They were awoken in the early hours of the morning. Cornelius Fudge had arrived in the night, it seemed, and when Aurora cracked her eyes open she could see Granger, Weasley, and her father all watching the door nervously. It was with a twinge of guilt that she felt annoyed that no one had come to visit her. Not Draco or Pansy, not Daphne or Millie or Theo or Gwen or Robin. Maybe they hadn't been allowed, she hoped.
"Dad?" she whispered into the quiet, flexing her fingers where he still held her hand.
"Sh, sweetheart," he told her, reaching his other hand to smooth down her hair and brush his knuckles gently over her cheek. "Get back to sleep."
She ignored him, struggling to sit up. Pain surged across her shoulder again, but she gritted her teeth and ignored it. Seeking resigned, her father helped her, holding her back as she tried to get comfortable. "What's going on?"
"We don't know," Hermione Granger whispered with an anxious glance at Potter, who was still asleep. Lucky him, Aurora thought bitterly. "Fudge is here. He and Moody are shouting."
The sounds of running footsteps grew louder, though Aurora's ear were still filled with a sort of buzzing sound. "Never should have taken it into your own hands, Alastor!" Fudge was yelling, voice just discernible. Potter stirred on the bed opposite. "How no one noticed — he is clearly not in his right mind! You should have left him to me, I am Minister of Magic!"
"And I'm a bloody Auror!"
"Ex-Auror!" Fudge's voice rang shrilly.
The door to Madam Pomfrey's office opened and she stormed out, looking furious. "What's all this screaming and yelling?" she asked, eyes alighting on Aurora. "You should be sleeping, Black! All of you should be!"
"It's rather difficult right now," Aurora drawled, and her father sent her a warning look.
"Still a ruddy better Auror than a wet blanket like yourself!"
"How dare you—"
Someone said Moody's name and the commotion and yelling died down. Too late — Potter was already stirring, trying to sit up even as Madam Pomfrey tutted and tried to ease him to sit down again.
Seconds later, Professor Moody stormed through the doors of the Hospital Wing, followed by a rather furious Cornelius Fudge and Professor Dumbledore. On a stretcher behind them floated the still limp body of Barty Crouch, and Aurora felt her stomach twist. He had said he would revive him. He didn't look revived.
Madam Pomfrey let out a thin breath and hurried to relieve the stretcher, helping Barty Crouch onto a bed at the far end of the ward.
"Professor Dumbledore," her father said, flatly ignoring the seething Cornelius Fudge. "What's going on?"
"Cornelius has just arrived from the Ministry," he said. "He saw fit to ensure that the Triwizard Tournament celebrations were not ruined by his intrusions."
Celebrations, Aurora thought dimly. It was strange to think people were celebrating, most with no idea of what had happened that night. The thought jarred her and she turned to Dumbledore sharply.
"Your housemates have been informed of your stay in the wing, Miss Black," he said, as though reading her mind. "I am sure you will have visitors in the morning."
"I hardly thought it necessary to disrupt Mr Diggory's success," Fudge said, "not for such an outlandish story. Though it does appear that I should have arrive much earlier, for the sake of Mr Crouch."
"He'll survive," Moody grunted, but it sent a tremor of fear through Aurora. What if he didn't? If he had been under the Imperius, it wasn't his fault, the duel. She would hardly call him innocent, but she hadn't wanted to kill him. She didn't want his blood on her hands, and she especially didn't want it to be known.
"Professor Moody," Fudge said, the emphasis on Professor not going amiss, as his lip curled in dislike, "saw fit to take care of Barty Crouch himself. He tells me that you, Lady Black, had an altercation."
Her mouth went dry. How much did he know?
"I dealt the last blow," Moody said, looking straight at her, like he was telling her to play along. "But he'll make it. He was a threat."
Fudge pursed his lips. "Be that as it may, the Ministry must uphold justice and you—"
"Justice," Moody snorted. "Why don't we ask Potter what he thinks of Crouch?"
Potter, who had been unusually quiet since he had woken, startled. "I — which one?"
Moody jerked his head. "Senior. Though from what I hear, his son's out loose too."
"Preposterous," Fudge said immediately, before Potter could even get a word in. "Barty Crouch's son died twelve years ago, in Azkaban! There is no evidence to suggest he's still alive."
"I believe it would be prudent to wait until Barty Crouch awakens to decide that, Minister," Dumbledore said quietly.
"Crouch has been trying to get me alone for months," Potter said, face pale, as he looked between the three men. "He's — every task, he's tried to talk to me. I thought something was wrong but, he never did anything..." His brow furrowed. "Not that I could be sure of."
"Barty has been unwell, but that is no reason to suggest that he has been involved in some — some plot, to resurrect He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named!"
"But he was!" Potter insisted. "I don't know if he wanted to be, but his son was there, he's alive, Minister, he kidnapped me and he — he killed — killed Karkaroff."
Fudge looked for a second like he had to struggle not to believe Potter. Aurora wondered if he had seen Karkaroff yet, because surely he could not dismiss that. No, he must not have seen him, he must not have had everything explained to him yet.
"Mr Potter," he said at last, drawing himself upright, "I do not know what you think you are playing at. He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named cannot have risen again. Dumbledore, surely you cannot believe this! On the word of one boy!"
