Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“What do you mean you can’t find her?”

“I mean I can’t bloody find her, Malfoy!”  His voice dripped with disdain.  “The ‘tent' you mentioned in your missive has turned out to be a tri-level, heavily fortified encampment.”  There was silence in Harry’s ear; he must not have known…

“How large?  Is it-”

“It’s beyond anything I’ve ever seen...  They have extension charms all over it and it’s absolutely packed.”  Harry was on the second level - he’d been casting for the past ten minutes as he continued his descent but still no sign of anyone.  “How do you know she’s even here?”

Again, silence.  

“Malfoy?” Harry whispered in a warning tone.

“There was an owl.  It came about half an hour before we called you.”  He sounded helpless.  Normally this would make Harry grin - they may have been friendlier now, after twenty years of burying the axe, but Potter would never tire of the posh ‘Master Malfoy ’ being brought down a peg or two.  

But this was not one of those circumstances in which he could fault Malfoy for having a heart.  

“I can apparate to the nearest checkpoint and-” Malfoy was breathless - no doubt considering every possible outcome if Harry could not find his daughter - or find her before the aurors were scheduled to arrive.  

“That will help no one - just stand by… I’m entering the lowest level now, I’ll find her.”  Harry waved his hand to disconnect the magically enhanced muggle device connecting him to Draco.  How handy these listening contraptions were, until, say his best friend and her husband called on him for his assistance.

‘Please Harry, she can’t go through that public thrashing.’

‘Potter, she’s still a child.  She needs protection…’

‘You’re the only one who understands.  The only one we can trust…'

Yeah, a fat lot of good it did him… The girl was a menace.  Most days he didn’t even go into the office - preferring to compile his reports from home.  It wasn’t until a certain curly-headed, platinum blonde decided to wreak havoc that he was summoned for his assistance.  And even then, it wasn’t in direct assistance of the DMLE, it was just him - rogue.  Doing whatever it took to keep the Malfoy heiress safe - even if it was from herself.  

Unfortunately for him however, he did understand. As much as it went against his nature to agree with Malfoy - Harry remembered a time when ‘rules’ had meant very little to him, a time when he too rushed into dangerous situations without a second thought.

He’d paid dearly for all of it…. Perhaps if he’d had his parents… or at the very least adults that actually cared for him and not old men willing to let him go on believing his life was nothing more than…

No.  He was beyond that now.  

He was here and he had a job to do.  None of that mattered.  Only now.  

Only Aurora.

Harry stowed the device away in his back pocket then removed his wand.  It was increasingly bothersome that he’d made it this deep into the encampment without encountering anyone… 

Never a good sign.  

Harry reached the bottom of the ramp and remained in a kneeling position, doing his best to ignore the pain in his knees that hadn’t been there ten years ago. He was surveying the area around him.  Every manner of creature and beast seemed to be caged or bound down here; being prepared to transport...  

This was far too large of an operation…  How had they remained off of the ministry’s radar? Who was behind this…? The sheer magnitude and quality with which the beasts were being detained took a considerable amount of effort and magic to keep hidden and quiet.  

And the beasts...  

The first level had housed many common creatures, a few obscure finds, but the moment he beheld the second and ground floors, he was truly taken aback.  How long had these people been at this?  There were creatures he didn’t recognize, powerful and dangerous.

There was an enchanted cave looming across the circular area, magically modified and - Harry couldn’t be sure, but it looked terrifyingly similar to a chimera’s den.  

A few feet away from the den was a pen enchanted to hold Gryphons, of which he was certain.  The territorial marks scratched into the rocks and trees lining the entrance of the pen were unmistakable.  It was possibly the largest poaching operation he’d seen since the raid they’d been able to infiltrate a few years back at Blakeney.

A few stalls lined the rest of the area, a few hippogriffs and thestrals stuck their heads over the gates. Pressed against the stalls were several caged, bird-like creatures, each one content and silent in its captivity and a few stacked wooden crates..  

Aurora was here, somewhere.  Poachers were here, somewhere… 

This was incredibly dangerous - Harry didn’t need to know the exact number of people within this place to understand how dangerous this situation was.  The magic alone, keeping this place pristine and peaceful, was beyond his singular capacity.  He should wait for backup… If Ron were here, he would have recommended waiting.

He was weighing his options when a pair of strange eyes filled his mind, one green, one brown, and the seasoned auror who had been able to harness the art of remaining level headed in the fray began to slip away.  He was replaced by the boy who’d fought dark lords, massive bloody snakes and possessed jewelry.  That boy couldn’t wait for help to arrive - not if she might be in trouble, or worse. 

Harry skirted around the railing, annoyed with the tension in his legs. He knelt behind a stack of crates contemplating what was out of place.  

The size of the structure had allowed the poachers to cast multiple sets of wards over the hoard of items stored here  - his revelio’s weren’t working unless he was close enough to the objects in question..  It was maddening - his magic had grown significantly in the past thirty years, but being down here reminded him of those days when he was still so limited.    

Where was everyone?

“Revelio,” he whispered into the cool air.  His spell filled the room, branching out to reveal what exactly was around him.  The blue glow, indicating creatures, was almost overwhelming.  Red auras, representing threats, appeared in the cave - it was definitely a chimera, and there was definitely more than one. 

There were a few golden hues lighting up the crates and cages to show important items being stored but then his spell settled on a small cage nestled to the side of the gryphon pen.  The light emanating was a pale white and surrounded by tiny blue lights.  

Aurora. 

Harry moved slowly along the edge of the perimeter - not wanting to walk into the open center of the room.  He maintained a wide berth the closer he came to the cave holding the chimeras.  It appeared to be sufficiently sealed, so at least he wouldn’t have to call on his very limited knowledge of the beast were it to emerge from its den.

The cage containing the white glow was just large enough to hold a few mooncalves.  “ Finite ,” Harry whispered and the previously empty cage suddenly displayed the one he’d been searching for.  

She was breathing, she looked to be unharmed.  She looked to be alright.  

Harry waited a moment for her eyes to open, it didn’t register how intensely he’d been waiting to see them.  He was silent as he moved closer, testing for any wards or jinxes lying in wait.   

“Aurora,” he whispered, his irritation and anger taking a momentary reprieve as the wide - almond shaped eyes he’d been holding his breath for finally peered up at him.   

One pale green, one soft brown.   

Harry couldn’t help but notice her complete lack of enthusiasm or relief at seeing him… In fact it was quite the opposite. 

“You’re not supposed to be here,” her voice was raspy - as if she’d been screaming for help with no luck.  But this was most certainly not the case.  Harry heaved a heavy sigh and leaned back on his heels.  

Of bloody course…

“What are you mixed up with this time?”  Harry’s irritation returned as he leant over and began loosening the binds on her arms and legs.  

“Why do you automatically assume…” she whispered as she began removing the ropes he’d loosened..

“I assume nothing ,” Harry hissed.  “I know .  I know you… ”  He paused, swallowing the lump in his throat as her defiant, multicolored eyes glared back at him.  

Aurora shifted in the cage, moving her hand to the small burlap sack beside her.  Harry noticed the slight lean towards it and lifted his knowing gaze back to hers.  “Please tell me you’re not trying to steal from whoever is running this…”  His voice was an urgent whisper, he knew the answer before the line of her jaw tensed.  

It wasn’t often she looked like either one of her parents, Aurora had qualities similar to both of them but he rarely saw them in her features.  It was the defiance in her eyes, the firm set of her lips and the wildness of her curls… He couldn’t help but see a young Hermione Granger, unafraid and unwilling to compromise.  

“What’s in the bag,” he whispered - dread creeping along his spine.  They were running out of time…  It was fortuitous luck they’d been left alone thus far, but Harry knew it couldn’t last much longer. 

Aurora shifted again, this time pulling the bag into her lap.  

“Look, I really don’t care what’s in the bag.  I just need to know if they are going to come after us if you try to take it, or if it’s forgettable.”  Harry felt ridiculous for asking - she was a professional thief.  She had no qualms with putting herself in harm's way to acquire something truly precious.   

She’d been locked up and caged -she was so like the creatures that surrounded them that it startled Harry. Very clearly, she was willing to risk her own safety for whatever it was in the bag - his anger began to flare to life.  

“Dammit Aurora,” he breathed, but before he could adequately push for more information, the air shifted around them.  Harry tensed at the same moment Aurora’s eyes widened.  

“I do hope we aren’t interrupting,” a female voice crowed as she took in the scene before her.  “But you’re not supposed to be here,” her voice was heavy and smooth.  She had an accent Harry couldn’t place.  

‘Wand,’ Harry mouthed at Aurora.  She shook her head slightly.

Aurora grimaced as she felt the tension reappear in Harry’s grip on her shoulder.  

Nott. 

Freddy Fucking Nott.  

That stupid, bloody, annoying boy.  She was going to skin him alive, she absolutely was.  

Harry wasn’t supposed to be here.  No one was supposed to know where she was until at least two days from now.  

Aurora looked down to the bag still nestled in her lap.  She absolutely wasn’t going to be leaving without them.  

Harry watched her - those emerald green eyes missing nothing.  Damn , they were so alive and seemingly all knowing.  How did he always fucking know?

