As summer drew near, the northern days grew longer, and the sun finally returned. Yet, this did not bring peace.

The month of April was marred by all-out war across the school, with Umbridge dictating the Inquisitorial Squad, most of whom, to Aurora's annoyance, were indeed living up to their reputation and going out of their way to make school a nightmare for other students.

More than once she had to intervene when she spotted Draco or Drina Bulstrode picking on a first or second year, deducting points or giving out detentions for crimes as innocuous as tying their tie incorrectly (apparently, there was a rule about it, somewhere). The youngest Creevey brother had stammered out his gratitude to her and taken off running when she snapped at Draco to get his act together and stop targeting children, which resulted in him shoving roughly past her and her almost hexing him in return.

Quidditch practices hit their lowest point. The atmosphere was the sourest it had ever been, the team divided. Aurora was sure by now that Greg and Vince had been told to start aiming Bludgers her way, just so that she wouldn't get to play in their final match of the year. Draco either ignored her presence or barked her surname to get her attention, like they were further apart even than strangers. Some nights she didn't even want to go to Quidditch practice. All the joy had been sucked out of it, and she could now barely remember the time that Draco had taught her how to fly and raced her across the manor gardens like there was nothing in the world that could force them to the ground.

One evening in late April, she managed to excuse herself from the end of practice to take on a patrol of the castle with Theo, at Umbridge's request. Apparently a group of Ravenclaw second years were suspected of setting off booby traps in the western corridor to catch Filch's cat. When asked, Elise had told Aurora there was nothing going on, but she should conveniently forget about the passage that ran between the library and the entrance to North Tower on her patrols. Aurora did not think it necessary to inquire any further.

She and Theo were wandering along the charms corridor for the fifth time that evening, discussing the dance club's upcoming showcase, when she heard whispering nearby and the telltale shuffling of feet beneath a cloak. Putting a hand on Theo's arm, she pursed her lips and tried to locate the source of the noise.

"Potter's looking for me," she whispered to Theo, who turned around, frowning.

"How do you know?"

"He's hiding. I can tell he's near. Quiet, you'll be able to hear him."

Theo went silent for a moment, and Aurora could hear the shuffling of multiple pairs of feet nearby. If she really looked, if she really concentrated, she could just about feel where they were lingering.

"Are you sure?" Theo asked after a moment, looking at her with some concern. "I can't hear or see anything."

"Just focus, over there—"

Potter appeared suddenly beside the tapestry of Garnuk's defeat, and Theo stepped back, blinking in surprise. "Huh. I can see that."

"I need to speak to you," Potter told Aurora, looking past Theo as though he didn't exist. Aurora glared at him in return, stepping closer to Theo, just to make a point. "About your dad."

"Why?" Her heartbeat quickened. "Is there something wrong?"

"No. It's just, personal stuff." Aurora frowned at Potter, but he looked hesitantly at Theo.

"Anything you have to say to me can be said in front of Theo," she told him. "It's quite alright."

"I kind of wanted this to be you and me."

"Then why did you bring Weasley and Granger?"

"They're my backup!"

"For what?" When he didn't answer, she scoffed and rolled her eyes, before turning to Theo. "Sorry my godbrother's such a twat."

"I'm not! It's about my parents, too."

That changed things. Aurora turned and stared at him, quite confused, and Theo told her, "It's really alright. I'll pretend we had to separate to track down a first year out of bed or something. I'll be back in ten, fifteen minutes?"

Aurora didn't like the idea, but she nodded anyway, and squeezed his hand in goodbye. "Don't get into any trouble."

"Like what?" he asked with a teasing grin. "All the trouble's right here."

She tried to suppress her answering smile, as he gave Potter a hard, skeptical look before wandering in the other direction, leaving them to it. Then there was the telltale sound of Hermione and Ron shuffling away in the darkness, and Aurora knew she and Potter were alone.

"Well?" she asked, impatient. "What is it?"

