Rita Skeeter's next article was published on Monday morning, an interrogation into the character of the newest addition to the hereditary peerage: Lord Lucius Malfoy. It was, to Aurora's relief, a Prophet piece. Seemingly, Fudge could not find a reason to defend his benefactor, and not when his Ministry was already under attack from other corners.

When Draco read the headline that morning, Aurora watched with a sick mixture of anticipation and heldover guilt as what little colour there was left in his cheeks drained from it, and he gaped at the page.

"Oh, dear," Aurora commented as she opened her own newspaper, feigning surprise, "Draco won't be too happy about this."

"What is it?" Leah asked excitedly, leaning over to read, and gasped. "Oh, he really won't. Look — he's furious." The colour had come back to his cheeks, bright flaming red. Aurora pretended not to see him. "My father, on the other hand, will be dancing around his office." With a gleeful smile, she read the page along with Aurora, taking in the mentions of embezzled funds, questionable donations, and raids for Dark magic which had been raised many times by the Ministry and not yet fully resolved. "One thing about Skeeter — you might not like her, but she does not give a shit about that."

"That's one way to put it," Aurora said, trying to stop the smile pulling at her lips at the underhanded mention of his over-involvement in St. Mungo's. "I do feel bad for Draco, though," she lied, hoping it would mask any suspicion of her involvement. "He has an awful lot going on."

Leah tutted and rolled her eyes. "Don't be ridiculous, Aurora. He wouldn't give a shit if it were you — history shows he hasn't."

And Aurora reminded herself of that again and again, as if the righteous motivation of vengeance absolved her of all sin, all responsibility for the way she mimicked the methods the Malfoys and their allies had used to hurt her, and the way she betrayed her oldest friend. Even the way she relished his dismay and anger, realising with a jolt that somehow, she had come to like wounding him. And she wasn't sure that she was all too comfortable with that side of herself; not when it was directed at Draco. But then, he and his family deserved it, she told herself again. They were perfectly happy to hurt her.

She supposed she should also hope that Skeeter didn't get targeted as a result. But retaliation would be from an obvious source and risk exposing the Death Eaters before they were ready. They wouldn't, not yet.

"Umbridge wants to see you," Pansy informed her later that day, at break. "She thinks you'd make a good addition to the team she's setting up."

A small ember of triumph burned in Aurora's chest. "She does? Oh, Pans, that's—"

"But she is suspicious. She's been monitoring your letters and things, and she hasn't found anything she doesn't want to see, but, I know you've been talking to your father and she said she hardly saw any letters between the two of you."

It was a blow that struck her chest. Of course, she should have made her correspondence appear normal, banal, but everything she wanted to tell her father she usually just told him through the mirror. "She thinks you're hiding something, and she wants to get to the bottom of it. I said that your relationship with him's strained so that's why, but, I know that's not really all that true."

"I suspected she was monitoring my letters. I didn't want to put anything..." She couldn't go any further. She couldn't give Pansy any reasonable explanation, and her friend was looking at her with her own suspicion.

"You have another way to communicate with him, don't you? The same Potter uses, I imagine?"

Aurora frowned at her, feigning confusion. "We both just use letters, like everybody else."

"No, you don't. Umbridge has been checking your post, and I know you know that. So how have you been talking to your father, and your cousins?"

Aurora floundered. "I — I've only been writing. I'm sure Umbridge hasn't seen all my post, and I am good at not giving away important things."

Pansy shook her head. "No. You're lying to me, Aurora. Look." She took her arm, lowering her voice. "I just want you to be careful. Umbridge is going to catch on sooner or later, and if you're doing something she wouldn't approve of, we need to make sure she doesn't find out."

"I'm only using letters. I am!"

"Why are you lying to me?"

"Why do you think?" Pansy recoiled, visibly hurt, and guilt rang through Aurora's chest. "Pans, I'm sorry, I just — I can't tell you. But she won't find it, I can assure you of that."

"You can't tell me?" Pansy asked with a derisive sound. "Why not? Who's stopping you?"

Only herself. But Pansy's persistence scared her and she didn't know why. "No one. It just has to be secret. But you don't need to know — it won't be discovered. And there are no rules against it, either, so Umbridge has no reason to be upset, or any way to know what we discuss. It's fine."

