"Who's the half-blood Prince?" Harry asked Aurora as he bounded up to her in the Entrance Hall on Sunday morning, just as she was heading out for the Slytherin Quidditch team tryouts.

"The what?" Aurora turned to glare at him, coming to a stop.

"Half-blood prince." He stared at her, expectant.

Aurora stared back, quite bemused. "We don't have princes, Potter. I'd have though you might have worked that one out by now."

"You don't have to say it like that."

"You don't have to ask stupid questions," she bit back, folding her arms, green cloak sleeves billowing around her. "Who's told you there's a half-blood prince?"

"No one. I just read it somewhere and I was curious."

She narrowed her eyes, skeptical. "Read it in what?"

"Just some textbook."

"What textbook?"

He floundered, grasping for an answer. "Charms?"

She almost laughed at his bullshit attempt. "I've read that textbook back to front." Harry winced. "There's no mention of a half blood Prince, who does not exist." She tilted her head, intrigued. "Has this got something to do with those classes you're having with Dumbledore? Have you started those already? Is that where you were last night, instead of Slughorn's dinner?"

"No, that's — it's something separate entirely, believe me. But you're sure you've never heard of this prince?"

"Harry," Aurora sighed, leaning against the wall. "No, I have not heard of this prince. There is no Wizarding monarchy, you should have figured that out by now. I suppose it's possible that there was some Muggle prince who was actually a half blood, or some sort of intermarriage, but I haven't heard of it, and Arcturus made me memorise all of those sorts of things."

He stared at her, with a look as though he was seriously trying to decide whether or not she was lying. "Right. You're sure?"

"Yes, Harry." She narrowed her eyes at him, intrigued. "Why is this such a big deal — I know this isn't something you picked up in a textbook." He pursed his lips. "If you were a better liar, you could at least have claimed it was from Herbology." Letting out a loud sigh, she straightened up and shot him a cold look. "But if you're not going to tell me, I have Quidditch tryouts to get to."

He opened his mouth, and for a moment Aurora thought he might tell her, but then he stopped. "Yeah. Yeah, just — do you know anything about the Gaunt family?"

That question stopped her just as she was about to leave. Aurora turned back, staring at him. "Where on earth did you hear that name? Another textbook?"

"That was from Dumbledore's lesson last night. You know about them?"

"Of course I do. They're another one of the Sacred Twenty-Eight — it's this ridiculous thing someone came up with a few decades ago, about the most prestigiously pure blooded families. Definitely not half-blood princes. They were descended from Slytherin, allegedly, and they took the pureblood thing to a whole other level. Most families, you would get a few halfbloods that slipped through the cracks, but apparently they wouldn't marry anyone into the family unless they could prove twelve generations of completely pure lineage. They ended up mostly marrying their own cousins, in the end, and all went mad. Arcturus said it was a lesson, but then my grandparents were also their own cousins, so I'm not sure he learned much from it." Realising she was rambling, Aurora stopped, regaining herself. "Why?"

Harry stared at her, nodding slowly as though taking time to digest this. "Just... Curious."

That was a lie. "Harry."

"Have I told you everything about when the chamber of secrets opened?" he asked, cautious.

Surprised, Aurora shrugged. "I picked up on some things about Ginny, and about Voldemort..." she started, waging his reaction. He looked uncertain, gaze flickering away as he ran his hands through his hair. "But I never got the full story."

Harry nodded, frowning. "Right. Look, I'll let you get to your Quidditch trials — but remind me to tell you. It's important."

"Alright," she said, still confused, "I'll speak to you tonight, if I'm not too busy?"

"Yes," Harry agreed, backing away. "I'll meet you behind the tapestry of Merlin? Eight o'clock?"

This seemed awfully official, Aurora thought, but she nodded in agreement. "See you then, Potter."

He was definitely hiding something. Aurora rolled her eyes as she walked away, knowing she really ought to look into it before whatever this mystery was fucked things up again, but she did not have the time. Quidditch had to take priority, and given the state of the current team — which so far was just her and her reserves, given that when she had asked Vincent and Greg about retaking their positions, they had done nothing more than grunt and walk away — it was going to be taking up a lot of her energy this year.

Even having arrived early, there were a dozen Slytherin students already gathered on the Quidditch pitch when Aurora arrived. Those who had not, like her, though to put a rain-dispelling charm around themselves were soaked through and chittering; they looked pathetic, but at least Aurora had some respect for their perseverance.

