Aurora was, in a word, trying. Trying many things, in fact. Trying to study, trying to co-operate with Potter — easier said than done, given his chaotic way of dumping information and her hectic schedule — trying to dig into the relationship between Karkaroff and Crouch, and, above all, trying to keep a smile through it all.
She had known for a while that she was not doing her best, that she was pushing her friends away. At first she had dismissed it as a temporary issue, affecting only her, and something that she could get back on top of. But her conversation with Theo had revealed to her that that was not the case. It was not her own ease of mind that was going downhill these days, and that the way in which she had responded to her stress, by taking it out on her friends, wasn't right. The last thing she wanted to do was hurt them, and though Draco and Pansy would never admit it, nor would the others, she could not bear the thought.
She forced herself to smile every morning at breakfast, to ask about everyone's day at lunch and — for the first couple days before she realised it was the last thing anyone wanted to discuss with her — to inquire after their study progress. She was doing rather well. In dance club on Tuesday nights, she and Leah MacMillan were working on a routine together, and she found it easy to get along with her while they had something to do. Leah was good company, and level-headed at the same time, which she liked. They shared a similar energy, a similar view of the world, and it was nice to be recognised, to feel that amid the stress she was managing to maintain the image of normality, to maintain friendships and her own life.
It came crumbling down the Monday a week before her first exams, the day before the Assembly election campaigning officially began. She had gotten to the Great Hall early for breakfast, joined only by Leah and Apollo Jones, though Theo sat further down the table with his sister. They made small talk and Apollo went over his Herbology notes with her as the hall began to fill with friends and chatter.
And then the owls swooped down. Aurora swept her copy of the Daily Prophet from the owl headed for her, awaiting information of some election news or last-minute candidacy announcements.
Instead, she saw her own face staring from the page. Her stomach dropped. Not again. She couldn't do this again.
Her hands trembled around the paper as she tried to tear her gaze away, but Leah was looking at her with bemusement, and some others had picked up papers too, their gazes flickering along the table and back again.
She didn't want to read what had been written about her. But she did need to know what people thought of her.
Already fighting nausea, Aurora forced herself to read.
Almost two years ago, Sirius Black caused a stir amongst the Wizarding population when he escaped from Azkaban prison — the first ever to do so. A year later, he and his daughter — now Lady Aurora Black — caused shockwaves revealing and defending his innocence before the Wizengamot, and winning their case. Months later, Aurora Black made her debut in the Legislating Assembly, alongside family friend, Harry Potter.
But there is more to Aurora Black than meets the eye. Indeed, the whole Black family has been embroiled in scandal for decades, and under the watch of the young and inexperienced Lady Black, the truth is beginning to bubble to the top. Dark magic, secret squibs, and a secret Muggle parentage — now, dear readers, I shall reveal all.
It has been brought to my attention that Aurora Black's parentage is indeed less than pure. As many readers will know, it is tradition amongst families such as the Black family to arrange marriages for their children. One such attempt was made for a young Aurora Black, and yet did not succeed. According to my source, this was due to the late Lord Arcturus's inability to produce proof of Aurora Black's pure blood, and refusal to name her mother. Such a reluctance can only indicate one thing: that Aurora Black's mother was indeed, a muggleborn. Rumours name one Marlene McKinnon — allegedly Sirius Black's long-term girlfriend while at Hogwarts — as the mother, and records show that, while Miss McKinnon had two wizard siblings, their parents were muggles.
Such a revelation will come as a shock to many. That the family sought to conceal the true identity of young Lady Black from the rest of the world surely indicates a greater scandal is afoot. With the campaigns for the next Assembly election about to begin, and Lady Black herself yet to give an endorsement or to choose a side, we all must ask ourselves — who is this woman, and what more is being hidden from us?
Perhaps it is best to get to know Aurora Black through those who have actually been surrounded by her — her peers at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Currently hosting the international Triwizard Tournament, the school has been abuzz al year, and this avid reporter has been on top of it all. One young man, a Mr Colin Creevey, described Lady Black as 'rather intimidating' and described to me an incident in which she threatened him after an allusion was made to her less-than-ideal parentage. Another student, who wishes to remain anonymous, claims that Lady Black has always been suspiciously cagey about her family background, instead insisting upon attention in the Slytherin common room, perhaps as compensation for the status she knows she is lacking compared to the pureblooded peers she so desperately tries to emulate.
