Aurora sought Graham out the next day at lunch, managing to catch him without Cassius or Bletchley hanging about, and swiftly convincing him to follow her out the Great Hall and down the quiet corridor to the dungeons. "This is about yesterday, I take it?" he asked her drily as they left the hall, passing a gaggle of younger students who stared at her as they passed. Aurora felt her cheeks burn at the attention, the critical gazes.

"Of course it is." She swallowed tightly. "How much did Cassius tell you after he walked me to the castle?"

"Not much," Graham said hesitantly. "Seemed a bit shifty about it, to be honest. Why?"

"I just — well, we had an argument, it's fine. But I want you to know that I am fully committed to the team."

"I know that," Graham said with a short, confused laugh. "No one doubts that. You bought yourself a bloody Firebolt to prove a point: if anything, you're too stubborn not to be committed to the team at this point."

"Right. So, I — you're not going to kick me off or anything right?"

"Course I'm not," he scoffed, "but, I really, really don't want my hand forced."

By Draco — by his father and Lucius's apparent friendship with Umbridge. Aurora nodded, resigned, even as it nettled at her. "Listen, this isn't what I want to have to be telling you," Graham said. "You're my mate, and you're a brilliant player. But I think you know, when you're being sensible, that what's going on here is way bigger than any of us. I'll fight your corner, if it comes to it, 'course I will — but don't make me have to? I don't wanna end up losing that fight, Black."

"Right," she said, swallowing tightly against the lump in her throat, formed of both anger and gratitude at what Graham was saying. "You can't just, you know, kick Draco off for calling my mother a mudblood?"

Graham's eyes widened. "That's what he said to you?" She nodded. "Shit, he never told us—"

"Of course he wouldn't, he wouldn't be able to play the victim otherwise."

"Have you told Snape?"

"Of course I haven't told Snape, he'd turn round and tell me to quit whining."

For a moment, Graham looked lost for words, and stood in silence as he considered her. Aurora folded her arms, squirming under his gaze. "What?"

"Give me some time, Black. I need to figure something out."

"Figure what out?"

"You two aren't going to be able to resolve your differences, are you? And there's not much I can do short of physically banging your heads together and hoping you knock out all the memories of the last month. Just — gimme a few days. What else did he say?"

Her cheeks flamed at having to recount the memory, at knowing she was bound to upset herself again just by doing so. "Mostly personal stuff. Really. Although he did say he thinks my mother deserved to die. 'Cause she was a muggleborn."

Graham's face coloured instantly, his eyes flashing with anger that was quickly cooled, as though he had learned to do so. "I'll talk to him."

"I don't want trouble."

"Yeah, you do. Being a goody-two-shoes doesn't suit you, Black." He sighed, though it turned out more of an annoyed grunt. "Don't worry 'bout it. Your ankle's good to fly, right?" She nodded. "Good. That's all I need from you. I'm Captain, I'll deal with my team."

"Even Draco."

"I believe in equality."

"Do you?"

"I believe you're all equally subordinate to me."

Aurora laughed, relaxed by Graham's approach. "Well, thank you." Considering how things had gone with Cassius, she considered this had ended up rather well. "Captain."

"Don't push it."

"Aye, aye," she said, grinning, and Graham shoved her shoulder. "Thanks, though."

"Don't get sappy, Black. Shove off and read something boring."

-*

Draco didn't say a word to her the next week, though Aurora was glad of that. It meant she could relax somewhat, not even feeling his gaze so often. Quidditch practices were few and far between as the weather worsened in early December, and so Aurora managed to make it along to an extra few ballet classes with Leah, who was working on choreographing for a summer showcase. On the way out of their class, both boiling despite the draughty castle, Leah explained to Aurora her vision for the performance, which involved carefully colour-coordinating costumes, terrifying acrobatics, classical variations of Weird Sisters music, and apparently, pyrotechnics.

"And then I think if we separate into two groups," she said, flapping her hands about in such a way to suggest she was moving invisible dancers around a stage before her, "we can have a turn section and then an allegro, and then fall back together at the final chorus… But I'm not so sure what to do there, there'll be a lot of travelling, I'll figure it out — d'you think we could try partnering?"

"With the three boys in that group, they'd have to do quite a bit of heavy lifting."

"Obviously not everyone — but say me and Anthony, Rachel and Matin, and you and Blaise?"

"Blaise and I would be a disaster," Aurora said with a shiver, watching the boy in question chat to Matin Richards as they made their way down the corridor towards the dungeons.

"He fancies you."

"I know," Aurora said with a groan. "He snogged me. Though I'm still not sure how much of that was genuine."

Leah rolled her eyes. "Well, the chemistry might be off in that case. I'd go with Blaise and you with Anthony, he's a bit shorter anyway so the heights'll work better, I think that'd look good, and then we could have the rest come in at different times…" She lapsed off, lost in thought, as they turned down the stairs.

"I think whatever you come up with will be brilliant," Aurora said helpfully. "And the pyrotechnics will help."

"I like the whole mashup of ballet and like, actually being cool?"

"Ballet is cool!"

"Yeah, but you know what I mean, people who don't like it don't say that. And everyone likes the Weird Sisters, and everyone wants to see fire."

"They want to see fire go wrong."

"You're being a bit pessimistic."

"Fireworks would be a step up, though. A whole light show outside—"

"Oh!" Leah flapped her hands about suddenly, excited as a thought came to her. Aurora blinked and narrowly dodged being slapped. "I forgot to ask you, Mother needs to send out invitations — do you have plans for Hogmanay? New Years Eve?"

"Not that I know of?"

"Good." Leah grinned with relief. "We're hosting our annual party — drinks and ceilidh and fireworks, and then general adult mingling that we can probably run away from around one in the morning — but my father wants to invite you, and your father, and Harry Potter, and of course I've been sent to scope it out." She rolled her eyes. "Not that I don't want you to come, I do, I need someone fun around, but don't feel like you have to come. It would be fun though."

It felt like a sudden lifeline had been thrown her way, that even when she had felt she had been sinking the past few weeks, all was not lost. She was not a pariah, she was not hated by every lord, and she knew that Leah's family and their associates were closely aligned to her own views. The idea of returning into society scared her, for it would be a new political landscape — or at least, she would have a new position within it — but it would be a good one.

"I'll see," she said quietly, still rather taken aback by the offer. "My father and Potter will likely not be so inclined to join, but I might."

"Sure," Leah said with a grin, "I'll tell my mother she can invite you all, but just so you know, it'll mainly be people from our party, or father's friends, and we have very good security, so Potter needn't worry about anything around that."

Something told Aurora that Leah had been very well briefed on what to tell her. Nevertheless, she was glad to be consoled. "Good," she said, smiling. "I'll let them know."

"Please do come," Leah told her, "or I might cry from boredom if I'm stuck with my brother and his friends all night."

"I have to say you're not really selling it to me well right now."

Laughing, Leah shook her head, tossing her hair as she did so. They slipped into the common room, as Leah said, "I promise it will be fun. My mum loves hosting parties, she's trying to get this bubble band in for the year — they play music through specially enchanted bubbles."

"How does that work?"