‘Stay ,’ he mouthed then pushed himself up to turn and face them. 

“What is your quarrel with the girl?”  Harry spoke, his voice taking on that authoritative tone that did strange things to the skin at the nape of her neck.  She always felt like an errant child when she heard that tone - but the more and more he came after her, the more and more that tone seemed to invoke other feelings.  

“No quarrel, not anymore,” she spoke calmly.  “We stopped her trying to take something that did not belong to her.  Now she comes back with us.”  

The air was ripe with tension, and Aurora was helpless.  She didn’t have a wand, and her wandless magic was… well, it was problematic, at best.  The little creatures on her lap wouldn’t last very long without her warmth, and she’d come this far for them… 

Harry moved to the center of the room, slowly more and more men began to fill the space behind the woman still standing at the forefront.  

He wasn’t supposed to be here, this hadn’t been the plan.  She knew he would come for her, he always came for her, but...  Fucking Nott.

The pounding in her chest resumed its fast pace.  It had begun the moment she opened her eyes to see him, standing over her - so calm and safe.  

Harry was always safe.  

But watching him as he moved into a dueling position, she thought she might be sick.  She had no way to help him, no way to protect him.  

He’d come for her - just like he always had and if… If something happened to him, it would be entirely her fucking fault. 

“I don’t think that’s going to work,” Harry said smoothly.  There was a rush of energy and adrenaline flowing through his body.  His fingers began to itch and the air around him grew electric.  

Pushing everything to the back of his mind, he focused on the people in front of him; on this moment.  Nothing else mattered .

The image of her eyes, one pale green, the color of a hazy morning mist and one soft brown, the color of caramel and chocolate melted together filled his mind, distracting him.  She was much too close - he needed to protect her, to get her out - but they would only follow, especially if what she was stealing was worth this much trouble… 

No, he’d have to neutralize the imminent threat before getting her out - if he could just render them unconscious or incapable of chasing after her, he could take her and run.  Once he pushed through this, the MLE would be able to handle what was left of them. 

Harry dismissed her beguiling eyes from his mind.

Nothing mattered - but the problem before him.

“And I suppose you think you alone can stop us?”  The incredulous smile on her face was enough to cement Harry’s resolve.  

“Actually, I do.”  

Harry quickly threw a series of spells into the center of the room - there was no true ceiling so there was no limit to how far he could cast.  He threw a lighting curse followed closely by an obsidian jinx.  He cast them in quick succession, one right after another, until the tent was covered in darkness and a lightning storm swirled around them.  

He could hear them, clamoring about as he rushed to the farthest side of the tent, closest to the gryphon’s paddock.  The men were throwing spells left and right - casting blindly as the inky darkness had done exactly what Harry had needed it to.  

He threw a quick protego around Aurora then began making his way through the storm, petrifying whoever crossed his path.  There was no uniformity amidst the black cloud and violent blasts of lightning.  

He was pushing through the chaos, a wraith within his conjured night, and it was exciting .  There wasn’t room to think - just react. A few of them seemed to know how to dispel his lights-out jinx, but they only had a moment to relish within their cleverness before Harry was descending on them with a flurry of hexes he’d not been able to cast in some time.

The anxiety that had been filling the pit of his stomach was very quickly replaced by a gleeful rush of anticipation. It was the familiarity of the fight, the itching in his fingers...  

The boy who lived somewhere deep inside him was being let out for a few brief moments, it was he who relished in the dangerous dance that was dueling.  He was twisting and casting, using the momentum of each encounter to push him into the next.  

Slowly the dark cloud began to disperse around them as the lightning faded.  Covering the ground along the edges of the tent were petrified bodies, maybe a dozen or so.

“What have you done?! ”  One of the burly men standing next to the woman snarled.  They’d underestimated him.  Aurora gasped as she too took in the bodies lying petrified on the ground.  The storm had only been swirling for a few moments - she’d never seen anything like it.  

Harry’s protego had enveloped her and she’d seen - she’d seen his blasts of dark purple and blue as he petrified everyone he could.  Where there had been twenty or so men before, now there stood only a handful. 

“The girl comes with me,” his voice was dark.  Aurora had never heard him like this.  It should have scared her - the tenor his voice took, but instead it called to something primitive within her; her skin tingled.

The dark-skinned witch, who’d clearly been the one in charge, looked to be on the verge of combusting.  Anger was rolling off of her in waves.  The two men flanking her never lowered their wands from Harry’s chest, but they hesitated, waiting for her command.  

This man, this wizard, who’d stolen into their camp was clearly not to be trifled with.  Aurora smirked at the level of fear evident in their faces. 

Harry recognized the burn deep within, an energy that he’d connected with long ago that immediately sprang up and was ready.  Only a handful left.  

The eerie silence lasted for only a moment.  The sound of a wand whispering through the air caught Harry’s attention, but instead of turning toward the noise his focus remained on the woman and her two men.  

“Protego,” Harry called, right before throwing a “confringo” at the boy’s chest, never breaking his focus away from the real threat ahead of him.  

A chill crept along Harry’s spine - delicate and small.  To your left. 

Harry broke his focus away from the leading witch, he hated to, but something was coming .  He turned in time to reflect the bombarda hurled his way.  It expertly bounced off his shield and hit the caster square in the chest.  The boy was being thrown back, but Harry caught him with an arresto momentum and threw his body into one of the two men still waiting for their leader’s orders.   

Her high pitched scream filled the tent and she began screeching at the last man standing beside her.  It wasn’t English… It wasn’t even European, Aurora was certain.  “Chekulewi, CHEKULEWI ,” her velvety voice shouted prompting the last man standing to move.

Aurora couldn’t help but notice he was wearing a top hat.  A bloody top hat that looked more like something a muggle magician might wear.  Harry seemed to focus on him and Aurora glared at the burly man, hoping Harry decimated him.  He deserved what he got - wearing that stupid fucking hat. 

They were dueling - each throwing hex after hex; neither seeming to be able to gain the upper hand.  Aurora’s stomach filled with dread as she could do nothing but watch.  

But as Harry and the man in the top hat fought, she noticed a bright green glow emanating from beyond their duel.  It was brighter than an Avada, but still it was this strange green glow that couldn’t bode well.  

Aurora pushed against the protego still encompassing her and noticed it had waned slightly.  Harry was running out of energy.  She looked back at his fighting form, they were now throwing punches and he would be too exhausted to withstand whatever the bitch across from them was doing.  

She didn’t have her wand and her wandless magic was… unstable .  

The burly wizard threw an uppercut sending Harry back a few feet and whatever the witch was working on, she could feel the heat beginning to fill the air.

Fuck it.

She centered her energy and focused her feelings.  There was a burning deep within her core, it was always there - always pushing to get out.  She’d done a good job containing it, but she needed it.  Now . 

Breathe - breathe - just like you practiced.  

Aurora lifted her hands to press into the shield around her, focusing on the burn, on the ache… She could feel Harry in the protego still surrounding her - so warm and safe.  

Always safe.   

Her magic sizzled through her limbs and vibrated through her veins.  She pulled, pulled on the reins - focus, focus, focus!

The energy vibrated through her arms and pooled into the palms of her hands.  

“Finite ,” she whispered, sending a magnificent burst of energy through her arms and shooting out to break the shield around her. 

Aurora looked up and quickly realized she no longer felt Harry’s protective charms.  

It worked!  

She lunged forward, grabbing one of the paralyzed poachers’ wands and quickly transfigured the bag into a knapsack and slung the strap across her chest.  

They were going to get out!

The excitement within her was palpable, until she looked around.  Her finite had blasted out the entire section of the tent she’d been sitting in.  Crates, cages, stall doors, everything was blown apart - their carefully crafted magical seals torn to shreds in the process.  She looked up in terror, Harry lay across the yard, face down and covered in shards of wood and ash.

Problematic… Unstable… Destructive.

Harry opened his eyes.

The air was heavy.  Something felt off.  

There was an over abundance of noise.  Chittering and yelps from different beasts.  

Harry turned his face to see the lifeless gaze of a man in a top hat.  He pushed himself up - he was having trouble breathing.  He looked up to behold a swirling pillar of green flames.  

Fiendfyre?

The flames were slowly moving, in a sort of lazy dance; graceful and somewhat serene.  Not like Fiendfyre that just consumed and destroyed in a kinetic energy, burning everything it was near.  

This was different.  Harry had never seen anything like it.

“Fuck, are you ok?” Aurora was suddenly beside him, and Harry was still confused.  The ringing in his ears was gone, but there was still a fog.  He turned to look at her.  She was so tall - he stared straight into her eyes… 

One pale green, one soft brown…

“Rory, ” he whispered, lifting his hand to her face, running his thumb beneath her nose.  

She was bleeding.  

“Harry!” Aurora hollered, pulling Harry’s focus back from wherever it had drifted to.  The haze disappeared from his eyes and he was alert.  He turned to take in the destruction around them. 

He glanced down to see the man in the top hat, his neck bent at an odd angle and further back against a pile of broken crates lay the dark-skinned witch who’d been conjuring the flames, a metal pipe protruding from her chest.  

The heat bellowing above them was growing stronger despite the fact the one casting had been neutralized.  The fire was growing stronger.    

