Merlin's Day was celebrated on the seventh of July, at the end of the Celtic Oak Month, to commemorate the day of his legendary battle with the sorceress Morgana. Aurora had attended only a handful of the celebrations as a child, alongside Arcturus, as he had not been particularly keen on them, or bringing her out with him. But this year, approaching the age of fifteen, Aurora counted as something on the edge of adulthood, and as such, had been invited to the celebrations at Greengrass Manor on her own accord. Daphne's family had long claimed ancestry from Merlin, along with the Pendragon line, having settled in Wales. Whether or not this held any truth, Aurora did not know — they were, after all, by no means the only family to claim such descent, and it was an awful stretch anyway — but it wasn't her place to challenge it. Everyone had a little bit of the Pendragons and their peers, after all. With the circumstances, she was just glad they had invited her — though the Greengrasses had always been pointedly neutral, even on the issue of blood purity, she felt that such a gracious invitation would not have been extended to her were it not for the recent events surrounding her father, and Fudge's statement of apology which placed her rather firmly in favour, and in the focus of society gossip.
"I know you're not quite out yet," Andromeda had reminded her, after they received the invitation one morning, "but you're certainly society adjacent. I'm not one for lecturing you on what you should and shouldn't do, and I'm sure you know anyway, but you ought to be careful. Most of the major pureblood and noble families will be there. And everyone will want to hear something from you. Especially now."
"I know," Aurora said, frowning across the lounge as she held the piece of parchment carefully in her hands, "but I'll just have to make sure I can spin it my way." It was what she had been going to do anyway. Daphne's family were well-regarded in the Ministry, and she had an uncle on the Wizengamot, as well as an aunt in the Minister's council. And with so many other members of high society among them, Aurora knew she would be a fool not to try and endear some to her side. Society was not a game only of gossip and dances as could so often be the case within the Slytherin common room; it was a game of alliance and negotiation, and it fell to her, as everything did now, to spin that to the advantage of her family.
"I know you will," Andromeda said, a clear smile in her whisper.
Aurora glanced up at her from the sofa, folding the invitation. "Were you familiar with the Greengrasses at all? You know, before?"
Andromeda smiled wryly. "Lavinia Greengrass, certainly. She was a Flint before marriage. I did not know her particularly well, but she was a... Friend, of my sister." That she did not specify which one told Aurora it was more likely Bellatrix than Narcissa. Andromeda had never, in her memory, spoken her name. "I know that she has always put an awful lot of stock in alliances and marriages and properiety. Even if purity is not so much of an issue, she cares an awful lot about doing things the 'right way'. She was never fond of me. She will be curious about you, though."
"I suspect most of them will," Aurora said, and Andromeda smiled wryly.
"Careful, that almost sounded like a complaint."
She pulled a face. "What about her husband? Daphne doesn't really talk about her aunt and uncle much, and we're not especially close."
"Cadoc wasn't so bad, as far as I remember him, though this was years ago. He was a Ravenclaw, actually. He'll want to know where you lie in the Assembly, but they all will, and you know that. What age are his children?"
"One son a year older than me, the others aren't in Hogwarts yet."
Andromeda hummed, and have her a significant look. "As I said. Lavinia cares about marriages, Cadoc cares about the Assembly, and they will want to play nice with anyone they can. There's nothing major to be wary of, besides the usual society posturing and gossip.
"And I can handle that," Aurora said. "Merlin knows."
Andromeda cracked a grin. "And we had better get you some new dress robes as well," she said. "I've heard you may be needing them at school this year, too."
Aurora stared at her. "How would you know?"
She just grinned and tapped the side of her nose.
"One thing at a time, dear. Write back to Lady Greengrass this afternoon. And we'll pop by Arbrus Hill later, too, see how your father is doing. Ted wants to hear his Quidditch chat."
Aurora smiled at that. The semi-finals were approaching — Ireland versus Peru, and Bulgaria versus Japan — with the final of the World Cup set for next month. Her father had taken an interest in the goings on of the cup almost immediately — apparently he and Aurora's mother had both been Beaters on the school team.
When they arrived to see her father, he was in better spirits than she had ever seen him in. At first, Aurora thought it was just because of the Ministry's statement, until they got into the drawing room and he said, sounding giddy, "Hagrid got my motorbike back to me!"
Aurora stared at him, while Ted and Andromeda both laughed. "What's a motorbike?"
Her father looked crestfallen. "A motorbike!" She gave him a blank look. It sounded Muggle. "It flies! Well, mine does — I'm not allowed to use it right now, cause of everything, but it's back!"
"What's the model?" Ted asked immediately, and her father launched into a lengthy description she could hardly keep up with.
Aurora turned to Andromeda, blushing, and asked in a whisper, "What is a motorbike?"
"You've seen a regular bicycle?" She nodded. "Well, it's like that, but you don't have to pedal. The Muggles make it run on an engine, like they do with cars. Dora wanted one, but knowing her she'd get her leg taken off. And they're awfully loud."
Aurora grimaced. "Sounds perfect."
Andromeda smirked in return, eyes flicking to where Sirius was telling Ted about the specifics of the levitation enchantments and invisibility booster. "Doesn't it just?"
