Draco didn't wait for her in the common room like he usually did. Aurora lingered by herself, watching everybody else go past, until she realised he wasn't coming. When she got to the Great Hall, having walked there alone, he was already seated with the others, and there was no seat saved for her.

She didn't like the way they all spoke as if she wasn't there. It was as if no one noticed her absence. She didn't want to sit down, because she was certain that her face would betray her feelings. Her gaze drifted to the Gryffindor Table, spying Potter and Granger and Weasley, all deep in conversation. They were probably talking about her.

With that bitter thought, she steeled herself. She smoothed her hair, tilted her chin, looked down her nose ever so slightly, and stalked over to her table.

"Good morning," she said, with a false smile. Blaise stared up at her, though both Pansy and Draco remained pointedly engaged in their own conversation about the latest Weird Sisters album. "How are we all today?"

After a moment of intense and pointed staring, Vincent got the point and shifted away from Millicent so that Aurora could slip in between them. No one answered her question, and she pursed her lips as she reached for some toast. "I'll take that as, not brilliantly?"

Lucille scoffed loudly. "That would be an understatement, I think."

The silence was painful. Aurora bit into her toast and watched as everyone tried to manoeuvre around the awkwardness. It seemed everyone was unhappy with her today, but she didn't want to apologise for anything now, in the Great Hall, in front of everyone. She was sorry, but she didn't want to have to address it.

They did eventually return to conversation, but no one went to any particular effort to include Aurora except Millicent, who rambled about the Wimbourne Wasps' new Keeper and generally didn't ask for Aurora's input. It was better than complete silent treatment, though.

When they got to Potions, she was in a bitter mood, made worse by Weasley sneering that all her friends had finally gotten rid of her, and Neville wringing his hands because he thought a fight was going to break out every five seconds. Her attempt at the day's work was ghastly and Neville's even worse, resulting in both of them earning detentions to scrub out cauldrons the next again evening.

"Aurora," he asked tentatively at the end of class, as everyone was filing out, "is everything alright?"

"What do you think?" she snapped, and made to storm away. Potter got in her path at the back of the room. "Oh, what do you want?"

He glared at her. "Wood's appealing the Quidditch result. Just so you know."

"Oh, dear." She tried not to laugh, afraid it might turn into a scream of frustration. She did not have the patience for Potter today. "Whatever will I do with all the evidence on my side?"

"You know it wasn't a fair result, Black. Admit it."

"Are you just saying this because it's me, and I'm a Slytherin, or do you actually believe that this wasn't fair? I outflew you and I outlasted you, And might I remind you, since you seem so intent on ignorance, that I prevented you from breaking your neck. The least you can do is show a little gratitude, though I suppose I can't expect so much of you."

"I would have won if those Dementors weren't there," he said, but it had lost some of its venom.

"Not necessarily."

"We were that high up, no one even knows if you did catch the Snitch."

"They have flesh memories, Potter, please at least do your research before you bother me with these things."

He pursed his lips and Aurora raised her eyebrows in question. "Look, I know you did, sort of... Stop me falling... As badly..."

"I saved your neck, Potter."

"Well, you didn't — I still could've won. So thanks, but no thanks."

She stared at him. "Are you joking, Potter? You're really this petty?"

Weasley muttered, "Look who's talking," and Aurora shot him a fierce glare.

Then, she straightened and met Potter's eyes, ware of Finnigan and Thomas gathered near her too. "If that's all Potter, and if you don't have any more gratitude to give, then I'm afraid I must be off. I have very little interest in entertaining you today."

"Doesn't look like you have much else to do." Aurora followed his gaze to the corner of the classroom where Draco and the rest of her friends usually sat, and saw that they had already left. Her stomach twisted. "What? Are your friends embarrassed that you fainted? That you're not as tough as you think?"

"More likely none of us can bear to be in the same room as you for longer than is strictly necessary." She smiled fakely, trying to pretend that she wasn't rattled. "Now, if you'll forgive me, Potter... I do have a class to get to."