"No idea. To be honest I'm not convinced that it does, but she thinks it's the next big thing in entertainment and she'll never listen to any of us saying otherwise. She'll find some way to make it work, I'm sure." She sighed dramatically, sinking down onto a sofa in the corner of the room, near a warm fireplace. "My father's very concerned about everything going to plan. Politics and friendship — though obviously he won't explain anything about it to me. I have to debrief from Ernie after he gets a letter, and he doesn't think I deserve to know anything either."

"If it helps, he's probably trying to avoid putting sensitive information in more letters than necessary."

"No, he just doesn't think communicating with his daughter is necessary," Leah said, wrinkling her nose, "unless it's to remind me about marriage prospects. Amelia Bones doesn't worry about marriage prospects, but of course, I'm the daughter of Lord MacMillan, I must marry well and think of nothing but boys and dresses and nothing as difficult and complicated as politics."

"I'm sensing you're not too happy about that."

Leah sighed loudly and tilted her head back. "I know way more than Ernie does. I understand more of what's going on, and I actually want to learn instead of spouting off stupid opinions and thinking I'm God's gift to the Earth. But I'm just a girl," she said with a sneer, and a fake smile. "Anyway — if you come, it'll be a lot better."

"I'll see what I can do," Aurora promised, but she felt that going to the party would be good for her, too. And, from the look on Leah's face, her friend really would either be bored stiff or on the brink of fighting someone if she was left on her own. "And if it's any consolation, if I bring my dad and Potter, they'll probably be miserable too."

Grinning, Leah said, "Well, at least I'm not alone." She sighed and pulled her hair down out of its ponytail, shaking it out. "Anyway, at least dance is going to be good. And it's going to be good to get out of here." She gestured round them to the common room, which was quiet and ridden with unknown tensions. Across the room, Aurora caught Draco and Pansy both looking at them, though Draco looked away immediately, scowling. Pansy's gaze lingered a moment longer, flickering between Aurora and Leah, before she turned back around with pink cheeks.

"Yeah," Aurora said with a sigh, leaning back. "It really can't come quickly enough."

-*

On the final Saturday of the month, Aurora saw her own name blaring out at her from the Daily Prophet once again.

Lady Black's Web of Secrets — What's The Scoop?

It has come to this author's attention that there is yet another addition to the 'black sheep' of the famous Black family: one Elise Black, aged 11, who recently started studying at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry earlier this year. The girl, a Ravenclaw, is an alleged distant relative of Lady Black, but questions have been raised over the strength of their relation — and, over Miss Black's own potential claim to the Assembly title.

It is no secret that Lady Black's circle of close relatives has dwindled in recent years. Her late great-grandfather and predecessor in the Assembly, Lord Arcturus Black III, left behind him only an eleven year old girl as an heir, his own son and grandson dead in 1979, and his remaining grandson, Lady Black's father, (at the time of the lord's death) disowned, disinherited, and in prison for mass murder. At the time of Lord Arcturus' death, the next closest inheritor was Lady Black's ailing Great-Aunt, the now-deceased Lucretia Prewett, and then Narcissa Malfoy (skipping over one disowned cousin, Andromeda Tonks, and the barred convict, Death Eater Bellatrix Lestrange) and her son, Draco Malfoy, second in line to inherit the Malfoy seat. To trace Lady Black's relation to her claimed cousin, one would have to go back four generations to find their common ancestor.

And Elise Black's heritage itself is questionable. Her grandfather, my sources tell me, was a disgraced squib who ran away from home, and it is uncertain whether the claimed Marius Black is even who he says he is. With both parents technically Muggles, with no knowledge of the Wizarding world prior to their daughter' acceptance to Hogwarts school, one doubts the suitability of Elise Black's apparently close relationship to her cousin, and to the rumoured claim she has to the prestigious title and Assembly seat.

Not that questionable bloodlines are an irregularity in the Black family. Lady Black's own mother was a muggleborn by the name of Marlene McKinnon, which is as refreshing as it is intriguing, for one of that family. Of course, Lady Black's suitability does not hinge on the purity of her blood, but the family's recent scandals may have done much to endear this alleged muggleborn cousin to her. At the time of Lady Black's accession to the title in 1991, some argued argued that Aurora Black should be disbarred from the title entirely, and that the title should pass only to male relatives, as was formerly the case. Meaning it would descend to her great-uncle Cygnus Black and then, matrilineally, to his grandson, Draco Malfoy. This, of course, was prevented by the 1982 Act for Female Inclusion which removed laws barring women from inheriting property and titles and protected the enshrinement of women's right to equal natural inheritance with men.

An anonymous source from Hogwarts school told Rita Skeeter exclusively that Lady Black has had a quick change of heart regarding her family, and is unusually close to the girl she claims to have only met a few months ago. Lady Black was described as 'reckless' and under immense pressure, thus leading her to make the leap to any potential heir, even if they do not hold a close claim to the title as others might. One source suggested there are rumours that young Elise might be made Lady Black's heir, instead of any closer family members, which are no doubt of great concern to those family members.

Lady Black's political beliefs include campaigning against the limitation of the rights of werewolves, passive endorsement of the Progressive Party, and voting for the deregulation of magical creature importation. Apparently, she is also a supporter of Albus Dumbledore and is support for muggleborn, half-breed, and squib inclusion in Wizarding society, which some suggest may have inspired her sponsorship of this distant cousin.

'It is well-known that Lady Black is a hard-headed young woman,' Lord Albert Nott, 73, a fellow Assembly member. 'As is to be expected of a girl of her background, she is difficult to reckon with. There have been concerns over her suitability for some time. Consorting desperately with long-lost family members of dubious blood is merely symptomatic of her failure to accumulate any real political power or respectability.'

But another colleague, Lord Alistair MacMillan, gave a rather different perspective. 'I find Lady Black to be a charming, forward-looking young woman,' he told me, 'and like any young person, wishes to know her family. I am sure she has the presence of mind to keep politics and personal separate — but I do not think there is anything wrong with her or her cousin, and certainly not because of their heritage.'

Lord Abraxas Malfoy, a close family friend, also expressed his concern that the Malfoys had not been consulted on this new dynamic within his daughter-in-law's (Narcissa Malfoy née Black) family, and its repercussions.

As for Elise Black herself, there is little known about her. None of her immediate classmates or teachers were available for comment, but an inside source tells me she is generally well-liked, but rather disruptive and cocky. If that is the case, it seems the traits run in the family. We all must wait to see what becomes of these two intriguing young women. I believe I speak for many women when I saw we hope that women will lead the way forward for this Noble house and set a good example for us all — yet, I fear, the opposite may indeed come true.

Article by Rita Skeeter

A ringing sound had started in Aurora's ears as she read and it crescendoed now, crashing over her along with a wave of violent nausea and fury, bone twisting and stomach curdling, as she read over the pages blurred by teary eyes, and forced herself to lift her head and to look across to the Ravenclaw Table, where Elise was still sitting oblivious and cheerful, unaware of the way the press was shoving into their lives, unaware that across the hall, Aurora was feeling her own world come crashing down around her ears, feeling a fury she had never before known as she locked eyes with Draco and knew, through a rough jolt deep within her soul, that he was guilty. He did this.

"I'm going to kill him," she muttered furiously, causing Theo, who had been sitting beside her, to start and look up from his book.

"Potter?"

