She turned her father's old pictures over on the bedside table and read the names off the back. Perhaps she'd hoped one of them might leap out at her or the ink would light up emerald and cause her to have a stunning revelation.
But none did. Because it would be completely ridiculous. And Aurora knew it was ridiculous anyway, to be so obsessed with looking for her mother's name. She could be anyone. All she knew was that she had been a Muggleborn, her father had allegedly been in love with her, the family hated her... And she was murdered by the man who'd torn apart his own family for her.
It was fruitless and she knew that. She shouldn't care. She just didn't understand and she hated not understanding. No one else had understood it. She had been just old enough to remember her grandmother saying she didn't know what had driven her useless eldest son to the murder of his own wife, that he was in far too deep with Muggle lovers and blood traitors to do it, and if he had really decided to redeem himself he would have come back to the family triumphant to become the heir he was meant to be, not vanished into obscurity with what was now the Black family's last hope at a decent child to carry their name.
Aurora sighed at the memories. She wondered what her grandmother would say now. She would probably tell her not to bother her head about her wastrel father, and she would be right. She would also tell Aurora to stop asking questions and that she didn't need to know about her mother, because none of them cared.
Arcturus would have told her to find out what she could, she thought, knowing she would never be satisfied with anything she learned. And when she had come back to him, upset because of what she had or hadn't discovered, he would have told her not to cry and gotten a house elf to bring her hot chocolate and cake.
She swallowed thickly, and folded the pictures away again, slipping them into the very depths of her bag. Breakfast was soon and she needed to prepare herself. She opened her bedside drawer and slipped two of her snake necklaces around her neck for protection, as she had taken to doing any time she left her bedroom, and she gathered her books and quill and parchment into her bag, ready to go. The two pendants with Cygnus and Julius hissed as she made her way out of the dormitory, and only stilled when she met Draco and Blaise at the door of the common room. She rarely walked to breakfast alone anymore.
There was a space for them at the Slytherin Table between Pansy and Millicent, who was arguing with Gregory about something. When they sat down, Aurora couldn't help but notice each set of eyes in the hall that had turned to look at her. It felt like more and more every day, even if she knew she was likely being paranoid about it. Potter was always glaring at her, which wasn't exactly unusual, only more noticeable, and definitely disconcerting.
Clenching her jaw, she did her best to ignore them all, choosing instead to think about their first class of the day, which was Potions. The class wasn't great by any means, but the content of her recent essay was at least somewhat fun to turn over in her head until it was time to go.
Potions was becoming a drag, recently, more so than usual. Perhaps it was the heat of the room, or Professor Snape's ever-present glare, or Neville's increasing reliance on her to fix his problems. Or maybe she was just in a generally terrible mood.
The class seemed to go on forever, especially since they were going to be graded on their combined work with their partner, a decision Aurora was sure Snape had made just to spite her. As a result, she was more anxious about her work than she would ever normally be, and by extension, Neville was all over the place, sensing both Snape's usual hatred and Aurora's heightened frustration.
"Don't add the porcupine quills," she told Neville sharply partway through, slapping his hand away from his cauldron. "You'll ruin the whole thing."
He gaped, staring between her and the cauldron with confused eyes. "But I thought-"
"You haven't taken it off the heat for a start, and they go in after the fluxweed." She sighed and wrestled control of the cauldron from him. Today they were going to be marked on their performance in pairs and she knew Neville was going to drag them both down if he didn't manage to screw his head on straight soon. "Look, I'll do it. You crush the beetles."
His lip wobbled and he looked away. "You're being mean today."
"Oh, dear." She couldn't keep the sarcasm out of her voice. "I am so sorry."
"You don't have to be like this."
"I just don't want us to fail, Neville. Beetles."
Sullenly, he went to crush the beetles. He eyed his results almost mournfully. "You're mean to the others," he said quietly.
"Sorry?" Aurora asked, stirring in fluxweed.
"Harry... Hermione... Ron... Everyone, really. You're only really nice to me and your Slytherin friends."
She huffed. "And? Do you want me to not be nice to you."
"Well... No. I just don't really understand why you can't just be nice to everyone."
"And is everyone nice to me?" she asked breezily, though her blood was beginning to boil. She urged herself to stay calm, concentrating on the soothing simmering of her cauldron.
"Well... They're not... Not nice..."
"Not in front of you, perhaps. But, Neville, it really isn't your business."
"But it is my business! You're my friend and so are they!"
"Are they? I don't see any of them helping you pass Potions. Crush that beetle more, you need to get more juice out."
"You're doing it again."