"But are you sure that Umbridge can't get to it? If I knew, I could throw her off the scent—"

"I have it under control," Aurora told her, with a warning look. "Look, I don't want this to be a fight. It really doesn't need to be." Pansy really didn't need to know.

"I don't like you hiding things from me."

"You've hidden things from me. Let me have this one."

Pansy swallowed tightly, taking a step back. "I'm worried about you, Aurora. Draco suspects you had a hand in that article about his father, and in that anonymous letter to the Warlock Post, and in Potter's interview. He's angry, and if he gives Umbridge reason to suspect you, for anything, you could be in real trouble. I know you want to defend yourself by staying on her good side, you're not going to do that if you're getting yourself into trouble with him. His father is friends with Umbridge, or have you forgotten? What reflects badly on him reflects badly on the Ministry, and what's more, is that Draco reports to her. You're being foolish, all for some agenda."

"I don't have an agenda."

Pansy scoffed. "Come on, Aurora. You can lie well enough, but I know you. I know you're angry, I know you always want an upper hand, I know you're flailing trying to find one but I promise you, your hand is not as good as you think it is. Just… Listen to me."

"I am listening, Pans." She swallowed tightly. "I promise, I'm being safe."

Pansy sighed, and let a moment of silence pass between them, before she pinched her brow and said, "Good. Because I think Umbridge might accept you, after all."

Her heart raced at the news. "You do?"

"But that does not mean you're safe, if anything it makes your position more precarious. You can't put a foot wrong with her, Aurora."

"I know," she said, grinning, "and I won't. I've got this, Pans — and I won't let you down, either. I know you must have a lot riding on this, putting my name forward."

"You have no idea."

Aurora stepped forward and clasped her hands, her earlier tension dissipating somewhat. "Thank you. Really, truly, from the bottom of my heart. Thank you."

It was such a relief, that another friend was standing by her, actively trying to help her. It was all she wanted, to be supported, to have someone make that active choice to stand on her side. Even better that it was Pansy, even better that it made her feel like she had another edge over Draco and over Umbridge.

-*

It was only two days later that Aurora was called into Umbridge's office. Two separate notes had landed on the Slytherin Table that lunchtime; one for Aurora, and one for Theo, both on the same ghastly pink parchment. They exchanged glances — Aurora trying to hide her anticipation, Theo masking his own confusion — as they opened them, to reveal Umbridge's swirling script.

Dear Miss Black, her note read.

I request your presence in my office for a spot of tea and an informal chat about your schoolwork after class this afternoon. As I shall be inspecting your Care of Magical Creatures class in seventh period, I think it reasonable that you accompany me to the castle from there.

Best wishes,

Professor Dolores Umbridge, High Inquisitor of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Senior Undersecretary to the Minister for Magic, Cornelius Fudge

"Don't tell me you've been invited for tea, too?" Theodore asked, glancing over.

"This evening, after Care of Magical Creatures."

"Ah. I'm right after dinner. You know what it's about?"

"I have my suspicions," she said slowly, glancing to Pansy up the table. "Don't you?"

Theo nodded grimly. "She's been dropping hints about some… Group, for a while. Draco has, too."

"Are you in?"

"Well, that depends what she says," he said. "But if you are…" Aurora suppressed a smile. "I'll consider it. I don't like the idea, but it might help keep Grandfather off my back for a while — depending on what's expected of me."

Aurora sat impatiently through their classes all day, including Care of Magical Creatures, which was a theory-based class involving a lot of studying and drawing of diagrams. Now she knew his artistic tendencies, Aurora was attuned to Theodore's drawing skills in the class, watching as he formed diagrams far better proportioned and dynamic than she could ever manage.

At the end of the class, she met with Umbridge, who said with a saccharine smile, "Hold on just a moment for me, dear, I've to write up a report for Professor Hagrid."

She stood awkwardly, waiting with Umbridge as the rest of the class cleared, trying to avoid Ron Weasley's suspicious glare. Umbridge said something to Hagrid which made him blanche and fret about with his hands, before she beckoned Aurora to follow and led the way up to her office.

It was just as garish and horrifically pink as she remembered. "Take a seat, dearie," Umbridge simpered, gesturing to the plush armchair before her desk. Aurora sat down gingerly, placing her satchel, double-sealed, on the floor beneath her. "How do you take your tea?"

"Drop of milk, one sugar, if you would, Professor."