Aurora was next to him - not in the cage.  He’d left her in the cage with a protective shield.   

Harry heard a soft growling and finally pieced together what had happened.  

“Time to go,” he murmured, reaching for Aurora’s hand.  She immediately leaned away from him and Harry let out an exasperated sigh.  

“Don’t, please.  We need to leave.  I don’t understand this magic...”  He glanced at the storm of flames continuing to ravish the tent around them.  

Aurora looked around at the mess she’d made, at the destruction she’d caused.  At the people she’d… 

The people she’d killed.   She couldn’t look away.  There wasn’t time for this, but her eyes - the dark-skinned witch… She was very pretty and elegant, obviously quite powerful… Her eyes were still open, staring blankly up at the flames she’d conjured, still burning and alive.

But not her.   

She was dead, because of Aurora and her unstable, destructive magic.  

Harry noticed the direction of her gaze.  “Aurora,” he said softly.

“No!” She shoved him, her tone impatient.  “I did this… I-” Harry thought she was going to fall apart - he felt her body trembling against his.  He needed to get her out of here.  He pulled on her again and she shoved him harder this time.  “No!  We have to save them!” 

Harry was caught in her hazy eyes - one pale green, one soft brown.  She was not going to back down…  

The fire was getting closer, but she wasn’t going to budge.  

“Damnit, Aurora, I don’t understand this magic!”  He was yelling at her.  He hadn’t meant to, but the hissing of the flames licking up the fabric of the tent was slowly but surely consuming everything.  He could hear the faint but violent screams coming from the beasts still caught on the first level.   

There were too many, and this was beyond his ability.  He gently pulled and her body moved slightly, but then stopped again.  There were tears streaming over her cheeks while her eyes flashed widely from the fire to the cages and stalls.  

If we can stop the fire we can save them, she thought. 

Aurora felt Harry’s arm slide up hers further, warm and safe .  She could fix this, he would help her fix it.  They could-

Her thoughts were snuffed out as suddenly the world fell away from around them and the sickening pull behind her belly button yanked her to wherever Harry was aparating them. 

No! No.. No!!! No no no no no no!

His hands fell away instantly and he began slowly backing up as a crazed look filled Aurora’s eyes.  She spun around several times - trying to acclimate to the sudden change.  They’d gone from a tent, enclosed with every manner of magical beast, moments away from emerging from their cages to the sprawling cliffs at the edge of Dover.

“What the fuck did you do?”  Aurora clutched the knapsack closer to her hip, and whirled around trying to take in her surroundings.  The tent, the fire, the bodies… the beasts …  They were all gone. “Damnit Harry!” 

“I can’t- You… You just left them all there!  All of those animals!  They’re… They’re going to burn now, because of you!”  

“Because of me?”  Harry retorted, but his question didn’t seem to register.

Aurora rammed her finger into his chest and stared straight into his dark green eyes.  “Take me back,” she demanded.  “I can fix this,  I know I can, I just need-”  She still had the poacher’s wand, she could just go back…

“Are you mad?” Harry was looking at her, dumbfounded.  What she was saying - it was nonsense, it was desperate.  He watched the pain in her eyes, the tear stains on her cheeks and knew where it was coming from.  

Guilt .  

He knew it well.

“You just left them there!  To die!”  She slammed her strong fists into his chest, the fury behind them growing the longer he stood there, unmoving.  But she needed him - she wasn’t sure where the camp was now.  She’d been locked in that cage and they’d relocated after her infiltration.

“You’re being irrational, the aurors were already-”  Harry was speaking in a calm voice but Aurora hadn’t heard anything beyond that word 

“Irrational?  Irrational! ?”  She wasn’t being irrational!  She had to fix this.  She stopped beating her fists against him, but left her hands on his chest as the destructive force of her anger continued to swell.  Who the bloody hell did he think he was?  “That’s rich, coming from you, Harry Potter …” 

“Now hang on just a minute-”

“You shouldn’t have even been there in the first place !”  She hissed, tightening her grip around the collar of his robes.  “ You were the one to just rush in there without a clue as to what was happening, without knowing, at all, what was going on.  Months of planning, months of strategy.  Gone… ”  her voice was acidic.  

Harry lifted his hands to wrap around her small wrists.  Her pulse raced beneath his grip and Harry couldn’t help but recognize the violence within her reaction.  It was him - thirty years ago when someone tried to stop him from doing what he knew was right.  “I went in there for you , Aurora,” he gritted through his teeth.

Aurora’s face twisted into a snide smirk and chose to ignore the pain in his voice as he said her name.  “I didn’t need your help, I had everything perfectly under control when-”. 

“No, you didn’t.”  Harry squeezed her wrists tighter as she tried to pull away. “You had nothing under control!”  His patience was running thin.  She was being selfish and careless and she could have died!  Why didn’t she understand that?  

People had died… Because she stuck her nose where it didn’t belong.  She was a danger to herself.  Why was no one else doing what it took to stop her?  Why did no one else see it?  Why was it always just him?

The crazed look in his eyes pulled to the part of her that knew he’d always be there - the part of her that had come to rely on the blessed assurance that was Harry Potter.  He was angry - he was so angry, but she wanted to be closer…

“You have no idea what your-” 

“Enough!”  Harry shouted.  His cheeks were a brilliant shade of red and she realized the wind whistling around them was coming from him; Harry was stirring the atmosphere with his anger causing the hair to clear from his face.  She could see his scar.  “That is quite enough,” he said softer.  

Aurora was silent, her heart pounding in her chest.  She was angry with him - but the feeling rushing through her body at being this close to him - it wasn’t anger…

“How many more people need to get hurt because you refuse to just stop ?”  His grip was iron clad around her wrists, hoping she could feel the desperation in his voice.  

“I… I can’t stop,” she snarled, trying to jerk away from him.  But Harry was having none of it. 

“Tell me why,” his voice was firm.

Why?  Tell him why?

Aurora scoffed, shoving against him again, but Harry was much stronger.  

She needed to get away from here.  He was too close and she was… she was moments away from falling apart and she couldn’t let him see.  She hadn’t meant for anyone to die… She hadn’t meant for Harry to be so exposed like that…

She was just trying to do what she could to keep it under control - to pacify the magic within her that ached to be released.  It was only when she was on a mission - caught in something dark and dangerous that it seemed to be appeased.  

Well, during missions and… and when he came for her…

He always came for her.

“God damnit, Aurora!  Would you just bloody stop?!”

“No!” She yelled - imploring the gods to help her get away.  He was poking around in things he had no business in and she couldn’t breathe.  She couldn’t let him see her stupidity - her immaturity .  

Did he really think she was so oblivious: that she didn’t know what this was?  But she couldn’t stop - it wasn’t an option…

“What is wrong with you?”  He asked, his voice only slightly softer, but the concern was evident in the way his thumb slid gently over the sensitive skin of her wrist..  

Looking back on that moment, she knew it was rhetorical.  He hadn’t actually been asking her what was wrong with her… but the smell of worn leather and cedarwood was overpowering.  She tried again to pull away.

“Just let me go,” he was so warm; so safe.  She tried again to yank her arms free of his grasp, but still he held on. 

“No, tell me ,”  His voice was low and authoritative.  She felt a fresh wave of tears threatening to spill over the rims of her eyes.  His tone conveyed something more than just his normal disappointment in her.  It pulled at something in her heart that she’d been ignoring for a while now.  

Aurora needed to run.

Fast . 

But he wasn’t letting her go, even though she shoved him over and over again.  He was immovable and unwilling to give her the space she needed. 

“ Fuck this ,” she whispered before she reversed the force of her body and pushed herself into his hard chest.  Aurora twisted one arm around his neck and pushed her lips into his, taking full advantage of the shock to his senses.  

She hadn’t anticipated the warmth of his lips or the heady smell of fire on his skin.  She’d smelled him before, yes.  But this… this was different. 

Aurora tilted her head slightly, slotting her mouth against his and slipping her hand quickly into his messy hair - still full of debris from the battle.  She’d only been trying to distract him long enough to run, but… 

Fuck, he felt good…

The moment her lips touched his, Harry’s hands released her wrists, but then there was something warm on her hips.  Something had settled there and what had begun as a ploy to get away was now backfiring against her.   

Aurora removed her hand from his hair and rested it on his neck then pulled her face an inch or so away from his; just far enough to still hold his attention, but to no longer be touching.  She slid her free hand into her back pocket and gripped the wand inside.

“ You are what’s wrong with me, Harry Potter…”  His eyes were so clear, she’d never been able to see them this close before.  They were beautiful ;  emerald green with flecks of gold and hazy browns in them. She slid her nose down the length of his and gently pressed her lips to his once more before taking a step back and apparating away. 

Chapter Text

“Pass me one of those, will you,” Harry murmured to his nephew.  

Edward grabbed a flute of champagne as the tray floated past and handed it over to his uncle.  

“You alright, fam?”  A look of concern played across the young wizard's face and Harry replied with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.  Eddie seemed to be a bit more preoccupied with a few girls waltzing into the ballroom so Harry’s response was deemed sufficient. 

Harry lingered in the back of the magically decorated room.  Mostly everyone seemed to be gathered toward the center, either dancing or socializing.  