Lady Black's records in the Legislating Assembly are feeble. Only two voting occasions; one on a minor issue of dragon trading into Britain, the other on the reasonable restriction of the rights of werewolves. For the first, Black was in favour of further trading opportunities. For the latter, in a rather surprising move, Black voted against the movement to restrict werewolves from holding influence over public affairs and becoming involved in the education of our vulnerable children. The latter motion passed despite Black's wishes.
Perhaps Black's favour towards werewolves stems from her relationship with one of Hogwarts' teachers last year, whom it was revealed is a werewolf. Lady Black apparently was a favourite student of the ex-Defense the Dark Arts Professor, Professor Lupin, a questionable tie. Yet it makes sense that the Lady Black might seek out allies also of a lesser calibre. Might the werewolf's agenda have influenced Lady Black's vote? An impressionable young girl with a secretive past, does not a good politician make. Especially in the run up to such an important election — one in which Lady Black may endorse a candidate for her partnership in control of the shire of Cornwall — the fact that so much power rests on the whims of a silly teenage girl, a liar and by many accounts, irresponsible and self-centred, is frightening.
According to sources at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Aurora Black also made a splash at the school's Yule Ball — a long-standing tradition of the Triwizard Tournament, which is being held at Hogwarts this year — by stepping out with none other than Cassius Warrington, a hitherto unknown young wizard, the son of an untitled Ministry official. Mr Warrington himself declined to comment, but their peers have told me the match was surrounded by secrecy and nighttime liaisons — not something appropriate for a young woman of a noble house. Politically, Lady Black seems not to know which way to turn, caught between a progressive, radical extreme, and the whims of a young and immature heart. Others have also pointed out Aurora Black's close relationships with other students — housemates Blaise Zabini, Theodore Nott, and Robin Oliphant, not to mention the Boy-Who-Lived himself, Harry Potter — suggesting a long line of romantic conquests in lieu of political ability. Lady Black is undoubtedly a pretty girl, but it seems beauty has turned to vanity and pretensions of power.
Loose morals, loose political affiliations, and a loose grasp on the truth. These seem to be the characteristics which Aurora Black is allowing to define her. In the midst of election campaigning, we all wait to see how Lady Black will manage politics. I did wonder, many months ago, when writing a profile on Aurora Black for Witch Weekly, whether she would sink or swim.
Now, the former is, I believe, more likely. And, perhaps, for the best.
The scrambled eggs she had just eaten felt like they were about to make their way back up. It was a strange thing, to be so numbed by shock that the rest of the world fades out, that even warmth leaves you, until all that goes through one's mind is fear and terror and the words they have just written, over and over again.
Sink or swim. Marlene McKinnon. Muggleborn. Less-than-ideal parentage. Romantic conquests in lieu of political ability. Pretensions of power.
Choose a side, choose a side, choose a side.
"What does it say?" Leah asked from across the table, brow furrowed. "Has something happened?"
She did not know how to speak. She shook her head.
Loose morals. A lesser calibre. Less than pure.
They had named her mother. Rita Skeeter knew her name, knew who she was, knew far more than Aurora had ever been willing to tell anyone. She knew things she should never know, and things Aurora had never wanted published.
Choose a side, choose a side, choose a side.
But she didn't want to be on a side where she had to hide that. When the fear of someone knowing something so simple as the identity of her own mother — something even she had had hidden from her — was so great it made it feel sick.
The nausea roiled through her. But Aurora did not want to react. Did not want to be seen to react, at any rate. Aware of the eyes on her, of everyone from Snape to Dumbledore, she folded the newspaper up and placed it face down and, with shaking hands, downed the last of her pumpkin juice.
"Nothing of interest," she lied in her most cheerful manner, placing the paper in her satchel. Perhaps she could burn it later. "I assure you."
She hurriedly finished off her slice of toast, just as she caught the eye of Hermione Granger across the hall. Her stomach swooped.
"I do think I should go to the library soon, though. Early start for exams, and all that."
They both knew something had happened, she wasn't stupid. But she made herself wait a little while, just to make herself look calm, collected, like she didn't think her entire world had been swept away, that she was adrift in open water. Three minutes, three terrible minutes where she felt like she was going to pass out the whole time, hardly aware of the conversations around her.