"The opposite," she said, and thrust the paper in front of him.

His eyes widened as he scanned the opening lines. "Oh, Merlin. You think Draco—"

"I know he did. No one could have said those things and no one else would have the motivation to."

Appetite gone, she pushed her plate back and made to stand, grabbing her bag. Down the table, Draco met her gaze for only a moment before glancing away again. "I have to talk to Elise."

"What did he say that for?"

"I have... Oh, Merlin. This is going to ruin everything."

Theo looked up from the paragraph he was reading, his eyes still wide, and made a movement as though to reach out to her hand. "Go talk to her. It's going to be okay, you can sort this. You haven't done anything wrong, Aurora. It's going to be okay—"

"How can you say that, none of this is okay!"

"No, it isn't, this article isn't — but the world isn't going to end, you're going to be alright. Okay, whatever Rita Skeeter says doesn't actually represent what everyone in the world says... Breathe, Aurora," he said, more urgently, as she stared at him, heart struggling against her lungs.

"I have to tell her. Before she reads it, but I don't know how to..." She trailed off, bile burning up in her throat. Her gaze drifted to Potter, looking quite unaware over at the Gryffindor table, and then to Elise, who was well in early morning conversation with her friends. Her stomach turned. This article could change everything for her, or at the very least change how she saw the world. It held the potential to shatter her optimism, and to intrude terribly on her life.

He'd roaring, she got to her feet, snatched her bag up, and told Theo, "I'm going over."

"Want company?"

"No. No, I have to do this myself."

Even though she had no idea how. It had to come from her. She hurried across the hall, trying not to squirm at the stares she garnered. It was rare enough for a Slytherin to go near another house's table; and she was one of the most recognisable students in the school. Plus, the fact that the table was littered with copies of the Daily Prophet meant she was even more visible. Her stomach twisted at the thought that she might be too late, that Elise might already know.

But her cousin was smiling when she turned to her. "Hey, Aurora! What's up?"

Her words stuck in her throat. "I — can I talk to you alone?"

"Oh, can it wait, Clara and I were just about—"

"I'm afraid it can't," Aurora said stiffly. Elise blinked in surprise. "It's important."

"Has something happened?"

"It — just come with me, yes? It'll only be a moment, but it's important."

Startled, pale and nervous-looking, Elise got to her feet and carried her satchel and a slice of toast, confused. Aurora didn't know how to talk to her, or how to deal with how upset she would surely be. And she knew that, perhaps, coming here to talk to her would only draw attention, perhaps even make things worse, but she had to get on top of it too, and get ahead of it, and the emotional fallout for Elise would surely be worse if she heard about the article from someone else. That was what she had to focus on, not the internal school politics and gossip mill.

"No offence," Elise said, looking up at Aurora as they made their way to the doors, "but you're really freaking me out right now, what's going on?"

"It's fine," Aurora said in a shrill voice. "It's all going to be fine. Just… Come on."

Elise did, following Aurora as she stormed into a quiet passage off of the Entrance Hall corridor, where they would not be overheard, and cast a muffling charm around them before steeling herself to turn to Elise to tell her, "There was an article in the Daily Prophet today."

"The newspaper?" Aurora nodded. "Right…"

"About us. Me and you. And I thought I should be the one to tell you before you hear about it from another source… There wasn't too much about you, to be honest, but — you should just be aware."

"What…" Elise's face was pale, afraid, and utterly perplexed by all of this. "What did they say? Why?"

"Mostly just questioning how closely were related, but that's fine, just curiosity. I'm quite well-known, it was only a matter of time—"

"They don't think I'm a real witch," Elise said with unexpected, hard clarity. Aurora's stomach tumbled. "Whoever wrote this. Right? Everyone thinks I'm not a real witch, that's what they've been saying about me and Clara!"

"That's not it, Elise. This article doesn't say that. And you are a real witch."

"I know that, but other people are stupid. And I don't want people writing about me in newspapers — what the hell is this?"

"The Daily Prophet isn't that important. I mean, most students don't care."

"But it still wrote about me! Can they even do that?"

"Wizarding laws on child protection are… Flimsy." After all this article, unfortunately, wasn't even the worst example. "It's really going to be alright," she said, but Elise was staring at her like she was caught between yelling like mad or simply bursting into tears. "I'm sure it'll all blow over soon enough, you needn't worry about it, really."

"You're worried about it," Elise accused, "so don't tell me not to be!"

"I'm — it really didn't say anything bad about you."

"Will I think that if I read it?"

"It's fine, I just wanted to tell you, so that you knew. And don't read it, you'll read too much into it and it's nonsense anyway—"

"So it does say bad stuff about me!"

"No, it really doesn't — mainly that they don't know anything about you, which is good, 'cause that's what you want, right? It was really more about me. You don't have to read it."

Elise didn't look like she believed Aurora one bit, and Aurora was sure that she would be reading the Prophet as soon as she got the opportunity. So she sighed, biting her lip, and said, "The most it said is you're well-liked but a bit… Disruptive. Which is fine, that means absolutely nothing."

"Is this cause I chat in class, 'cause Flitwick told me off for that!"

"I'm sure Flitwick hasn't been feeding information to Rita Skeeter," Aurora assured Elise hastily, for she looked like she might cry at the thought. "It actually called you an intriguing young woman — look, read it if you really want to and you'll see it's not that bad about you! It just… Implies some things about inheritance. My inheritance, the Black family inheritance…"

"'Cause I'm not a real witch."

"You are a real witch, and nobody denies that… But it does slyly raise the point of your being muggleborn, which, I'd like to point out, would actually have no bearing on your ability to inherit anything from the family, as far as I'm concerned."

Elise's lip trembled. "So whys it important then? Why's this been written?"

"I — I don't know," Aurora said, losing her breath somewhat on the words as her cousin's face snapped back into her mind's eye, conjuring her fury again. "I don't know and I'm so sorry — but it's going to be alright. I'll handle it, any of the fallout. And if anyone — anyone — gives you any bother over it, you tell me, alright? You tell me, you tell your head of house, and I'll sort them out."

The bell rang shrilly through the corridor, and Elise shivered, wrapping her arms around herself, and for a moment it hit Aurora just how young she was, just how vulnerable and in need of protection, comfort, assurance, and she couldn't help herself from pulling that little girl tightly into her arms. "It's alright," she whispered as soothingly as she could, running a hand over Elise's hair in that soothing way she remembered Andromeda doing to her, to help. "I promise it's alright, yeah? I was only telling you because someone else might mention it, and I wanted to make sure you heard it from me, and you don't have it made worse by anybody else."

"You're sure? No one's going to mention it?"

"Well, they might, I won't lie to you, but there was nothing that bad about you." Other than telling the world that Elise existed, making her a target. But the past month, she had told Aurora she hadn't had any trouble from fellow students, and she hoped it could stay that way. "The rhetoric was bad, but it was mostly aimed at me, and Skeeter endorsed certain people, whose views are... Archaic, and cruel. But that's not what most people think, and it's not how you're going to be treated. I won't let people. It'll be alright, I swear."

Elise gave a small, watery laugh as if of disbelief, and then withdrew. "I'm okay, you know," she said, though Aurora did not believe her. "I'm just — like, this is really weird. I'm not sure you realise just how much this is really, really weird."

