For over a month now, tensions between Gryffindor and Slytherin Quidditch teams had been building up. Alicia Spinnet had recently suffered a nasty hex from Bletchley, and Cassius had had to see Snape to get a potion to reverse the effects of some boil-creating spell a Gryffindor had hit him with. For the days between Halloween and the first Saturday of November, Aurora was hardly off the Quidditch pitch, and only got to leave on Friday night because Bletchley had pointed out to Graham that if they stayed out much longer they were all going to be far too tired to play the next day and might also end up with frostbite. The one positive of this all was that Aurora didn't have the time to confront what had happened with Blaise on Halloween night — or, at least, she was busy enough to pretend like she didn't have the time. Their only dialogue passed unspoken in uncomfortable or teasing glances, depending on how bold either of them felt at a given moment. Every time Draco caught this, of course, he had to give a dramatic sigh and a pointed look that nettled Aurora, and made foolish, unwarranted embarrassment seep beneath her skin.

Before she went to bed the night before the match, Aurora read her mother's account of learning how to fly, and the first time she had tried out for the Gryffindor team: beaten out as Chaser by James Potter, but consoled by the thought that she might be made a Beater in the future. It was funny how similar two people could be, the echoes she found of her mother in herself.

Still, she hoped Gryffindor got absolutely thrashed tomorrow.

She arrived in the common room early for a pre-breakfast huddle with the team, at which Draco presented them all with silver pin badges in the shape of crowns. "What's this?" she asked, confused. "Don't tempt fate, now, Draco."

"They're not for us," Draco explained with a smug grin. "They're for Weasley. I've come up with a song, see, the one I've been practicing with Pansy." She stared at him blankly. "Ugh, everybody knows it — I swear you're so unobservant at times, you've done nothing but read for the last month. Point is, it'll wind Ron Weasley up, loads of our crowd's be singing it at him." Considering the way he had been getting on her nerves recently, Aurora had no qualms with this. She pinned the badge to her chest and grinned.

"Let's do this, then," Graham said, as people started trickling into the room. "Wipe the floor with those scarlet bastards. Agreed!"

"Yes, Captain!" Aurora and Cassius bellowed in sync, earning a glare which Aurora was sure had some fondness to it.

"Just follow me to the Great Hall," he grunted, and laughing, they did.

They received a roaring welcome from their table, all showing up in their kits together, and sat at the end closest to the door, all the better to heckle the Gryffindor team as they entered in drips and drabs. Potter gave Aurora a particularly foul look when she called him specky, though Weasley didn't seem to notice her at all, just sloped miserably toward a seat and slumped down, dejected.

"Looks like we've got the Keeper beat already," she said briskly, nodding towards him. Draco snorted.

"As it should be. Come on, then, folks, eat up, then let's get down to the pitch. It's time to win back the cup."

Blaise and Theo came to wish them luck a few minutes later. Blaise leaned down over Aurora's shoulder, and whispered in her ear, "Give them hell for me, hm, Lady Black?"

"Don't be so presumptuous as to imagine I'd do anything for your sake, Zabini," she said, as lightly as she could, even though the words came out so breathless. She caught Draco glaring at them, and felt heat flood her face again. "Go warm up your vocal chords."

"Pleasure," he said with a smirk, aimed both at Aurora and at Draco, whose eyes were wide in annoyance. "I look forward to celebrating with you."

A confused, nervous flutter in her chest accompanied the words. Aurora forced a smile, nodded to him as he went to call something over to Vaisey, while Theo lingered just a moment longer, looking at her with an uncertain sort of expression. Uneasy, she asked, "What is it, Theodore?"

He blinked, as though startled, and struggled to get out the words, "Good luck." His gaze darted to Blaise and then back again, and he swallowed tightly. "You'll do great. All of you, I mean. You're a great team."

Draco stared at him. "We know, Theodore."

Theo flushed, and Aurora shot her cousin a scolding look. "Thanks," she said warmly. "I reckon we Chasers have got a good chance against Weasley — I'm afraid it's on Draco to get the glory this time."

"Well, we're all counting on you to win us back the Cup," Theo said, a tad more relaxed, "so, no pressure."

"Me? Under pressure? Never!"

Theo laughed, the grin lighting up his face, and Aurora couldn't help her own smile in return, her nerves melting away. "See you later, then. I'll be singing as loudly as I can."

"I'm counting on it," Aurora told him, grinning as he went down the table to sit by the rest of their friends.

When she turned back to her breakfast, Draco was staring at her. "What?" she asked, prickling.

He shook his head, rolling his eyes, and stabbed his bacon with a fork. "You know what."

"I really don't, actually."

"Blaise? Everyone could see you two flirting, and personally, as your cousin, I am disgusted."

"By Blaise?"

"By the thought of how you're planning on celebrating. Seriously, do not flirt in front of me."

"You and Pansy snogged in front of me once! Actually, three times, which is more than I've ever snogged Blaise!"

"Me and Pansy are together!"

"Well if the basis for your disgust is merely our consanguinity then it's shouldn't matter, should it?"

Knowing he was defeated, Draco let out a loud sigh and stuffed bacon and scrambled eggs into his mouth so he didn't have to respond.

