As term turned closer to the summer and the Easter holidays inched ever closer, Aurora found herself swamped. Though Quidditch was now out the window, as the pitch was unusable and Snape said they weren't allowed to fly anywhere in the grounds in case they damaged whatever was growing there, Aurora still filled her nights with dance club and duelling club, cramming in homework between learning new spells and techniques and trying to crack the secrets of the cursed ring, and trying her best to keep in contact with scattered family members and requests and letters from other Assembly members and Carrick Bratt. If she wasn't in the library, then she was in an alcove she'd found on the Marauders' Map hiding from the rest of the student body for some quiet and change of scene, or else in her quiet room on the seventh floor, doing the same but in more comfortable surroundings. She hardly saw the common room, for it was too noisy for her to concentrate, and she had to be dragged in there on Saturday evenings by either Pansy or Gwen — on one occasion, both, looking incredibly annoyed about the situation — who insisted she 'socialise' and join the ridiculous parties the upper years had taken to hosting. No matter how much she protested that she was busy and didn't have the time to relax right now, her friends insisted, and though Aurora knew they meant well, the time lost only contributed to her growing feeling that life was escaping from her, leading to frustrated outbursts when no one else was around.

It was around a fortnight before the Easter holidays when she and Cassius called it quits. She had barely had time to see him, which she knew was her own fault, but hearing him say the words, "It just doesn't seem like you're into this," with his wide eyes and concerned frown still made her want to cry.

"I'm sorry," she said in a small whisper, leaning against the common room wall. He had found her on her way back to her dormitory in search of a book she'd left behind about the creation of ghosts. "I — it's not a good time." Cheeks flaming, heart pounding and palms sweaty, she glanced around in search of her friends, but only Daphne and Lucille were around. She had no excuses to make to get out of this, and she knew, deep down, it needed to happen. "Cass, I really…" Her cheeks heated even further and she forced herself to meet his eyes. "I really like you. I just don't know if I can, er, make time for… This, right now."

There was a sad but resigned look on his face that ate her up with guilt. She wished she knew how to make this easy, or how to make a relationship work, or communicate that it wasn't his fault, and she wasn't mad, and she just wanted things to go back the way that they were. But she could. Her tongue felt too large in her mouth, stuck in place.

"Right," was all Cassius could seem to manage to say. Aurora winced. "Yeah, no, I — I kind of got that."

He just looked at her and she had no idea what to say. Heart pounding, she clasped her hands together and her head spun. "I've been really busy, and I don't know how to—"

"I get it," Cassius interrupted, and she bristled. He clenched his jaw for a second. "Our relationship — or whatever it is by this point — isn't a priority."

"I didn't say that."

"It's pretty obvious it's the case," he said, shaking his head and stuffing his hands in his pockets. "You don't have to try and lie and make it better. It's fine."

"It's not fine—"

"It's fine." His voice was harsh and his eyes stony, yet Aurora could detect that familiar flicker in his gaze, of uncertainty and of hurt. He backed away, and when Aurora tore her gaze away from him the rest of the common room blazed into view again. Her eyes burned though, her vision blurring. "I'll… Ill see you around, Black."

He didn't give her a chance to reply before he turned away, and whatever she had been about to say — another fruitless apology, an excuse, a broken sentence of justification — died in her throat.

Horror rose in her chest as Aurora realised she was close to crying. She tightened her grip on her stack of books, tensing around it and afraid to let go. She held them to her chest like a child hugs their knees, and told herself, don't cry. It was stupid. But even though she had known this was coming, even though it wasn't a surprise, she felt herself splintering just knowing that it was over and that she had messed it up. She was incapable of holding onto a relationship. She had tried to build something and had failed and she knew she had gone wrong in a million ways in the last three months and still could not pinpoint what they were. Just that she, unsurprisingly, was not cut out for this type of thing. Perhaps she was not cut out for any meaningful relationship that lasted.

The thought made her want to burn with shame, as she held her book close to her chest and, with bleary eyes, hurried from the common room. The library, she decided, was the first place she could go. It would be a refuge and a distraction, keeping her away from her own thoughts.

It was stupid to get upset, she told herself. That old familiar saying; don't cry. It was only a silly little romance, only a boy. There were more important things in the world.