Her father looked over again, grinning. "I can't ride it yet, obviously, but it's good! And I'm getting a load of all our old things back, too."
"Oh." She blinked. "Such as?"
Though his smile faded slightly as he spoke, her father managed to say, "From the flat, where we lived, between..." Between her mother dying and her father leaving. "The Ministry took everything, but they weren't allowed to just destroy all that we had."
"No one told me," Aurora muttered, and her father raised his eyebrows.
"I'm not surprised." His eyes looked down, and it took Andromeda to start up the conversation again, break him from the train of thought, back towards the motorbike, and the Quidditch Cup, while Aurora wondered, feeling uncertain and almost guilty, about what memories exactly might be uncovered.
-*
The trial date was set for the fifteenth of July, just over a week after Merlin's Day and the resumption of the Wizengamot. Aurora's time felt like it was being sucked away by meetings with her father and their lawyer, and one particularly stilted occasion when she, Potter, Granger, Weasley and Professor Lupin had all gathered in the same room with him. He had been overjoyed to see Potter, of course, which put Aurora in a bad mood for the whole day, though she did try to hide it.
In some ways, she was glad to get a break from it all and visit Daphne's aunt's estate for the celebrations. In others, she was terrified.
This time, she had not gone on any shopping trips with her friends to get her dress robes. She had ordered from the Twilfitt and Taffling catalogue and had her measurements taken, and Andromeda had seemed faintly emotional about the whole thing.
"It isn't as if I'm getting betrothed," she said, after the tailor had left, "it's just Merlin's Day."
"I know." Andromeda had bitten her lip. "You just remind me of when I was your age. It is strange."
The thought had unsettled her only a little.
The day of the celebrations, Andromeda did Aurora's hair and makeup for her, teaching her the charm to keep a hairstyle in place without product, which she said would come in useful sooner than Aurora expected, whatever that meant. Her robes were a soft shade of lilac, slightly more girlish, and the silhouette slightly less structured than Aurora would normally opt for, but she felt oddly weightless in the robes. By the time Daphne's mother arrived to pick her up — as the least awkward relation — Aurora was feeling quietly rather pleased with her appearance. Ted had insisted on taking photos beforehand that she could show off to her father when she next saw him, and she supposed it was nice to have a fuss made of her for a positive reason.
Greengrass Manor, far out in the Welsh countryside, was seemingly old as time, and unlike many other pureblood homes which had been patched up and renovated with magic over the years, it still bore the scars of the past.
She was ushered first upstairs, to where Daphne and her little sister were still getting ready. Daphne gave a light shriek when she saw Aurora in the doorway and rushed over, exclaiming about how awfully long it had been, and Aurora couldn't stop herself from smiling as she gushed about the holidays and her recent short break in Switzerland, giving every observation about the food, the landscape, the people. Astoria looked bored by the entire affair.
"She's just jealous none of her little friends get to come," Daphne whispered in Aurora's ear, "she always sulks like mad, but especially now all my friends are of an age to join us. And she doesn't seem impressed that I told her to keep an eye out for Draco."
"Why Draco?" Aurora whispered, grinning. She knew the Greengrass girl had been rather taken with her cousin last Summer, but it was an odd thing to still be worried over.
"She likes that he's blond," Daphne whispered back, as if the glowering Astoria couldn't hear them. "But I am certain he dyes it."
"I couldn't possibly say," Aurora told her conspiratorially, and Daphne cackled, whipping around to her sister.
"See, Astoria? I told you so!"
Astoria flung her hairbrush down and dragged her fingers through her to detangle it, a movement Daphne immediately chastised her for. "Astoria's a romantic at heart though, aren't you? She wants to marry for love." Daphne practically sang the last word, and Aurora grinned faintly.
"How wretched."
"At least I know someone will want to marry me," Astoria said. "Mother told Daphne that if she carries on the way she is with Theodore Nott, people will get the wrong impression."
Now it was Daphne's turn to scowl. "Mother doesn't know anything about love, though, does she?" she sighed, and before Aurora could try to discern what had just happened, her friend had taken her sternly by the elbow. "There is nothing romantic between Theodore and I. He's like a brother and besides, we're both practical, and we're also not stupid enough to worry about romance right now. It's little girls with fairytale dreams who'll get themselves in trouble." Then, she pinned the last of her hair behind her ear and said pointedly to Aurora, "And we ought to get to some proper company, anyway."
Astoria grumbled at her sister as she got up, going to join them. Both sisters exchanged one last annoyed glance before putting on almost identical smiles and facing the door. Aurora thought it was rather impressive, how rehearsed it was, as Daphne swept open the door into the hallway and went to find her parents who were waiting in the next room.
"You'll be announced separately of course," Aurelia told her, "just after Daphne. Phillip and I will be going with Astoria first. My brother and sister-in-law will already be down there."
Aurora nodded. Making an entrance by herself felt like a daunting task, but she had had all eyes on her before. Yet this felt different. She could feel the weight of expectation and preconception upon her already as they made their way downstairs to the wide balcony which, from the masonry and positioning, had likely once been battlements, overlooking the grounds which were now a garden. Magic hummed in the air, silver and green lights winding between the trees. The party was only just beginning, it seemed, but there were already around a hundred people gathered. Daphne took Aurora's hand as they reached the glass double doors.