She made to side-step him, but Weasley was suddenly in the way. To her right stood Seamus Finnigan and Dean Thomas, watching the conversation unfold, and on her left, Neville was being absolutely useless. She glanced over her shoulder to where Professor Snape was also watching, and doing nothing. But there was a strange sort of curiosity, if one could call it that. He was almost analysing, like he was waiting for something. Like he recognised something. Still, that unsettled her, too. She was surrounded by Gryffindors and suddenly something uncomfortable coiled in her gut. The hairs on the back of her neck prickled, as though in warning.

Her voice came out taut. "I would appreciate if you would get out of my way, Weasley."

"Or what, Black? What are you going to do if I don't?"

"Well, what are you going to do?" She tried to keep her cool but it was hard when faced with so many people who clearly meant her ill will. "You'll have to move out of my way at some point, and I'm sure there is another class due in here. It would make life easier for all of us if you would simply move, instead of standing there like a prat."

"Say that again," Potter said.

"You don't scare me, Potter," she drawled, but she caught a glimpse of his wand. They wouldn't dare do anything in front of Professor Snape but that didn't mean they didn't want to. "Wind your neck in. Before you break it. I sure as hell won't catch you."

"Oi," Finnigan started, eyes flashing, "leave off Harry. It's your fault those Dementors were there in the first place, isn't it?"

She felt sick to her stomach. There was no one else here to defend her, to give her some comfort. Neville was fucking quivering, for Merlin's sake. She looked at him expectantly — but he didn't even dare stick up for her and that angered her more than anything. Pathetic, she thought. Where was that supposed Gryffindor loyalty?

"You know," she told them, nearly trembling, "you may all think yourselves as having the moral high ground because you're Gryffindors and I'm a Slytherin, but here I see it's five to one. You're all cowards. Now, move, Weasley."

But they seemed to be enjoying not moving. Just standing there, waiting for her to react, to lash out. She could not give them the satisfaction. Her pride wouldn't let them see that they were bothering her, that this sudden and new isolation was making her head cloud.

"You've some nerve," Potter said. "At least my family weren't in with Voldemort."

The name gave her a start. No one said the Dark Lord's name. She felt like she'd been doused in cold water. Neville was shrinking back, all she could see was Potter and her rage that he would dare involve her family, and she was about to lunge forward into the closing darkness, seeing the look on his face that said he would do the same—

"Mr Potter." It was Snape's voice. "Weasley, Finnigan, Thomas." She could hear the disdain in his voice. "Longbottom. Five Gryffindors on one Slytherin, whatever will McGonagall say?"

"Sir," Weasley said immediately, "Black started it."

"I started nothing—"

"You must think me blind, Weasley," Snape drawled. "Each of you will have five points taken from Gryffindor."

"That's completely—"

"For disturbing the peace of my classroom." Aurora could hardly dare believe it. Why the fuck was Snape getting involved? His beady eyes were focused directly on Potter with utter loathing. "Now, move along. Your Head of House will be no more lenient than I. Black."

Aurora jumped to attention. He didn't meet her eyes, still glaring at Potter with a severe hatred she didn't understand the root of. "Yes, professor?"

"Stay behind. I must speak with you. Professor Binns will not note your lateness. You five. Get out of my sight."

And so the lions scurried like rats. Aurora was left breathless, but standing with Snape disconcerted her even more.

"Close the door," he told her, and she did so with unease coiled tight in her gut.

Then she turned to him, trying to remain a look of polite neutrality.

"Your performance in today's class was abysmal," he said, which was a lovely start.

"I am aware it wasn't my usual standard, Professor. I will do better."

He raised his eyebrows. "Will you? I am not so sure." She rapped her foot in annoyance. "Thought it pains me to admit, Black, you are not so dunderheaded as most of my students."

She bit out a sarcastic, "Thanks, Professor," in response.