"Neville, I am just tired. I'm trying to scrape us a pass here." She had to close her eyes for a minute to calm herself down. When she opened them, she glanced across the classroom to where Draco and Pansy were cheerfully stirring their cauldron, and then caught Theodore's eye. He merely raised his eyebrows, but she knew what he meant. Why was she even still bothering with this?
"I just want you to get along..."
"We're not going to get along, Neville. I don't know where you get your ideas from but I've no intentions of trying to be chummy with Gryffindors just because you want me to. I'm doing you a favour so you can help me out in Herbology and nothing more."
"But..." He seemed to have given up on the beetles entirely. Aurora, pulse racing in frustration, snatched them and the knife from him and crushed one under the blade. It was somewhat concerning how satisfying it felt. "I thought... You're my friend."
"Oh, piss off, I don't have the time for this."
"Language, Black," said Snape's silky voice. She jumped; he was right behind them. "Detention tonight."
She winced. "Sir," Draco called, "we have Quidditch practice tonight."
Snape pursed his lips. "Very well. Tomorrow night, Black, three hours instead of two."
Grudgingly, she said, "Thank you, sir."
"And that will be five points from Gryffindor, too."
"What?" Potter shouted at the same time as Weasley. "But that's ridiculous! Black isn't even a Gryffindor!"
"Five points from Longbottom," Snape said, "for continuous pestering conversation in class." Aurora stared at him. He was actually doing something helpful to her. "And another five from you both, Potter, Weasley, for disrupting class."
Across the room, Draco snickered and Aurora made a vindictive smile before she noticed the look on Neville's face.
"That wasn't fair," he muttered once Snape had moved away. "Harry—"
"Spoke out of turn and is an all around prat. Are you going to let me get on with this or not?"
He kept tight lipped for the rest of the lesson but Aurora felt worse by the end. She didn't want to get Neville in trouble, especially not from Snape, but it did feel great to have Potter - and Gryffindor - lose out. Neville rushed from the room as soon as he could, followed by an urgent-looking Hermione Granger who threw a scathing look over her shoulder at Aurora, who merely sneered in return.
"Think you're all that, do you?" Weasley snapped at her as she walked past.
She didn't give him the time of day, breezing past without a word in order to catch up to Draco and Pansy. But her heart was pounding still. She didn't have time or the energy to deal with these idiots today but that didn't mean they didn't get right under her skin.
"What d'you get out of it?" Potter asked her. "Making people miserable."
"Do stop talking, Potter."
"You think you can pick on Neville and get us in trouble for it just because you're a Slytherin?"
"I think you get yourself into trouble perfectly well, Potter. As for Neville, I'm helping him."
"That didn't look like helping."
She bit her tongue, not knowing what to say to that. If Neville had a bit of a thicker skin... But he didn't. And it was frustrating, but she didn't want to upset him anyway. "Why don't you worry about yourself instead, Potter, hm?"
His face paled and she was momentarily satisfied before she found another Weasley blocking her vision. "Miss Black," said the Head Boy, "I'm afraid we do not tolerate threats."
Her mouth fell open. "I'm sorry, what?"
"Ten points from Slytherin."
"My apologies..." She struggled to remember his name. Peter, perhaps? "Weasley. I think there's been a misunderstanding. I was referring to Quidditch." He raised his eyebrows. He didn't believe her and why would he? She was a Slytherin and her father was an escaped murderer. Naturally, she was threatening Potter with death. If she was going to do that, she thought bitterly, she would have at least been a little more intimidating, and not done it in front of dozens of other students. "Do you mind? I believe lunch is meant to be rather good today."
Without another word - but with a glare at both Potter and Ron Weasley - she flounced away. Footsteps followed her down the hall but it was only Theodore, and gradually she calmed herself down enough to let him speak.
"Are you alright?"
"No. I'm rather hungry, actually."
He rolled his eyes and smiled almost fondly. It was aggravating. "You know, it's not your fault Longbottom's a wet blanket, or that Potter and Weasley are the world's stupidest baboons in Gryffindor robes." She laughed despite herself, feeling anger dissipate just slightly.
"I know. They just get under my skin. Everyone-" She rethought. "No, most people do."
"I get that. If anyone interrupts my reading I just want to hit them with the heaviest book I can hold." Aurora laughed and paused in her step, leaning against a wall. "Why do you bother with Longbottom anyway?" Theodore asked. "It's not like he's much fun to be around. And that's coming from me." He shook his head. "I don't get it. There are far better people you could keep company with in Potions. Any Slytherins, for a start."
"I know," Aurora told him with a sigh. "I really do. But I suppose... I feel guilty."
