Madam Pomfrey forced Aurora and Gwen to stop talking and go to sleep at half past nine, arguing that they were both still exhausted even if they didn't know it, and needed rest. Aurora did not get the chance to argue; the moment she closed her eyes and lay down, the world faded into dreams, haunted by spectres of the veil, and the memory of Bellatrix's laughter.
In early daylight, many hours later, Aurora woke, bleary-eyed and still nestled in her blankets, and faced the last person she had expected to see.
"Draco?"
He turned, blinking slowly out of sleep, and then stared at her, like an owl caught by bright light. Time ticked by slowly in the early dawn glow. "Aurora," he said, throat tight. "Hi. I..."
His cheeks went pink, and he pressed his lips together.
Staring, Aurora managed to come to her senses enough to ask him, "What are you doing here?"
"I — I just... Had to check." He turned away. "Go to sleep, alright?"
She blinked, slowly, head tired. The world faded again. The next time she looked up, he was gone, without so much as a rustle of curtains to denote his leaving, and the sun was brighter outside the window.
He did not return. Aurora woke up feeling much less pained than she had when she had gone to sleep, and after Madam Pomfrey gave her her breakfast and her morning potions, Harry Potter came to sit by Aurora's bedside, looking pale and altogether unprepared for whatever conversation he wanted to start.
"I'm not going to bite you," she told him wearily. "My jaw hurts too much." Silence fell. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you about the prophecy. I really wasn't allowed, and I didn't know if I was even right, no one was even allowed to confirm it to me, but... I was fairly certain."
"I figured," Harry said in a heavy voice. "Dumbledore told me everything the other night. What it says."
"Oh. All of it?"
"Yeah. I don't know how much you know, but… Basically, I have to be the one to kill Voldemort. It can only be me. He marked me as his own, his equal, and now…" He splayed his hands.
"I'm sorry," Aurora said. "That's… Quite a burden."
"You're telling me," he muttered, and stared into the distance.
There was little that she felt she could say to that. "Do you know… How everything happened last night?"
"I think so. Dumbledore… Well, he reckons someone told the Death Eaters about how the mirrors work, and someone got their hands on Sirius' while he was away on that mission, and that they knew he was away. But I don't know how they knew. I only told Ron and Hermione about it…"
Pansy. She had told Pansy. And Theo and Gwen, but it was Pansy, she already knew it in her heart, and the cold knife of betrayal sank even deeper. "That's alright. I know who it was." Her friend. She should have listened to Leah, should have been smarter. She knew Pansy might be playing her with Umbridge, knew that their friendship was spiralling away from them. She hadn't thought Pansy would stoop this low. Even if she hadn't done it by choice. "I know there's still weeks left of term, but as soon as I get the all-clear, I'm going to ask to move home early. Exams are over, there's no point and my dad doesn't sound like he's going to be out of St. Mungo's anytime soon. You — you could join me. If you like. Andromeda's couch is pretty comfy, so I've heard."
"I — yeah. Maybe." He paused, and she frowned at him. She had thought the response to that would be an instant agreement. "Dumbledore says I have to go back to Privet Drive."
She scoffed. "I doubt they're expecting you. Didn't my dad tell them you're not going back after what happened last summer?"
"Only for a week or so. I'm safe there, apparently."
"I wouldn't call being locked in a room with nothing to eat safe, Potter."
"Yeah, well… I'm safe from Voldemort, at any rate. It renews this blood protection, from my mother, so he can't hurt me, as long as I go back every year."
"I've never heard of that."
"I've never heard of anyone but me surviving a killing curse, either," Harry said, and she had to give him that one.
"So, what? You're special. Chosen as his equal…" She scoffed. "I still think you should come with me."
"It's only for a week."
"It's only because Dumbledore told you to," she retorted, rolling her eyes. "But, I suppose, if it keeps you alive. Not that it's been very useful at keeping you out of trouble so far."
"No. But I am alive. Just like him."
"Hm." They lapsed into a strained, cold silence, trying and failing to listen in on the muted conversations of the rest of the hospital wing. "I heard Ron's quite badly scarred," she said. "Is he alright?"
"I guess. He's trying to be optimistic. Thinks they make him look badass."
Aurora snorted. "Always good to look on the bright side of life, I suppose."
"Yeah." He cracked a grin, but it fell quickly. "Listen, Aurora, the other night... What's the last thing you remember?"
She blinked, staring at him. "You. I was running to you, I..." She looked away, swallowing tightly. "I thought you were dying."