"Are you nervous?"
"Of course I am not nervous, Greengrass," Aurora said as convincingly as she could manage. "Are you?"
Daphne grinned. "Not at all."
Someone at the foot of the staircase introduced Aurelia, Phillip and Astoria, to light and polite applause. "You remember my cousins' names, don't you? Rhys is the eldest, the year above us — and the other two are—"
"Tristan and Lynn," Aurora finished. "I have done my research, Daphne."
"I know," she said lightly, stepping forward, "I just don't want you to mess this up and give me a bad impression, too."
Then her name was announced and she strode onto the balcony with the grace of a swan in her floaty white dress. Aurora watched her go, feeling suddenly self-conscious. She had to put that out of her head, though. She had to keep her focus, and seek the advantage.
At the sound of, "Lady Aurora Black," Aurora knew people were turning to watch. She put on her most elegant smile as she made her way out, channeling every instruction she had ever received in a ballet lesson — posture, gait, charm — as she glided down into the garden. Her fingertips skimmed the bannister, while her other hand held her dress just ever so slightly aloft. Assessing eyes watched her descent; and then she stepped down, onto the light path verged with grass and vibrant wildflowers, and she could breathe.
Those eyes still followed her, but she hurried quickly to stand by Daphne, watching as Frida Selwyn emerged behind her parents, looking drowned in a midnight blue gown. "Poor thing," Daphne clucked, "she does look so dreadfully out of place. Aunt Lavinia disapproves — that was a rumour, about Frida and that Thomas boy, the Gryffindor Muggleborn — but she can't very well snub the Selwyns over rumour. Not just yet, anyway."
Though when Aurora glanced up, she thought Frida rather looked as though she would have preferred to have been snubbed. People were whispering all over, and Aurora's skin crawled. They could just as easily be whispering about her, after all.
The procession continued long after Frida. Aurora watched as Hestia and Flora came next — at an earlier age than most, due to their relation to the Greengrasses, as Aurelia's nieces — followed by the Bulstrodes and a very pale Millicent. Then came Pansy, in dress robes even frillier than last year's, beaming all the way, and then Lucille, perfectly postured in her usual shade of red.
Leah MacMillan came down too, managing to maintain a certain haughtiness about her even in frilly pink, and Aurora spied Alice Runcorn and Hannah Abbott at one point, too. The procession felt endless, and Aurora was rod-straight the whole time, terrified of a misstep. It was a relief when it came to a close, and new music started up.
Everyone moved together, so that they formed a ring just within the bounds of the orchids laid out in the grass. Very few people were dancing; negotiations had to be made first.
Daphne was swept away by her fussing mother and aunt, who were pointing out to her every eligible boy or man within a decade of their age. The Greengrasses may have been more progressive than some with regards to blood purity, but that didn't mean their daughters still weren't expected to marry for alliance over love. The expectation of that made Aurora's throat tighten, and she felt suddenly panicked, alone in the mass of people.
All the other young witches here had someone to guide them, to support them, and she suddenly wished desperately for her Aunt Lucretia. She would have pointed out everyone she needed to speak to, and told her how best to approach them, and she would have ensured Aurora held herself perfectly. Even Andromeda's guidance before the ball was not enough to abate the sudden nerves and the sense of absence that accompanied them, the knowledge that she was alone in her experience this night.
But she managed to catch the eye of Narcissa Malfoy, and even if she felt uncertain about Lucius, the face was familiar and friendly and her father's cousin swept down on her, beaming, in a cloud of sweet perfume and fluttering powder-blue robes.
"My darling," she said, taking Aurora's hands and kissing her cheeks swiftly. "You look radiant."
Aurora felt her cheeks heat, but reassurance pooled in her chest at Narcissa's presence. "Thank you, Narcissa."
"I didn't know if Andromeda would let you come to this," she said, shaking her head. "She never quite approved of the institution, but I must say, I am relieved you're here. We have things to discuss — and things beyond petty courtship, too."
Feeling startled, but relieved that she didn't have to think so directly about marriage yet, Aurora nodded along and let Narcissa guide her some way around the ring; she noticed, further away from Lucius. Still, his eyes tracked their movements from where he was engaged in conversation with his father, Lord Abraxas Malfoy, and Theodore's grandfather, Lord Nott. A chill went through Aurora. It was like he was seeing right through her, and she saw him for the first time too.
Blood of a blood traitor, that was what Lucius had called her. In her memory that the Dementors has dredged up, of the night her mother been murdered. By Lucius Malfoy and Bellatrix Lestrange and Merlin knew who else. She knew a Travers had been accused of starting the fire that had consumed the McKinnons.
The thought made her burn inside. There had been no one to defend her father, and because of that, he had been condemned as an innocent man — while others walked free from their crimes.
"Aurora, darling," Narcissa whispered, "you've gone quite pale."
She straightened sharply. She had to remember herself — remember her place. Aurora feigned a smile, poised and elegant, as she ought to be. "My apologies, I was swept away in thought for a moment there. What do you need to discuss, Narcissa?"
"My cousin," she said, lips pursed, "is he well?"