They did not return to their argument, too distracted by well-wishers, especially in the form of Elise, who attracted many stares from the Ravenclaw Table but whom Draco, blessedly, managed to be cordial with, for Aurora's sake — and she knew that made Elise feel more at ease, too.

Getting ready with the rest of the team down at the stadium, Aurora felt a sudden flutter of nerves again. It was their first match in two years, her first time playing as a full-fledged team member rather than a reserve filling in, and the first time that all of them had played together in this new team, while Gryffindor had been formed for years. They knew each other better, had a stronger style and with the exception of Weasley, generally had more pitch experience. They were always a tough team to go up against, but Aurora felt even more apprehensive this time.

The Gryffindors were late arriving out onto the pitch; Ron Weasley, though taller than any of his teammates, tried to hide behind them, green in the face and looking rather like he was going to be sick. Perhaps he had held them all up, worrying about his first appearance. Bletchley had no such issue; he exchanged a grin with Aurora, and nodded at Weasley, who swallowed nervously and stared at the floor. His brothers clapped him on the back, which seemed only to make him worse. She would have pitied him, if he hadn't been such an annoying gnat.

"Captains," said Madam Hooch, stepping onto the pitch once everyone had lined up, "shake hands."

Graham looked like he was trying to crush Johnson's fingers, but to her credit, the Gryffindor captain appeared unfazed. Aurora mounted her broom on Hooch's command, waiting with apprehension for the sharp, shrill whistle. When it came, she kicked off furiously and stared up into the air alongside Cassius, whirling around in the direction of the Gryffindor goalposts.

Johnson got the Quaffle, and Graham dived towards her. Aurora and Cassius reared around, following swiftly, as she swerved between them, narrowly dodged Graham, and when the goal was in sight, had a Bludger hit her from behind.

"Nice one, Crabbe," Cassius yelled, he and Graham diving to catch the Quaffle.

Graham got the first, and Cassius sped back towards Aurora, who flew across the pitch. Graham swooped between them, by was hit in the back of the head by George Weasley's Bludger; Aurora swooped in, cutting Katie Bell off so Cassius could get to the Quaffle first and soar up to the Gryffindor goals. Aurora was waiting halfway, catching his pass as he doubled back, toward his defensive post, and Graham passed him. Aurora pushed on, towards Ron Weasley, who was waiting with wide, terrified eyes.

"The crowd are loving it!" yelled the commentator, Lee Jordan. "What's that they're singing?"

Aurora could already hear it, the roaring crowd: "Weasley cannot save a thing, he cannot block a single ring. That's why Slytherin all sing, Weasley is our king."

She grinned, pressing on, yelled out, "Good luck, Your Majesty!" and barrelled the Quaffle right between his flailing arms into the centre goal.

"Yes, Black!" yelled Graham. "Bloody well done!"

The Slytherin stands bellowed their agreement, stamping their feet and cheering as another chorus of Weasley Is Our King started up. Beaming, Aurora reared up above the stands and soared round the goals, before racing back down to assist the boys in cutting off Alicia Spinnet's advance toward Bletchley.

All around her, she could hear the singing: "Weasley was born in a bin, he always let the Quaffle in!"

Cassius dove in front of Spinnet, cutting her off, she feared around, attempting a pass to Johnson, which Graham intercepted. Grinning, heart pounding with the rush of exhilaration and glory and the feeling of the crowd on her side, Aurora tore off back up the pitch, neatly catching Graham's pass and soaring up, swerving a Bludger from Fred Weasley, another from George, and then just before the goals, Potter soared in front of her from out of bloody nowhere and she fumbled her throw. The Quaffle plummeted to the ground, snatched away by Katie Bell.

"Nice one, Black!" Potter jeered. "Looks like you've got Dora's clumsiness!"

"That's Tonks to you," she shouted out over the wind and the singing. "And don't drag her into it, you tosser! At least my team's Keeper can defend a goal on his own!"

And she whirled back round, where the Gryffindor girls were enclosing on Bletchley, who saved yet another goal and tossed the Quaffle to Cassius, to Graham, then to Aurora. Potter was before her, but Draco feinted into a furtive dive towards the ground and distracted him in the search for a non-existent snitch. Aurora sent the Quaffle soaring through the goal once again; this time, Weasley hadn't even seemed aware of what was happening in front of him.

Graham swooped down and snatched it back before any of the Gryffindors could even get close, and sent through another roaring goal. The cheering and singing got louder and louder.

"Superb, Captain!" Aurora yelled to Graham, high-giving him in mid-air as she swooped in to assist Cassius, who had retrieved the Quaffle. Briefly, it passed to Johnson, then Spinnet, who was hit by a Bludger from Gregory which left the Quaffle in Graham's possession, careening through another goal hoop.

Forty-nil. Perfect.

"Let's do this!" Cassius bellowed, as the three of them tore off towards Alicia Spinnet, who had the Quaffle. Aurora dodged a Bludger which narrowly missed the tail of Cassius' broom; Graham reached out to cut off Spinnet, but she passed it deftly to Johnson, who had the path clear before her.

