Aurora was awoken at three in the morning by the sound of shouting across the corridor. For a moment she forgot where she was, forgot about Potter, and had flung on her night robe and grabbed her wand, halfway to the bedroom door before the voice familiarised.

His shouting was loud and high and desperate: "No, no, don't — you can't please — Mum, Dad!" The sound cut into the silent night, and Aurora sat with a tight chest, frozen in her bed, uncertain of what to do. His terror was palpable, but she didn't know if he would react worse if she were the one to wake him up. "He's going… He's going… Stop, I have to stop him!"

There was silence, only permeated by the pounding of Aurora's heart. Tentatively, and rather concerned by the sudden silence, she slipped from her room, tiptoeing across the landing just as her father began to thunder down the stairs. He skidded to a halt, a look of surprise on his face as he took her in. Aurora rolled her eyes and tentatively opened the door to Potter's room, wand held tightly in her hand.

He was alone in the room, which was a relief. Though the wards hadn't been set off, there was still the small chance that someone had gotten in to hurt him. But it was just a nightmare that had him thrashing about and tossing and turning in his tangled bedsheets, a sheen of sweat on his forehead. Before Aurora could make another move towards him, her father was pushing past her to Potter's bedside, crouching down beside him and lightly shaking his shoulder.

"No!" Potter's voice came out high and panicked. "No, please!"

"Harry," her father said lowly, "Harry, wake up, it's alright. It's just me." He shook his shoulder gently again. "Harry—"

Potter jolted awake, flinging an arm out as he did so. It almost hit Aurora's father in the face, as Potter scrambled around to get his bearings and grab his wand from the bedside table. Aurora's father switched the lamp on, flooding the room with bright light which had Aurora cringing away, staring back at the darkness of the landing.

"Harry," he repeated softly, "you're alright."

"Sirius—" Whatever Potter had been about to say fell away from him. Aurora turned back to meet his eyes, and he swallowed tightly. "I… I'm sorry. I didn't mean to wake you."

"You were having a nightmare, weren't you?"

He nodded, but averted his gaze. Aurora hung back, uncertain of herself, and folded her arms. "It… Yeah."

"Have they been frequent?" He nodded again. "Was it about Voldemort, coming back?" Pain flickered across Potter's face, and he turned away again, shoulders tensing. "Harry—"

"It's just a memory," he said breathlessly. Aurora could tell by his voice that he was fighting tears. "Over and over, and I — I keep seeing Karkaroff. How they killed him. Like he did with…"

The words hung unspoken, but everyone knew what he meant. "I'm so sorry," Aurora's father whispered. "Harry, you should have told me—"

"How could I?" he retorted, sharper than Aurora would have liked. "You weren't doing anything else of use."

She could see the words hit her father like a physical blow. He leaned back, blinking rapidly, with an expression like a wounded puppy. "Harry, if I'd have known—"

"You could have known! If you'd come to visit me at all—"

"I'm sorry, but Dumbledore had his orders, and we had to make sure—"

"I don't care," Harry said sullenly. "It's fine, forget it."

"No, it's not fine. Harry, have these nightmares—"

"It's fine!" His voice rose higher still in denial, but he winced, hand going to his scar again. "Just — just go back to sleep. I've been dealing with this all summer, I'm not going to fall apart because of it now."

Aurora couldn't help but to wonder how close he was to falling apart already. Her father glanced back at her, but she had nothing to offer.

"I have some Dreamless Sleep Potion," her father said, "I'll fetch you some just now, though we can't do that all the time. It's very easy to become over-reliant on it. We'll talk about this in the morning. We'll talk about everything."

Potter seemed torn, but shrugged. "Fine." Aurora sighed, looking away. "I — thanks. Thank you. I promise I didn't mean to wake you—"

"You don't have to apologise," Aurora said, with the horrible feeling that for all he had been having these nightmares all summer, he had never had anyone treat him kindly for it yet. "It's not your fault, is it? We're both light sleepers, besides."

"Aurora's right," her father said, with a small and relieving nod of approval. "Harry, none of what has happened is your fault. And you've no need to apologise for the way you've reacted to trauma. Just… I want you to talk to me about these things so that I can help you, alright? You don't have to go through it alone."

Again, all Potter did was shrug. Her father sighed. "Aurora, would you mind fetching the Dreamless Sleep from the medicine cabinet upstairs? I don't want to wake a house elf for it right now."

She also got the feeling he just wanted her out the way, but complied happily. In truth, Aurora didn't know quite what to do. It was clear that Potter needed a gentler touch than she was able to give, and certainly more than she was comfortable giving at all. So she made quite a task out of finding the potion, meandering around the rooms upstairs until she felt sufficient time had passed for Potter and her father to become a little bit more settled. When Aurora did return downstairs, they were talking in low tones, and stopped abruptly. She smiled tensely, setting the potion down on Potter's bedside table and hovering nervously at her father's shoulder.

"I also have some lavender oil," she said, when the sudden quiet became too overwhelming. Both Potter and her father turned to stare at her like this was the most ridiculous thing she had ever said, and she flushed. "It's scent is famously calming. It might help."

"I don't need to calm down," Potter said, frowning.

She shrugged, trying not to be annoyed at his tone. "I just thought it might be of use. It's your choice."

"Thank you, Aurora," her father said.

"I'll be fine," Potter insisted, and they both sighed.

"Alright," Aurora said, "in that case, I'll get back to bed. We do have important things to do tomorrow, remember."