Theodore looked her up and down assessingly. "Well, that's rather stupid."
"Maybe. It's just... His parents and my family. I mean, not really my family, I didn't know them... But still... I don't know. I felt bad for him. And it's not like he has any other friends."
"Not surprising. But you don't feel guilty about Potter. You don't seem to feel bad for him."
"I did. Originally, when I first met him and realised who he was. But he's an arsehole."
"So's Longbottom."
She cracked a smile. "Yes but he's... Potter's an in your face sort of arsehole. Neville's more... Sad."
"Is sad really the main feature you look for in a friend?"
"No. It's bloody annoying half the time, especially now. But I can't afford to have any more people hate me this year. And I don't want Neville to hate me."
"The Gryffindors are going to hate you regardless."
"Shut up."
"They are, though."
"Theodore, stop. I don't want to think about all this." She turned on her heel, making her way towards the common room. "I just wish it would go away."
"That's fair, I suppose. But you know you don't have to feel guilty about any of it."
"I know."
"It's not your fault, anything your father or your cousin or your uncle did."
"I know. And the thing is that I love my family, the family that I know. Not Sirius or Bellatrix or Regulus. But I know everyone hates me, hates all of us, for them." She shook her head, staring pointedly ahead. "And I hate it."
-*
While Arithmancy quickly became Aurora's favourite class, she soon decided that Professor Lupin was one of her favourite teachers. He was actually fun, unlike most of them, while also being competent, unlike Professor Hagrid, who had been so spooked by his failure in the first lesson that he now only taught them about flobberworms, creatures so boring Aurora wasn't even sure they could be counted as magical.
After Boggarts they studied Red Caps - which Robin and Gwen tried unsuccessfully to find in the disused dungeons - and Grindylows, which Pansy and Daphne both swore they'd seen floating past the window in the Slytherin common room. Aurora kept an eye out, but Millicent said they were probably shy now, since Pansy had scared it off. Nothing that Professor Lupin has said indicated they might be shy creatures, though, so Aurora wasn't sure.
With Draco's arm still hurt, Aurora got called in for a couple of Seeker practices. Though she did feel bad for her friend, there were few things better than the thrill of soaring through the air with the wind on her face and in her hair. Their opening match against Gryffindor was approaching fast, and Flint told her that if Draco couldn't play, he was considering playing her instead. She did try to hide her excitement, but there was still nothing she wanted more than to play for her team - and to thrash Harry Potter in the process.
By the end of the month, while Aurora felt somewhat like she was flailing, she had one thing to look forward to: her fourteenth birthday. It was one bright spot in what was looking like a very bleak year, and so a few nights before - having conferred with Gwendolyn - she took to writing some very unnecessarily extravagant invitations on elegant, pale green writing paper addressed to Draco, Pansy, Daphne, Millicent, Blaise, Theodore, Gregory, Vincent, and Lucille.
You are cordially invited, she had written in her best and most elaborate calligraphy, with deep silver ink, to Aurora Black's fourteenth birthday party this Monday evening, the twenty-seventh of September, at a quarter to midnight, in the girl's' rooms.
Yours, Aurora Black
She handed them all out early in the morning. Gwendolyn, who had been considerably quieter recently, had insisted upon Robin joining them, seeing as Aurora couldn't very well not invite Gwen to join a party in her own room, and so Aurora invited him informally at the end of Care of Magical Creatures.
She was excited, but the Monday morning of her birthday, at breakfast, among the flurry of conversation and receiving presents and cards from her friends, an owl came soaring through the hall towards her. This wasn't unexpected, since Dora had told her to keep an eye out for the Tonks' present, which was distinctively wrapped in sparkly silver paper, but it was the owl which followed that surprised Aurora.
Curiously, she deliberated in which to open first. First Dora, Andromeda, and Ted, there was a bound collection of historical stories about the Hogwarts' founders, along with a copy of the Chronicles of Merlin, a pair of emerald Quidditch gloves and - from Andromeda - a new pair of ballet shoes, with the suggestion that she ought to get practicing again. They were wonderful gifts, but she was all too aware of the other small box sitting beside it, which had just been deposited by a strange, harried looking owl. Everyone was staring at it like it was a bomb about to go off. Aurora didn't want to touch it.
She wrapped up the last of her gifts from her friends - mainly an assortment of chocolate, sweets, and books - into her bag and stood up shakily. "I, er..." She paused, still staring at the box. "I need to get my Potions textbook."
"I'll come with you," Draco said immediately, taking the box along with the package from the Tonks'. "We'll see you all in Arithmancy."