Then she stood, smiled at the pair across from her, and walked as calmly to the door as she could, biting down on her trembling lip.
When she turned the corner and was alone, she burst into tears.
For so long she had tried, to be the perfect heir, the perfect lady. And then she had tried to mix that with being Aurora, with being such a ludicrous thing as happy and normal and just an ordinary teenage witch. She had gone on a few dates with one boy whom she liked; she had had the audacity to exist outside the realm of 'pureblood' and to have her own views on the world, to not conform to what other lords wanted her to. And maybe Rita Skeeter was only one woman and maybe Aurora could ignore her, but the noise of a world that hated her was growing so, so loud.
And she didn't want to be in that world anymore.
But, Merlin, that world was the only one she'd been taught to know. And while the world had gotten greater and wider these past few years, taking the leap had felt so terrifying. It still was. Yet she knew, and had known for a long time, that world didn't want her. But it wasn't the only one. This was not the only way.
Still, what Skeeter had written hurt and she knew it would have repercussions and she would not know how to deal with them. She hated not knowing how to deal with something, hated the irrational and the unknown. Storming down the familiar Hogwarts corridors was the only familiarity she could cling to, but her vision was smudged and blurred by tears and she could hardly contain herself, anyway.
It was silly that the world felt like it was crashing down over one such simple thing but it was and perhaps this wasn't so simple at all. It wasn't just an unkind article, it was cruel and it was exposing and unnecessary and as she ran to the girls' bathroom, trying to hold back the gasping sobs, it felt like it could destroy her.
She was barely aware of her own movements as she hurried inside the deserted bathroom, headed straight for a cubicle which she slammed shut and locked behind her. She slammed the toilet lid down and perched on the edge, drawing her knees to her chest.
This was shit. This was fucking shit.
Aurora slammed a hand out against the cubicle wall in anger. How was this fair, how was this right, and how could she bring herself to feel so utterly wrecked by it?
She had been trying. Through exams and elections and the threat of her own convict cousin wanting to murder her, through the drifting apart of friendships and the terror of losing them, she had tried. And she had been doing better, she thought, but if she was alright then how come this one article made her cry like this, to twist up her insides and make her want to churn them out with burning pain.
"Stop overreacting," she hissed at herself, squeezing her hands together. Because it was an overreaction — wasn't it? She didn't know. She couldn't even think about it because the words kept echoing over and over in her head; less than pure, a lesser calibre, young and immature heart. As if she wanted to be Lady Black at fifteen, as if she could choose her heritage, or the age at which her own great-grandfather died, as if she wouldn't have been so, so much happier if she wasn't forced to deal with all this crap!
And it all, the chaos, reminded her of everything else she had heard and seen addressed to her. Of the way the pureblood lords looked down their noses at her and the way Lucius Malfoy had always been cold to her even when she was considered something of family, and the constant awareness of the judgmental states in the common room, curious and scrutinous, all ready to send information back to parents and family if she slipped up, if there was ever any whiff of drama around any of the Slytherins. It seemed many of them were willing to report back to Rita Skeeter, too, happy to have the world know any of her business.
Someone knocked on the cubicle door and she jumped. "Aurora?"
It was Leah's voice. Shit.
"You alright? We uh, looked at the Prophet after you left and—"
"I'm fine!" she said in a shrill voice, then sniffled.
"Do you want me to go find Pansy? Or Gwen?"
"I'm fine! Honest!"
There was an awkward shuffling outside, and Leah sighed. "Right. I mean, if you're sure. We just reckoned I should come check."
"Thanks," Aurora said, struggling to keep her voice even. "But it's really okay. I'll see you in class, yeah, I just need a moment."
There was a moment's silence, before Leah said, "Alright, then." She waited another few seconds, in which Aurora desperately held her breath to avoid audibly crying, and then Leah was gone.
She exhaled and a sob spilled over. It was unstoppable after that, a torrent of shaking terror and choking pain. The world wanted to ruin her, Skeeter wanted to ruin her, and for what? A story? To re-establish some meaningless order? Simply because she could?
Of course, that was why anyone did anything. She could be a target because she was young and inexperienced and imperfect. Less than pure.
