A few days from the end of July, Aurora woke to an owl urgently pecking at her bedroom window. It was ten in the morning, and she had allowed herself to sleep in, so the sound was quite annoying. "Stupid bird," she muttered, climbing out of bed. At her feet, Stella purred in agreement.

She opened the window and the owl flew in, ruffling its feathers self-righteously as it landed on the windowsill. She did not recognise the handwriting on the front, though the owl itself was familiar. She handed it a few treats and then, with a loud and annoyed hoot, it flew up onto the top of her bookshelf and stared imperiously down at her, awaiting a reply.

"Rude."

Aurora sat down at her desk chair, and turned the envelope over. It was plain white, and sealed with some adhesive under the flap, like the letters Gwen sent. Her stomach flipped, and she slit it open quickly, pulling out a letter which seemed to have been scrawled out in a haste.

Aurora, it said.

Elise has just received her letter from Hogwarts. She is, officially, a witch. It's a lot for her to take in, but Cally and Cedrella are round to help, and brought an owl so I could let you know.

We'd love if you could pop round and talk things over with her, or if you'd like to come with us to get her school supplies? The book list is apparently pending, but she's eager to get everything else ASAP.

Let us know!

Regards,

Marius

Grinning, Aurora put the letter down and hurried to tug a robe on, tying it around her waist, and dragging the comb through her hair. She bent over her desk, scrawled a hasty reply, and went to hand it to the owl. It glared at her.

Aurora sighed. "You're Callidora's bird, aren't you?"

It hooted in response. Aurora glared, and wrangled its leg out just enough that she could tie a piece of string and the letter to it. "Be quick then," she told the owl, who hissed. "It's important!"

It did not deign to respond to that, merely hooted loudly and took off, startling Stella out of her slumber again.

"Come on," Aurora muttered to her cat as they watched the tawny owl flutter further out of sight, towards the treeline. "I'd better tell my dad."

"Elise got her letter," she announced as she was halfway down the stairs, having spotted her father heading into the dining room. Unable to stop to the grin spreading across her face, she hopped the last couple of steps and added, "Marius wants me to see her, talk to her. Maybe to come to Diagon Alley with them, which I think is a good idea. I'll be able to help fund some of her purchases."

"Really?" He raised his eyebrows. "You're going to help pay for her schooling?"

"Of course," Aurora said, affronted. "She is a Black, after all." And a potential heir. If Aurora was attacked by Bellatrix, unable to be Lady Black, and if something happened to her father or Andromeda or Dora, she could not have the family wealth and property and secrets falling into either Bellatrix or Narcissa's hands. Elise was the perfect opportunity to craft a new heir. "I'm sure knowing Marius and his family they won't want to let me, but I shall pay for something." A glimmer of a smile on her father's face, as he walked with her towards the dining table, where breakfast was already set out.

"Just make sure not to push it. They might not see it the same way as you do, as your duty. They might think you're being… Patronizing."

"Well," she said, frowning in confusion, "I am head of the family."

"I know, but, just don't push it, alright? They might prefer to pay it themselves, and they don't know you that well." He frowned slightly then and asked, "Have you got your letter yet?"

"Not yet, and I'm not sure when I'll get it. Marius said Elise doesn't have a booklist, so maybe they're still finalising it. It's rather inconvenient though, we'll have to make two trips."

"I'm sure you'll survive," her father said drily. "Have you given them a date? Only I'm trying to wrangle it with Dumbledore so I can at least visit Harry on the 31st — his birthday, remember — so that could be a good date for you to go? Assuming you don't want to celebrate Harry's birthday."

"I'll take the 31st," she agreed immediately. "And I imagine Potter—" She broke off, seeing another owl swooping down towards the window. Thinking it was her own Hogwarts letter, Aurora grinned and went to fetch it, but there was no Hogwarts deal as anticipated. Instead, she recognised Theodore's handwriting on the front, and the blue Nott family seal on the back. She opened it quickly, while her father watched with a frown.

Dear Aurora, it read, in Theodore's pristine black cursive.

Thank you for your last letter. My mother was doing better here, for a time. France agrees with her, and she tells me she enjoyed being able to see somewhere new for a change. I hear there was quite a stir at the Assembly — I do hope you're not too disappointed with the results. My mother seemed quite irritated by my grandfather's attitude to Dumbledore's removal from the Wizengamot.

As I said, she had been doing better. The last few days, however, she has taken a turn again. She says she wants to go home, to be comfortable.

