Aurora only wound up going to lunch that day because Gwen insisted that she would be hungry and therefore grumpy the rest of the day if she did not. She knew he was right, and also that she would only feel worse if she kept avoiding people for fear of lashing out again. Besides, having her friends still at her side steadied her somewhat.
That was, until Snape came stalking down the aisle to the Slytherin Table and demanded that she join him in his office in half an hour. Despite Theo's offer to come with er and plead her case, Aurora knew there was nothing she could do to change Snape's mind about the week of detention he had assigned her for a 'vicious attack on a fellow student' in front of 'no fewer than seventeen witnesses'.
The detentions begun the next night, scrubbing out cauldrons in the Potions classroom. As she was walking there on her way back from dinner, already in a tremendously bad mood from Pansy's attempts to apologise fifteen times and the fact that she would have to deal with Snape for a whole two hours, Harry Potter appeared out of thin air in front of her, outside Moaning Myrtle's bathroom.
She started, jumping back. "For goodness' sake, Potter, will you stop doing that?"
"It's fun," he said with a shrug, whisking his Invisibility Cloak off and stuffing it into his pocket. "I need to talk to you about Elise."
"And you couldn't have sent me a note like a normal person?"
"I was going to but you looked like you were going to set a napkin on fire at lunch."
"The napkins here are ugly." She sighed and fell into step beside him. "You said you wanted to talk about Elise? I assume you saw the Daily Prophet."
"I spoke to Elise earlier and she's really upset." Something bitter and uncomfortable twisted inside Aurora, the idea that Elise sought comfort from Harry as well as from her, that she might have been more expressive with him than with Aurora. "We've got to do something about Rita Skeeter."
"As a matter of fact, I agree." She took a deep breath, checking there was no one around them, and said in a whisper, "I've found out she's an Animagus. And unregistered, which means I don't know what form she takes, but that's how she gets onto school grounds undetected. Draco's been in contact with her and I just need to get her form out of him, or someone else."
"An Animagus?" Harry echoed, eyes wide. "That makes sense — oh, I gotta tell Hermione about this."
"Do." She sighed, squeezing her eyes shut. "I don't really know what to do, but I'm going to come up with some sort of plan. Blackmail, causing her to use the use of her hands, cutting Draco's tongue out…"
"You said Dracos spoken to her? Does he have something to do with that article?"
She let out a dark laugh. "Oh, yes. In fact he gave her a statement, very cleverly labelled as anonymous." Aurora scowled, scuffing her shoe over a loose stone on the floor.
"The git! I should have known! Did he tell you?"
"Of course he didn't tell me. I worked it out and he told Pansy and Theo who told me and then…"
"Then?"
"Well, then I earned myself a weeks worth of detention for hexing him in the common room."
"You hexed him?"
He didn't even try to hide his delight. "Yes," Aurora snapped, "and I wish I'd gone further, frankly. But that's not the point, the point is I need to find out what kind of animal Skeeter is and then build a plan."
"Organised. The detention isn't with Umbridge, is it?"
She shook her head. "Just Snape. Cauldron scrubbing. Gross, but easy." She bit her lip, uncertain. "So, Elise came to talk to you?"
"Yeah, she was upset. Didn't really know how to react, and it's absolute bullshit that this happened anyway. I wasn't really good at helping her, but I think she's alright now."
"Right." Elise had sought Harry out. Instead of her. Even though they'd already spoken, it made her both guilty and, to her horror, jealous. "Good. That's good."
Harry eyed her carefully. "Are you alright—"
"I have to go to detention," she said quickly, annoyed by the look in his eye. "Tell Hermione about Skeeter, maybe she can figure something out that I can't. I'll see you later." She got a few steps away before stopping herself, groaning, and turning back around. "Oh, and by the way, expect an invitation to the MacMillans' Hogmanay Party. You should accept, Leah says it'll be a good night."
"I'm not going to a stupid party!"
"I am!"
"That's not convincing me to go."
She smirked at him. "You never know, you might meet people who actually like you there. If you manage to smile, that is."
He scowled as she turned back around, heading towards the dungeons. "Enjoy detention!"
"I won't have you around, so it'll be an improvement on that front!"
To her annoyance, he followed her another few steps, appearing at her side. "Take the hint, Potter."