Umbridge smiled. Aurora watched her carefully, just in case she tried to slip anything into the tea, but she did not. That was a relief. She wouldn't have put it past her to dose her with some veritaserum, to be on the safe side, but perhaps she was saving that for later. One did tend to realise once they were under its influence; if Umbridge was suspicious, the last thing she would want to do was alert Aurora to that. But equally, that meant that if Umbridge did hold suspicions about Aurora's intentions — and she wasn't stupid, so Aurora was sure that she must — then she would seek to use her, too.

"Miss Parkinson gives you a glowing recommendation, Miss Black," Umbridge told her, handing over a cup of tea.

"Thank you, Professor. Though I'm sure Pansy exaggerates — we have been friends for a very long time." Umbridge liked humility, liked young witches and wizards who wouldn't make a fuss or get too big for their boots. There was little use in pretending that she did not have her own motivations, but a little modesty could go a long way.

"Ah, yes." Umbridge's eyes glimmered as she sat down. "So I gather. Though one could be forgiven for thinking otherwise."

Aurora blinked. "I'm not sure I understand, Professor."

"I merely meant that your company increasingly seems to fall outside of the group Miss Parkinson frequents."

"Oh. Well, yes, I suppose. I am close with Leah MacMillan, and Gwendolyn Tearston, though Pansy and Daphne Greengrass join us from time to time. I suppose it is merely the reality of growing older — I like to think Pansy and I have a closer bond than that dictated by schoolyard politics. We've been friends so long, it feels like we'll always be tied to one another, no matter how we change or grow." How she wished that she believed her own words.

"How sweet," Umbridge said, smiling. "And your friendship with Draco Malfoy."

She tried not to let the tension that overtook her show in her body. "Ah. Again, a childhood friend, but I'm afraid we have not remained so steadfast. These things happen, though."

Umbridge gave her an assessing, critical look. "Of course they do. How wretched when such a thing occurs, though. His mother, I must say, still speaks highly of you."

That was news to Aurora, and despite her better wishes, it filled her with a rush of joy and validation she hadn't even realised she still craved. "Narcissa is my cousin, on my father's side. We haven't spoken in some time, but we have always been close." She let out a wry sort of laugh. "Funnily, when I was growing up, she was the youngest woman around me, at least within my family. My great-grandfather used to say…" She trailed off, as though the words were unexpected to her and she needed to process what she said. But she decided there that she had to give Umbridge as much truth as she had reason to. Evading questions would get her nowhere, only raise Umbridge's suspicions of her. "Well, he understood how important we were to one another. And still are, of course."

"Narcissa is your father's cousin, is she not?" Aurora nodded. Umbridge leaned back in her chair with a smug, yet curious, smile. "That must be a strange dynamic to manage."

Aurora hesitated. "At times, yes. I try to make them get along, but, it seems stubbornness runs in the family. Everything's been so different…" She let herself trail off and let Umbridge notice it, the downward turn of her gaze, the worry she put into her expression. It was not all so fake. "Sorry, Professor. This was meant to be about class, wasn't it? I don't want to derail by going on about my silly family problems."

"As a matter of fact," Umbridge said slowly, "there was something else I wanted to discuss… Something of a nature too delicate to put in writing."

"Professor?"

"I'm sure you're aware by now that I have been hosting a little group of your classmates. A club, of sorts. Just trusted Slytherins who I believe will go on to do great things, given the correct guidance and influence. I admit, I did not initially think you would want to join such a club."

"Well, I am always looking to better myself, Professor. And it's like I said at the start of term — I intend to make the most of my school career, and to cultivate the best professional relationship with yourself. Regardless of any pre-perceived political connections. I won't pretend that i don't want to get to know you — you have friends in powerful places, and despite my name, I know I need to put in a lot more work to gain the sort of respect commanded by my predecessor."

Umbridge's smile widened, and Aurora's stomach twisted. She could not tell how genuine Umbridge was, if she believed the narrative Aurora was trying to spin. "What is the function of the club, may I ask?"

"Oh, you know… It is mutually beneficial. I ensure that my students — the best and the brightest only — have a place to gather, and establish connections with their peers and my own network." Something Aurora neither really wanted nor needed. Still, she pretended to be interested. "In return, I only ask for my students' loyalty. Something which Pansy Parkinson has promised you will give me."

"Well, yes." She blinked. "Why wouldn't I be… Loyal? As you say?"