Harry was not prepared to do either, so he hid, next to Dean and Daphne’s oldest, listening to him recount his recent tryouts for the muggle football leagues.  

Harry had tried to avoid this; being here.  It had been a few weeks since… since the incident, and he was still-

Harry was still very confused. Nothing made any sense.  She’d clearly only done that to get away from him.  There was certainly no other reason for it… Right?  

It was just Aurora being Aurora - making the rules up as she went, disregarding everything else that wasn’t in service to her own agenda.  That’s all that was.

That kiss… 

But even knowing it had all been a ploy to her - it hadn’t stopped him from thinking about it every day and dreaming about her every night.  

Merlin and Morgana.  Harry sighed, downing the rest of his drink before quickly grabbing another as it floated past.  He didn’t want to be here.  He couldn’t deal with this evening, surrounded by everyone. 

Jasper Nott had been signed by the Falmouth Falcons and between his quidditch star mother and his quidditch obsessed uncle, this was set to be a momentous occasion for close friends and family.  

Close friends and family…  Harry rolled his eyes wishing the drink in his hands was much stronger. 

Harry hadn’t been to Nott Manor since Theo and Ginny’s wedding. That day had been rather drab, if he recalled correctly - most of their weddings had.  Harry took in the warm coloring and over abundance of light; it didn’t even appear to be the same house in all honesty.   

The ballroom, specifically, had been enchanted to appear like a miniature stadium.  The entire front wall was set up like stands and decorated with the Falcon’s colors.  The center of the room appeared as a quidditch pitch, and the back doors were opened to the night sky.  Lights, sheer tents and hoops had been erected to encourage the guests outside for more entertainment and to allow the younger ones a chance to fly if they so desired.  

The August air was cool and comfortable and the evening was, for the most part, quite lovely.  

There would always be a part of Harry that relished these types of moments.  Moments in which things had turned out alright after the war. Immediately following Riddle’s demise, everything had seemed so disconnected and broken.  

Then the ministry implemented the marriage laws...  

Everyone had fought against it.  But the ministry had paired them all off rather well.   Whatever magic they’d used to align the cores of the single witches and wizards that survived the war - it had resulted in happy unions, rebuilt blood lines and a boom in the wizarding population.  

Harry had been with Ginny back then. She’d fought against her assigned partner - thinking herself in love with Harry instead.

They’d thought that the trauma and heartbreak following, what had felt like the end of all things, would only solidify their love for one another.  But when Harry looked at her now, over twenty years later, he saw what they’d been too stubborn to see back then.

The Notts were in serious conversation about something with their eldest, Freddy, but Harry’s heart warmed at the way Theo’s hand never left his wife’s side.  A soft smile played upon Harry’s lips as he watched the united force that was Ginny and Theo.  

Harry surveyed the party again, noticing Ron and Luna’s girls chasing the Zabini twins on brooms, the air full of laughter and peace.  

He searched for his own daughter, finally finding her in one of the stands with Eddie’s little sister Emily and Poppy Longbottom; their noses deep in a book.  Harry smiled wistfully at the trio - still unsure as to how he, Dean and Neville had managed to father Ravenclaws ...  

“Oh, Kyran’s here!  I’ll catch up with you later Uncle Harry…” Edward smiled before racing off to see his friend.  

Harry grinned, lifting his drink back to his lips.  

“He reminds me so much of Dean at that age,” Hermione appeared beside him, causing him to inhale the last of his drink. 

“Blimey, Hermione!”  Harry choked out, trying to clear his throat.  “Where did you come from?” 

She threw her head back and laughed at his expense.  Harry righted himself and glared at her as she settled herself against his arm, smiling up at him.

Harry struggled to return the easy smile she offered.  Hermione was still this little thing with big hair and large eyes.  Time had sprinkled grey into her chestnut curls and a few delicate lines now accented the edges of her eyes and mouth, but she was still Hermione Granger.  

And Hermione Granger was dangerously perceptive. 

She was speaking to him, her voice light with a smile, brightening the back of the hall.  Harry looked considerably uncomfortable for a moment, but soon it wore off the more her mother continued to speak.  

Aurora felt a small stab of jealousy watching her mother’s easy friendship with him.  

It was stupid really.  It was just one kiss - and it had been to distract him.  Nothing more.  Just a means to an end.  

But to  whose end … she was still trying to figure that out. 

Bloody fucking genius she was.

She’d been unable to think of anything else since.  The length of his body, the hard plane of his chest… Her mouth began to water, and she recalled back to her memory that day.  

It had been happening for weeks now - little things she hadn’t processed at the time were flooding her mind at random moments.  The way his thick, dark hair whipped in the wind on that cliff.  The glint in his eyes beneath the green flames.  

The burn of his hand on her hips.  The faint taste of sadness in his lips right before she’d apparated away.  

Yes, kissing him had been reckless - which was somewhat of a specialty for her… But she’d not thought this through.  Aurora was many things, but she wasn’t entirely thoughtless.  She wouldn’t knowingly put someone else in harm’s way.  She wouldn’t purposefully do something to bring harm to someone else… Her thoughts drifted to the unfortunate outcome of those poachers and… and Harry fighting off so many of them - all for her.

No, if she put herself on the line - that was fine.  But she didn’t play with other people like that, at least she tried not to. 

Especially not Harry.  

He was over there, smiling with her mother.  Ron was strolling toward them and Harry’s face seemed to relax even further the closer he came. 

Aurora was beneath the arch leading into the enchanted ballroom, nursing a glamoured champagne flute - it was really a glass of whiskey from Nott’s private store which she didn’t feel the least bit sorry about stealing.  

She was irritated, but couldn’t quite put her finger on why. She’d just been salivating over Harry and now…

“Hello darling,” came the silky voice of one Prudence Weasley.  

Aurora immediately turned to her dearest and oldest friend and quickly wrapped her arms around her.  

“What the hell are you doing here?”  

“What?  Did you really think dad would let me miss Jasper's celebration?”  Aurora laughed before pulling her in for another hug. 

Aurora leaned back after a moment and smiled at the curvaceous ginger standing before her.  Everything about her was elegant and poised.  She was in a grey and black polka dotted, cocktail dress with red heels.  Her strawberry blonde curls were piled atop her head and Aurora marveled at how feminine and pristine she looked. 

“Merlin save me,” Aurora bit her lip as she brought her gaze back up to Pru’s perfect face.  “No one would ever believe you’ve been camping in the Arctic for the past year, love.”  Pru giggled as she leaned into Aurora’s shoulder, pressing kisses against her cheeks.  

Aurora felt the stress leave her body just being near her.  

“Me?  What about you, darling?”  Aurora’s cheeks turned a slight shade of pink as her friend’s gaze slid over her tall figure. She’d worn a simple black dress to accentuate her long frame.  Aurora didn’t have the curves or the grace Pru did; she knew that.  But as a cheeky grin spread across Pru’s face, Aurora snorted out a laugh, bringing her hand to her lips and turning away..  

“Stop ,” she breathed.  

“You look delicious , darling,” Prudence said firmly clinking her glass against Aurora’s. “Who on Earth are you trying to seduce?”  

Aurora’s eyes widened as the smirk on Pru’s face intensified 

The two girls continued talking, huddled close together, as if no time had passed between them at all.  

Hermione followed Harry’s vacant gaze and nodded to Ron.  He turned as well, his heart expanding as he realized what had caught their attention.  

“Can you believe they were the first two of The Boom?”  There was a note of pride in her voice that Harry wasn’t quite ready to share.  

There was still much he was not ready to forgive Aurora for.  Nearly getting him killed, nearly leaving Jaymes an orphan, taking absolutely no responsibility for anything.  Her recklessness and carelessness…

And … and other things…

Harry cleared his throat and shifted uncomfortably against Hermione.  

“I’m still struggling to come to terms with how grown up they are,” Ron turned back to face his oldest friends, a stab of longing pooling in the pit of his stomach.  As much as he was enjoying the slower pace of life now that his youngests were already third years at Hogwarts, he and Luna did sometimes miss the chaos of their seven children under one roof.

They had all grown up so fast.  

“Oh I know!  When did Prudence get back?”  Hermione leaned forward, eager to learn of the excavation she’d been on for the past year.  “It was the Arctic circle right?  Gods, can you imagine?”  She beamed at Harry, eyes alight with the ever curious desire that was entirely her. 

“Yeah, I think she flew in a few hours ago.  Luna insisted she stay home to rest, but you know Pru,” Ron beamed, proud of his daughter’s devotion to family.  

Family.

Harry glanced toward the stands.  Jaymes was still there with Emily and Poppy, leaning over their books and speaking animatedly about whatever topic they’d been researching.  Guilt and a bit of sorrow clenched his heart.

He had wanted to give his daughter everything he never had.  A big family, lots of siblings, happy memories and laughter.  Astoria had wanted that too, but…

Ron noticed the shift in Harry’s focus and met Hermione’s gaze before tilting his head toward the stands.  

“Harry?”  Hermione said softly, pulling his focus back to their little group, away from things he couldn’t change.  

Harry offered a smile that didn’t quite meet his eyes.

