The next morning at breakfast, Aurora had only just sat down when a second year came up and asked, "Is it true Bellatrix Lestrange is coming to murder you?"

"Get out of my sight, Farron," she told him wearily, pouring herself a tea.

"But, is it?"

"Why would I tell you?"

"Because everyone wants to know."

She gave the boy a flat, unimpressed look and said, "If I turn up dead in the lake, I'll make sure you're the first to be told. Leave before I hex you, please."

After a harsh glare, the second year shuffled off to his awaiting friends, who whispered frantically and stared over their shoulders at her. Aurora rolled her eyes and tried to forget the question, pulling out her Transfiguration textbook and preparing her breakfast. No sooner had she picked up her fork and opened her book, though, than Graham and Cassius plopped down either side of her, grinning.

"There's our little Chaser," Graham said, snatching up a slice of her toast. "Fancy a flight tonight? Couldn't book a whole team practice 'til Friday, but we can get half an hour for a few laps after Ravenclaw have been out, around eight."

"Sure," she said, and took another piece of toast with a scowl. "If you stop being so annoying."

"Damn, I've only said two sentences."

"Three."

He waved a dismissive hand. "What's got your knickers in a twist?"

"My impending death."

"Ah." The two boys exchanged meaningful looks. "That."

"It's fine," she said, tossing her hair. "Well, it's not, but, you know — we still have to thrash Hufflepuff next month."

"That's very true," Cassius agreed. They hadn't spoken much at the end of last term, and it took a moment for him to continue, "You're going to be alright, aren't you?"

"Of course I am. If Harry Potter can win all his Quidditch matches while almost getting killed by You-Know-Who every year, I should be able to handle this."

"Right. Well, good. And are we…"

"If you're not going to be a twat," she said pointedly, "yes."

"'Cause I am sorry," he said, with a look at Graham which told her they had discussed this before. "About how we argued and that, I was rough on you, and I shouldn't have been."

"Yes, you shouldn't have been. But what's done is done." She swallowed tightly and turned back to Graham. "So, practice on Friday, too?"

"Seven o'clock on the dot."

"I'll mark my calendar."

"That's my girl," Graham said, nudging her shoulder and swinging his legs back over the bench to stand up. Cassius followed suit. "And hey, since it's a private flight tonight, you can give me a go on that Firebolt of yours."

"In your dreams, Montague."

"In no fewer than eight of them!" he called as they wandered off, towards the crowd of seventh years at the top of the table.

Aurora watched them go with a grin, chuckling as she turned to her breakfast in better spirits. As she tucked into her toast and eggs, Gwen and Robin dropped into the seats opposite her, and Leah came to her side with Apollo Jones. Gwen had returned to their room late the night before, apparently having been talking about the Azkaban breakout with Robin, though all she had been willing to say to Aurora on the matter was that she was tired of thinking about it, unable to do anything. It was not dissimilar to Aurora's feelings. But, she was determined to do something, at least.

After a short breakfast, she went to track down Harry Potter, who was sulking in a lonely alcove on the third floor. When she tore aside the tapestry covering it, he jumped and swore at her, wand out before he realised who it was. "Aurora?"

"The one and only. Lumos." She flounced into the alcove as she lit it up, letting the heavy fabric muffle them. "I've decided I want in on your little club."

He stared at her, blinking slowly. "Right. This wouldn't have anything to do with the Death Eaters breaking out of Azkaban?"

"Completely unlinked to the immediate threat to my life, of course. Can I still join?"

"I didn't think you wanted anything to do with us."

"Well, it's dangerous. But I want to learn. And, I think that an illicit club like this has great potential for further subterfuge. You're pretty sizeable, right?"

"I mean, there are about two dozen of us."

She nodded, mulling this over. "I'm in if you'll let me."

"You'll have to sign a form," Harry told her slowly. "Agreeing to keep quiet."

"A physical one?" He nodded and she sighed. "Harry, you can't leave a paper trail for illegal organisations. That's rule number one. The Order doesn't do roll call, does it?"

"The DA wasn't illegal when it was formed. And it isn't really illegal now. Anyway, we all promised to keep quiet."

"And you don't trust that I will?"

"Of course I do," he said, and once again surprised her with his sincerity, "but not everyone will."

