"Mass breakout from Azkaban?" Gwen read over Aurora's shoulder at breakfast on the second morning back at school. Across the table, Theodore's brow twitched, and he glanced up. "Antonin Dolohov, Augustus Rookwood, Bellatrix Lestrange…"
Aurora snatched the Prophet back before she even knew what she was doing. Her gaze fixated on the woman in the photograph, finding an alarming familiarity in the tilt of her brow and line of her jaw and the eyes, those eyes she had seen so many times and on so many people. Arrogant, disdainful; with a bath and a haircut, she could have been Aurora, in a certain moment. With a smile, she could have been Andromeda. The thought turned her stomach.
"Are they all… You know?"
"Convicted as such, yes," Aurora said, afraid to say the words out loud. Theodore was staring at his own copy of the Prophet, face stony. His own father was listed as one of the escapees, convicted for the torture and murder of seven muggleborn schoolchildren.
At the bottom of the page, it read, as though a mere footnote: Peter Pettigrew, 36, was also found dead in his open Azkaban cell. The Ministry suspects he was murdered by one, or more, of last night's escapees; though their exact motive is unclear, it is possible that it was an act of vengeance, as Pettigrew mistakenly led He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named to his death, or for his intentional framing of Sirius Black, cousin of fellow escapee Bellatrix Lestrange.
Why her father had to be mentioned — in any sensible press, at least — was beyond Aurora, as was the phrasing of 'fellow escapee' as though he had anything to do with the co-ordination of this. But of course, the Daily Prophet was not sensible. It did not escape her notice, either, that the Prophet said so explicitly that the Dark Lord was dead, and yet avoided any mention of Harry's name. She read the sentences over again, glanced back at the photo, and found her appetite was entirely gone.
Bellatrix was out. She was surely coming for her now, whenever she could. Aurora chanced a glance along the table at Draco and immediately regretted it. He was staring back at her, his face unreadable, lips parted like he wanted to call to her but didn't know how to make his voice work. Theo left the table in silence, his toast half-eaten, clutching a newspaper close to his chest.
"His father," Gwen said, her voice sounding faraway, "he's one of them."
"I know he is," Aurora said, still looking at her cousin. "Theo isn't."
Gwen said nothing.
Aurora managed only a few more bites of toast, and the rest of her glass of orange juice, before she left the Great Hall, feeling faint and rather nauseous. All day, she felt like she was swimming through class. The knowledge of what had happened, and of what was surely going to happen, weighed heavy in her mind.
"Did you see?" Potter asked her after lunch, catching her in the corridor. "The Daily Prophet? It's Voldemort, I know it is!"
"Of course it is," Aurora replied, voice sharp. "Did you see the part about Pettigrew?"
His expression darkened. "Yeah. Yeah, I did. It must have been them, right?" Aurora nodded. "Well… Good. I suppose."
"He would have gone back to him, if he'd had the chance," Aurora reminded him. "Dead, he can't hurt us. But… I don't know if my dad'll be alright."
He had wanted to kill Pettigrew himself. Maybe he'd be glad. But he would certainly be concerned about Bellatrix breaking out, and her father was also changed since then. Still, she didn't know how to broach the subject with him, if she even could.
"You don't think I could use that mirror?" she asked Potter. "Tonight? You can join, if…"
"I spoke to him last night," Potter said, and Aurora found herself glad to hear it, "after my class with Snape."
"Remedial Potions?"
He nodded. "It was dire."
"I'd expect so."
"I'll get it to you after dinner."
"Thank you, Potter."
The only thing more obvious throughout the afternoon than the tension in the school, and Umbridge's foul mood, was the conspicuous absence of Theodore Nott from any of his classes.
"He doesn't want to be disturbed," Robin said at dinner, "and, well. I don't exactly know what to say to him about this, so I?"
She stared at him. "What do you mean? He's your friend, isn't he?"
"Yeah, but…" He lowered his voice to a whisper. "Well, he's got to be thinking about his dad, and I don't know what to do about it! He's a Death Eater."
"But Theodore isn't. And I doubt he's very happy about this, is he?"
"I know that! But it's still weird. Listen, I'm not judging him or anything, but a bunch of Death Eaters have just escaped from Azkaban, it's pretty hard to just skirt around that!"
Perhaps it was. It was still unsettling to Aurora, too, and not least because she had seen the terror in Gwen's eyes as it all became that bit more real. But Theodore had been there for her, when her father had escaped. Without judgment. Only bringing friendship. She had needed that, more than almost anything.
She collected the mirror from Potter after dinner, but on her way downstairs was waylaid by a frantic Elise, rushing up to her, holding a copy of the Daily Prophet in her hand.
"What's this?" she asked, voice high and feverish, coming to a stop, grasping at Aurora's hand. "My classmates have been talking about this all day — who's Bellatrix Lestrange?"
Even hearing the name from that innocent voice was like a punch to the gut. "She… She's my father's cousin."
"She tortured people?" Aurora nodded slowly, and Elise's face paled with fright. "I thought… Everyone's been saying these people were the followers of You-Know-Who, the one Harry's been saying is back, and that they want to kill people! People like me!" Aurora didn't say anything. She didn't know what to say. "They do? But she — she's our family? If she's your dad's cousin!"
"She's not our family," Aurora said firmly, "just like your grandfather's parents, the people who were cruel to him for not having magic, they're not our family either. I won't let her hurt you."
"Do you think she'll try to?"
"I — no. No, you'll be okay."
Elise didn't look convinced. She shrunk into herself, confused and afraid, and Aurora was hit by an overwhelming wave of guilt. In that moment, Aurora just wanted to protect her and shield her from the world. "They're bad people. Really bad."
"They are, yes. But people will fight them. They won't let them hurt you. Okay?"
"How do you know?"
"I just do. Trust me. I — I won't let Bellatrix anywhere near you, or any of the rest of them. You're going to be safe, Elise."