"I know, I know it must be, and it is completely unfair that you've been caught up in it and I'm so sorry. If I could do anything I would, I'll try, but I don't know if there's even anything that I can do." She squeezed Elise's shoulder, nervous, and glanced at Leah who gave her an encouraging nod. "You'll be fine, I promise. Just, you know. Tell me if anything does happen. Or if you even just want to talk to me, about anything, it's perfectly fine."

Elise smiled tensely and nodded. "If you say so," she said before starting to back away, glancing over her shoulder. She took a bite of her toast, frowning. "I uh, told Clara I'd do some Charms with her, so I should probably go."

She just wanted out of the conversation, Aurora could tell. But the unease and awkwardness, and the feeling of guilt at having dragged her into it, ate away at her, and so she just nodded, forcing a smile. "Sure. Yeah. I have work to do, too. You — be... Let me know if you need anything."

Elise's smile was hesitant and forced. "Yeah. Sure. Thanks for telling me?"

She didn't look thankful. Aurora couldn't blame her. "Course. And I mean it. Anyone says anything you don't like, set me on them. I'm pretty good with hexes."

She forced herself to hold back tears, just until she got back to the comfort of her own room, where she could at least have some silence and solace. There she lay on her bed, staring up at the ceiling, hand clenched around her snake pendant as her eyes blurred with tears.

"You should bite the boy," Julius hissed from within her palm. From their pile on the bedside table, the other snake necklaces hissed their agreement. "Poison him. You are good at that."

"He's been highly disrespectful," Lyra agreed, "and poison is a powerful weapon."

"I think you should burn the Malfoys," Claudius said with relish, "I've been thinking so for a nine hundred years. They're such nuisances. And I don't like peacocks."

Cyphus hissed loudly. "You're all terribly dull. Arson, poison, and biting are easy solutions."

"She's crying now," Julius informed the other snakes, and Aurora cringed, "I can feel it. Lady Black, you must know that crying over insults will not get you anywhere. However, if you were able to let me into my physical incarnation, I would happily bite the boy, which is the sort of thing I believe would make him cry, from observation."

"The most painful way to die is being burned alive," Cyphus said, "but emotionally, I believe some political retribution would be of use to you."

"I don't want…" She trailed off with bitterness. She did want revenge. She wanted to wound Draco and everyone around him, and she wanted to show that she was not weak Aurora to be messed about with and insulted. But she hated that she had to contemplate vengeance towards Draco. "I know things will be okay," she said. "Politically, anyway. But Elise is going to be hurt, her parents are going to be angry, and I don't know how to deal with that, on top of the fact that people so openly want to criticise me, want to attack me, and that Draco would go behind my back and do this and—"

She was cut off by a knock at the door, and Gwen's swift entrance, a mess of blonde hair and flowing robes. "God, I know you weren't okay."

Aurora sniffled and sat up.

"Draco's an arsehole," Gwen told her. "And so's his grandfather, and Theo's grandfather, and you can trust that 'cause Theo's said so himself."

She smiled weakly, wiping at her eyes. "It's really—"

"Don't say you're fine," Gwen said sternly, sitting down beside her on the bed and crossing her legs. "We all know you're not. If I was you I would have battered Draco by now."

"Yeah, I know. But that's not me."

Gwen frowned at her, as though she didn't quite believe her. "He's being awful," she said with a bitter edge, "but I don't know what I can bring myself to do about him. I mean, it's not like I have much power here. Not socially — anyone who is still sticking with him will stick with him, and they don't have a whole lot of a choice in the matter anyway. And I can't deny anything, there's no point but… He knows that. He expects me not to be able to retaliate and that's what makes me angry. He wants to hurt me."

Gwen put an arm around her, rubbing her shoulder gently as Aurora's voice shook over an unshed sob. "Hurt him back. Or we will. I think Theo and Pansy are giving him hell right now, anyway."

"They are?" Aurora asked, taken aback by this. She blinked up at Gwen, who nodded, shrugging.

"Yeah. I think Pansy started it when they were just talking and then Theo overheard what was going on and jumped in."

"That's…" Confusingly relieving. "Why?"

Gwen shot her a tired look and said drily, "Funnily enough, some people do actually care about you."

"Yeah, but…" It was foolish of them to get involved, dangerous, even, if word got back to their families, if it caused upset within the ranks and circles they relied on. And yet Aurora couldn't manage to worry, as much as she felt she should have, for all she felt was relief and gratitude that someone, anyone, cared enough to speak up.

"What Draco did was ridiculous. The whole article was ridiculous, and everyone with a brain in their head and a half-decent fucking conscience sees that. Don't let Draco ruin your life for you, or anyone else for that matter."

"I wish it was that easy," Aurora said, voice breaking slightly over another breathless sob, "but I just — I've just always felt like I needed to be liked, or if not liked then approved of and respected and I'm just — I'm not! And this shows I'm not and it's Draco and it's — Ugh!" She lashed out, slamming her fist into her pillow, and Gwen flinched back. "He doesn't have the right to do this or to say anything he's said to me recently, and neither does his grandfather, and he told Abraxas, Gwen! He told Abraxas we've fallen out and that's why he's suddenly gotten the go ahead to say whatever the fuck he wants about me, because me standing up for myself is the final straw and Merlin, why can't I just be okay?"

She made to lash out again, but Gwen took her arms quickly, staring at her. "You are okay," she said, "you're gonna be okay, Aurora. They're all dickheads, the whole lot of them, but you're better than them, yeah? Way better! They're all idiots!"

"They're not. I wish they were but they're not, they're wrong about many things, but they're also calculated. Not just Malfoy, but Travers, Carrow, Nott, the whole establishment that surrounds and supports them. If they want to destroy me, then they will, if I don't find someone to defend me instead."

That was all it was really. Alliances and politics and fakery, no one seeing each other for themselves but for the people around them, and their utility.

"It all sounds like horseshit to me," Gwen said, "you don't need—"

"I do need," she cut her off, flopping back down on her bed with a scowl. "I need, I need, I need, fucking constantly, and I hate it. I hate it that Draco's right, that I did need his family, that I wouldn't be near the girl I am today if I didn't have them but Merlin somehow I still wish that I didn't!"

"What did he say about—"

Another knock at the door and Leah's voice asking, "Should we come in?"

Gwen looked at Aurora, who merely sighed loudly. "Who's we?"

Leah, she could handle. Leah might even, she felt, be helpful, understanding. Robin or Jones she might throw a knife at if there was one to hand and she was so inclined.

"Uh, me, Robin, Nott, and Parkinson."

Her stomach plummeted. Even though they both had seen her cry before, this felt different; Aurora's body curled up quite instinctively at the thought they might perceive her weakness, her utmost vulnerability, and yet, hearing that they had argued with Draco from Gwen, she wanted to see them, wanted to hold them both to her tightly and never let go again. But she didn't want to have to need them.

Still, maybe she could admit that for now, she needed someone. She nodded at Gwen, squeezing her hand, and her friend called for them to come in.

Four concerned faces appeared around the doorframe. Aurora glanced up, then away again. Pity made her squirm, made her skin crawl and her cheeks heat and her eyes burn even more than they already were.