"Whack a Bludger, Goyle, for fuck's sake!" Aurora screamed, diving for Johnson, too late. Bletchley missed the Quaffle by an inch and the score ticked over to forty-ten as Aurora changed direction and snatched the Quaffle back, dodging Fred Weasley to chuck it up towards Graham, who went tearing off in pursuit of another goal.

Aurora and Cassius rushed to keep up with him as the Gryffindors closed in; Graham passed to Cassius who passed to her, who rolled to avoid a Bludger and tossed back to Graham, who was intercepted by Johnson, who went to Spinnet, who was tackled by Cassius, who tossed to Aurora, who turned and was cut off by the shrill shriek of the whistle and the booming roar of the Gryffindor end of the crowd. She reared around just in time to see Potter flung onto the ground by a Bludger, and hear Angelina Johnson screaming something unintelligible.

She hung back, panting. All that work and for nothing. They would have won on goals, and if Draco had just got to the blasted Snitch first…

She put that thought out of her mind as she drifted to the ground level with the boys, Quaffle still tucked under her arm. "What's happened there?"

"Crabbe whacked Potter! I think after the match was done."

Aurora winced. "I'm sure it'll be fine!"

Potter seemed alright, Aurora felt, not too winded from Vincent's jealous slam of the bludger. She set the Quaffle down hung back with Cassius and a defeated-looking Graham, who was muttering and scuffing the ground with his boots.

"It's only the first match," Cassius said, trying to be consoling but sounding utterly miserable anyway. "Doesn't mean our chances are out the window."

"Chang and Diggory are both brilliant. If Malfoy can't be at the top of his game—"

"He will," Aurora assured Graham loyally. "Draco played brilliantly today — Potter was just better. And Weasley was shit, there's no way they're going to win all their matches with a Keeper like that. They just got lucky this time."

Indeed, when she glanced over, Ronald was trailing his broom to the changing rooms alone, looking forlorn. She felt a stab of sympathy for him, removed from the rest of his team's celebrations, but was soon distracted by her cousin's voice cutting through the Gryffindor team's cries of victory.

"We wanted to write another couple of verses!" Draco called, referring to the song. "But we couldn't find rhymes for fat and ugly — we wanted to sing about his mother, see."

Her stomach twisted. "We don't want to be dragged into that," she said to the boys, but Graham was already wandering in Draco's direction, amused. "Come on, we'll get this Quaffle away before Hooch reprimands us all."

"We couldn't fit in useless loser, either — for his father, you know," Draco said as she got closer. Aurora winced. A bit of banter and insulting was normal, and Merlin knew she had suffered her share of it over the years, but this felt personal, uncomfortably so, now she knew the Weasleys better; for all she didn't care for Molly, Arthur was nice, and she found to her surprise that she really didn't like him being insulted, especially because she knew a large part of why the Malfoys didn't think he was worth any good was because of his interest in Muggles. And now the match was done, the teasing and the insults had lost its purpose. She didn't care about Ron, but Fred and George looked livid, and she didn't think Ginny would be too happy either.

"But you like the Weasleys, don't you Potter?" Draco said, as Fred stiffened and glared at him. Aurora could see him about to pounce, and went to intercede, heart in her chest. "I heard you spend holidays there and everything, don't you? Don't know how you can stand the stink — but I suppose when you've been dragged up by Muggles, even the Weasleys' hovel smells okay—"

"Draco," Aurora cut in warningly, her skin prickling with discomfort as she listened. Harry grabbed George and hauled him back from attacking. This was going to get ugly on both sides, she knew, but nothing sickened her more than the insinuation in Draco's words, the bitter hatred of muggles which turned her stomach. "The match is over, come on, before..."

Draco ignored her, his attention still fixed on Harry. Above them, Aurora could see the crowds start to move down. "Or perhaps," Draco said, and by his tone she knew he was going to say whatever could hurt Harry the most, "you can remember what your mother's house stank like, Potter, and Weasleys' pigsty reminds you of it."

"Draco, how dare — Harry, no!"

Her voice came out shrill as Potter suddenly reared into view, tackling Draco around the middle and pushing her out the way. Aurora screamed, watching as all three boys laid into him.

"Stop it!" she screamed, caught between running forward to haul Harry away from her cousin, and watching with her fury freezing her, as his words rang in her ears.

It seemed none of them could hear, or at least they didn't want to. Cassius rushed forward from her side, grabbing Harry to haul him off of Draco, and that spurred her on to take a few steps, reaching numbly for her wand.

"Impedimenta!" cried Madam Hooch, and before Aurora could do anything herself, the two were pulled away from each other. Hooch was livid. "What do you think you're doing?"

Potter had a red cheek and bloodied lip; George's lip was swollen, while Fred was being held back by all three Gryffindor Chasers; and Draco was curled up on the pitch in the fetal position, whimpering, his nose bleeding. Aurora's stomach twisted sickly. "Draco's hurt. He's really hurt…"

"Stay back," Cassius said softly, turning her. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," she snapped, turning back to watch Harry and George being sent back to the castle, dragging their brooms behind them. Her heart pounded. "That stupid idiot — why can't he ever just leave things alone? What'd he have to say that for, for Merlin's sake! Talking about Muggles..."

