Aurora woke blearily the morning of September the first and, for perhaps the first time, dearly wished that she did not have to return to school for the year. No, it would be quite perfect to remain in this warm bed in this familiar house and not have to suffer anybody else's company. But that was not an option, particularly as she was so quickly and rudely reminded of Harry's presence across the hall when he dropped what sounded like it might very well be his trunk, onto the floor.

"Idiot," she muttered into her pillow, and rolled over. In the mirror on her bedside table, she could see clearly the pallor of her face and dark exhaustion smudged beneath her eyes. Her heart sank to see it, and she snatched her book of the table as she forced herself up, to get ready for the day and the year ahead and try to pretend that all was well.

Half an hour later, face suitably made up and hair tamed, she was the first child to meander into the kitchen dining room, where her father was busy dusting crepes with sugar and honey, and Molly Weasley fixing teas. She wrinkled her nose. "Is that healthy?"

"Nope," her father said cheerfully. "Take two."

Aurora sighed. "At least put some strawberries on it."

Molly Weasley gave an approving nod.

Her father's face fell into a frown as he did so, sliding the plate across to her. "Are you still upset about the prefectship?"

"No," she lied. "It's fine." He gave a questioning look and she elaborated, "I just had a bit of an interrupted sleep last night, Dad. I'm fine."

"Alright," he said slowly, not seeming to believe her. "Are you excited to get back to school, at least?"

She gave him a flat look and replied, "Over the moon."

His lips twitched in a small smile. "You'll be more optimistic after pancakes, guaranteed."

"Sure," she grumbled, but he had a point. As she finished her breakfast, she was a tad more cheerful, and would have been perfectly calm were it not for the fact that, of the other children, only Hermione had made it downstairs, and it was approaching half past nine.

"I told Marius we'd meet the family at half past ten, by the way," Aurora reminded her father, though she looked over at Molly Weasley, who checked the time on the clock and went into a frenzy, rushing out of the kitchen and upstairs. Of course, nobody would be ready. Merlin, how she hated them. "We want to leave plenty of time so that I can either find Elise a good seat with alright people, or get a decent compartment of our own, and I'm sure everyone will have lots of questions for me."

"We've got ages yet," her father assured her calmly, "don't worry about it."

"I'm not worried," she said defensively. "But some of us like to be organised."

It was a good thing that she had reminded him of the time, though, or at least Molly Weasley, who started to chivvy her children along and force them out of their beds. If she had worried about her father and Harry's lack of punctuality, it was made even worse by the chaos of the Weasley family, who seemed determined to make Aurora lose her mind.

"What do you mean you haven't packed yet?" she demanded of Fred Weasley at five minutes past ten. "We need to be at the station in twenty minutes! Twenty! Are you insane?"

"It's fine," George said with a dismissive wave, tossing a pair of socks over her shoulder into the room he and his brother shared. "Train doesn't leave 'til eleven."

"But I'm meeting my cousin at half past ten, so I need to be at the station at twenty-five past, at the very latest, and do you know how long it takes to get there? We should have left ten minutes ago! Get a move on!"

"We would if you weren't standing in the doorway."

She sighed loudly, nettled by Fred's amused grin, and stomped over to the next room, where Potter was lying on his bed throwing a snitch in the air, and Ron Weasley crowing about his new Cleansweep Seven. Aurora stood in their doorway, arms folded, glaring at her godbrother until he sat up with a sheepish look, and said, "We're almost ready, you don't need to burn holes in the curtains."

"Well, if it makes you shift your lazy arse, it can't be so bad. Hurry up!"

"Keep your hair on, Black," Weasley told her. "You sound like my mother."

"I pity your mother for having to try to get you anywhere on time. Now go, or I'm leaving, and don't think I don't know how to make this house eat you!"

With that, she stormed out, cast an eye into Hermione and Ginny's room to see Hermione hurriedly getting Ginny to pack her trunk, and ran back up to her own room, grabbing her trunk and broom, pulling on Dora's light grey cardigan over the jeans and t-shirt she'd borrowed, and carried back downstairs. She had to be the first one visibly ready, after all, to prove a point.

She watched on as the Weasleys descended into all-out chaos; Ginny was nearly knocked down the stairs by Fred trying to levitate his trunk, and Mrs Weasley shouted at him so loudly it woke Aurora's grandmother from her portrait, and had to get her to stop yelling, which only prolonged the process. It was a miracle they even made it out of the house at all, let alone at quarter past ten.

"We're going to be late," Aurora said to her father, walking briskly ahead of everybody else and pretending to have no association whatsoever to the bedraggled mob of children behind her. "We're going to be late and Elise's family are going to think they're lost or in the wrong place, and anything could happen to them if they're just hanging out on a seemingly random train platform!"

"It's going to be fine," her father said, though he too was walking quicker than normal, carrying her broom for her. "Callidora said they're always late, anyway."

"But I'm not!" Aurora protested, casting a glare back over her shoulder. They were all far too laid back. "I hate them all."

"No, you don't."

"Yes, I do. They're stupid, lazy children, and they need to either learn how to wake up on time or walk three times faster."

Her father looked like he was trying not to laugh.

"It really is ridiculous," she informed him, warm from rushing so much in the sunlight. "How any people can be so wretched at keeping time when they are given a perfectly reasonable deadline and reminded time and again, I do not know! Are all Gryffindors like this? How do they ever get anything done?"

"Quite easily," her father said with a grin. "We're very talented, you know."

She let out a disparaging noise of protest. "Well, use that talent to keep up with me, please, I couldn't stand to be late for this."

At any rate, she had them at the barrier to Nine and Three-Quarters at thirty-two minutes past ten, and there were no long-lost family members in sight, much to her annoyance.

"Told you," Potter sang, folding his arms and looking around. "We're probably the first ones here."

"You're welcome to leave," she told him, but he did not.

"Hey, Marius is my great-aunt's brother! Elise is basically my cousin, I want to see her."

"She's not your cousin," Aurora said, annoyed. "There's no blood relation. You have a mutual great-aunt, that's all."

"So we're great-cousins."

"There's no such thing as being great-cousins, Potter. You don't share any blood."

"Not that close, anyway," her father put in cheerfully, "but almost certainly somewhere else in the line."

"The thought of having any genetic relation to Potter turns my stomach," Aurora informed her father, tossing her hair.

"Same," Harry said, and both grinned.

"Bloody hell," Ronald Weasley said, as the others caught up to them, looking harried. "You don't half walk fast, Black."

"You don't half laze about, Weasley."

He and Harry exchanged derisive glances. "She had a point," Hermione said primly, looking around. "What do your cousins look like?"

"Muggles," Aurora said. "Dark haired, most of them. Elise is quite small, but very enthusiastic. She's sooner heard than seen. And she'll probably be skipping."

"I take it she gets that from you, eh, Black?" Fred Weasley grinned, waggling his eyebrows.

Aurora glared at him. "No."

Her father and Potter laughed in unison.

"Right, then," Molly Weasley said. Dora was with her, having come disguised as an old woman to help keep an eye. "You can all go on through, we don't all need to wait on Aurora's cousins. Though perhaps Tonks should wait with Harry, if you're staying?"