Elise chewed on her lip, glanced over her shoulder. "Do you think they'll find them? The Ministry, whoever's in charge."
"I certainly hope so," Aurora said. "But we're safe at Hogwarts. Promise."
It was an empty promise, a lie she hadn't believed in many years. But Elise was young and she wanted to believe in it, and she wanted to believe in her elder cousin. The guilt of that would haunt Aurora for a long time. But she couldn't bring herself to scare Elise with the truth she herself was still grappling with; she tried to believe it would be over soon, that she could protect her family. Elise was too young to bear the weight of knowledge, the burden of other people's hatred.
She went back to her friends and Aurora watched her go with guilt burning in her eyes and in her gut. When Elise was out of sight, she turned, headed towards the kitchens.
Theo had been so visibly upset that Aurora couldn't help but want to go to him. She just didn't know what on earth she could do. Dealing with emotions was difficult, but she knew he would try for her. He already had. So she went in search of some food, so he was tided over until the morning, or whenever he felt ready to come out, and in the hopes that maybe, she could offer him some comfort. Cake felt too celebratory, but she recalled him remarking on the scones that had been laid out at breakfast a few days ago, and knew his favourite fruits were strawberries. Something more savoury wouldn't go amiss — if he got nauseous like she did when upset, an abundance of sugar would be the last thing he wanted to eat — and so she made a note to ask for a toasted sandwich, and some soup.
The house elves were all too willing to oblige. "We can keeps it warm for Lady Black's friend," the one called Topsy told her, and she beamed at him.
"That would be incredibly helpful, thank you."
Topsy smiled at the praise, and soon enough Aurora found herself with a basket of food, heading back to the Slytherin common room. Pansy glanced up when she passed, but Aurora shook her head, and shrugged in the direction of the boys' dormitories. From beside her, Blaise sighed. "You're not going to get anywhere, Aurora. He'll come out at some point when he gets hungry."
She tried not to roll her eyes. "I don't need him to come out, Blaise. I need him to eat."
He and Pansy exchanged a slightly exasperated, but knowing look, and returned to their Charms homework. Aurora slipped away, heading for the door she knew to belong to him and Robin. She knocked sharply, twice, and waited. Someone rustled about inside, but didn't speak.
"Theo?" When there was no response, she adjusted the basket perched on her arm and said, "It's just me. Aurora. I… Well, I brought you some food, since you didn't come to any meals. And I thought you might like someone to talk to — but if you don't, that's fine too. I'd be more than happy to just leave this at your door, but I knew I should offer. Just let me know you're in there? And you're… Okay?"
Now, she heard the rustling of sheets and light footsteps. A moment later, the door clicked open and Theo stood in front of her, eyes red. "You really didn't have to do this."
She folded her arms, fixing him with a stern look. "You're my friend. I wanted to. And clearly, someone did need to come and check on you, because by the looks of it you've been crying on your own all day."
"I haven't been crying," he said defensively, but he stepped back to let her in. "I just didn't want to see anybody."
"Oh?" Aurora asked as she breezed into the room. "And why's that?"
"You know why," Theo said with a sigh, closing the door behind them. "I've been trying to figure out what to think."
"What to think?" she asked mildly, setting the basket down on the table between his and Robin's beds. "About your father breaking out of Azkaban?"
"Yeah." He sniffled slightly, then covered it with a cough. "About everything it means. Look, you probably shouldn't be here — I'm being pathetic honestly, there are far more people with far bigger things to worry about because of this. I'll be fine."
"But you're not right now, and you're my friend, and that's what I'm worried about. You didn't judge me for my father, so I'm not going to judge you for yours." She placed a flask of soup down, and he went to stop her, his hand placed over hers. Aurora's breath caught, and she turned to face him, eyebrows raised. "Do you understand?"
"You don't have to be here comforting me—"
"Well, I am, Theo. Deal with it. You don't need to feel guilty, or ashamed, alright?" She turned her hand slightly, squeezing his, a nervous warmth going through her. "Please, Theo."
His fingers brushed against her own, and the look in his eye was as though he was considering something carefully, lost in his thoughts. Eventually, as she held his gaze, he said, "I'm really not hungry, Aurora."
"Good thing I put heating charms on everything, so you can eat it whenever you want."
He sighed, shaking his head. "You're very determined about this, aren't you?"
"Like you wouldn't do the same for me." She smiled at him, softly as she could, and for a second contemplated the feeling of their hands pressed together, the comfort that it gave her even though she wasn't the one in need of it. "Whatever you have to say, or think, you can tell me. Or if you really want me to sod off, you can tell me that too. But I'd rather you said it out of something other than self-pity."
Theo took his hand off hers and turned, pacing down the room and back again, wringing his hands together. Aurora watched him carefully, seeing the anxiety etched into the frown lines of his forehead. "I know I shouldn't be moping about, I know that but, I'm so worried, you know? I know things are going to change, and I spoke to Wilf earlier and he just — he thinks this is a good thing and I don't know how to show him otherwise, because he doesn't understand why our father and grandfather are wrong, he refuses to see it. And, Merlin, I hate it but I'm angry!"
"At who?"
"At everyone!" He flung his arms up in the air, whirling around. "I mean, who let this happen? The Ministry obviously knew this was a risk, people have been saying the Dark Lord's back for months, Fudge hasn't listened and now this? They're all so stupid, and incompetent, and they're going to get people killed!" His words rang in the room as they seemed to sink in with him. Theo caught Aurora's gaze, his face paling and eyes widening.
She swallowed tightly, looking away. "Yeah. I'm sure that they will."
"This isn't okay," Theo said, voice almost pleading. "People are going to die — my father's going to kill people and I don't know what I can do."
"Not kill people, I hope." Aurora looked at him flatly, and he wrung his hands.
"Yeah, I mean, I just—"
"I know you're not like him, Theodore. I know you don't believe in the things he and your grandfather do. But the reality is that they are in power over you. You have to choose whether to just stand by, or… Not."