She could hear her heart in her ears, as the cacophony of, "Are you alright?" started up, voices jumping up over one another, grating in her head.

She shivered and pulled her knees to her chest, then stopped herself, righting herself. Feet on the floor. Hands clutching the edge of the bed with white knuckles. She didn't want to look at Pansy, even as she kneeled in front of her, whispering apologies that felt genuine and yet wrong, too little and too late, burning with guilt she should have felt weeks ago.

"I had no idea Draco was going to do this," Pansy said, voice high and frantic. Her face was blotchy, her eyes pink and shining as she looked right in Aurora's eyes, clutching her hands. "I had no idea any of it — oh, Merlin, Aurora, I'm so sorry, I simply cannot believe him, I should have realised with how furious he was but he knew I'd stop him—"

"I don't want to hear about the article," Aurora said, throat tight. On the other side of her from Gwen, Theo sat down, uncertain of himself, and yet firm as he placed a hand on her shoulder. "I don't want to hear that you didn't think — you should've been with me from the start, this is all just — just symptomatic of what's been happening the past month!"

"I know, but I didn't — Draco — I had to, Aurora. I didn't know how bad things were."

"You would've," she said sharply, eyes stinging, "if you'd bothered to listen to me."

"You didn't want to talk, you never want to talk!"

"I never get the chance, I'm never important enough!"

"I just wanted you two to work things out, and I know that's not going to happen now, but I thought maybe I could make things right!"

"You always do," Aurora muttered, hating the resentment in her voice. "It never works, Pans. 'Cause you never ask me what is right. And it doesn't matter now, because Draco's done this and he's blown everything up anyway."

"I know and I told him, we both did, just now—"

"I don't care what you told him!" Aurora's voice rose shrilly, her heart stuttering in her chest as bitter bile worked her throat. "What's done is done you can't apologise now!"

"Aurora, I — I know how he did it."

That stopped her just for a second. Information. But when she looked at the relief on Pansy's face, it brought a surge of anger back. She had known what to say to her, to get her to calm down for a moment, made pliant by the promise of information.

"I don't care how he did it," she ground out. "He or his grandfather or whoever, spoke to Rita Skeeter, and that's enough."

"He's been speaking to her for over a year now." That was Theo, speaking for the first time. Beside Gwen, Leah took in a sudden gasp.

The warmth left Aurora's body as she swivelled to look at Theo, whose face was twisted in pity. Pity, again. It turned her stomach but she forced herself to hold his gaze. "What do you mean? How?" She knew he had spoken to Skeeter that one time, about Hagrid, but afterwards he hadn't done it again. She knew Skeeter had her ways of getting information, she had wanted to trust her cousin's word. But if there was one thing she had grown to realise, it was that she could not trust him.

"She has a way of sneaking into Hogwarts grounds to speak to sources. Apparently, she's an Animagus — but he wouldn't tell us of what."

Tears burned at her eyes, the betrayal sinking deeper. Her voice came out in a whisper, "The whole time? Since last year, that article about Potter?"

Theo nodded, his hand brushing gently over her shoulder. "Apparently so. It's messed up, I know."

She glanced between him and Pansy, heart pounding. Her ears rang with doubt, the remembrance of how Oansy had acted uncomfortable that day the article about Granger came out, the way she and Lucille had been late to meet her. Such a silly thing, at the time. Silly to think any of her friends had anything to do with it.

"You didn't know?"

Pansy hesitated a second too long. "No."

Aurora stared at her, heart pounding. "Are you lying to me?"

"I — no. I didn't know he'd do this."

"Did you know he was speaking to Skeeter? Even after everything she wrote about me?"

"I told him not you, I didn't think that he'd ever say anything about you. I just — I didn't want you two to fall out."

"Well we have fallen out! Of course we have. For fuck's sake, Pansy!"

With a start, she let go and all but threw herself off the bed, standing up. Pansy scrambled out her way on the floor as she stormed past to wrench the door open.

"Black," Robin called, getting to his feet and reaching out to her, "listen, don't go and shout around the common room—"

"Stop pretending to give a shit, Oliphant!" she snapped back, and slammed the door behind her. She barely felt anything but the rush of her body against the air, and the sound of the door opening and closing again behind her hardly registered as she hurried down the corridor, her only thoughts being a rush of anger and half-formed insults to hurl at her cousin.

"Aurora," Theo's voice called after her, lost in the rush of her head.

"Pansy knew," she spat out, eyes blearing. "Draco knew how I felt, and he didn't care, and Pansy knew and she… Did you know?"

"I swear, I didn't."

"How do I know that?" It was the question eating her up inside, and had been for weeks now, a persistent parasite, twisting in her gut, writhing upwards into her chest. She faltered, turning to him as she slowed. "How do I trust you?"

"I…" Theo's eyes were wide, expression both concerned and confused. "I don't have anything except my word. But I would have told you if I'd known, you know I would have."

"Yeah, well…" She bit her lip, throat tightening as she looked at his earnest gaze. "I thought the same of Pansy."

She turned away again, hurrying to the common room before he could reach her side. There, she stood in the doorway, until her gaze latched onto Draco smugly holding court by the fireplace, and her anger flared again, compelling her to march over. It was Millie who spotted her first, her eyes widening in surprise. She grabbed ahold of Lucille to whisper to her, and then Draco snapped around to face her.

Aurora came to a still at the arm of the sofa he was lounging on. Her mind went blank and yet roared at the same time, a cacophony of tangled white-hot thoughts, none of which she could latch onto, and at his slightly faltering expression, all she could feel was rage. Her wand arm raised, she snapped furiously, "Flipendo!" and her cousin went sprawling off the back of the sofa, onto the floor.

An over-enthusiastic first year screamed as Aurora advanced, looming over her cousin, whose wand lay helplessly on the coffee table. Him beneath her, she muttered a Stinging Hex that made him cringe, shrinking back against the floor. "That," she hissed, her wand pointed at his chest, "was your first warning. Pull a stunt like this again, and I'll do far, far worse."

She'd be punished for this, in front of so many witnesses, but she didn't care. Snape couldn't do anything worse than what Draco had done.

His gaze darted over her shoulder to Theo, then back again. "What are you on about, Aurora?"

She was well aware of the wands raised tentatively in her direction; but she was equally aware of Theo's wand trained on Lucille, the most likely to act, and of his tense presence behind her. "The Skeeter article. You spoke to her."

"And why would you think that?"

"Oh, I don't know, maybe because you've been an absolute twat all month, because you can't stand me disagreeing with you, because you've never liked her or thought her worth your time and now you've decided that I don't matter to you either? There are things in that article only you know, the exact nature of our relationship, details about Marius. Not to mention that anonymous quote!"

Draco was silent for a moment, before he said in a resigned way, "Let's not do this here."

"No, actually, I want to do this here."

Draco stood with a stony glare, as someone behind them tossed his wand to him. He took it, and Aurora tensed, ready, but he only said, in a low voice, "You're causing a scene, Aurora."

"Good!" she cried shrilly. "Maybe I want to for once, when my personal family information has already been splashed across the front page! Because of you! I mean, really, that quote certainly sounds like you, you've got your grandfather in it, I know you wrote to him and your father after our argument, and all this stuff about how you might have stood a chance of becoming Lord Black?" She let out a high laugh. "Well, it's ridiculous, but it's certainly like you for its stupidity, and for its arrogance!"