Having her name on an official document linked to this group — the DA — seemed an awful idea to her. If they were discovered, she did not want evidence of her involvement, and frankly, she felt that having one list compiled of every person involved was completely stupid. "So in theory," she said, "if one person were to tell Umbridge about this group, and led her to the list, which I'm assuming is in the possession of either you or Hermione, she'd know the name of every single person, and be able to track down, punish, torture, and interrogate each and every one of them?"

Potter swallowed, pulling a sheepish face like this had not yet occurred to him. "It's a deterrent. So no one will do that."

"So signing the list prevents them from doing so? Magically?"

"Well, no. But everyone's complicit. And I think Hermione did some sort of jinx on it."

"What jinx?"

"I don't know, I didn't ask!"

"Merlin help me," she whispered under her breath. "This already seems like a shitshow."

"It's going well!" Harry protested hotly. "It is! Ask Elise! Look, no one else actually sees the list. There are a couple recent additions I don't think added their name either. And I'm in charge, technically…" She grinned. "I really shouldn't make exceptions. Especially for you."

"Hey, I'm your sister! And I'm pretty exceptional in general."

"Godsister," he said pointedly, throwing her own insistence on the term back at her. "You're exceptionally annoying."

"Among many, many other things. What does the DA stand for anyway? I'm assuming defensive something?"

"Officially it's the Defense Association," Harry told her with an anticipatory grin, "but it's also Dumbledore's Army."

She stared at him, trying to comprehend. "Sweet Merlin. I am not joining Dumbledore's Army. Why'd you have to name it after him?"

"Aurora, you're basically in the Order, that's more of Dumbledore's Army than this is."

"Okay, but…" She sighed. "You'll never change the name, will you?"

"Nope!" He grinned.

"Fine. I'm in. Tell me when you meet and where, and I'll be there."

"It's a room on the seventh floor," he told her, "you walk past this painting of the dancing trolls three times thinking about what you really need the room to be — for us, a place for secret defence lessons — and then it appears. We don't have set meeting times, but Hermione made these enchanted coins which give the dates out to everyone, I'll get her to make you one."

Aurora digested this. She knew that room, having used it already in her second year. It was a logical place for Harry to seek out now, and she imagined the castle would seek to protect its inhabitants with every measure possible. "Good," she said, nodding. "Okay, good. I have to get back to the common room, there's something I have to deal with, but thank you!"

She turned around, making to leave, then stopped herself. Potter was alone, and far more subdued than usual. In light of what had happened the day before, she had to ask.

"Is everything alright with you, Potter?"

A surprised silence, then, "Yeah."

"Are you lying?"

"Piss off now, Black."

"So, yes."

"Can't you just—"

"I'll get my father's mirror to you after dinner," she told him, "if you won't tell me what's wrong, and are evidently avoiding your friends, you should at least discuss it with him, don't you think?"

He clenched his jaw and looked away in annoyance, but said through gritted teeth, "Yeah. Thanks, Black."

"My pleasure," she said coolly, and swept back into the corridor, extinguishing her wand.

-*

The DA meeting was the very next night at eight o'clock. Aurora arrived early at ten to, and sat awkwardly in a room filled with crash mats, sparring dummies, and duelling books, hoping desperately that she had been given the correct room and not ruined it for everybody else.

Thankfully, she was saved from her anxiety by Harry, Hermione, Ronald, and Neville entering together at five to the hour. Neville stopped in his tracks, staring at her with wide eyes. "What are you doing here?"

"Well, currently I'm feeling rather bored," she said lightly, "but I'm here for the same reason you are — to learn. If that's alright with you, of course." She raised her eyebrows, daring him to complain, but Neville was easy, really, not even opposition.

Tough evidently surprised, he grinned, and said, "Welcome to the DA then, I guess. Why didn't you say anything, Harry?"

Potter shrugged. "Slipped my mind."

"You know Smith won't like this."

"Yeah, well, Smith's a git." Potter shrugged. "Come on, I want to set up for duelling, you lot can give me a hand."

Aurora set about helping him move the mats and dummies about, ignoring the gaggle of chatter around her right up until Elise bounded over, Clara in tow, beaming. "You came!" she cried, satchel swinging wildly at her side. Heads turned to her where they hadn't before, and a slew of whispers broke out across the hall before dying out quickly when Aurora cast about a sweeping, scathing gaze. "Oh."