"Sure thing, Molly," Dora said. "Now shift it, you menaces."

"You wound us, Tonks," George said, hand over his heart, as he and Fred jostled each other to the barrier.

Once they were all through and it was just the four of them left, Aurora's father turned to Aurora and Harry, sighed, and ran a hand through his hair. "Promise you two won't tear each other apart at school this year?"

"Who, us?" Harry asked, eyes wide. "Oh, but Sirius, haven't you realised — we're the best of friends!"

"Yes," Aurora said innocently, playing along, "we're even going to be nice to each other when we play Quidditch!"

"Not a single hex between us."

"Not even a small one," Aurora promised, and her father sighed.

"Yeah," Harry agreed, "I'll just hex the Quaffle instead."

Aurora elbowed him in the side, and sighed in relief when she noticed Elise bounding towards them, her father dragging a trunk behind him. "Keep the threats down for a moment, would you?" she asked Harry sweetly. "We've company."

His eyes lit up with interest as he whirled around to follow her gaze. Elise had her dark hair up in two ponytails today, which swung at her shoulders as she skipped over the station concourses. "She's cheerful."

"She's eleven," Aurora said. "Weren't we cheerful?"

Harry eyed her with suspicion. "You blackmailed me when we were eleven."

"I was twelve by that point, actually. And you smuggled a dragon out of school."

"No thanks to you, that is."

She shrugged. "Draco would have done a better job of stopping you." At the mention of her cousin's name, Harry's face clouded in annoyance and Aurora silently cursed herself. Her father, noticing this, stepped forward and waved his hand to call the group of four over to them. "Anyway, you succeeded, and what does this have to do with my sweet little cousin's ludicrous cheer levels?"

"Nothing," Harry muttered, reclining back into his state of moodiness, "you brought it up."

She supposed he was correct, much to her displeasure. Rather than acknowledge this fact — for really, there could be little worse than conceding a point to Harry Potter — she pursed her lips and turned to wait for Elise and her family. Elise caught up to them much quicker, breathless and smiley and rosey-cheeked. "Hi!" she said, staring up at Aurora. "How are you?"

"Quite alright, thank you," Aurora said, and only noticed how mechanical the words sounded once they were out of her mouth. "And you?"

Elise grinned. "I'm so excited! I couldn't sleep last night, like, at all!"

"Are you not exhausted?"

Elise shook her head, wide-eyed. "Oh no, I've been buzzing all morning. I could hardly eat either — do they have food on the train?"

"They have sweets," Aurora offered, and Elise's eyes lit up.

"Perfect."

Aurora and Harry exchanged glances which indicated a mutual belief in the inevitability of Elise gathering a sugar high and then a grand crash before they arrived at Hogwarts. "Morning," Marius said, as the three adults — all appearing rather weary — joined them. He sized up the wall behind them, eyes lit in recognition, then coughed. "Through here then, is it?"

"Best to lean against it and sort of meld in," Aurora's father said, "though the three of you may have to go through with one of us — part of the wards see, to keep Muggles out?"

Charles and Eleanor seemed rather displeased by this, but did not get a chance to voice it before Elise latched onto Aurora's arm as declared, "Can I go through with Aurora?"

She wondered if Elise realised what the term Muggle meant yet, and looked helplessly to her father, who shrugged. "How about Aurora, Marius, and Elise? I'll go through with Eleanor, Harry with Charles?"

"Whatever suits," Charles said flippantly, and grinned at Harry. "Want a hand with that owl, mate?"

Hedwig had been unusually placid, but at the mention of her, sprang to life and hissed at Aurora, who glared right back. "Very well," she said, turning a smile on Elise. "I suggest you bring your trunk through with you, if you wish to be sentimental about the occasion."

She had meant it as something of a joke, but Elise immediately turned around to tell her father to hand her her trunk, and Aurora was not quite sure what to do with the influence she had suddenly felt she acquired over this child. Still, Elise grinned when she clutched her trunk and set her gaze on the wall before them and said, "I think I'm ready to be a witch, now."

"Let's hope so," Aurora remarked drily, and she meant it far more than any of them realised. There was a lot that Elise would have to be ready for, a lot that Aurora still daren't truly ask of her, not yet. But the two of them exchanged conspiratorial glances as Marius came to their other side and then, the three of them slipped between worlds.

Platform Nine and Three-Quarters, at least, had not changed. Aurora tried to see it through Elise's eyes, the culmination of a summer's worth of dreams and a lifetime of fantasies, the train's engine steam curling with an optimistic haze. She took in the girl's wide-eyed state and sudden, blissful silence, and allowed a faint smile.

Elise's parents came through behind them with Harry and Aurora's father, both with similar — though slightly less giddy — reactions. Aurora gave them a moment of awe, before giving in to the pressure of the crowd and the curious looks they were receiving and saying, "Best to pop your trunk and such on the train as soon as possible, then come and say goodbye. You do have a separate bag for the journey, yes?" Elise held up a sparkly pink backpack and Aurora tried to look approving. "Spectacular. Harry, come with with us."

"Oi," he said, surprised, "don't call me Harry."

"I'll call you what I want, Potter, quickly, now."

Elise stifled a laugh, skipping towards the train. Why she was skipping, Aurora did not know, but it was entertaining. They managed to find a compartment for Elise quite quickly, along with a couple of other girls whom Aurora and Harry had marked out as Muggleborns by their clothes and wide-eyed awe. Finding their own friends seemed rather more difficult, though Aurora had to admit to herself that she wasn't sure if she was entirely ready to face her own. Ron and Hermione had already gone to the Prefects' carriage, so Aurora and Harry shoved their trunks in a compartment with Ginny, which was thankfully not too far from Elise, and returned to the platform before the adults could get too agitated.

There, Aurora lingered with a deep awareness of the eyes on them, as Elise said her tearful goodbyes. The words don't cry were on the tip of her tongue, as she remembered her own send-off, four years ago; half-shed tears, but tight hugs, the words Lucretia had spoken to her.

You are a Black. You are part of one of the noblest and most ancient families in our world. People may think what they want of you for it, but they will never forget that.

They were words that she had interpreted in many different ways and through many different emotions, yet, she felt they were of relevance to Elise, too. Elise, who would be judged by a legacy she barely yet understood. Elise, who was going to have to adjust to a world where she knew no one and was expected to be someone.

So when Elise's mother finally let go of her, it was Aurora who clasped her hand and said, "I can't promise this is all going to be easy, Elise. You're a member of the Black family, and that means a lot here. But just remember, you've always got me to turn to. We look after our own. So anything you need at Hogwarts, whether it's advice or a friendly face or a spare roll of parchment, come to me, yes?"

Elise frowned at her. "Sure," she said, "but why are you getting so emotional about it?"

Aurora bit her lip, trying not to roll her eyes. "This is a big moment," she said primly. "And I just wanted to make sure you knew."

"You can come chat to me, too," Harry offered, and Aurora resisted the urge to glare at him, "but I probably won't have any spare parchment. My friend Hermione will, though."

"He won't have any good advice, either," Aurora put in, and he shrugged.