"Well, you know how I've been having Occlumency lessons off Snape?" Aurora nodded, crossing her arms. "The other night when Fred and George had Umbridge kicking off about their pranks, he left and I sort of looked in the Pensive in his office? And I saw… My dad. Bullying Snape."

"Oh. Right."

"Your dad was there too, but it was my dad doing it. Had him hanging upside down, making fun of him in front of everyone. And my mum was furious, called my dad a toerag and they just — it was like she hated him. And he was horrible. And I couldn't stop thinking about it so I used the mirror to speak to Sirius and he said she didn't hate him, and that my dad was good and I want to believe him but…" He trailed off, leaning against the wall. "I mean, it's Snape. He's a git."

"That's very true."

"But the way my dad acted, was like how Dudley treats people. And my mum hated him!"

Aurora looked at him, frowning, trying to work out why he was telling her this. "I assume she changed her mind, then."

"You didn't see it. She really hated him. And my dad was just showing off, by attacking Snape, and your mum defended him, or tried to, and then he called her a mudblood and it was — I don't know. It's just — it's not how I saw them."

"Your parents?" He nodded. "Well, I suppose families do have a terrible habit of turning out to be different than we imagined." She sighed, and leaned back against a wall. After a moment, he joined her, frown still etched on his face. "I don't really know what you want me to say, Potter, I hope you realise that. I don't have answers for you."

"I know. I suppose I just wondered if you'd kind of felt the same? You know, not knowing your parents, thinking certain things about them and being wrong."

She met his question with a wry smile. "I don't think I'd ever heard a kind word spoken about my father until after I'd already proven his innocence. I'm not sure I can help you with that. But, my mother — I don't know, I didn't really have an idea of who she was. I knew she was muggleborn and she was dead, and that was kind of all I was allowed to wonder about. Now I have more of an idea. But, I don't know. I think, we didn't really know them. They're not quite real."

"They are real to me," Harry said hotly, as though she had grievously insulted him.

"I'm not trying to — I'm just saying, they're never going to live up to what you imagined them to be. But, about your dad, I'm sure my dad can tell you more than I can." She bit her lip. "Look, really, certain memories of mine would probably paint you as much worse than you really are. And whatever you saw your dad do to Snape, I'm not saying that's fine or anything but, Snape obviously hates him. Memories aren't objective. But." She hesitated a moment, too long; Harry narrowed his eyes and she failed to find anything else to say. "I can't remember if I told you that Hestia sent me my mother's diaries. I've learned rather a lot about her and her friends through those. From the looks of things, Snape was rather awful to all of them, but your mother was one of his closest friends, for a time, much to the annoyance of my own mother. They rather came to blows over it, too, but it's clear they loved each other. Just, don't worry about it too much."

"But my dad… He was awful."

"It seems Snape was, too. Probably between his memories and my mother's writing, there's some sort of middle ground where they're all just people, who kind of sucked, but could also be good."

This seemed to get through something in Harry's head, for he nodded, and leaned back against the wall. "I just thought they'd love each other from the start. I mean, that's kind of stupid, I know. I thought they'd at least like each other."

"Maybe they did. They seemed to get along at times — according to my mother, even though Lily seemed to dislike our dads and their friends, sometimes, when it took her fancy. And they liked each other enough to make you, so."

Harry glared at her, but with the flicker of a smile, and Aurora knew she'd won, though what, she did not know. "Suppose you're right. Your dad said she didn't really hate him, but, I don't know. I've just never seen either of them like that."

She could see in his eyes a feeling she often had herself; that sort of longing for an unknown, to uncover everything that had been kept from them, to simply be allowed to know, and be assured by knowledge of who their parents were.

"If it helps," she said, "I know your mother kept a diary for a time, too. Not as extensive as my mother's, but if you asked Hestia, she might be able to show you it. Or at least, give you more of Lily's perspective."

"You think?"

"Probably. It's worth a try, at least."

Harry pursed his lips. "Alright. I don't know if I want to read that, but, thanks, Aurora."