"Oh, I'm sure you have an idea, smart girl like you. Your godbrother's been giving me quite a bit of grief."

"I'm not my godbrother," she said, letting her regular annoyance ring even clearer in her face. "He gives me plenty grief, too, believe me. Always has, ever since first year."

"Rumour has it you two have grown close, though, hm? Surely you must share things… Secrets?"

Aurora let out a high laugh. "Potter wouldn't tell me a secret if I had my wand to his throat. He trusts me about as much as he trusts any Slytherin, which is to say, not at all."

"Is that so?" Umbridge's eyebrows were raised. "Is there anything you could do to change that, dear?"

"I — I'm sorry?"

"Well, you know. Potter hasn't exactly kept himself on the right side of the rules this year. Earned himself quite a few detentions." In which the bitch fucking tortured him, Aurora thought with flaring anger, trying to keep up her calm facade. "Now, I have some brilliant students, but none of us have quite managed to work out what it is that Potter's been doing. He has been seen sneaking around, likely in violation of Educational Decree Number 24. But you could be our secret weapon. Of course, I'd help you out. Your societal reputation is, to be frank, in desperate need of repair." Aurora swallowed her natural anger at that statement.

"You're not wrong," she said, casting her eyes downward. "I just… I mean, yes, I — Merlin knows there's no love lost between the two of us. But he will likely be suspicious if I start poking around in his business. He's suspicious even when I smile at him — which, in fairness, I do mainly do to confuse and annoy him. It works very well."

Just enough truth to cover the holes of her lies. Umbridge smiled as though she were being indulged and confided in, and Aurora realised that was what she needed. She needed to think Aurora trusted her, in order than she could trust her in return.

"Well, perhaps that cannot be helped. Potter seems a fragile boy… Suspicious of everything, I'm sure. But you have easier access to him than most, don't you?"

"I suppose. If you compare me to my housemates, certainly."

"You're a bright girl, Miss Black," Umbridge said with a smile. "I'm sure you can find a way to discover Potter's secrets."

Aurora swallowed tightly, pressed her lips together. She felt bile rise in her throat; like she had already betrayed him. She shouldn't have to feel like there was anything to betray; she had always intended to tell Harry if something like this happened. And yet now, she could not shake the feeling that she was doing this all wrong. There was a mistake she was making that she could not yet see, because the error lay deep within her own self.

"I — I will certainly try, Professor. But what exactly is it you want me to… Discover, as you say? I mean, forgive me if I'm wrong, but I imagine you already suspect him of something, yes?"

"Indeed." Umbridge's eyes glimmered. "I assume you recall the circumstances of Education Decreee 24. I discovered just before that decree was implemented, that Potter was intending to form a little group in open rebellion towards me and Ministry policy."

"Oh."

"I now suspect that he has continued this, in defiance of the terms of that Educational Decree, and not only that, he is, by collaborating with Dumbledore, plotting to overthrow my position as Hogwarts High Inquisitor and then turn his sights on the Ministry."

"Oh."

Umbridge narrowed her eyes. "Oh? Is that all you have to say?"

"I mean — im not as surprised as I should be, I think. I'm not sure that Potter's ambitions extend to outright rebellion though. He's too lazy," she clarified, "and unorganised."

"I hear his friend isn't. The muggleborn girl, Granger."

Her stomach twisted. "Perhaps you have a point. Though Granger also much prefers to follow the rules. Respectfully, Professor, I'm not sure that you are right about the intentions — but it does ring true that Potter might have formed some sort of outlawed group." She bit her lip, as though she were thinking very hard. "I have a feeling he mentioned something back in the holidays."

Umbridge's eyes lit and she leaned forward, eager to hear. "Yes? What was it?"

"I can't remember — something about a duelling club type situation? I don't know, it could have been something else — he was telling his friend Ron, when he visited, but they both shut up when they noticed me. But I thought he might have just been telling some story about our fourth year, when we had an official duelling club going. I didn't know he was up to something worthy of reporting."

"A duelling club?" She did not look satisfied. Possibly she had already guessed the nature of the club; it fit with the idea that Harry was starting some sort of rebellious army, and with the information he would have given out back in October. Dumbledore's Army. She was determined now to tear that parchment list apart.

