy chart.

Aurora was still relieved when they left and began to disperse. Potter had clearly told Granger and Weasley to meet him outside, and they greeted Aurora's father quickly, before Granger started whispering rapidly to Potter and Aurora took the opportunity to hang back with her father.

"You've been quiet," was the first thing he said, and she nodded, silent. "Is everything alright with you and Harry?"

"It's fine," she said, rolling her eyes, "not that it would matter if we weren't. We're not actively trying to kill each other, okay?"

"Yes," He said slowly, "but I could tell you were a bit uncomfortable back there."

"I'm just distracted," she explained, to nodding.

"How did the Three Broomsticks go?"

"Weirdly," she admitted, "and I don't really know how else to describe it and to be honest I'm not even sure what I expected. Marius seems nice, Cedrella is quiet but I guess... I don't know, it's weird, but I understand them? Marius never had a choice, he was forced out the family and its horrible. And I feel like I never thought about it before and I should have."

"You didn't know."

"No, but what if I should have? It's my responsibility to know our history."

"And if you'd been told this when you were ten, do you think you'd have seen it the same way as you do now?"

She didn't want to answer, mostly because she knew the answer to be no.

"It was just weird. He told me about his granddaughter. He thinks she's a witch, and he wants me to speak to her at some point. Once it's confirmed, obviously. Which I think I'd be happy to do but the whole things still feels strange. Like, it's just..." She couldn't find the words to explain, the way that her life and memory constantly felt like they were being upended, like everything she'd ever known was changing and even her memories would never be the same. "Cedrella seemed fine. She left the family because she wanted to marry the man he loved, which I don't know if I necessarily agree with, but... I suppose I understand? I suppose it doesn't..." She stared down the cold street, heart hammering. "I suppose it doesn't make her a bad person."

"No," her father said softly, "it doesn't."

Still keeping her gaze straight ahead, focusing on the backs of Potter and his friends, Aurora nodded. "I'm not sure I liked Callidora. She started talking about — about Arcturus and then about Regulus, and I just... I needed out of there."

"What did she say?"

"That his body was never found, that she apparently knew something that I didn't, that I was wrong and didn't know enough and it was like she was telling me I wasn't good enough to be Lady Black even though I don't know what her standards could even be. And I don't think it's fair of her to have any expectations but also, of course she does? And I just... I feel like I don't really know why they wanted to talk to me. I don't know where I stand."

Out of the corner of her eye, Aurora caught her father nodding slowly. "And you don't like uncertainty." He took in a deep breath, and when Aurora forced herself to look at him she realised he was doing the same thing as she did, staring straight ahead, blankly, trying to hide. "What exactly did she say about — about my brother?"

It was strange to hear him say the words like that. It felt clinical, formal — not Regulus, but merely 'brother'.

"That he couldn't be buried. Arcturus apparently spoke to her about it but she was cryptic with me. Probably deliberately. She said..." She swallowed tightly and lowered her voice. "That his soul couldn't depart this earth. And I'm not sure what she meant by saying that."

Her father contemplated this for a moment, then shook his head. "I don't know, Aurora. I wish I did. I don't..." He trailed off, gaze going to somewhere far in the distance, where the Shrieking Shack was just visible over the hill. "I didn't know nearly enough about him."

Not knowing what to say to that, Aurora continued walking. Her father kept step, but silence hung in the air. "I'm sorry," she said softly, though she wasn't sure what she was apologising for.

Her father waved her off. "Don't be silly, Aurora. I'm fine."

"You're not," she murmured. Sometimes he fooled her but she could see that look in his eye, could feel the sudden nervous tension that had built inside him at the mention of Regulus's name and the reminder of the past.

"I'm handling it."

"It's alright if you're not, Dad. I didn't mean to upset you talking about this—"

"It's not your fault," he was quick to say, turning urgently, "I don't ever want you to worry about what you can and can't say with me, Aurora."

"Yeah, but... I know it's difficult for you, is all."

He smiled wanly, running a hand through his hair. "I'm here," he said, after a pause, "that's what matters."

Aurora had to stop herself from saying more, instead choosing to wrap her arms tighter around herself as they picked up the pace somewhat.

"I hope you know," her father said eventually, "you don't have to feel pressured to do anything about this right now. It's okay to be uncertain. And whatever you need... Please do tell me. You haven't written as much as I thought."

"I've been busy."

"I know. But I want to make sure you know you can talk to me. About anything. That's what I'm here for."

"I know," Aurora said softly, shoving her hands in her pockets, and sighing. "Thanks, Dad. And the same goes for you."

"You don't need to worry about me, sweetheart."

She shrugged. "I do, though."

Tentatively, he put an arm around her shoulders, and Aurora didn't shrug it off. "Just talk to me, sweetheart. Anything you need, I promise I'll do everything I can to help. Even if you just need to write it out, yeah?" She nodded, swallowing tightly. "I love you," he reminded her, and she smiled faintly.

"I know."

With a strained smile, she stepped away, not sure why she felt suddenly uncertain. He'd said it before, and she knew it, but she was still nervous of affection, especially in public.

"Come on," she said as evenly as she could, nodding to where the three Gryffindors were up ahead of them, "let's catch up to Potter."

She tried not to worry about the way her father's face fell when she said that, but it still nagged at her as they caught up to the others. It came with a sickening unease, a sense of guilt that couldn't ebb.

——

AN: Sorry for not updating in so long! Life just got on top of me for a little while and this chapter proved trickier to edit than I expected, but it's here now and I hope you all enjoyed it! I've been excited to get this one out for a while.