Aurora curled her fists and held her knees tightly to her chest, shaking, just trying to stay stable and seated and stop from falling apart entirely.
It made her want to throw up, the thought of all the things that had been being said about her. Surely this wasn't all, this couldn't be everything. Worse things may have been said or thought and shared. In fact, she was near certain that they had. Someone would know, surely, though she wasn't sure that she wanted to hear all the gossip and rumour and spite that had been circling around her person.
Pansy might know. But she couldn't bring herself to ask. She didn't want to hear the confirmation that people hated her, that people actually believed her inferior or useless or stupid.
She forced herself to breathe, clutching her knees for stability. In, two, three, four. Out, two, three, four. The world was not ending, the world was not ending.
She slid off the edge off the seat, cringing as she sat down on the floor, though at least it made her feel less like she was going to faint. Her head was spinning, the whole room was spinning, and her mind was an echo chamber. She wished she'd taken the Prophet with her, if only so she could set it on fire. Watching it burn might be cathartic; even imagining it made her feel a little more at ease, like there was something at least that she could do.
People came in and out of the bathroom, to the sounds of shuffling feet and hushed voices, and they all just made her feel more sick and detached from reality. She listened to other girls exchange gossip about the Ravenclaw prefects in amidst makeup tips and lipgloss shades.
Aurora tried brushing tears away from her eyes, but more kept blooming and burning. Her makeup would be ruined and then everyone would know she had been crying and then people would find out why and they would know it was true, and that she was weak, and that she couldn't handle this. And to fix that she would have to go back to her dorm and fix it but she didn't have time and at any rate, how was she supposed to get out of the bathroom without anyone noticing that she had obviously been crying in there for at least twenty minutes.
She sniffled and grabbed some loo roll to try and sort the worst of the tears, but that just made her cry more. She was a mess and she hated it. She wasn't supposed to be a mess; she wasn't supposed to prove her critics right.
Her name filtered through the chatter, and she straightened. That was Pansy's voice. Then, she heard Gwen's, and the sound of it spliced her heart open. She didn't want to face then, she couldn't face anyone.
But they were here. They were here for her.
"I haven't seen her," someone said, "sorry."
Aurora winced, holding her breath, hoping they'd go away. Not because she didn't want to tell them — really they were the only people she could trust to see her cry — but because she didn't know how to even begin to explain everything in her mind to two people from such different perspectives.
"Leah said she was in here, but that was a while ago..."
"Try the library?"
"Aurora?"
She did not reply. There was quiet in the bathroom.
"She must be library. Or maybe the common room, I'll check our dorm, come on."
The two girls left and Aurora could breathe again. But she hated hiding, hated having anything to hide from them, and that made tears burn again, made self-hatred claw its way up her throat. She'd have to see them in first period anyway, would have to see everyone. For a moment she considered hiding in the bathroom all day but she knew that was impossible and besides, school came first, it always did.
But she didn't want anyone to deal with her like this. She wasn't sure who she could even talk to who could begin to understand or even to care. No one at Hogwarts, anyway.
Her father, though. He thought he might understand, a bit, and certainly Andromeda would, and as soon as the thought was planted in her head, Aurora desperately wanted to see her father. Someone who she knew simply loved her, unconditionally, and who she trusted always would. Someone who she maybe hadn't shown enough love to, but really should have. And she wanted out of here, she realised; she was restless in her anger and in her fear. Restless in her own self, perhaps uncomfortable with it.
Her crying eased a little as she thought over this, trying to rationalise her feelings. Yes, there was something of a solution to feeling crap. But it wouldn't solve the underlying issue, which was that she was not approved of by the people whose opinions mattered politically. That she didn't know what she could possibly do to fix that.
Perhaps that was the solution, she thought dimly, as the bell rang and she forced herself to get to her feet, gathered her bag and check she had everything she needed. Perhaps there was no way for her to get the approval of the likes of Rosier and Malfoy and Travers, or from Skeeter or her readers. And, well, if they were going to hate her for something as unchangeable and futile as her mother's heritage, she wasn't sure that she wanted that approval anyway.
When the bathroom cleared, she managed to make it out the stall, checking her face in the mirror. Not as bad as she'd thought — Gwen's Muggle mascara was waterproof and held up well — but her eyes were rimmed with red and her cheeks were blotchy, and no quick beauty spell was going to fix that.