"Your Potions partner, however." He pursed his lips. "Has now proven himself not only magically inept but, as you pointed out yourself, moments ago, a coward." She wished she could have said he was wrong, but he wasn't. Neville hadn't even tried to stick up for her. And he still called himself her friend. "I would advise that you change seats, Miss Black." She blinked in surprise. "I would hate to see your abilities squandered."

This was getting stranger and stranger. Snape was almost complimenting her, for Snape. "Right," she said forcedly. "Who would you have me sit by?"

"Preferably a member of your own house. Though I would advise against Crabbe or Goyle, or Oliphant for that matter."

"I see."

"Miss Black, I would also suggest you avoid Mr Potter."

"I always do my best, sir."

There was a strange glint in his eye, like he was almost amused — but not in a nice way.

"There are some in this school, Miss Black, who believe all members of Slytherin House to be alike. And who believe all who do not align with their own views are inferior." She swallowed tightly. "Boys like Mr Potter do not change, nor do their heads deflate. When it comes down to it, you see, they are cowards. They would save their own necks before anyone else's. I would not see a Slytherin brought down by the actions of a foolish Gryffindor."

At that, we let out a breathy, nervous laugh. "We've never really gotten along, Professor."

"I am aware." He rolled his eyes and stared up at the ceiling. "But children can be cruel, Miss Black, and life is rarely fair. Nor are some of my colleagues. I do not care for your antics or those of Mr Potter, or whatever inane Quidditch rivalry has built between you." She clenched her fist. He knew damn well this was not merely a Quidditch rivalry — it was just a handy disguise. "See to it that you and Mr Potter do not come to blows. Regardless," he added, with a tone of cold caution, "of who strikes first."

"Right. Of course, Professor. I won't. I am trying to stay out of his way."

His eyes glinted. "Try harder, Black."

She was still confused when she got to her History classroom, where Binns was already lecturing. No one had saved her a seat and so she had to slip into one next to Leah MacMillan, who didn't look pleased at all. Her mind reeled and reeled all lesson.

She sat by Gwendolyn and Robin at lunch, still trying to digest what happened and deal with the fact that Potter and Weasley were now both glaring at her worse than ever, as if she had asked them to act the way they did — or asked Snape to intervene. She could at least ignore them in Defense Against the Dark Arts, and be somewhat cheered up by the fact that Lupin had given her an O on her most recent essay, which she had spent many hours perfecting. Herbology was no more wretched than usual, but when the time came for her Care of Magical Creatures class, she was at a loss.

They were to work in groups of three to care for a flobberworm — the most pathetic creatures she had ever seen and at least ten steps down from hippogriffs — but Draco had already teamed up with Blaise and Pansy, and none of them seemed particularly welcoming when she looked in their direction. Not wanting to face the prospect of ending up alone, she latched onto Millicent the second she could see her.

"You're going to work with me," she said quickly, and Millicent blinked.

"I was going to... With Vince and Greg..."

"Lucille looks like she has that covered." Lucille was actually outright glaring at Aurora, and regarded Vincent and Gregory with an air of disdain, but Aurora forced a smile onto her face. "Come on, our flobberworm isn't going to feed himself, is he?"

"No..." Millicent said, frowning. "But you're being weird."

"Everyone's being weird, today, Millie." Millicent just stared at her. "Look, there's Theodore!"

The one person she did want to talk to. At the sound of his name, he turned around. He looked marginally less frosty than Pansy did and that was good enough for Aurora, who beckoned him over. "You'll make up our trio, won't you?" she asked politely.

He stared at her, then glanced behind him, towards a very agitated Lucille. "I'm not really sure..."

"I would like to apologise." It was probably best to get it over and done with, even if she could feel her cheeks flaming. She told herself it was so she could get a half decent Potions partner for next week. "For the way I responded to you yesterday evening. I understand you were only trying to be a friend, and I do appreciate it. I just don't want to discuss the things you wanted me to discuss and I hope that you can respect that."