"I could have been Lord Black. I still could be."

"So you did talk to Skeeter, then."

His gaze darted to Theo, furious. "She would have found out anyway. She didn't write anything that wasn't true."

A dry, unamused scoff came with Theo behind her, and gave her strength.

"Just give me an answer," she hissed, stepping closer. Tell me. Did you communicate with Rita Skeeter?"

For a second he looked like he might deny it. Then the defiance came back into his eye, and he merely said, voice haughty and bored, "She reached out to me. And to my grandfather, and I had to support his statement—"

It was instant, her furious and sharp reaction; her arm swung through the air as if by its own accord, her palm slapped across his cheek, stinging. "You didn't have to do anything!" she shouted, as Draco reeled backwards, eyes flashing. "Don't give me that nonsense, Draco—"

"We all stand by our family, Aurora. Or at least I do."

She took in a sharp, cold breath, stomach turning. "Yes. You're right. Except I don't believe that you didn't have a choice, I don't believe that your grandfather made you give a statement."

"I'm not named."

"You're not denying it! And you told him about our argument, you've told him everything!"

"What was I supposed to do? You'd been toying with the Alliance for months, it had to break at some point!"

"You didn't have to break it!"

"I have to tell my family these things. That's how it is, you know that."

"Don't try and defend it! I'm your family, Draco, or I thought I was! But you know what?" She advanced again, and Draco's hand went to his wand. At her back, she felt Theo raise his own, wary, as she did the same. "Elise is my family, too. And if you somehow deluded yourself into thinking I don't care about family, correct yourself. I can never forgive you for this, Draco. You may do what you will, say what you will to me, but you will not be cruel to Elise, and you will not attack my family. You have crossed every line that I have."

For a second, Draco's face fell, his cold smile faltered. "I'm sorry," he said, so quiet only she could hear it, and she didn't know if he meant it or not, but she also couldn't bring herself to care.

"You did this. For what reason I don't care, and I don't care if you regret it now either. You did it." Her fingers flexed around her wand, itching for a hex or even a curse, an instinctive restlessness beneath her skin. "Don't try and defend yourself. It's not going to work."

In a last ditch panic, he looked to Theo. "I can't believe you actually told her, Nott. What happened to friendship?"

"Aurora's my friend," he said in a low voice. "And despite having grown up around you all, I do somehow have a moral compass."

"I only spoke to Skeeter because she reached out to me! My grandfather wanted me to, I had to, for my family!"

She let out a cold, shrill laugh. "You keep telling yourself that," she said, stepping away. There was ice in her chest, yet her eyes still burned. "Go fuck yourself, Draco. And if you do something like this again, you'll find yourself in the hospital wing."

"Don't threaten me," he snarled, raising his wand. "You're being pathetic, Aurora. I'm only doing what I had to do. You started this, now you see where kicking off and starting a fuss gets you. Disloyalty has consequences."

"Draco," Theo said from behind her in a warning voice, "don't."

Her cousin seethed, looking between them, at Theo with his wand still raised in her defence. Draco's cheeks were coloured pink. "You'll both regret it, you know. All this. Turning against us — against me." He came closer and Aurora flinched as he lunged for his wand. "Think what your grandfather would say, Theodore. Think what Arcturus would say, Aurora."

"He'd say you're not worthy of my tears," Aurora spat, "and don't you dare use his name for your agenda. If you pull something like this again, if you dare do anything that might hurt Elise, you'll find yourself in the Hospital Wing. Don't forget who I am, Draco. There are bigger monsters than you."

She smiled thinly, anger still rising. He dared to spin this round on her, to make it seem like she was the villain and he the victim, to make her look like she was making a fuss, being unreasonable, the pathetic and hysterical witch. Stepping back, she reached out slightly, feeling Theodore just by her.

"You're insane," Blaise hissed at her, but she whirled on her heel and stormed out the room, fearing what she might do if she didn't leave and feel the rush of the outside air against her skin. Half the common room was staring at her but she couldn't bring herself to care. Damn the consequences, she wanted to break something. It took all her self-control to keep a hold on her wand and not fling a lamp across the room as she went, Theo hurrying behind her.

Once she heard the slam of the common room door behind them, the shaking of it send a tremor through her own body and she let out a sob. Theo was at her side in a moment as she stalled, and she dragged him into an empty cellar nearby, with just enough presence of mind to lock it before as she stormed around the room in a fury, heart pounding.

"I'm going to kill him," she muttered, "I could fucking — who does he think he is?"

"He's an absolute idiot," Theo said, and she was pleasantly surprised to hear the anger in his own voice, on her behalf, "and a cruel one at that."

"What did he say to you?" she asked, whirling around to meet Theo's bright gaze. "You and Pansy spoke to him, what did he say?"

Theo hesitated just a moment, and she glared at him, half-begging him to just say it and not to spare her feelings. "He said it was within his rights, that he didn't care and — we told him how completely messed up this was of him, but he didn't care! He's been a bloody coward, attacking a kid, and I told him so, but he didn't want to hear it."

"He is," Aurora said, the words tumbling from her lips. "He is such a coward but he's winning! Or his grandfather's winning — your grandfather's winning!" She said it with more venom than she wanted, and Theo flinched.

"They're all cowards," he said, "I know—"

"No, he — they all want to hurt me, Theo! It's not that they don't care, they care too much about every move I make, every word that I say."

"It isn't right," he said, "it isn't fair of them, any of them. I'd gladly go back and hex Draco."

"Oh, yeah, and incense him even more, make him even more concerned about the moral panic of letting me just exist! Merlin, he hates that you're still friends with me, doesn't he, and Pansy I suppose — if I can even count her as a friend."

"He did seem a bit… Unhappy about our choices. But I confidently am not. Pansy's stressed, about her family, she wants to do the right thing, I know that. But Draco's got a hold on her and he's just an absolute git, and a desperate one, and we all know that you are so much better than anything he wants to accuse you of!"

"I know that," Aurora snapped, throwing her hands up in the air, "but the rest of the world doesn't! How's anyone gonna know anything beyond what's written about me, and now Skeeter and Draco and Abraxas and your grandfather are in charge and Merlin, how didn't you know anything about this?"

"My grandfather doesn't tell me anything," Theo said, with an edge of anger to his voice, "he doesn't trust me. Nor does Draco, clearly."

"Well, that makes two of us. Merlin, I…" She let out a furious, shaky breath and sank against the wall, tilting her head back. "Why'd he do it, Theo? Why does he hate me?"

"He doesn't hate you," he said, shaking his head, "I know that. But he's desperate and he's clutching at some way to control the situation he sees and make it seem like he was some power."

"I don't want him to have power," Aurora snarled, "he doesn't deserve power, and he's not getting power over me."

"Don't let him," Theo said. "Any of them. Even my grandfather, he's a prick and he's no idea what he's talking about, Aurora. You shouldn't have to put up with any of it and I'm so sorry that you have to, but, it's going to be okay."