It was not an innocent question. "As much as he can be," Aurora said, going to clasp her hands together and then forcing herself to hold them by her side — Draco always noticed when she did that if she was nervous, and she knew his mother would pick up on it too.
Narcissa hummed. "I heard a rumour that you went to the Minister himself to demand he send out that statement."
"Demand is, perhaps, a strong word."
"Negotiate, then," Narcissa said with a knowing smile. "You don't need to be so guarded with me, Aurora. I have known you since you were a child. I know you are uncertain about what this means."
Her smile flickered. "And what do you think, Narcissa? Of what this means for you?"
Narcissa pursed her lips and looked Aurora up and down carefully. "Do you remain head of the family?"
"Yes."
"Good." She lifted her chin. "You ought to make yourself known more often. One can forgive a child for being out of the public eye, especially in your circumstances, but you are nearing adulthood. Sooner than you think." Catching Aurora's eye, she added with a smile, "I do not speak of marriage, don't worry. Merlin knows I have enough of that sort of talk with Draco and Lucius."
Aurora tried not to let her confusion show. "I certainly don't intend to hide away. But Hogwarts—"
"Will be much more... open, this year, shall we say?" Narcissa reached over to tuck a stray curl behind Aurora's ear for her, a maternal gesture that warmed her for a second and then, inevitably, brought her back to earth with a jarring thought of what it meant that she could have anything maternal from the wife of a man who had killed her own mother. But Narcissa had also had a hand in raising her, when she was young, softer than either her grandmother or Aunt Lucretia. She loved her, she always had — hadn't she?
"You ought to prepare. Now that the Ministry is trying your father so publicly, you will be in the light more than ever. I know you've noticed the attention all these guests are paying to you."
"Obviously."
"My husband is wary of it all. Things are changing. That is what he tells me. He thinks I don't hear anything else that he says." A prickle of cold went up Aurora's spine. Narcissa moved closer, taking her hands again. "You need to be careful, Aurora. All is not what it seems. You are the head of my family, too, remember."
"I would never forget."
Narcissa smiled and squeezed her hands. "We have a duty to one another, then. My relations with my sister are strained at very best, and with Sirius non-existent. The Black family is not what it once was. But we protect our own, when it comes to it, do we not? You are my own, Aurora. You know this too." Aurora nodded slowly. She hardly dared to look away. She could feel Lucius Malfoy's eyes on her. "My sources tell me you allied with Potter in your crusade against the Minister. Do you think that was a wise choice?"
Aurora weighed her answer before she gave it. "For now," she said softly. "We have one common goal. That may change easily. I do not have to be on his side, for him to be on mine." She raised her eyebrows just enough to make Narcissa smile. To know that she was balancing, even if she felt somewhat precarious. "Not that he needs to understand such things."
Narcissa smiled. "Indeed. I must say, I do approve. It is a risky decision. Not the move against the Minister, but the strength of it suggests a certain allegiance. You know this, though."
"I do." She nodded slowly. "But I know that the past speaks for me, too."
"As it should," Narcissa said. "The House of Black was great once. It pains me to see how it has fallen. I cannot say that I support Sirius. But I am interested to see what the future will bring. Nevertheless. You must be careful. Allegiances change. Targets change." The warning was clear if the words were not. "My son is naive to all that is happening around him. Innocent, perhaps, as children ought to be. I hope that you are not."
She swallowed. "No, I'm not."
"Good." Narcissa took a long, steadying breath and stepped away. "Now, as no one else has stepped forward for the role, I suppose I ought to assist you in finding a dance partner. I would say five turns of the floor would suffice to quell any nastier rumours, without generating uneccessary gossip, scandal or scramble. Seven would be generous."
Aurora nodded, eyeing the crowd of people. Dancing was expected, that was correct. Pansy had already found a Yaxley boy to dance with, and she spotted Lucille smiling tensely in the arms of someone who appeared to have no sense of musicality whatsoever. On the fringes, Draco was huddled with Blaise and Theodore, whispering and glancing around.
"There are Sebastian and Julian Carrow," Narcissa said, nodding to two dark-haired boys a few paces away from where Lucius Malfoy was standing. Aurora knew of them only in passing, though they were both Slytherins — the eldest, Sebastian, was a seventh year, and Julian in fifth year. Both kept to themselves rather. "The eldest boy, I have heard, has something of an attachment with Alexandra Bulstrode, and you would look best with the younger anyhow. A better match in height. Over there, the Runcorn boy must be a year or two older than you — it was a bit of an upset with the sister, but he appears above it. The MacMillan boy is your age but I have never met a MacMillan who wasn't a dreadful bore, and I do believe he is a Hufflepuff." Aurora's lips twitched in a smile. "Are you familiar with Lewis Stebbins?"
Aurora pursed her lips. "We've only spoken on a handful of occasions. He keeps company with Sally-Anne Perks and Apollo Jones, mainly."
Narcissa hummed, but her eyes lit suddenly. At the look, Aurora turned sharply to see someone she knew was one of Pansy's cousins, but whose name she couldn't for the life of her remember, coming around the edge of the path towards her.
"Do not look too excited," Narcissa murmured as she tugged Aurora back around to face her.
"I'm not excited," she said before she could stop herself, and then pursed her lips, ruffling the skirts of her robes just so and settling the necklace that hung around her neck.