"Right." A pause. "Well, I wasn't."
"Oh, good. My efforts were for nothing, then."
"No, I — I mean, it felt a bit like it. Voldemort possessed me. Properly, I mean. He was in my head and making me speak and I thought I was going to die, it hurt so much, and I managed to get him out, but it — Dumbledore reckons that, with the combination of you being there, might have caused this explosion. Which knocked you out."
"Oh. Well done, me, then."
"You don't know why, do you?"
"I... I was trying to channel this... Certain spell." Even now, she could not bring herself to tell him the truth and let him in on that secret, locked away inside of her. "It didn't really go as planned."
"Right." Potter considered her the way one considered a caged lion, too close to the bars of its enclosure. "Just, your magic, all night was — it was weird."
"Yes. It was."
Silence fell. "You don't... Know why?"
"I have my suspicions, but I'm not going to tell you if you're only asking because Dumbledore told you to."
"I'm not — I'm asking because I think — when I looked at you, it wasn't just you. There were things — people, like ghosts, but not — coming out of you. And something about them felt really... It was like I could feel them. In here." He pointed to his heart. "And I don't know why."
Cold sliced through her chest, and she turned, seeing the way he trembled. "Nor do I," she whispered. "I wish I did. But I've got more questions than answers right now, Harry, and I don't — I can't do this. I don't know what to think or say, to help either of us."
"Right." He braced his hands on his knees. "Well. Um, I'm going to see Ron again. You — you know about Lord MacMillan—"
"Of course I do."
"And Hestia?"
"Yes."
"Yeah. I thought so. Okay." He stood, frowning. "Well, I think Elise wants to see you later, and I'm sure I'll say hi to her then, too, but... Yeah."
He made to shuffle awkwardly past the curtains, but at the last moment Aurora stopped him, knowing somehow that she would regret it if she didn't say something. "Harry?" He turned, blinking.
"Yeah?"
"I, um, I'm glad you're not dead."
For a second he stared at her like she had lost her mind, and then managed a smile, nodding back. "I'm glad you're alive, too. Feel better soon, yeah?"
-*
Aurora's body still ached, right through the the bone. But the pain started to recede into the background somewhat on her third day in the Hospital Wing, and she was able to convince Madam Pomfrey that she was well enough to visit her father.
"I'll check myself into St. Mungo's if I feel like I'm going to pass out from the pain," she told the nurse, who did not seem to find this promise very comforting.
"Your symptoms are not going to go away, Miss Black," she informed her, "you cannot simply grit your teeth and bear it."
"Then I can't just stay in bed all day either."
"You should. You need rest. I'll allow a few hours, for your peace of mind, but you must come back. And get checked over by the Healers there while you're at it, I've been wanting to have you tested by them."
Aurora wrinkled her nose and crossed her arms nearly all the way before she was stopped by the pain lancing across the back of her neck. "I don't need tested. We know exactly what's wrong with me."
"We don't, actually," Madam Pomfrey reminded her, "the symptoms of the Transmogrifian Curse are myriad, and you suffered many other injuries, as well as a very strange burst of magic. I'm booking you in for a test with the long-term curse damage ward at four o'clock. You can leave here at noon."
Aurora, despite the pain, beamed.
Dumbledore stopped by the Hospital Wing briefly before she left, informing her of her father's stable condition and telling her what she had suspected, that he still didn't know how the Death Eaters knew to take her father's mirror from him, or how exactly the plot was hatched. But Aurora knew, and she was sure he knew that, too. She just had to confirm it first, in her own way, wrap her head around yet another pain.
She didn't really need to confirm it, but she wanted to. There was a fire of fury within her, and it needed to be unleashed.
Robin walked with her to the common room. Gwen was still in the Hospital Wing, but recovering well, and he was only going to be away from her long enough to make sure Aurora didn't get ambushed on her way through the dungeons. Theo, on the other hand, had been dealing with family problems all morning, and had only been able to tell her that he'd be back by lunch.
As Aurora entered the dungeon through the portrait wall, her gaze immediately sought out Pansy. She was sat on the usual sofas with the usual people, smiling and laughing as though nothing at all was wrong, and as much as Aurora wanted to make herself believe that it was all an act, a necessity, she could not do so, anymore. Her stomach clenched, and nausea swept over her, striking her still and rooting her to the spot as her world narrowed in on her ex-friends; their ignorant smiles and callous joy. They didn't even think of her.