Theo took in a deep breath and looked away and Aurora found herself at a loss for words, caught between sympathy for a friend and being deeply unnerved by what he said and the choice he would have to make. It was in that moment that she was hit with the realisation of just how desperately she wanted him to make the choice to walk away, turn away from his family, ren though she knew it was selfish, she knew it might endanger his siblings, but more than anything she wanted Theodore to do the right thing, and that she wanted to be able to say that he was on her side, the right side, not standing quietly and watching, and that she thought, deep down, that if he could not do that, something would be wedged between them forever.
"I don't know what to do," he whispered, catching her gaze again. "I don't know what I can do. I'm just… I'm just me. This wasn't supposed to happen. I don't know how to deal with this, with my siblings and my family, there's going to be even more pressure, and if I do something wrong, it'll be taken out on them. I'm responsible for them, Aurora, because no one else is going to do right by them."
"I know," she told him, instinctively crossing the space between them, her heart twisting. "I know that, Theo."
"My mum told me this would happen, she warned me. She told me it wasn't over, and that I had to lead my siblings, and protect them, from our family and from themselves. But I don't know how."
He collapsed down onto his bed, staring at the wall. "How am I supposed to stand up to them? It was bad enough when it was just my grandfather, and now — and my siblings don't understand. They don't know who he is, they don't understand that this is awful and dangerous and, Merlin, in perspective I'm so damn lucky that I'm safe as long as I'm quiet but I don't want to be quiet but I don't know how to speak and still protect my siblings!" He clutched the bedsheets tightly, knuckles going white. She could hear the fear and anxiety in his voice and the panic of his breathlessness. "I've got a year," he said, voice torn. Aurora sank down next to him, their shoulders brushing.
"A year 'til what?"
"'Til I'm seventeen. Well, just over a year, but, you know. Then I can take custody of my siblings, like my mother wanted, and get us all out but until then, we're stuck. Her family might've been able to help us but so many of them were killed during the war, Lord Fawley won't risk it again, and they were all divided enough back then, they might just hand us back over anyway and then we'll be screwed."
"You can take custody of your siblings?"
Theo nodded. "My mother wrote it in her will, that as soon as I'm of age, my siblings are in my care, not my grandfather's. Course, that was when my father was imprisoned but I assume turning up to deal with that in a legal court is a bit of a stupid idea for an escaped convict."
"Suppose so," Aurora said, still somewhat taken aback.
Theo wrung his hands together again, pressed his palms together and took a deep, rattling breath that broke off on a small gasp as he shifted away again, to look through the basket Aurora had brought with a frantic energy, like there was so much inside of him that he was desperate to get out and yet terrified of speaking into the world.
"Strawberries… Scones… Cucumber sandwiches?" He turned around, staring at her.
"What's wrong with cucumber sandwiches?"
"Why — why did you bring all this here?"
"Because you're my friend and you need to eat—"
"I need to sort my life out!" he snapped back breathlessly, and Aurora blinked, surprised. "I can't have you pitying me, I — I need to know what to do! I need someone to tell me what to do!"
"I'm not going to tell you what to do," Aurora said bluntly. Even though she wanted to, she wanted to scream it at him, she didn't want to have to have to, and it scared her how badly she wanted him to stand by her.
"I don't know how I do this, Aurora," he told her, breath catching. "I'm scared."
His voice faded to a whisper at the end, as he met her gaze with a look so haunted and afraid that it made her heart pull to him, like a healer to a distress signal.
"I know you're scared," she said, softening her voice deliberately. "You're quite right to be. But, you need to eat, and breathe. And we'll figure this out. I promise."
"You shouldn't be here," he told her, "you, of all people, you shouldn't be feeling sorry for me."
"You're my friend," she reiterated, as harshly as she dared. "Don't tell me what I should and shouldn't feel for you, Theo. Now." She stood, and flounced over to the basket, standing beside him. "Scone or sandwich."
"Aurora—"
"Scone or sandwich?" she repeated, fixing him with a hard stare as she picked up one of both. "You're not getting away with not eating. You'll feel better for it."
He swallowed, clenched his jaw as though annoyed and then said with a defeated sigh, "Are they cheese scones?"
"Fruit or plain. And there's strawberry jam."
"Why does everything you brought begin with an S?"
This, she did not know the answer to. She handed him one plain scone and one fruit, and a pot of jam with a small knife, and watched sternly as he reluctantly sat down on the edge of his bed. "Thank you," he said softly, meeting her eyes as he began to eat. "I know you're trying to help. I just…"
"Don't know how to accept help?"
"Takes one to know one."
She shrugged. "Fair enough. I'm trying to be better about it, though." With him, anyway, it felt easier to accept help. He made her feel like she deserved it.
Theo took a bite of his scone and looked at her contemplatively. "I saw Bellatrix Lestrange escaped, too. And that Peter Pettigrew was killed. I don't suppose anyone's asked you how you're holding up?"
She shook her head. "No, they haven't, actually. But I suppose that's to be expected. Gwen and Elise and Harry have their own reasons to be frightened, Leah has her anger, and Robin's mainly worried about Gwen, so." She shrugged. "I'm bloody terrified, but, what can you do? It was always going to happen."
He swallowed the last of another bite and reached for the strawberries, holding the small basket of them out to her. "I think you need something to eat, too."
With a small laugh, Aurora shoved his knee lightly with his own and took the strawberries. "Shift over then, will you?"
He obliged, shuffling back to sit cross-legged on the other side of the bed, and she toed her shoes off before sitting opposite him, placing the basket in between them. "So, what is it you need right now? A plan, a cry, or a distraction?"
"No idea," Theo said honestly, "but I think I'd better take the distraction."
Aurora plucked a strawberry and asked, "Why?"
"Well, you're already here and seem designed to distract me. And I'm sure you'd find a way anyway."
She raised her eyebrows, teasing. "Do you find me distracting, Theodore Nott?"