"His name is Cecil," Narcissa whispered, just as there was a low cough from behind Aurora. Cecil. Of Pansy's male cousins, three were older than them and she was sure Cecil was in the same year as Cassius.
She turned with as much of a smile as she could muster for someone she didn't know. "Mister Parkinson," she said, inclining her head.
"Lady Black," he greeted in return, taking her hand and kissin the back of it as he moved into a low bow. Aurora tried not to let her discomfort show. She wanted to cringe away. "A pleasure. I believe you are acquainted with my cousin, Pansy?"
He knew fine well that she was. Aurora took her hand away with a delicate, measured smile, but she saw Pansy on the other side of the clearing gesturing to her, nodding quickly. "I am," she said slowly. "Did she ask you over here?"
Narcissa muttered something she couldn't hear and Cecil cleared his throat, flushing. "Well, I have to admit I'm curious." Of course he was curious. Everyone was curious about her, now. "Would you dance with me?"
Her immediate instinct was to say no. But that would be impolite, and raise eyebrows, and it was only one dance and Pansy seemed to want it to happen, as did Narcissa. The sooner she did this, the sooner she could have the ordeal of dancing and the stifling air of courtship over with. Even if she wouldn't formally court anyone at this age, it was a notion she didn't want to get too close to.
Realising she was taking too long to answer, Aurora took Cecil's outstretched hand and said in a strained voice, "It would be my pleasure."
The dance itself was simple enough. Aurora could follow it easily, the gentle turns and the small steps. The dance of conversation however, was difficult not in its complexity but in its dullness.
Cecil Parkinson had just achieved eight O.W.L.s and seemed to think that this news ought to have been splashed across the Daily Prophet, for he simply would not stop talking about the achievement. Even when Aurora attempted to steer the conversation into Arithmancy, a subject he had studied and that she was herself interested in, he managed to make it about how he had known all along that he had an aptitude for it and didn't need an exam to tell him so — Aurora suspected this indignation was due to the fact that he had only achieved an Acceptable — and her every mention of Arithmantic theory was twisted into the most basic of numerological explanations that she knew better out of a textbook and most certainly did not need a boy to explain to her.
The dance seemed endless, and Aurora was starting to wonder why she had ever thought that it was a good idea in the first place and had not run away at the first mention of socialising or courtship, when Cecil said in the most startlingly off-hand manner, "Of course, exams won't matter much for me anyway, more a matter of reputation than anything else. I suspect you will be the same, they won't matter once you have somewhere else to go. Dear Pansy might have to work now, though."
And he laughed.
Aurora tried not to stare or falter in her step. "Might she?"
"Well, if her father keeps going on the way he is."
He tightened her grip slightly and Aurora tried not to squirm, in favour of asking, "Why might that be?" At the look on his face, she added in a falsely sweet, naive tone, "Forgive me, I'm not certain quite how these matters you are describing play out."
"Politics, isn't it?" He shrugged, disrupting the flow of the movement when he was supposed to be spinning her under his arm. Instead, she nearly crashed into him. "I mean, she was supposed to be getting betrothed to that Malfoy, but you don't see them dancing tonight, do you?"
"I'm sure Pansy's just keeping her options open."
Cecil laughed. "More like Malfoy is. They're looking at Elinor now instead. I think she's young, but I suppose she won't be forever."
His grip on her felt suddenly suffocating but Aurora had to keep asking.
"I can't imagine why. Pansy is a most lovely girl."
"Oh, sure Pansy isn't the problem." He laughed again and Aurora forced herself to smile. "It's Uncle Julius, isn't it? I wouldn't expect you to understand, of course. We all have to keep our options open."
Aurora began to feel slightly sick. "I'm sure the issue will be resolved. Pansy and Draco would make a lovely match."
Cecil snorted and spun her again, as the music began drawing to a close. "Sure they would, but that isn't what matters." He moved ever so slightly closer than was proper and Aurora took a measured step backwards. "But I want to hear about you."
"I can't think why."
"Come on, I've told you a secret of mine." He smiled as if that meant anything to her, like he was doing her a service. "The Black heir's been hidden away so long. Pansy doesn't like to gossip about you, she says it's unfair to discuss the situation and you're her friend so she won't say a word, but I disagree. The Parkinsons make just as good allies as the Malfoys, you know."
That sick feeling curdled in her stomach. "I have no doubts of your power or your loyalty. Pansy and I are good friends. As are Draco Malfoy and I."
He shrugged again, and Aurora struggled to hide her annoyance. They were supposed to be gliding, and he was jolting the movement. In ballet, that could seriously hurt a partner at the wrong moment. "See, my mother is considering ladies for me already. A Flint, a Greengrass, a MacMillan and an Abbott, all lined up."
"How delightful for you," she said, voice dripping with sweet sarcasm.
He smirked down at her, picking up on it. He wanted her to know he was a desirable match. But why? MacMillan and Abbott were both fairly neutral parties as far as blood politics went, while the Flints and Greengrasses were known to shift alliances easily. "I hear you went to speak to the Minister yourself. That takes some strength. But you aren't quite in society now, are you? Not yet, anyway. But look at all the people watching you here. With me." That smirk only grew. "The Black name used to have power."