Millicent's brow was creased deep in confusion, and Theodore's face was rather blank. "You're... Apologise?"

"Yes," she said, clippedly. "I am. I was unnecessarily rude to you and I apologise."

"Oh." Theodore blinked, and then laughed. "I wasn't expecting that." She looked at him expectantly, not enjoying the uncertainty that crawled over her. "But it's... Alright." He smiled but his face was still clouded by confusion. "Thanks. Shall we get to work then?"

When he and Millicent turned around, Aurora breathed a great sigh of relief. It was one less thing to worry about. Now she just had to find Draco and Pansy alone, which would be more difficult seeing as they both seemed intent on avoiding her. Still, she managed to catch Hagrid's eye, and he grinned at her, with a tentative thumbs up. Lips quirking, she mimicked the motion, for a fleeting second, and went over to fetch a flobberworm from him.

"Feeling better?" he asked in his gruff voice, and she nodded.

"Somewhat, yes. In some regards." She caught Weasley looking at her, and raised her eyebrows. "Not so much in others. But I'm sure flobberworms will take my mind off things."

Hagrid laughed weakly. "Sure they will. You get to yer group now, good lass."

Aurora allowed herself a faint smile as she returned to Theodore and Millicent. And she made sure it was especially bright when she flounced past Potter and Weasley, just to spite them. It felt good.

She didn't manage to get Draco or Pansy alone that evening to talk to them, but pretended that she was not bothered. And her mood was improved by the fact that at least Theodore was talking to her, and she could sit with him, Gwendolyn, and Robin at dinner.

Her best chance, she decided, was to try and talk to Draco at Quidditch practice on Saturday morning. Normally they would walk to breakfast and then the pitch together, but Draco was already in the Great Hall when she arrived, and he pointedly ignored her when she sat next to him and attempted to make conversation. He left not three minutes after she got there, leaving her frustrated.

Cassius sat down next to her in his place, Graham Montague on his other side.

"What's all this I hear about Potter and some appeal?" he asked casually, taking a boiled egg. "Flint's doing his nut. We thought we had better find out what's going on first."

"It's probably all talk," she admitted, rolling her eyes. "The decision's been made, and even if there is an investigation, I know he didn't touch the Snitch. The match is mine, he's just a sore loser."

"But he told you he's making an appeal to Hooch?"

"He told me that Oliver Wood is, but yes." She took a sip of tea. "I doubt it will get anywhere. Potter wants to make a point. He's ashamed and angry — largely because he hates me."

Montague snorted. "And they call us sneaks."

"Oh, I'm sure I was accused of summoning the Dementors myself at one point." She tried to sound casual about it, but she knew the insinuation had been deeper than that. It had undoubtedly been about her father.

"Potter hasn't been hassling you, has he?" Cassius asked, glancing to the Gryffindor Table, which was empty except for Hermione Granger and Percy Weasley.

"No more than usual," she told him, though it wasn't quite accurate.

"You need us to sort him out?" Montague asked, and it took her a second to realise he was being serious.

"Really?"

"You're our Seeker." He shrugged. "Slytherins look after their own, Black. Just say the word. We could take that scrawny git in a fight, and his mate Weasley."

She chuckled at the thought, knowing they probably could. "Thank you," she said, rolling her shoulders back. "But I can handle a couple of Gryffindors fine well on my own."

Montague laughed and, seemingly assured that he didn't have to fight any third years today, started shovelling down his breakfast. The three of them wound up walking to the pitch together and Aurora had to admit that having them all but offer to take on Potter and Weasley in her defense was rather nice, if unnecessary.

The sight of them seemed to sour Draco's mood, though. When Flint made them fly against each other, things got worse.

"You know," Aurora tried to shout over the wind, as they both did laps around the pitch, "I didn't mean to fight with you!" He went on pointedly as if he could not hear her. "Draco! I'm talking to you, don't ignore me!" Draco pushed ahead and she urged her broom to keep pace. "For Merlin's sake, what do you want me to say? That I'm not going to stay with family over Christmas just because you don't like it? That I'm going to change my opinion about my father because yours taught you a messed up way of looking at things."