Dumbledore's gaze was calculating, but not cold. "I certainly trust Harry," he said eventually, which didn't seem to appease Potter. "I see no reason why he might lie. We shall have a confession from Barty soon. Surely he can shed some light on the situation."
As if on cue, there was a slight cough from the other end of the Hospital Wing. Everyone turned, and Dumbledore made to head there immediately, but Madam Pomfrey shooed him off sternly. "Do not disturb my patient!" she insisted, while Fudge disregarded her completely and hurried over.
"Barty," he said, voice unsteady, "old friend."
Crouch did not move, but Aurora swore she could see his eyelids flutter.
"I'm telling the truth," Potter insisted, looking between Dumbledore and Sirius, then over to Fudge and Crouch. "That's what happened, I know it doesn't look like it, but he's back! You have to do something!"
"I believe you, Harry," Dumbledore said, and Aurora's father murmured the same.
"But the Minister..."
"Barty," he was saying, much to Madam Pomfrey's annoyance. Crouch stirred, then bolted upright.
"Where am I?" he asked sharply, looking around with wild eyes.
"You're in the Hospital Wing at Hogwarts, Barty," Fudge said.
"Minister, if you will move aside, I must check on my patient—"
"I need to question him."
"You shall not interrogate somebody in my ward! I have told you this before!"
"I am the Minister of Magic!" Fudge said sharply, and Madam Pomfrey glowered at him.
"I would not care if you were emperor of the universe, this is my patient and if he has truly been under the Imperius Curse for any period of time—"
"Barty," Crouch said in a hoarse voice. Cold trickled up Aurora's spine.
"What's that? That's your name."
"No." He shook his head. "No, no. He — he left. Where did he..."
"You are in shock, Mr Crouch," Pomfrey said, voice dropping so that Aurora could not hear what was said next. Curtains were drawn around his bed, but Dumbledore disappeared behind them with Fudge.
She could hear no more — supposedly, Silencing Charms had been cast. Weasley and Granger looked nervously at Potter, like he was a dormant hex. Aurora didn't think they needed to worry — Potter seemed angry, but he also appeared more likely to collapse in exhaustion than anything else.
As for herself, she wasn't sure she could even bring herself to try and get back to sleep. Another dose of Dreamless Sleep so soon would not be recommended, but seeing Crouch's face had brought back the memory of the curselight. She wanted her friends there — Gwen, specifically. Gwen, who had no tie to this, who would support and help her without complication. Gwen, who knew where everything in their room was located, and who could bring her the perfect book to read and give her the jewellery and trinkets she needed desperately to hold onto.
Her usual family ring rested on her left hand but she needed more, she needed the other one. The cursed ring, because for all it disconcerted her, it felt like it might hold an answer now. There was no rationale for this feeling of Aurora's, but she clung to it, needing something to tide her over until she could research that curse properly. It occurred to her, too, that she would have to ask Dumbledore about it. She didn't like that, didn't like that he knew more about her situation than she did. That knowledge should never have been his to keep, even if he had had such limited time to truly discuss it with her father.
"Harry," Granger was saying across from her, voice tentative. "If you don't mind my asking... What did happen?"
Potter opened his mouth but nothing came out. "Dumbledore said not to question him," Aurora's father bristled. "He's been through enough, and he's got the bloody Minister to contend with."
Even in the dim light, Aurora could see Granger's startled look and flushed cheeks. "Sorry. I just — just wanted to ask. Is he really back?"
Potter stared at her, seeming to struggle for words.
"That is what he said, isn't it, Granger?" Aurora said coolly, arching her brows. Weasley glared at her.
"Don't tell me you don't believe me," Potter said, and Granger shook her head furiously, eyes widening.
"No! No, of course I believe you, Harry!"
He still didn't look pleased. "You should get some sleep, mate," Weasley said, "before they all come over again."
"Can't," Potter said, eyes still trained on the curtains around Crouch's hospital bed. There came from Crouch a strangled yell, and Aurora tensed.
It seemed like a very long time passed in the stifling silence before Dumbledore strode out from behind the curtains, Fudge mumbling along behind him.
"Clearly distressed," he muttered, wringing his hands, "doesn't know what he's saying... so dreadfully unwell..." Aurora and Potter exchanged glances. Dumbledore caught the action with a curious look. "Imperius curse... addles the mind... memory..."
Aurora did not speak, but Potter and his friends, and Aurora's father, all watched Fudge attentively as he came to a halt before their beds. "The testimony is — is faulty."
"Barty Crouch has confessed to having assisted his son in escaping Azkaban. And to his disappearance. He claims to have been under the Imperius Curse."
"Clear as day," Moody barked.
"He says... Well, but he cannot know."
"Barty has told us that Lord Voldemort placed the Imperius Curse upon him," Dumbledore said, and Fudge shivered at the name. Aurora clenched her hands in her bedsheets.
"He may believe it to be so," Fudge said, "but until we are certain, we cannot take it for granted. Barty has always been very distressed by the actions of You-Know-Who and his followers, everybody knows he never really got over it... And it is — it is impossible that You-Know-Who has risen again."
In truth, Aurora was not sure why she believed Potter so wholeheartedly. It was not an especially believable tale. If she had not noted his disappearance, had not seen his sudden reappearance on the map, she would have had no idea. If Crouch had not attacked her, she would not have imagined there was anything amiss. No one but Potter could bear witness to what had truly happened.