The writing shook there, as though his own hand had been trembling.

Of course, I will carry out her wish. She insists that she must be at home to put her affairs in order. I hate that she feels that, that she does not trust my grandfather, but I don't trust him either. There isn't much else I can say, but that we'll be back in the country soon. Still, I don't think we'll get out much, or at least I won't.

On another note, I picked up some French literature while over here. The town we are staying near is Muggle-dominated, and my mum and I went to a little bookshop, where we got some new material. I'm working my way steadily through it, and will pass on any good ones to you.

I hope you're having a better summer than I. Part of me wants to stay here with my mother forever and part of me just wants to get back to school so I don't have to be constantly reminded of what's happening to her. Is that a terrible thing to say? Maybe. I feel terrible saying it, anyway.

I'll see you in September, if not before. Please keep telling me your book recommendations, and whatever else. I feel like I've hardly anything to say in a letter now I try to write it. I don't really know how to say any of it.

I do think you would like France, though, at least this part. We could practice French, and I've seen so many amazing Frankish rune patterns which I think you'd be really interested. And we're by the sea — it really is so gorgeous here, and peaceful. The perfect place for a good book, I'm sure you'd say. Even better than our corner of the common room.

Write soon, Lady Black.

Yours,

Theo

She smiled to read his letter, and know he was thinking of her all the way in France. But knowing how awful he must be feeling about his mother made Aurora's heart hurt for Theo, for all that he was going through and that she understand in the depths of her soul. She wished she could see her friend, if only to hold him and comfort him, to be able to do anything she could to help and ease his struggle.

Penning the perfect reply could take all day. So she re-read the letter, traced her fingertips carefully over the crease as she folded it back over, and laid it down, trying to keep her expression neutral. "Just a friend," she told her father, who was frowning. "Nothing to worry about."

Still, it haunted her.

-*

Things happened quickly. Four days later found her in Diagon Alley, running errands before meeting Marius, Elise, Callidora, and Cedrella, along with Elise's parents, Charles and Eleanor. Aurora could not deny that she was nervous. Pacing the cobbled street did her little good, either, for every time she saw a familiar face, anxiety coiled inside of her, the terrible fear of something happening to Elise or her family as a result of this outing. She told herself that she was just letting her imagination run off with itself, thinking the worst, and that such things would do her no good.

But still, even alone, she kept looking over her shoulder, fearful of who might be following and watching and reporting back. Getting money out of Gringotts had been easy and over too soon; at least there she had the comfort of high security. In the open air and blazing sunlight, she was stifled.

Flourish and Blotts offered refuge. The bookshop was as inviting as always, and the smell of books wrapped around her like a hug from an old friend. Here, she could explore to her heart's content, wandering through the narrow aisles. She had a purpose, too. Of all the libraries across the Black estate, there were hundreds of books, and they had proven useful to her. But, no one had seen fit to update those libraries in quite some time. The most recently dated text she had yet found was from 1920, a treatise on blood relations which she had, frankly, wanted to throw out.

She would never be able to take on the project of modernising the family libraries in one summer, and she also knew that she could not add yet another task to her pile. After all, Summer was meant to be a time to relax and recover. She had enough on her plate between the order and trying to manage the various artefacts they were determined to uncover in Grimmauld Place. But there were a few areas she wanted to get a start on updating. Curses, mainly, duelling techniques and traditions, Potions books, and Arithmancy and Ancient Runes. These were more personal interests, and standard books rather than rare ones, but they could be important for her to have on hand.

Aurora curated a bundle on curses and duels, partly based on Remus and Moody's recommendations, before wandering over to the Arithmancy and Numerology section, where she noticed, at the end of an otherwise deserted aisle, the side of a familiar face.

She smiled, hastening her footsteps as she called gently, "Theodore?"

He turned sharply, staring at her, and blinked a couple of times, as though he was struggling to comprehend the proof of her existence. His voice came out in a hoarse whisper, "Hey."

There was an attempt made at a smile, but it did not reach his eyes. "You're back?" He nodded in silence, wringing his hands together. "How…" She waited until they were closer to continue, in a hushed tone, "How is your mother?"

He just shook his head. "I've just been to see the Apothecary. I have to go back soon, actually, collect a potion. England doesn't agree with her."

"I'm sorry. Is there anything I can—"

"No," he cut her off, taking in a thin, shaken breath. "No, it's — I'm coping. Looking after her."