Robin, catching her eye line, tried steering Aurora towards the girls' dormitories with a hand on her arm. "It's not worth the fight," he muttered, quite uncharacteristically. But he seemed to have developed a protective instinct over the last couple of days, and when Aurora caught his eye, she knew that he was just trying to stop her from doing more damage. She didn't know how to tell him she appreciated it.
"Fuck off, Oliphant." She shook him off and started walking towards Pansy. "I need to see if she can look me in the eye or not."
Blaise noticed her first, and his eyes widened in alarm. He shoved Draco in the ribs, and the laughter that had just rippled around the group died away as each one of them turned to look, quiet and still.
"Pansy, dear," Aurora called with faux politeness, smiling through gritted teeth as she tried to push away the pain still burning through her chest. "A word."
Pansy sat rooted to her spot next to Draco, staring. "I... You're doing better."
"No thanks to you." Her gaze swept around the assembled group; Draco and Blaise and Lucille and Millie, Vincent and Greg, the Carrow sisters, even Daphne and Astoria, who looked like they wanted nothing more than to shrink into the cushions. "This is a quaint little gathering isn't it?" She made sure her gaze lingered on Daphne, whose cheeks flamed. Her family had yet to declare a side. Daphne seemed even more reticent than her grandfather.
"We haven't all been together in quite some time," she drawled sweetly as she swung her legs over the arm of Pansy and Draco's sofa and tried to hide the gasp of pain that burst cold through her. "Months, in fact. I think we're well overdue a little chat."
Pansy stared at her, hands trembling. "Are you okay?"
"Never been better," she said coldly, smiling. Even Draco looked so concerned, glancing between Aurora and Pansy like he was worried a bomb was about to go off. "How about you? How's your father holding up?"
Pansy swallowed tightly, looking around. There was little she could say in this group, of Lucille and Millie and Vincent and Greg and Draco. How distant Aurora had become from them all. "I think you know by now. He's in Azkaban."
"You don't say." Aurora pouted in false sympathy. "How tragic."
She leaned in, and Pansy stayed where she was but Draco leaned away, hands digging into the side of the sofa. "I do feel sorry for you. I know what it is, to have a parent locked in a cell for years on end, with no one and nothing for company except their own worst enemies. Not everyone survives. My father told me most only make it a year. Death is a blessing to them." She didn't want to think about Mr Parkinson's death; she had known his kind smiles and willingness to talk about the newspaper and the way he made stupid jokes that made his daughter roll her eyes. But he had looked at her, and all the innocent people she was with, and thought he was happy to fight children. For years before she was even born, he had been happy to have people killed because he thought they were inferior. If he hadn't known her already, he would not have hesitated. She could no longer do herself or anybody else the dishonour of accepting herself as an exception.
"Don't," Pansy said in a wavering voice, curling into Draco's side. "Don't talk about him dying."
"Oh, I'm sorry. Should I talk about my father instead? He's dying, too." She leaned in close, so close she could hear Pansy's scared breaths rattle in her chest. A cold smile overtook her. "I hope you've gotten whatever it is you wanted. What did they promise you, Pansy? A new pony? A few more pretty dresses? Perhaps those diamond earrings you had your eye on for Christmas and didn't get because Daddy's investment fell through."
"I had to, Aurora, my father — I was told I had to, but I didn't want you hurt, I swear, I'd never do anything to hurt you." Aurora let out a cold laugh. The worst part was, she thought Pansy probably believed her own lie. "I told them not to hurt you," she said in a whisper, like she was afraid to admit it before anyone but Aurora and Draco.
"Well, they did. And even if I was completely intact, not a scratch on me, do you think that would be enough for forgiveness? Or are you just trying to find a way to forgive yourself?"
"I can explain."
"Can you? Here? Before this group — are you sure you should protest your innocence, defend your moral intent?"
Pansy could not beg for forgiveness in this forum, surrounded by the children of her father's peers. To do so would be to endanger herself; to pretend to ally herself to Aurora, to bow and scrape before a halfblood enemy, would be the final stain on her family. So she would not.
Pansy swallowed tightly. "You weren't supposed — I thought you were smarter than to go with him!"
It was just what Lucius had said. Lead, sinking, in the pit of her stomach, confirmed her worst fear. Aurora stepped back from Pansy's slackening grasp, her hands shaking and heart pounding and illness and sickly warmth rising in her head. "So you did. You betrayed me, Pansy? One of my oldest friends."
"I didn't want..." She trailed off, glancing at Draco. "I did what I had to do. For the cause."
"For the cause? Which cause is that? Wiping me and every other half blood or muggleborn off the face of the earth?"