It didn't stop the tears from coming to her eyes, part sadness and part just pure frustration at the situation and the feeling that she had ruined it herself. She clattered up the stairs from the dungeons, hurrying along the corridor and to the nearest secret passage she could find, hoping to hide herself and her surely reddening face.

Then she saw a figure in her peripheral vision and stepped neatly out of the way, blinking through her tears to see Potter, hair a wind blown mess and his eyes wide when he looked at her. He'd been walking rather fast but now slowed, and she felt sick to see the look of concern on his face. As if he could be concerned for her.

"Black?" he asked in a tentative voice.

She swallowed around the lump in her throat and forced her face to return to neutrality, all the while clinging to her stack of books for dear life. It's stupid, she reminded herself, to get upset over a boy.

"Potter." She kept her face stony and ignored the weakness that betrayed her voice. "Why are you skulking about here?"

He blinked, surprised, but brushed the question off and stepped closer. "Are you alright? You look a bit…" She raised her eyebrows and he trailed off. "Nothings happened, has it?"

"Nothing you need to know about," she said coolly, and though he still looked curious, he seemed to take this as an adequate answer. Aurora took in a deep breath and made to breeze past him, asking, "Why are you hanging about here then?"

Potter turned and hurried after her, which Aurora found rather amusing to note. "I was actually coming to find you. I need the Marauders' Map."

"Why?"

"Because we said it was to be shared between us but you'd keep it most of the time and you've barely given it to me."

"You've barely asked. Why now?"

"I… Ron, Hermione and I." He had lowered his voice considerably. "We reckon Karkaroff's been sneaking about a lot, and Hermione says Krum said he disappears from the Durmstrang boat a lot."

"And let me guess, you want to follow him in the dead of night and land yourself in mortal danger?" Somehow, taunting Potter made her feel better about her own situation. It was a familiar distraction that still required her to think and pay attention.

Potter glared at her but it seemed rather half-hearted. "I think I'd leave out the mortal danger part, Black."

"You say that but it seems awfully difficult for you, Potter."

"Can I borrow the map or not?"

She glared at him, suspicious. "If I let you borrow it, will you tell me whatever you find out?"

Potter matched her glare with a scoff. "I'm sure you'll find out anyway. I'm not the only one who snoops around, after all."

"So you admit you snoop around?"

"Can I please just have the map, Black?" Aurora fought an amused grin.

"Well, I suppose you did ask nicely." She frowned, fighting her protective urge over it. Of everyone she knew, she knew that Potter really was the person with the most reverence for the map. If there was anyone she could trust to truly desire to protect it, unfortunately, she had to admit that it was him. "You better only do as you say though. And no loaning this out to anyone else. And if any part of it is damaged I will hold you accountable and you do not want to have to find out how I got my revenge like in second year."

Potter scoffed, rolled his eyes and said, "You didn't do anything, Black. We both know you're all talk." She couldn't help but smirk back at him at that. "Can I get the map now?"

"You'll return it immediately after breakfast tomorrow morning."

Fire and relief leapt into his eyes and he said swiftly, "Yeah, sure!"

Pursing her lips in annoyance, Aurora finally conceded, "Fine," and reached around herself to withdraw it from her satchel.

Something cold, a breeze, fluttered over the back of her neck as she did so. Aurora shivered, fingertips tightening around the golden buckle on her bag. She stilled, for just an instant, feeling frozen air around her. A shadow stole across the floor and then was released, the moment broken by the snap of her bag opening. She found the secret pocket with the map in it swiftly, and handed it over to Potter with a grim feeling in her chest.

"You don't want to make me regret this." She couldn't bring herself to say it with the usual malice though. And Potter didn't take it as such.

He just grinned and took it. "Cheers, Black. See you at breakfast!"

"After breakfast," she corrected, wrinkling her nose. "Not during, thank you very much."

Potter grinned, backing away for a second and then turning so that they fell into step together. "Like I want to visit the Slytherin Table."

Aurora glared sideways at him. "Like I'd expose people I actually like to your personality. Put that in your bag, safe, now, Potter."

"You've really no trust in me."

"No. Put it away."

This only seemed to amuse him but at least he obliged, and though she still felt a shivering discomfort at having Potter walk with her, they separated as soon as he spotted Granger and Weasley at another table.