"Yeah, probably that, too. But I do have a nicer face."

With a laugh, Elise turned back to her mother, who said, "Promise us you'll write every week? And you'll tell someone if you have any problems."

"I'm going to be fine," Elise insisted, but everyone else knew that a parent's worry for their child could not be so easily dismissed.

Aurora turned to her father, then, who had been watching them quietly, musing. "Don't tell me you're getting all emotional?" she asked. "We have done this before."

"I know," he said. "Just — well, I'm proud of you both. And I love you very much." She and Harry exchanged uneasy glances, and he stepped forward to come to her side. "Listen, I might not be as easily reachable this year. Dumbledore wants me to take up some field work again, and, well, I'll accept when the time comes for it to be useful. We'll have to be careful what we put in letters and I might not be able to make it for Hogsmeade weekends…"

"But where are you going?" Harry asked, a tone of fright in his voice. Like he was scared of being left.

"I don't know yet. Maybe nowhere, depends on You-Know-Who's movements. And anyway, I'm not sure I'll be at liberty to disclose it." Aurora's stomach turned. "We knew this was coming," he said and while it was true, it didn't make it easier. "But I will be home for Christmas. And I doubt I'll be called away before the end of September unless things really take a turn, so I'll be around for your birthday, Aurora, and hopefully for the first Hogsmeade trip — Dumbledore already told me it's the start of October."

"Right."

He winced. "Please, just look after each other."

"Sure," Harry said, a coolness to his voice which Aurora disliked but could not bring herself to truly criticise.

Her father's mouth wobbled, turning to a frown. "I love you both," he said, opening his arms, and Aurora swallowed her pride as she let him embrace them both together. "Be careful, alright?"

"I love you too," she said, at the same time as Harry, and her father at least got a chuckle out of that.

"I'll be alright if you are," he promised them, squeezing tightly. "So try not to get in too much trouble."

"So says you," Aurora muttered, but squeezed him back, feeling like she could never let go again, because letting go meant turning around and getting on that train to an uncertain year ahead, and she wanted to cling to summer for as long as possible.

Eventually, though, they had to let go, and Aurora forced herself to turn to a rather tearful Elise and her parents. "Alright, then," she said as calmly as she could, "if we're all ready?"

"You sound like a schoolteacher," Harry muttered, and she resisted the urge to swat him.

"Well, one of us has to be responsible."

"Okay," Elise said, breaking their conversation. Now that the time was drawing closer to eleven, Aurora could tell she was becoming nervous. It was natural, she supposed, though strange to see on that particular face. She turned to hug her parents and grandfather quickly again, and then bounded behind Aurora and Harry onto the train, oblivious to the stares and the whispers that Aurora was doing her damnedest to ignore. Then again, she thought as they meandered down the corridor, and Elise glanced into and out of every window, perhaps she had noticed, and was ignoring it too; she had always been observant, after all.

When they reached the compartment Elise had chosen, with three other nervously babbling girls, the younger girl paused, biting her lip. "You can stay with us," Potter offered, to Aurora's annoyance, "if you're nervous."

"No," Elise said stubbornly, glancing back "Mum says I need to start making friends and not follow you about."

Aurora laughed. "I really don't mind, you know."

Elise shrugged. "Yeah, well, you'll probably start talking to each other about that Arithmancy thing you were on about last time."

"Oh, I can assure you, Potter has no interest in that or anything vaguely academic. Besides duelling," she added, at his annoyed look.

With a small laugh, Elise looked over her shoulder again and settled to say, "You'll just be in the compartment you showed me earlier, right?"

"Yep. Well, Harry will be — I've got a few other people to pop in on, but I'll let you know, alright?

"Aurora has a tendency to wander."

"I have friends, is what he means. Popularity is something he doesn't quite understand. You're sure you'll be alright?"

Elise nodded, bouncing on the balls of her feet. "Alright then," Aurora said, wondering if she were not the more uncertain party here. "You know where we are, I suppose — try and locate your parents on the platform, they'll want to wave you off. And I'll find you when the train stops at Hogsmeade, make sure you get into the boat across the lake alright — upper years ride separately, in carriages, but I'll look out for you. We both will."

"Sure," Elise said, and Aurora started to back away, for she looked ready to tear into the compartment the moment she was left without supervision. Sure enough, she and Harry managed to get only a few paces away before the door opened then closed, and a babble of chatter rang out in the compartment again.

Smiling to herself, Aurora continued to the little compartment she and Harry had chosen, and went to sit by the window, with Ginny picking out her father in amidst the crowd. She leaned up, to the open window, and waved until he caught sight of them and beamed back. She had yet to spy any of her friends, though she did catch sight of Narcissa's blonde hair glinting in the crowd.

"I take it the other two are in the prefects compartment?" Aurora asked Ginny, who nodded, rolling her eyes.

"Fred called Ron a ponce and then he stormed off in that general direction, so I guess that's what happened."

Harry gave an uncharasterically harsh laugh. Aurora turned to look at him, confused by the reaction, but there was a nasty look on his face historically reserved for her, and she didn't have the heart to say anything.

"Will you be alright if I go find my friends?" she asked instead.

"What." Potter glared at her. "You think I'm going to be attacked on the train?"

"I think you're going to be a miserable bastard all day, actually."

"I'm sure I'll be fine on both counts, as long as you keep Malfoy out my way. And no offense, you're not improving my mood."

"I was more concerned for everyone around you, but, no offense taken, I suppose. Thanks, Potter." She rolled her eyes, staring out the window.

The words about Draco made her stomach turn for reasons she did not understand; was it fear of discomfort having to see Draco's face again, was it the strangeness of having him held against her, was it the knowledge that she had hit a nerve she didn't want to, and that was what caused Potter's reaction? He went for the safe comment, the not-quite insult, the suggestion of animosity they could not quite bear anymore. She didn't have the time for this.

There was a knock on their glass door. All three turned sharply, but it was only Neville Longbottom, looking sheepish and carrying a cactus-like plant that was oozing yellowish sap. Aurora wrinkled her nose, but Harry waved the boy in. "Um, hi," he said, "d'you mind if I…" His gaze wandered to Aurora, who looked blankly back at him. "Sit?"

"I don't bite," Aurora told him flatly, and he smiled a little, ducking inside. "Remember?"

"Right, yeah."

"What is that?" she asked, leaning over to inspect the strange plant. It seemed to cower away from her, and Neville took a protective hold on it. Wonderful.

"Mimbulus mimbletonia. It's quite amazing, its sap—"

He was cut off by yet another appearance in their doorway; a girl with a pale face and long, dirty blonde hair, wearing a fuzzy pink jacket and an expression of amused bewilderment. Luna Lovegood, Aurora thought, recalling the rather peculiar Ravenclaw in the year below her own. She had a magazine tucked under her arm and no other luggage in sight.

"Hello," Aurora said politely. "Are you lost?"

Luna Lovegood looked at her, as though this were an absurd question. "I'm Luna."

"…Yes?"

"I saw your plant," she told Neville, inviting herself into the compartment and sitting down next to the boy, who now looked rather unsettled. "It's very interesting, but you might want to stop it smelling so badly."