She stared at him and said, "It still does, so long as I am here."
"Precisely." He leaned closer and Aurora prayed for the song to just finish already. "Think about it, Black. You are acquainted with my family already. My cousin would welcome you as something closer to a sister. Any friendship would be prosperous for us both."
Then he spun her slowly again, just as the final chords of the dance ended.
"Thank you," she said, curtsying to him, trying to hide the tremour in her hands as she let go and worked out what to say. "You must excuse me for this next dance, there is someone demanding my attention."
In truth, there was no such person, but Aurora felt that if she had to dance with him a moment longer then her mind was simply going to stop working. Her hands and forehead both were clammy as she glided back out to the ring of people, trying to spy Narcissa and finding Pansy instead.
She gaped at her. "Your cousin—"
"I know," Pansy groaned, "I'm sorry. But Aunt Clarissa said one of them had to dance with you, and Edwin is far too old, Elliott's boring and Weylan reeks. He's the best of a bad lot, but it's over and done with now, he won't trouble you again."
"That's not — why are they trying to get your cousin to marry Draco? And why is Cecil interested in me?"
Pansy rolled her eyes as she looped her arm through Aurora's. "Everyone's interested in you tonight."
"Not like that. He was talking about alliances. What happened with the Malfoys?"
A dark look came over Pansy's face. "Somewhere quiet," she murmured, with a sideways glance at Muriel Prewett, who was known never to miss an opportunity for gossip. They moved off slightly closer to the staircase, by a fountain carved in the shape of a bouquet of daffodils. "I'm not supposed to know," she told Aurora quietly, once they were out of earshot, "because it doesn't concern me, which is ridiculous because it obviously does. It concerns me more than it concerns anyone else." She let out a long, harsh sigh. "My parents — well, my father, really — they've always been tight in with the Malfoys, obviously. But then, Lucius and my father had a falling out over some business thing, and Lord Malfoy got involved and then, I don't know quite what it is, but... There's something else going on. Something's happening this summer, some political thing, I don't know, they don't tell me anything, but I'd bet anything that's what the Malfoys are talking to Lord Nott about right now, too. But no one will tell me anything. Mother had Narcissa over for tea and I wasn't allowed anywhere near them." Rolling her eyes, Pansy glared in the direction of her mother, who was holding conversation with Cecil Parkinson and the elder Abbott girl — Lucy, Aurora believed her name was. "And now she's trying to set me up with, well, anyone she can get to look my direction basically! As if it's my fault!"
"As if what's your fault?"
"I don't even know! Mother said herself, my father's the one who got them in this mess and it's his job to get us out of it. She called him a coward the other day, they — they had a bit of a fight." At that, Pansy's cheeks went pink and she looked away. Aurora got the distinct impression that she wasn't meant to be relaying any of this, but no one was watching as she put an arm around her friend, hoping that the action was reassuring. "It wasn't bad. I mean, it was worse than usual but... They won't tell me anything! Even though it's my future! Apparently I won't understand, but I don't understand anyway. And I — everything could be so perfect, with Draco and I. But they're ruining that, and I don't even get to know any of what's happening. I don't want to get stuck with someone I don't like, or don't know, just because my father says so!
"And as for Cecil, his mother thinks he needs to start thinking about the future, and my mother, again, is looking anywhere she can."
"Which includes me," Aurora said, uncomfortable.
"I know, and I told them I didn't think you'd be interested at the moment, but when does my mother ever listen to me? If you ask me, it's all ridiculous. I'm only here because I like the dress robes."
A smile pulled at Aurora's lips briefly. "Narcissa didn't seem opposed to Cecil dancing with me," she mused. "She seemed to encourage it, actually. So even if there is an issue between your father and Lucius, it must be salvageable. Especially if your mothers are still taking tea together."
Pansy sighed. "I suppose so. It's all just so..."
"Frustrating?" She nodded. "I know."
Aurora looked up as Pansy's grip tightened around her, trying to catch sight of Narcissa again. She was at the other end of the ring, near to the enchanted instruments which played in mid-air, speaking to Marcus Flint's mother. The Quidditch Captain himself was nowhere to be found, which was good. Aurora didn't want to hear what he might think of her in a dress. She had had enough comments from him over the past two years.
"I still have between two and four dances to partake in," she murmured.
"My mother's probably furious that I'm not dancing right this minute," Pansy said, scowling at the ground. "I don't even like any of them. I know that isn't the point, but they're all dull, or we have nothing in common, or have never spoken before. It isn't very romantic."
"Marriage isn't romantic," Aurora said, wrinkling her nose. "Not really. This whole thing certainly isn't. Like you said." Her lips quirked up. "I'm only in it for the pretty dress robes."
At that, Pansy let out a small chuckle. "I wish it was more. But I suppose, I have to do what Mother wants me to do." She could hear the tension, the nerves, underlying that sentence, but before she could question it, Pansy had moved her arm so that it was linked through Aurora's again, and said, "Speaking of the devil, she's glaring at me. I think I have to dance again."
Aurora gave her a sympathetic smile, eyes combing the clearing, then nodded when she found her target. "I spy Blaise and Theodore. They're at least bearable company, and more manageable than most of the people here. Come on. You can take Blaise first, he's the better dancer."