They hurried out the hall together, Aurora feeling rather faint. "I can't look at it," she said in a rush.
"You think it's from... Him?"
"I don't know. I just have a very bad feeling."
Draco eyed the box suspiciously. "Yeah, me too."
The common room was mostly deserted when they returned, since most of the students were at breakfast. The two of them slipped to the corner of the room, and Aurora sank into a chair. Her hands trembled slightly as she took the box from Draco. Her stomach swam.
"It sounds like there's something in it," he said, like he was trying to be helpful.
"Yes, I got that," Aurora said faintly.
"Do you want to open it?"
"No." She shook her head, staring at the brown-wrapped box. "Not really."
Draco pursed his lips. For quite some time, neither of them did anything. Then, wanting to get it over with and be able to throw the box out as soon as she could, Aurora tore the paper off to reveal a small black wooden box. It was cold to the touch, and brought a lump to her throat.
"What's in it?"
"Draco, I don't know, if haven't opened it."
He scowled and drew out his wand to point it at the box. "If it's something dangerous, I'll blow it up."
"Not while I'm holding it, I hope."
"No. You can throw it on the floor. No one'll notice if the rug gets singed, it's ugly anyway."
Aurora smiled faintly. "I'm going to open it," she whispered. "I have to know what's in it. Otherwise it could be cursed to strangle me in my sleep."
Before she could talk herself out of it, she propped up the lid of the box to reveal a very delicate silver chain necklace with a small crescent moon pendant. It was placed on top of a folded piece of parchment, and when Aurora, feeling like she was going to be sick, unfolded it, she had to hold onto Draco's arm for support.
This belonged to your mother.
That was all, but it was enough to make Aurora feel faint. He was taunting her, she thought immediately, and snapped the box shut violently. "It's a threat," she said, standing up. "It's a threat. He killed my mother, he's saying - he's going to kill me."
"He won't," Draco said, but he didn't look like he believed himself. "He can't."
Aurora almost threw the box into the fire, but stopped herself. She dug her gloves out of her bag and gingerly picked up the necklace.
"You should tell Professor Snape," Draco told her. "If you think it's dangerous."
"Of course it's dangerous," she snapped. "He sent it to me! But Snape won't help! He hates me!"
"Well... Yes." He frowned. "But he's still a teacher."
"Do you think I should tell Dumbledore?"
Draco scoffed. "Dumbledore? What's he going to do?"
"I don't know... He probably knows how to deal with these things. And he can tell the Ministry, too, he's working with Fudge." She stared at the necklace. "Do you think it really was my mother's?"
"Dunno." Draco shrugged. "I doubt he would have kept it all these years, would he?" He sighed. "He's just trying to scare you."
She nodded, staring at the flickering of the fire. "I know. I know." She shook her head, feeling a burning in her chest. "What do I do with it?"
The bell rang and they ignored it. "I don't know," Draco admitted. "Don't keep it near you. Get rid of it."
"Yes." She didn't move. She kept staring at the necklace. If it was her mother's, why had her father kept it? He was even sicker and messed up than she'd thought - if that were possible - keeping the possessions of his victim as souvenirs to one day taunt their daughter with. "I'll get rid of it."
Draco squeezed her shoulder gently. "He's not going to hurt you. I won't let him."
She laughed humourlessly. "He's not going to stop for your sake, Draco. You're really not the most intimidating wizard in the world."
"I can cast a decent Stupefy."
"Sure you can." Aurora sniffed and dropped the necklace back into its box, which she snapped shut. "I need to take this to Professor Dumbledore, don't I?" Draco pulled a face. "Or Professor Lupin... No."
She shook her head. "I can't tell him."
"Why not?"
"I just can't."
Draco frowned. "Well, you shouldn't touch it."
"No." She shook her head. "Definitely not."
They both stared at the necklace box, in some silent stalemate. Aurora said, "It's going in the trunk until I can decide what to do with it. There are protective enchantments on that thing." She had to be practical about these things, she thought. She ought to keep it, somewhere, until she understood what her father was trying to achieve. And who knew - it might even lead her to him. And with this taunt, this insult, there was an even deeper part of her that wanted to find him and wring his neck for all that he had done to her family.
It took only a minute for her to wrap the box carefully and bury it in the depths of her trunk, before slamming the lid shut. Draco was waiting outside and it was with great relief that she took her cousin's arm. He was some comfort, at least.
"Just try to focus on your birthday," was his advice as hey headed to their first class of the day. "This is what he wants. For you to be upset."
"I'm not upset," she said shortly.
Draco raised his eyebrows. "You could've fooled me."