But she knew that he would not lie about such a thing. Perhaps a year ago she would have been inclined to turn away from what he said, but she realised rather startlingly that she knew better now.
"He needs St. Mungo's," Fudge said, wringing his hands. "I am sure he is not in his right mind."
"But it's true," Potter said. "I mean, if he attacked Aurora, he didn't do it by himself, if he — he wanted me! And Voldemort is back, I saw him! He killed Karkaroff!"
"Yes, well." Fudge shifted awkwardly. "I'm sure we will find out more, once the body has been... Seen to."
"People don't just die!" Potter shouted, incredulous.
"I am sure there was some... Terrible accident, a byproduct of whatever happened in the maze tonight. These things happen, and if Crouch was involved well... We may never know."
"But we do know," Potter said starkly. "I watched it happen I — I saw him die and he was trying to save me and—"
He broke off, choking over his own words. Silently, Aurora's father moved to hold him, and Aurora was relieved to see that it calmed Potter, just slightly.
"Cornelius," Dumbledore said softly, "I think perhaps it is best for us to go now. If you wish to speak to Harry further, you can do so at another time. If you'll come with me, we must discuss how to deal with Igor Karkaroff..."
A small, incredulous smile crossed Fudge's face. It was the wrong thing to say, even if Dumbledore believed himself to be protecting Potter. Fudge was already disbelieving — if he did not get a statement, if he let Dumbledore speak to Potter before he was questioned, that would be an obvious issue, because he could be influenced, to his perspective anyway. "You are prepared to take Harry's word on this, are you, Dumbledore?"
Her father tensed, furiously. "Certainly," Dumbledore said, after a beat of silence. "I have heard Mr Crouch's claims to the Imperius Curse, and Harry's account of what happened earlier this evening. That, with the clear statements from Miss Granger, Mr Weasley, and Lady Black, fills in much of the details. I believe Harry is telling the truth — I see no reason to believe otherwise. Once you see Igor Karkaroff, you will understand."
Fudge was still smiling in that odd, horrid way. "And you are prepared to believe that Lord Voldemort has returned on that — and the death of a man who has had many targets on his back for many years — and the word of a boy who, well..."
He paused a beat, and Potter frowned. "You've been reading Rita Skeeter, Mr Fudge."
"And if I have?" Fudge retorted, slightly red. "There's a lot you've been keeping from us. A Parselmouth... all these funny turns..."
And of course if Fudge believed Skeeter about Potter, he might believe Skeeter about Aurora, too. Another account to discredit.
"Listen to me, Cornelius," Dumbledore was saying now. "Harry is as sane as you or I. The scar upon his forehead has not addled his brain. I believe his scar hurts him when Voldemort is nearby, or feeling particularly murderous."
Just like that night in the summer, Aurora thought, with a sickening lurch. All of this had been building and building and they had been powerless to stop it. Perhaps they should have done more — the future stretched out before her and she imagined it twisting from the path she had once envisioned. Everything was going to change, again.
"Look!" Potter shouted, making to get out of bed, though Aurora's father pushed him back gently. "I saw Voldemort come back! I saw the Death Eaters! I can give you their names!"
No, Aurora thought quietly, closing her eyes. No, she didn't want to hear this, not again.
"Lucius Malfoy—"
"Malfoy was cleared! From an old family, donates generously to good causes—"
"MacNair!"
"Also cleared! Now working for the Ministry!"
"Avery!" Aurora wished she could tell him to stop. Fudge was never going to believe him, he was only giving him ammunition, infuriating him further. "Nott!" She winced at the thought of Theodore. "Crabbe! Goyle!"
"You are merely repeating the names of those who were accused thirteen years ago!"
Aurora leaned back, sighing, and closed her eyes to try and block out Fudge's blustering. No one would be able to get through to him in this state, she realised. He was so furious, so disbelieving. Barty Crouch needed to be taken to St. Mungo's, needed to be declared sane so that his testimony would at least count for something. She did not like the man, not one bit, but at least she thought he would take this seriously.
Dumbledore was insistent, trying to tell Fudge what to do, but it was not working and she didn't understand how Dumbledore didn't realise that of course Fudge wasn't going to listen, when he was clearly scared of shaking things up and losing his power and control, that of course he didn't want to be dictated to by the Headmaster of his old school.
It was no surprise when Fudge stormed out, with one final plea that Voldemort just couldn't be back, and two demands — the first, that Crouch be moved out of Hogwarts and into St. Mungo's, the second, that Professor Moody should be let go immediately. Apparently, he was a danger around children.
Aurora felt too sick to say that she had been the one to stun Crouch. "No loss," Moody grunted, almost as if to reassure her. "Woulda done it myself anyway. And I was meant to be out of here in a week anyway."
It didn't ease her conscience much, but at least Crouch was alive. She wasn't a murderer.
After Fudge had left, and Madam Pomfrey gone to her office, Dumbledore placed a Silencing Charm around them all and spoke in low tones. "There is work to be done," he said. "If Cornelius will not step up to fight, someone else must. Sirius — you are in touch with Remus Lupin?" Her father nodded. "Good. Get a message to him. Say the old group must reform. Stay with Aurora and Harry for now, if you must, but tomorrow." Her father nodded. "Ronald?" Weasley gave a start. "What does your father think of Cornelius Fudge?"
"I — well — I wouldn't say he likes him," Weasley said, rather taken aback. "Fudge doesn't think Muggles are very important to study."