Even as she said it, she was marching towards Draco, who was sitting up, dazed. "Aurora, what—"

"Are you alright?" she asked, hating the panic in her voice as she hauled him to her fight. "Merlin, Draco, what were you thinking, saying all that stuff? How could you — saying all that about Muggles and Potter's mother—"

"He's fine," spat Fred Weasley. "Dramatic wanker."

"He did just get pummelled on the ground."

"Didn't you hear what he said? Foul git!"

"Of course I did, and he shouldn't have—"

"Mr Malfoy, if you are able, you can go to your head of house's office, too," Hooch said. "You'll find your friend Mr Crabbe waiting."

"I didn't do anything!" Draco protested, standing perfectly tall and fine now. "That's nonsense, they attacked me!"

"You were in a fight," Hooch said, "that must still be dealt with. You can give your arguments to Professor Snape, for now I need this pitch cleared. Get Madam Pomfrey to patch you up if you need it. The rest of you, get these balls away."

Angelina protested as Draco shot Aurora an annoyed look and traipsed off to the castle after Potter and Weasley.

Shaking, Aurora handed the Quaffle over to Madam Hooch, who gave her an approving look. With Cassius, she headed back to the changing rooms. The crowd was still howling and jeering around them, but once the noise had dimmed behind the doors, Draco's words came back to ring in her ears.

Your mother's house stank, dragged up by Muggles...

The implication was clear as day. That his mother being muggleborn was seen as a dirty, disgusting thing, that she was inferior and so was Potter, by extension.

What Draco had said wasn't just a way to have a go at Potter; he could have called him any number of names, made any number of comments about what an annoying prick he was, that weren't about his Muggle family, that that weren't about his mother's blood status, that didn't reek of his own ingrained pureblood supremacy. It turned her stomach; Aurora felt like she was drifting through the motions of unlacing her boots, stowing her broom away, changing over her outer robes. Even as Graham and the others filtered in to the room, she couldn't bring herself to join in their chatter, and rushed from the room as soon as she was ready, without sticking around to hear whatever criticisms Graham had of her team.

"Oi," he said, catching sight of her just as she was almost out the door, "where you rushing off to, Black?"

"Draco," she said quickly, shaking herself. "Need to make sure he's alright."

Graham frowned, and in a moment of silence she thought he was going to tell her off. Then, he sighed, and told her, "You played well, Black. Make sure you rest up."

"I will," she said with a wince. "It was a good match, guys. I'll see you all at practice."

Thankfully most of the crowd was gone now, though Ginny Weasley and Hermione Granger were both frantically trying to find Ronald somewhere, and Luna Lovegood was drifting around wearing a hat with a fake lion on top of it, the sight of which was hilarious but also made Aurora want to throw up. She ignored them all, including Hermione's worried look towards her, marching up to the castle and into the dungeons, where the map showed Draco was still in Snape's office.

She lingered outside, listening in. "…Potter's absolutely mental, Professor! Him and Weasley — all the Weasleys — you'd think they'd been brought up by wolves."

"I am well aware of Potter's proclivity for violence," came Snape's low, soft drawl. "I'm sure he will be punished. However, as your Head of House, I do still need to advise that you do not provoke him."

"He's unstable!"

"All the more reason not to provoke him, one would think, Draco?"

Draco grumbled something unintelligible. "You'll be quite alright, now. I suggest you rest up, and take some time to work on your songwriting skills. If I hear of something like this again, I will have to give you a detention."

"Yeah," Draco snorted, "you're gonna make me scrub out cauldrons, are you?"

"Get out, Draco. I don't want to see you here with bad news again."

Aurora shuffled away from the door as she heard Draco's footsteps, and she leaned nonchalantly against the wall, as if she was waiting for him, but wouldn't dare to eavesdrop. Snape cast her a suspicious look when he opened the door, but Draco hurried over to her, eyes bright.

"Did you see what those brutes did to me?" he said with a dramatic flourish, launching into his rant immediately and tugging her towards the common room. "I'm traumatised! But Snape's had a visit from Umbridge and she's suspending Potter and both those Weasley twins from Quidditch, forever!"

"Forever? Can she do that?"

"Obviously, it's not like Fudge is going to deny her anything! They're not going to win anything ever again, not with Weasley playing like that. Can't block a single ring — it's true! And you were brilliant too, I saw how many you scored. Did you like the song? Pansy was conducting."

"Yeah," she said coldly, shaking her head. "Really witty, Draco."

He turned to her, narrowing his eyes suspiciously. "Nothing happened to you, did it? I didn't see you intervene."

"I didn't," she said. "I — I didn't know what to do."

Draco turned back, marching towards the common room. "I can't believe they actually hit me! Who do they think they are?"

"It was... Frightening," Aurora said cautiously, but every sentence he said carried a sneer about Potter and his mother, and by extension Aurora's own mother. The mother who would have probably reacted the same as Potter, that mother who Aurora couldn't help but feel would have been ashamed of her. That mother who had been so, so alive. "I was terrified when I saw you on the ground like that."

"I was terrified! I got a good kick in at Potter though, and I caught Weasley's lip. Not that much could make them any uglier — that would have been a good one to work into the song if they were still playing, I'll have to come up with something else."

"You seem alright now," Aurora said with false levity, "are you?"