"It's not like that—"
"Yes, it is. Don't pretend like any of you wouldn't support that, anyway."
"Please," Pansy whispered, leaning in to speak in her ear, "I couldn't say no! My parents asked me to, if I didn't do it, they would have been the ones who suffered from it!"
"I know," Aurora said, gut churning. "I know. But I — I'm your best friend. Or so I thought."
"You are — Aurora, you are my best friend—"
"My father is unconscious in hospital! My cousin has only recently revived! They could have died, I could have died, Potter could have died, and you — you used me! Me, Pansy! Have the past ten years meant nothing to you? Do I mean nothing to you? Just something useful, fun for a little while, who you can drop or hurt or almost get killed!"
"I'm so sorry—"
"I don't care if you're sorry!" she yelled, rage exploding from her in a fiery scream. Heads turned towards them, staring. "You hurt me, Pansy, you betrayed me!"
"I had to—"
"I don't care if you had to! I trusted you, I would never have done that to you or your family, any of you! I — it doesn't matter. I should have known not to trust you. How could I imagine you'd choose me, over your parents?"
"I wish I hadn't—"
"But you did," she said, voice icy cold and low. "And you would do it again." Pansy didn't deny it. Aurora let out a low scoff, which manifested as more of a sob. "Because you had to. But I don't have to put up with this anymore." She took another step back. Pansy followed, arm outstretched, but Aurora shook her off.
"You know I don't want to do this," Pansy pleaded in a soft whisper, "I don't want to be on their side, I don't believe in it. Aurora, please, I don't want to — this is — I love you, you know that. You're my best friend, I didn't want to do this."
"But you're willing to go along with it."
"It's my family!"
"And my family are in hospital, because of you! My father is unconscious and they don't know when he'll wake up, if he ever will, and I've only had him back for two years and you — you know that! You know this would hurt me, and you knew I trusted you, that I've always trusted you, because of loyalty, but clearly that doesn't mean anything to you anymore! I know you don't want to." She gasped back on a sob, sniffling with tears. Robin put a hand on her shoulder, in an attempt to steady her. "'Cause loyalty's to family, right? And I've never had that perfect family like your parents, I know you don't believe in the same things they do, but I know that you love them too much to give them up, to not sacrifice your beliefs, so, you know, you and Draco, you're my best friends, you guys are my family, or you were, but it isn't blood! And it isn't pure blood, so it's meaningless, isn't it?"
"Aurora, I—"
"I know you don't want to fight me. I know you don't want to hurt me, but you were willing to let it happen, to play a role in it, for your family. But I won't ask you to put me first, Pansy, I won't ask you to care like I do. I wish I never had to ask you to. But you should know." Her gaze pierced Draco, and she knew the words would sting and confuse and endanger him, but she could not stop herself from speaking them. "Your father did try to save my life. It must be difficult to know a human shit like him has more of a backbone than you do."
Draco paled. Everybody who had been listening in seemed to take in a collective gasp; those whose own parents were connected to the Dark Lord exchanged glances, knowing how dangerous an allegation that was, knowing that it was treasonous, knowing that it would get back to Voldemort, and knowing that Draco would be punished. Aurora could no longer bring herself to care. He could burn; they all could. It was nothing more than they and their families deserved.
Aurora gave a cold smile and straightened up. Pansy breathed a sigh of relief, let out a small sob as she leaned back, and Aurora turned around and before she knew it, her hand had connected with Pansy's cheek. She wanted to cry but she couldn't cry, couldn't show an ounce of weakness here, and so she let her anger out another way.
Pansy's face snapped to the side and Draco let out a startled gasp. "Aurora, what the fuck!"
"Don't you try and tell me off," she snarled at him, even as she noticed the others rising in her periphery, wands out. She had no wand but in that moment it didn't feel like it mattered. One didn't need a wand, one didn't even need magic, to hurt another person. No, pain, and causing pain, was just human, innate and instinctual.
She stepped back, standing beside Robin, who was staring around warily, hand on his wand, ready to fight. "I hope you're all very pleased with yourselves," she said, making sure that her voice rang around the whole common room, that anyone who hadn't yet noticed what was going on would hear her, and stand to attention. "Your cowardice, your ignorance, your general idiocy."
"You're not frightening, Black," came Lucille's smooth voice. "You don't even have a wand."
"And who told you that, Lucille? Don't tell me you've been harbouring your murderer uncle after all?"