"I invited Elise to our… Club," he said in a hush.
"You're still going ahead with that?"
"Well, it's good to learn to defend ourselves. Elise seemed like she thought it was worthwhile. And you know, you can join too, if you want. The invitation's always there."
The idea turned over in her mind. It was dangerous and rebellious, but a part of her craved that now, too, and if Elise was a part of it, she felt something of a duty to help her out. "Maybe," she said, "but I'm not in the mood for more detentions."
"We're actually really good about not being found out."
"I'll think about it," she said firmly, not wanting him to press her further. "But I really do have to go. Thanks, Potter."
His smile didn't seem as forced as she would have liked. It was genuine, and she hated it. But at least it wasn't pitying. "See you in class, Aurora."
"You, too."
-*
The next day of classes were truly wretched. The battle lines of Slytherin House were drawn even more sharply than they had been before, Millie and Lucille downright glaring at Pansy and Aurora, and Daphne locked in the middle, the last straggler lurking around either Theo or Lucille, depending on unknown and invisible factors. Draco stayed whispering to Vincent and Greg, shooting vindictive glared across the classroom or along the table. Of course, that she had gained Pansy and eventually Daphne as defectors made Draco all the more annoyed with Aurora, who was quietly pleased with his anger and also concerned at how he might take it out next.
Despite her friend's display of loyalty, Pansy didn't say much to Aurora throughout the day, until they reached dinner and she insisted on sitting alone with her. From the way she kneaded her hands together, her face twisted in a frown, Aurora knew there was a reason, and she knew Pansy was serious about it.
"Listen," Pansy said, starting to cut into a chicken thigh, then stopping herself. She pressed her mouth into a thin line before continuing, "I'm really sorry about what Draco did."
"You didn't know," Aurora said stiffly, taking a few slices of lamb for herself. "We established that."
"I should have realised he'd react more. And I should have told you he'd spoken to Skeeter in the first place, but I just didn't want to ruin anything and I know that was stupid, and obviously didn't work anyway. He didn't tell me what happened, I mean, the details of the argument. Theo told me the truth yesterday, or at least what you told him—"
"What I told Theo is the truth, Pansy."
"No, no, I know that, I just meant that he told me what you said to him. That's all. It sounds like Draco was really out of order."
"He was."
"Yeah." Pansy swallowed tightly, readjusted her skirt. Aurora stared at the table, distinctly uncomfortable. "I'm really sorry for what he said. It isn't what all of us think, and I would never have said those things about your mother, and I don't condone him saying them. I've missed you, and I've been trying so hard to hold all our friendships together, and I thought that this was fixable."
"Well, it's not. And I'm fed up of me always having to be the one to reach out and fix things when Draco's in the wrong."
"I'm sorry for that too." Somehow all the apologies just annoyed Aurora more, but she bit back her scathing comment. "I'm trying my best."
"So am I, Pans! Trying to stop myself from losing my mind and my reputation because my own cousin has decided to hate me for having an opinion of my own."
"He doesn't hate you."
"Well he certainly isn't acting as though he loves me."
"I know, I know. Look, I don't know how to tell you that I am sorry. For what happened and for how I responded. It wasn't fair of me."
"Yeah, you're right, it wasn't."
"But I know that and I want to still be your friend and I want to do better by you. I'm not going to just hang about with Draco when he's hurting you."
Aurora knew Pansy had a duty to her family, that she didn't have as much of a choice as she wanted her to, when it came to Draco. But she didn't say it. She wanted to keep Pansy like this, making promises, and she wanted to imagine that she might keep those promises.
"I can't fully stop being around him. When I argued with him, he said that, you know. We are basically engaged to be engaged and everything and with things the way they are with — well, you know. But that doesn't mean I can't have my own opinion and my own friends, and I do think, or hope, that my parents will understand that and support me too. But I have to be both."
Aurora wished that she didn't understand, and wished that Pansy would see why. Being both wasn't enough. Being a friend to both her and Draco simply was not sustainable anymore, whether it was a matter of Pansy's personal opinion or just because she had to abide by her parents' rules.
"I'm glad you want to stick by me," she said carefully, "but I don't know if you can be my friend and Draco's."
"It's not that I support him, I just have to stick with him."
"I know, but… It still feels wrong."