“What is it, mate,” Ron gently prodded.  Harry knew that Ron and Hermione would both know what he was thinking, what he was trying not to worry over.  He’d voiced his concerns and fears many times over the years and he didn’t want to rehash it all again; not on a night like tonight, when the atmosphere was full of excitement and joy.  

Harry looked into Hermione’s brown, almond shaped, eyes; trying not to think of another set of similarly shaped, multi colored eyes. 

He looked away.

“I just wish we’d had more time…”  Harry sighed.

Hermione’s heart ached.  She, too, had thought things would have gone differently - they all did.  

“Harry - I’m so sorry,” she leaned into him again, hugging his arm closer to her chest, winding her fingers through his.  If there was anything she understood it was the pain of being helpless.  

It had been so obvious to anyone with a brain how much Astoria and Harry loved each other.  They’d been paired remarkably well.  Hermione felt her heart sink thinking of all Harry had sacrificed, everything he had lost, everything he’d had ripped from his fingers.  

There was no one, on this Earth, who deserved happiness more than Harry Potter.  

Harry wasn’t trying to wallow in his melancholy. It was just difficult not to when everywhere he looked he saw completion and belonging. It’s why he avoided dinner parties and reunions and special invitations.

He’d been a widow for seventeen years now; it wasn’t something he was new to.  He’d learned to cope with things a long time ago.  But it never became easier to be surrounded by everything they were supposed to have.  

Astoria had been … Harry sighed.  

She had been the snitch.  

She had been the horcrux.

She had been the bloody Sword of Gryffindor.  

Astoria had been elusive and mysterious.  A true Slytherin. She was beautiful and smart and ethereal.  But she’d also been kind and patient.  She’d been like a cool breeze in a sweltering, unforgiving desert. 

She’d been his peace.  She’d been his security.  She’d been a precious piece of his soul.

For a long time, she’d been everything.

Harry looked back to the girl sitting in the stands; the girl with her father’s messy hair and her mother’s eyes…

Jaymes was the center of everything, now.  

“I just don’t know what I’ll do when she graduates,” he said wistfully, a lump forming in his chest as he watched his wife’s smile appear on his daughter’s lips.  He watched the way it started slowly on the left side and spread to cover her whole face.  If he were closer he’d be able to see Astoria’s dimple on their daughter’s other cheek, subtle - but there.

“You won’t be alone, Harry,” Hermione said gently.  

“You won’t ever be alone, you know that, right?”  Ron reiterated.  Harry was lucky to still have them… but they were wrong. 

Alone, Harry thought. You could be surrounded by people and still always be alone.

So much of everything he’d done, thus far, in his life had been for the benefit of those around him; those that relied on him.  What would he do now?

“Aurora, good Godric!  Look at you!”   Ron’s surprised tone drew Harry’s attention and he turned in time to see Prudence and Aurora strolling towards them.  Ron immediately pulled Aurora into a bear hug, grumbling at how tall and how beautiful she’d become.  

Harry remained completely calm, Hermione was still leaning against his arm, but his blood began to boil the minute Aurora walked into Ron’s embrace.  

Her brilliantly large eyes connected with his over Ron’s shoulder and Harry felt his jaw tense in response. He would have been fine had she remained on the other side of the ballroom, with her friends.

Harry had no desire to really be near her - she’d yet to apologize for her behavior, for her recklessness, for her… 

Aurora slipped her pink tongue through her lips and ran it along the bottom one - the one that was slightly thinner than the top.

Suddenly his mouth was dry.  

“Prudence, darling,” Hermione beamed, dropping Harry’s hand and moving to embrace her.  Pru leaned forward to wrap her arms around Hermione then released her and turned to Harry.

“Hey, kiddo,” Harry cleared his throat, forcing a smile onto his face as his goddaughter flew into his embrace.  

“Uncle Harry!” She smiled, her violet eyes shining brightly; her arms wrapping around his abdomen.  She rested her head on his chest and Harry couldn’t help the love swelling within his heart for Ron and Luna’s eldest daughter.  

Aurora forced down the bite of jealousy threatening to choke her as Harry so easily wrapped Pru in his arms.  No hesitation, no trepidation, nothing.  

He never smiled at her like that, he never held her with so great a tenderness that it felt almost nauseating.

Well, Pru has never almost gotten him killed… Aurora ignored the tiny voice in the back of her mind that sounded irritatingly similar to her mother’s pragmatic tone.  She’s also never kissed him, either…

Aurora shook her head, trying to clear away the nonsense clouding her brain.  She wasn’t jealous… 

But still - there was something about the simple way Harry was able to hold and touch and exist with Pru and Hermione and the stupid, fucking, wench he’d been seeing for all of a week last year…

Fucking hell… Aurora’s eyes widened.   Where did that come from?

The point was Harry was comfortable with everyone but her.  And it wasn’t right to be treated differently… When she was basically the same as Prudence Weasley.  

Except you’re most definitely not the same as safe, reliable, and trustworthy Prudence Weasley… Aurora ignored the snide inner turmoil and straightened her shoulders. 

Pru had stepped back toward her father and Aurora fixed a smile on her face.  

“Uncle Harry,” she said softly (wincing slightly at the way calling him ‘uncle’ felt), lifting her hands slowly, as if to ask for a hug.  She was moving toward him, aware that the smile he’d had for Pru in no way matched the farce of a grin he’d conjured for her.  

Her arms went around his waist as Harry lifted one hand to her shoulder, patting it a few times before settling his grip on her upper arm.  

There was a tingling sensation running through his chest and hand - everywhere her body had come into contact with his - he burned.  

The hug lasted maybe a few seconds before Aurora pulled away and looked down into his green eyes.  Her heels allowed her to stand a few inches taller than the chosen one , and Aurora savored the confidence boost.  

Unfortunately, however, the added height did nothing to stop the stupify that overtook her when his eyes smoldered the way they currently did.

Fuck, he was so handsome.  

Aurora took another step back, standing between Pru and her mum.  They were deep in conversation about some rare beast Pru had been studying while abroad while Ron listened with rapt attention.  

While the room continued to spin around them, everyone in their own conversations and laughing at the jokes and memories shared over their collective histories - Aurora remained locked in his searing green gaze.  

There was a flush of heat filling the pit of her stomach and blossoming through the rest of her body.  Did he feel it too?  

Was that a slight pink hue on his cheeks, barely visible above his beard?  

His beard…

The uninvited memory of his firm lips against hers, the rough edge of his beard pressing into her skin…  

Aurora’s lips parted slightly and Harry couldn’t breathe.  Those wild curls, pulled to one side of her head, draped over her shoulder, shining like pale silver in the night.  The blush settled in on her high cheekbones, slightly angular, slightly hollow.  

There was an itching in his fingers again - but this time they didn’t itch for his wand.  They itched to glide  along the curve of her cheek; the skin looked so smooth and cold there.  

But she wasn’t cold.  She burned - he knew she burned.  

“...isn’t that right, Harry?”  Hermione’s voice pulled his attention, breaking whatever had been brewing between him and Aurora.  

Harry looked down to Hermione.  “Of course,” he said curtly - having not a clue as to what he was tacitly confirming, then turned and walked away, leaving the group behind him a bit puzzled.  

“Alright…?” Ron said dismissively, diffusing the tension in the air.  He was always good at that.  

Just then Teddy Lupin and Pru’s younger sister, Pandora, slid into their circle, effectively painting over Harry’s abrupt departure.  Ron was thoroughly distracted by the additions and Pru’s eyes went wide, a faint blush coloring the curve of her cheeks..  

Aurora noticed the way Pru’s back straightened when Lupin ran his eyes over her. She would need to make it a point to ask Prudence about this development.   But not now; now she needed to figure out what had crawled up Potter’s arse - or at the very least figure out what he’d said to her mother.

“Mum,” Aurora turned to Hermione, irritation evident in her voice.  Hermione turned to face her daughter, understanding quickly settling in after noticing the shift of Aurora’s eyes.  

“I’m not sure what you thought would happen, sweetheart.”  Hermione turned to grab a glass of champagne then looked back up to her daughter.  Despite the fact that Aurora was well over six feet in heels, Hermione still had the ability to make her feel like a little child, looking up into those dangerous, wise eyes.  

Hermione glanced at their friends standing nearby then back to her daughter.  “I’m afraid Harry is still quite upset with you.”  Aurora huffed in irritation.  “I don’t understand.  If the DMLE were able to clear out the remaining beasts, there should be nothing else you need from Harry.  You know he’s not an active auror anymore, darling.”  Hermione took another sip.  “He was merely,” she hesitated.  Aurora watched her mother swallow down the frustration evident in her tone and fix a smile on her face.

Aurora hated that smile… it was the one she’d always seen growing up, in every interview, at every book signing, in every default moment in which ‘the golden girl’ needed to remain level headed and tame.

It hurt her feelings, the fact her mother refused to share her true feelings with her.

Hermione cleared her throat.  “Harry was doing your father a favor,” she finished, leveling her daughter with a vacant glare she’d perfected over the years.  

Aurora sighed before lifting her glass back to her lips, but before she could finish her drink the crystal was pulled from her hand.  

“Where did you get this?” her mother hissed.  

Aurora blew out a breath in exasperation. 

Hermione rolled her eyes then waved her hand over the crystal flute, turning it back into its original shape of an ornate tumbler, full of a dark brown liquid that was most definitely not champagne.  