It wasn't an entirely awful encounter, she thought to herself as she drifted over to her favourite quiet corner, by the window overlooking the growing Quidditch pitch. She chose to face away from it, though — looking at it made emotion spring forth in her heart again, reminded her of Cassius's face and the pain and fear of knowing something had torn in the threads binding them. Instead she thought to Potter's apparent quest, and what it might mean for the future. Everything seemed to scare her now; every challenge looked darker and loomed larger.

At least Easter, Aurora thought, could be something of a reprieve.

-*

It was odd to think about going home for the holiday. Most people stayed for the two weeks in April, and Aurora had never left Hogwarts for the occasion. The morning after her conversation with Potter, Snape came round the table to check who was planning on staying in the castle and who was going home. When Aurora told him, without looking up at him, that she was going to spend Easter with her father, he had given a haughty sort of snort and moved on to Draco beside her, who himself gave a quizzical look. She wasn't sure if it was because of the company she would be keeping or simply because it was unusual for her to leave the castle in Easter at all. As far as she knew, this year the only other Slytherins from her year who were also going home were Gwen and Theo — Gwen because her siblings were all off for the two weeks and it was expected she would be home too, and Theo because he was worried about his mother, and had insisted all his siblings join him too.

Aurora just wanted to see her family.

When Snape had moved out of earshot, Draco glanced around the table and said, "You're really having Easter with your father?"

She said, shortly, "Yes."

Draco raised his eyebrows. "There's no need to say yes like that."

"What shall I say yes like?"

He stared at her, glanced over her shoulder, narrowed his eyes and then said, "You've fallen out with Cassius."

Not sure quite what to do, Aurora stared at him, voice stuck. "We… Broke up."

"Yeah. I knew something was up when you came back to the common room yesterday." She nodded grimly; part of her wanted to protest that any potential mood was not only to do with something so stupid as a boy, but also didn't dare give voice to her and Potter's concerns about Karkaroff. "Are you okay?"

"Obviously." Aurora blinked, giving him a blank look, though her mind was racing. "What does this have to do with my Easter plans?"

He shrugged. "I mean, it just has to do with you. You're not yourself."

"What's myself, then?"

Wrinkling his nose, Draco gave her a cool look. "Not as snappy as this. I'm only asking, Aurora."

That did give her pause a little. Aurora glared at the toast on her plate, took a quick, sharp bite, and then looked back to Draco. "If you must know, I think I'll be alright. I'm probably in a mood right now but I don't think that's entirely unexpected, but it was doomed to fall apart anyway and frankly I've bigger things to worry about."

Her cousin fixed his shrewd gaze on her for a moment, looking her over as though scanning for signs of weakness. It occurred to Aurora suddenly, with a twist in her gut, that she didn't like that her mind jumped to that. Not when, seeing the genuine concern in her cousin's eyes, she realised that wasn't really what he was doing.

"If you say so," he said eventually, "I mean, you're too good for Warrington anyway."

"Thanks," she said drily, "but there's really no need to say so. It's amicable enough."

He snorted. "Yeah, okay, tell me that after we start playing Quidditch again." Aurora huffed in annoyance and shoved his shoulder and he laughed. For a second everything was alright; the world had slotted back into place and so had they. Then he asked, "But really — you never said anything about going to your dad's?"

And there it was, the ice cold sliver of uncertainty in her stomach. The fear of judgment and the newfound defiance of it, too. "It slipped my mind," she admitted, not meeting his eyes, "I know we usually all stay here, but I think I'd like to see him and he'd like to see me, especially since I wasn't here at Christmas." Her voice was slightly tight but she pushed on, forcing honesty out of herself. "We've a lot of catching up to do still. I'm rather excited about it, actually. I might even meet Marius Black's granddaughter — he thinks she may be a witch, see."

The words were out there and she couldn't take them back now, even though her voice had trailed away into a whisper at the end, even though Draco had had to lean closer in that conspiratorial way they had done when they were younger which didn't quite feel the same anymore.

"Oh." It was all he managed to say for a moment before he could recover. She could see the conflict playing out in his own mind as he grappled to make sense of what she had said and how that fit into his own vision of the world. Aurora held her breath, partway between wishing she hadn't said anything and being relieved she'd forced herself to do so, yet scared of his answer. "Well, that's… Good, I suppose. To have more… Witches in the family. Does she have a Muggle name?"