"I think — I'm not sure exactly, it was something of that nature. But I can find out more," she added quickly before Umbridge could even ask, like she was so eager to impress that she was falling over herself. "He doesn't trust me, but I am good at antagonising him, once I know where to aim. And if you're right, it's… I don't exactly think that overthrowing the Ministry is a good idea, for anybody, including myself. I know you know that I haven't always agreed with every Ministry policy—" Umbridge was watching her with a scrutinising look in her eye "—but I do believe in the law. And I think that Albus Dumbledore is one of the worst replacements as Minister possible. It's a terribly frightening prospect."

"Indeed it is. But I'm sure we can stop it, between the two of us, hm? I'm sure you know how much you have to lose here, too."

"Yeah." She nodded. "We can stop it. Potter is... Unruly. He's scared, of what, I'm not entirely sure. But he can be dealt with, I'm sure."

"I'm very glad to hear it," Umbridge said with a saccharine smile, holding her hand out for Aurora to shake. She did so with no small amount of trepidation, and left the office with a sense of both accomplishment and guilt, like she had done something far more terrible than she really had.

She found Theo in the common room before dinner and debriefed him. "I don't know what she'll ask of you," she told him, "but if she asks about my relationship with Potter, say we don't like each other, that he's always suspicious of me, that I disapprove of what he's been saying, alright?"

Theo nodded, running a hand through his hair. "Do you really think Potter's trying to start a rebellion?"

"Merlin, no," she scoffed. "But I think he could be up to something. And it's better that it's stopped now."

He frowned at her, as though trying to decipher some encrypted code behind her eyes. "You're not involved in it, are you?"

"In what?"

"Whatever he's up to."

She grimaced. The lie was on the top of her tongue, about to fall out, but she stopped herself. There was no point to lying, not to Theo. "I was," she said, "but not anymore. I've warned him, and I've quit."

Something like pity crossed his gaze. "Right. I take it you can't say anymore than that?"

"Probably not advisable. I did want to say something before, but no one there likes me anyway and I didn't think anyone'd take well to me sharing it about or trying to bring anyone in. But." She swallowed tightly. "It doesn't matter. It's done now."

He didn't fully believe her, she could tell. Yet, telling him the truth might put him in danger too, if Umbridge found out — because somehow, despite her ever-present, shredded nerves, Aurora was certain that if she were to tell him, he would keep the secret, no matter what. But she could not — would not — put him in that position. Not for her.

"Don't say anything."

"You still think that I would?"

"No. I never did."

A small smile of gratitude and relief flickered on his lips. "Thank you. For telling me, I mean. You think Umbridge'll ask me much the same as she asked you?"

"Probably a bit less interrogation, but yes. Just be careful. I don't think she's as trusting as she wants to put across. But it's not like you've anything to worry about — she'll eat you up."

"I'm not entirely sure that I want her to," Theo said, wrinkling his nose, and Aurora laughed.

"Fair. Now, you'd better get to dinner early, and before me, just in case we make her suspicious. I'll be there in fifteen."

"Where are you going?"

She just grinned and said, "Super-secret-sleuthing."

The corner of his lips lifted into a smile as he stood up, making to leave. "You're impossible, you know. Going to tell me what you're up to?"

"Only when I succeed. Promise it's nothing that serious."

There was still a dubious look in his eye as he bid her goodbye and left. Aurora watched him go fondly for a moment, heart fluttering, before she came to her senses and shook her head. "Don't be an idiot," she muttered to herself, fishing the Marauder's Map from her robe pocket. As she opened it, she immediately went to look for Potter's name, finding him lurking in a fourth floor corridor with Hermione, while the Gryffindor Quidditch Team were down on the pitch. Feeling sorry for himself, no doubt.

This would not make that much better.

She passed them in the thankfully deserted corridor and caught Harry's arm, stopping them. "Come with me," she said softly, "I need to talk to you."

She gave him no time to reply before bundling them all into a nearby broom cupboard, locking the door behind them and going to the back, where no one would well overhear them.

"What the hell are you doing now—"

"Umbridge is onto you, and she wants me to act as a spy for her. I've agreed."

"Are you mental, Black?"

"Maybe. I want to dig up dirt on her in return, but I need her to think I'm on her side — or at least, not on yours. I'm trying to lead her away from the most dangerous theories, but she knows you've got a club going and she's just waiting to find evidence, or for someone to come forward."

"And that's going to be you, is it?"