With a nervous nod, she hurried out the room and back to her own, where she lay on the bed in stifled quiet, listening until her father went upstairs again and the house settled around them, before she could drift back to sleep.

-*

At eleven o'clock the next morning, they stood outside Number 12, Grimmauld Place. Potter looked rather unimpressed as he read the note they had given him which would reveal its location.

"It's just a Muggle street," he said, prompting a laugh from Aurora's father.

"Just think very carefully about what you've read, Harry. You'll see it soon enough."

Aurora did wonder what the street must look like without Number Twelve in the middle, what its other inhabitants must think of the house squeezed in the spaces that did not exist to their realities. She wondered if anyone in the square just behind them ever wondered if there was a Number Twelve somewhere, if they half-remembered the original plans, if they told stories about where it had gone, and the glimmer of something strange and darkly magical in the corner of their eye.

Potter let out a small gasp. "Oh."

Aurora smirked. "Welcome to my humble abode."

"How many houses does your family have?"

"Far too many," Aurora's father replied, wrinkling his nose. "This, unfortunately, is the one I was brought up in."

"We considered the other London residence," Aurora explained, "in Kensington, but it was the house where Bellatrix and Andromeda and Narcissa grew up and we worried in case Narcissa could access it. Everything did revert to me, as Head of the House, but Cygnus' will did give a lot of his property to Narcissa and named her as his personal heir, and it was too big a risk, we can't have her knowing. So, anyway — I grew up here, too, for a little while, but we're still working on renovations, so don't disturb anything."

"When Aurora says renovations," her father said drily, "what she means is chucking out all the dark artefacts my parents collected."

"Removing to a safer location for conservation purposes," Aurora corrected primly as they reached the top of the steps, "we are not chucking out anything, no matter what you might prefer. Potter, don't listen to a word he says. There's a lot to do, besides. I'd have to make renovations at some point anyway, and Kreacher has let standards slip somewhat. I had thought I might start with Silver House, but, no matter — welcome," she added, taking ahold of the silver, serpent-shaped doorknocker, "and don't talk to the portraits. Especially my grandmother."

"What's wrong with your grandmother?"

"What's right with her," her father muttered.

"She's a bit… Temperamental," Aurora said awkwardly. "You don't want to discover the specifics."

She knocked at the door before entering; normally she would Floo in, but because Harry was discovering the place for the first time, he needed to be invited in and see it for himself.

It was Molly who answered the door, engulfing Potter in a tight, warm hug. "Oh, Harry," she said, rocking him back and forth in her arms. "How are you, dear? You look awfully thin, I'll have to make you a big lunch up — I'll have you back to yourself in no time, don't you worry."

"Harry isn't going to be staying here, Molly," Aurora's father told her as he ushered them all inside. Molly's face fell and she released Harry, who was blushing slightly. "He's going to be living with me and Aurora for the remainder of the summer, unless I have to be called away. I'm going to tell Dumbledore as much — he's my kid, not the Order's."

Molly looked like she was going to retort, but forced her mouth shut. "You can tell that to Dumbledore," she said stiffly, turning away and heading down the hall. Aurora closed the door gently behind them. "Everybody's here already, we were out of our minds with worry last night, not knowing what was going on. It was very reckless of you, you know, you should have waited—"

"I didn't know I'd been called here. I went off Harry's letter and rescued him, as I'm sure you would have done for your children, Molly."

"Well, he isn't your child, is he?" Molly hissed, and her father startled as though he had just been slapped.

"He's my godson." Aurora's father glanced over his shoulder. "My first duty is to him, and to Aurora. That's why I'm here."

Mouth pressed into a thin line, Molly pushed on until they reached the stairs, at which point she shooed Aurora and Harry upwards and dragged her father in the direction of the kitchen. At least she didn't have to get interrogated this time, Aurora thought glumly, leading Harry upstairs.

"I suspect everyone'll be in Ron's room," she told Harry, "or at least he and Hermione will be. Presuming you want to see them, that is. I wouldn't blame you if you didn't, they've been frightfully annoying all summer."

"No," he said, harsh voice, "I want to see them, alright."

Aurora raised her eyebrows but said nothing, leading him along to the room where Ron had been staying. The door was slightly ajar but she could hear hushed voices from within. The moment she creaked the door open, the two figures inside turned, and Hermione came barrelling over to them, practically leaping on Potter.

"Harry!" she cried. "Harry, Harry's here, Ron! I didn't hear you arrive, how are you? Are you alright? Have you been furious with us, oh, I bet you have, our letters were absolutely useless, Dumbledore made us swear not to tell you anything, but we'll have so much to tell you, and you to tell us — Dementors, I just couldn't believe it, none of us could, and you've got a hearing? It's outrageous, they simply can't expel you, I've looked it all up and there's a provision in the Decree for Underage Sorcery—"

"Aurora and Sirius told me about that already," Harry told her, voice stiff and bitter. Aurora leaned against the doorframe, taking a deep breath.

"Oh. Well, they're right of course, you're well within your rights to use magic in a life threatening situation."

"Let him breathe, Hermione," Ronald said from behind her, grinning at his friend as if nothing was wrong at all. Aurora rolled her eyes and he glared at her, a movement that did not go unnoticed by Potter.

"How are you, mate?"

Potter shrugged. "Well I've been stuck in Privet Drive for over a month, with neither of you telling me anything that was going on, so you take a wild guess."

There was an awkward, stiff silence. Aurora inspected her nails, frowning at the chipped corner of her left thumb.