"No," he said quickly, flushing. Aurora grinned, chest fluttering. "It's the scones."
"I see." Her grin widened. "Well, after all the effort I put in to procure them, I'm glad they're offering a sound distraction. Have you ever visited the Hogwarts kitchens?" He shook his head. "You should try it, there's this whole series of passageways to get there and there's a portrait at the end with a fruit bowl and if you tickle the pear then you can get inside. It's really cool to see behind the scenes — you know so many students don't even know Dumbledore employs house elves. Employs them, not owns them. Oh, and the Malfoys' old elf is there too, he wears loads of funny hats."
"Why?"
"He's there because Harry Potter helped set him free and he fancied working for Hogwarts as a free elf. He wears the hats for unknown reasons."
"You know, I never fail to be surprised by a new piece of trivia about your godbrother."
"Oh, I've lost the element of surprise completely. He could tell me he wrestled a squid and I'd believe it, because it's the sort of ridiculous thing he would do, in the same vein as flying a car from Kings Cross to school and inflating his aunt like a balloon."
Theo choked on his scone. "When did he do that?" he asked, eyes watering.
"Oh, a couple of years ago," Aurora told him evasively. "I'm not sure why he did it, exactly, the general gist is that she's a nasty piece of work, and having met his other aunt and uncle, I'd say that sounds about right." She ate another strawberry, savouring it as Theo laughed and tried to regain his breath. "He's told me some fascinating accidental magic stories, actually. Apparently he flew onto the roof of his school once. And, you know how he did Parseltongue that one time in second year — yeah, he spoke to a snake at a zoo and vanished the glass and sort of set it on his cousin, who's also a piece of work."
"Merlin," Theo said through laughter, "and he didn't work out anything was amiss?"
"Apparently not. Though I don't think his family are big fans of the whole magic thing, so maybe he just wouldn't entertain it. Anyway." She didn't like to discuss Potter's family, or her relationship with him, even if it did feel somehow easier with Theo. "There's a lot of this castle that actually goes completely unexplored. You can cut the time it takes to get from Potions to Transfiguration in half with the right passageway, but no one else seems to know or even consider that there are these secret passageways. The founders built them in as protection from siege, the idea being that students would have a better instinct for the castle than anyone else would, and the castle would help them in response. There's even one passageway I found which takes you to this sort of crawl space in the ceiling above the entrance hall, which would be perfect for throwing things at intruders."
"I'd be amazed if Peeves hasn't tried that one yet." Theo's lips were quirked in an odd smile as he watched her ramble.
"As far as I know he hasn't, but it's entirely possible. I actually haven't seen him very much since we got back, I think Umbridge might have threatened him with discorporation over the holidays."
"Wouldn't surprise me," Theo said with a short-lived laugh. He set down his scone, shifted the basket aside and asked, "How'd you think she's reacted to this? I mean, you'll at least have seen her."
"Not well, that I can say. She looked furious, and a bit embarrassed. It's certainly shown up Fudge's incompetence, plus it undermines all their messaging. They've no explanation for any reason why they've all broken out. I do hope to see her squirm over it in class."
"Think Potter'll yell at her again?"
"Possibly, though I hope he's more sensible than that by now." She shook her head. "She'll get what's coming to her, I'm sure. They all will."
"We can hope, anyway," he said with a scowl. With a restless flex, he asked, "Don't you ever feel like there's just no way of fixing any of this? Like, I don't know, I just feel so powerless over the world, and so stuck in it. I can't move, you know?"
"I know how you feel," Aurora said, deliberating, "but I think we have to believe that we can fix things. The world's absolutely suffocating right now, and I don't know what to do either, and I'm terrified, and trapped, and I feel like everything's spiralling out of my control. But I have to believe a better world's possible, even if I don't know how to achieve it."
"I just want freedom," he said softly. "To have my own thoughts and feelings and to own my choices."
"Freedom does sound pretty good," she agreed, even though she thought control was better, control over oneself and one's future. "And one day, that's what you'll have. If you fight for it."
Her hand lay in the space between them and he took it for a moment, flexing his fingers as though he just needed to feel her there. Aurora's breath caught in her throat. "I want to," he whispered to her, "I really, really want to."
"I want you to," she told him, squeezing his fingers gently. "And I know you have it in you, I just…" Her words escaped her. None of them were right for the moment; how she wanted Theodore to be able to stand by her side no matter what, even while understanding perfectly why he could not, and yet feeling with dread that at some point, the balance of their friendship might fall away.
"It'll be okay," she said finally, then cringed. "I'm sorry, I'm not very good at this, am I?"
"You're wonderful," Theo told her softly, gripping her hands tighter. He dipped his head and caught her gaze, carefully, as though considering something. "Thank you. And you're right. I still have a choice to make. It's just…"
"Dangerous. And difficult. But I believe in you." She said it with a shrug, though the words were not light at all.
She picked at her scone, going quiet again and allowing Theo to ask, "How did you do it, cope with it, when it was you?"
"Well, I think you know I was in a right mood all year. It was pretty rough. To be honest, I don't think I could really be said to have coped with it. It's like everything else, you just kind of have to keep existing and figure out who you want to be afterwards. But, I guess it's important to know who you want around you, and that those people know who you are."
She watched the bob of his throat as he swallowed and digested this with a nod. "You guys do. I mean, you and Gwen and Robin and Daphne."
The exclusions were just as important as the inclusions there, she felt. "It will be okay, Theo. I know we're not exactly in the same position, but, you just have to keep yourself." She smiled gently, in what she hoped was a reassuring way, even though she felt she must be failing.
"Yeah," he said, gnawing at his lip. "I know. I do, I just… It's scary. All of it, you know? Not just him but all of them."
Aurora sighed; there was meaning an weight in his gaze, as though imploring her to speak. "Yes, well, I have somewhat come to terms with Bellatrix Lestrange's personal bloodthirst towards me." Theo winced. "I can't really remember how much I've told you about her, but she was pretty set on murdering me when I was a child, and I know she still wants the same."