"Oh, you know me, I bounce back from anything. Unlike Potter, he's going to be mad about that one for weeks. He's so sensitive; can't take a joke, any of them."

"You were, perhaps… A bit harsh. About his mother. Not that I'm happy they hurt you," Aurora added hastily, to combat his suspicious, betrayed look, "but, well… You did wind him up a bit. Plus, Vincent had already caught him quite badly, which I'm sure didn't help."

Draco scoffed, stopping just short of the stairs, and rounded on her. "Don't be soft, Aurora. Potter just can't take a joke, that was nothing."

"What do you mean, it was nothing? You insulted his dead mother for her blood status, did you somehow not expect him to get upset about that?"

"Well, it's true! She was a mudblood, Aurora—"

"Don't say that!" Aurora snapped, cold and shocked fury bursting inside of her. She wasn't sure he had said such a thing so clearly to her before, with that sneer and that unabashed disgust in his eyes. Her stomach turned, the world around her flipping suddenly. "How can you say that? That word!"

He scoffed, rolling his eyes. Even now he was leaning back, unbothered. Like this meant nothing to him while Aurora was seething beneath the surface. "Aurora, it's time to get real. There's a war coming whether you like it or not. Stop hiding behind this whole moral superiority complex you've got going on. I can say what I want."

"I'm asking you not to. Not just not in front of me. That is a horrible, offensive word, and so many of the other things you say are too."

"Like I'm the only one who says them! Like we haven't both spent all summer with people who do!"

"I haven't! I've been with the MacMillans, the Abbotts, the Vaiseys—"

"Yes well, we all know you have! Who are you even trying to be, Aurora?"

"I'm trying to be myself. To embody what I actually believe in which seems to be rather more at odds with you than I had previously felt."

"What's the problem? The Weasleys are poor, they are blood traitors, and Potter's mother was a mudblood and if you ask me, the world is a damn sight better off without her and people like her!"

The words were a slap that sent Aurora reeling back. She gripped onto the cold stone wall. "And my mother?" she asked hollowly, and he blanched.

"Listen, no one actually knows—"

"I know! Of course I know! Everybody knows! You fucking know, and I'm sick of you pretending otherwise and expecting me to go along with this as if I'm a pureblood and no one will acknowledge why they think I'm still somehow lesser! My mother was a muggleborn, Draco, I'm not bloody covering it up anymore! She was a muggleborn and her name was Marlene McKinnon and she was brilliant and she was killed for the crime of existing and for giving birth to me! And do you know who killed her?"

He paled further as she advanced on him again, fury coursing through her like she had never felt before. "Bellatrix Lestrange. Your aunt. She tried to kill me too, or have you forgotten that?"

"As if she actually matters to you!" he shouted back, with an incredulous expression. "You've spent your whole life pretending she didn't exist and saying you don't have anything to do with her but anyway, you don't know who she is but oh, she's definitely not a mudblood—"

"Stop saying that fucking word!"

"—and then your father shows up, and somehow, you just… Change! Suddenly you have the moral high ground, you're so perfect and good, so much better than any of the rest of us, best friends with Potter and allowing yourself to be around people like Andromeda Tonks, traitors to our family! Blood traitors! But you spent years pretending otherwise, years not saying anything, so don't pretend like you would care if you didn't think this was personal to you!"

"Draco, that's not — that's not fair."

"It's not fair? It's not fair? Do you think it's fair that my oldest friend, my cousin, has suddenly decided she's had enough of me?"

"I haven't decided I've had enough of you, but I just—"

"Do you think it's fair that Potter, my worst enemy, has suddenly decided he has the right to be in your life, that he's going around slandering my father with the fucking Weasleys?"

"Potter doesn't decide anything about my life, thank you very much."

"Yes, he does! Can't you see how he's controlling you, he and your father have worked their way into your head? Ever since they showed up you've gone on this moral mission and I'm sick of it! You're not just wrong, you're insufferable about it!"

"Oh, I'm the insufferable one?"

"Yeah, you are!" he spat out, stepping up towards her, cheeks reddening with bitter fury, "Always feeling sorry for yourself and moping about because you think you've got it so rough! Well, I'm sorry your mum's dead, Aurora, but you didn't actually know her, you didn't even know her name until two years ago, and to be honest, we all think it's bullshit, the way you've been acting lately! Like you aren't one of us, and like you think that's a good thing! Well, guess what? Maybe you aren't! Maybe you can't be anymore, because you think that being half-blood is something to be proud of, well, it's not! You should know better. You know you should know better."

"It's not something I'm proud of," she said, breathing heavily as she tried not to cry, "and it's not something I'm ashamed of either, it's just who I am! It's just the truth! I, Aurora Euphemia Black, Heir to the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black, am a half-blood! And I'm sorry that you don't like that you're not my only family, that I don't have to rely on you for every security, every thought and every emotion, anymore! But your family rejected me first. They rejected me the day I was born!"

"My mum loved you for ten years—"

"They rejected me like they rejected Dora, and Ted, and Andromeda, and my own mum and dad! And your dad?" She turned away, unable to look him in the eye and see those grey irises, the Black family trait that she had never been able to claim. "He tried to kill me, too. When I was a baby, Draco, he tried to kill me because my very existence was vile to him.