"We wanted to tell you," Ron started tentatively. "But Dumbledore made us promise."

"I know," Harry said dully. "Hermione just said that."

"Oh. Yeah, she did."

Aurora stared at the floor now, wishing another Weasley would come along and rescue her.

"He seemed to think it was best," Hermione said, "Dumbledore, I mean."

"Right."

"I think he thought you were safest with the Muggles."

"Yeah? Have either of you been attacked by the Dementors this summer?"

Aurora hid an amused smirk.

"Well, no, but that's why you've had people from the Order tailing you—"

"Yeah, apart from when Aurora managed to sneak me away under their noses, and oh yeah, the Dementors again! Didn't exactly work out well, did it? I had to look after myself again, like always!"

"Dumbledore was furious when he found out," Hermione said pleadingly, as if that would make everything alright, as if righteous anger could amend every wrong. "When he found out Mundungus left his shift early, he was furious. He hid it for us, but Ron's father said it was frightful."

"Well, I'm glad Mundungus left," Potter said, stepping inside and almost letting the door slam on Aurora, who startled. "Turns out all I needed to do was tell Sirius I'd been attacked by Dementors and he was there in a flash — not that Dumbledore had any part to play in that though, from the sounds of it."

"He was going to send the Order to bring you here," Ron said quickly, "but Sirius beat him to it, didn't he? And it all worked out!"

"Worked out? Worked out? I could have had my soul sucked out before anyone did anything — anyone but Black, who to be honest, was the last person I'd expected to do anything for me!"

"I'm full of surprises," Aurora drawled.

Ronald glared at her. She raised her eyebrows in challenge.

"We would have come to see if you we could, Harry."

"Oh, and you think you couldn't have? Aurora managed it!"

"Dumbledore wouldn't let us — and you should have heard the bollocking she got off Mum for that! It'd have been worse if it was us!"

"Oh, so you're scared of your mum, now, are you?" Potter shot back, cheeks reddening. "You've been holed up here listening to everything she and Dumbledore tell you to do all summer, have you?"

"Don't talk about my mum like that!"

"Harry," Hermione broke in, sensing a fight. "That's not the big problem right now." Aurora scoffed. "Aren't you worried about your hearing?"

"Well it's like you said, life threatening circumstances, and Dudley already knew. There's an exception in the statue of secrecy for family members."

"I told him that," Aurora said smugly, at Granger's surprised expression. "You know, since no one else would."

"Stop stirring—"

"What I want to know," Potter said, swaying on the balls of his feet, a sure sign of his nervous energy, "is why Dumbledore's so keen to keep me in the dark. You didn't get a chance to ask him, did you?"

The one thing Aurora couldn't answer. She wasn't even sure if her dad knew, and she didn't fully believe the reasons Dumbledore had been giving her all summer.

"We told Dumbledore we wanted to tell you," Ronald said, in the slow, careful tone one might use upon encountering a wolf. "We did, but he's been really busy. We've barely seen him and he hardly spoke to us, just told us to swear not to tell you anything in case any owls got intercepted."

"He could've still kept me informed of he wanted to. Dumbledore can communicate without owls, he isn't stupid. What then — does he think I can't take care of myself? That I can't get involved with this, that I can't be trusted?

"Don't be thick," Ron Weasley said shortly, and Aurora winced, knowing exactly how that was going to set Potter off.

"I'm not thick!" his voice rang out. "How else do you explain that I have to stay at the Dursleys' for weeks, with only bloody Black bothering to tell me anything that's going on and still being useless!" That stung, but Aurora held back the urge to tell him off. No, she wanted to watch this, wanted to know how Potter really felt and thought, and a sadistic part of her wanted to see him biscerate his friends for their uselessness. "How come you all get to join in everything that's going on here and you're allowed to know everything that's going on?"

"We're not," Weasley interrupted him. "Mum doesn't tell us anything or let us in on meetings. She says we're too young—"

"So what?" Potter yelled. "You've still been here, haven't you? The two of you have been happy and together here and me? I've been stuck on my own for weeks, and I've handled more than either of you, or Black, or probably half the people in the Order! And Dumbledore knows it, and you know it too!

"Who was it who saved the Philosopher's Stone? Who got rid of Riddle in second year! Who saved both your necks from the Dementors?"

"I was there, too," Aurora muttered under her breath.

"Oh, don't you get involved, Black," Ronald spat. "You only went and made things worse!"

"Don't get on at her," Potter snapped, "considering she's been more of use to me than either of you have!"

"I'm glad to know I play such a utilitarian role in your life, Potter."

He glared at her, and Aurora briefly considered reminding everybody that if it weren't for their meddling no one would have needed to be saved from the dementors in third year anyway, but Potter was back on his tirade within an instant.

"Neither of you saw Voldemort come back last year." They all shuddered. "I was the one who faced him — on my own, terrified, after being tortured, and I won! And I was the one who had to escape and watch Karkaroff die while trying to save me, after we'd spent all year hating him!

"But, no, why should I get to know anything that's going on? It's not like I've earned it or that I need to know, to, you know, save my life at some point! Why should anyone want to bother to tell me anything?"

"Harry, we wanted to—"

"Well, you can't have wanted to that much, can you? Or you'd have sent me an owl or come to see me or something, but no, Dumbledore says so and you do whatever he tells you because he made you swear—"

"Well, he did—"

"All summer I've been stuck there in Privet Drive and digging papers out of bins to find out what's going on! All summer and the only person telling me anything is Aurora! Not you two, not Dumbledore! Did you expect me to just take that?"