A few of the students she recognised; Erin Lynch, a third year who had tried out last year; Lewis Stebbins, one of the few not shivering from the rain; Corin Selwyn, a seventh year and Frida's older cousin. Aurora busied herself pretending to tidy up brooms and equipment by the benches, trying to work herself up to making a speech and while the time away until tryouts could start. She supposed she could mingle and make conversation with them, but she couldn't figure out how to start.

The moment the time on her watch ticked over to ten o'clock, she turned around, taken aback by the close to seventy students who had somehow amassed while her back was turned. All this for her? For Quidditch? Robin was there, too, having joined Stebbins. He waved at her, grinning, and as she waved back, something twisted wrongly in her chest. They had hardly spoken since they returned to school; she busy with Gwen and he with Theo, and though nothing was wrong between them, it felt like there was, or ought to be, and she missed his laughter and shit jokes. It wasn't fair, she thought to herself, as her hand dropped and he turned back to Stebbins.

But she had to keep on with what she had.

"Alright!" she shouted, stepping forward. The crowd went quiet, turning one by one towards her. She smiled. At least she could command people. That was a rush. If she kept smiling and kept her voice strong, she might convince them that she knew what she was doing. "As you've probably noticed, there are a lot of you, and one of me, so you'd better listen up. The first round is flight testing. I'll sort you into groups based on the position you chose to try out for, and have you race your opponents. Only the top five Keepers and Seekers, and top ten Beaters and Chasers, will move into the next round." Mutterings of complaints, but Aurora continued, "Sorry, but if you can't keep up with the team, there's no point. We're building this team more or less from scratch; our opponents are quick and they know each other better. We need to be faster, and more agile, and I have to be ruthless. If that's too daunting, you can leave now." Nobody moved. She smiled thinly and clasped her hands. "Good. I'll call your names and you can get in line."

It took ages to sort everybody into their groups; three giggling second years kept running about and disrupting her organisation, until Aurora caught them and sent them packing to the castle to learn some discipline. Everyone else fell into line rather quickly after that.

The prospective Seekers went off first; twenty-seven of them in total, all hoping to be the one to finally best Potter. None of them were good enough, Aurora knew from just one lap. "Let me see some technique," she shouted from her own broom, hovering a few feet off the ground. A few people tried half-hearted dives; Tudor Riley did a flip and almost went careening into the stands. She gritted her teeth, and tightened her grip on the handle, itching to get up there and show them how to really fly, and fly well.

By the end of it, she had managed to only cobble together the flimsiest of teams. As Chasers, herself with Felix Vaisey, and James Urquhart. As Keeper, she had grudgingly admitted the fourth year Arran Wilson, a quick, agile flier who had an impressive knack for anticipating Chasers' moves. The Beaters, were a difficult match, but she had settled eventually on Lucia Cain, a stocky fifth year, and a seventh year, Corin Selwyn. She wanted to be able to put Robin in there, but he wasn't quite as good as either of them, and there was no natural pairing for him unless she put him with Stebbins, who had proven hopeless the moment he hit himself with his own bat. The role of Seeker, she kept open as long as possible, deliberating over it all evening in the common room.

By far the best flyer left was Brandon Harper. He was quick, agile, and technically capable, but he was still no match for Harry, and his perception of the snitch was poor. On the other hand, there was Erin Lynch, a third year with a keen eye, but little in the way of technical skill, and who kept hesitating once she got close to the snitch, too nervous and unsure to really pounce.

In the end, she drew up the list of reserves: Erin and Brandon, along with second year Lucy Farley. They needed to get together as a team as soon as possible, she knew. But if she was going to get the best Seeker possible, they were going to have to work for it, whoever it was, she would make sure of that. By keeping the position open, she decided, she would force them to work harder in competition for it, and thus, push them to be better than they had showed in the trial. And if it didn't work, then, she would just have to sub herself in, and shove one of them into a Chaser spot and hope Felix and James could cover the change.

Whatever happened, and by whatever means, Slytherin had to win this year. She didn't think her pride could suffer anything less.

-*

Harry, true to his word, was waiting for her after dinner in the secret alcove off the fifth floor corridor. "Quidditch trials go well?" he asked, presumably as a form of greeting. Aurora frowned at him.

"I'm not telling you anything confidential. I've got a team, and that's all you're getting to know."

Harry sighed. "Do you have to assume I'm trying to get information out of you?"

"Yes," she said shortly, "you're my rival captain. And speaking of, I've still to make my announcement and I'm sure the Slytherin Common Room will be baying for my blood when I do, so try and make this quick."

"It is quite a long story," he said with a grimace, sliding down the wall to sit on a dusty ledge.