"You look stupid," she muttered to herself, trying to run a little colour-correcting charm Daphne had taught her, and which she had never managed to get to work right. She fought back the fresh tears. She couldn't have everyone see her like this, couldn't let them know that Skeeter had gotten to her. She had approximately seven minutes to get to History of Magic, halfway across the castle. At least she could fix her hair, taking it down to comb out the little baby hairs that had come out of her usually tight updo, and then put it back up in a ponytail. Hair, perfect. Face, decidedly not. World? Absolutely wrecked.
She gripped the edge of the sink, turned the cold water on and dabbed her cool hands against her cheeks, in an attempt to calm the flaring of her skin.
"Right," she told herself.
Less than pure, loose morals, inadequate.
"Deal with it."
A wave of nausea swept over her for just a moment and she squeezed her eyes shut, dropping her head. Breathe in, out, carefully. Six minutes.
Sink or swim. Lesser calibre. Immature.
She forced herself to stand upright, to stare in the mirror and deal with the reality of her existence. Her face seemed detached from the rest of her body; her hair didn't fit her, it was like she had been pasted in to the mirror as a false reflection. But no, she was real. She flexed her fingers and held her wrist, felt her pulse.
She squeezed her eyes shut, counted to ten, and wiped away the just-blooming tears when she opened her eyes again. Five minutes.
It was only History, though. Binns wouldn't notice.
She would force herself to come out after break, maybe.
But her absence would be noticed by her peers. They were who mattered. They shared class with Ravenclaw and Merlin knew they spread gossip worse than anyone — all knowledge had to be shared, regardless of whom it may hurt. No, she could not hide and show weakness. She daren't make things worse by doing so.
Hauling her bag over her shoulder, she hurried out, headed for class. She was quick, taking the secret passages that she could, all while feeling more and more faint and wretched. When she arrived, she was one of the first. No one ever bothered turning up for History on time; Binns barely noticed anyone's existence anyway.
The only people there were three Ravenclaws, and Theodore Nott, his head in a book. Predictable. Stable. She held her breath as she walked round the corner and hurried until she was just a few paces from him. She leaned against the wall, avoiding eye contact, and counted down the minutes.
She could feel his gaze on her. Heard a book snapping shut and footsteps, as he came to her side. Aurora glanced up momentarily, as he handed the book to her.
"Need something to borrow?" he asked with a knowing, sad smile.
For a moment she didn't know what to say. Skeeter's article rang in her mind, still. "I..."
She remembered Pansy saying about the altercation with Theo and the Carrows, her hints that something had been said that shouldn't have. And she wondered — she had to — if anything had ever been said about her. After all, last Summer, it had been Lord Nott who had made the insinuation about her blood status, about her suitability.
"Did you read the Prophet this morning?" Theo nodded gently. "Then you know."
A hesitation, then he pressed the book he was holding into her hands. A Concise History of British Magic. Aurora looked up at him, grateful for the silent question and gesture. "Can we go over this at break?" she asked, and he nodded.
"Sure."
Sitting through the class was torture. If it had been any other class then she might have been able to focus on the teacher's words or the take given out, but Binns' lectures were boring at the best of times, and everything he said was a hase compared to the pounding in her head, the constant feeling of illness and exhaustion, and the unrelenting awareness of Pansy and Draco whispering about her. Even if their words were of concern, it grated. She didn't want people to have to be concerned about her.
Break time couldn't come quick enough. With thoughts spiralling, her grip on her bag had tightened over the course of the lesson, and when the bell rang she all but bolted from the room, Theo hot on her heels.
She wasn't sure where she was going until she got there, to a little alcove near the Charms corridor, rarely used at this time of the day. Theo, to his credit, refrained from commenting on the strange location and the dusty walls. Out of breath, she whirled around to look at him.
"We all know Skeeter was bang out of order," Theo said at once, and she groaned.
"I know she's out of order." She swallowed tightly. "Who — were you all talking about it?" Theo shifted uncomfortably.
"I mean... I wasn't, not with Flora and them. But Pansy brought it to my attention, and everyone was worried. They did come looking for you..."
"I know. I didn't want to see them. Still don't."
He tilted his head. "Why not?"
"I just can't."
He seemed to consider this for a moment, then nodded. "Why me, then?"