"We wanted to tell you—"

"I bet you've been having a right laugh, haven't you? Holed up here together, having a great time?"

"Harry, we're really sorry," Granger's desperate whine broke through. "You're completely right, Harry. I'd be furious if it were me."

Aurora rolled her eyes. There it was, the predictable Hermione Granger need to please everyone and make Potter happy.

Yet, he was somewhat placated. "It doesn't make it better," he said, but at least he wasn't shouting anymore. "You've still been ignoring me. I'm meant to be your mate."

"You are. But the Order… Dumbledore—"

"I know what Dumbledore said, you don't have to repeat it!" He but his tongue, crossed his arms. "When did you all get here, anyway? I take it your siblings are here."

"Second week of summer," Hermione said, "once Aurora sorted everything. And yes, Ginny and Fred and George are here, and Bill's moved back from Egypt to join the Order, but he's got his own place."

"Percy's holding the fort at the Burrow, then?"

He had put his foot in it. Hermione and Ronald exchanged urgent, uncertain glances. "What? Is he alright?"

"They've all fallen out with him," Aurora told him, bored. "Understandably, mind you. But I wouldn't bring it up around Mrs. Weasley, she might start crying."

"Shut up, Black, this has nothing to do with you."

"I took it as an open question, Weasley."

"Percy's got a promotion at the Ministry," Hermione explained, with tentative looks between them.

"Yeah," Weasley said, "he came home one day, real pleased with himself, to tell us. Reckoned Dad would be dead proud of him, cause of course he'd put it down to taking on all this extra work with the Crouch situation — oh and, Percy's apparently the only one allowed to speak to Crouch, which is definitely dodgy and he's pretending it isn't, even though apparently Crouch hasn't said anything at all — but Dad didn't take it that way. Reckons Percy got promoted 'cause Fudge wants to keep a closer eye on us."

"You think he's suspicious about the Order?"

"Probably. Percy's got a job in Fudge's personal office, see, and a really good one for someone only a year out of Hogwarts, he's Assistant to the Minister. But Dad wasn't impressed, apparently Fudge has been storming about the Ministry, checking no one's in contact with Dumbledore. If they have, basically, he reckons they may as well clear their desks. Dad thinks they'll come for the Assembly soon. And, he thinks Fudge suspects him, he knows they're friendly and he thinks it's weird how Dad's into Muggle stuff."

"What's that got to do with Percy?"

Aurora had to laugh. How he could be so dense, she did not know.

"Well, Dad reckons Fudge only wants Percy in his office to act like a spy — on us, and on Dumbledore. And this did not go down well with Percy, obviously, he went completely mental, said loads of terrible stuff. Like how he's been having to struggle against Dad's lousy reputation ever since he got into the Ministry, and Dad's got no ambition and that's why we've always been, you know, not exactly for a lot of money—"

"What?"

"I know! And it got worse, he said Dad was an idiot to be running about with Dumbledore, he was headed for big trouble and Dad'd go down with him, and that he — Percy — knew his loyalties lay with the Ministry and if Mum and Dad were gonna become traitors then he was going to make sure everybody knew he wasn't part of our family anymore. So now he's packed his bags and left. He's living in London now, Mum went to visit and he slammed the door in her face and she's in a right state ever since, crying and all that. I dunno what he does when he sees Dad at work. Suppose he just ignores him."

"But Percy must know Voldemort's back. If he's talking to Crouch, too."

"Sounds like he hasn't gotten much out of him. Not that he'd be asking the right questions anyway… Ministry line is Crouch hasn't shown any signs of consciousness, but I dunno about that one."

"But he'd know your mum and dad wouldn't say that stuff without proof!"

"Yeah, well, your name ended up getting dragged into it…"

"Me?" Potter stared. "What, he thinks four years of knowing me doesn't hold up to the Prophet's blatant lies!"

"How thoroughly have you read the Prophet recently?"

"Enough to know they're not reporting anything of worth!"

Hermione winced. "Thing is, Harry… They're mentioning you a lot. Not in stories about you, so if that's what you've been looking for… No, they just sort of slip you in. A running joke. You know, how if someone gets in an accident they'll say, better hope he's not got a scar or we'll be asked to worship him next."

"I don't want anyone to worship me! Is that what people think, is that what Skeeter's saying?"

"Well… She did characterise you as stand-offish after the Assembly meeting. And, um, that she thought you were mentally unhinged and thought your word should be taken as gospel."

Aurora figured she should have prepared him better for that one. He whirled around to glare at her, as if it was her fault. "She did, did she? I was only trying to do my job, to actually do anything about the situation, cause it doesn't look like the Order's even achieved anything of use except spying on me and trying to make my life miserable all summer! It's not my fault no one wants to listen, it's not my fault Skeeter's a bitch — I didn't ask for any of this!"

"We know, Harry," Hermione pleaded, "but they want to make you into someone no one will believe, they're building on everything Skeeter did last year, for you and Aurora. And I bet Fudge is behind it, they want to discredit you, remember?"

"They're spinning a narrative," Aurora said quietly, looking him in the eye. "They're selling papers and they're probably getting good Ministry gold for it, too."

Just as Potter opened his mouth, there was a loud crack and the twins appeared in the room; George landing on Ron's bed and Fred nearly knocking Aurora over where she was standing. He caught her quickly, grinning, and she swatted his arm away.