"It's not," she said, strangled, "everything's going to be ruined, I'm going to be ruined, and I'm so so stupid because I should've seen it coming! I should never have trusted him in the first place, for the last five years, any of them, because he was right, what he said, when we had our fight! I don't belong. I'm not one of you and I never will be and without him, without all of you…" Her breath rattled, her body straining over a sob, face pulled taut so she could feel the stress in her muscles, the ache in her head at the building tears.

"What he said in our argument, Theo... I didn't want to tell any of you, I didn't know how. But he called my mother a mudblood." Theo sucked in a gasp, eyes widening — clearly, Draco hadn't told him that part of their argument. "Yet still, he tries to be on the right side, tries to pretend to be a victim, gets his side out, and anyone will always believe him anyway because that's easier. He said that he thinks my mother deserved to die and yet I'm hysterical and crazy and stupid, for telling him to go fuck himself! And then he said I'd be nothing if it weren't for his family, they made me, and it's as if I'm ungrateful and unfair if I decide I don't want them, when his father tried to kill me as a child, when they kept my mother's identity from me for over a decade, and they tossed me aside te second I became inconvenient for them! I don't want them to have made me, I don't want them at all anymore and yet, I'm so terrified that it's true, that he's right! What if I am nothing, what if everything I am hinges on what other people, the right people, think of me, and what if — what if I can never be right? What if I can never just live?"

"You are not nothing, Aurora," Theo told her fiercely, grasping her hands. "I can promise you that, no matter what anybody else who wants to tear you down says, you are not nothing. You have never been, and never will be, nothing."

"You don't get to decide that, and nor do I. And I'm so, so tired of not getting a say in who I am, Theo." She slid down the wall and he went with her, kneeling before, still holding her hands in a warm, comforting touch that both steadied her and seemed to turn everything upside down again.

She broke off, voice splintering over a sob, and stopped, breathless from the effort of trying not to cry. But she was tired — she was so, so tired — and this was Theo, and as he came closer, his arms outstretched, she let that sob break over and the tears flood her cheeks.

"What if this is it?" she whispered as he wrapped his arms around her, and the warmth of him made her chest lurch with yet another sob. "What if I've ruined everything? But I can't go back, I won't, it'll be worse, it — I don't want to be like him, I don't want to need him or any of them or anyone at all, but I — I am them. At my core I have always had to be and I don't know who I really am or what I really want and I've no idea what my place is and without them, without being surrounded by the right people, and I just — I'm scared, and I'm angry, and I'm angry because I'm scared!"

"And you're right to be angry," Theo told her, "you're so right, Aurora. But you don't have to be scared. You're stronger than anyone I know and you are far, far better than anything bloody Draco thinks you should be. I know you."

"Then who am I, Theo? What can I bloody be, now, what do I know except who I'm not?"

"You're Aurora Black," he told her. "You're the smartest person I know, the fiercest and the strongest and even when you don't want to admit it, you're also the kindest. And it doesn't matter who your parents are, it doesn't matter what Draco or anyone else thinks, I know you. Not Narcissa Malfoy's image of you. You're so, so much more than that and you always have been and just because Draco said that in anger doesn't mean that any of us think it's true!"

"But it does matter who my parents are, Theo," she said, voice wavering as sobs threatened her throat. "It matters because people make it matter, and it matters because they made me, too, and I — I'm tired of pretending I don't know who my mother was, like she doesn't matter, I'm tired of feeling like I have to cast that side of me off just to… I don't even know what, anymore!"

His grip on her tightened, but pleasantly so — like he never wanted to let go. And it felt like she was being wrapped up, in his warm embrace, kept safe from much more than the chill of the cellar.

"I want out," she whispered. "I want away from all of it, from him. I just wanted to — to be perfect."

"Perfect is rather a lot to ask."

"Wouldn't you want to be? If you always knew that you were never good enough on your own, wouldn't you want to be perfect, so no one could dare criticise you?" Her voice was catching higher and higher notes and she leaned back, shivering when she was released from his arms, yet craving the ability to move, to shout, as she hauled herself to her feet and started pacing in an effort to drive the anger out from beneath her skin. Theo got up after her, face etched with concern. Yet she was glad he let her be, let her shout and wave her arms even if she knew she probably looked mad doing it. "That's the thing you'll never understand, none of you, that no one ever seems to understand is that I've never had anyone just let me be me! I — I have all this expectation on me, to be the perfect heir, perfect lady, perfect daughter who even if her blood doesn't matter, still has to live up to the memory of her mother and to everything her father believes in, still has to stand side by side with Harry fucking Potter and somehow win! And I'm tired of it, Theo, I'm so tired of it all!"

She collapsed on the words, and turned to bury her face in his warm shoulder, as his fingers curled in her hair.

"All I ever wanted was to be loved." Theo breathed out gently, his light fingertips grazing her shoulder. "Unconditionally, you know — the way families are supposed to be. And I suppose I always knew Draco wasn't that, no one is, but… You know, it still hurts, to be proven right, sometimes."

She tore herself away from him suddenly, all too aware of their proximity and the fact that even if she trusted Theo more than any of her other friends, he was still not in a position where she could count on him. He was loyal to more than friendship, but to his family too. She didn't want him to prove the same as Draco, even when in her heart she trusted that he wouldn't. Aurora walked back, holding his intense gaze as Theo continued to walk with her, following.

"You are loved," he said, "please, know that. I might not understand what it means, to have your parentage called into question, or mocked, I know that I never will. But I do know what it is to have to live up to something impossible, and I know what it is to lose people. And anyone, anyone, who makes you feel like you don't deserve that, that you're not loved, they don't deserve the time of day."

"I just want to be Aurora," she whispered as he came closer, holding her gaze, and her stomach turned. At what he said, at their proximity, at the fact she could still smell his distinctive cologne, make out the glimmering blues of his eyes, that she wanted his arms around her again even she was crying, and yet hated that vulnerability, and that she wanted to be vulnerable. "I want that to be enough."

"It is enough," he told her, taking her hands again. Her stomach swooped, and her gaze lingered on the earnest look on his face, the plush lips twisted in a gentle frown. She was suddenly so conscious of his hands around her, their warmth and the spark it brought when his fingertips brushed over her knuckles. It was terrifying. "Aurora — Arithmancy genius, Chaser extraordinary, unwitting comedian — is more than enough. Don't let anyone ever tell you otherwise — promise me."

"Theo," she said breathlessly, forcing an unsteady laugh.

"Promise me," he said again, firmer this time, staring into her eyes. She tensed her hands around his and he came closer, just a tiny bit, enough that her breath was snatched from her lungs.

For a moment, there was that desperation unlocked in her chest again, the craving for some form of intimacy, whether it was because he was Theo or just because he was there. But she burst into tears before she could do anything about it, before she could think about it, and she whispered, "I promise," as he pulled her in for a hug, rocking her gently.

It was terrifying being so close to him, terrifying that he chose her, and the realisation that she wanted him to, more than anything, and that maybe a part of her even needed him to. But she didn't know how much of that was real and how much of it was just desperation, fear, longing for something more than a person, only a feeling she had been chasing all her life.

A moment of silence passed broken only by her gentle sniffles and sobs, Theo whispering soothingly in her ear, before she said, "I really didn't want to cry about this."

He laughed, surprised, and tugged her closer, tighter. "I'll still hex Draco for you. Just say the word."

"Stop being chivalrous."