"You're not holding one—"
"Not all wizards need wands to do magic," she said silkily. "It's not my fault you're not bright enough to figure it out. Just like your mother still isn't clever enough to figure out your father's affair with his Secretary."
"How did you know about that—"
"—and how dear Daphne's father wasn't quick enough to realise he's in bed with a family of criminals."
Daphne's cheeks flared, and Flora Carrow leapt to her feet, furious. "Don't you dare—"
"Don't speak to me," Aurora said tiredly, flicking her wrist in dismissal at her. "You're not relevant here."
She let her gaze drop from Lucille to the boys to Millie, then Pansy and Draco, and to Blaise and Daphne sitting with them all, not speaking, not looking anybody in the eye. Cowards. Was this what she looked like, she wondered, to people like Harry and Hermione?
When she caught Pansy's eye again, the urge to cry rose up, but she pushed it down. Crying would not solve anything. Yet still she felt there was more to be said, more to be screamed at them, more anger to hurl out of her aching body. But she had to do the right thing. Move forward. She would not settle this with insults and the pain of broken friendships, but with action, with change, with taking everything she knew about these people and about herself and destroying them with it. See how they liked feeling like they were nothing.
The only one she cared for was Theo. But things would have to change there too. It was too dangerous. It could never be. It broke her heart, but she didn't want it to break any further.
"Aurora?" Now his voice broke through the cacophony in her head. "Robin? What's going on?"
His voice was pleasant enough, but she heard the note of worry there as he turned to Draco. "What's happening?"
"Nothing," Draco seethed. "She doesn't know what she's talking about. My father would never..." But he didn't dare finish the sentence. His tongue seemed to tie itself up in his cheek. "He pities you. That's — that's all. He doesn't care." He all but spat the word at her. "None of us care."
"I'm sure you don't. I just need everybody to know the facts. I'm sure you'll agree, I could say far worse."
"Aurora," Theo said, turning to her, "maybe don't threaten—"
"No, I'll do whatever I like, actually," Aurora said, stepping back so that she could survey all of them. "Truth is, you're all fucking cowards. And that's fine, because I think most people are, but you're also all fucking selfish, and spineless, and quite frankly, you disgust me. I'm ashamed I ever called myself one of you."
"No, you're not," Flora Carrow piped up, and Aurora turned on her, furious that she even dared to speak to her. "You wish you were one of us. You just realise now that you never were."
The words struck to her very core, and Aurora did not know how to refute them.
"This doesn't have anything to do with you, Flora," Theo said, turning to her. He placed a hand on Aurora's arm and she flinched, feeling the weight of every pair of eyes in the world upon it. "Come on, Aurora, Robin, let's go."
"Turning blood traitor now, are you, Nott?" came Vincent's voice, callously amused. "Bit bold for you."
"Yeah, well, maybe I'm bored of never using my own brain," he said, rolling his eyes.
"So you're going with her?" Lucille looked almost amused.
"Yes, actually—"
"Don't," Aurora said sharply, as he moved towards her. Theo stilled, frowning at her with a question in his eyes. She focused on Pansy, because all of a sudden she got the feeling that looking elsewhere, letting her mind stray elsewhere, would simply send her into panic. Her throat was already closing up, clogged by building tears. "I'll never forgive you, just so you know. There is nothing that you can ever do to justify this, or to make up for it. I have loved you and Draco my entire life. I thought of your families as my own and I have tried to protect them, and you, and that was foolish. You're not the sort of people I want anything to do with now, even if I could pretend you still cared. So I'm not going to anymore. And I hope you both know that the consequences of that are yours to bear the burden of."
And she turned so that no one would see her crying at the finality she had to put into her voice, at the pent-up pains both physical and emotional, so that she could pretend to be strong with those parting words instead of betraying the weak tremor of her lips over a sob. She walked as fast as she could, storming to the girls' dormitory and through the door, Theo and Robin behind her.
"Aurora," Robin called once they'd shut the door, "are you—"
"Go see Gwen," she told him, "I'll be fine."
"Are you sure? You don't seem all that—"
"I'll be fine, Robin, I have Theo! Gwen needs you!"
A moment of quiet, and then his footsteps retreated and Theo came to her side and wound an arm around her, and it was all Aurora could do to keep from just collapsing the second she entered her room.
"Aurora, what just happened—"
"Something that needed to happen a long time ago," Aurora seethed, tossing her hair as she hauled her trunk out from under her bed. "And now, I'm leaving."
"Leaving? What — for the summer?"