"I thought you two were told to stop doing that!"

"Aw, and you do what you're told all the time, don't you, Black?"

"Shut up." She straightened up, glaring at him.

"Fred," Harry said with a small laugh, "George. What was that?"

"Apparition," George explained cheerfully. "Gets you anywhere."

"Ickle Ronnie lives in fear of us turning up in his room with a spider."

"Heard you yelling — good to let things out once in a while, you know?"

"Rita Skeeter really is a bitch, we agree."

"We were just telling Harry about Percy," Ronald said quickly, before Potter could start yelling again.

Both twins' expressions darkened. "Git."

"Better off without him, I say," came a voice from the doorway. Aurora turned, spotting Ginny with her head round the door. She skipped over, winked at Aurora, and sat down next to George, who ruffled her hair. "Don't tell Mum I said that. Actually, don't tell Mum anything about him. She keeps crying."

"He always was the worst of a good bunch," Fred said. "Ron was a close second for a while but I think his position's safe, now. Don't think Mum could take losing another kid."

He said it breezily enough, but Aurora couldn't help but feel a stab of pity for the Weasleys then, the fear they must have for their children and the pain of knowing one of them despised them.

"Have you heard anything on the ears?" Ginny asked, swerving away from the prickly topic. "It sounds like a big meeting."

"My father's being scolded like a schoolchild, I'm sure."

"Probably — Snape and McGonagall are both here."

"Snape?" Potter echoed. "You never said Snape's in the Order! Is he here, right now?"

"Yes, from the sounds of it. My father will absolutely hate that. I'm not a fan of the situation either, but needs must. He doesn't come here often. He knows he's not wanted."

"Bill doesn't like him either," Ginny told Aurora.

"So who is in the Order?" Potter asked. "Obviously Sirius, Tonks, Dumbledore, your parents, Snape and McGonagall… That Mundungus you mentioned. Mrs. Figg…"

"Hestia is," Aurora said, "and Remus. Kingsley Shacklebolt, Moody — he was in it last time, too, as were my dad and Remus. Elphias Doge, Emmeline Vance… It's a pretty long list."

"Most don't come round often, and we've no idea what they're up to. We know they're guarding something, but we can't work out what."

Potter exchanged glances with Aurora. A weapon, they both knew, but she shook her head at him not to say anything.

Just then, George tugged on the Extendable Ear he had brought with him, and jumped to attention to stuff it in his pocket. "Footsteps," he said, and a moment later, Molly Weasley was standing in the door, looking suspicious.

"The meeting's over, you can all come down now. I'm about to make some sandwiches for lunch. Everyone's dying to see you, Harry. And who's been leaving Dungbombs outside the kitchen door?"

"Crookshanks," Ginny said. Aurora was certain she was lying.

"Oh. I thought it might have been Kreacher, he loves doing odd things like that." Aurora tried to ignore that comment. "Now don't knock anything over and keep your voices down in the hall. And Ginny, dear, wash your hands before you eat, they're filthy."

She had definitely been at the Dungbombs, Aurora thought, shaking her head; she knew the girl used them to test the anti-eavesdropping charms put around the meetings. Ginny grinned at her as she went past.

"You better clean the Dungbombs away," Aurora whispered.

"No idea what you're talking about, Black."

There was still a cluster of Order members in the hall when Aurora reached the landing. She tiptoed downstairs quietly, hoping to catch a snippet of conversation. Snape was there in the middle, greasy-haired as ever. For a moment she thought his head titled upwards, but then they all moved along and any chance for eavesdropping or speculation was gone with them.

"Damnit," Fred said from above her. She turned, seeing the Weasleys and Potter and Granger leaning over the bannister, Extendable Ears held out.

"Snape never eats here," Ronald was telling Harry, as they moved quietly toward her.

"And don't forget to keep your voice down, Harry," Hermione said, not doing a very good job of keeping her voice down.

Aurora rolled her eyes at them, tiptoeing down the stairs where Mrs Weasley met them, ushered them toward the kitchen, and then, out the corner of her eye, before she could move to do anything about it, Aurora saw Dora crashing into an umbrella stand.

She braced herself for the screaming, every nerve in her body tensing, and once it started, ringing in her ears, she lurched forward toward the painting.

"Filth! Scum! By-products of dirt and vileness! Halfbloods, mutants, freaks, begone from this place' How dare you set foot in these halls! How dare you defile the halls of my forefathers—"

She yanked the curtains closed and her grandmother blasted them open again, screaming, "You brought them here, you filthy half-blood, I should have known, child of filth, child of—"

"I am Lady Black!" she bellowed back, not for the first time. "You bow to me in this house and you shall treat my guests with the respect I too am bound to treat them with!"

She tugged the curtains across again and this time, her grandmother stayed quiet. The hall was silent.

Panting, heart pounding, still stung from the words she had heard all too often, she turned back around. Her father was watching from along the hall, in the shadows just behind Potter.

She forced a laugh, walking towards her godbrother. "That's why we don't wake Grandmother," she told him breezily.

"That's your gran?" He let out a low whistle. "That explains a lot."

"Shut up, Potter. And Dora — please, for the love of Merlin—"

"I know, I know. Sorry. Sandwiches?"

-*

Eating ham and cheese sandwiches with a mob of Weasleys was not exactly how Aurora pictured herself being back in her childhood home, but it had become a strange new normal over the past weeks. They ate together in a chaotic way, Order members scurrying about and lingering before heading back to work or home. Eventually, as the conversation lulled, Remus spoke up, "So, Harry, I suppose you're wondering what is exactly going on here."