"You know that?" Theo asked, picking up on her tone.
She shook her head quickly. "I mean, I don't know, of course, but I'd be pretty shocked if she turned around now and decided she doesn't mind half bloods and blood traitors that much after all and wanted to make nice and pledge fealty to me."
Theo coughed. "That does seem rather unlikely."
"I'll just have to survive, I suppose. I've made it to sixteen, might as well try for a few more years."
Theo's expression was caught in a weary grimace somewhere between laughter and concern. "Here I am going on about my family, and yours is… Well…"
"Fucked?"
"For want of a better word."
"No, I think that's entirely appropriate, actually." This time, Theo's laugh was a little looser.
"Seriously, though, I know you're trying to make light of this, but…?" He let the question hang, somewhere between are you okay and can you articulate what you're feeling.
"But I'm terrified, yeah." Her laugh was breathy and shallow. "She's more than capable of killing me and I still don't know why I managed to avoid dying last time. I got lucky, or I had someone watching out for me, I don't know, and I definitely don't know how. She'll try to kill me the first chance she gets, and…" The wave of panic hit her suddenly, the way a tsunami draws back and then races back towards the shore. In a flash, it flooded through her, clogging in her throat; the face from the Prophet leered at her in her mind's eye, cackling rang in her ears, her heart beat to the tune of a death march. For a moment she was unable to speak or even breathe, as the reality she had been ignoring all day reared into view, and the knowledge thatsooner or later she would be confronted with an attempt on her life, seized her chest with a cold iron fist. Seconds passed too quickly; Theo was speaking and the noisy panic in her head drowned him out, her thoughts repeating over and over: I'm going to die, my father's going to die, Andromeda and Ted and Dora are going to die, everyone I love is going to die and leave me, I can't do this, I can't lose them again, and not like this, not because of her.
"Aurora." His voice was distant, like he was calling from the top of a deep, dark pit and she was at the bottom. "Aurora, breathe, what's—"
"I can't do it," she said, words strangled by her ragged breathing. Her mind wouldn't work, wouldn't see anything beyond the immediate panic that was determined to crush her for avoiding the truth too long. "I can't — I can't — they're going — and she — I can't do it—"
"Aurora." His fingers grazed hers and she moved away, panicked by his proximity, embarrassed that she was doing whatever this was in front of him. "Look at me."
"Elise is scared and — and I can't —" Cant help her, or fix this, or protect her, she wanted to say, but the words wouldn't form, stuck in her throat. She drew her arms to her chest, then moved them frantically, as though she might pull her words out of her chest by doing so. "This is just — I'm so sorry I don't know — I was fine, I'm fine."
"You're not fine," Theo told her, wide eyed, keeping his distance. She wanted him but at the same time wanted to flee the room entirely. "Aurora, listen to me. Breathe in slowly, alright, count to eight."
"I can't — I don't — Theo, I need to — to stop—"
"Breathe in," he said, and in the silence she heard him drawing his own breath, but hers was shallow and frantic as she tried not to choke on her words.
"She's going to — she killed my mother — and my uncle did — I don't know how — I can't do it — she hates me and - and Narcissa and Lucius and Draco, they'll — oh, Merlin, I can't—"
"You're not going to die," Theo told her firmly.
"She's going to — I'm not strong enough—"
"Aurora, listen to me. You are strong."
"I'm not enough!"
"You're determined. You're going to be okay, and we'll find a way through this, just like you said—"
"I can't — it's not just — I have to protect them!"
"—but you have to calm down first."
"I can't — Theo, I don't know what's wrong with me, I can't — this doesn't happen—"
"I know, it's okay. Just breathe, okay. Can I hold your hands? It might help ground you?"
"I can't — can't touch—"
"That's okay," he promised her immediately.
"I'm sorry — shouldn't cry — I just — I can't—"
"It's okay, Aurora, I'm sorry I brought it up."
"I shouldn't have — I shouldn't be like this! I'm fine!" She almost made herself believe it, holding back a sob and biting her lip so hard she thought she might draw blood. Her heart threatened to tear itself out of her chest.
"You're not fine," Theo whispered, "but that's okay. It's going to be okay, just breathe, okay. Look around, look at me. You're here, you're safe. Your family are going to be alright."
"You don't know that, you can't — I don't know how to protect them!" Her words were spilling out now, the dam breaking. "I can't lose them, Theo, I can't — I can't go through that again, I can't be alone, I can't have them leave me again, and I can't have it be my fault." Her breath shuddered. "It's more and more likely, that someone I love is going to die and I just can't stand having anyone else die, I can't do it. Bellatrix wants me dead, any one of them would rejoice in it, and Dora and my father are going to throw themselves headlong into fighting and I can't see a way this ends well right now, even though I'm trying, so, so hard."
Aurora drew her knees to her chest, lying on her side on the bed, propriety gone as her head raced. "Everyone my father knew died in the first war, everyone he loved, and anyone else he became completely estranged from, and I can't help but feel history repeating itself. I can't stop it, I don't know how and now, it's just — just —" She couldn't find the words, left scrambling again.
"I don't know what to do," Theo said, "to reassure you."
"You can't reassure me," she told him flatly. "There's nothing anyone can do to resolve any of this, and I know I can't win this one and I'm — I'm scared, and…" She squeezed her eyes closed, trying to concentrate on the feel of the sheets beneath her, on the space around her, and the moment she was in. "I'm sorry. I'm meant to be comforting you and instead I'm being this stupid — I don't know."
"It's not stupid," Theo told her, "and it sounds like you needed a rant." He lay down so he was facing her, and their knees brushed gently. Suddenly his eyes seemed brighter, and there was something about him that made her want to draw closer. "I think there are enough strawberries for both of us."
She chuckled wetly and turned to face the ceiling. She had never noticed before that Theo and Robin's ceiling had been painted over, light silver and blue, so pale that it was near invisible, and it took her a moment to make out the clouds painted onto a pale blue sky. "Who did that?" she asked before she could stop herself. "The ceiling?"