Rolling her eyes, Aurora went to sit next to him, legs stretched out before her. "Tell me, then."

"Well — obviously you know about all the people that were Petrified, right? And you know that when Ginny was taken into the chamber of secrets, Ron and I went to rescue her, and we caught the heir, and everything?"

"And that at some point in that, Ginny was possessed by Voldemort." Harry blinked. "I worked that out last Christmas — I have to say, hearing that just being thrown into conversation was very odd. And I assume, this means Voldemort was possessing Ginny because he was the heir — I know he was a Slytherin, anyway. Right?"

Harry have a firm nod, bracing his hands on his knees. "Right. You're right — it was Voldemort. But when he went to Hogwarts, he wasn't known as Voldemort. His name was Tom Riddle." Aurora did not know any wizards with that surname. "He was descended from Slytherin on his mum's side, but his dad was a Muggle."

"No! Really?"

Harry nodded. "That's why he took the new name — didn't want to be associated with him, not when he was carrying on the way he was. And anyway, Dumbledore found out, his Mum, she was called Merope Gaunt." The name rang a bell somewhere. She must have been one of the last of her line — the Gaunts had died out decades ago, at least to most people's knowledge. That Voldemort was one of them... Surely more people knew that. It would explain how, even with Muggle blood, he convinced purebloods to his side. At one time, the Gaunts had been looked to as leaders of the Wizarding society, on the same level as the Blacks. "He's a descendant of Slytherin. We didn't get much farther than that, but — I figured you should know."

Her mind reeled. "How did you defeat him?" she found herself asking. "You never did say."

"Stabbed his diary with a basilisk fang." He said it so bluntly that Aurora had to laugh, the sound leaping out of her. "I did! He was possessing Ginny through the diary — like, he spoke to her and fed off her... It was weird. I reckon Dumbledore knows more that he hasn't told me yet."

"Obviously," she said, rolling her eyes, "isn't that what he usually does?" Harry glanced away, avoiding the question.

"He had this ring, too, the Gaunt family ring."

"Voldemort?"

He shook his head. "Dumbledore. It's how his hand ended up injured like that, I think." Almost definitely cursed — that was no surprise. What was curious was the question of why Dumbledore had sought it out in the first place. "Voldemort cursed it, I'm sure. Dumbledore seems to think knowing all this will make me understand Voldemort, and understand the prophecy, but, I don't know. It doesn't make much sense to me."

Aurora thought for a long moment, then admitted, "Me neither. Then again, Dumbledore is a bit mad, isn't he? He'll have his reasons, I'm sure. Whether they're decent reasons is another matter." Harry cracked a smile. "Have you another one of these lessons?"

"Not for a while, I don't think. He said he'll send me a note, but he's out of the castle again and doesn't know when he'll be back." Harry scowled. "I wish he'd tell me where he's going."

"Like I said — he doesn't like telling people things. Probably no one knows." She shook her head. "You'll tell me what else he says, right?"

"Course," Harry agreed, just slightly too quick for her to believe him, "and you — if you hear anything about what Malfoy's up to, you'll tell me?"

That gave Aurora pause. She turned to frown at him, folding her arms. "I don't know that he's up to anything. But if I do have cause to believe—"

"Find out," Harry implored, "no one else is able to hang about him like you are."

"You severely overestimate his and his friends' willingness to let me hang about them. They all know I'm not one of them. I've shown where my loyalties lie."

"Your mate Nott looked pretty pally with them," Harry pointed out, eyebrows raised, and a flush rose to Aurora's cheeks. She had been trying very hard not to think about Theo recently — and he made it very difficult. "He doesn't seem like the type to me — not by the way he was talking back in the summer."

"Well, Theodore has his own reasons."

"I bet he'd tell you what Malfoy's up to, if you asked."

"I wouldn't ask," she said in a cold voice, looking him in the eye, her heart suddenly seized by a quick-moving sense of dread. She got to her feet, thoughts of Theo rushing in like a wave through a broken dam. "We're not friends anymore either."

Harry gave her a skeptical look up and down. "Right. Sure."

"Is that all? About the chamber and Dumbledore and whatever else?"

He thought for a moment before nodding. "Yeah. I think so." He put a hand on her arm. "But Aurora, really — Malfoy—"

She shoved him off, stepping away. "I'll tell you if there's anything you need to know, Harry. I'm not stupid. But he's not just going to spill his guts out to me. They're all suspicious of me. If you'll excuse me, I have to announce my Quidditch team and try to avoid death by angry mob."

Harry broke out into a reluctant, unexpected laugh, staring at her as she went. "You can't just avoid me, you know!"