"If I get my way, now, yes." She couldn't stand to be here for one more moment, not now. "I have to see my dad, and there's nothing here for me, and if Pansy Parkinson so much as breathes in my direction, I cannot be held responsible for my actions."
"I can't believe Pansy—"
"I can," she muttered, cutting him off. "I can believe it of any of them. She's been telling me all year, how good a friend she wants to be, how much she cares and wants to make amends and I — I should've known it was too good to be true. She'd choose her family, time and time again. Over the right thing, over her own morals. Over me." Her voice trembled at the words, and she curled into herself as she yanked her drawers open, tossing piles of clothing into her trunk. "Merlin, I'm so stupid! Hoping things would get better, that I mattered enough to be…" She shook her head, turning away, but even as tears threatened her, Theo knelt down at her side and cupped her cheek, ever so gentle. "I can't do this," she whispered, but couldn't find the will to pull away. "I can't — Theo, your father and grandfather…"
"They're in Azkaban."
"They'll get out. Your grandfather warned me already, before, he doesn't want me around you, and I don't know if he knows, but you coming there, to the Ministry, for me — it was dangerous, it was too dangerous, and I — I can't do it. I can't be us anymore."
"Aurora, we knew this was dangerous getting into it—"
"And we were stupid and we didn't care about knowing that enough, and I should've said no!" The words were out and she could not bite them back. "I could've died, you could've died, I've made myself an even bigger target, you're endangering yourself even being associated with me, I — it isn't right! It can't go on!"
"I didn't think they'd really try and…"
"What?" Aurora asked in a shrill voice, piling clothes and books and anything she could get her hands on into her trunk. "Kill me? Well, I think he's only third in line, so it's really not so bad, if you think about it that way! Fuck!" She slammed the drawer shut and opened the next one, shoving clothes in without caring about them coming unfolded and messy in the trunk. "I should have known this would happen. I've been an idiot, we both have, to think we could — could be safe, keep this secret."
"What, and keep me in the dark? Again? Lie to me when you mysteriously turned up in the Hospital Wing for the third year in a row?"
"I shouldn't have let you come, it was stupid, you — I can't let you fight for me, Theo!"
"I don't need you to let me," he said fiercely. "And I'm not just fighting for you, Aurora! Do you think that if it weren't for you, and us being together, I would be okay with my grandfather and my father's actions?"
"I don't know! We'll never know and that's not the point, the point is that I'm basically a halfblood and you being with me, fighting on my side, will be taken as an act of blood treachery!"
"I don't care! I don't want people thinking I agree with my family!"
"That's not the point!" she snapped.
"Then what is the point, because I really fail to understand—"
"Because everyone will see that as my fault! They'll see me as this corrupting influence, your grandfather already has, they'll say, there's the halfblood we couldn't kill, look how she's made the good pureblood boy fall! They'll think, that impure slut's—"
"—Don't say—"
"—the reason the Carrows aren't getting their betrothal, they'll think I've led you astray, that it's just another reason people like me shouldn't have power or titles or connections, that I'm less than them! And I know that, I've known that for years, and I — I shouldn't have forgotten! I'm not an exception, and I won't be any longer! I'm just so fucking stupid!"
Hardly able to see through her tears, she slammed the drawer shut on her fingers and leapt, letting out a shriek. Theo was beside her in an instant, trying to comfort her, hold her, and all she wanted was for him to go, to leave her alone.
"Is there anything I can—"
"No, Theodore, there's nothing you can do. I can't ask you to do anything for me, not anymore."
"What do you mean? Aurora, listen, I care about you—"
"You shouldn't!" she shouted. "And I don't want you to! I don't care if you think that you'd choose me, over anyone, I don't care if you want to appease me with your stupid romantic sentiments, because that's not going to help me when I'm dead! I won't ask you to choose between me and your family, I refuse to be that person, and I — I don't want you to choose, because you can't protect me from everything, Theodore! If anything, you thinking like this, thinking you can make me a priority, stand up to your family for me, that puts me in more danger, and the more you say it the more dangerous it is!"
"You think it isn't dangerous for me, too?" he shot back, staring at her. "You think I've nothing to lose here?"
"I don't want you to lose anything, Theodore! I won't do that to you!"
"I'm doing it to myself!"
"Well, don't! You have a family, Theodore, and they need you and they love you and I won't endanger you or them or myself any longer! Pansy claimed to be my friend and maybe she truly thinks she is, but she had to protect her family, she had to make a choice and that choice hurt me and I — I won't have someone else in my life who will have to make that sort of choice. I can't do that, Theo, to you or to myself!"