"I don't have much of a choice, Aurora. I wish I did. But, if I can still talk to Draco then maybe I can show him why he's wrong, I can fix things."
"Some things are beyond fixing," Aurora said with a sigh. "I appreciate what you're trying to say, Pansy, I just don't think it's right."
Pansy swallowed tightly, pushed her plate away from her so that it scraped over the table. Aurora winced. "What is right then? What is it you want from me?"
The bitterness and frustration in her voice made Aurora's own flare up, her chest burin as she took a deep breath, trying to remain calm. She didn't want to fight with Pansy, she knew her friend meant well. But the conversation was still exhausting.
"I don't know, Pansy! But what you can give me is something you have to figure out myself. Because you know I want you to cast Draco aside for what he did and stay with me and just choose me, stay by my side. And I know that's not practical, I know it might endanger you and I don't want to have to ask it of you, Pansy, but I also can't bring myself to just let this lie because you find it difficult to go against your parents."
"Like you would have gone against anything Lord Arcturus told you to do," Pansy scoffed back, eyes flashing, and the words were a knife to Aurora's heart. "I'm sorry — I didn't mean to bring him up, but you know—"
"I grew up," she said, struggling to control her voice as a cold, desperate nausea twisted around her throat. "I learned. I became more than my surname and that's why I know how difficult this is Pansy, that's why I don't want to ask you to put yourself in danger but that's also why I have to."
"I don't want to be mean."
"I know that too."
They had always been too similar, after all. That had brought them together even when their differences had made them look odd; they shared their sharp tongues and big dreams and a desire to please, to be perfect daughters, perfect purebloods.
"I don't know how to do this," Pansy admitted in a small voice. "It's easy for you, having a father who wants you to turn your back on your childhood, having people who support you. If I spurn Draco now, my whole family is in danger and they'll never forgive me."
And Aurora wasn't family. At the end of the day that was what it came down to, and she had always known it.
"I know he's in the wrong! I know that my parents aren't right about everything, and I know what's coming and I don't want it, Aurora. But I don't have a choice right now. I don't have power. I'm their fifteen year old daughter and all I am is my father and the man I'm supposed to marry and I don't know how to be more than that even though I want to."
"That doesn't mean I can't want you to just stand by me. I know it's not that simple but I have always valued your loyalty and I — I really need it, Pansy."
"I am loyal to you, Aurora!"
"But you're also loyal to your parents and Draco and I know that, I have known that all along and those loyalties aren't compatible with loyalty to me and they will always come first!" The words slipped from her, sharp and angry, and she had to bite her lip, clutching the edge of the table with white knuckles. There were so many people around, people with watching eyes and listening ears, and she couldn't say too much, couldn't be too expressive. She swallowed the bitter words in her throat and said, "I don't think either of us see a way out of this in the long term."
"I'll be your friend. I'll always be your friend, your best friend. But if you won't let me, what am I meant to do?"
"I don't know," Aurora bit out. "Don't, I suppose."
The hurt on Pansy's face was inevitable, and startling. "I love you, Aurora. You're my best friend."
"I know," she said, even though it hurt. "But that just isn't enough. I need you to support me."
"I do, but I have to be with Draco! This is bigger than you, Aurora."
"Yes, it is," she hissed, "it's about right and wrong and it's about a war on the horizon and you know it as well as I do!"
"You know what side I have to be on!"
"You don't have to! Theo isn't, Theo has found a way to be my friend—"
"Well Theo's an idiot," Pansy snapped. "And he's naive. But I'm going to be your friend whether you like it or not, and I'm going to have to still act like I'm happy with Draco."
"And are you happy? You know, how far do you actually disagree with what he said, about me and my mother and Elise?"
"I disagree completely!"
"I don't know if I believe you."
"I think he was wrong to say what he did about your mother. To call her a mud- that word." The hesitation felt disingenuous. Felt wrong. "To say she deserved it, that anyone deserved it, it's horrible, and hurting you by talking to Skeeter was really, really messed up. I know that. But I need to talk to my parents."
Aurora swallowed tightly and forced herself to take a bite of her dinner, which was now cold. It tasted like cardboard anyway. "Of course," she said softly, reaching for her satchel. "That's sensible of you. Run everything by your parents."
"Don't talk down—"
"I have to go."