Aurora tried very hard to avoid catching her father's eye.

"Oh. Well, um, Sirius told me some stuff, and Ron and Hermione the rest…"

"Has he now?" Molly gave Aurora's father a stern look.

"He has to know, Molly."

"I thought it was agreed we would explain everything today."

Next to Aurora, Dora sighed and got up to make another sandwich. She didn't look entirely surprised.

"It's not like I know much," Potter said hastily. "Just who you are and why I couldn't come earlier." It was impossible not to hear the bitter notes in his voice. At least, Aurora felt, he had the sense not to reveal everything he knew already, fishing for anything else they might reveal.

"Good," Molly said, "and that's all you need to know."

"I would beg to disagree," Aurora's father said. Molly's face turned stony.

"He's not in the Order—"

"He doesn't need to be in the Order to ask questions. I held off telling him details because I figured you'd deem that problematic, but, there's still a lot he needs to be brought up to date on. Remus agrees, don't you, Remus?"

Remus sighed. "Well… That depends on what you want to tell him, Sirius."

"He doesn't need to know anything more than the very basics."

"But, Mum," pleaded Ginny with wide eyes, "Harry doesn't really know everything about what's going on at Headquarters — we don't even know, and we all really want to."

"And quite right, too. You're all far too young."

"Black knows," Fred said, and Aurora scowled at her dinner plate, cheeks flushing. "Way more than any of the rest of us do, we reckon."

"And I want to know what's Voldemort's really up to," Potter said quickly, to a round of grimaces. "You know, owing to the fact that he's probably up to something that'll get me nearly killed."

"Now, Harry—"

"No, no, Molly," said Aurora's father, eyeing Harry with curiosity. "I knew he'd ask more."

This seemed to annoy Potter further. Really, Aurora felt, he knew plenty already, but they were all right to say that she knew more than them. "I know you haven't told me everything yet," Potter said, and Aurora found herself quietly impressed by the resolve with which he addressed her father. "And I figured I'd better ask here so then we can all get the full story."

Aurora's father looked almost relieved by the opportunity to talk more to Harry about the Order. Aurora wondered if perhaps her father regretted not putting everything into the open immediately, instead of waiting for Harry to ask. Of course there really wasn't much else that he could have told him, and Potter had seemed satisfied last night, but it seemed coming here had thrust everything back out into the open. Now, it seemed, he was in a rather more awkward position.

"Well, Harry, I can tell you whatever you need—"

"That's not fair," George protested at once.

"We have questions too! But it's all 'oh, you're too young' oh, but, Harry and Aurora—"

"It's not my place to decide what you can and can't know," Aurora's father said calmly, though Aurora could tell he was hoping Molly would lighten up. "It's not my fault. But Harry and Aurora are my responsibility and—"

"It's not up to you to decide what's good for Harry!" Molly Weasley snapped, and Aurora turned sharply to face her. Her father straightened as though readying for a fight. "You haven't forgotten what Dumbledore said, I suppose?"

"Which bit?" That forced calm showed Aurora precisely how angry he was.

"About not telling Harry more than he needs to know."

"And I don't intend to tell him more than he needs to know."

"It certainly sounds like it! You already let your daughter run around doing whatever she wants to!"

"Excuse me!"

"Aurora's got an arrangement with Dumbledore, and considering Harry was the one who saw Voldemort come back, I think that if he wants to know then he has a right—"

"He's not a member of the Order of the Phoenix! He's only fifteen and—"

"And he's dealt with as much as people in the Order, and more than some."

"No one's denying what he's done! But he's still—"

"He's not a child!"

"He's not an adult either!" Molly Weasley's voice had grown shrill and impatient. "He's not James, Sirius—"

"I'm perfectly clear on who he is, thanks, Molly."

"I'm not sure you are! I think sometimes you think you've just got your old friend back, and that you're still twenty and don't have any sense of responsibility—"

"Oh yes because raising a child doesn't require any responsibility from me—"

"You didn't raise anyone! You didn't show very much responsibility when you were busy getting yourself locked up in Azkaban!"

"That's enough!" The words left Aurora before she could even realise she was speaking, in a furious rush. "Don't talk to him like that—"

"You act rashly, Sirius," Molly Weasley said. The words may have been less harsh, but the tone was not. Aurora looked at her and seethed. "This is why Dumbledore wanted to wait before bringing Harry here—"

"We'll keep Dumbledore's wishes out of this, seeing as he has now given his permission—"

"Oh, hardly — you forced his hand, and as for your daughter running around doing whatever she pleases without telling anybody—"

"If you're trying to insinuate something about my daughter—"

"I don't have to insinuate anything—"

"Molly," interrupted Arthur Weasley gently, "perhaps we ought to leave that there. I think..." He cleared his throat. "We all know that the situation has changed, now that Harry is living with Sirius and Aurora, and will surely be at Headquarters a lot more. It will be impossible to keep him from overhearing, or getting wind of rumours."

"Well, there's a difference between that and letting him ask whatever he likes!"

Aurora rolled her eyes, and caught Harry's gaze. He appeared rather taken aback, but at her urging nod, said, "Mrs. Weasley? I really don't want to cause trouble. But I think I do deserve to know what's going on, and what you're doing. We're all confused anyway."