"It's not my being a half-blood that makes me different to you. It's not my dad or Potter or anybody else who made me change. It's the fact that your family could never truly claim me. When Lucretia and Ignatius died, your parents could've taken me in, if they really loved me. But they didn't. Because your father didn't want to associate with someone he knew was a halfblood. And I don't know who I would be if I had lived with you, I don't know how things would turn out, and honestly, I don't really know if I have enough faith in my self to think I would be a good person. But now, I hope I would never have turned out to think and behave like you."

Draco stared at her in silence; her own breathing was ragged, her eyes burning with tears and her throat scraped by the words she had flung at him.

"Y-you're lying," Draco said. "About my dad. We only couldn't take you in because — because the Ministry was suspicious of him, for his collection, and he didn't want them to come inspect it. That's all. And he — he doesn't approve of you, but he didn't want to kill you. He would never try to kill you."

"He didn't know me," she reminded him, voice sharp but quiet. "He only knew my father and my mother, and he knew he hated them, because she wasn't a pureblood, and he considered my dad a traitor. He was a Death Eater, Draco. Still is, even if you avoid the subject with me. You know it, as do all the rest of our friends, and I'm not stupid. He was there the night my mother died. The group tried to kill me. I hear his voice when the Dementors get near. I see him in my nightmares, right beside Bellatrix. Your so-called family. Our so-called family. Why would I ever lie about that?"

He had no answer.

"Tell me, Draco, and tell me this honestly. Do you think my mother deserved to die?" He opened and closed his mouth, silent. "Do you think I should have been killed, too?

"Or am I tamed enough, covered up with pureblood niceties and pretty dresses, that you can allow yourself to forget that I'm filthy, too? If you can, it's rather impressive. No one's ever let me forget."

"There's a war coming," Draco spat, "but it can be different from the last, if you pick your side right."

"I'm not siding with you," she sneered, "are you really being so dense? I'm not siding with you and I don't particularly want to side with anyone, I'm afraid to choose anything, but by Merlin, of course I'm not siding with you! I don't know much about myself at the moment, but I know I'm not on the side of someone who thinks others deserve death simply because of the circumstances of their own birth. I'm not on the side on those who look down on people who were not born into the privileges they are, of people who never listen or learn or want to make society a better place for anyone than their own self-serving circle.

"I'm not on your side. I'm not on Potter's either, because he hasn't a clue, or the Ministry or Dumbledore because none of them have done anything to actually enact positive change for the world, so far as I can see. No one uses their power the way that they should. But I'm also on whatever side isn't fucking killing people because of blind, stupid prejudice! I am Lady Black and I don't care what that has meant before, I get to define myself now!

"You're no better than anyone else because of your blood, Draco. The fact you still believe so, and the fact that you would say and do such vile things to others, makes me sick. If you won't listen now, because you never have, then fine. You're not on my side. And I don't want you to be."

He stared at her a moment, face pale, and she wondered if maybe she had gotten through to him. Then he said, "Fine. If that's your choice, then Aurora, to turn you back on me. On your family."

"I am not turning my back on my family—"

"Yes, you are! You're not stupid, you know what you're supposed to represent! My mother has tried for years to help you, to make you presentable, like a proper pureblood, how you should be acting instead of this—"

"Your mother turned me away when I was orphaned!"

"She loves you! We both do!"

"Well you don't show it! You love the image of me that you can project, certainly she does, but you don't love the part of me that is Muggle! You don't love what isn't convenient for you, you just ignore it, pretend that it doesn't exist, and I'm sick of it, and I'm sick of myself for doing it too, for all these years, and sometimes I hate the person that I've been! You've shown quite enough contempt for my heritage!"

"I'd never — never say a word about you or your blood status, Aurora."

"That doesn't matter, Draco. It means the same. I don't want to be the only half-blood you don't look down on. I don't want you to look down on anyone."

"You and I both know there are some people who simply don't belong. You're part of society. Don't throw that away because you're being self-righteous."

"There are plenty in society who agree with me. More than who would agree outright with you and your father and grandfather. I'd rather change it from the outside than do nothing on the inside — but I have my power on the inside and I am going to use it and if that doesn't yet mean changing you, well, I guess we all have to encounter some lost causes."

"You don't know anything, Aurora. What are you actually capable of, what have you actually done, huh? You're no better than the rest of us, you're just frightened and trying to save your own skin, and somehow you've twisted your morals around to make you think that makes you brave, but you know what, I reckon you could get yourself killed if you say this shit to anybody but me, you know that?"

"I'm not. I could say the same about you, mouthing off about people the way you do."

"They deserved it."

"They didn't and you know it. Schoolground banter is one thing, but that was quite another—"

"Oh, take his side, yes! Perfect Potter, famous Potter, well, he's not so famous now, is he? You'll regret siding with him!"

"I'm not siding with Potter—"

"Yes, you are! He's — he hates me, Aurora! He's my nemesis, and you, what, you're suddenly best pals?"

"He's actually not awful once you try getting along with him. And he has never insulted people the way you do. I hate to say it, Draco, I really do." Her voice trembled, years of unsaid words boiling over. "I so badly want you to be better than him. I so badly want to be able to say, in good conscience, that you're a better person than he is. I want to say that you've changed, like I've changed — because, yeah, I have changed, and that is a good thing! But I can't say that. I can't fool myself into believing it. Not anymore, I — I just can't, for my own sanity."