She gave a small smile, but failed to come up with an appropriate response. It was not no problem, because it made her feel deeply uncomfortable to think she had had a personal conversation with Potter, and he was not welcome because that feeling made her want to run away as fast as she could. "How is the Occlumency anyway?" she asked, and he blinked, startled.

"What d'you mean?"

He was trying too hard to be casual. "Well, I realised I never asked."

"I'm still going. It's fine."

She narrowed her eyes. "You sound like you're lying. Why are you lying?"

He huffed, turning away. "Snape kind of stopped my lessons, when he caught me snooping in his Pensieve."

Unfortunately, she could almost understand why. "So you're not having Occlumency lessons?"

"No. But don't tell your dad, I told him everything was fine! He was going to come up and start a fight otherwise, and Dumbledore didn't want anyone knowing about the lessons, and Umbridge would definitely find out if Sirius started a fuss."

That was unfortunately true. "I'd suggest trying to make Snape reconsider, but I can't say I would if I were you. But you can practice on your own, right? Now you know what to do? Or at least, do some sort of exercises."

"Sure."

It was unconvincing. Aurora looked at him flatly. "Occlumency is a very difficult, but very rewarding, form of magic. You should at least keep trying."

"I could never do it with Snape."

"So? If you can master it on your own, then that's all the better, isn't it?"

"Suppose."

With a sigh, Aurora clapped him on the shoulder and said, "Don't let Snape get in your way, alright. He's a git — always has been, probably always will be. Now, if that's all, you're going to have to get back to your dorm before I give you a detention."

"You're not giving me a detention."

She grinned. "Not if you get back to your dorm, with Granger and Weasley. I assume they're nearby." She took out the map, spotted them lingering round the corner, not very far from where Theo was. "You're going to be alright?"

Potter hesitated, then shrugged. "Probably. Just wanted to get your thoughts. It'll be fine."

She wasn't entirely sure that she believed him.

-*

In mid-May, Graham Montague's parents came to visit him in the Hospital Wing, and left white-faced and shaken, furious and heartbroken at the same time. Aurora could hardly focus on her studies some days, worrying about her friend. Cassius was worse. His heart wasn't in Quidditch anymore, she could tell. She wasn't quite sure why, but she knew that he often sat alone at the end of practice, with a worried look that broke her heart.

She approached him one such evening, herself sufficiently angered by Draco that she knew she couldn't go back into the common room for quite some time anyway. Cassius barely looked at her as she sat down on the cold bench with him, staring into the fading light.

"Tough practice," she started, then hesitated. Cassius merely grunted. "Are you alright?"

"Sure. Fine."

"Right. Just, you don't really seem it."

"And? How's that any of your business?"

"Because you're my friend," she said in a clipped tone, "and I know you're going through a rough time, like all of us, and I don't like seeing it. Apart from anything else, we're going to lose the cup, and I know you don't want that."

"I don't want Graham to be fucking dying either," Cassius said. "If we win, it should be with him."

"Well, it's unlikely that it will. But we still have to win. For him, no?"

Cassius snorts. "And how d'you propose we do that? The team's falling to pieces. Your cousin doesn't know what he's doing, Vaisey and Urquhart are bigger hindrances than helps, Crabbe and Goyle wouldn't know a rule book if you slapped them with it. There's no point to it."

"You don't mean that. You're not meant to be so despondent, Cassius. Come on. You love Quidditch for Quidditch! It's your career!"

"I know, I know. But we were going to win together. Going out in a blaze of glory, you know? And now it just feels like a bad omen." He shrugged. "You just go on ahead. I don't want to talk."

That, she could understand. Still, she felt, for a moment, that more had to be said. That restless feeling returned beneath her skin. "Fine," she muttered. "But, I want Graham to be better, too. I'm not exactly enjoying having my cousin yell at me everytime I try something new, or tell me I'm shit when I know I'm not. And I'm worried about Graham. You're not the only one."

Cassius shrugged, and said nothing. After a moment, Aurora had no choice but to sigh and get to her feet, grabbing her broom and kit with her. "See you later, then. Mind you don't freeze out here."

"Sure."