"Dinner's barely even started, Aurora."
"Well, I'm not taking this conversation any further here. There are too many people, and we're getting nowhere."
"Aurora I want to fix things—"
"Not everything can be fixed. Not right now, and not by us." Her eyes blaring with tears, Aurora looked away. Her hand tightened around her satchel strap. "Just leave it, please. I have to get to detention anyway."
"That isn't until half five."
"I've got work to do beforehand."
"You've barely eaten. I don't like you avoiding me."
"And I don't like you still dating my blood supremacist cousin and yet claiming to be my best friend!"
"I don't have a choice! I am your best friend!"
"No, you're not! A best friend wouldn't do this, a best friend wouldn't hide Draco talking to Skeeter for the last year from me, a best friend wouldn't immediately take his side every single time, and I know this might not be your choice, but I don't want to have a best friend who can't act like it!"
"So you just want me to do and say whatever you want, like I don't have other responsibilities?"
"I know I can't ask that of you, Pansy, I just wish that I could."
Pansy bit her tongue, looking away furiously. "I know how Draco's been talking to Skeeter, by the way. I can tell you what Animagus form she has."
"You — you know that?"
"Well, Draco told me. Showed me."
"You've seen her? You were that close and you — did you talk to her?"
"No, I didn't I swear!"
"You didn't think to warn me in case she tried to spy on me?"
"So you want to know or not?" Pansy snapped, glaring at her.
Aurora swallowed her anger and her pride and forced herself to ask, "Fine. What is she?"
"A beetle," Pansy said softly, "a blue one. It has darker marks around the eyes, like her glasses."
"Right." It didn't relieve her at all, nor did it endear Pansy to her. Somehow it only made her more angry. "Thanks."
She snatched her bag up.
"I'm trying to help you, Aurora—"
"Thanks," she repeated, voice more venomous. "But that doesn't fix this."
She stood up and stormed away, before Pansy could even reply. By the time she reached the double doors at the end of the Great Hall and turned around, Lucille and Millie had already swooped in to take her place, whispering to Pansy, begging for scraps of gossip.
"Bitches," she muttered under her breath, and stormed out.
-*
Thankfully, there was only a week and a half left of term before the Christmas holidays. Pansy still hung out with Aurora and her friends, but was quiet and sullen, things stuff between them, which everybody seemed painfully aware of. She did have Daphne to talk to when things got uncomfortable between everybody else, but with that and the general tension of the Slytherin House, Aurora found herself wishing for the end of term to come even sooner.
The morning of the final day of classes, Aurora was woken by Pansy's voice outside her door, which immediately set her on edge. "Aurora," she called, knocking insistently. Gwen groaned and threw a pillow across the room. "Snape wants to see you. Aurora?"
"Kill me now," she muttered. "I'll be ten minutes," she yelled. Pansy did not respond, but it sounded like her footsteps receded. Aurora sighed, stretching out before forcing herself to crawl out from under her covers into the draughty room. She got ready quickly, still straightening her tie as she rushed down the corridor to the near-deserted common room. It was still fairly early, but Pansy was the prefect on duty, and Snape must have had to fetch her for something. Aurora couldn't think of anything she had done to warrant a summons to her Head of House's office, which could only mean something bad had happened outside of Hogwarts, to a family member.
The walk reminded her of that fateful day in first year when Snape had called her to his office, after Ignatius and Lucretia died, and the thought made her heart pound with nervous fury. Her hands shook as she knocked on the door, thinking something had happened to her father or Dora or Andromeda or Ted, perhaps even to Remus or to one of Elise's family. After the last few weeks it all felt so much more inevitable that someone she loved would get hurt.
"Come in," Snape's voice said, and she did not waste a moment shoving the door open and hurrying in, a lump already forming in her throat.
"What's happened? Is everything okay, Professor, why have you called me here?"
He met her gaze with a bored glare. "Close the door behind you, Black, surely you were raised with better manners than that." She did so, fury flaring quickly at his unbothered tone.
Once the door was closed she asked, "So what has happened? Is it my father? Is it…"
"Sit down, Black. Your father is fine — mostly."
Considering Snape would rather her father dead in a ditch, this did not reassure her at all. Nausea clutched at her, strangling, as she forced herself into a seat.
"What do you mean mostly?"