"Oh." Neville looked mournfully down at the potted mimbulus mimbletonia. "Well…"

"Sorry," Harry said, an edge of annoyance in his voice, "who are you?"

"Luna," she said, in a voice so dreamy it took a moment to register that she had actually said a name and not merely formed a stream of flowing sounds. "Lovegood. You're Harry Potter."

He blinked. "I — I am."

"Yes. And you're Aurora. Stubby Boardman's daughter."

"I — what?"

"And I don't know you," she said to Neville. "But I know your face."

"I'm nobody," Neville told her hurriedly.

"No, he's not," Ginny said, on a somewhat scolding manner. "Neville Longbottom, Luna Lovegood. Luna's in my year, Ravenclaw."

"Wit beyond measure is man's greatest treasure," Luna informed them cheerfully. Then she took her magazine out and started to read it upside down. Harry looked to Aurora, mouthing, Stubby Boardman? She could manage only a helpless shrug in reply, trying to see if Luna Lovegood was in the mood for explanation, which it appeared she was not.

"Sorry," Aurora said placidly, "you mentioned… Stubby Boardman?"

"Oh, yes," Lovegood said, not looking up from her newspaper. "I know he's your father."

"I — no, no, I'm Aurora Black."

"Well, you would say that, wouldn't you? It's alright. Stubby is a fantastic artist, or at least he was."

"He — my father is Sirius Black."

"Who is Stubby Boardman, yes."

"He's… Not Stubby Boardman."

Luna Lovegood fixed her with a disbelieving, almost pitying stare. "If you say so," she conceded after a moment, and returned to her magazine.

Harry let out a hastily stifled snort of laughter. Neville stared between them and his mimbulus mimbletonia, apparently too intimidated to ask what had just happened — though intimidated more by whom, Aurora did not want to ask.

"Anyways," she said, "as lovely as this company is…"

"Don't go on my account," Luna said.

"Oh, I'm not." She cast Potter a scathing look for good measure. Ginny smirked, but Neville determinedly avoided looking at either them. "I told my friends I'd go find them. I'll see you all later. Luna… It was a pleasure to meet you."

She couldn't get out of there fast enough.

There was a part of her that did not want to enter the carriage with her friends, still, though. She did not want to see whoever had become Slytherin prefect instead of her, did not want to listen to the predictions and suggestions and answer why it hadn't been her. And she was scared of seeing Draco; a selfish part of her wanted nothing more than to keep him to herself, as if by hiding from the rest of the world and the friends who knew them too deeply, they could fix what was broken between the two of them.

Perhaps it was jealousy, that they all had seen so much more of him than she had, that they were allowed that proximity, whereas she was surrounded on both sides by people who could not be reconciled. She did not want Lucille's judgment or Daphne's casual coolness or Greg's indifference or even, for a moment that made her feel wretched inside, Pansy's excitement, because it would only make her feel worse. She knew it was terrible of her but she could not escape those feelings, the bitterness she had thought would lift when she returned to school but which seemed to have sunk too far into her heart, already.

Spying Daphne's long blonde hair by a compartment window, Aurora forced herself to set her face in a neutral expression and keep walking, to join her friends. Chatter drifted from the open window; when she came to the doorway, it stopped.

"Oh," Daphne said, surprise written on her face for a split second before it lifted. "Hello, Aurora. We thought you'd gotten lost."

"And yet no one thought to send a search party?"

She did a quick scan of the compartment: Theodore, Daphne, Lucille, Millie, and Blaise. No sign of Draco or Pansy, or Vincent and Greg. Presumably they were all together; a horrible bitterness twisted inside her at the thought that Draco and Pansy had been made prefects together.

"Blaise thought you had it covered, didn't you, Zabini?"

Blaise roused himself in the corner, and glanced up. "I believe what I said was that Lady Black would sooner curse us than let a search party find her."

"Considering I had no need of being found," she said tiredly, "yes, I imagine so. I couldn't find you all when I arrived first. Anyway, someone budge up, will you? Where are Draco and Pansy?"

Millie nudged Daphne and Lucille along so that Aurora could get a spot next to her. "Prefect duties. They've a meeting. The boys are loitering somewhere waiting for them — well, Draco, really."

"They got bored of us," Lucille said.

"Understandable."

"I haven't seen you in forever," Millie whispered to Aurora. "You disappeared, just like Daphne."

Aurora gave a light shrug. "It was summer. I suppose I got busy."

"Busy doing what?" Lucille asked with a light scoff, leaning over.

"Reading," Aurora said lightly.

Millie laughed. "Sure. Everyone knows you've been running about in the Assembly."

"That actually requires a lot of reading," Aurora said, feeling the tension as soon as the word assembly was mentioned. Gazes slid to her and away again. "Anyway, Millie," Aurora continued pointedly, "you're right — we haven't spoken in so long. How's your sister?"

"Engaged to be engaged," Millie told her miserably. "Fallon Avery."

Aurora recognised the name; he was at least eight years older than them. She wrinkled her nose. "Is she happy?"

Lucille snorted.

"Not in the slightest," Millie said. "But she says she will be, eventually."

"I think it's a terrible shame," Blaise drawled from the corner. "Drina's got the right attitude to boss people about, but the Avery matriarch is famously worse, isn't she?"

"The Avery matriarch is my great-aunt," Lucille reminded him in a clipped tone, and he shrugged.

"Everyone's someone's great-aunt," Theo said quietly, and no one could argue with that. Aurora smiled at him, and he returned it tentatively.

Blaise yawned, leaning back against his seat. "What's the betting Vince and Greg get turned into slugs before they find Draco and Pansy?"

Laughter rippled around the compartment. Aurora carefully avoided looking at anybody.

"Who turned them into slugs?" Daphne asked from by the window.

"Weasleys, apparently," Blaise drawled.

Aurora raised her eyebrows in what she hoped was an appropriately shocked expression. "Savages."

"I thought you were friends with the Weasleys now?" Lucille said to Aurora, and she laughed.

"And what basis do you have for that, Lucille?"

"You're friendly with Potter."

"I tolerate Potter's existence mainly by pretending he doesn't exist. I have even less interest in the Weasleys. Really, Lucille, I thought you were more intelligent than to think so little of me."

"You did attend Merlin's Day with the MacMillans," Daphne pointed out. "My grandmother's been talking about it all summer."

"The MacMillans aren't blood traitors."

"Yes, but… Well, there's a reason Leah MacMillan isn't here, isn't there?"

"To be fair," Theo said, "I don't think Leah really ever wanted to be."

Lucille glared at him. "There's reason for that, too—"

"Can we start a game of something," Millie said with a loud sigh. "We've been having the same three conversations all summer and I'm sick to death of it."

Blaise was eager to appease her in this, himself evidently bored of it all. He declared himself 'master of the cards' and unveiled an intricately detailed deck from his robes and proceeding to explain the rules of some bizarre new game Aurora was fairly certain he had just made up for the sake of their group and drawing the attention onto himself. By the time any of them had managed to actually understand the rules — which included various assignments of points corresponding to, but not equalling, the numbers on the cards they were to blindly trade — Pansy had blown into the carriage with the look of someone feeling rather put upon, and she all but collapsed into the spot Aurora had saved for her.