Draco whipped around. "Don't talk about my father, Aurora."

"Then don't talk about mine!"

His cheeks were red from the cold but his eyes were bright as he snapped, "Why are you acting like this?"

"Like what, Draco?" she bit back.

"Like — I don't know!"

"Well, that's helpful!" She sped onwards, heart beating furiously.

"We all think you're being ridiculous."

"Who's we?"

"Me. Pansy, Lucille, Daphne, Blaise. Vince and Greg."

"Ah, so you do have a whole network talking about me behind my back. Is it a club now? Do you have badges?" He rolled his eyes and dropped into a deep dive. She followed. "What?"

"I don't know what's wrong with you, Aurora." She let out a shrill laugh. "You're meant to be my best friend."

"I am, you're just not acting like mine."

"Oh, that's rich! Who stole my place on the team?"

Her mouth fell agape. "I didn't steal it, I filled in for you because you were too busy being a wimp about your arm!" The words were harsh, she knew — but so were his. "I'm still alternate and you were fully on board with it before I won the game!" It struck her. "Is that it? You didn't think I'd win and now that I have you're jealous?"

"Don't be ridiculous, Aurora."

"Well, then what is it? What is your problem?"

"You!" he shouted, wheeling his broom around. "Acting all high and mighty all of a sudden. All righteous about the war! Reminding everyone how not like your father you are — how not like our fathers you are. I hate to break it to you, Aurora, but he's not the only one in your family who was on that side of the war. And you're not the only one who was affected by it!"

The truth sat uncomfortably in her stomach. She didn't even have anything to say to that, or anything she wanted to say — how could she even begin to address that? — and so she pointed her broom upwards and soared towards the clouds. Her eyes smarted — from the cold, she told herself, and the wind.

Flint didn't look happy when she and Draco touched down with the rest of team at the end of practice, but he didn't call either of them out. He just ordered Aurora back to the castle for a shower, like usual, and, laughing and chatting, all the boys went their own way to the changing rooms. She struggled not to punch something on her way out of the stands.

But waiting there, quite placid, was that same black dog she had kept seeing. She glared at it as she passed. Someone ought to deal with it, she thought venomously.

It barked after her but she didn't turn around. She just kept going, until the sound faded.

Aurora spent most of the day in her bedroom, or else in the common room. She had plenty of studying to do. Her grades had slipped in Charms and Transfiguration, and she needed to ensure these next essays were perfect if she wanted to beat Granger out for top spot. But her frustration didn't help matters at all, and it was almost — but not quite — a relief when she made it to detention at half past seven.

Snape did not acknowledge their brief conversation the day before, but sent her quietly to one side of the classroom, where, she noted, the cauldrons were not quite as dirty. When Neville's face appeared in the doorway it was white and he was nearly shaking. It was enough to make Aurora feel pity for his fear. She wanted to give him a reassuring smile, but halted. He had not even done so much as that to defend her before Weasley and Potter.

"You can get to work on that side," Snape told Neville, barely bothering to glance up from his desk, where he now appeared to be marking essays. "No talking and no magic. Once you are finished, you can leave."

Aurora nodded at this and Neville did too. Scrubbing cauldrons was a bit of a mean punishment and it wasn't something anyone enjoyed doing, but it still wasn't the worst. At any rate, Aurora felt it was preferable to being in the common room in suffocating silence as her friends all had their own conversations without her. Draco had barely looked at her during dinner.

There were at least a dozen to go through, and by the time she finished, her arms were aching. Quidditch practice tomorrow afternoon would be a nightmare if Flint made her do the Beater or Chaser drills, and knowing her luck right now, she thought he would likely choose the former. When she was done, Aurora glanced at Snape, who was still fixated on his work. She coughed politely, shifting, and looked to Neville, who was partway through his final cauldron.