"Is there something newsworthy happening that I don't know about?" Aurora drawled, watching the room and the surprised, suspicious faces all before her. "Do tell, it's frightfully boring here."

"What's she doing here?" a Hufflepuff, whom she was certain was Zacharias Smith, asked, aghast.

"I was invited," Aurora told him with false saccharinity. "Personally."

Smith whirled around to look at Potter. "I thought we were no Slytherins allowed! She's a snake, she's probably going to go straight to Umbridge the second she gets out of here!"

"Aurora's not going to tell Umbridge anything," Harry told Smith firmly, "I asked her here, and I'd much rather have her than you, so if that's a problem, I reckon you're the one that should get out."

Smith muttered something under his breath which she could not make out. "I'd rather you spoke up if you're going to have a tantrum," Aurora told him loudly. "At least then it's easier for me to tell you why you're talking out your arse."

Beside Smith, Ernie choked on a laugh, looking at her with red cheeks. Elise giggled and leaned up to whisper, "We don't like him either. Harry said he's a stupid git and not to listen to anything he says."

"I just want to know why you think we can trust her. I'm not comfortable with a Slytherin here."

"Charms class must be a misery," Aurora said, eyebrows raised.

"She's a right bitch, too," Smith said, and Aurora smirked. "And her family are all Dark wizards, everyone knows that, she's related to Bellatrix Lestrange for crying out loud, and mates with Malfoy's lot — and she's one of the Slytherin Quidditch Team, she'll probably try and murder us all the first chance she gets."

"Aurora's my godsister," Potter said, before Aurora could inform Smith that he was top of her list if she did decide to become a mass murderer, "and she's my friend. I trust her because she saved my life, multiple times, but neither one of us has to defend ourselves to you, got that?"

Smith tutted. "This is ridiculous. I won't put up with it."

"Get out, then," Fred Weasley snapped at him, and he glared. "Do us all a favour."

Smith did not, instead retreating silently into the crowd. Aurora sent the two boys a grateful look.

"If no one else would like to tirade on their lousy perceptions of my character flaws, I think Potter wanted a hand setting up duelling positions."

No one said anything, and so Aurora turned back to the mat she was lifting, to drag it across the room. Slowly, the rest of the room followed suit, starting to speak among themselves again. Likely, they were still talking about her, but at least she didn't have to hear them accuse her of being a dark wizard and lumped in with her cousins, as just another cruel member of the Black family. Maybe she had played a hand in making them think so, maybe it was her own fault for failing to cut ties with Draco sooner and prove that they were not the same.

"Sorry about Smith," came Ernie MacMillan's jovial voice a few moments later, as Aurora was pulling a dummy into place. "Here, let me get that for you."

Even though she was perfectly capable of moving it herself, Aurora let Ernie take the dummy and move it into position with the mat. He grinned at her, as though he considered it a great accomplishment. "Zacharias is… Well, he's not one to keep quiet when he's something to say."

"That much was rather obvious," Aurora said, rolling her eyes. "I've dealt with far worse, MacMillan, believe me."

"Personally, I think it's brilliant you're here. Leah's always telling me you're a great duellist."

"Really?"

Ernie nodded. "Oh, yes, she's quite a high opinion of you. She's always telling our father how she thinks you've great ideas about the way things should be run."

"…Right," Aurora said slowly, confused and somewhat suspicious of the conversation. She liked Leah well enough, and knew the other girl liked her, and they were certainly getting along well these days, but she did not know that Leah liked her well enough to commend her to her father. "Well, thank you, MacMillan. That's very kind."

Ernie frowned at her. "You know, Black, I was wondering—"

"Alright, everyone?" Harry yelled, and the room fell silent. Ernie stepped away from Aurora, much to her relief. "We're going to start with a recap from last term, so I'll sort you all into pairs to duel. Aurora, I'll catch you up on the sort of spells you can expect, but don't worry if you can't keep up."

"You have so little faith in me, Potter," she drawled coldly, though she knew he was mostly teasing. The students around them didn't seem to know that, though, some gazes darting anxiously towards her again. It was both amusing and infuriating how they decided so quickly that they did not like her or want her there, that so many were innately and immediately suspicious of her very presence.