"I must get a message to himself and your mother too, as soon as possible. They might come to the castle — I am sure Molly would be eager to ensure Harry is alright."
Weasley blinked. "Well, yeah, I guess."
Dumbledore nodded musingly. His gaze fell on Aurora for a strange moment, eyes glimmering with slow calculation, before he nodded. "We must convince all those who are open to believing the truth, as soon as possible. Alastor — would you get word out to the old crowd when you leave this morning. Mundungus Fletcher, Arabella Figg, Emmelime Vance. Lie low for a while."
Moody nodded and gave a funny sort of stamping motion, like he was preparing to salute a general. "I've a few Aurors in mind," he said, and this time his eyes flicked to Aurora too.
She knew already what Dora would say, even if she didn't like it. "Good," Dumbledore said. "Go."
Moody gave that funny nod again and stomped out of the Hospital Wing, so that it was only the six of them left. "I must speak with my staff," he said after a moment. "Minerva and Severus, and I must make arrangements for the Durmstrang students to return without their Headmaster. This news will be..." He trailed off. "For now, I must catch up to Cornelius. He cannot be allowed to ignore the facts before him, nor to ignore Igor's death. I will address the school tomorrow morning."
Aurora knew already that she did not want to be anywhere but here when that happened. The thought of what Draco might do, how he would react. And the rest.
She barely managed to smile when Dumbledore swept from the room, lifting the Silencing Charm as he did so. She eyed the bed where Crouch lay — just how long had he been like this for? It seemed awful, distorted, to her, that the man who had sent her own father to the Dementors without so much as a trial after the war, could let his son escape to commit such an act.
But it was, most unfortunately, not entirely surprising.
"Drink the rest of your potion," her father told Potter gently. "And you two — Hermione, Ron — you ought to sleep, too. Harry will be fine. Aurora..." He looked over to her fondly. "Would you like more potion?"
She shook her head. "No." She didn't know what she wanted. In truth, she wanted her own bed in the dungeons, her cat curled up at the end of it, Gwen snoring gently across from her. But she also wanted to stay with her father. "I'm sure I can sleep without it."
"Yes, but you've just—"
"I'll be fine," she lied, and her father sighed.
"I'll have Pomfrey bring some in case you change your mind." He glanced back at Potter. "I'll be right here though, until you wake up. Alright?"
They both nodded, and Aurora turned on her side, feeling heaviness deep into her bones. Her sleep was fragmented, haunted by green light running through the darkness of her vision, phantom pains racing through her.
At least, she thought as she woke up, panting, just as the first of the sun's rays slanted through the wing's windows, she knew now what it was. She knew what she was facing, what her body and her magic had been fighting for so many years.
Let Bellatrix Lestrange come for her, she thought bitterly.
If there was anyone she was going to kill, it was going to be her.
-*
Aurora felt exhaustion all the way to the bone when she woke again in the morning. Sometime without her knowing, Barty Crouch had been moved — presumably to St. Mungo's — and Granger and Weasley had been moved into different chairs, where both were now curled up asleep. Her father was the only one who was in the same position as he had been the night before, and Aurora squeezed his hand tightly as she stirred.
He looked over, eyes bright. "How do you feel?"
"Shit," she said honestly. "Mostly aching though. It'll be alright."
"Take it easy," he told her. "It's almost nine o'clock."
"Right," she said. Everyone would be at breakfast by now, and Dumbledore would be telling them what had happened. "I'm sure I can handle a sore arm."
He frowned at her. "Whatever you can handle," he said, "Madam Pomfrey insists she take a look at it before you go anywhere."
Scowling, Aurora rested back. "I'm perfectly fine."
He just shook his head ruefully. "Just stay here, at least until she comes out. I'm the one she'll go daft at."
"I wasn't going to run off," she grumbled, but did as she was told anyway, grimacing as Potter and his friends all stirred.
She knew most of the school would be in the Great Hall right now, but she dreaded the thought of returning to the Slytherin Common Room. Perhaps she could pretend that it never happened. Gloss over it, pretend her shoulder was fine and she wasn't bothered by anything. It wouldn't make it go away, but reality would take time to set in, time she needed to decide what to do. Another war would mean society split, her own friendship and circle broken apart. Regardless of her friend's views, their families would have to come first.
She didn't know where that would put her, even with Draco.
They all ate breakfast in a rather muddied silence. Potter was quiet, barely paying attention to anything anyone said to him, not that Aurora could blame him. Once Madam Pomfrey gave her the all clear, Aurora let her father walk her out of the wing, glad to be free of the stifling atmosphere, though he would return to stay with Potter for the rest of the day. She just needed to be somewhere that wasn't here. And she knew she had to deal with the common room sooner, rather than later.
"Who do you want to pick you up from the train?" he asked quietly, as she let him lead her the longest route to the dungeons. "I know Andromeda would like to see you as soon as possible, but I'll be there too, if you want me to."
"I know you don't want to be in public too much—"
"I want to know what you want," he said sternly, before she could deflect. "If you want me there, I'll be there. I'll see you the first day you're back anyway." He put a hand comfortingly on her shoulder. Uncertainty swam in his eyes, before he gave a sharp sort of nod.
"Be there," she said quietly, not meeting his eyes. She didn't want to admit that she wanted him there, that she was startled and uncertain and wanted him to reassure her. Because she told herself that she shouldn't want those things, even now — perhaps especially now. "If you want to."