She couldn't come up with much of an answer for that. All she managed to say was, "I have questions for you."
This seemed to take Theo by surprise, but he nodded and she pressed, "Pansy told me that there was some sort of incident during Easter, with you and the Carrows and her cousin Cecil. She implied things had been discussed and I know you... May have heard things at dinners and I want to know what."
It was clear from the unease in his eyes that something had indeed been said. "My great-grandfather tried to arrange a match for me to a Carrow," she told Theo, "and Skeeter seems to know about why that fell through. The timing is interesting."
"Oh." His gaze cleared. "Oh, Merlin, Aurora... I didn't want to have to tell you."
"What was said?"
"I..."
"Theo, please. I need to know. I — I think I already know, I know they dislike me, they think it wrong for me to be in any way involved in their world but I — I need to know what people are saying about me. I'm sorry, I know this isn't an easy position for you, but I need you to tell me."
"Why? Why me?"
"Because I trust you."
Perhaps more than she trusted Draco or Pansy, this was trust in a different way. That she valued his honesty but also his judgment, his opinions. Her heart was pounding as she looked at him, the soft eyes and gentle face and the uncertainty reflected there. "Please?"
"What if someone hears?"
"This tapestry is soundproof."
Theo nodded, sighing. "Alright, I... I probably should have said something before, I don't know. I'd no idea anyone was going to say anything more publicly, or that Skeeter was interested, or that this stuff — it was this one conversation, really — was more than it was. And I don't know if what I heard was really directly linked to this, I can't say. But, well... If you really want to know what was said.
"First of all, I... They're all idiots, right. None of them knew what they were talking about, and I told them so." She did not reply, and Theo went on, "The first night of the holidays, my grandfather had invited people for dinner. The Carrows — Flora and Hestia and their brothers and parents — Lord and Lady Avery and their eldest, and Lord and Lady Parkinson, and their boys. It was Cecil that started it. I didn't want to tell you because I didn't want to make your situation more difficult, and then I — I was keeping my distance from all of you, really, because I didn't want to complicate things for you."
But she could hardly even hear his last words over the ringing in her ears, the insatiable fear that clenched her, that she wasn't good enough, that without even doing anything she was the subject of ridicule and scorn. And not even behind closed doors, among one family or couple, not even restricted to lords, but among anyone. People who had held one conversation with her in their lives saw fit to condemn her, to judge her, while sitting with their own circles, with their own families, at peace and safe and alive and stable—
"I should have said something, I know, I just..."
"Theo, I don't care, what did they say about me?"
"Cecil Parkinson just said some nonsense, really I think he just had a bruised ego because you rejected him... He called you stand-offish."
"Well. I've been called worse."
Yet she knew there was more, knew that there had to be, for Theo to be giving her that wary look, like he was terrified that whatever he was going to say would hurt her. "And then Lucia Carrow chimed in. She... Said some things about your mother which I won't repeat exactly, that she... Wasn't a pureblood."
"My mother was muggleborn." Somehow, it didn't feel as terrifying to admit to Theo, though perhaps that was because he already knew. And Aurora could hardly remember if she had ever said it in those words, so explicitly, if she had ever trusted herself to. Even to Draco and Pansy, who technically knew, she had never been able to admit it, to confirm it, some part of her mind always fighting against the confession.
But telling Theo was a weight, lifted from her. Even if Skeeter had already told the world, it felt like a reclamation to say it herself. And seeing nothing change in his eyes — neither pity nor scorn — made her want to weep with relief.
"Right. Well, I wasn't sure — I said it didn't matter regardless. Because it doesn't." She found herself fighting a relieved smile. "They didn't see it that way. Cecil said you weren't appropriately elegant or mannered or some such — but really, it was all spite, Aurora. He said those things because they were an indictment, not because he actually thought them, because anyone who knows you knows... Knows..." He blinked, stopping himself. Aurora's lip trembled. "Well, that you're nothing short of perfectly respectable, and intensely capable." A dry laugh. "There were more things in that vein, I — but the conversation moved on."
She knew there was more still that he was not telling her. "Don't spare my feelings," she told him, "I'd much rather know what people are saying about me behind my back than to be caught unawares for the sake of whatever you consider my nerves to be."