"He hurt you." Aurora brushed a hand over Theo's shoulder, daring herself to let herself press closer, simply be wrapped up in his embrace, and pretend that that was okay, that was sustainable, that was the way they were supposed to be. "He's disgusting."

She choked back a sob, throat tight. "Do you think he knew how much it'd hurt me?"

"I… I think he knew it would hurt you. I'm not sure how realised how you would react. Like I said, he's a bit of an idiot."

"He hurt Elise too. Merlin, she — I need to protect her."

"I know," Theo said, "I'll help you."

"You don't have to."

"I want to. We all do: me and Robin and Gwen, and Leah, even Pansy, even with everything she's dealing with. You're our friend. I really care about you, Aurora."

"You shouldn't," she said, shaking her head and wresting herself from his embrace. "Theo, this — our closeness is… You don't need to do this. Sticking with Draco is easier, your own grandfather gave a quote to Skeeter, you don't have to go against them."

"I'm not my grandfather," Theo said, stung, "and I don't need Draco. I'm his equal, even he knows that, and I don't want to suck up to him, even if I thought I had to. I don't have to grovel to him, I don't need him like the rest of them do."

"Blaise said all of us rotate around him. Like he's the fucking sun."

"Well, then, we've fallen out of orbit." His fingers brushed the nape of her neck. "There are more important things than expectations. I know that's easy for me to say, I can't wait to be rid of my grandfather and everything he wants from me, but, well, I might not be able to say everything I think, or do everything I want, but I have got the luxury of choosing my own friends."

"And you choose me?" she asked, voice wavering with hope, needing him to say the words she trusted him to say.

His cheek brushed against her forehead, close enough to send a shiver through her. "Yes," he whispered, thumb tracing a circle on her shoulder, "Aurora, of course I choose you."

The sob bubbled up again, this time of relief, and she sunk against him. "Why?"

"Because you're brilliant. You're my best friend. Because you'd choose me and because it's what's right. Because, believe it or not, I like you. I care about you."

"You don't have to flatter me."

"It's true," he said with a small laugh, the sound vibrating between them. "You will be okay, Aurora. This will stop hurting. You're strong and brave and I know you. I'm with you, Gwen and Robin and Leah and Pansy are with you. It's going to be okay."

"How do you know?"

"I know you. And I know us. And I have hope."

Hope. That terrible, treacherous word. She squeezed him tightly before letting go, wiping her eyes. She didn't dare look at his face, but when his fingers brushed her cheek, she couldn't look away. "Yeah," she whispered, too aware of the warmth of his skin on hers. "Me, too."

She cleared her throat, stepping away suddenly as her head cleared and she came to her senses. The cold brought clarity, even to her clouded, furious head.

"What Draco's done is messed up," Theo said, "but there's nothing that can change it. But you can get through it and you can get Elise through it, too."

"I can't."

"You can," he said fiercely, holding her gaze.

"Promise me," she asked, voice faltering.

"I promise," he said, and added, "I'll help you get through it."

It felt like a promise too far, like tempting fate. But in the moment it steadied her, sated her.

"Can we stay here for a while?" she asked in a whisper. "I don't want to face the common room, or my room, where everyone'll ask me things and fuss and pity me."

"Of course," he said, "whatever you want." He reached out a hand, but stopped, left it hanging between them. Instead, a moment later, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a white silk handkerchief, pressing it into her hands. Aurora clutched it with shaking hands, dabbing at her eyes. Then, Theo smiled, gracefully, gently, and guided them both down to sit on the dusty, stony floor. "Don't worry about Pansy. I can talk to her if you want. She knows what she should do, I think, she's just struggling to do it."

"Yeah," Aurora said softly. "Well, I suppose I can understand that. I just don't feel particularly inclined to let it go right now."

"That's pretty fair. My offer stands."

She sat down beside him, knowing that she'd likely get dust all over her skirt and robes, but she couldn't bring herself to care. Her mind brushed over ways to get back at Draco, of how to find Rita Skeeter, whatever her Animagus form was, and make her pay, too. They'd both gone too far this time. She wiped the last tears from her eyes.

After a moment's silence between them, Theo said, "You know, I read a really dull book on magical geology the other day."

Aurora swallowed tightly around the lump in her throat. "Wasn't the one I gave you was it?"

"No, this was worse."

"That was a good book!"

"This one was about the power of rocks to tell the future. Based on what colour you gravitated to. Three hundred pages of colours."

With a wry smile, Aurora forced herself to push on and ask, "What were the conclusions?"

He took a moment to frown before saying, "You know, I'm not entirely sure."

"Is it possibly you just didn't understand?"

"Excuse me, I'm top of our house!"

"Second top, actually," Aurora retorted, his indignant smile bringing a laugh to her lips.

"Oh, how rude of me to forget."

She laughed despite herself, bumping his shoulder, and brushed the remaining tears lingering on her lashes with the handkerchief.

"It was basic colour theory, except I've never really subscribed to the view that one's favourite colour says much about them, and I do think a lot of it was just, you know, choosing a nice colour because it's a pretty rock."

"Don't underestimate the power of a pretty rock, Theo."

"Yeah, well, I'm not sure how much it says about you as a person what your favourite colour is. The magical properties of minerals and rocks in general is interesting enough, though admittedly more your thing than mine, but this was a bit of a reach. Of many more suitable meanings, emeralds also represent patience, and harmony," he said, nodding to the ring on her finger. "Then again, there's also wisdom, and elegance."

"I'm not sure I have those things either, sometimes. And anyway, emeralds aren't my favourite stone, and green isn't my favourite colour."

"No?"

"No. It's just convenient." She sniffled, brushing her hair back. "I don't have a favourite stone, but I do prefer silver to gold. And my favourite colour, believe it or not, is purple."

"Purple?"

"Yeah. I think, anyway."

"Lilac?"

"No, of course not. I mean a deep, dark purple, violet with a tint to it."

"I'm not sure they make rocks that colour."

"Oh, it's far too pretty for rocks."

Theo's eyes glimmered as he laughed. "Well, if that's the case then I may as well through the whole damn book out of the window."

"No, don't, I want to read it now!"

"Of course you do," Theo said through an amused sigh. "I suppose I am due you a book, aren't I? I have far better options, but if you insist…"

"Well, I have to be able to tell your future, too, it's only fair."

"You want to one up me, is that it?"

"Of course," she teased, swallowing around the lingering lump in her throat. "That's always it. But for the sake of argument, tell me your favourite rock."

Theo laughed and shook his head. "You'll laugh at me. Call me cliche."

"Only if it is cliche."

"Emerald."

She swatted his shoulder, unable to stop the ripple of laughter that came from her. "You are a cliche, Theodore Nott."

"And you're a tremendous surprise, Aurora Black."

She smiled, a small warmth blooming in her chest. "Tell me more about this book of yours, then. I'm in the mood for something boring."

"I aim to please, Lady Black." She sighed, leaning her head on his shoulder. Her head still spy with everything she'd read, everything she'd heard, and all the anxieties the day had brought out in her still cut through her. But they were filled slightly by the sound of Theo's voice, by the way he left her to solace but drew her out of her spiral, with an expert touch. Like he knew her, more than she wanted to be known, and more than she had thought anybody would want to know her.