Potter shuffled them into pairs, and Aurora ended up with Luna Lovegood, the Ravenclaw she had met on the train in September. Luna seemed as dreamy as ever, but she was a surprisingly quick duellist, if easily distracted. Aurora soon realised that her best line of defense was to produce a bouquet of flowers, the surprise of which, and the curiosity produced, would cause Luna to falter. Any other situation, the girl was a sharp and inventive duellist, throwing out many spells which Potter had not mentioned and which Aurora had never heard of. Some didn't work, but others were frightfully clever, causing her confusion, or to stumble, or making her wand flip itself from one hand to the other.

It was evident from the first duel how good a job Potter had done of teaching everyone here. She could see his style — fluid but firm, defensive but quick and clever — in Luna's, and in the duels of many of the other students around her. He had done well, she hated to admit.

"Well?" Harry asked her an hour later, after many rounds of duelling and technique correction, as Aurora helped him to pack up the classroom. "How did you find that?"

"You really want my opinion?"

"Well, I figured you'd give it at some point either way."

Aurora laughed, shaking her head. "It was good. Truly. You can see how everyone looks up to you, which is a feat in itself — especially for a little git like you."

"Cheers, Black."

"Seriously, though. I can't think of any reason to doubt your teaching."

"High praise."

She grinned and looked over her shoulder, seeing Cho Chang linger by the door with the same admiring look as many of the girls in the DA, whether Harry had noticed it or not. "We should hurry this up," she whispered, "I think you've got an admirer."

Harry snuck a glance over his shoulder then turned back sharply, blushing. "You think?"

"She's clearly got eyesight issues, but yes."

"Hm. Well." He suppressed a smile. "Good. I mean, I'm not surprised."

"Oh, sweet Merlin, I can't deal with you developing an ego."

"No, I mean — we snogged before, at the end of term. It was…"

"I don't need details," she cut him off quickly, laughing. "On you go, I'm sure the room will sort this out. I'll leave you two alone." She winked at him, grabbed her satchel, and, leaving him furiously blushing and contemplating his will to live, hurried from the room, grinning at Cho Chang as she went, feeling she had perhaps fulfilled the duties of what Gwen referred to as a 'wingwoman'.

-*

The weekend passed in a flurry of snow, revision, and freezing cold — borderline unsafe — Quidditch practices, throughout which Aurora did her best to ignore her cousin. It had been Theodore's birthday on Friday, and their now-shattered group of friends, plus Gwen, Robin, and Leah, had spent a deeply uncomfortable half an hour trying to celebrate him in the common room before splintering off into their separate groups. It had done little to improve anybody's mood.

Come Monday, Aurora was sore and irritable, but she had a mission in mind. Pansy had let slip to her on Friday, that Umbridge had started scouting out potential allies among the students — in other words, potential spies. In light of the Azkaban breakout, Education Decree Twenty-Six had been passed, announcing that teachers were strictly prohibited from discussing anything unrelated to classes with their students. Of course, most of the school had taken to this with rightful indignation and joking, particularly aimed towards Umbridge, whose popularity continued to plummet with almost everybody. Nevertheless, there were some — mainly Slytherins — whose family relations and ambitions meant they had a duty to stay on her good side, one which Umbridge herself was clearly willing to wield to her own advantage.

After dinner, before her still-scheduled — and now even more illicit — meeting with Dumbledore, Aurora pulled Pansy aside to 'study' in her bedroom. Pansy was one of the few who still spoke to her normally, and Aurora knew she was struggling with Potions at the moment. A little extra tutoring, she knew, would be enough to warm her old friend back up to her again, along with a healthy dose of guilt. It was for both of their good, she reasoned with herself. As her friend, Pansy had a duty to tell her important information anyway, and she at least hoped that it would have been in the back of her friend's mind to share the details with her.

"A lot of this is common sense," Aurora told Pansy as they looked over mineral properties, "once you understand the basic. I think your problem right now is memory, which is fine — the exam's still months away. Right now, it's like trying to put a puzzle together, but only being able to see the shape of the pieces, and not the picture on it. You don't know why they fit together."