That, at least, consoled Pansy. And dancing with Theodore was far better than with Cecil Parkinson, even if he was noticeably more nervous. Largely, this was because Theodore, unlike Cecil, was not a prat, nor did he attempt to drag Aurora into a ludicrous feud via the suggestion of marital relations. Instead, he asked about her summer and they shared their predictions about the Quidditch Cup, both agreeing that Bulgaria was the underdog reliant on their Seeker. When Aurora asked after his summer and family, however, his smile faded somewhat. Even though he tried to hide it, Aurora recognised what he was doing. She did it often, too, after all.
"I hope everything is well," she told him softly as the music slowed around them.
He frowned, another familiar expression like he was holding back his words. "I'm sure it will be. Just my mother... But my grandfather says it's nothing."
She recognised that too. The feeling that something was amiss and everyone was denying the obvious, thinking he couldn't work it out. "She's unwell?"
"We're not supposed to talk about it," Theodore said quickly, then forced a smile. "How's your father? We didn't really get a chance to speak — I mean, I get if you don't want to, but..."
His face was almost awkward, endearingly uncertain as he turned her in his hold. "Not here, I don't," she admitted, casting a wary eye towards Lords Avery and Thorel, both of whom were watching her intently. "It's delicate. But he is well." She gave a tentative smile, one which Theodore returned even if it didn't quite reach his eyes. "You don't want to talk about your mother either."
He shook his head, eyes darting about. "Not here," he agreed, and Aurora nodded, as the song wound to its end and partners separated across the floor.
He took a step back, holding her hands and bowing slightly. "Write to me," Aurora said, "if you need me."
"I'll be fine," he said, and she let him think she believed it.
As Theodore left, Aurora turned, searching for Narcissa or Pansy or Draco. Instead, she found Lord Rosier making his way over to her, with Abraxas Malfoy and Lord Nott in tow. Rosier and Nott both cast her suspicious, yet curious, looks, while Abraxas looked merely wary. Another who had not thought to reach out to her at all since the passing of her family. It seemed they only came to her when they wanted something. The other two, it wouldn't bother her — even though the Blacks had a Rosier connection, as Andromeda and Narcissa's mother had been born into that family — but even though she didn't like or know Abraxas particularly well, it did not escape her that this familial tie did not mean anything to him.
"Miss Black," Lord Rosier greeted, and she disliked him immediately.
She smiled back stiffly, inclining her head only slightly. "Mister Rosier," she returned, in a pleasant tone, and watched his irritation flicker. "Lord Malfoy. Lord Nott. How lovely to see you."
Trying not to show her nerves, she made her way off the main dance clearing, towards the crowds.
"Likewise, Lady Black," said Abraxas, eyebrows raised. "It has been quite some time."
"Indeed," she said, holding his gaze. "Last I recall we spoke, I must have been eleven."
He smiled thinly. "You certainly have changed since then, Lady Black. As has everything."
"So it appears," she agreed, looking between them all, trying to figure out what they wanted and why they approached together. Nott, she suspected, was here to pass comment on her dance with Theodore. The other two, she had no idea, other than political motivations. Questioning her loyalty, her affiliation, her place with her father restored. "Might I help you, gentlemen?"
Something annoyed ticked in Rosier's jaw. "As Lord Malfoy said," he drawled, "it has been a long time since the House of Black has opened its doors. We did wonder at the timing. Of your father's innocence... Why, I am sure no one suspected."
Evan Rosier, the name came to her. A Death Eater, killed in the last war. Had he been involved, she wondered, in her mother's murder? He must be the son or nephew of Lord Rosier, she was sure it was the latter.
"It would have done us all a service if they had," she replied clippedly, wondering where this was going. "But justice, I am sure, will be done."
Lord Nott raised his eyebrows. "Do you believe so? You have faith in the Ministry?"
She smiled thinly. "I would like to." His own son, she knew, was imprisoned in Azkaban, and there had been a time when it looked like Lord Nott might have joined him there. Perhaps he was angling for some greater release, retrials, now that confidence in the Ministry and its judicial process had been shaken. "For now, we shall see what comes of the trial."
"And your father," Malfoy said, "why, I remember him as a child." From the look on his face, he did not remember it with a particular fondness. "Tell me, will he take the Assembly position?"
The question felt like a slap to the face. She blinked, though she supposed she shouldn't really have been surprised by the question.
"I was named explicitly as heir by the late Lord Arcturus," she told them as calmly as she could, ignoring Rosier's flickering gaze. "So no. I shall remain Lady Black and carry out the appropriate duties."
The Assembly had not sat officially in over a year, anyway. The Ministry had said years ago that they would make it a more regular sitting, but in truth, most of the work of its hereditary members was in influencing the members of the Minister's Council, and the work of its elected in trying to communicate and collaborate for their constituents outside of the formal setting. There wasn't much to truly legislate for, at the moment, anyway, though the fact that the were asking made Aurora wonder if they knew something she did not.
The three men exchanged glances, that were cold but almost amused, and she felt that awful nauseous feeling that she was being privately mocked by their gazes.
"Is there a specific issue?" she asked, doing her best to appear aloof. "I am open to discussions."