"Nope. She's a Black too."

"Merlin. I thought they would change it. You know, acclimatise."

"Assimilate. And I'll have you know Black is a rather common Muggle surname. But Elise seems nice, and I'm excited to meet her too and if she is a witch then I expect you'll be glad to know her as well."

There was a flicker behind his eyes but Aurora felt a sharp, warm burst of triumph when he smiled and said, "I expect I will. Especially if you like her."

"I don't know her yet. But I hope that I do. Like you said, it'll be nice to have another witch in the family."

And when Draco grinned the relief surged through her, so strong that had she not been in public she thought she might, irrationally, have cried or else simply beamed. But somehow she felt the acceptance beneath his words and felt the promise of hope.

"Well. I guess I'll have to remind Mother to send your Easter egg on to you personally this year." His smile faded but it remained. "As long as you can still kick every Gryffindor's arses in exams, right?"

"That was never, and should never be, in doubt," Aurora promised, and pleased with herself and her morning — despite how wretched it could have been — she ate her breakfast with a smile and pointedly avoided looking near either Cassius Warrington or Harry Potter.

By the end of breakfast they had lapsed into an amiable quiet, but when Aurora made to stand, she caught the eye of Harry Potter across the hall and froze. He nodded, slowly but clearly — rather missing the point of the slow movement, which Aurora assumed was supposed to be something resembling subtlety — and she folded her napkin gracefully with an unsettled feeling in her stomach. Then she nodded back, and swung her satchel onto her shoulder.

"I have to pick something up from the library," she told Draco, "I'll see you in class."

"Sure," he said distractedly, breaking from the story he was telling Vincent and Greg, "I'll save your seat."

With a brief smile, Aurora hurried from the room. When she passed Cassius Warrington, her gaze caught on his face, and her heart hammered violently in her chest. But he didn't look at her and so she hurried onwards, ponytail swinging behind her.

Aurora found Potter outside Moaning Myrtle's bathroom on the first floor; she had seen him head this way and was glad he'd stopped before she'd had to call on him. Still, it was an odd place to choose, and she wasn't sure what had made him think to pause there. At least he was alone, she thought to herself as she caught up to him. It was too early to deal with Weasley and she wasn't entirely sure what ground she and Granger were standing on.

"This is rather a creepy place to hang out," she told Potter by way of greeting, causing him to glare at her.

"I was waiting on you," he snarked back, "how do you walk so slow?"

"I do not walk slow, Potter." To prove her point, Aurora hastened through the last couple of steps until she was by his side. "I merely take my time, so as not to arouse suspicion."

Potter snorted, and took the Marauder's Map from his pocket. "If you say so, Black."

"Did you find anything out?" Aurora asked him as she took the map with a forced smile.

Potter shrugged. His gaze darted around the hallway, landing on the few other students milling about. "Not here." Disturbingly, he moved in the direction of the entrance to the bathroom, but decided against it when he saw Aurora's face. "Um, there's that secret passage—"

"Potter, you and I disappearing into a secret passage would definitely register as suspicious. Just tell me, but lower your voice, and look vaguely antagonistic, and then no one will question it."

"Right. Yeah, that's fair, just — you're still standing far enough away that you look like you think I'm infectious."

Rolling her eyes, Aurora moved closer, leaning against the wall and facing him with one arm propped up. "Good enough now?" He nodded, glaring.

"Alright, so, the three of us were following Karkaroff. He'd snuck out of the Durmstrang ship about half eleven — I don't know if I said, but Hermione said Krum says he's been doing that a lot and it's definitely weird." Aurora nodded along, holding the map defensively to her chest. Neither of them were doing a particularly good job of antagonism; Potter kept furrowing his brow and then wound up looking worried, whereas Aurora was too impatient to really be sure what she was doing with her face. And in any case, the gravity of Potter's voice told her their perceived enmity wasn't the most important issue at stake. "He was headed towards the dungeons at first, when we saw him. So we came down here and looked for him and followed, and we thought he was going for the Potions cupboard, so he might nick something, but then he just ended up talking to Snape."