"I'd run away with you," he whispered, eyes pleading and shining, "I told you, I'd do anything for you…"
"Well, don't," she whispered back, tears spilling over onto her cheeks. "You won't run away with me, Theodore, because I won't let you. Because sooner or later, they'd catch up with us, no matter how far in hiding we are, they'd hate us enough to do it. And they'd come for me first, like they came for my mother, like they killed her and fucking delighted in it, and killed her whole family too! And I won't be my mother, Theodore, I refuse! I'm not foolish and I don't — I don't want to be brave." Her voice wobbled as she sank down, leaning back against the side of the bed, a sob cracking through her. "I want to go home and I want to struggle through this war and hope that my side wins and I want myself and my family to live, and I can't do that with you!"
"Aurora, I love—"
"Don't you dare!" she said sharply, turning and hauling her last drawer open. "Don't you dare tell me that, Theo."
"It's the truth," he told her, eyes tearful but filled with a fire she rarely saw. "I want to say it because you deserve to know it. And I don't need you to say it back, but if this is the end of this, I need you to know. If you have to go, if you can't do this, if it's your choice to walk away from us, I respect that. But I love you, Aurora, and I don't want to lose you! I suppose I always knew it was a possibility, and just like you won't ask me to put you over my family, I won't ask the same of you, either. But maybe consider that you can trust me, that I'm not the one who has broken your trust, and I know you're a bit messed up right now, because your trust in Pansy has been shattered and you don't know what to do with yourself, but, Merlin, Aurora, this isn't all about you! I don't know who I'd be if I didn't know you, but I hope I'd be a better person than my family wanted me to be! I'm not just running to you, I want out of the life they have planned for me and I always have!"
"Then do that! Do whatever you want and leave them and don't tell them a word about me and don't bring me into that and don't get me killed!"
"Hey, that's not fair, you know I didn't know—"
"Well, you should have!"
"So should you by those standards! If this was a mistake, yes, maybe it is, maybe it is dangerous, but we both made a choice, Aurora!"
She didn't know what to say to that, just let out a low, broken sob and flung her winter cloak into her trunk, before pushing it across the beneath of her bed to fly out the other side. She stood up on shaky legs and stormed round the corner, opening these drawers with more care but violently trembling hands.
"I take my choice back."
"Alright."
"No, don't say alright like that, Theodore!"
"Well, what the hell do you want me to say? Do you want me to say anything or do you want me to just sit here silently while you make every decision and break your own heart and refuse to let anybody help you? You want to break up, I understand! If I don't, then you'd still be yelling at me for that, wouldn't you?"
"I can't do this," she whispered, determinedly not looking at him as she placed her necklaces and rings and books in her trunk, in an attempt to distract from everything running through her head. "I can't — it was always stupid."
"Aurora, I know you're upset right now. This doesn't have to be the end of this."
"Just because I'm upset doesn't mean that I don't know what I want." She was managing to talk slower now, calmer. She went to her locked desk drawer and took out all of her notes and copies of Umbridge's correspondence, the report she had been drafting, her investigation into Lucius Malfoy. She had her little book with every piece of gossip she had ever curated about the secrets and scandals of the purebloods she surrounded herself with, the book she refused to use as a journal.
"I know," Theo said softly, following her, "I just — let's talk about this."
"When, Theo? My dad could be dying, and I'm going to be rather busy dealing with that."
"I know that, I'm not saying we have to talk now, just — don't close this door on us!"
"I have to." She refused to let the sob in her chest get any further. "I have to, Theo. And I really wish I didn't, I really wish that — that we were just two ordinary people, and I could just be happy and safe and secure in love, but I've never been given that privilege, and the world isn't about to start being kind to me now. So this has to be goodbye."
She swept back across her room, snatching her pyjamas from beneath her pillow and putting the trunk down again to stuff them inside, on top of her papers and books. "I wish that, too," he said, coming to her side, placing a hand on her shoulder. This time, she did not want to brush him off; she just wanted to curl into him, wanted his arms wrapped around her all the way to the hospital, wanted him to hold her hand the whole time she felt everything she needed to. But they would never be allowed that.
So she could only allow him to hold her for this short while, standing there in disarray. "I can't allow us both to be naive anymore," she told him in a whisper. "Thinking that we can let this all wash over us. It won't. And I won't let you convince me otherwise, Theo."