Theo tensed beside her. "That was me."
"I didn't know you liked art. Or did it, at all."
She turned back to look at him, seeing the sheepish look in his eye. "I don't do it often," he defended, "it's frivolous, and that was downright silly. Robin wanted to see if he could levitate me long enough to paint something up there, and you know what he's like when he gets an idea, so I had to do it. It was not a fun experience."
The mental image of Theo floating completely horizontal in the air, using the ceiling as a canvas, was hilarious enough that all other thoughts left Aurora's head and she burst out laughing, the sound boiling inside of her. "Why would you try that? Did you fall?"
"Only a little," Theo said, forehead creased in bemusement. "Robin isn't good at sustained bodily levitation. But I think I covered it well. I intentionally made it light, so any mistakes weren't too noticeable, and I had to use an extra sticking charm so the paint wouldn't just drip off the ceiling, and it still didn't work that well so I got quite a lot in my hair, and on my robes. It was a nightmare, honestly."
"It looks cool," she told him, still in awe. "And the image of you up there is even more wonderful."
Theo laughed, screwing up his face. "Robin enjoyed it, too, funnily enough. I had to make him promise not to tell, but I suppose it was only a matter of time before someone decided to look up there. It's been a couple months, though. Gwen might have noticed, but other than that, we seem to have gotten away with it."
"Well, I'm glad you did. It's amazing. You do this often?"
"Sometimes. It's not a very practical hobby, or so my grandfather likes to tell me. But, I enjoy it. I like watercolours especially. It's nice to observe things, and bring it to life in a new way. But don't tell anyone," he added quickly, nervously.
"Okay," she said, "if you want." She looked up again, smiling to herself. "If it makes you happy, keep doing it. For me, yeah?"
"For you?"
She nodded. "I like it. It's pretty."
"Yeah? No deep analysis?"
"Pretty's pretty," she told him with a shrug. "The world could do with a few more nice things."
"I suppose so," he said slowly, holding her gaze with deliberate consideration. He swallowed tightly. "Thank you. For everything, all of this."
"Sufficient distraction?"
"Very much. I think… Well, I think you're right. But what you said, about knowing who's around you, like keeping your friends close — I just want you to know that I always want to be around for you, and vice versa. As friends."
"Yeah," Aurora said softly, warmth unfolding inside of her, even though something about it felt off, like as friends was not quite right, almost disappointing. "I want that too."
It occurred to her, then, that the way they were lying was far from proper, that his face was only a few inches from hers, that if anyone were to walk in, they would have a great many questions and a potential scandal on their hands. But she could not bring herself to care, even though she felt the underlying danger of their being together, even though the thought of what his family would think or do scared her and twisted her up inside, she didn't want to move, she didn't want to pull away from him.
But she had to. When she sat up, she felt colder. "You're a good person, Theo," she told him, "and you're one of my closest friends. I think it'd take a lot to change that."
He looked like he wasn't sure he quite believed her. "I hope you're right." As he sat up, he held her gaze, and under its warm glow she had to look away, unsettled by the new hammering of her heart and the hot flush that rose to her cheeks. "I want to fight, you know. I want to know how, against all of them."
She did too. Briefly, she considered telling him about Harry's defence club, but discarded the idea. Putting him in a position where he knew about him might be to implicate him in something deeply dangerous to him, and besides, she got the feeling Potter would not take well to it.
"You're a pretty good duellist," she told him instead, "I'm sure between us we could do something to learn. I've always found you a fun challenge."
"I'm not sure Umbridge would take well to that."
"There are no rules against two students privately practicing defensive magic against each other. Yet, anyway." A slow, thrilled grin spread over his face.
"I suppose you're right. And I mean, it's no different from an informal friendly gathering over homework, even with three or four of us."
Her own grin widened and she winked. "I'll check out a duelling book from the library tomorrow, then. You can borrow it, if you like."
"I'd love to."
A quiet, excited smile passed between them, carried by the thrill of mischief and finding resistance from a powerless situation. "We'll be okay, won't we?" Theo asked into the silence. "Me and you, and Robin and Gwen, all of us."
"I think we could be," aas all she could commit to.
"Promise me you'll be careful. You're — I don't want to see you hurt."
"I don't intend o get myself hurt."
"But you have a bad habit of getting into life-threatening situations. Particularly where Harry Potter is involved."
"Harry Potter is constantly involved," she said wearily, "but I'm beginning to think I've my own poor luck — and sometimes judgment — to thank." Se slipped off the bed, picking up her satchel. Theo followed, standing beside her.
"You don't have to go."
"I have to write to my father. And I should probably check in on Gwen — I know she'll be rattled by this, even if she won't show it. Unless you need me to stay?"
He hesitated a moment before saying, "I think I'll be alright now. I can eat, which will distract me. And I'll remember what you said."
"Good."
"Tell Gwen I hope she's alright. And…" He swayed slightly on the spot, like he was going to step towards her and then thought better of it. The distance he had almost crossed felt wide and cold. "Only leave if you're alright, too. You can stay as long as you want."
"I know. But I should get back and I — I will be alright. Panic time is over. Thank you, though."
In a mindless, impulsive second, she stepped up on her tiptoes and pressed a quick, grateful kiss to his cheek. When she pulled away, Theo's cheeks were flaming pink and he was staring at her like she had sprouted a tail. "I'll see you tomorrow," she told him, heat already flooding her cheeks. "At breakfast. If you can make it — if you're still not able, I can bring you something, and notes if you need them, from class, because if you fall behind my only competition will be Hermione Granger and frankly, she's nowhere near as fun, and debating with her is like arguing with a solid wall, and—"
She was cut off sharply as Theo threw his arms around her, squeezing her to his chest where she felt her body heat with sudden sparks, feeling every inch of him against her so intensely. It was a different embrace than any they had shared before, marked by more than mere comfort, but a strength of will to hold and to be held, to be as close to one another as they possible could be, and in a moment, as she came to her senses, Aurora held him just as tight, clinging to his shoulder.