Aurora’s cheeks burned as her mother just stared at the glass in her hand.

“Honestly Aurora, when will you stop getting Freddy into trouble?” Aurora scoffed and turned to leave, not wanting to go through the complicated explanation as to why Freddy Nott was on her shit list and would remain there, until further notice.  

She shouldn’t have come.  It would have just been much better, for everyone, had she stayed in her  cottage, by her little fire, and out of sight.  She’d just needed to make sure the DMLE didn’t suspect her involvement and that Harry wasn’t going to report her to the Beast Division for what she’d stolen.  

Well, stolen back.  The nest of creatures she’d taken hadn’t belonged to those poachers in the first place.

Aurora was gliding through the crowded hall, offering insincere smiles and quick waves to anyone vying for her attention.  There were just too many people here.  

Everyone she’d grown up with…

Everyone her parents had grown up with… 

It was like a nonstop family reunion - every time someone graduated or married or had a baby or did something worth commemorating.  It was too much - especially when the one person she- 

The one person she felt closest to was…

Aurora’s breaths were coming in quick spurts and she felt light headed.  The pressure in her head was too much, the noise - the noise was too much.  She turned at the entrance of the ball room, and walked swiftly down the main foyer toward Theo's study.  

There was a floo in there.  Suddenly the image of her little cottage at Hemlock Grove felt much more amenable than her continued presence here. 

The halls were much quieter, but far too bright.  The modern wood floor was a strong contrast against the stark white of the walls.  It would have been overbearing were it not for the innumerable amount of framed pictures and moving portraits covering the brilliant white surfaces.  

Aurora reached down to pull her heels off, the clack of them on the wood was giving her a migraine.  She continued, barefoot, toward Theo’s office - ignoring the years and years of smiling faces and precious moments watching her try to escape. 

She reached the ornate oak door, pointed her wand at the handle, cast the enchantments to unlock it and slipped inside.  

The stiff smell of rich leather and spice filled her mind as she closed the door quietly behind her, but the fire in the hearth was already alive.

“So you’re following me now?”  Aurora’s shoulders stiffened at the sound of his voice.  

Fuck.

Aurora turned around, flipping her hair as she went.  Harry was, of course, sitting in one of the royal blue arm chairs beneath the floor to ceiling windows at the back of the study.  He was slumped in the chair with a tumbler of whiskey pressed against his forehead.  

“You’re not supposed to be here,” she whispered - it was the first thing that popped into her mind, but she regretted the words as soon as they came out.  It was the first thing she’s said to him when he’d found her at the compound three weeks ago.

“Well, I suppose we’re two for two then, aren't we?.”  His voice was sardonic, which really was not a good look for him. 

Aurora narrowed her eyes. 

“No, we’re not anything,” she said calmly, moving over to pour herself a glass.  She could feel his eyes on her as she moved but she couldn’t explain the sensation it filled her with. It wasn't sexual… Not entirely.  

It was something deeper and it bothered her that she didn’t know what to call it.  

Aurora turned to face him before downing the contents of her glass.  The burn of the liquid should have done something to pacify the flames burning within her, but it did nothing.  It did nothing but stoke them higher.  

“Why have you been avoiding me?”  She asked plainly.  

Harry’s thick brows lifted at her boldness and he sat up in the chair, finishing his own drink. 

“Alright then,” he said just loud enough for her to hear.  If this was what she wanted to do?  To act as if he were the one dictating how the world was to revolve around her, then that was fine.  But he was tired of playing into her hand. 

“First of all, you take no responsibility for yourself and your actions.  You could have gotten yourself killed, Aurora.  And what’s more so, you could have gotten me killed.”  He noticed the flicker of emotion pass behind her eyes at that.  

“You use your considerable, yet unstable power to pursue whatever it is that suits your fancy and blindly run head first into danger.”  Harry’s voice was getting louder.  He hadn’t meant for it to, but that’s what she did to him… She made him crazy and he, more often than not, forgot his patience and composure.  

“I don’t run-”

“And,” he cut her off, “you think you’re untouchable.  That because you wield this great power, and that because you have a reason , you are exempt from the bill that always comes due.”  He was standing now, moving toward her - letting everything that had been festering for the past three weeks out.  “You think you’re beyond the consequences?  You think death doesn’t come for us all?”

Aurora took a breath - he was right in front of her now.  So fucking close she could smell the tint of whiskey on his breath and the warmth of his skin.  

“You think that rules are for other people, Aurora,” the stern quality of his voice pulled at that burning ache deep in her belly.  The same power she had yet to master - it called to him.  It yearned for him .  

She looked straight into his eyes, holding his magnetic gaze.  She wondered if he saw her - if he understood…

Aurora thought he might - being who he was and having gone through everything he did.  But the way he glared at her, as if there was no one on Earth he held more contempt for than her, it was heartbreaking.  

Then the strangest thing happened.  The rough sensation of something sliding up her arm and over her shoulder drew her attention and she looked down to see Harry’s hand slowly moving across her bare skin. 

Aurora looked back to his eyes only to see they were preoccupied with what his fingers were doing along the smooth curve of her shoulder. 

“What if I hadn’t gotten to you in time,” his voice was a whisper that caused her skin to pebble beneath his touch.  

Harry shifted his focus back to her eyes. 

Those eyes.

“What if I had lost you…” it wasn’t a question. His eyes were wide and unseeing. His mind was somewhere, somewhere far away and she didn’t know where to find him. 

Aurora lifted her hands to his forearms and pulled herself against him. 

“I’m here Harry, I’m right here,” she felt the air shift around them.  “I’m alright. You…” her voice didn’t feel like her voice. She felt the churn of her magic blooming again, deep in her belly.  “You will never lose me,” she breathed, hoping he understood what she herself hadn’t been able to quite understand. 

Harry’s eyes flashed back to hers.  They were dark and hungry and she knew - Aurora knew he felt it. He had to.  

Aurora opened her mouth to tell him she was sorry - she’d yet to actually say the words, but before she could so much as utter a syllable, his mouth was crushing down into hers. 

The force knocked her against Theo’s desk and the breath from her lungs. 

He was kissing her. 

He was kissing her. 

Oh gods, the curve of his lips, the ones she’d been dreaming about, they molded perfectly to hers. His warm breath passed across her skin as he panted against her flesh. 

Aurora slipped her hands from his arms and up over his chest. Fuck , he was magnificent. His large hands on her hips slid up her back and over her shoulders deep into her curls. 

Holy shit, Harry Potter… Harry fucking Potter! He was kissing her! 

Her brain was beginning to short circuit as the burn in her body began to throb. She could feel her pulse in her throat and hear every blood vessel in her body ignite. Then he slid his tongue against the seam of her lips and Aurora could not withstand any more. 

Her control snapped and her arms wound around his neck as she opened her lips to run her tongue along his. He tasted so fucking good. 

Harry groaned into her mouth, hunching his shoulders and tightening his hold around her. His fingers dug deeper into her curls, her wild, thick curls.  Was he trying to keep her still?  Keep her from running?  

She always ran…

Her body was delicate and small in his arms which only fueled the hunger he’d been ignoring for so long.   Aurora was everything but delicate and small. She was strong and vibrant and larger than life. She was… 

She was Draco and Hermione’s daughter. 

Harry immediately pulled his head away resulting in a resounding smack as their lips broke apart. 

Shit.  What had he done?

Aurora’s lips were swollen and had turned the most beautiful shade of red. Her pale cheeks were just a tint lighter than her lips, but it was her eyes… 

One pale green and one soft brown, hazy and lost within the moment. 

“Aurora, I…” his hands slid down her sides, back to her waist as he searched for something to say.  

Anything. 

But it didn’t matter, because at that exact moment the door to the study opened slowly and the faint laughter drifting from the ballroom decimated whatever had been flooding the room only seconds before. 

Harry dropped his hands and jumped away right as Teddy Lupin peered around the door to see if the room was empty enough for him to steal some of Nott’s good stuff. 

It was, in fact, not empty, and what had been a simple task appointed to him by the beautiful ginger witch waiting for him in the menagerie became infinitely more complicated. 

Harry turned to Aurora then back to his godson; a very Lupin-like smirk slowly spread across Teddy’s lips which Harry didn’t particularly appreciate. 

“Excuse me,” Harry said in a gruff tone before pushing past Teddy and storming out. 

He took all the tension in the room with him, leaving Aurora light headed. She leaned back against the desk and released a shaky breath. 

“Well,” Teddy said with a gleam in his eye then casually leaned against the door frame. “Is now a bad time to ask how the raid went, or have there perhaps been other developments I should know about?”

Chapter Text

Teddy Lupin was not a complicated man, not in the slightest.  

He was kind, loyal, easy to get along with and diligent.  He was every ounce a Hufflepuff, and perhaps that’s why Aurora tolerated him.  

He’d become a curse breaker and procurer of rare artifacts, so it wasn’t uncommon for her to work alongside him.  The primary difference between their chosen fields of expertise, however, lay in the fact that he tended to work in line with the law while she worked in a murky, gray area between breaking and not breaking it. 

But, ever the  loyal badger, Teddy did not see fit to chastise her, nor did he harp upon her for her questionable actions.  He simply trusted her. 