"I know this won't wash over us, Aurora. I know that this isn't easy. But I know the decisions I am prepared to make. And, if it helps, if it matters at all, it's not all just because of you, or because I want to be with you. I genuinely don't agree with my father and grandfather's ideology, and I genuinely want to fight. I know what side I'm on, and it's not just because it's yours. But..." His fingers played with the ends of her hair and she wrapped her arms tighter around his chest. "If this is what you want, I — I can't exactly stop it. I just ask that you don't — don't say this is the end. Not right now. Not when you're scared and hurting."
"It can't be the end," she said, and he took in a breath, "we have to act like this never happened at all, Theo."
"I can't—"
"It'll be easier than you think," she told him, and stepped away with tears in her eyes, feeling cold and empty. "I promise. I'll make it easy. It'll be far easier like this anyway. You'll have nothing to hide and I — I'm good at pretending."
"It'll never be easy," he told her, even as he stepped away, shaking his head. "I don't like pretending, Aurora."
"Well, you're going to have to. I — I don't know what I'm going to have to do this summer." She could feel the hot, treacherous tears burning at the back of her eyes. "I'll try not to let it affect you. I — I'm sorry."
She couldn't even tell him what she was sorry for. There was too much of it. She was sorry for the world and for herself and her inability to think straight and handle this like she wanted to, she was sorry she had ever been stupid enough to let any of this happen, she was sorry she had ever walked into his life and made it difficult like she had. She was sorry for everything. She just wanted it all to go away.
"Don't do this," Theo said, walking back towards the door even as he did so. "Don't make this decision now."
"I have to. It has to end now, soon as we can."
She snapped her trunk shut and picked it up, clicking her fingers for Stella to follow her. Hauling the trunk behind her made her shoulder ache, but she refused Theo when he offered to take it for me.
"You're not my boyfriend," she told him sharply, "you shouldn't do these things."
He blinked, arm stuck halfway to opening the door for her. Then he frowned. "I haven't seen you like this in a very long time, you know," he told her, and her heart thudded in her chest. "I thought you'd gotten past this."
"Well, like I said. You're very naive." She brushed past him, eyes and cheeks burning, and she tried to ignore the way that the hurt sparking in his eyes made her want to cry and beg for forgiveness.
"This isn't you," he told her, closing the door behind them. "This isn't us."
"It has to be," she retorted, swallowing tightly. "I don't care for sentimentality, Theodore."
"You do," he said softly, "you're just pretending. Like you said." He reached out as if to stroke her hair, then stopped, thinking better of it. "But, fine. You know how I feel. I won't apologise for that. But if this is what you really want..."
He stepped away and Aurora felt the emptiness of the air stretching between them, her stomach twisting. "Theo," she said, reaching out to take his hand before he could leave, before she could feel this break.
His eyes shone when he turned to her. "I'll miss you," she whispered. "I just — I'll never be able to tell anyone that. So I wanted you to know now."
A muscle ticked in his jaw, and he softened, squeezed her hand, drew her back in. She let him. The corridor was deserted. She needed just to feel him again, one last time.
"I'll miss you, too," he whispered with his lips to her brow. "I — I hope you know, I'd never do anything to hurt you."
"I know you believe that," Aurora told him, eyes burning, "but I can't believe it of anyone anymore."
She tore herself away from him and fled, heart pounding. She didn't look back, and didn't stop until she reached Dumbledore's office, knocking quickly before he let her in.
McGonagall and Snape were already there, along with Molly Weasley, heads bent in conversation. All four of them looked up sharply at her entrance, and Aurora managed to catch her breath for only a moment before saying, "I want to go home. I — I need to be able to see my father, you said that I could—"
"Of course, Miss Black," Dumbledore said softly, glancing up. "Would you like to use my Floo? I assume your trunk is all packed."
"Yes," she said, feeling like she had rather hastily pulled everything together. She didn't want to look at Snape or Molly, but when she caught McGonagall's gaze it was surprisingly soft. "Yes — and I'm sorry, sir, to burst in like this. I thought you should know that Pansy Parkinson is actively feeding information to Voldemort's followers from inside your school. She played a pivotal role in the Ministry attack." McGonagall let out a sorry little gasp. Aurora swallowed tightly. "I think it'd be for the best if I go back to the Tonkses', now."
"Thank you," Dumbledore told her, inclining his head, and standing to go and unlock the Floo. She followed, relieved. "Will you be returning this term, Lady Black?"
"Do I have to?" He shook his head. "Then, no. Thank you, Professor. I'll see you soon."
She called out for Tonks Cottage and stepped into the flames, and let herself be swept away in a whirl of soot, tears finally falling from her eyes.