"I hate your cousin," she told her, folding her arms. "We're supposed to be doing prefect duties right now and I went to the bathroom to fix my lipstick and then he disappears with Vincent and Greg! Honestly!"

"Git," Aurora agreed, only a little nervous about what Draco might be getting up to. "Congratulations on getting prefect, though."

Best to get it out of the way, no matter how forced it sounded. Pansy stared at her. "I hate it."

"Wonderful. Well, chin up — Draco's a git but he's about to miss out on what Blaise assures us all is an absolute spectacle of a card game."

And with a self-suffering sigh, Blaise had to explain it all over again.

They had gotten through a first 'practice' round — also known as Blaise inventing rules as he went along, until Lucille declared it was all void anyway and they should start over again — when Draco entered the compartment, looking far too pleased with himself, Vincent and Gregory trailing behind him.

"What kept you?" Aurora asked her cousin as he sat down between her and Pansy and Blaise began to deal the cards out with flourish.

He shrugged. "Went to try and find the trolley witch, but we couldn't. I swear she must just appear from the roof or something".

"Mhm." Something about his tone, meant that she could not believe his words.

"Don't worry about me so much," he teased, "I'm fine. I was with Crabbe and Goyle."

That wasn't quite what she was worried about, but Aurora daren't elaborate or to contradict him. "Hey," he started with a grin, "have you heard about Potter?"

She tried to keep her expression neautral as she asked, "The madman in the Daily Prophet? Yes, I believe it rings a bell. I may even have had a conversation with him at some point in my life."

Draco snorted, seeming pleased by her suitable level of disdain for Potter's press coverage. "Apparently he isn't too impressed about Weasley being prefect."

Aurora raised her eyebrows, already fearful of what that comment meant. "And where did you hear this from?"

"That Colin Creevey was gossiping about it," he said quickly; too quickly. The words were quick to compensate for the hesitancy before them.

"Colin Creevey talks about nothing but Potter."

"He said it was a great injustice."

"He thinks Potter being anything less than a God is an injustice. Really, though, I'm sure Potter's got more to worry about."

Lucille's gaze flickered to them and then back to the game. "Like what?"

"I don't know. Passing his Potions O.W.L.? Really, I don't actually care — I'd rather talk about anything else considering I've hardly spoken to you all summer:"

"Hey," Blaise said, interrupting them by waving a hand of six cards under her nose, "Lady Black?"

She glared at him and took the cards, not missing how Daphne and Lucille exchanged a look at Blaise's use of her title, and how Pansy watched her and Draco's exchange. Her cousin kept his mouth shut as he took the cards, but when Blaise moved onto Greg, he said with a tone of great importance, "My father has been keeping me busy. Training in the family business, you know — he's been working very closely with Fudge at the moment, and I've been helping."

"Really?" That piqued Aurora's interest; she sat up and leaned closer. "Helping with what?"

"Oh, investments, the accounts, that sort of thing. Father expects he may be due a Wizengamot appointment soon, and if that's the case then once I leave school, I'll be expected to take on more of the business side of things, so he wants me to know what I'm doing. He's advising Fudge on some legislation at the moment, to do with education reforms. Have you heard about it?"

"Not yet," Aurora said, struggling to keep tension from her voice. "I'm sure it takes a while for these things to reach the Assembly floor."

Draco shrugged. "I dunno, I think they're trying to get it through soon as possible, from the sounds of things. Father hasn't given me a timeline though, just said he'll keep me updated."

"Right." Aurora smiled carefully. "What is it that they're aiming for, do you know?"

"Well…" Now, Draco shifting uncomfortably, looking upon her as though he was just now remembering her opposition to his grandfather. "I don't know exactly, but they want to make sure Hogwarts runs more efficiently, basically. Dumbledore's made a right mess of it the last few years."

And Fudge wanted him out, Aurora thought. Sooner rather than later, if she was making the right inferences. Interesting. "You don't happen to know who the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher is then?" she asked, loudly, drawing Pansy's attention. It was always a favoured topic of speculation; the inability of anyone to hold down the position for more than a year had become Slytherin house's favourite and longest running joke.

"Dolores Umbridge," Draco supplied with a grin, noticing the attention on him. "Senior Undersecretary to the Minister. Father speaks very highly of her."

Aurora's stomach dropped. It was Umbridge who had pushed through the anti-werewolf bill last year, Umbridge who had been campaigning for regulation of half-bloods and Muggleborns' employment, Umbridge who was trying to force centaurs from their lands. Umbridge who had looked at her with disdain and who grasped for power wherever she could find it.

"She'll be terrifically dull, I imagine," Blaise said after a moment of silence, "coming from the Ministry."

"Moody came from the Ministry," Millie pointed out.

"Yes, but he was an Auror," Lucille said, "and I'd take dull over brutish any day."

"What does Fudge's Senior Undersecretary know about the Dark Arts?" Theo asked, eyebrows raised. "Surely Moody was at least qualified."

"She's on the Wizengamot," Pansy said with a shrug, "isn't she?" Aurora nodded. "Well, she must know something, then, or Dumbledore wouldn't have chosen her."

"From what I heard," Lucille said, "Dumbledore probably had very little say in the matter. And a good thing, too. I couldn't bear a — a vampire or centaur or, Merlin, another half-giant brute."

Aurora kept her face neutral, trying not to flinch at the disparaging words.

"Still," Blaise said with a sigh, "I can't stand dullness. Or have we forgotten my game?"

"It isn't your game," Daphne said with a look of condescension, though Aurora exchanged a look with Theo indicating they both believed it to have been almost entirely Blaise's.

"My apologies — our jolly, friendly, communally-owned-and-played game. Now — Nott, trade with Malfoy on pain of explosion?"

Theo frowned, staring down at the hand he held. "You didn't tell us these cards could explode?"

"Who says I'm talking about the cards?" Blaise countered, and Theo hastily held out a card for Draco, who flung a two of spades back at him. "Remember — a full set earns quadruple points!"

"I've completely forgotten what the points mean," Theo said flatly, the only indication of his sarcasm being the low tilt of his lips. Blaise groaned.

"Well, I hope you enjoy losing. Parkinson, a trade with me, if you would, and if anyone tries to make me explain again, a hundred points in the negative!"

-*

The card game did, somehow, wind up being fun, though they all eventually got a little too vigorous with trading, instead flinging the cards at one another; this ended with Greg hitting Vincent in the eye, and Aurora and Pansy having to broker a peace between the two of them; Blaise and Daphne had started an argument of their own and Millie and Theo had seceded from the game entirely, creating a bizarre new set of rules designed purely to annoy everybody else.

As they drew into Hogsmeade Station, hours later and drowsy from the journey, Aurora was the first out of the compartment, carrying Stella in her arms as she went in search of Elise. Theo, to her surprise, came with her, while Draco and Pansy went off to 'help' the first years, assisted by Vincent and Gregory.

"Blaise is definitely going to challenge me to a duel if I stay there any longer," Theo said when Aurora gave him a questioning look, closing the door behind them. The two boys had come to something of a quarrel — mainly on Blaise's end — over the fairness of deducting all of one's points because they found the only joker left in the deck, which Blaise himself had forgotten to fish out.