In silence, Aurora turned and headed out of the stadium, trying to ignore the nervous feeling inside of her. Every day the world seemed darker and more twisted, and she could feel it in her bones, like some deep power was gathering. She could almost smell it, tension in the late spring air, painted red in the beginnings of sunset.

"How's Warrington?"

At the sound of Draco's voice, Aurora froze, and turned to the shadows just outside the stadium where he stood. "Fine. We were just talking about Graham. What do you want?"

Draco shrugged and slunk away from the shadows, following her. That nervous feelings intensified; it were as though her body was yelling at her to run, and get as far away from him as she could, telling her that something was deeply wrong and dangerously off-balance.

"Thought I should check in with my team. As a captain."

"Talk to Warrington yourself, then. I'm not a message owl, and certainly not on your behalf."

She picked up the pace, looking straight ahead, but with a hand tight around her wand. Coming to her side, Draco told her, "Umbridge reckons Dumbledore's planning something around exam time."

"I know. She told me at the Inquisitorial Squad meeting, with everybody else."

"Just thought you might know something you're not telling any of the rest of us."

"Sorry to disappoint your lack of faith. If you don't mind, I'd like to be quick. I need to shower in my dorm."

There was a moment of silence broken only by the sounds of them walking, faster and faster, toward the castle, until Draco said, "I know you're not really on Umbridge's side, you know."

"Why on earth would you think that?"

"Because you're obviously on Potter's side."

"Enlightening."

"He's going to be the death of you, you know."

"Is that so?" She couldn't help but hurt at his word choice, and to imagine his father's cold eyes, his aunt's delirious grin. "Thank you for the warning, though I don't think I'll need it. Might you stop talking before I get a headache from the sound of your voice?"

"That's insubordination," he said, almost gleeful. "I could have you taken off the team for that."

"Do it, then," she muttered. "Stop being a twat, Draco — whatever you think you're going to get out of me by being a pest, you're going to be disappointed."

"That's also insubordination."

"It's the truth, and I don't care. I have neither the time nor energy to deal with you tonight."

She stomped up the steps of the castle, not looking behind as she heard his footsteps echo in her wake, and saw his shadow spill over the floor of the Entrance Hall. "Do you know why Potter's getting Remedial Potions?"

She tried not to let her surprise show. "Because he's crap at Potions, probably."

"Is it really Remedial Potions?"

All Aurora could do was shrug. "How should I know? I can't imagine Snape's having him for tea." She rolled her eyes. "Why are you asking me this now?"

"Just curious."

"Of course. That's believable, Draco." Aurora glared at him over her shoulder. "If you want to accuse me of something, speak plainly. Otherwise, let me enjoy my night on my own."

As she turned, Draco's gaze had been drawn, rathr unsubtle, to her right hand, where the family ring and now the lapis nocte ring rested. His gaze felt hot against her skin, made her heart pound louder and a voice in her head shout something indicipherable.

"Goodnight," Aurora said, and picked up her pace, hurrying down to the dungeons. Somewhere along the way, her cousin had disappeared, and she entered the common room alone, sparing a wave for her friends by the window before heading to her dormitory. Despite the long and intense practice, an energy had returned that made her want to run a mile.

Having seen that Gwen was still in the common room, Aurora locked the door behind her, flung her bag and broom on the floor, and then knelt by the window, staring into the depths of the lake. She closed her hand over the lapis nocte ring and shivered. It was pulsing, sending small tremors through her finger, cold little waves lapping at her skin.

She tugged it off, wincing in pain at the way its band seemed to dig into her skin. When it lay in her palm, she could see the smoky shadows swirling in the dark stone, and the glimmer of something almost emerald around the edge. A trick of the light, perhaps.

With a pounding heart, she whispered, "Castella?"

The room temperature dropped instantly. "I can feel you." Her spirit pressed into Aurora's chest, a magic she recognised but was still not a part of her.

Then she was there, Aurora felt her, a presence at her neck. "Fight him," her voice whispered in Aurora's ear. "The boy challenges you, child."