"He has a brood of Weasley children to content with, and Potter, which would be enough to drive even more stable men mad."
So not dead, not dying. She ignored the dig in favour of asking, impatient, "So what has happened?"
"Don't forget your manners. I am your professor."
He was toying with her, the sick bastard. Chest tight, she asked through gritted teeth, "What has happened, sir?"
He paused a moment, his eyes gleaming with sick pleasure, before saying, "Arthur Weasley has been attacked at the Ministry of Magic while on guard duty." Her stomach turned. "He is stable, and being treated in St. Mungo's Hospital. His children, and Mr. Potter, who witnessed the attack via dream," he sneered, and Aurora itched for her wand, "are being babysat by your father at the Order Headquarters. Headmaster Dumbledore thought it sensible to inform you of this development as soon as possible, to prevent undue speculation or unwelcome news from house elves or family portraits. Miss Granger will also be informed this morning, and you will both be able to visit when you return for the holidays tomorrow evening."
As if she should need permission to visit her own house. She knew he really only meant that she would be able to leave the school, which Dumbledore was within his rights to control, but Snape took a sort of glee in telling her this, which she despised. "I see. Thank you for informing me, sir. You said Harry saw the attack in a dream?"
"I cannot expand," he said silkily, and she was sure he had only said anything to annoy her. "I would thank you not to contribute to any speculation on the matter."
"Of course not, sir." As if she was stupid enough to go shouting about Arthur Weasley being attacked. "Is that all?"
Snape nodded. "While I have you, though, Black, I do suggest you pay a visit to Professor Dumbledore's office this evening. I believe he would like a final conversation to end the term."
She had missed the last two scheduled sessions with the Headmaster; the first because of detentions, the second because he was busy, though with what she did not know. "Alright. Thank you, sir."
She was only marginally calmer leaving than she was going in. At least her father was alright, physically, her family were all safe. Arthur Weasley might not be, but Snape made it sound like he would recover well, and she dearly hoped that it was so. Potter's dream was concerning though. He had had dreams before, of course, of the Dark Lord, but she hadn't known of any instance where he had witnessed an actual attack in real time, or at least not one that he had recognised as such. He must have been terrified, she thought; they all must have.
After a quick dinner with Theo and Leah, Aurora headed to Dumbledore's office with no small degree of apprehension, having waved off their attempts to study with her when she said she was going to hide out in the library all evening. Theo seemed somewhat disbelieving of the manner in which she did this, but she assured him she was fine and not going to obsess over her homework by herself, and he was at least partially satisfied with this.
Dumbledore wasted little time beyond offering her the usual complimentary sherbet lemon in the office. "I trust Professor Snape has informed you of Arthur Weasley's condition?"
"He has," she said, absently taking her notes out of her satchel. "He's still stable, yes?"
"So I understand. Arthur is expected to make a full recovery. Now, I know that the plan for the holidays was originally that the Weasley children would stay with their parents at the Burrow, but given the turn of events, it had been more convenient last night and today to have them on hand in London and cared for by your father. If you are happy for that continue, we would be grateful."
She nodded. "My father shouldn't have to stay there though." Dumbledore tilted his head, and she said, feeling rather like she was stating the obvious, "He hates the family home. He's very uncomfortable there and I don't want him to feel like he is trapped. Plus, we had plans for a small family Christmas. I think we would all benefit from some privacy, when we can afford it."
"I will see what I can arrange. I'm sure many other Order members will be happy to take care of the children when their mother has to attend to her husband in hospital."
Somehow the way he said it made it seem like he thought she was selfish for asking, like she should appreciate more the situation te Weasleys were in. Of course she wanted them to be cared for, but she also had to worry about her own father, and it wasn't fair for Dumbledore to put all the burden and expectation on him.
"Hermione Granger has also requested to stay with the Weasleys for the break."
"She can keep her room with Ginny from the summer," Aurora said with a nod, "it seems simple enough."
"Very good. Well then, now we have those points of business out of the way, I thought we might revise your learning over the course of the semester."
"Actually, sir, I wondered if I could discuss some research of my own with you first? Relating to curses."
Dumbledore's mouth pinched in an irate line. "Go on, Miss Black."