She did not know what to say to that, how to insist that she was here to help when they both knew, deep down, there was nothing anyone could really do. "Theo—"

"I have to get going," he said shakily. "The potion will be nearly ready, but I have to pick up some other things anyway. I…" He looked at her and his voice faded away. But she nodded in understanding. "I think I saw Draco and Pansy earlier, and I'd better avoid questions, so."

"Oh."

He gave a tense smile and went to move past her. "See you, then."

Theo nodded, not meeting her eyes. "See you."

The interaction had been so awkward it hurt. Theo had been so not himself, and Aurora had no idea how to help. She bit her lip, interest in Numerology severely diminished, and could only pick out a few titles, caught up thinking over their conversation.

And then, there was the fact that Draco and Pansy were apparently also in Diagon Alley, presumably together. Neither had written to invite her, of course. Draco had not written since Merlin's Day, despite his promise and the fact that Aurora had written to him. Today was the worst day for her to potentially bump into the two of them, and especially their parents.

Merlin, what would Lucius Malfoy say? What would he do? She dreaded to think of Elise having to be confronted by his cold glare and haughty sneer.

The thought followed her around as she bought her books, slipping them into a bag designed to make its contents lightweight. She had a meander around the alley, bought some new inks, and then headed back down towards the Leaky Cauldron.

Callidora was already sat in one corner, lips pursed as she nursed a cup of tea. Aurora's nerves fluttered as she made her way over. Callidora still unnerved her somewhat, and she could not get over the steely, determined light in her eyes. Even slipping into the seat opposite her, Aurora felt nervous, and the smile that grew on Callidora's face did little to assuage that.

"Afternoon," she said lightly, checking her wristwatch. "Started shopping without us?"

"I had just a few errands," she replied. "And since we won't be in Flourish and Blotts — since Dumbledore apparently has not found a decent Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher yet — I thought it best to get it out the way. Is Marius running late?"

"He's always running late when he's with Charles and Eleanor," Callidora said with a sigh. "They're absolutely dreadful at keeping time, a habit I dearly hope they have not passed onto poor Elise."

Aurora could not imagine Elise being allowed to keep that habit for very long once she met Professors McGonagall and Snape, though she did not voice this to Callidora. She and Callidora exchanged strained smiles instead and lapsed into silence as they waited.

Thankfully, Cedrella shepherded the group into the pub not long after, looking rather put-upon by this task. Callidora smirked at her sister as she approached, muttering about digital watches and broken clocks. Charles and Eleanor, Elise's parents, appeared to be in their late forties, and both rather bemused by the location in which they found themselves. Elise, like many eleven year olds might, took it all in stride, pointing to every moving and magical contraption. Her eyes widened notably as she beheld the group of goblins in the corner and she hurried on towards Aurora and Callidora, grinning.

"I can't believe you're a witch," she told Aurora as soon as she reached them, in a rather accusatory tone.

"Well," Aurora said awkwardly, "I'm sure your grandfather explained the laws—"

"I totally knew anyway," Elise interrupted, shrugging. Callidora looked behind her and exchanged laughs with her sister and cousin. "You were a bit weird."

"Oh."

"Elise, don't be rude," her mother chided, before sticking out her hand for Aurora to shake. "Eleanor Black. You must be Aurora?"

"That's me," Aurora said nervously, searching for something to say. She eventually settled on complimenting Eleanor's blouse — Andromeda had a similar one. "Have you all eaten, or would you like something here?"

"Oh, we're well stocked," Charles said with a grin. "Ready to get shopping, aren't we, Lis?"

"I want to get a wand first," Elise told Aurora and Callidora.

"Elise," her mother warned again, with a disapproving frown.

"I'm sure that works fine," Aurora said, after a nervous glance at Callidora. The elder witch seemed to be trying very hard to hide her disapproval of Elise's manner. "Ollivander's it is then — he makes the best wands in the world," she added to Elise, who grinned.

"Good," she said, then made a move as if to lead the way, before remembering that she did not know the way. "Er."

Aurora stifled a laugh. "I'll do the honour, shall I? There's a whole process to enter the alley, I'll show you."

If any of the adults were put off by this leadership, they did not show it. Charles and Eleanor were utterly lost, and Marius mostly so, and Callidora and Cedrella seemed to recognise what she was doing, positioning herself as Elise's introduction to the Wizarding world properly. The girl clung to her side, staring around in wonderment at everything and everyone they passed on their way to the back doors and the little square where the wall to the alley stood. Aurora tapped out the appropriate bricks, and stepped back to watch the look on Elise's face as they moved apart and revealed the alley beyond.