He seemed to take that to mean that she wanted him, and nodded. "We'll talk about that curse," he told her. "I — if that's what you want. Between us, and maybe Dumbledore, we can find out something, surely. Something to help."
Gratitude trickled through her and she nodded, giving a brief half-smile. "Thank you. I'm sure there will be more I can learn."
His answering smile was sad, as they descended to the ground floor, heading towards the steps that would take her to the dungeons. "I so wish that there wasn't." The castle was quiet, but Aurora dreaded crossing the threshold of her common room, knowing that everything was going to change. "I think Dumbledore may want to speak to you soon. And you know that, this summer, if we..." He lowered his voice, casting wary glances at the portraits around them. "If he calls people to fight, I will fight."
"I wouldn't expect any less," she said, even if privately she wished that he would stay out of any fighting that was to come. It wasn't her place to dictate that and she knew that if she tried, he would resent her greatly for it. She glanced towards the shadowy steps down to the common room, uneasy. "I'll see you at the end of term," Aurora told her father quietly. "I'll write to you, too. See if there's anything I can do."
"Would you keep an eye on Harry?" he asked. "Neither of you like to tell me when you're upset, but he needs someone to know."
She nodded. "I will. As much as I can, anyway." She had to think of herself too.
Aurora smiled halfheartedly and when they paused at the top of the stairs, she hugged her father quickly before stepping away. Surprise flickered on his face that she had been the one to initiate the embrace, but it turned quickly to a smile. "And tell Madam Pomfrey immediately if anything flares up or hurts."
"I will."
He gave her a stern, doubtful look. "See to it that you do." Her father kissed her gently on the forehead then retreated. "I love you, sweetheart. Please write."
Aurora nodded, and before she could talk herself out of it, or into a ring of anxiety, she hurried down the stairs to the dungeons. Her father's footsteps retreated above her as she hurried along, letting herself into the Slytherin Common Room door.
A palpable tension hung in the air. People were knotted into their own small groups, whispering in hushed tones. They glanced up at her entrance, and though most didn't seem to care much, entranced by their own gossip rather than whatever she had gotten herself into — Aurora really wished she knew how much Professor Dumbledore had revealed — she could see Draco and Pansy both staring at her, questioning gazes locked onto her. Theodore, with them, bit his lip and looked at her in worry, caught between sitting and standing to come and find her, while Lucille avoided her gaze, and Vincent and Greg stared at the ground.
It felt, all of a sudden, like a line had been drawn — a line she had never wanted to imagine. Holding her head higher, she looked across the common room to Cassius Warrington, whose gaze was worried, and the expression warmed her slightly, reassuring. Near him, sat Gwen and Robin, with Leah MacMillan, Sally-Anne Perks, and Jones and Stebbins.
To her surprise, when Gwen and Robin came after her to her dormitory, Leah joined them, and Apollo Jones hung awkwardly in the doorway, staring.
"Aurora," Gwen said, hurrying to her side. "What the fuck happened?"
"Language, Gwen," she admonished, but it was half-hearted. "And I don't know the answers to the questions you want to answer. I'm fine."
"And Harry Potter?" Leah asked, eyes wide. "Dumbledore said he was kidnapped? And saw You-Know-Who come back?"
Robin scoffed. "He can't have."
"He says he did," Aurora said slowly, afraid to look at them. "Barty Crouch attacked me, under the Imperius Curse. I'm fine," she repeated at Gwen and Robin's faint noises of concern. "Now anyway. My shoulder hurts, but that's it. It all points to the Dark Lord but there's no... Conclusive evidence, as of yet. I think I..."
She daren't speak it.
"You believe it?" Apollo Jones asked, eyebrows raised, and this was when she frowned at him, caught halfway to a glare.
"I don't know, Jones. What are you doing here?"
He shrugged. "Figured Aunt Hestia would say to see if you're alright."
She pursed her lips, the connection having evaded her for a minute. "Well, I am alright. But I still don't know what happened. Dumbledore heard Crouch's account. Whatever he told you, is likely more accurate than anything I could." How she hated saying those words, admitting that.
"But if he's back," Gwen said, with a furtive look at the door, as though checking there was no one listening in. "What does that mean?"
"It means it'll be like last time," Leah said, with a furious look on her face, which was considerably paler than usual. "My dad — bloody hell." She winced. "I have to write to him. Does Fudge know? He must. They'll call the Minister's Council, won't they? And the Assembly?"
Aurora shrugged, somewhat bitter. "Fudge doesn't seem to feel any need to act right now. He is skeptical. If he wants to call the Assembly, he hasn't told me, and he won't want to tell Potter."
"Of course he's skeptical," Robin said, rolling his eyes, and they all turned to him. "Listen, even You-Know-Who can't just come back to life, right? Who's to say Potter even was kidnapped?"
"Maybe," Apollo said, "but Dumbledore said Karkaroff's dead. He can't lie about that, and he can't just die! Obviously something happened."
"It doesn't mean he's back. It could just be random Death Eaters. He gave loads of names, didn't he? Mum told me about him."
"Yeah, right," Leah said, "Lucius Malfoy's friends with him, they wouldn't just hunt him down." Her eyes cut sharply to Aurora, as though daring her to refute any involvement on Lucius's part, but she stayed quiet. There was nothing she could say now, nothing that she felt would be at all useful to them or to her.