Aurora raised her eyebrows. "That's rather late, but there's always people left in the common room by then, it's not so strange. Snape would certainly be awake normally. Did you get to hear any of what they spoke about?"

"Only a bit," Potter said sheepishly. "I think Snape realised someone could be outside, he put some charm on the door and then we couldn't hear. And we couldn't hear much to begin with, but from what we could make out… They were talking about Azkaban."

"Oh?"

"Karkaroff's worried. Thinks that if anyone gets out they'll come after him, and that Snape had better help him get Dumbledore's protection. Which Snape didn't seem impressed by. He just seemed to want to get out of the conversation, and he kicked Karkaroff out pretty quickly so then we followed him again. He was trying to break into Moody's office."

It took a second for all this to sink in, for Potter had spoken very quickly, and really the idea of anyone being so bold as to attempt to break into Professor Moody's office had her at a loss. "Did — he didn't manage it, did he?"

"Obviously not, but it's more the fact he was trying. He had all these weird little trinkets and gadgets with him, there was this gold thing that he was trying to pick the lock with but then it set off some alarm and we all had to leg it back down the corridor."

"Surely Moody would know if Karkaroff was trying to break in. He'll have some way of identifying a potential thief."

"Well, he hasn't done anything so far," Potter said, disgruntled, "and Karkaroff's been so obviously up to something, hadn't he?"

She couldn't bring herself to disagree, especially in light of this. Potter was prone to over excitement when it came to potential plots and adventures, but this time he had evidence. Something was amiss — had been for most of the year, in fact. Aurora leaned against the wall and bit her lip, thinking. "If we can see it," she said slowly, "and Granger and Weasley, presumably, surely Moody will know something's amiss too. After what happened at the First Task, too. If he hasn't acted against Karkaroff, if he's been skulking about for so long — Hermione said Krum told her he's been sneaking out for a while, yes? — then it may be for a reason. He's biding his time, perhaps. And I imagine Dumbledore will be too."

"Or they don't think it's important enough," Potter grumbled, "or they're not really paying attention to the right things. Moody doesn't like Karkaroff but Dumbledore says that he trusts him, and everyone just… Agrees."

"Mhm." At this Aurora paused. Dumbledore had proven himself wilfully ignorant in the past, and though she liked to think he would be more vigilant to such an obvious threat, the man had a most terrible habit of disappointing her. And Potter, it seemed. "You really still think he's trying to kill Crouch?"

Potter's gaze drifted to the ground. "I think he might. Hermione doesn't, but I don't want to rule it out."

"I think that's fair."

He released a quick sigh of relief and looked up to meet her eyes. "You do?"

She blinked in surprise. "Well, yes." Aurora shrugged. "We can't rule out anything. Especially…" Yet again she did not want to give voice to the words inside of her head. "I don't think that is what he wants to do. There are far more discrete ways of having murder arranged, and doing it during the course of a highly publicised tournament just wouldn't work. Unless he's stupid. But he's been acting suspicious so he's up to something and if Crouch does end up dead, well… I don't want to be the one who said you're wrong."

"You always tell me I'm wrong."

"Not about this. I hate to admit it but you do have decent instincts, Potter. Of course there is the possibility that he's trying to move against Moody, though he must have a death wish to try that."

"That's what Ron said." Aurora tried not to pull a face at the comparison. Potter went on, "After Karkaroff legged it he just went back to the Durmstrang ship. But I saw him trying to talk to Snape when we were on our way to breakfast and he did not look happy about it. Not that Snape ever looks like anything but a sour git anyway, but…"

Aurora nodded along, musing. There were so many possibilities to explain Karkaroff's behaviour and none of them she particularly liked. Unsettled, she folded her arms and avoided meeting Potter's gaze. "D'you think Snape knows? Or suspects? I mean, in first year he was the one who was onto Quirrel, wasn't he?"

This made Potter shift uncomfortably, and when Aurora glanced up at him, he was frowning. "Maybe." He was even more reluctant to admit Snape's singular quality than Aurora was. "I wouldn't trust him to do anything about it, though, would you?"

Aurora shrugged. "He doesn't seem particularly fond of Karkaroff. If we could figure out why then we could manipulate the situation into one where he takes care of Karkaroff for us… But I think we're the two people least capable of finding that out."