"I don't know what you worry about," Aurora said lightly, "he'd certainly lose."

Theo wrinkled his nose. "It's more the fact that I'm too tired to bother with it right now," he said, and Aurora laughed. "Anyway — where are we off to?"

She almost panicked, floundering over her words; but Theo would know soon anyway, everyone would, and aside from the fact that there was no point in concealing Elise, she found that she trusted him, to be told by her, and not to give her the negative reaction she feared from others.

"My cousin," she told him slowly, "Elise, Elise Black. She's starting her first year, and I promised I'd meet her to make sure she got on the boats alright."

"You have another cousin?" Theo asked, blinking in surprise. "Neither of you ever mentioned—"

"Draco doesn't really know," she said in a rush. "Well, he does now, I had to forewarn him, but he didn't until recently. Neither did I, actually, not until last winter. She's… Her grandfather is a squib."

There was a moment of quiet, punctuated by an eruption of argument from some nearby second-years over a tie. "Oh. And the magic's resurfaced?"

"Obviously, Nott." Her heart quickened. "So, anyway, I have a duty to make sure she gets to the school alright. Her position might be a little precarious and, as the head of her family…"

"You think she might be endangered?"

"I certainly think that the eyes of every pureblood child here will be on her. Wondering. Not only do I have to make sure she's safe, but I need to make sure everyone knows she is protected — embraced — by me, and my name."

Theo chewed over that for a moment, before saying, "I wish it wasn't that way."

"Yes, well, unfortunately it is and there's very little we can do at the moment, so."

The words came out with more bite than she had intended them to, but Theo didn't look to have taken that tone too much to heart. They turned to the train doors as it rattled to a stop, and the doors slid open. Holding Stella tightly in her arms, Aurora hopped down onto the platform, with Theo behind her. She scanned the platform quickly, looking for Elise or any other stray first years as students began to fill the darkening night.

"We might be better going to the gates," Theo suggested, "that way you'll definitely catch her on her way out?"

Grudgingly, Aurora accepted he had a point, so they started down the platform. As they passed one of the doors further along, Harry disembarked, and Aurora met his eyes for a fleeting moment. He raised his eyebrows in gentle question, then inclined his head to Theo, asking if she was alright. Withholding an eye-roll, Aurora nodded, and then grinned at Ginny, who was just behind Harry and looking rather harried by Neville and Lovegood.

Elise was, to Aurora's relief, waiting by the gate, and looking quite cheerful. She had a small blonde girl with her, who was clutching a tiny grey kitten. "Aurora!" she called, and Aurora tried not to cringe at the attention it drew. Beside her, Theo tensed slightly, moving closer to her side as they joined the first years.

"Everything go alright on the train?" she asked, and Elise nodded.

"This is Clara," she said, gesturing to the blonde girl. "She got lost on the train, but her parents aren't magical, either. I said we should wait here for you." Aurora nodded approvingly, and Elise eyed Theo with interest, gaze sharp. "Who's this?"

"Theodore Nott," Theo said. "A friend of Aurora's. You must be the famous little cousin."

Elise grinned, and tossed her hair. "Yup, I'm Elise! Aurora, do you know where we're to go?"

"Professor Hagrid should be around somewhere," she said, though she could neither hear nor see any sign of him. "He's half-giant, so usually rather difficult to miss."

"Half-giant?" Clara echoed, eyes round. "How?"

"Best not to think about the dirty details of it," Theo said with a grimace; Aurora elbowed him lightly, and Stella hissed.

"They're eleven," she reminded him in a tight whisper, then raised her voice to say, "Come on with us, then, we at least know our way about here."

The two girls were giddy, bounding alongside Aurora and Theo. Despite the fact that they had no idea where they were going, they seemed to have no reservations about skipping on in front of their guides, then turning back with a look of confusion every so often as though wondering why they had made this silly decision which they were sure to make again within five seconds. It was, however, ever so slightly endearing, and Aurora and Theo shared amused glances as Clara, in her haste to look over at the thestral-drawn carriages nearby, tripped over a rock and almost brought Elise down with her.

"They're like foals," Theo said, "learning how to walk for the first time."

"They're excited."

"We weren't that clumsy were we?"

"Or as short."

"Oh, no, you were definitely shorter."

"Hey!"

Theo grinned, putting his hands in his pockets, and Aurora shook her head at him. It was nice to see him smile, though. He had been vascillating between subdued and frenetic all day. At last, she could hear someone faintly calling for the first years, but it was not Hagrid. Frowning, she looked to Theo, who wore a similar picture of bemusement. "Is that Professor Grubbly-Plank again?" he asked, squinting through the shadows to the reasonably proportioned witch holding a lantern.

"I think it may be," Aurora said, prompting Elise to look back with concern. She forced a smile. "Nothing! Different professor than usual, that's all — this way!"

Elise still clearly wanted to question the look on her face, as she questioned everything, but mercifully opted not to. The girls hastened, towards Grubbly-Plank, and were almost swept up in the crowd of first years.

"I'll see you at the Sorting, alright?" Aurora asked Elise, before clarifying, "That's when you get put in your house before the feast."

Elise brightened and nodded eagerly, offering a jaunty wave before dragging Clara into the mob of chattering children. Theo chuckled to himself as Aurora sighed and turned back round. "I think she'll be alright."

"She's loud. And clumsy. And certain to get noticed."

"Well, like you said, she's got you looking out for her. What could there be to worry about?"

Aurora rolled her eyes, nudging him. "Everything, Nott, but thank you for that attempt at comfort."

"Anytime, Lady Black."

He grinned as they headed for the carriages, while the steady train of students trickled away into the torchlit path to the castle. There weren't many left now, mainly prefects and those who had young siblings to check in on, and that gave Aurora a perfect view of the thestrals, one of whom let out a soft snort and turned to her, shaking its mane.

Theo was no longer beside her. Aurora turned sharply as she realised the absence, and saw him standing by a lamppost, cheeks white and eyes wide. "What… What are those?"

Her stomach twisted. Of course, how could she have forgotten to warn him, to let him know? "Oh, Theo." She took a step towards him. "I'm so sorry, I forgot — these are the school thestrals."

He blinked, but took a few steps forward. "Thestrals? Have we studied those?"

"Not yet," she said softly, sparing a glance over her shoulder. "I didn't realise — not many people our age can see them. They, well… They can only be seen by someone who's witnessed death."

There were certainly softer, kinder ways to deliver that news, but none that Aurora could fathom in the moment. Theo's eyes glimmered with newly sprung tears, and she held out her hands instinctively, to pull him to the carriages with her. "They're very gentle," she promised, "and tame. They're just rather, off-putting."

"Yeah." It was barely even a word, slipping from his lips half-formed. "I can see how they might be."

Aurora debated just going to the carriage, because she had no idea what to say now, when so much had already been said and nothing now could make his pain any easier to bear. But she squeezed his hand instead, turned to him and said, "We've been avoiding the subject, but, if you're not alright—"

"Of course I'm not alright." His voice was short and breathless and broke on the last word. "But these… Things… What's the purpose of them?"