The room lapsed into silence, and Gwen came to sit by Aurora's side, putting an arm around her shoulders. "I'm fine," she grumbled. "Please can you all stop staring at me?"
Apollo pressed his lips together and nodded. "I'll uh... See you later, Black."
She nodded back, letting him go, and he sidled awkwardly out of the room. Leah gave her a strange, short look and a brisk nod before doing the same. They would speak later, Aurora supposed. The MacMillans might be useful.
When it was just the three of them, Robin closed the door and sat down on Gwen's bed, across from the two girls.
Aurora didn't know what to say, until she turned to Gwen and managed to muster some words for her. "If the Dark Lord has returned," she said, "you need to know what we could be dealing with."
Robin nodded his agreement. "I can't believe it," he said, "it sounds ridiculous."
"Well, even if it is ridiculous, the fact it's a possibility is disturbing enough. Especially after the World Cup."
Abashed, Robin nodded and ducked his head. "Just saying, just because Dumbledore says something doesn't mean it's true."
"I know," Aurora admitted, "I doubt I would believe it either. But Potter has spoken of things before, of visions—" Robin scoffed "—and as unbelievable and strange as they are, they seem to add up. I wouldn't believe such a thing on Dumbledore's words alone, either. But I saw him reappear on the map, I realised he was missing. Crouch most certainly attacked me, and he confessed. It all adds up to a rather horrible result. As for Gwen." She took in a deep breath. "You know my mother was muggleborn, don't you?"
Gwen nodded, but Robin let out a laugh. "You know I've been trying to figure out if it's true for ages."
"It isn't something I just bandy about, Oliphant."
"I know, I didn't expect you to actually admit—"
"Robin," Gwen muttered, "shut up."
His cheeks flamed as both girls turned hard glares towards him. "Yeah, okay. Gwen."
"Last time — well, my father doesn't speak of it often. But Muggleborns were targeted. The Dark Lord's followers did things to them even worse than at the cup. They murdered..." She swallowed, the words sticking in her throat, whether at the admission of her blood status, or at the thought, she wasn't sure. "They murdered my mother's entire family. Two younger siblings were a witch and wizard too, the rest Muggles. The night after my mother was murdered. They burned them all alive, and their Muggle neighbours with them." Gwen stared, horrified. "My mother was — well, she fought. Made herself known. Not all will be subject to the same treatment, but you need to know.
"I don't know what he plans."
"If he's back," Robin interrupted.
"Of course, if. If he is back, his followers may gain the confidence to crawl back out of the woodwork. Even the anti-werewolf legislation last year, that was a step in that same direction, the loathing for creatures of lower blood status. Many of the proposals from that piece of legislation were similar to that from anti-muggleborn bills introduced a few decades ago. Banning them from employment in specific fields, requiring them to disclose their status and personal details beyond that which a pureblood would be required to for the same occupation. I do not know if the same will happen. Some wanted it to be a requirement that muggleborns prove their magic was not stolen, something impossible to prove as no one can prove where their magic comes from."
Gwen was staring, growing more horrified by the second. "If the Dark Lord's followers bow to him once more, that all could be on the horizon. I don't want to scare you, Gwen."
"I need to know," Gwen said immediately. "I've heard some of the things people say, even if you pretend not to hear." She tried to ignore the needle of guilt that turned inside of her. "It's dangerous, isn't it? Even without him, once I get out of here, if there are people that could defend that, believe in that."
Aurora nodded. "Precisely."
Gwen swallowed, and Aurora moved her arm to sit around her friend's shoulders, holding her. "But I won't let them hurt you," she vowed, even knowing that she could not possibly guarantee anything.
Nodding, Gwen leaned against her. They breathed together in silence before Robin said, "You didn't hear what Malfoy said earlier."
She stiffened, going cold. "I don't want to hear what he said earlier," she told Robin, who shook his head.
"That's what I thought you'd say," he muttered.
Aurora could not bring herself to glare at him, only straightened up and sighed, combing back her hair. "Oliphant, would you leave us for a moment? I want to get out of these clothes."
Though he didn't look pleased, Robin nodded and got to his feet. "Come find me," he said to Gwen on his way out, then vanished.
A weight lifted from Aurora's chest. "I know you don't want to talk about it," Gwen said, "but I need to know what I'm dealing with. If I'm at all a target..."
"I'll tell you," Aurora promised. "Whatever you need to know about this. I'll see what I can do, to prepare, in case anything happens. Though I suspect he will lie low for a while. Build up his supporters — especially if Fudge turns a blind eye as he is insisting." She shook her head. He was so in Malfoy's pocket, so indebted and embroiled in corruption from so many old families. It was something she had taken advantage of before, but she knew it would render him ineffective. "Things won't all happen at once. For now the best we can do is keep our heads down."
Gwen snorted. "As if you're going to keep your head down."
"I am capable of such a thing."
"Never in a million years, Lady Black."
She withheld a smile. "Go find Oliphant," she told Gwen instead. "I really need a wash, and fresh clothes."
Gwen smiled faintly on her way out, but Aurora could tell it was forced. "See you in the common room?" She nodded — she would have to go there eventually.
But she took as long as she possible could to get changed, to hug her cat Stella and insist on feeding her treats. She wound her snake necklaces around her neck, ignoring their annoyed hissing about her apparently awful Duelling skills. That feedback, she decided, was best left to another day.