"I don't know what I'd do without you," Theo mumbled into her shoulder, breath warm. "You're my best friend."
"Oh." She didn't know what to say to that. She had heard it from Gwen, and she had referred to Draco and Pansy as such on occasion, but this felt deeper, and unexpected, for it did not make sense; he had no obligation to her, no childhood memory or familial loyalty or forced proximity of being roommates to make her important to him. She just was, somehow, without asking. That realisation made her heart feel like it was going to burst; they were friends simply because they were, because they fit, because they were there for one another, and it was in the moment that the world seemed to turn without them, and they were still, and she realised just how much of her life he had started to occupy, how important he had become as he burrowed his way into her heart. "Thank you, Theo."
"Was that a silly thing to say? It was, wasn't it?"
"Not at all," she assured him, thumb running absently over his back. "You're important to me, too, Theo. I…" Words could not express just how grateful she was for him, how much she knew she could rely on him, more than anybody else, even more than Gwen or her father or the Tonkses, because he was there, and he understood, and she craved that so much. "Thank you."
A moment's longer embrace, and then she forced herself to step back, aware of the warmth blooming between them. Catching his gaze made her breath catch in her throat and her cheeks heat. "I should go," she told him, "I have to write that letter…"
"'Course." Theo swallowed. "Yeah."
"You will be alright?"
"I will now." His hands held hers for a moment, and at his smile, Aurora found herself equally unable to stop a grin. "Thank you."
"Anytime. After all," she said before she could stop herself, "what are best friends for?"
She left him in the quiet, closing the door, head spinning slightly. Whatever had just happened, she wasn't entirely certain, but she felt assured that coming to see Theodore had been the right thing to do.
Now she had an even more difficult challenge. She locked her bedroom door as soon as she entered, glad to find that Gwen was still in the common room with Tracy and Clarissa.
She brought out the mirror from her father and held it, frowning at her own reflection. It looked strange, though the mirror itself was simple. She had never seen a two-way mirror before, though as soon as her father had mentioned it, the idea seemed very sensible indeed. And now, she felt, it could only help her.
"Sirius Black," she said nervously into the mirror, sitting upright against her swathe of pillows. It took a moment, and the surface of the mirror rippled slightly, like a lake, but then her father's face appeared in front of her, pale and grim, with a forced smile.
"Aurora? This is a surprise — is everything alright?"
"I assume you've seen the news about Azkaban," she said, eyebrows raised. The forced smile fell. "It's all anybody can talk about here. I just wanted to see if you're alright."
"I told you, you don't have to worry—"
"Fine then, maybe I just want to talk to you about it. I'm scared, I know you must be too."
Her father sighed, shaking his head. He seemed to be in the lounge at Arbrus Hill, though Aurora was sure he must have been at a meeting earlier. The Order would be going mad over this.
"We're all concerned," he said. "As far as the Auror office has deduced, they were let out by the Dementors. That's a major security failure on the Ministry's part, and it's likely going to make people lose confidence, which is why they're trying to prolong the investigation. One thing though, Kingsley told us, Fudge called him into his office, asking about Barty Crouch's son."
"Really?"
"Well, again, the Ministry isn't letting out anything Crouch says and from the sounds of it he hasn't been saying anything at all — which I don't think is merely a result of an Imperius from six months ago, somehow — but, Fudge had had it implied to him before that Crouch knew or thought his son had escaped. Those rumours have been going about for a while, from St. Mungo's; Fudge wants Kingsley to consider looking into it, maybe connecting the two, but he doesn't know if that'll worry people more."
"Surely it will."
"But perhaps not as much as if everybody thought the Dementors had turned away from the Ministry. Still, it shows the Ministry didn't know, and they've failed on two fronts. Kingsley's all for it, but Fudge is very much in two minds. We don't think he'll end up going for it, once his head clears, but he is desperate."
Aurora thought over this, humming as she did so. "I'm sure people will understand this is big. They're losing their grip now. And if anyone, shouldn't this confirm the idea that You-Know-Who's returned, if his followers are going back to find him? The timing is suspicious."
"Very. We're going to try to capitalise on it, especially the Aurors among us. Had — has anyone at school said anything about it?"
"Not to me," she said, shaking her head. "Apart from Elise, who was asking about Bellatrix. I tried to reassure her she isn't in danger, but I'm not sure she was convinced… And I think some people have mentioned things to Potter, but not me."
"Good… Good."
"I wouldn't be surprised if more people do," she said, "but so far, no. But I, um… I saw the part about Peter Pettigrew."
She winced even as she said it. Her father didn't say anything for a long moment, and Aurora considered perhaps that was the worst thing she could have asked him. But, eventually, in a rather hollow voice, "It's no loss. Not really. Peter was dead to me fourteen years ago."
"Right. Of course. I just — just wondered how you were feeling."
"It's fine."
He said it the same way she would. That was how she knew he was lying.
"Alright. Well, I just wanted to speak to you. But if that's all, if you're fine—"
"Aurora," he interrupted, wincing, "I'm sorry. I just don't know how to talk about it. But if you need to, go ahead."
"I don't know what to say," she admitted. "It's not exactly a surprise, is it, but it still feel like something of a shock. And I didn't like that the article mentioned you, that felt unfair. But, I don't know… I can't stop thinking about it but I'm not as scared as I felt that I should be? Like, I'm aware of the need to be frightened and in a logical, practical sense, I am afraid but, I also feel like it was inevitable? And now we just have to deal with it."
Her father's eyes were wide, bright, unreadable. "I'm sorry you have to deal with this, Aurora. At your age…"
"It isn't as if you didn't have to deal with this sort of stuff. You were even younger than me when the first war started."
"That's why. It — it isn't easy. And I can't lie, I'm terrified Bellatrix might try to hurt you, now she's free, that any of them will. And Gabriel Travers, you know who he is?"