Aurora blinked. "I don't know. They're Death's horses."

Theo strained against her hold on his hand, grimacing. "It's horrible."

"It isn't their fault."

"Why — why one earth would someone put those in a school? Have they been drawing the carriages all this time? Have — how long've you been able to see them?"

"I always have." Her voice came out curt and detached.

He shook his head, wrenching his hand from hers and turning sharply, to the empty space where the first years had left from. "Do we have to take the carriages?"

"Of course we do," Aurora said, blinking in surprise. "There's no other way."

"But I can't… Can't be near those things."

She struggled to understand this, but forced a nod. "Because, of what they represent? Are you scared?"

"No. I don't know. I just don't… They feel strange." He looked at the thestrals with an air of disgust, and shuddered.

"They've always been there," Aurora reminded him as gently as she could. "You just haven't been able to see them. It's no different to any other time."

"Yes, it is," Theo said, staring at her. "Of course it is. Surely you understand that? Now that I know, now I can see them and feel them?"

She grimaced, looking back at the horses with death twinkling in their eyes. "I know," she whispered, "I know it's hard to confront, but unfortunately it's something we have to do. There's no getting around it. I know that's harsh — I'm sorry."

Theo shook his head, but took another tentative step forward. "You said they're tame, right?"

"Of course they're tame. They pull carriages of children."

"This is Hogwarts," he reminded her, which was a fair point.

"I promise they're alright."

Theo didn't look entirely convinced, but as she had said, there was no getting around the necessity of them. She offered him her hand and a weak smile, as they went towards the nearest empty carriage. Theo eyes the thestrals apprehensively, and so Aurora approached one, going to stroke its mane. A tingle went down her spine as she did so, and she felt a cold sort of shadow wrap around her, and as she closed her eyes she knew that Death was watching this moment. She laid her cheek on the thestral's neck, feeling it breath gently beneath her, and heard a whisper, "It will come."

The words were foreboding, but she refused to fear them now.

"See?" Aurora said, turning back to look at Theo, who was staring at her, a strange, lost look on his face, lips parted by words unspoken. "They're strange, and take some getting used to, but they're alright."

Theo stood motionless for a moment, then swallowed tightly. His voice came out slightly hoarse. "Right."

Aurora gave a small smile, patting the thestral in goodbye. "I promise we'll be fine," she told Theo as she returned to his side, and pulled herself up into the carriage. He stared up at her, eyes shining. "Well?"

He shook his head, but took the hand she offered him, and joined her in the carriage, as it began to rumble on towards the castle.

Theo was quiet throughout the journey, and when they sat down with their friends at the Slytherin table. Daphne gave him a funny look which Aurora couldn't quite understand, and whispered something in his ear which she could not hear. At the top table, as Draco had said she would, Dolores Umbridge sat watching the students file in, with a sickening, smug smile. Even as Cassius and Graham came in and offered cheerful waves and clapped her merrily on the shoulder, Aurora felt Umbridge's gaze upon her with a great sense of unease.

"I'm Quidditch Captain, by the way," Graham said as he passed, ruffling her hair, "in case you were reserving your congratulations. Warrington's in a mood about it though, so let's you and I save the celebrations for later."

"Shove off, Montague," was her only reply, though she did manage a subtle grin at them both.

Soon, though, her attentions were taken over by the arrival of the new cohort of first years in the hall, led by Professor Grubbly-Plank. Elise was somewhere near the middle of them, but managed to escape the flow of the crowd to get into Aurora's eyeline and grin at her, before skipping on her. Ridiculous, cheerful child, Aurora thought with a stroke of fondness.

Yet, most of the children appeared nervous, some even trembling. It seemed impossible that Aurora had ever been so young and so scared, but at the same time, she could still feel their anxiety, the uncertainty over where she belonged, whether or not she would live up to expectation and pass the impassable test of the self. The whole hall waited, with bated breath, listening to the Sorting Hat's long song — the longest yet — about the importance of unity between the houses, as it told the story of how the founders had broken apart. Slytherin was to blame; it was always Slytherin, of course, and therein lay the issue, the paradox by which Aurora was constantly set against the perceived ideals of her house, and distanced both from her peers and by the members of all the other three.

And no one in the hall even seemed to listen to the song. At least, none of them seemed inspired to action; there were scathing looks thrown all about the place, and Aurora only kept looking up because Elise was there.

Her little cousin was up soon; only two students passed between the first, Euan Abercrombie (Gryffindor), and Elise Black. Muttering broke out around the hall; more than a few Slytherin faces swivelled round to stare at Aurora, questioning and speculating, glancing between the two as if to draw invisible threads between their features, searching for similarities. Aurora kept watching, impassive, giving only a nod of encouragement as Elise stepped up to place the old hat on her head.

She held her breath, listening, not even truly knowing what she wanted the verdict to be. It was an unexpected relief when, less than twenty seconds later, the hat's brim opened and cried out, "Ravenclaw!" and Elise, beaming — for Aurora had told her each house's attributes already, and they had agreed Ravenclaw was a very respectable house to belong to — skipped over to the table cheering on the other side of the hall.

"Black?" Lucille asked, leaning over the table as the Sorting moved on. "She's not related to you two, is she?"

"Distant cousin," Aurora said smoothly before Draco could say anything else, "my mother's side of the family. She's a very bright young thing."

"A cousin." Lucille looked over her shoulder and wrinkled her nose. "Hm."

"I didn't know you had any cousins left," Daphne said, voice already hungry for gossip. "My grandmother will be furious she missed out on knowing that."

"Elise's parents are rather private. They like to keep to themselves, and I respect that. Socialising can get so complicated." Especially now. Those unspoken words hung in the air, and after a moment, Daphne nodded with understanding in her eyes, and sank back down. Aurora clasped her hands tightly in her lap. The rest of the Sorting was a blur; at least Elise would be safe in Ravenclaw. And she would take to it well, she thought; her little friend Clara had made it there too, and that was an important foundation for any new student, especially any Muggleborns. She looked cheerful, unafraid and undeterred by the Sorting Hat's out-of-character speech. When she caught Aurora's eye across the hall, she waved, beaming, and Aurora tried to combat the cold nausea inside of her as well waved back, arms stiff and leaden.

Once the Sorting ceremony ended, Dumbledore gave his usual ridiculous speech before they all tucked into dinner, a terrible affair in which Aurora had to field a slew of questions about her mysterious cousin, and stop Draco from putting his foot in it about her blood status. It didn't matter, Aurora determined to herself. She was a member of the House of Black, that should be good enough to shut anybody else. But it hadn't worked for her.

"You lot are multiplying then?" Graeme's voice asked as he appeared between Aurora and Draco partway through pudding, seemingly bored with the chatter down his end of the table. "God help us."

"I'll make sure she doesn't join the Ravenclaw Quidditch team," Aurora promised him with a grin. "Any other trouble, well, that's her prerogative. I'm sure she's going to be very fun."

Draco made a derisive sound and stabbed his spoon — rather impressively, Aurora had to admit — into his sticky toffee pudding. Aurora rolled her eyes. "Ignore him."