"No, of course not, are you listening at all? Look, it's only a matter of time, and I'll try and find out if she has any further leads once I'm properly in the group. I certainly have no intentions of hastening the process for her. I can help you stall, but I might have to leave the DA for a bit, cover myself."

"But I was just about to start teaching Patronuses!"

Aurora blinked at him, surprised. "Well, I don't really need to learn that, Potter, so I'm not sure how it'd change anything."

"No, I mean… I was going to ask you to help me teach."

For a moment, all she could do was stare at him. "You think — Potter, I'm a wretched teacher. I half-terrified Neville back in second year. And everyone there annoys me, I could never — but that's not the point. You need to get rid of your class list, Hermione."

"Why?"

"Because Umbridge knows it exists, and if she can find it, she'll punish every single one of you. Just like I told you, Potter." She shook her head, and leaned against the cold stone with a sigh. "Look, this is all… A lot. I'm not totally sure how I'm going to achieve anything, but my goal is to dig up information on Umbridge - get evidence of her using blood quills, of how she's gotten the information she has about the DA and others, see if I can track down any of her correspondence with the Ministry. I know there's got to be something we can use to inspire anger, to try and bring her and Fudge down. But trust me? I'll try and keep her off the scent, I'll report to you when things get dangerous."

"But why are you doing this?"

"I'm not trying to fuck you over, if that's what you mean—"

"No, I know that!" Potter shouted, more forcefully than she had expected. Aurora blinked, surprised by the outburst, as anger glinted in his eyes. "God, stop acting like I'm stupid!"

"I am not acting like—"

"Why are you doing this? Why do you think you have to? All you ever do is whine about everything you have to do, how dangerous your little life is, and now you're going to let her take this from me?"

"I'm not letting her take it from you, I'm trying to protect you—"

"I don't need protecting!" His voice rose dangerously, and Aurora's heart pounded. She didn't like the crackle of anger and fire in the air, like the feeling before a thunderstorm, oppressive, stifling, and hot. "Least of all from you!"

"Where on earth is this coming from?"

"All year you've said, your position is dangerous, you have to stay on Umbridge's good side — why?"

"Because I—" She floundered. "I have to. I can't — I can't expose myself, I can't… I need to be able to find out what she's up to. The Ministry is hiding something, everything, and her use of the blood quill. If I can evidence that… I want to destroy them, Potter. You never heard the saying keep your enemies close?"

"She knows you're enemies. She's always known it, it's only ever you who pretends like people like you."

"Well, that's just rude."

"She's not going to trust you. You do know that?"

"Why do you care? If I fuck myself over, what's it to you? I'm doing this to help you! You need someone on the inside or you would be completely unprepared for when she does discover you. I'm telling you this because I'm on your side, Potter, because I trust you and I hope that you trust me. But I suppose it makes sense that you don't. After all this, things haven't changed that much."

She went to grab the door handle behind her, but Hermione stopped her, with a hand on her arm and a pleading expression.

"Don't fight," she told them both, "please. It doesn't help anyone."

"It's what we do, Hermione. Don't worry your little head."

"Don't talk to her like that," Harry snapped, even though Aurora was already feeling the condescending sting of her own words.

She clenched her jaw. "Sorry. Really. That was rude of me. And to you — don't say I didn't warn you when it all comes crashing down."

"But you'll be out of the crash zone, right? You'll be safely with Umbridge, like the coward you are. That's why you do this—"

"I've just told you why—"

"You're still a coward. You still won't stand by what you actually believe in and what you're fighting for, you're just saying you will, one day, when you're ready, and then you're hiding."

His words stung, ice cold in her heart. She stared him down, feeling a hex on her lips, but refused to reach for her wand. That would only confirm what he wanted her to do. Even now, even when she thought he knew her better.

"I'm not a coward," she told him, even as she doubted the words. "I'm not. I'm trying to do something with more impact than petty student rebellion, and I'm sorry that you can't see far enough in front of you to realise that there are steps to be taken to do that."

"I do," Potter snapped. "I hear what you're saying, Aurora, but I know you, too. You're covering your own back, too. Don't think you've fooled us into thinking you do anything out the goodness of your heart."

She turned back to him, a glare burning behind her eyes. "Maybe I don't. Or maybe, I'm trying to work out how to fight for what I believe in, without getting killed before I can achieve some actual change."