"I know. But I can't fight him. Not now."

"You ought to. It is too close in here; I feel trapped. I did not like that."

"Because of Draco?"

"He is a challenger. A would-be usurper, in the wrong circumstances." Cold flared across the palm of Aurora's hand. The flames of the torch on the wall flickered. Upon her neck, Julius hissed. "I do not like him, Lady Black."

"Nor do I," Aurora admitted.

Castella did not speak again. When the ring went back to its normal temperature, Aurora set it back on her finger again, and tried to ignore the restlessness that built inside of her once again.

On the morning of the Slytherin team's final match against Hufflepuff, Aurora found herself in the dressing room alone an hour before they were to start the match. It was rare that she was in here, as the only girl on the team. But she could still see the boxes Graham had been trying to get them to move earlier in the year. Old frames and medals and photographs poked out of them, and Aurora wandered over out of bored curiosity, to find framed pictures of the old teams from years gone by. With a frown, she looked further, setting each year aside until she found 1977.

Her gaze fell upon the Seeker in the front row, with a painfully familiar face halfway between her father and Draco. He had her father's eyes and hair and Draco's sneer and smallness.

Regulus.

He looked like any normal child, albeit a rather snobbish one, from the way he looked down his nose at the photographer. Just a child. There was no real mystery about him; he was plain, he was the Slytherin Seeker, and by the trophy the team captain held, he had done his job rather nicely.

But she just wanted to know him. She wanted to ask him questions and understand what he was and what he had done and why, always, why. "Who are you?" she whispered, staring at him. He did not speak. She wished he could, that someone had thought this child's voice was worth preserving.

"What are you looking at?"

It was Draco again. "Why are you following me?"

"I'm not." He crossed to her side. "I'm captain, I have to be here early — why are you snooping about?"

"Bored," she said, hastily putting the photo back. But he caught the movement and picked it up, frowning before his own gaze caught sight of her uncle. To her surprise, it was a fierce look of hatred that contorted his features.

"Don't tell me you're getting sentimental now."

"I'm not. I was merely curious."

He gave her a dubious sideways glance, then raised his eyebrows with a shrug. "Suit yourself."

There was a long moment of stiff, frustrated silence, but Aurora refused to move first. For a second, Draco inhaled as though he were about to say something, but Aurora was spared by the sudden entrance of Felix Vaisey, complaining loudly about Hufflepuff's Seeker, Cedric Diggory, and his 'pretty face'.

Aurora set the picture back in its box and didn't look at Draco again until they were on the pitch, preparing to take to the air for the final time that season. It was a cool and calm day, perfect for flying in, but Aurora felt none of her usual sense of anticipation, only dread at the thought they might lose, and also at the thought they might win, with her cousin taking all the glory for himself.

The match dragged on and on and on. Aurora tried to bridge the gap between Cassius and Felix, who seemed incapable of managing a successful pass between them, but still the goals came slowly; the Hufflepuff Keeper was quick and precise, guarding her hoops with practiced ease. Aurora only managed three goals; Cassius two, and Felix one. Hufflepuff, on the other hand, had two hundred points by the time Draco first turned and veered into a dive, his gaze set on the golden snitch.

He was fast, but Diggory was faster, doubling back instantly in a flip and soaring down, right on Draco's tail. Aurora didn't dare look, only tackled the Hufflepuff Chaser and caused them to drop the Quaffle, which she grabbed and clutched close to her chest, hurting across the pitch to the goal hoops. When she tossed the Quaffle threw, she knew by the Keeper's sudden distraction that the crowd's cheering was not for her.

She turned, sharp, to see Diggory's fist holding the Snitch aloft and Draco's furious look. The whole team, dejected, floated down to the ground, where Draco was waiting for them, glaring.

"To the changing rooms," he barked, turning around as soon as they reached the ground. All they could do was follow. Aurora already knew he had nothing good to say to them.

The moment the changing room door closed behind the team, Draco whirled around to face Aurora and her fellow Chasers and snapped, "What do you three think you're playing at?"