She did not disappoint.

Her face changed from curiosity to wonderment to astonishment to sheer and utter delight as she stepped forward and beheld the bright storefronts, the buzz of magic and soaring pixies, the grand glittering front of Gringotts bank at the top of the street. "Woah," Elise said, mouth still hanging open as she turned to Aurora. "This is like…" Seemingly, she could not find a word adequate.

"I know," Aurora said with a little laugh, then tipped her head towards the alley. "Shall we?"

Elise skipped on ahead, which they all took to mean yes. "Sorry if she's a little excitable," Eleanor said quietly to Aurora as Callidora went to answer Elise's question about wizarding robes.

"I imagine any muggle would be, finding out magic exists." Aurora smiled carefully. "And she's sweet — I really don't mind."

"Auntie Callie says the wand shop's up here!" Elise called back to them, not taking note of the looks that lingered over them. Aurora resisted the urge to chastise her for drawing attention; she could not bring herself to pull down Elise's mood, even if it twisted her nerves to think people were watching, judging them. "Mum, Dad, come on, I want to see it!"

Aurora hurried after her, quite alarmed by the way she careened off into the crowd of people. Her parents seemed the same, hastening along the alleyway, their Muggle clothes still drawing looks, especially when they were beside her.

Elise stopped dead outside Ollivanders' and let out a small, excited squeal. "This is the one, right?" she asked, turning sharply to Aurora with a grin on her face. Her cheeks were pink and her eyes bright with excitement. "The wand shop?"

"It has wands in the window," Aurora pointed out. "Yes."

"Well, if I hadn't checked, and I was wrong, that would have been really embarrassing, so."

Aurora supposed that was true enough. She shrugged her shoulders and said, "Ollivander's a bit of an odd fellow, you should be warned. But he's nice enough, just slightly… Off-putting." Callidora, who had caught up just enough to hear this last part, nodded.

"I've a yew wand," she said, with a glimmer of pride. "He told me I would bring carnage. Mind, this Ollivander was only an apprentice at the time, to his father — though he told me the dragon heartstring combination meant I was temperamental myself, and needed to sort out my emotions to make my magic work properly."

"And did you?" Elise asked, unfazed by this revelation.

"I think so — I also think the Ollivander's' words should be taken with a pinch of salt. The dramatic flair is hereditary, apparently."

"I wonder what he'll say to me?" Elise asked brightly, with a tone of wonder which carried her across the threshold. Aurora, still bewildered by the girl's energy, followed, the adults behind them.

"I guess we'll find out," said her mother, rather bemused as she entered the dusty little shop. "Gosh — Elise, where—"

Elise poked her head round from behind a shelf lined with boxes of wands, grinning. "There's so many of them!"

From behind another shelf, Aurora could hear Ollivander's soft voice as he talked another child through their wand buying process. "Get back here," Eleanor hissed, cheeks pink as her daughter giggled and skipped over. "Honestly!"

"This is so cool," Elise whispered to Aurora. Her eyes were still filled of awe and fantasy. "Where is the wandmaker?"

"I believe he's with somebody else just now," Aurora said, "but he won't be long."

At that moment, Ollivander came out from the shadows, a family of five behind him; a mother and father, two sons and a daughter, who was clutching a box tightly in her arms. The girl, of red hair and bright cheeks, gave them a curious look. Ollivander's gaze swept over Aurora with amusement.

"I shall be with you in a moment," he said, gaze landing on Elise. "Lady Black."

The parents of the family before them exchanged curious, loaded glanced. Aurora smiled tightly, squaring her shoulders. She caught Elise's frown, confused, and of the taller of the two boys looking at her in recognition. He was likely going into second year, possibly third, but she didn't recognise her. He seemed to think he knew her though, narrowing his eyes in suspicion. She only tried to make her smile brighter and kinder, and appear unbothered.

Once they had left at last, Ollivander turned to the Black family. "Callidora Longbottom," he said with an eerie smile. "It has been a while. Such a tragedy, your husband's death."

Callidora smiled thinly. "It was forty years ago, but thank you for your condolences."