"Umbridge isn't going to kill you."

"Someone will try."

"You don't think I know what it feels like? But I'm not hiding from Voldemort!"

"It's not the same, Potter! You're just trying to stay alive! And that's a very valid motivation, don't get me wrong, but you want to fight Voldemort and win and that's it, but if Fudge is still in power and doesn't even acknowledge what's happening? Or if people like Umbridge, who'd have any manner of magical creatures killed because she doesn't like them, who'd be perfectly happy with the eradication of Muggleborns if it served her, are allowed to keep power? Then this is just going to keep going on and on and I don't know how to fix that, I don't have any answers and I don't even know what questions I'm trying to answer, but I am trying to find them!"

Potter clenched his jaw, glaring at her. "You really think you're going to be able to convince Fudge Umbridge is in the wrong? You think he doesn't know what's going on?"

"I don't know," she said honestly, "but I'm willing to bet most people don't. And public opinion can do a whole lot for someone's place in society."

I'm trying, she wanted to scream at him. Look at me, I'm trying. But trying meant nothing when she didn't feel that she was achieving anything, when the bitter, scared parts of her guilty conscience told her this was all for nothing, would all be for nothing. What was it all for, really? Would she ever do anything of worth?

"You're sure about this?" Hermione asked her gingerly. "If Umbridge finds out..."

"I'm fucked, yes." Hermione winced. "But it's a chance I've got to take." She glanced to Potter, who seemed to have mellowed somewhat. "You know this isn't an affront to you, right? This isn't meant to be some betrayal, this is me doing things differently."

"Yeah," he said, unconvincingly. "I mean... Thanks for warning us."

"Anytime," she told him, and found that she meant it. She held her hand out, taking a deep breath, and after a moment's hesitation, Potter took it, and shook it. "We're okay?"

"Yeah," he said, though he looked rather like he had swallowed something sour. "I guess we are."

"Good. Remember — destroy that list. And you may want to be careful about how frequent meetings are for a little while. I'll tell you if there are any developments, alright?"

"Alright. Thanks. Aurora."

She nodded to him, then unlocked the cupboard. "Don't come out of here until five minutes after me, alright?"

Then she headed to dinner, rejoining her friends, hoping that she didn't wear her guilt on her face as she ruminated over everything that was going on, wondering if she'd ever have more of a plan than mere hope, and how far she felt she had fallen, that she no longer even knew what she was trying to do.

"Are you alright?" Leah asked her as they headed for dance practice afterwards. "You seem a bit out of it."

"I'm fine," she replied, forcing a smile. "Don't worry about it."

"Is this about your meeting with Umbridge? Did she give you anything juicy?"

"Nothing like that. Well… I don't know. I don't think I can talk about it. Certainly not in the middle of the corridor."

But she did want to tell Leah. Some part of her felt that Leah would understand, would see the line she was walking but more importantly, would be able to walk it with her. At least partly. A MacMillan in Slytherin, a young woman whose ambitions clearly were at odds with what her family expected of her, who understood Aurora's need to please people even while rebelling against their thoughts, and who understood just how fragile safety was.

"I think I might be able to get some dirt on her," she whispered to Leah, making sure there was no one in earshot. "Her methods of punishment and gathering information can't be condoned, and even if they are, surely exposing that could do some damage to the Ministry, don't you think?"

Leah's eyes widened and she nodded eagerly. "But how? D'you really think she trusts you?"

"No. Not fully, not as much as she needs to. But this is a start, and I just need her to trust me enough that I can access her. Pansy's helping, she put in a good word for me."

"You think you can trust Parkinson?" Leah asked, scoffing, and something uncomfortable twisted in Aurora's gut. She wasn't sure how to answer that. "I do like her, you know."

"No, you don't."

"Well," Leah said, cocking her head, "I don't hate her. She's alright. But she's on a different side to us, she has to be, so it doesn't really matter."

Doesn't really matter. Aurora wasn't sure if she agreed or not, but she failed to come up with a defense. But Leah seemed to think nothing of it. It was like she, somehow, just knew who she needed to be and needed to be around, like she could so easily just cast off those who didn't fit her world. In some ways, Aurora envied her that ability.

"You think I shouldn't trust her?"

Leah shrugged. "I'm not saying that, you know her better than I do. But, I'm just saying. She's not one of us."

Aurora envied her the ability to make that sound so simple.