"If you are finished, Miss Black, you may leave. See that your work improves."

"Thank you, Professor."

"Do not thank me, just get out of my classroom."

She grimaced and held back an insult. "Yes, Professor."

As she strode out of the classroom, Aurora caught Neville's frantic look for her not to leave him alone with him. Trying not to sigh, she shook her head, but motioned to the door. He was almost done and she had nothing to return to the common room for; she stayed just outside in the corridor for ten minutes before Neville emerged.

"He's terrifying," he said after the door closed behind them.

"Isn't he just?" She forced a smile. "Listen, Neville, we need to discuss some things." Perhaps she should have spoken to him long ago. The matter still would not be easy to address; but it was clear to her that, while in academia their partnership had once been mutually beneficial, it was no longer. That didn't make it any easier. She knew Neville was not of a particularly strong temperament.

He had the audacity to appear oblivious, though, and confused, and that made everything so much more difficult. Wincing, Aurora said, "Walk with me. I'll see you get to Gryffindor Tower in one piece."

"I don't even know the password," he muttered. "Sir Cadogan keeps changing it and I keep forgetting. Hermione Granger keeps having to let me in."

Aurora bristled. "Well, I'm sure we'll find our saviour Granger haunting the library somewhere."

Neville didn't seem to get her lack of humour, and tried to tease, "As if you're not in the library even more than she is. I've hardly seen you at meals, are you there all the time?"

She didn't want to respond, and had to bite back a less than kind reply. "Listen. Neville." They started up the narrow stone steps to the first floor. "I know you have a difficult time standing up to people. I get it. But I really don't appreciate you standing by as your housemates — sorry, your friends — gang up on me."

Neville went pale. "I really wanted to say something, Aurora, I did. It wasn't fair at all, but Ron and Harry, they're my friends, and I don't — don't really have many of those."

She tutted. "And am I not your friend also?"

"Well, yes of course you are! You've been brilliant! But I don't want to get on the wrong side of them."

That brought a sneer to her lips. "But you would have no qualms over getting on the wrong side of me, presumably?"

He stumbled over a step and stared at her. "Well — I wouldn't — you know I like you, Aurora. You're my friend."

"So you keep saying."

All of a sudden, Neville looked very small. "You don't understand. Everyone in Gryffindor thinks I'm stupid. None of them appreciate me. I just... Want to be friends. And none of them like you."

"And so you would throw me to the lions." She took in a shaky breath. "I see where we stand, Neville. I have tried to help you. I don't believe you stupid, but I do stand by what I said yesterday, to Potter and Weasley. They are cowards and you are too." He flinched. "I will no longer sit by you in Potions, nor will I assist you."

"But..." He floundered, And came to a stop. "Aurora, I need you! You know what I'm like, you know I'll fail if I'm on my own! You know Snape hates me!"

"I do," she said as softly as she could. She couldn't snap on him. If she did then he would go straight to Potter and Weasley and — possibly worst of all — Granger and Gryffindor house would only intensify its crusade against her. "Neville, sometimes you are your own worst enemy. As is your fear. You are capable in Potions, you have proven that because I have been there and given you that confidence. Yes, I have given you other help, but you are capable. I don't want you to rely on me — especially when it is apparent that I can no longer rely on you."

"But you're my friend!"

"I wasn't yesterday," she snapped. "I'm never your friend when I need you, only when it is the other way about!" He pursed his lips. "I am sorry, Neville. I don't want to be on bad terms with you, but I need to be on my own in Potions from now on. And I think you need it too."

"You always say you don't need anyone to defend you," he said, frowning as thought that meant she couldn't want someone to. "You said Ron and Harry don't bother you."

"They don't," she said, though it was becoming more and more of a lie. "You do."

He went paler like he'd been slapped in the face. "I'm sorry, Aurora! B-but I don't know how to stand up to people!"

"Didn't you get ten house points awarded for that in first year?" she asked coolly.

"But it's... Harry's my friend!"

"Well, you can sit with him in class, then."