"If it works for you. Gotta go see Urquhart — James, year above you, he found me and Cassius on the train to pester us about Keeper tryouts."

"While we're still mourning the loss of our beloved Captain Flint? How rude."

Graeme grinned and skimmed his hand over the top of her head, to which she replied by shoving him in the side. "I'm going to talk to Snape tomorrow about tryouts, but I'm thinking Saturday afternoon, so keep it clear. Oh, and I'll take this." He reached over and grabbed a spare plate, placing a slice of chocolate cake on it. "Cheers."

As he left, Aurora shook her head and turned back to Draco. "James Urquhart — he's alright, isn't he?"

He was a fairly bulky boy, with strong shoulders and jaw, and generally regarded as one of the better looking boys in the year above them, though none of her friends would consider him seriously. "Suppose," Draco said moodily. When Aurora raised her eyebrows, he added, "Guess you'd better get ready for tryouts then."

"We had better, you mean."

He shrugged. "Not like they'll need me much, I'm only Seeker. Anyway, Montague didn't say you have a spot."

"I have a spot," Aurora told him, laughing. "They both basically told me already last year, no matter who became captain, they'd keep me on."

Draco made an annoyed sort of grunt, but couldn't say anything more; in a flourish, the food and plates cleared themselves away and Dumbledore stood at the front of the hall, beaming out at all of them. Aurora turned, placing her hands together in her lap, watching expectantly. At least he usually kept his speeches short; there was nothing she wanted more than to get back to the dorm room she shared with Gwen and finally get to talk to her alone after so long apart.

"If I could beg a few moments of your attention for the usual notices," Dumbledore said, his tone questioning and the response utterly silent, as if anyone would ever dare to interrupt him. It was still impressive to Aurora how he managed to keep command of a room; even her fellow Slytherins, who generally disliked Dumbledore, were silent. He said the usual things; everyone was banned from the Forbidden Forest, which had to be said because clearly the name was not obvious enough, Filch's hundreds-long list of banned items had been updated and would be available upon request (at the Hufflepuff table, their new Prefwct Ernie MacMillan puffed his chest out importantly in such a way that made Aurora certain he would be the first to ask Filch for the list), and there were two changes in staffing, with Dolores Umbridge becoming 'permanent' Defense teacher, and Grubbly-Plank once again taking on a substitute position while Professor Hagrid was on leave. Aurora did not know for certain, but she was sure it was something with the Order. There had been something a while back about talks with the giants, which she supposed Hagrid was perfectly placed to get involved in.

Then, just as Dumbledore was getting around to Quidditch tryouts, he was interrupted by a light, high-pitched cough. Aurora turned, surprised, to see Professor Umbridge had stood and brought her height up by almost an entire inch. Any surprise or insult did not show on Dumbledore; he sat down politely, and watched her with a keen, interested air.

"Thank you, Headmaster," said Professor Umbridge, in a sweet, honeyed voice, "for those warm words of welcome."

Aurora, along with near enough everybody else, could only stare at her. If she had been at all welcome before, she had certainly blown it with the staff, almost all of whom now appeared as if they had lemons in their mouths, appalled by this subversion of order. In some ways it was rather amusing to Aurora, seeing McGonagall with her lips pursed and Snape with a face like he'd just witnessed a flood of mimbulus mimbletonia sap. It was rather chaotic; no one knew what to do with themselves as she started speaking, fully taking over Dumbledore's position at the front of the hall. At Gryffindor, Harry looked like he was considering murder, Ron Weasley stared at the table as though contemplating a nap, and Hermione stared at Umbridge just as Aurora did, calculating and considering.

"The Ministry of Magic has always considered the education of young witnesses to be of the utmost importance," she told them, something which Aurora had to stifle a laugh at. Of course, they did now, now that they didn't like the Headmaster and Fudge was gunning for more control. But properly vetting teachers, allowing board members to dictate everything by buying support, and ensuring no actual murders took place on school grounds, those were clearly only secondary concerns. "The rare gifts with which you were born may well come to nothing if not nurtured and honed by careful instruction. The ancient skills of the Wizarding community must be passed down the generations else we shall lose them forever. The treasure trove of magical knowledge amassed by our ancestors must be guarded, replenished, and polished by those who have been called to the noble profession of teaching."

There was a pause, and Aurora digested this; the emphasis on ancestry, and the responsibility of education, made her uneasy. What she said had an appeal — of course education was important, of course knowledge should be shared — but that point of ancestry stuck, when one knew the opinions Umbridge was said to hold on the issue of blood status and magical ancestry. Beneath her words, there was a claim made to authority, and it did not rest well with her.

"Progress for progress sake," she was saying now, "must be discouraged … A balance then, between old and new, between tradition and change…" She went on like that for quite some time, seemingly oblivious to the inattentive crowd before her. It was all preservation, with a promise of keeping progress that rang rather hollow when half the legislation she had introduced to the Ministry or Assembly repealed laws and brought politics back to the 1920s. Besides, Dumbledore had long stood as a symbol for progress in education and law; there was no way she was going to follow anything he advocated for. When Umbridge started talking about ushering in a "new era of openness," Aurora had to turn to stare at the table in an attempt to disguise her disbelief. The Ministry, she claimed as she concluded, was "intent on preserving what ought to be preserved, perfecting what needs to be perfected, and pruning wherever we find practices that need to be prohibited."

If Aurora had handed an essay in to Snape in Umbridge's vague speech style, she was sure she would have received a Dreadful mark, and a red-ink comment of utter drivel. From the expression on the Potions professor's face, that was indeed the mental marking he was given to his new colleague.

Aurora didn't dare say anything about it in the hall, but once Draco and Pansy had headed off to shepherd the first years, and she had seen to it that Elise was happy with her house and knew where the Owlery was located so she could let her parents know, she caught up with Gwen, Robin, and Leah by the staircase in the entrance hall.

"That was an interesting speech from Umbridge," Leah said, nudging Aurora, "don't you think?"

"As Dumbledore said: illuminating." She glanced over her shoulder and in a lower voice, with them all huddled near, she said, "The Ministry clearly wants to re-assert its authority over Hogwarts. I mean, we worked that much out already, but I'm sure it's only a matter of time before Umbridge starts trying to implement changes around here, starting no doubt, with the curriculum. All that stuff about innovation and preservation—"

"I think I zoned out by that time."

"I thought as much, Oliphant — Umbridge is here to act on Fudge's behalf."

"Pruning practices that need to be prohibited," Leah quoted, "that could mean anything she wants it to."

"Exactly," Aurora agreed grimly.

"I didn't like what she said about ancestry," Gwen said with a scowl. "Magical knowledge — she's the one who hates werewolves and Muggleborns and all sorts, isn't she?" Aurora nodded. "Bugger it."

"That's an understatement. But I think we'd all better stay on her good side," Aurora cautioned as they traipsed down towards the dungeons. "There's no telling what might happen if we don't. Not if Fudge gives her license to do whatever she wants."

"And from what I hear," Leah put in with an expression as grim as Aurora felt, "that's exactly what the Council's going to do. The Ministry's taking back Hogwarts. And I don't think they care how they do it."