One of the escapees further down the list; the man who had set the fire at the McKinnon household the night after her mother died. And Lucille's uncle. Aurora nodded grimly. "You think he wants to finish what he started?"
"I think he had an interesting relationship with Bellatrix Lestrange, and we can't be too careful." He sighed. "You should be safe at Hogwarts, but no one can guarantee it. Just be careful. I know you don't want to hear it, but there are certain people around you that you don't want to stick too closely to. There's no telling what any of them might have to do."
"I know," she said, "I am being careful." Besides, there were hardly any of that group she would even dare speak to anymore, or who would deign to speak with her. But still she declined to tell her father about the conversation she had just had with Theodore. "What does the Order think, about the likelihood of attack?"
"Imminent. He must be planning something, we just don't know what yet. But be careful what you say in Hogwarts, Aurora. Just in case."
"I know." She hated it, the idea that she couldn't trust the people around her, but it wasn't unusual anymore either. It was the reality of an oncoming war, which they all would have to deal with. "I'm considering joining Harry's defence against the dark arts club, you know. I assume he told you about it."
Her father nodded. "I'm surprised you hadn't signed up already. If it was me, I would have leapt at the chance."
"Yes, well, I'm not you, am I? And it's so dangerous, if I get caught: I'm already on thin ice with Umbridge, and I'm sure a lot of the lords she's friends with would love to see me disgraced for breaking Ministry decrees."
"It's also dangerous not to learn how to fight," her father pointed out with a frown. "Sure, it's risky, but Harry's got a lot to lose too, and so have Hermione and the Weasleys."
"I know that," she told him, irritated. "But I've got a lot to deal with—"
"Aurora, you can't stay out of this all forever!"
"I'm not trying to stay out of it, I'm trying to avoid making the situation at Hogwarts worse!"
Her father sighed, pinching his brow. "Has it occurred to you that there is more going on than whatever political situation you're trying to conserve?"
"Yes, of course, but I — I just don't know what to do! I'm scared, Dad."
At that, her father's gaze softened. "I know, sweetheart. But you'll never not be scared."
Aurora flinched. "I'm not a coward."
"And I'm not calling you one. You have to fight through this, even though I wish you didn't. You might even enjoy it."
"I doubt that. And there are no Slytherins in the defence club, Ron told me, I suspect as a deterrent. They'll all hate me even more than usual. But I am considering it, and now, it seems more and more like I have to take that step. But on the other hand, me and my friends are considering finding a way to work on our duelling together."
"Which friends?" he asked immediately, suspicion clouding his features.
She hated that look on him, especially directed at her. "Well, I don't know, I've only discussed it with Theo, but we'll probably team up with Robin and Gwen, maybe Leah or Daphne. Not an organised thing, so Umbridge can't get mad, but we're all already together a lot anyway, and it wouldn't be weird for us to hang out in Robin and Theo's room, or mine and Gwen's."
"Theo? The Nott boy, still?"
"Yes," she said defensively. "What's wrong with that?"
"You know his father—"
"Just broke out of Azkaban? Yeah, funnily enough, I noticed that, and the fact that Theo himself is both terrified and furious about it, and so upset he's hardly eaten all day."
Her father did not say anything for a long moment, and the silence burrowed beneath Aurora's skin. "Theo's my friend, but whatever you think you have to say about him, I'd rather you just spit it out."
"I've nothing against the boy," her father said carefully, "only his family."
"You of all people should know his family doesn't define him."
"Oh, I do. But that doesn't mean they won't try to control him. Being friends with him could be..."
"Dangerous?" She gave him a pointed look. "I didn't think you much cared about danger."
"When it's for the right reasons."
"Theo's my friend, and he's kind. That's reason enough to stick by him. Don't tell me otherwise."
"I'm not trying to tell you what to do—"
"You clearly are! With the defence club and now this! I can make my own decisions, I'm not stupid!"
"I would never say that you are! Look, Aurora, you can do what you want, I'm just saying that there are risks to being friends with someone like Theodore, no matter how nice he himself is."
"I know this. But I — I believe in him. I trust him. I can't stop being friends with him."
Her father's eyes were wide, worried, but he nodded and said in a strained voice, "Fine. That's your choice. I'm just saying. Now, as to this defence club — I really do think you should give it a go. Harry genuinely wants you to join up, he thinks you'd be a great addition — plus, he said everyone badgering him about teaching them how to produce a Patronus, and you could help with that."
"So you two were talking about me, then?"
"Aurora, don't be like that, we were just talking about school and you came up. He wasn't saying anything bad."
"Yeah, well..." She shifted uncomfortably. "I don't know. Maybe I will join, maybe I won't."
"I think deep down you want to. So just do it."
It's not that easy, she wanted to scream, and yet she felt like she was the one making it so difficult for herself. After a moment's silence, her father said, "I'm going to have to go now, sweetheart. Dora wants me to pop round to hers; Andromeda's upset. Remus is with them now, too."
"Of course," Aurora said softly, swallowing her earlier annoyance. "Give them all my love, won't you?"
"Will do." He smiled, a forced and strained thing that didn't reach his eyes. "I love you, sweetheart."
She swallowed tightly, stomach twisting. "I love you, too. Be safe?"
He couldn't promise it; he just grinned and said, "I'll do my best."
-*
Author's Note: Hello all! Apologies for the delay on this chapter. I just wanted to write a quick note here to address the technical issues which seem to have arisen with recently. From what I can gather, there have been a few server issues, especially on desktop, and I've had a comment telling me that the link to this fic on email notifications hasn't been working, which unfortunately I can do nothing about but seems indicative of general site issues across the board. I've no intentions to leave at all, so don't worry, but I wanted to take the opportunity to let people know that this fic is also available on AO3, under the username hopefullydreaming, just in case any further difficulties arise in future.
Thank you all for reading, and I hope you enjoyed the chapter! :)