Then she went for the ring that lay in the bottom of the drawer. Its stone reflected the distorted light from beneath the lake, rippling with green, and she pressed back the cold feeling of foreboding that washed over her.
There was a knock at the door. Aurora jumped, heart pounding, and turned. "Who is it?"
"Theo." A beat of silence. "Is it alright if I come in? Gwen said you'd be out soon but I wanted to check..."
She sighed in relief. "Yes." She clasped the ring and it burned her palm. "Yes, come in then, Theo. I'm alright."
When he opened the door, he gave her a look to suggest he thought she was anything but alright. "I'm so sorry," he started, "I should have come with you—"
"It's not your fault," Aurora said, voice sharper than she had intended, but Theo seemed to dismiss this.
"Are you hurt? Snape said there was an altercation with Crouch?"
"Yes, he... He was under the Imperius Curse and tried to duel me. He caught my shoulder, but it's mostly alright now." For a second, the memory of the Transmogrify curse popped up in her mind, but she could not bring herself to mention it, not even to Theo. "I'm mostly tired. It seems a lot has happened in a night."
"Yes, it does seem that way."
With a note of surprise, Aurora realised Theo was still hovering at her doorway. "You can come in properly, you know," she told him, "don't worry about propriety or some such thing, I couldn't care less."
"Oh." His cheeks flushed as he edged further into the room, and Aurora bit back a faint smile of amusement as he shut the door gingerly behind him. "Right." He shook his head as he approached her, goin to lean against one of the bedposts. "So, what happened? If you don't mind, I understand if you don't want to, but... Everyone's saying different things. About our parents, about the Dark Lord — that's what Dumbledore told the school, that the Dark Lord returned and killed Karkaroff and tried to kill Harry Potter. He didn't mention much about Crouch, maybe he wasn't allowed, but, everyone's waiting to hear more."
Aurora nodded. "It's true. Potter went over it later; what happened while he was away and before we found him. Karkaroff's dead." Theo let out a low sigh. "Fudge doesn't seem to want to hear anything about it, especially after Potter mentioned names." Theo tensed, and though she wished she could spare him the knowledge, she knew that lying would not help the situation. "He said your grandfather was there. Presumably, it was a Nott, but..."
"My grandfather is the most likely candidate," Theo said dryly. He did not meet her eyes. "Well, that's fantastic."
"Theo, I'm so sorry."
He shrugged. "It's not a surprise. I should have seen this all coming, really, shouldn't I?"
Aurora shook her head, and sank down onto the edge of her bed. "I wish there was something I could say, Theo. I know you want to know what's going to happen, but I don't know. I don't know anything except that I'm scared, and I think the world is only going to get scarier."
"I know," he said, in a quiet voice. "Me, too."
She swallowed, and there was a lump in her throat which she could not quite rid herself of. "I, um, think you should know... Draco didn't seem very happy, about you going to help out Potter."
"Oh, sod it," she muttered. "He'll never be happy about anything concerning Potter. I'll talk to him, and sort it out."
"Right." Theo did not seem as convinced. "Well, either way, I think he and Pansy want to talk to you, and he seemed pretty worried. I just thought you should know he's, perhaps not going to take the same side, as you are?"
"I could have figured that out for myself, Theo." He bit his lip and she said, "Sorry."
"Everything's going to change," he said, looking just past her to the gloomy window onto the lake, "I can feel it. I guess we just need to be prepared."
She looked up at him, amused and surprised, eyebrows raised. "We?"
Theo glanced away, but then back at her and said, "Well, you can trust I'm not on my grandfather's side, can't you?"
And she found, despite her fears and uncertainties, that she really could. The world was going to change for everyone, she knew, and they all would have to find a new place within it.
-*
It was only after lunch that Aurora managed to speak to Draco and Pansy, without anyone else hanging around and listening in. Her apprehension about the new mood in the common room was only heightened by the presences of the likes of Vincent and Greg, Lucille and the Carrow sisters.
They found a quiet corner of the library, and Aurora put up silencing charms around them. Everyone was subdued despite the Hogwarts win the evening before, but there was a most noticeable absence of any Durmstrang students. When she was certain that no one could listen in, Aurora turned to her to best friends and felt a knot of worry stir inside of her.
It was Draco who spoke first.
"Were you with Potter?" he asked, as if that was the most concerning part — not that Aurora was entirely surprised.
"Yes, and no. I didn't leave the grounds," she said, trying to be delicate, "but I saw him when he returned."
"Right." Her two friends exchanged a look. They had already discussed this, she knew, and it was obvious now. "And you were in the Hospital Wing all night?"
"Yes." Aurora smoothed her skirt, nervous. "After I summoned my father. There was an... altercation with Barty Crouch."
Draco's eyes lit with recognition at the name. She wondered how much he might have been told, if their parents had gotten messages to them yet. Potter didn't know if the Parkinson there was Pansy's father, but even if she didn't dare say so to Potter, Aurora felt it was more than likely. "You're not hurt, are you?" Pansy said, and she grimaced.
"Only slightly. Stinging hex to the face. He also may have attempted to sever my arm from my shoulder." Pansy gasped. "Other than that, quite alright."
"But why?" Pansy asked. "What does he have to do with it?"
Draco snorted. "Don't be dim, Pans."