Mrs Weasley pursed her lips, annoyed. She turned to Dora for backup, received none, and then looked to Remus and Hestia, both of whom avoided her gaze with a nervous air. "The kids have a point," Hestia said at last, and Molly sighed, setting her cutlery down pointedly on the table.

"Fine," she said, holding up her hands. "Fine — I can see I'm going to be overruled here. I'll just say this: Dumbledore will have his reasons for not wanting Harry to know too much—" whether those may be good reasons or not, Mrs Weasley did not clarify "—and speaking as someone who had Harry's best interests at heart—"

"He's not your son," Aurora's father said quietly, eyeing her with a cold, stony look.

"He's as good as," came Mrs Weasley's fierce retort, and Aurora watched as Harry's cheeks flamed. "Who else has he got?"

"He has me!"

"Yes." Mrs Weasley's lip curled in dislike, and Aurora resisted the urge to fling a plate at her. "Trouble is, it has been rather difficult for you to look after him while you've been locked up in Azkaban."

"Take that back!" Aurora snapped at once, as her father stood from his chair. "That was not my father's fault!"

"Aurora, dear, you may think you're a grown up, but you're too young to understand that a parent—"

"Don't talk to her like that!" her father snapped, furious. "I have been there for Harry as much as I can since I've sorted myself out, and Aurora, and I know damn well what I've messed up in my life—"

"You think letting children run about doing whatever they like constitutes parenting—"

"I do not, but Aurora and Harry are both responsible and capable—"

"Responsible, you have a very skewed perception of what responsible means!"

"Molly," Remus interjected, as both Aurora and her father opened their mouths to shout some more. "You are not the only person at this table who cares about Harry. Sirius, Aurora — sit down."

Her father obliged, but Aurora did not. "This is my house," she reminded Mrs Weasley tightly. "You're only here because I've been gracious to Dumbledore. So do not talk down to my father or try to treat me and my godbrother like children."

Mrs Weasley's face was red, and furious with dislike, but she did not say anything, perhaps because whatever she did have to say was too impolite for the dinnertable with a fifteen year old. When silence had surrounded them for a minute, Aurora let out a breath and sat down, catching her father's eye. His face was white, and his lips pressed together tightly, but when he looked at her, he shook his head. Not the time.

"I think Harry ought to be allowed a say," Remus said gently. "He's old enough to make his own choices."

"I want to know what's going on," Harry agreed at once, to Aurora's relief.

"Very well — Ginny, Ron, Fred, George, Hermione — I want all of you out of this kitchen now. Aurora, you don't need to be here—"

"I'm staying," Aurora said coolly. Even though there was little that could be said to Harry that she did not already know, it was a show of solidarity that kept her there. That, and the fact she knew Mrs Weasley wanted her out because she didn't approve of her, and that her mentioning she didn't need to hear this was just to serve the purpose of driving a wedge between her and the other children. That was what it felt like, anyway.

Her words were lost, though. The other children were protesting loudly; Fred and George were legally adults now, and didn't really need their parents' permission. They were implicitly trusted by the Order anyway, a hair away from being members themselves. She had no reign over Hermione, really, given that she was not her mother. And Ron and Ginny made the sensible argument that anything the others were told, they would pass on anyway. This did not seem to help the case that they were all old enough to be trusted, nor did Harry seem all that pleased with the assumption, but Mrs Weasley was soundly defeated by everyone but Ginny, who sulked and shouted at her mother all the way to her room, setting off the portrait of Aurora's grandmother in the hall.

"I'll get it," she said with a sigh.

Kreacher, who was lurking on the landing, gave her a suspicious stare as she came up to the hallway.

"Your guests are fighting again, Lady Black."

"I know they are."

"Shall I poison anybody?"

"That's the last thing I need," Aurora told him. "It's fine, Kreacher — I'll handle it."

The elf looked displease by this news, but nodded and skulked away silently.

"Please stop screaming, Grandmother," Aurora told the portrait placidly. "It's doing nobody any good."

"You brought them here, disturbing my piece with halfblood scum, I should've turned you out the moment I got you, if I had known you would betray me and everything this family stands for!"

"I am this family," Aurora snapped back, and snapped the curtains shut, before stomping back to the kitchen, heart pounding. She was getting more and more frustrated every time she came back here, more and more uncomfortable with looking at the portrait of her grandmother.

"—we've all been trying to put the word out, but as you may have gathered, it isn't going down well with the Ministry. Dumbledore's already been demoted from his High Warlock position, as you know, and there's rumours he could be voted out as Chairman of the International Confederation of Wizards, too. None of his supporters are too popular at the moment either — Fudge's propaganda is doing its work."

"Hardly anyone even wanted to talk about it when we were at the Assembly," Harry said, "I thought... So people really are just ignoring it? I mean, even MacMillan skirted round the issue."

"People have been told," Aurora's father said grimly, "but the Ministry and Fudge have just made it so they don't want to listen, or are afraid if they admit to it. Crouch can't speak, allegedly, though I would be surprised if the Ministry's choosing to silence him. They've moved him to a different ward at St. Mungo's, claiming his brain's addled and he's not in his right mind. Hestia's been trying to find out what she can, volunteering for extra duties there, but so far we've got nowhere, and we're having to be cautious in the Ministry."

"My own job's already threatened," Arthur explained, "the department's been defunded for years, but Fudge thinks I'm too close to Dumbledore's ideology. Alastor, Tonks, Kingsley, they can't be too outspoken. We need people on the inside."