Potter snorted and scuffed the ground. "Probably. Still…"

Questions lingered unanswered in the air. With a chill crawling over her neck, Aurora tucked the map carefully away in her bag and looked back up at Potter. "I could see what I can find out," she said slowly, hoping he'd say no but feeling like she needed to do something. And still, against her judgment, feeling that old familiar bite of curiosity. "I mean, if Karkaroff snoops about the dungeons then, I'm more likely to be able to do something than you are. And someone must have seen or heard something of he has, people sneak out to the old rooms all the time and…" Her cheeks heated up and she stopped short at the memory of herself and Cassius, laughing silently and hurrying through the hallways, hoping Snape wouldn't find them sneaking about. Her heart thudded in her chest as the thought snatched her away, to a place and time where she could still feel his hand in hers and the warmth of their relationship in her very blood.

"Aurora?"

The use of her name startled her out of it. For a second she stared at Potter in surprise, then narrowed her eyes. Sheepishly, he said, "You… were saying people sneak about at night?"

"Obviously, Potter, it's a boarding school."

He cleared his throat, cheeks going pink. "Right. Well. You — you think you can ask about making anyone suspicious?"

With a tone of confidence that was in no way warranted, and in truth not reflected in her own feelings, Aurora tossed her hair and said, "I'm certain of it. You just have to know to ask the right people."

"Right." An unsteady grin came to Potter's face, then spread. Aurora was rather taken off guard by it, merely raising her eyebrows nd hoping she hadn't sounded too silly. She had been going for impressive, but Potter was awfully difficult to impress. "Well, we're going to do what we can. Talk to Moody, sneak about Snape's office — if you think we're in the dungeon don't tell anyone."

"So long as you don't come near me," she said cheerfully, "because I will curse you."

"Course you will," Potter said flippantly, and Aurora caught herself between grimacing and smiling. A moment later, he had resolved himself to a strange sort of certainty seen in the set of his shoulders and the glimmer in his eye. "We've a plan then?"

Pursing her lips, Aurora admitted, "Potter, I think we just might."

They both pushed off the wall at the same time, straightening up. Breakfast was almost over and already halls were becoming busier. "Thank you, Black," Potter said and she almost hated the earnestness of his voice.

"It's a trade of information, nothing more."

"Still. I thought you'd think I was mad."

"Oh, I do. And completely daft and stupid and all the rest of it. But I don't think you're making something out of nothing."

"You did."

"I have a brain, Potter. It thinks and it changes."

Then she looked at him and sighed, gritting her teeth. The boy looked so weirdly hopeful, yet so determined at the same time and she couldn't understand it. Yet the curiosity she saw in him now — that, she understood. The need for justice or vengeance or simply to know, that was something she had felt. She didn't care much for Crouch or the state of the world and Ministry, but she did want to know.

And she didn't actually want Potter to fail at anything he turned his hand to anymore.

So as she tugged on the strap of her bag and secured the lock, she avoided his gaze but said, "I hope you know what you're doing, Potter. Are you — you staying here for the holidays?"

"Yeah, obviously." He said it so easily. Aurora had, once, too.

She hated herself for the words she wanted to say just as much as she hated herself for not wanting to say them. But she did. Because there was something else reflected between the two of them now, too. It was like the world had turned inside out and suddenly they weren't so different and they didn't need to be on different sides and Aurora let the words rush out, "I'm staying with my father if you'd care to join us."

Potter stared at her, slack-jawed. Silence fell and Aurora half wished she could turn and run and never see him again. Or better yet use a Time-Turner and stop herself, even if she did tear a hole in the fabric of the universe in doing so. At least then she wouldn't have to deal with his horrid, chipper, "Really? That'd be brilliant?"

At least then she wouldn't have to respond with her own forced smile and push away the instant regret and anxiety of how on Earth she would explain Potter's residence to her friends even though she knew it was what her father would love, even though she knew that it was the right thing to do, because for so many holidays she had been the one with no family, either, and if she had had a chance she would have wanted the invite.

"Let me know about Karkaroff," was what she managed to say, in the end, before giving a final strained smile and hurrying away politely just as the bell rang, feeling horribly like she had made a mistake, like selfishness was actually vastly underrated — and yet, feeling like she might actually have done the right thing.

And who knew? With the way the world was turning right now, anything was possible.