Pansy's face flushed. "I am not being dim, Draco, I'm asking a question."
"He was under an Imperius Curse," Aurora said quietly. "I got in the way of... Whatever he was trying to do."
Neither of them spoke, but exchanged that look again, a silent conversation which Aurora couldn't quite follow, and made uncertainty sink into her. "By... Him?"
"Dumbledore suspects so. I would not be surprised." She declined to mention Crouch's current condition, or where he had been moved to. Aurora wanted to trust her friends — told herself she did trust them — but she didn't want that information to fall into the wrong hands by a loosely worded letter. "I don't have the details of what happened to Potter. Other than what Dumbledore has presumably told the school."
Draco gave another derisive snort. "Yeah, and he made it pretty clear what he thinks. Reckons we should all come together and, what was it, Pans?"
"Unite for a better future," she said, shaking her head. "It's all rhetoric and drivel. He seems to think he has everyone in his pocket."
He did, Aurora thought, have most people in his pocket. But certain people would not fall in line regardless, and many fell on precisely the opposite side to him. It was obvious Dumbledore wanted to persuade his students to his own cause, but Aurora felt that was unlikely. Perhaps most especially for the Slytherins, the very people he needed to convert and convince, and the very people who felt most unappreciated and hated by the rest of his school.
"Regardless," she said quietly, "the facts of the events are likely there. I suspect you will get more information over the summer."
That brought a stifling silence down between them which made Aurora question why she had let herself say it in the first place. "We all will," she tried hastily to rectify.
But Draco was looking at her very oddly. "What will you do?"
"With regards to what?"
He shrugged. "Everything. I mean, he's back. He'll want the Black family on side, like he did last time. Everyone knows they — we — have powerful magic. My father — well, it's safer to seek him out, than to let him come to you."
Slowly, his words sank in alongside a cold feeling of shock. "If he's back," Pansy said, with a furtive look, while Aurora's heart pounded in her chest. "I haven't heard anything official."
The words barely registered to Aurora. She realised that Draco didn't know the full story of her infant years, of how her mother had died — very, very few did, and it was not a story she delighted in sharing, least of all to him — but the fact that he said that so plainly chilled her.
"Listen," Draco said, "all the lords are suspicious of you, you know that. They'll want you to pick a side; our side. You're Lady Black, still."
Yes, she thought, she was Lady Black. She was also born of a muggleborn, and the Dark Lord's own supporters had once conspired to kill her and that muggleborn mother.
"Maybe this isn't the best conversation to have right now," Pansy said, while Aurora tried to regain speech.
"I'm just saying, it's about time people did something to fix our society, and I know my father would be able to assist—"
"They won't want me," Aurora managed to say eventually. "Trust me, Draco."
"I know you're not technically pureblood, but you're different than the other half bloods. You were raised pureblood, you're Lady Black, my family likes you, I'm sure father would vouch for you and you'd be safer—"
"I've no interest in becoming a Death Eater."
"Well, not now, obviously, I wouldn't either." He shifted uncomfortably, realising finally Pansy's frantic and unsubtle signals to shut up. "I'm not trying to say you should. I know you think — well, I don't know what you think, I know you don't agree with my father — but, it could still benefit you. To just... At least appear to consider their side. Our side."
A cold smirk came across her face, forced to hide the terrified feeling his words gave her. "I am sure I can find benefits from other causes. And I am sure your father would not seek to give me any benefits."
Draco's face fell, as he seemed to try and recalculate. But Aurora couldn't even bring herself to tell him what it was he had done wrong, if he still couldn't see it, if he still chose to leave in naïveté and ignorance. While some form of contact with them would perhaps provide shelter from and information about Bellatrix Lestrange, it was hardly a safe call, and she couldn't abide the thought of serving the Dark Lord. They would kill her eventually.
False Lord, she recalled Arcturus and Lucretia once having called him. They would not want that either.
She raised her eyebrows at Draco, taking a deep breath to control herself. "Be careful this summer," she told them both, more to Pansy than to Draco. She was the one who was conflicted, after all, the one who had spent the last year uncertain of a future which had possibly been turned on its head yet again.
Aurora shook her head, feeling that most unwelcome of feelings, that she was out of her depth, not in control. This was not the time to have a single plan, and certainly not the time to divulge one.
Pansy looked most uneasy at this, folding her arms. After a moment, Draco stood, clearly rattled by the atmosphere. "Right. I'll, er, see you in the common room. Crabbe and Goyle won't know what to do without me."
Aurora thought this a rather unfair underestimation of the two boys, but she nodded as her cousin left. Once he was out of their eyeline, Pansy's face crumpled and she put a hand on Aurora's arm.
"I'm so sorry," she said, "I didn't know he was going to say that! How insensitive — after you were attacked! Does the shoulder still hurt?"
"It's fine, Pans," Aurora lied, in a soft voice. "Draco... Well, I'm sure he thought what he said made sense."
Pansy winced. "It was stupid to say. Of course you're not going to seek him out."
"Obviously."
"Draco's just..." She shrugged. "Well, I guess we'll see this summer. Once we all go home."
Aurora nodded, a lump in her throat. At this rate, she wasn't even sure if she would be able to see her best friends this summer, outside of the usual social engagements. Not if there were Death Eaters hanging about, not if her father was putting himself in danger.
She was not sure if she could bring herself to see them, either.