"But I'll never get it in my head," Pansy complained, "I don't know the difference between moonstone and moonbane and moonshine, or why a bezoar actually works! It just does!"

"And knowing that is pretty useful for saving a life, but not for brewing a long-term antidote to a poison. And a bezoar works because it is essentially a collection of matter inside the stomach of a goat, which has undergone a semi-transformation itself."

"But I don't get why the transformation's important."

"Because it has a reversive effect on the poison. It'll loosen the components of the poison enough to alter the digestive process. It's like Golpalott's Third Law, how you need to find an ingredient which will act as a conductor or binding agent for the ingredients in the antidote to allow it to undergo that semi-alchemical transformation; the bezoar itself is that agent and carries the transformative properties necessary to act as an antidote to common poisons, at least in the short-term, by either undoing or slowing down the reaction caused by the poison — does that make sense?"

Pansy stared at her. "…Yes…"

"Are you sure?"

"…No." She threw her parchment down in protest. "This is ridiculous! This isn't even about bezoars!"

"Okay, yeah, but it's the principle — the important thing in potions is not just the individual properties of the ingredients, but how they interact on both physical and magical levels. Knowing their properties, and what they are commonly used alongside, will help you make those connections. I have some charts, if that helps. They're a bit messy, because there's so much crammed in, but they are colour coded!"

Pansy did not seem to appreciate the mention of colour-coding, even though Aurora thought it was rather exciting. She let out a groan and flopped down face-first on Aurora's pillow, and mumbled something incoherent.

"You've still got months, Pansy," Aurora said, patting her shoulder. "Don't panic. Listen, let's put Potions aside for a moment, take a break from crushed beetles."

"Please," Pansy mumbled, and turned over to look at her. "My head feels like it's going to explode."

Aurora laughed, and shoved their study materials onto her bedside table, flipping over onto her side. "Okay," she said, "I do need some gossip. I've been so bored without talking to you!"

"Me too," Pansy whined, grinning as she grabbed Aurora's hands. "Caria Greengrass made the most ridiculous jelly at Christmas this year, and I didn't have anyone to laugh about it with, for Lucille wasn't there, Millie was bored of me, and Daphne would have taken great offence. But it was shaped like a giant purple hand!"

Aurora laughed, imagining the scene. Lady Greengrass always was known for her inventive food — it was usually intended to be looked at instead of eaten, not that that meant much. "Was there a reason why?"

"Not that I could glean. And, then, as I was being bored on my own and contemplating this, I overheard tell that the Carrows have been importing all of their wine from a Muggle winery in France, completely bypassing the connections they have through the Malfoys, which must be why Narcissa's fallen out with them — why they chose Muggles, I don't know, presumably it's because they're in debt and trying to cut corners." Her face fell after a moment and she looked down, mumbling, "I probably shouldn't be telling you that."

"If it helps, Leah and I caught Conall Edris snogging Deirdre O'Raighne at the MacMillans' Hogmanay party."

Pansy gasped, scandalised. "But Edris is basically engaged-to-be-engaged to Deirdre's cousin! Niamh, wasn't it?"

"Not anymore, according to Leah. I suspect there'll either be a new engagement announced by the summer, or one of them will go on a spontaneous and mysterious trip to France. I hope for their sake's it all works out well, though."

"Me too," Pansy said, with a frown, "it must have been difficult, if they had feelings for one another, to hide that."

"Well, I'm not sure they did have feelings. It was only a kiss. But there does seem to have been scandal. Anyway — I do have to say the MacMillans' circle is frightfully dull, for the most part. Young lovers is as exciting as it gets. There's more going on at Hogwarts than ever seems to go through the minds of those people."

Pansy went quiet for a moment, and Aurora fixed her gaze upon her. "Like I said." Pansy bit her lip. "There's some stuff I probably shouldn't be telling you."

"But…?"

Pansy gave her a tired look. "Aurora, I can't."

Aurora feigned innocence. "Can't what?"

"I — you're not subtle, you know." She let out a long-suffering sigh. "Fine. I told you Umbridge is recruiting people. She seems to think a significant minority of students are in breach of Education Decree whatever-it-was — the one about the clubs?"

Aurora let out a laugh. "Gobstones Club failed to fill out the right paperwork, have they?"