"Fuck off," he hissed, face contorted in a scowl. "You've made your choice — if you want to be a little blood traitor then so be it! But don't come crawling to me when it all comes crashing down and they abandon you, or your side loses, because they will! And who will you have then? If you push us away?"

"I'll have myself," she said coldly, "because I know the likes of your father would never accept me anyway. And I don't want them to."

Draco let out a scoff. "Yes, you do. Don't lie to yourself. All you want is for other people to think you're brilliant, for everyone to sit and worship at your knee. It's pathetic, Aurora — you just want everyone to think you're perfect, you think that'll keep you safe. You think you're better than everyone — you think you're smarter, kinder, braver, sneakier. And you'll blame anyone but yourself for the way you ruin your own life. You've hardly spoken to any of us, you know — because you think you're too good for me and Pansy and all the rest, now that you've got Potter and your perfect new family."

"Excuse me?" Her whole body seemed to have gone cold. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"That you are the one who doesn't care! You'll always pretend to, because you think you have to, but you don't really! When was the last time we had a proper conversation, when you actually reached out to talk to me!"

"Oh, as if I'm really one of you! As if I've ever been, and Lucille and Millie haven't always had a little bit of doubt, as if Greg and Vince think of me as equal!"

"Who gives a shit what Crabbe and Goyle think? You've always been — you were my best friend?"

Her voice reached a shatteringly high pitch. "Were?"

Draco paled and took a step back, but kept resolute. "Yes, Aurora. Were. Don't act like you haven't been avoiding me all term."

"I haven't been — if I have been more distant, it's because of the way you've been acting, and talking about people, because you know the world is changing and you know that the world we both come from does not truly have a place for me and you will ignore it instead of doing anything about it!"

"And what do you want me to do? Chuck in everything I know and everything my family has taught me, for you?"

"I would have done it for you!" Her voice came out near to a scream, hysterical and pained and exhausting. "You think if my father wanted you dead, I would stand with him, that I would let someone kill you, no matter how upset I was with you personally? You think if anyone wanted you dead that I wouldn't fight every single one of them to protect you, because I love you and I still do even if I'm furious and it hurts so, so badly!"

The doubt in his eyes shattered her.

"Please," Aurora whispered, voice torn on the edge of a sob. She stepped closer, tried to clasp his hands. "For once in your life, Draco, listen to me."

"No, Aurora." He wrenched his grip away from her. "No, you never stop bloody talking — you listen to me. You can't turn all your own problems round and blame me. You can't just ignore me, and then say it's because you don't think you're one of us! Don't you know how much I've worked to make sure that you are? To convince everyone that you're worthy, that you're as brilliant as you are? Have you forgotten how much you owe to my family — our family? You wouldn't be on the Quidditch team without my father, you wouldn't know a thing about fashion and society if it weren't for my mother, and you wouldn't have ever had any friends if it weren't for me introducing you in first year. You're nothing without us, without your family. You can't be Lady Black alone."

"I'm not alone."

Draco sneered and the dismissal in his eyes was enough to knock Aurora backwards. "You seem pretty determined to be. Potter and your father don't count. They don't mean anything, not to society, and not to me. And Potter still doesn't like you, I see that, and he and his mates definitely don't trust you. They're never going to trust you, you're never going to be one of them. If you want to alienate every person of consequence, fine. I'm done with trying to help you, and having it thrown in my face. You'll realise soon, Aurora. It's time to get real."

"I've been struggling to fit for years, Draco, my whole life! I have done everything expected of someone of my standing and beyond! I have tried to be perfect, to be the best, to fit the exact mould of a young pureblood witch, to be something that I am plainly not, and not allowed to be! I have tried to be what everyone in my life wants me to be and I have been pulled in so many directions, and for what? For the people I love the most to decide they don't care, because I'm imperfect?" Tears fell from her, burning. "Because I have opinions. Because I want you to be better, because I believe in you Draco and all I've ever wanted is for you to understand that you can be a better person than you are!"

"So now I'm not a good person?"

"No, you're not!" The words had escaped her before she could stop herself, and with one fell shriek, she knew she had struck Draco too hard. "Draco, I'm sorry—"

"Don't lie to me," he cut her off sharply, aghast. "You're not sorry, you've never been truly sorry in your life because you think you've nothing to apologise for."

"That isn't true!"

"Isn't it? You want me to tell you I'm sorry, to change to be the person you want me to be, the very same thing you're upset with me for supposedly doing to you, right? Well, if you don't think there's a place for you with my friends, I know there certainly isn't one for me with your so-called family!"

"There could be. They wouldn't turn you away. I wouldn't. If you only—"

"If I only what? Turn my back on my own family?"

"I'd never ask that of you," she cried, the words tearing from her throat. "Because I know how hard it is, Draco! I just ask you not to turn your back on me, to think with your own mind instead of your father's, and these things can co-exist! You can love your family and still think they're wrong, you can make your own choices!"

"Unles that family is you, right? Cause you don't think I can love you as much as I do while still thinking you're in the wrong here."