But that was at work.

And they were not working, at present.  

No…

She was leaning on her Uncle Theo’s desk, two empty tumblers of firewhiskey abandoned on either side of her and the evidence of what had happened, clear as day, on her face.  

Aurora felt the swollen heat in her lips and the flush in her cheeks.  Damn her pale complexion for being far too revealing.  A lumos couldn’t have made it anymore obvious.  

Teddy slipped further into the room, closing the door and the distance between them.  

She didn’t want to look at him; refused to look at him actually, but Teddy seemed preoccupied collecting the empty glasses she and Harry had used, scourgifying them, then filling them with Theo’s whiskey.  

Freddy was going to be in so much trouble - there wouldn’t be any left after this evening.  

“So, that was…”  Teddy’s voice was nonchalant, but Aurora was not ready, at all, for any type of discussion.

“None of your business,” she snapped, pushing against Theo’s desk and moving swiftly towards the floo. 

Teddy didn’t respond, merely continued pouring his drinks, keeping his focus on the crystal in his hands.  

Aurora hesitated before the hearth, the warm, red flames were soothing against her cold skin.  It was as if Harry had taken all the warmth with him when he stormed out.  She felt like crying - but she didn’t know why.  

She’d been the one to start this… And it was wrong.  Right?  Harry was the same age as her father..  But it didn’t feel wrong… Not to her.

She glanced over her shoulder.  Teddy’s purple curls partially obscured his face - he was patiently waiting for her to make a decision.  She knew he wouldn’t push, but he also wouldn’t leave if she did, in fact, want to tell him something.  

“It’s complicated,” she murmured, a sadness in her voice that she didn’t understand.  She’d kissed plenty of blokes before, this should have been no different.  

Right?

Teddy replaced the decanter back on the table, and levitated the glasses before moving toward the door.  Aurora clocked the twist of his lips in that smirk she’d only seen on people like her father and Aunt Andromeda.  

There was too much floating around in her mind; too much she didn’t understand.  The taste of something forbidden, and yet perfect remained on her lips.  She needed to talk to him, but she couldn’t just talk to him.  

“Why not,” Teddy asked.  Aurora looked at him again, eyes wide.  Had she said that out loud?

“No,” he answered.  Aurora glared at him, he wasn’t supposed to use his abilities on her - it was one of their rules.  “But before you get angry - I can’t help it, you’re practically shouting at me, your… conflicted feelings.”  

“I’m not conflicted about anything!”  Aurora turned back to face the flames. She grabbed a handful of floo powder, and ignored the way her clenched fist shook. 

Her tremor pulled Teddy’s focus to the bits of floo powder slipping through her fingers, the grin on his face slipping away to concern.  

“Hey,” he moved toward her, his cool touch sliding along her shoulder and to her neck.  Her skin was uncommonly cold, it was strange.  Aurora was always moments away from combusting, he imagined, with how hot her body temperature ran.  His hand on her skin slowed the quivering, but she was still struggling to calm whatever nerves were bubbling below the surface.  

“It’s alright, hey…”  Teddy slowly reached for Aurora’s hand and loosened her fingers to dispense the powder tightly compacted in her fist.  He considered sending a patronus to the witch still waiting for him; he was a tad bit out of his element, here.  

Aurora was his cousin, yes, but they hadn’t grown up together; not like she had with Freddy Nott and Prudence.  It wasn’t until they’d realize how beneficial they could be to one another professionally in which they began to grow close.  

Well, that, and he happened to be in love with her best friend…

Aurora allowed him to guide her to one of the armchairs Harry had been sitting in before.  The burning in her stomach continued to grow and collapse in on itself - she felt out of control and unstable .  

It was as if whatever had transpired between her and Harry - it had been feeding, or at the very least stoking the magic within her.  It was cooled and smoldering softly, like embers beneath a cauldron, while she’d been in his arms and now… It felt like it did when she’d been a child, unable to understand or control it.  

Aurora sucked in a ragged breath and jerked away from his touch.  “It’s not alright,” she breathed through the gnawing in her stomach.  It was looking for something to cool it, to temper it, but there was nothing there, and the touch from Teddy - though sympathetic and kind, was making it worse.  

“I have to go,” she jumped to her feet, spun toward the fireplace, and threw a handful of floo powder into the raging red flames.  Aurora barely waited for the fire to change green before she was running into it, calling out the name of her cottage.  

Teddy let out an exhausted sigh, smiling to himself.  His cousin was a beautiful disaster.  

Quite powerful and destructively smart, yes… But a beautiful disaster she remained.

***

Harry made it back to the ballroom, his nerves frayed and singed at the edges.  This wasn’t sustainable… this wasn’t - this was completely inappropriate.  

And he had kissed her.  

Harry took a deep breath before running his hands through his hair.  The disheveled black waves fell back into place almost immediately.  Everyone continued to mingle, and the dull roar of the party seemed completely unfazed by the colossal shift that had just occurred.  They were all drinking, laughing and carrying on as if nothing had been amiss, as if his world wasn’t spinning off its axis, as if his heart wasn’t about to beat right through his fucking chest.  

Fuck - he hadn’t just kissed her.  He’d properly snogged her, against Nott’s desk, in Ginny’s house… While Hermione… Her mother had been just a few hundred feet away. 

And Teddy…

“Shit…” 

This was really fucking bad...  

***

Aurora burst through the floo into her living room, a mist of soot and smoke orbiting around her in a dark mass that closely resembled the chaos brewing in her mind.  

It wasn’t her fault - none of it had been.  She’d tried to be compliant and perfect like her flawless  mother had always been.  She’d done her best to harness the chaos inside her, this power that seemed to drive her most of the time, but it wasn’t containable.  

Aurora felt the tendrils of that aching magic continue to pulse deep inside and she couldn’t control it.  It wasn’t her fault.

It wasn’t her fault. 

Was it her fault that whatever was within Harry seemed to be the only calming draught to the whirlwind within her?  

Was it her fault she’d been born with something unstable and uncontrollable - and the only fucking time it seemed to be reasonably tamable was in the presence of -

There were sparks of energy radiating from her curls, and vibrating through her skin. When the floo roared to life, and from the green flames emerged Harry fucking Potter.  

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me…” Aurora sneered.  

Harry, however, was undeterred by her attitude.  

“Look, this continues to get more and more problematic the longer it goes unresolved,” he said, ignoring her obvious irritation.  

“Oh, is that so?”  Aurora asked mockingly.  She idly remembered she left her heels in Theo’s office… She wished she had them still on; she’d have a few inches on him and feel somewhat more confident.  

“I just need for whatever you keep playing at… I need you to stop.”

She scoffed, partly from incredulity, but partly from a bone deep pain that must have meant he didn’t crave her the same way she craved him.  

Harry was flustered, and his cheeks were that same delicious shade of pink, barely visible against that thick beard.  Her mouth watered - she knew what it felt like against her skin now…

“Whatever I’m playing at, Potter ?  Is that your professional assessment then?”  Harry refused to hear the way she spat his surname at him, the same way her father used to.  “Has it occurred to you, at all, that I’m not playing at anything?”  

There was a sudden intensity in her voice.  It dropped down a register to something earthy and ominous.  Something began to ache in his chest; he was beginning to grow tired of this sensation.

“You’re twenty-six!  I can find no other reason why you continue doing this!  I mean come on, Rory,” Harry tilted his head, his ire reaching new levels.  “How long are we to do this?  Hmm?”  He didn’t pause for an answer.  

“The dragon racing, the magical exposure risks?  The tomb raiding… And that was just following Hogwarts, wasn’t it?  You only seem to grow more and more dangerous as time goes on.  What was it last year?  The dark sorcerer you pissed off enough to…”  Harry didn’t want to think about that time.  He really thought he would lose her that time.  He took a steadying breath.  

“Your father-”

“Don’t you fucking dare,” Aurora hissed - wishing she could stop this, stop all of this, from going any further, but she couldn’t move.

“No!”  Harry shouted back.  “Your father was hurt because of your carelessness! That’s why your parents asked me to help in the first place”  His voice was thick with a directness she’d never heard from him before.  “I’m not even an active Auror anymore - but it’s like I have a full time assignment, protecting you from yourself!

“And how many more people need to get hurt before you stop?  Your mum?  You brother and sister?  Teddy, Pru? Me?”  

Tears began to well in her eyes as his words sliced through her.  She didn’t want anyone to be hurt because of her - anyone.  

“The world was cruel to them, Aurora.  It was utterly vile and despicable to your parents.”  Harry paused - considering the world of his youth.  “They will never ever allow the darkness that haunted them to touch you.  They will never burden you with the lengths they will go to, to keep you safe.

“But it’s a rather poor way of repaying that love when you consistently do everything within your power to endanger not only yourself but everyone else around you.”

“Stop, please… Please, stop it,” she whispered, but it was as if he didn’t hear her.  Or he didn’t care.

“And these dangers you hunt?  What if they began to hunt you back?  What would happen, should an enemy you make, find a way to exact revenge?”  Aurora was caught in the dark tenor of his voice.  “If they decide to come after Leo or Lyra?  All in an effort to hurt you… To teach you a lesson.”  Aurora gasped, tears spilling down her cheeks.