Cedrella and Marius exchanged tense glanced, but Ollivander's gaze had already flicked away. "Cedrella — Weasley now, isn't it? Acacia, unicorn hair, ten inches. Rather sturdy wand. Of course, you two could not be more different — Callidora's yew, phoenix feather. Eight inches, not bad. Quite sprightly. And Aurora." At the sound of her name, she blinked, feeling a rather ominous sinking in her stomach. "Hawthorn — the same as your cousin Draco, if I remember rightly—" he did, of course "dragon heartstring core, eight and a half inches. A little springy, but not overly so. As for the rest…"

"This is my cousin Marius," Callidora said, "and his son, daughter-in-law, and granddaughter, Elise. She is who we are here for today."

"Yes." A curiosity glimmered in his eyes. "I know."

Aurora shifted uncomfortably. Elise frowned, looking to Marius, who urged her forward. "Come now — no need to be nervous. I have sold more wands than I could ever dare count, and I'm certain we shall find your perfect match today, yes?"

Elise nodded, though wrung her hands together, as though afraid to touch anything else. "I'll try a hawthorn one first — it seems popular with the family. These things happen, though they don't always work the way one expects. Wands are tricky things, Miss Black — it will choose you and not the other way about. Now, here you go!"

Aurora had barely even noticed him picking a box up; indeed, she was half-certain that he hadn't, and instead summoned it wordlessly. Elise's eyes lit up as she tried the wand he held out, and brought down a whole shelf.

"It worked!" she said, but Ollivander whisked it out of her hand.

"No, no — it's not supposed to do that!"

"But it did something!"

"This one," Ollivander said, plucking another box from the shelf. "Hazel, unicorn hair, nine inches."

The hazel wand made a lampshade shatter; the next three had the respective results of cracking floorboards, setting Ollivander's hair on fire — this he fixed with a quick douse of water — and causing Callidora's heels to unbuckle. It was, in the end, a sixth wand which proved successful, giving Elise a gentle golden glow about her, accompanied by a low hum of energy.

"Black walnut and phoenix feather," Elise said cheerfully as they left the shop, echoing what Ollivander had said. "Do you think that's a good combination?"

Ollivander had told them to watch out for any impending self-existential crises.

"I suppose so," Aurora said, though she really knew very little about wandlore. "It's a rarer wood, I believe. But phoenix feathers are very powerful — the wand must know you've potential, if it chose you."

This seemed to please Elise immensely, and she went back to inform her parents of this as Aurora led the way to Madam Malkin's, the first of their long list of shops. Madam Malkin was the natural opposite to Ollivander — Aurora could see a slight glimmer of surprise when Elise introduced herself, but she made no note of it and merely took the two girls' measurements, making idle chatter and sensible observation. Aurora and the adults all preferred this; Elise, on the other hand, later decried Malkin as 'a bit boring' and 'not very witch-like, really, apart from the clothes and the funny tape'.

Next was an assortment of supplies; ingredient scales, potion knives and cauldron, Elise's telescope and Herbology gloves. They went into Quality Quidditch Supplies last of all; a treat to Aurora as much as to Elise. The new Cleansweep Seven had just been released, though Elise was most disappointed when reminded she was not allowed her own broom yet.

"I suppose flying's a bit like cycling," she said to Aurora as they looked through the broom catalogue, as if Aurora had any comparative experience of cycling. "Is it?"

"I… It's possible?"

"It isn't really," Cedrella said helpfully from behind, holding a pair of gloves. "You don't have to pedal on a broomstick, and there's nothing to steer with except yourself."

"Hmm." Elise skipped onwards to the section bearing Quidditch League merchandise. "Do you have helmets?"

"Why would we need helmets?"

Eleanor stared at her. "Don't tell me Hogwarts don't give the children helmets."

"No?"

Apparently, the concept of their daughter being several feet in the air without something to protect her head was nightmarish; Aurora was for her part, confused that Muggles wore helmets even while on the ground, but did concede that helmets could prevent a lot of head injuries and, once one had it pointed out, were actually quite sensible when there was a high risk on head-on collision. The family won Aurora round to that argument somehow over the course of the afternoon, before they headed to Florean Fortescue's ice cream parlour to finish up. It was there, while debating the merits of their different political systems with Eleanor — who gave her some truly fascinating information about the concept of a constitutional monarchy — that Aurora watched the Malfoy family walk through the door, with Pansy in tow.

She froze, completely blocking out Eleanor's words, as she took in the sight of the seven of them; Draco, Narcissa, Lucius, Abraxas, and Pansy with her arm tucked into Draco's, flushed with the excitement of her own inclusion, the way Aurora had once been at feeling part of something. Draco met her eyes, a frown furrowed. Elise, who was sat beside her, caught the angle of her gaze and turned.