Pansy fixed her with a cold stare. "She thinks Harry Potter and Dumbledore are collaborating to create a student rebellion that will overthrow her, and then the Ministry."

Her replying laugh was even louder and more spontaneous than the first, for the absurdity of the scale set in. "That's ridiculous."

"You don't think it's true?"

"Harry Potter hasn't even spoken to Dumbledore in months. The man's basically ignoring him — trust me, they're not collaborating on anything. As for overthrowing the Ministry, Potter doesn't have the ambition for that."

"So you don't know anything about it? You don't think he might?"

Aurora shrugged, trying to act normal, like she was reasoning something out herself rather than depending on what she already knew. "Well, I can never entirely rule out anything Potter might do. He is a bit of a loose cannon. But I doubt that's all true. No one would follow him anyway, and he doesn't have the leadership qualities. I do think he might've had some thought about a club a while ago, but not a rebellion. He's far too lazy to organise that. The concept of a manifesto would have him running for the Forbidden Forest."

Pansy mulled this over, frowning. "Umbridge seems pretty convinced."

"I'm sure she is," Aurora said, trying to tow the line of what Pansy would expect her to say, if she were telling the truth, and what she could not give away. She's clearly scared. Fear will convince people of anything."

After another long, scrutinising look, Pansy sighed. "You might be right."

"Do you know who she's recruiting? Or rather," she corrected hastily at the nervous look on Pansy's face, "what type of people she's recruiting?"

With a worried, suspicious look, Pansy asked slowly, "Why do you want to know?"

"Well, I think it's a good idea to get on her good side."

"Why?"

"My political position isn't exactly great at the moment, if you hadn't noticed. Umbridge and I disagree on a lot, but I'm sure that there are points where we can help one another. I won't pretend this isn't entirely self-serving of me, but, I don't know. Dumbledore's clearly on the ropes. I need to protect myself — now more than ever."

Pansy chewed her lip, twirling her pink-feathered quill between her fingers.

"Pansy," Aurora said in her pleading voice, "you know I'm scrambling for some way to protect myself, and to distance myself from Potter. He's dangerous now, everything's dangerous… If you really can't tell me, I understand. But I need something. I'm your friend."

Pansy didn't look like she believed her.

"Pansy, please…"

"I know Draco and Crabbe and Goyle are all working with her. I don't know what job they've been given, but Draco's very proud of himself. She's asked me to keep an eye out for suspicious activity, and I think Drina Bulstrode, too, and Warrington." Cassius. It stung more than it should have, even though she didn't know if he had agreed. He wouldn't have much reason not to, after all. "She's not going to just accept you walking up to her and demanding to help her."

"I am a bit more subtle than that, Pans."

"I know, I know. I… I'll put in a good word for you, if I get the chance. But you've got yourself into this, you know. She's not going to trust that you're not on Potter's side."

"Do you trust that?"

The hesitation told her all that she needed to know.

"Pansy, you know I'm not on any side."

"It hasn't seemed that way recently. And I know there's more to it, but you can't deny you've been closer to him, and he to you."

"Potter and I are on the same side for some things. That doesn't mean I think he's right, or that I don't see the sense in working with the person he's opposing. I can't put all my eggs in one nest, you know? And you said you were on my side, that you'd help me. Prove it."

Pansy sighed, shaking her head. "I know. I'll — I'll let you know. But really, nothing's actually happening at the moment. She's just… Waiting."

"For what?"

"I don't know." Pansy said it too quickly, and snatched her parchment from the bedside table, sitting up. "I have to go, anyway."

"Pansy, we've barely even started—"

"I know, I forgot, I have to see Draco."

"Right." Bitter heat twisted Aurora's chest. "Sure. Go, then. I'll see you later."

Pansy made her way to the door, then stopped, turning to look back at Aurora. "Promise me you're not going to do anything stupid?"

"I never do anything stupid." Pansy raised her eyebrows. "Rash, perhaps — never stupid. I promise, Pans — I'm just trying to look out for myself."

"I know." Pansy looked down, swallowed tightly. "I'm sorry that you need to."

"Yeah," Aurora said softly as her friend opened the door to leave. "Me too."

If Umbridge was waiting for something, biding her time, then Aurora would have to, too. She just hoped she could time things right.