"And Dumbledore needs to be careful too," Remus said. "There's no telling how far Fudge and his administration might go, especially with their current backing in the Assembly. If Dumbledore goes too far, he could land himself in Azkaban. And if he's out the way, You-Know-Who'll have a clear field."

"But if Voldemort's trying to recruit Death Eaters," Harry said, "surely it'll get out that he's back, one way or another? And what then — they can't ignore it forever."

"You-Know-Who does know how to be subtle," Aurora said as she entered the room. Harry looked up sharply, eyebrows raised. "He and his followers know the circles they can operate in, and they know how to win — or force — people to their side. People who won't or can't turn to anybody else."

"Voldemort's well-practiced at operating in secret", her father agreed, as she sat down. He gave her an approving look before turning back to Harry and continuing, "Besides, gathering followers isn't the only thing he's interested in. He has other plans too, plans he can put into place very quietly indeed, and he's focusing on those for now."

"But what…" Potter stopped himself at Aurora's cautious look. "So, he's after… A weapon?"

The corners of her father's mouth tweaked up. Potter was an awful liar; Remus narrowed his eyes, suspicious of his tone and hesitance.

"Well, we think—"

"Enough," Molly interrupted from the doorway. "They don't need to know that — that's confidential."

"Oh, they've barely gotten started—"

"The children have all heard quite enough. Any more and they might as well be inducted into the Order now."

"Why not? I don't care if I'm too young, I've fought him before and I'll fight him again."

"Brave as you are," Remus said this time, "there are great dangers involved, I think Molly's right, Sirius. We've said enough."

Aurora's father shrugged. "Her kids can go then."

"You cannot tell Harry and Aurora whatever you like, Sirius!"

"And I haven't." Though it was clear, nobody wanted them to know about the weapon. Other things, like Crouch, and the Ministry's activity, could be speculated on, but the weapon was different, unknown. As Molly said, confidential.

The children, one by one, acknowledged defeat, heading up to their own rooms. Aurora, dying for a full debrief on whatever she had missed, followed them, though not before exchanging a significant look with her father that she wanted to talk. Fitful whispers broke out in the kitchen behind them.

"You sure don't know what weapon they're after?" Harry whispered as they ascended the stairs. She shook her head. "I know you know more than the rest of us. Sirius was even vague on that. It's big, isn't it?"

"I don't know," she said, which wasn't technically a lie; she just had a fairly strong idea. "I figure my dad'll tell us if we need to know. You saw what he's like; the rest might keep secrets, but he wants us to be prepared. Especially you."

He still didn't look satisfied, but it was enough to tide him over for now.

"Thanks for that," he added reluctantly, when they stopped outside her room. "Sticking up for me. Us, really."

She shrugged. "It was going to be a nuisance lying to you all anyway. Besides — you've a right to know. If it were me, I'd be furious."

There was a faint, grateful smile on his face. "Well. Cheers, Black."

"I thought it was Aurora now?"

"Yeah — Aurora."

"Come on, you two." Mrs Weasley, having caught on to their conversation, looked back at them, and gave Aurora a stern look. "There's been enough chit-chat; we have to have an adult discussion in the kitchen."

"You've already had a meeting," Ron muttered.

"You should know not to gossip," Molly reminded Aurora in a low tone after Harry had passed her to talk to Ron and Hermione. "You're in a very privileged position and the other children do not need to know more than they have already been told. If it were up to me, then—"

"Respectfully, Molly—" Aurora whipped around at the sound of Hestia Jones' voice from behind them, startled "—it isn't up to you what Aurora does or says. That's up to her, and Sirius, and on occasion, Dumbledore."

Mrs Weasley's cheeks reddened, but she daren't say to Hestia what she might've to Aurora herself or to her father; she had no ammunition, and perhaps thought it in bad taste to argue with the best friend of Aurora's own late mother. "Well, anyway — the rest of the children need to cool off. I've got lots of cleaning for them to do later."

"I'm sure you have," Hestia said falsely, and Aurora tried not to be amused by it. "You don't mind if I talk to you for a minute though, Molly, do you? I'm sure the children can find their rooms themselves. And Aurora — your dad wants you. You too, Harry."

Whether or not that was true or a convenient way to get her away from Mrs Weasley, Aurora didn't really care, and gladly called goodbye to the others before hurrying back downstairs to the kitchen.

"I'm going to head home for the afternoon," her father said. "I don't like staying in this place too long — it makes me antsy. You two can stay if you want, or come back with me."

"Potter wants to gossip with his friends," Aurora said, as the boy fidgeted beside her and shot her a dirty look. Her father's lips quirked up in amusement.

"You're more than welcome to, Harry."

He considered it a moment, glancing over his shoulder at the kitchen door. "I mean, I haven't seen them in about a month..."

Aurora rolled her eyes. "Told you."

"Well, I haven't—"

"It wasn't a criticism."

He huffed and muttered, "Yeah, right."

"It really wasn't! I'm allowed to make observations. But I want to go home with you, Dad, if that's alright. I can't stand some of the people here."

"I might come back later," Harry said in a small voice, "to Arbrus Hill, if that's alright?"

"Course it is, Harry," her dad said. "We'll be in all day. And, any other questions… There are some things that are confidential, but I will try to answer as best I can. Just don't tell the other children, if it gets back to Molly, she'll have my head and Aurora's."

"I'm sure we'll do something else to upset her at some point," Aurora said with a sigh. Potter shifted uncomfortably. "See you later, Potter. Try not to start any fights."