"Who's that?"

Aurora sucked in a breath. Callidora turned, glancing over at them, and let out a low scoff. "The Malfoys."

Cedrella kept her gaze trained firmly on the table. Elise looked at Aurora expectantly, and she said softly, "My cousins. Best not to stare at them."

It was too late. Narcissa had already caught sight of her, and, following her gaze, so had Pansy. Her friend's eyes went wide, her face blanched, and within a moment all of them had settled their gazes upon her and the people all gathered around the table; Marius and Eleanor and Charles' Muggle clothes, Elise's Madam Malkin bag and her clear eleven-year-old face, Cedrella the exile and Callidora the hermit.

The ice cream suddenly tasted too sweet, and though it was cold it only seemed to make the air around her feel too warm, suffocatingly. Her throat clogged for a moment, as she tried to drag her gaze away from the Malfoys. Abraxas caught her looking and raised his eyebrows. The look wasn't as malicious as it might have been, but it was still unsettling. It was like a warning.

"Aurora." It was Narcissa's voice that rang out across the store, surprising her. It seemed to surprise Draco, too; he looked nervously between his mother and his father as though afraid the latter would have sharp words for them. But Lucius remained tight lipped and went to order with his father. The shopowner gained a nervous expression as he dealt with them; tense words were spoken, hushed, too intense and too length to have been only an order for ice cream. "Good afternoon, dear."

Her eyes were sharp, her gaze critical as she took in the scene before her. Aurora tried not to wither beneath it, aware of every misplaced hair and loose thread and oddity of her companions. "Good afternoon, Narcissa," she managed to say, dipping her head. "How are you?"

"Splendid — we thought we would take Draco and Miss Parkinson out for the day, get a break from this terribly hot weather we've been having."

"Oh." Her voice was faint to her ears, accompanied by a faint ringing. "How lovely."

"Our thoughts exactly." Narcissa's smile was strained as she looked around. Cold grey eyes landed on Elise, and the smile strained further. "Who is this young lady?"

"Elise," Elise said before anyone else could stand a hope of getting a word in. "I'm Aurora's cousin."

Narcissa's face paled. "A cousin? On… On your mother's side?"

It was possibly the first time Narcissa had even acknowledged the fact that Aurora had a mother at all, and so she found herself rather stuck for words while getting her head around that.

"Aurora's father's side," Callidora said with a cold look. "Narcissa. I haven't seen you in years."

"Of course, Aunt Callidora — I'm sorry, I did not quite recognise you there. And is this dear Cedrella?"

Narcissa was verging on green now. Aurora rather felt the same. "Of course," Cedrella said coldly, "don't tell me you don't recognise me. You and Septimus used to be so well-acquainted."

"Hm, well… I only came to see Aurora. It has been weeks since I saw you. Lady Greengrass told me her grandson thought you looked splendid at Merlin's Day."

"Oh, really?" Aurora flushed. "Daphne didn't say anything."

"Your Daphne has always been rather scatter-brained, dear. Anyhow — I shall have to see if I can arrange for you to have tea with us some day in August. I have missed our chats, and there is clearly a lot I need to catch up on."

Aurora doubted that was a genuine offer, and yet, worried that it might be. "Yes, certainly. I would enjoy that."

Narcissa smiled brightly, as Draco called her over, looking rather anxious. The elder Malfoys were already headed out the door. "I'll see you soon, Aurora." Her cold gaze roamed over the table, her smile thin. "Enjoy your day out."

Aurora did not manage to breath right until she had swept out of the door, and all of them had disappeared round the corner. That horrible feeling sank into her chest, like she had been supplanted, and yet, somehow, Narcissa still reached for her. Why, she did not know, but she did not think it could be anything good.

She was only too glad to wrap up the shopping spree; Cedrella's mood had evidently soured ever since the Malfoys walked in, and Aurora had been put in a self-pitying mood which she did not like to be pulled out of. Elise did not seem fazed, though Aurora was not sure how much of it was just a front and determination to see through the excitement of the day. She hoped it was genuine. And yet, she feared, if Aurora let such an interaction rattle her because of Elise, it would only be worse at school. And she could not let Elise see that, because it wouldn't be fair. And it was silly. She didn't want to care about Narcissa's dismissive coldness or Lucius's scrutiny or Draco's wariness.

She especially did not want anybody to know that she cared.