"I know," Theo said softly, but he looked deeply uncomfortable. "They... Basically insinuated that because you'd gone to the ball with Warrington, that somehow meant you... Didn't have as many prospects." She let out an outraged scoff and Theo winced. "And that you..." He opened and closed his mouth silently as though trying to work out how to phrase something ludicrous. "Wouldn't be suitable if you... Kept going out with people."
"That — they — am I being slut-shamed for having dated one person?"
He winced. "Again, they're all talking out their arses, this is why I didn't want to say anything—"
"And they're saying this among themselves? In their social circles, to their friends — does everyone have an opinion of me that I'm not aware of? Does everyone think I'm undeserving of my title?"
"No, of course not — I don't, and I told them as much, and Lady Parkinson did too, she said Rosebelle thinks highly of you but — some people are awful. People like Cecil..." His jaw clenched. "I can't stand him."
She still found it hard to breathe, to really look at him, considering all of this. Part of her wished it came as more of a surprise than it did. "They hate me." It was no real revelation. "They smile at me and try to negotiate with me and keep me as entertainment and all the while, they fucking despise me, don't they? Because I'm fair game for insults. Cecil Parkinson dances with me and makes me suffer through his boasting all so that he can say he danced with a Lady and when I reject him he has every reason in the world to fall back on as to why I was the one who was never good enough for him. Never good enough for any of them."
"Aurora—"
"These people'll drag me down any chance they get, because I'm not on their side, I'm not pliable, I'm not the girl that they think I ought to be?"
She was hardly aware of the words that she was saying now; her mind was running away with her, pulled in a hundred different directions and fraying as it had been for the last year, a rope being stretched too far, cutting over a rock ledge. Her breath came in sharp bursts as the words ran out of her. "I can't deal with this — they all hate me and no matter what I do — and they sit there and they talk and talk and I have tried, I've tried to be perfect, and I can't be, and once, just once I try to be ordinary, to simply allow myself to be happy and I screw that up anyway and they — Merlin, I've got too much to fucking deal with this right now!"
Warm hands caught her own as she slid down the wall behind her. Theo came with her, the two of them sitting opposite one another on the dusty floor, trying to catch their breath. "I'm sorry," Theo said, "I shouldn't have said anything—"
"No," she cut him off, trying to push back the tears that bit at her eyes, "I'm glad you did, that's why I asked. It's just — I mean, I really should have seen this coming, shouldn't I?" Her voice rose again, shrill, and she curled her knees to her chest. "Of course I'm not enough. I'm never enough because I've been the wrong sort from birth. And do you know what?" She looked up at him through the tears and vile pain. "Fuck them. All of them, the lords and their families and Skeeter and all of them! I don't want them to like me, if they'll only like me for a lie. I'll never agree with them and they'll never accept me as a human being, so fuck them."
Theo let out a startled laugh. "No, really, I mean it. Merlin, they're — I have so many bigger things to worry about, don't I? At least now I know! Thanks to you at least I know the truth, that even without my doing anything more scandalous than attending a dance with someone — someone of perfectly good repute, may I add — I am gossiped about and defiled and insulted."
"Are you..." Theo tilted his head, eyes lit in confusion, but also some strange kind of hope. "Not upset?"
She laughed shrilly. "Of course I'm upset, Theo! But Merlin, I've been upset for the last year! I've been upset all my life, and I — I can't anymore! I can't keep acting like I'm part of a circle that will always deny me and I can't keep pretending that I want to be, because I don't! I don't want to be a part of something that is so — so filled with hate and bile! That's not who I am, that's not who I want to be!
"I'm Lady Black." She felt something resolve in her as she held Theo's hands in that dark passage, as she felt her every thought and grievance and withheld emotion pour out of her. "I'm Aurora. That's good enough for who I want to be."
His gaze was wary, but he nodded. "I think Aurora's pretty brilliant, personally."
She snorted. "It's so crap. It's nonsense. But I — it's been coming for a while, I guess? Your grandfather warned me last summer and I didn't listen but—"
"Wait, what?" Theo stared at her, eyes wide. "What did my grandfather say to you?"
Looking back at him, she considered. Of course, he didn't know. Of course, he was unaware of what exactly had been said and implied to her by the lords they both had to be surrounded with.
"He... He implied I was an unsuitable friend for you. Because of my blood status and various other things. He's a prat, I hope you don't mind my saying."