"But he's... He's not as helpful as you."

"Helpful?" She whirled around, patience not dwindling so much as burning out of existence. "I'm merely helpful?"

"Well - you're my friend! I thought we help each other?" His eyes were wide and for a fleeting moment, Aurora's anger faded.

"Neville," she said softly, "I'm sorry."

He shook his head, stepping sharply away. "You know I'm no good at Potions."

"I've told you enough times," she snapped, "you can be good, you just have to stop being so bloody wet about it."

"Why are you being so mean?"

"Because you - I don't know!" She shook her head, cheeks and eyes burning. This was going further than she had wanted it to, and her words were getting harsher. She knew that, but she didn't know how to stop. Her anger had been building and building and now, she could feel it boiling over. But Theodore's words rang in her head. That she was being mean and rude and unfair. She tried to cool down. "Look, Neville. We both got what we wanted. But if you're not my friend then I'm not just going to help you without having at least a little bit of your loyalty."

"I - I am loyal! I am your friend but I just... I don't want to get into fights with other people."

"I'm not asking you to. I'm just asking you not to turn your back on me when it suits you. If you won't act like a friend, I have nothing to gain from helping you. And frankly, if you aren't grateful-"

"I am!"

"Then show it!"

"You know I'm not - not good at these things! Why'd you be nice to me all that time if you didn't - when I couldn't stick up for myself! I thought we were always friends!"

"Oh, Merlin, Neville, I felt sorry for you!" As soon as she said it, Neville went pale and she wish she could take it back. Those stupid words.

His face clouded. "Why - why'd you feel sorry for me?"

"You know why."

"I - I don't. Because of Malfoy?" Confusion creased his brow. Then, his eyes caught hers, properly, and it was like something dawned. Recognition, almost. He turned away. "Malfoy's horrible, Aurora."

"This isn't about Draco," she snapped, anger lashing through her.

"But he is! Don't you know how he treats other people?"

"I don't want to hear this."

"It's true! He's mean, Aurora!" He seemed to shrink back, eyes widening in realisation. "You know, you're mean sometimes, too."

She scoffed. "Everyone's a bit mean sometimes, Neville. Ron Weasley's a bit mean sometimes. Harry bloody Potter's a bit mean sometimes." Aurora shook her head. She felt like she was going to explode. Everything was all just becoming a bit too much. "Get away from me, Neville."

"Why are you being like this? Aurora, I don't—"

"I said, get away!" she yelled sharply, and he gave a rather pathetic whimper, hurrying to the other side of the corridor.

"I'm sorry—"

"Don't," she snapped, head pounding, already regretting her words and at the same time feeling her anger just get worse. "So. You can talk back to me but not to Weasley and Potter?" She scoffed. "Figures. Goodbye, Neville. I'm sure you'll find me when you need to apologise."

She swept away before he could answer, heart hammering. Maybe she had been too harsh, in the moment, in her fury. But it had felt so good to get her anger out somehow. And she'd needed to. She'd really needed to. Even if she shouldn't have. Neville hadn't defend himself properly. But he hadn't defended her either.

Her lip wobbled a little uncertainly as she stalked through the corridors but by the time she'd gotten to the door of the Slytherin common room she had schooled her features into cold, slightly haughty neutrality and breezed inside like nothing had ever happened. What was she doing with herself? She cast her eyes to the sofas before the fire where her friends lounged — Theodore and Daphne reading one another's tea leaves, Draco, Lucille, Blaise and Pansy playing cards, Gregory and Millie and Vincent deep in conversation. She caught Theodore's eyes and felt her cheeks blaze as she hurried to her own room.

She lay down, staring at the lines of the ceiling, as much a mess as her head was. She told herself she didn't need Neville or anyone else. Told herself she was being stupid, foolish — emotional. She wanted to hurl her bag at the wall but she held that feeling in, held it tight to her chest.

"Don't be weak," she spat at herself. "Don't cry. Don't you dare."