"I'm not! I'm trying not to avoid my captain's responsibilities! Have a good night!"

By the time she got back to the common room, the tension in the air was palpable. It seemed the entire house turned to stare at her when she went to pin the team sheet to the bulletin board, though everyone tried to pretend otherwise. "The Quidditch team list is up," she announced loudly, sighing impatiently at the end, "if you're disappointed, it's because you weren't good enough. Try again next year. Thank you!"

As soon as she stepped away, the board was mobbed; Aurora went as quickly as she could to the corner table with Leah and Gwen, watching the dawning realisation from afar. "Well?" Leah asked. "Found someone to beat Potter?"

"Not yet," she said lightly, "the position's unfilled; I've got three reserves instead. Hopefully, someone will step up."

"What the fuck?" she heard Brandon Harper shout from by the board.

"If you've a problem—"

"Yeah, I've got a problem!" He burst back through the crowd of people gathered around the board, striding over to her. Aurora drew her wand from her pocket, twirling it between her fingers with a pointed, warning look. He paused just a few paces behind Leah's armchair. "You've made me a reserve!"

"Indeed, I have. Consider it an honour, Harper — there are plenty of people who didn't even make that."

"You've no Seeker! How are you meant to win a game without a Seeker?"

He was very quickly reducing his chances of becoming Seeker — annoying, considering he was the best candidate. "None of you convinced me today," she told him evenly, holding his gaze, "and that's alright. These things take time, and there's been a lot of upheaval in the team. You'll have many chances to prove yourself, as will the other reserves. Unless of course, you'd rather not be on the team at all."

Harper's cheeks flushed. The common room had quieted around them, curious gazes turning to alight on the latest drama. Draco watched easily from his sofa, Pansy curled into his side. Her gaze darted anywhere but Aurora. "No," Harper bit out, "but I don't think it's fair you've made three reserves and no Seeker. Are you holding it for Malfoy or something?"

It took Aurora a moment to realise he was serious; and then she laughed, because that was even more absurd. "Of course not," she told him, voice like ice, "I have a strategy, Harper. You can work with me, or you can not."

Harper scoffed, and whirled around, his gaze fixating on Draco. "Did you know about this, Malfoy?"

Draco looked him up and down, wrinkling his nose. His gaze slipped to Aurora, chilling her, and then back again. "I've more important things to think about than Quidditch, Harper," he drawled. "And I've even less interest in playing when Slytherin has a blood traitor as captain."

The words sent ice through to her heart. Every eye turned back to Aurora; her peers reeled at the boldness of the words, sneered at the unveiling of her. She took in a deep breath and looked away, trying not to catch sight of Theo out the corner of her eye — he was still sat by Draco, between Blaise and Daphne, not saying anything, not even meeting her eye. Coward, she thought. He didn't owe her anything — but part of her hoped he might have the guts to stand up to Draco's prejudice, for something other than their mere friendship.

"Like I said," she reminded Harper coolly, turning away, "it's your choice whether you play under me or not, but I really think you should stop making a scene and let our fellow classmates get on with their evenings."

Harper scowled, but backed off. "Fine. But this is bullshit, Black."

"You're more than welcome to resign your spot," she reminded him, but he just grumbled and walked away, nursing his pride in the corner of the room.

No one else came to challenge her decision after that. Still, Aurora did not quite breathe easy until she finished her Charms homework and the crowd had fully dispersed, chatter turning away from Quidditch. "Are you really not going to have a Seeker?" Gwen asked eventually, breaking the silence.

"Yes. At least until they've proven themselves. All the reserves are decent fliers, but they need an extra push to be great Seekers. You don't think it's a terrible plan, do you?"

"Well." Gwen grimaced and glanced at Leah, who shrugged. "It doesn't seem great, but I get it. I mean, what if you do get stuck two days before the match and suddenly none of them are good and you don't know what to do?"

"Then I'll take it and one of them can be Chaser. The position's better covered for that way."

Leah gawked at her. "You can't be serious! They'll think you're just trying to get yourself the glory."

"If it wins us the cup, I don't care."

"And what if they turn on you?"

Aurora sighed. "It's not going to come to that. And if it does, I'll deal with it. I have to do what's best for the time and I have to make the best, informed decision that I can, and this is it." She bit her lip, doubt creeping in. "Or am I being completely stupid?"

"No," Leah assured her quickly, "you're not — like Gwen said, I get why. It just seems a bit... Like there are a lot of ways it could go wrong."

"Well, I'll have to hope I get lucky for once, then."