"Oh, no, I quite agree." There was a steely, angry going to Theo's eyes which he just managed to conceal. "Listen, I don't give a damn what he thinks. I'm not just saying that. He's an idiot and he's cruel and horrible, and, I know, he's not the only one. This is a much bigger issue for you. But I promise you, he doesn't represent everyone. He and Rosier and Travers and the like, they're not the majority. Skeeter just wants to stir up a story.
"You're my friend, and I stand by you. And Lady Parkinson defended you, she said Rosebelle thinks highly of you, despite the nonsense Cecil was spouting. And Pansy and Draco and Daphne and all the rest, we know who you really are. We all know you're brilliant. Anyone who's ever bothered to actually talk to you knows that."
His words put her at ease even with her earlier assertions that she didn't need others' opinions. "I know," she whispered. "I suppose. I just... This is too much."
"That's okay," Theo told her, "that happens sometimes. Believe me, no one thinks any less of you. And if they do, then, as you say." His lips twitched up in amusement and he lowered his voice, "Fuck them."
Despite herself, Aurora laughed, at the absurdity of it being Theo using such a word. "Thank you," she said. "I — I think we should get to Care of Magical Creatures, but... Walk with me?"
"Well," Theo said, amused, "I'm not sure how I couldn't considering we're going the same way."
"Yeah, but..." She shook her head as she got to her feet. "You know."
His eyes were light as he looked over at her, and stood up. "Sure. D'you want me to say anything to others for you — I mean, if you don't want to talk?"
"No," she said, shaking. "No, I — I need to handle my feelings myself. And talk to them, even if it's difficult. I know they only want to help and ... I can't keep continuing to push people away. Just sometimes I need — need a moment."
"I think that's fair," Theo agreed, with a faint smile. "If you ever need a moment with me — or one of my books..."
"Well, I would never dare take a moment with a book belonging to anyone else."
Theo grinned, as Aurora glanced out into the corridor and then swept the tapestry aside to lead him out with her. "You really should read that one, too. You'll like it. Covers a lot of similar content to Binns, but in a much more entertaining style."
"I'm sure I will," Aurora said, "so long as you're still enjoying magical geology?"
His eyes twinkled. "I always do. Aurora."
She grinned back, something settling inside her, and a new courage to face the rest of their peers.
When they got to the paddock where their Care of Magical Creatures class was being held, they were early. Only Hagrid was there, with Potter, Granger, and Weasley. Theo hung back, clearly hesitant, but Aurora forced herself to push on. She needed to talk to Potter, anyway. She had to see her father, and for that she needed a way to sneak out of school.
"Aurora," Hagrid said cheerfully when he caught sight of her and Theo. "Theodore. You two're down early. Alright?"
Aurora felt bile rise in her throat. She tried to ignore the three Gryffindors' curious gazes. "Quite well, thanks. Potter, might I have a word?"
His eyes widened, and she felt slightly bad about it. But only for a few seconds, for he nodded, and she led him away to a slightly quieter corner, where she said, "Do you think I could borrow your cloak?"
He stared at her and she felt her cheeks heat again. "You don't have to. I know it's really important to you and sentimental and it was your father's and that's alright, but — I really, really need to see my dad and I can sneak into Hogsmeade but I'll be spotted if I'm outside, and... I really need to see him. Just the two of us. I — I don't know if you saw—"
"The Prophet article?" Potter nodded grimly. "Hermione showed us. Skeeter's a right cow."
"I know. She always has been, it's... Well, you know, don't you? I just wanted to ask — I need to see my father." His eyes widened and she said hastily, "Alone. It's not anything personal, I just really need to see home on my own and be able to just talk to him, so I was wondering, would you... Lend me the cloak? Again, it's alright if you want to hang onto it, I know it belonged to your father, but... I'd really appreciate it?"
At first she thought he was going to say no, or perhaps he was merely so shocked by her asking. But to her surprise he said, with an unexpected calm, "You better be careful with it."
"Of course!"
"But I figure my dad would approve. Bring me something back from Honeydukes?"
"Did you miss the part where I'm trying not to be seen?"
"Well, it leads into the cellar."
"I'm not stealing! I will, however, get you one thing from their owl order next time I can?"
Potter grinned. "Deal."