Ever since she had put it together that her uncle had annotated Hydrus Black's blessing, she had had the idea that he had somehow used it swirling around in her head. Its actual effect, or effects, were various and she had a feeling she had yet to realise many of them, but it made sense in her head now, or at least the foundations did.
"I've been doing some reading on potential family curses in my line, and from a recent manuscript, I think I may have an indication that my Uncle, Regulus Black, used an enchantment upon me which was also used by Hydrus Black, the First." The headmaster nodded slowly, but she could read the unease on his face. "This is a copy of that enchantment, with notes. It was intended to protect his children from being killed by one another, a preventative measure. It seems my uncle may have attempted to make some alterations, but his notes here are incomplete. But, do you think that this blessing, could be related to the protection places upon me which prevented the curse from Bellatrix Lestrange from taking hold?"
"I would not rule it out."
"See, the original blessing was to include an oath, taken by each of Hydrus' three sons, which I've had confirmed they did." Julius and the other snakes had finally come in handy. "They had to promise that they would not harm each other. But I highly doubt the same could be used in this scenario, because obviously Bellatrix was not going to swear that, and I was a baby. Whether or not it means that I also cannot harm her, remains to be seen. If it is the same spell used, and of course, that is still dependent on how long Regulus' magic has stuck and what other modifications he made. But knowing what you do about the Transmogrifian Curse and coursework in general, do you think it's possible?"
Dumbledore considered her for a moment in a long and steady silence, before eventually saying, "I did not want to discuss the curse with you, Aurora. Its effects are many—"
"I know that," she cut him off, "but I can't find anything else that'll help me and you have a duty to do so, do you not? If nothing else, a moral one? I need to understand, it could save my life. And it could, if circumstances come to it, save us the war."
"I do not know any definite answer, Miss Black. And do not mistake me, I do wish that I did. However." He sighed, lacing his fingers together. "I do believe that some magic has power even from beyond the grave. May I see the paper you have before you?"
It was one of the copies of the blessing. She slid it over hesitantly, defensive unease itching beneath her skin, and watched as Dumbledore read. She jiggled her leg under the table, thrumming with nervous energy, until he glanced up and she stilled herself, forcing a smile. "Well?"
"Ritualistic magic does tend to have a more enduring hold over time than our simple, wand-cast spells, that is true. And I can see the appeal of believing that a blessing such as this, with its relation to your family history, might have been cast to protect you, too. It would make perfect sense. The Transmogrifian Curse is unlike many others, in that its hold is permanent. It may be dormant for some time, but its effects haunt the victims, on the rare occasion that they live. And the only explanation for a baby surviving it, is some other protection. But protections take many forms. It is a convenient explanation, but you must not take it for granted."
"But Regulus wrote notes. See here, in the margins, that's his handwriting, I'm sure of it, I've compared it to other fragments."
"That does not mean he used it. I do not say this to dissuade or discourage you, Miss Black, but to encourage caution. However, if I were to interpret these notes, I would say he was preoccupied with finding a way to replicate the blessing without its limitations. That does not mean he used it on you. That the spell protects body and spirit… It seems he wanted the soul to give endurance to it. The body dies, the spirit renews, but the soul always remains." He raised his eyebrows, and sighed. "Whether he succeeded, I do not know. Though I do wonder — was your uncle interested in soul magic?"
The question surprised her, but she shrugged. "I don't know. Perhaps. My father said he claimed he could see souls, but I don't know how true that was, or how it impacted his interests."
"I see." She could practically see his mind turning that over, as if it were a greatly exciting piece of evidence for a case she had yet to be informed of.
"Does that change things, sir?"
He shook his head. "No. No, not on this matter."
"Something else, then?"
"I do not know. It is merely interesting. Forgive an old man's curiosity — if there is anything I have learned as headmaster, it is that we rarely know enough about our students, and only learn their true selves when they leave us. I am afraid there is little I can contribute to your question right now, but I shall see if there is anything I can learn over the winter break. The blessing has historical merit, if nothing else." He slid the parchment back over to her and, disappointed, but with a renewed determination to see her suspicions recognised, she tucked it away in her pocket. "If that is all, then we had best get onto Alchemy. The time hurries onwards and I do not think Professor Umbridge would like to see you out after curfew, especially with me."
"Thank you, sir," she said, not meaning it at all. She forced a smile. "Let's continue, then."