"Excuse me?" Felix said, eyebrows raised. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Six goals between you! Six! That's all?"

"Seven, actually," Aurora said, and her cousin threw her a look of disgust.

"We lost to Hufflepuff! Don't you think we should have been playing a bit better than fucking Hufflepuff?"

"You're the one who lost the Snitch," Aurora sneered, folding her arms. "It's done, Draco. Get over it."

"Get over it? We should have won! Don't you care that we didn't win?"

Of course she did. The shame of it, and the frustration at losing again, was like cold poison running through her blood.

"Yes. But not enough to yell at my teammates for my failure."

Draco scoffed and turned away, tossing his broom in a corner. "You're just jealous."

"Of what? Your Seeking abilities? Yes, I forgot you were the one who managed to finally beat Harry Potter!"

"You can't hold that over me forever!"

"Watch me."

"Um," Cassius broke in, with a short cough, "I think we're all just going to lock our stuff up and shower in the dorms, if that's alright?"

Draco held Aurora's gaze with a sharp, venomous look in his eye, then said stiffly, "Fine. Go. No point sticking around considering we've lost the cup already."

"There's always next year," Vincent mumbled in a consoling way, but Draco didn't even spare him a look as he dismissed him with a wave of his hand.

The rest of the team trickled out of the room, but Draco didn't move and so neither did Aurora. "Don't blame the rest of the team for what happened today, Draco. You've been a crap captain, training's been hell, and if you hadn't gone after the snitch at the first sight, when Diggory hadn't noticed it at all, then we'd still be playing right now. He was way closer to it than you were, and it should've been obvious."

"I think you've forgotten who's captain here, Aurora."

"I don't give a shit who's captain, Draco. I'm just telling you my opinion. Everyone thinks you're being a twat."

"Get out, then," Draco scoffed, "and shut up. I could easily have you taken off the team if I wanted."

"Do it," she challenged, "I don't want a captain that loses every game."

"I did not lose every game!"

"You've lost more than I have."

He snapped forward as she tried to turn and walk away; his hand closed right around her forearm, and Aurora let out a surprised gasp of pain. "Draco!" Beneath her skin, a hot thrum of power started up, like some caged bird had set its wings against her flesh.

"You can't speak to me like that," he spat at her. "I won't have you treat me like this."

"Like what? Get a grip, Draco." But the tightness of his hand around her arm unnerved her. Her chest tightened; something cold bound around her ribs. "Why are you being like this? Why now?"

He was too confident, challenging her, and she did not like it one bit. She didn't trust that him appearing at her back all the time was pure coincidence, especially with what Theo had told her about Pansy. "You started this," he hissed. "I warned you what would happen."

Her stomach turned. "And what's going to happen, Draco? Hm? You can tell me." She took a step closer, looking him right in the eye. "We're family, after all."

He answered with a sneer, grip tightening, and as Aurora reached for the wand in her pocket, she felt a spark of anger release from her chest into her arm and fingertips, acidic and bitter.

Draco leapt back as though she had just burned him, before her fingers had even closed around her wand. Something new slashed through the air; a magic, but not her own. She still knew it. Castella. She felt her presence.

"What the hell?" Draco snapped, letting go and nursing his hand. "What did you just do?"

Aurora blinked. The pull of restless energy in her chest receded, and from around her neck, Julius hissed. The ring on her finger twinkled in the light.

"Don't put your hands on me again, Draco."

He glowered, nursing that hand as though he had been bitten by a feral cat. "Get out," he snapped. "And don't expect me to let you back on the team next year. I don't want to deal with you anymore."

"The feeling's mutual," she sneered, picking up her broom from where she had left it on the bench. Her hands shook as she did so. "And don't try to threaten me, Draco. You're embarrassing yourself."

But as she stormed out, she felt the creeping tension at her neck and the sudden cold of her hands. It was the feeling like she just had to hit something, to thrust out all of her energy and anger. When she stomped up to the castle, she felt the slowly blooming rosebushes wither at her side, and pretended she didn't.