"That's not — I don't—"

"You don't know what you think, Aurora, do you? You're just trying to be important, because you're fed up of leeching off of other people's status all your life!"

Holding back tears, Aurora managed to say, "I can't do this, Draco." Her heart was leaden in her chest, but she couldn't bear to listen another moment. It took all her strength to keep from bursting into sobs and collapsing from the exhaustion of this argument, and of everything that had built up to it. "We're just going back and forth and round in circles… I'm sorry, if I've made you feel distant from me, but I can't be the person you want me to be. I can't keep fitting nicely into the role you try to cast me in, Draco, I can't! I'm not that person anymore! And I don't want to be! I don't want this! I just want it all to stop!"

Her cousin met her eyes. The grey of all their family, that soft and silvery shade. His eyes did not show any sign of tears, only a harsh and cold anger. Perhaps he showed his tears another way, she thought, perhaps his anguish felt the same as hers on the inside and she simply could not see him as she should have been able to. But knowing her own torment, the shattering in her heart and tearing of her chest, and seeing none of that reflected in her cousin, hurt more than any of the rest.

She knew he loved her; she knew she had to hold onto that hope and knowledge. But she also knew that love had been broken, and that it could never be the same, or as simple as it had been when they were children.

"I think we're done then," Draco said evenly, "if you won't listen to reason."

I don't want us to be done, she wanted to scream, but she couldn't. Not when all that would achieve was a return to more of the same, and more of the pain.

Her lip trembled. She could hardly speak, just managing to say, "Alright, then."

Her cousin swept past her without another word, and when he was gone, Aurora sagged against the wall, slid to the cold stone floor, and burst into tears. The pain that tore through her then was the pain of an ending, of finally hitting the brick wall when one has tried for so long to push onwards. It was the pain of inevitability, and of irreversibility. This moment had been coming for a while now, and maybe was not a moment at all, but the ending of a long motion of destruction. A thousand terrible utterings and heartbreaks had led to this, after dozens of stubborn refusals and ignorances which built into simmering resentments.

Aurora buried her head in her hands and wept. It was not just her heart that was shattering but her whole life, a glass fantasy which she had been trying to hold together for so long despite its fragility. That fantasy, of a world where she and Draco were truly allowed to be equals, and where they could co-exist, had always been destined for destruction. And maybe she had played her part, she thought through heaving sobs, maybe she had started rolling the wrecking ball when she had called him out in second year, or when they had fought in third year, or maybe in the quiet moments when she distanced herself from an uncomfortable comment, when she chose Gwen or Theodore or Robin or Leah over Draco. Maybe she was too stubborn, too unwieldy, or perhaps uncaring, as he said. Perhaps she did not know how to care in the right way that would fix things.

But, Merlin, she thought, she didn't even know what the right way was anymore, if there even was one. Aurora pulled her knees to her chest and tried to hold herself together, rocking back and forth. She had to force herself to keep breathing through the messy onslaught of tears and fire. She loved Draco but she hated what he was becoming and what they had allowed their friendship to be reduced to. There were a million things that had gone wrong, that had ruined them, each one as minute and yet impossible to change as the next.

And she did not know where to go from here. Part of her thought nowhere, that without Draco, without the solidity of their friendship and all that entailed, without the knowledge and comfort that she was wanted, that she was needed, she was nothing, and had no place anywhere but in hell. Hadn't Draco said the same? She needed him far more than he needed her, and it pained her to think it but it also felt impossible to believe otherwise, because how could she be so broken and he be so fine, if that were not the case? How could she, Lady Black, have broken her careful sculpting so well that she could no longer piece herself back together, that she was a wreck of tears and sweat and muddy robes on the floor, unwilling to move and uncertain if she'd even survive standing up.

She wanted to move. She wanted to run, and run, and run, until Hogwarts was a speck in the distance and she was free and no one would have to see her again; she would never again have to know the pain of being seen and not heard. She wanted to be forgotten and yet her heart clamoured for validation.

No, she could not run, but she wanted to. She tried to stand and twisted around and broke out with a grunt of frustration, slamming a hand against the wall. The flames in the sconces flickered, and leapt dangerously.

From here, half-standing, her vision was tilted strangely and blurry with tears. Aurora squeezed her eyes shut, as if that would end it all, end her. But she was still breathing, rapid and shallow, choking over sobs and splinters of her life. She could not run from this and she could not back down either, not anymore. For she knew that as much as this hurt, if she let it continue, all would be even worse and that eventually this would happen again, and again, until she was nothing more than a broken doll, pieces of porcelain left on a shelf and forgotten, used as a cautionary tale for little girls, about the dangers of wanting to be heard.

It felt like being trapped, met with the finality of the knowledge that there was no way out now. They both had crossed lines and relaid boundaries and now, she felt, they would never again be able to reach each other as they once had.

He was a crucial part of her and he had fallen away from her. But she couldn't get him back. She didn't even want to try, because it would just keep hurting, keep splintering until they reached breaking point again, because he would never listen. For as long as she kept forgiving him, he would never change.

This was an ending that hurt, and she knew that it would continue to hurt for a long time yet; but it was an ending that she knew she needed, too.