She would rather not have discussions with them, though. Their eyes crawled over her, probing, mocking, questioning. "The House of Black has long been associated with the Houses of Rosier and Malfoy," Rosier said, explaining it in a tone as if he thought she did not already know this, as if he expected her to be ignorant. She tried desperately to hold back her glare.
"I am aware."
"The late Lord Arcturus, by the end, had let that association slip somewhat." Probably, Aurora thought, because he realised how awful they all were. "He was secretive, in those days. Would not answer very many questions about you." His gaze slipped over her. "We are curious, you see. The late Lord Arcturus never did say..." Her stomach rolled. "What family was your mother from?"
There it was. The question, innocent thought it may have been received, was anything but. He was taunting her with it, she could see it in his eyes. Lord Malfoy at least had the audacity not to look directly at her.
"We did not discuss my mother," she said in a flat voice. "She has nothing to do with me."
"Surely your father must have mentioned. It seems such a needless secret."
The worst kept secret of the House of Black. But she would not give them ammunition in the form of confirmation. Instead, she raised her eyebrows and schooled her face into an impression of boredom as she regarded Lord Rosier. "My lords, this does not seem to be about me, or politics. I fail to see what my mother, who has long since left us—" She tried not to look at Abraxas as she said this, nor over his shoulder towards Lucius, who was watching, but she failed "—has to do with my political affiliation."
Rosier sneered. It meant everything, she knew.
"Forgive Lord Rosier's indelicacy," Abraxas said smoothly. She was sure he knew, or at least suspected. But he would know because of Lucius, know because of the Dark Lord, if Arcturus had truly kept so quiet about it to everyone. "We understand you must be busy at the moment. But your house is, officially, unaffiliated." His smile was deceptively warm. "The Insular Alliance would welcome House Black into the Assembly."
She tried not to laugh. The Insular Alliance stood for the 'old ways' to prevent Muggles and wizards mixing, to stop Muggleborns holding positions in society. They all knew, or at least suspected, that she was not truly pure of blood. Even this she felt was a test, or a chance to mock her, or both.
But she would not give them the satisfaction of bowing out. "I will of course, give it my due consideration."
She smiled tensly, nodding to them in turn, and it was Abraxas who became leader as he turned away, murmuring something to Rosier.
Only, Lord Nott lingered. His eyes were calculating, cold, and his swept over to Theodore, who was standing with his brothers and sister, by the edge of the clearing.
"Make no mistake, Lady Black," he murmured, "everyone knows your potential. Do not waste it. But." His eyes held a steely, cold glimmer. "I did see you with my grandson." He looked her up and down. "It would do you some good to remember your place."
Cold went through her, and she forced a smile. "I hope I did not offend you, Lord Nott."
"Of course not." He gave her a look as if her mere presence was offensive. "I merely wish to pass on some advice. Everyone wants only the best for our heirs. Theodore is on an important path. Let us not get carried away with ideas that are beyond our status, hm?" Lord Nott gave her another calculating look, then nodded. "Give your father my regards." She absolutely would not. "Azkaban is such a lonely place."
Then he turned, and was swallowed by the crowd.
Aurora took a step back, finally feeling like she was able to breathe again, only for Narcissa to appear again, like a demon summoned.
"What did my father in law say to you?" she asked quickly, right in Aurora's ear, and she blinked.
"Merlin knows." She winced. "He only meant to inquire as to mine and my father's political associations going forward. I told him the truth, that it is still left uncertain."
"Good," Narcissa told her, with a sigh. "Tell him nothing of worth." The fact that the warning was necessary to come from Narcissa made her even more nervous. Why were they so interested to have her affiliation, even while mocking and questioning her, and barely being subtle about it? Lord Nott clearly did not like her, and warned her away, so why would he want to even suggest alliance?
"Is there something I ought to know?"
Narcissa had a heavy look in her eye, and it took her a long time before she shook her head. "I am sure all will be well." Aurora was not. "I see you and Pansy were deep in discussion."
Aurora nodded. "We were weighing up her choices." She glanced up, but Narcissa had always been good at keeping on that mask of cool indifference that gave absolutely nothing away. "I had expected her to be dancing with Draco. Though I've barely seen him either." Perhaps by design.
"My husband thinks it's best to keep Draco's options open," Narcissa said, with the slightest sigh in her voice. "He is only young, which I'm sure Pansy understands. As does her mother." Aurora gave a non-committal hum in reply.
"Naturally. I must admit I was surprised, though."
Narcissa's lips pressed into a thin smile. "Surprises occur for all of us. But nevertheless — we have to put on a show of unity, don't we?" When Aurora didn't say anything more, Narcissa added, "Lord Malfoy wants only the best for Draco and for his future. As we all do. He does not mean to cause offense if he... Speculates, on certain aspects."
Like her blood status, Aurora thought, heart pounding. She nodded sharply and Narcissa's smile was, almost surprisingly, one of sympathy.
"Be careful, Aurora. You may not be Abraxas's and Lucius's, but you are my family. I will not let him forget that." She put a hand on Aurora's shoulder, which might have been comforting, had she felt Narcissa had been there for her in the past years, before now. "Don't you forget it either."