“I can tell you what it’s like, if you really want to know.  I can tell you what it feels like when someone is made to pay the price for your arrogance, for your stubbornness.  Is that what you want, Rory?”

She glared at him - she hated when he called her that.  She wasn’t a child.  

But Lyra and Leo… She softened again, thinking of her siblings.  The twins were everything beautiful in the world.  They were in the same year as Harry’s daughter at Hogwarts and… 

Harry’s daughter.

This whole time he spent berating her for the danger she was putting herself and her family in, but - 

Was she truly that selfish?  She was putting Jaymes at risk too, wasn’t she?  

Aurora looked back up to him - seeing him in a whole other light.  He wasn’t just her safety, her warmth.  He was so much more than a loyal bodyguard and he certainly deserved so much more than to be treated as such.

“Harry,” he could feel the pain in her tone. Her expressive eyes widened and every vestige of ego and pride seemed to disintegrate.  She didn’t want to know the level of pain and loss he spoke of - honestly.  

But that wasn’t why she couldn’t stop… 

“It’s like… It's like I’m on fire.  All the fucking time,” she exhaled sharply as if the truth was bursting at her seams - dying to be let out.  She slapped a hand to the counter to try and keep herself upright.

Harry swallowed the moisture filling his mouth - she sounded so small - so lost.  The pain of the truth trying to strangle her.

Aurora leaned over the counter before slowly lowering to the stool behind her.  She pinched the bridge of her nose and searched for the right words, gently wiping away the tears still trailing down her cheeks.

Harry watched in silence.  Aurora was always so dark and mysterious, always so strong and ready to step into any ring and fight.  But standing there, watching her scour her mind for what she wanted to say - he’d never seen her look so vulnerable…

Vulnerability and Aurora Malfoy were not two things one would ever associate together, in any scenario.  But being here, in her home… Her pale, bare feet contrasting against the dark wood of the floor, the modest length of her black dress - hanging off her delicate frame, making her look long and her skin like silk.  The elegant twist of her wrist pressed against her abdomen - was she in pain?  Was she nervous?  

Had he hurt her?  Had he gone too far?

Harry moved toward her.  This was as much his fault as it was hers, he supposed.  He’d never bothered to hold her accountable.  He’d blindly followed the wishes of her parents.  Because a part of him - the part that used to break into bank vaults and ride dragons, the part that snuck into restricted sections, the part that attacked professors and killed giant snakes with magical swords… 

That part of him knew of that fire she spoke of.  He knew what it felt like trying to contain it.

It was unbearable.

“Aurora, I-”

“It’s like you’re oxygen , Harry.”  She turned her mesmerizing eyes to his, cutting him off.  “It’s like I’m on fire and you feed the flames… And the closer you are, the more you’re there, the hotter it burns.”  He didn’t mean to - he didn’t mean to touch her again, but somehow his fingers were running along the exposed length of her arm, down to the delicate turn of her wrist.  

“But the burn turns to something that warms me and fills me up and…” Aurora felt the fresh sting of tears.  She despised them, but Harry moved closer.  

She was so disastrously beautiful.  

“... and it’s like when you’re near,”  Harry whispered,  his voice like gravel, something within him connecting to the burn within her.  “Everything feels bearable.  Everything feels controllable.  You don’t feel exposed and like your about to-”

“-self-destruct,” they said in unison.  

An indomitable pull returned, and surrounded the two Gryffindors beneath a profound sense of comprehension.  Aurora searched his eyes, losing herself in the magnetic depths of the browns and golds colliding within his emerald gaze.  

A lazy tremor of something passed between them and it was unclear who fell into who first.  

Their lips came together in a slow sort of understanding, and neither Harry nor Aurora were strong enough to stop it.  

She was pulling him closer to her as he was pulling her body closer to his.  His mouth aligned against hers, the sounds of his harsh breathing filling the air around them.  Aurora groaned against the heady desire swirling within her mind at the noises he made.

She stood to her feet, matching his height, then slipped her hands over his shoulder and into that chaotic mess of hair; so thick and coarse against her fingers.  Harry gasped at the sensation of her long fingers combing through his locks, scraping gently over his scalp.  

The magic tumbling in his stomach began to settle along the embers of her touch and slowly come to life.  It did exactly what she’d described - it filled his chest and branched out through his body.  

As he continued to drink from her pillowy lips, sucking lightly on the top - so heavy and thick - she whimpered into his mouth allowing the warmth pulsing through his body to flare to life.  The grip he’d had on her hips relaxed and his arms wrapped about her slight frame.  

Harry was lifting her against the hard length of his body; his rough hands pulling the soft material of her dress up as well - exposing the long, sensuous curve of her leg.   He grabbed the back of her knee, his rough hands sending electric currents through her body, and hitched her leg over his hip.  She couldn’t help but notice the hard outline of something pressing against her thigh as she clung to him for balance.  

Fuck he wasn’t even significantly hard and she could feel him…

“Harry, please,” she pleaded.  

“ Fuck ,” Harry moaned - her voice was so soft and needy.  He’d never heard that sound come from her before.  He wanted to bottle the melody of it, he wanted to make a potion of the light chime in her need, and the raspy quality of her breath, and swallow it down into his fucking soul. Was this what Ron had heard in the deluminator all those years ago?    

Her hands were everywhere, it seemed: on his scalp, sliding over his jaw, massaging the skin beneath his beard. Harry was losing his hold on reality - she was - her touch was…

“Hold on,” she whispered, as her breath fell into his mouth and her other leg came up to wrap around his waist.  .  

Aurora apparated them into her bedroom, the twisting and curling of their bodies through the empty molecules of space and air resulted in a delicious urgency within the wizard currently between her thighs.  His arms around her tightened to the point she couldn’t breathe and she gasped at the sudden intensity.  

Once his feet were solid beneath him and his brain caught up with what she had done, his hands loosed from around her and dropped to the exposed skin of her legs wrapped tightly around his waist.  

Aurora felt the rough edges of his hands slide over the sensitive skin of her thighs and a shiver ran through her spine.  

The magic was alive and panting within her belly.  It was pushing her, it was screaming at her, it was consuming her and gods how she wanted to burn.  

His fingers were digging into her skin, digging into the softness of her thighs, needing to feel what else was just as soft.  

What else was creamy and smooth against his calloused hands?

The woman in his arms released him and began sliding down his body.  Harry was knocked back slightly, confused by the fact that this was unseemly, and yet there remained this extraordinary urge to stroke the flames within his body.  

If this were to be his destruction - then let the flames burn glorious and bright.  

There was no room to think as she continued her journey to the floor.  She was kneeling before him, her hands at the waist of his trousers.  

“Oh shit… Aurora… ” Harry stumbled back, the bed causing him to lose his balance.  She was not wasting a moment, but he wasn’t - Harry hadn’t come here to do this.  

Aurora was in a mad haze, her focus so intense on the task at hand.  Harry grabbed her wrists as she continued working the buttons.  This isn't right… This wasn’t-  His brain was short circuiting.

"Please,” her voice was full of that same desperate need that plagued him on a daily basis, the same hunger that drove him to the point of exhaustion most days - having nowhere to release this … this aggression.  It was only when she was near did the consuming inferno seem to somewhat dissipate into something bearable.  

Her eyes were wide, imploring him for something he didn’t know how to give.   

The way she pleaded to him with her gaze, with her giant, brilliant, different colored eyes.  He was captivated and with his hands still wrapped around her wrists he didn’t try to stop her as she slowly finished the last few buttons.    

Aurora never dropped his gaze.  Not once.  

Not when she finally reached the warmth of his cock, not when she’d felt the heaviness of him in her hand.  Not when his eyes darkened as she gently handled the impressive length of him.  

Aurora moved closer, still on her knees, her gaze still locked in the endless depths of his eyes.  Her mouth watered - she had to taste him.  She doubted he’d let her feel him deep inside her - this was the quickest way to ensure she got to at least have him once.

Just a taste.  Just one.  Then she could let him go…

Harry watched her - her focus never straying from his.  There were fissures of what he could only describe as the remnants of a Crucio coursing lightly through his veins.  The absolute horror of watching her do this combined with the unbridled need for her to do this was sending waves of desperate hunger through his body.  Harry was paralyzed between the weight of the conflicting emotions.  His breathing became harsher and his body tensed to the point he felt his muscles might snap.  

She opened her mouth and ran the rough edge of her tongue up the length of him and a sharp hiss escaped his throat.  His grip on her wrist tightened, but he again, didn’t stop her movements.  

“Aurora,” he said in a warning tone.  He couldn’t stop this - he couldn’t move.  His body was rigid while she held his cock in her warm, delicate hand.  How was he supposed to stop this?  

“Please, Harry,” she said as she swiped her tongue down the length of him again - this time gently prodding the sensitive skin at the base of cock.  Her beautiful face had disappeared beneath the turgid strain of his erection; his shaft sat on her smooth cheek as she slowly licked his balls.  “Just one taste,” she murmured, coming back up. “Please…”

Then she did it, she parted her lips, hollowed out her cheeks and lowered herself onto him, taking him as deep into her mouth as she could, not once tearing her gaze from his.  

Harry groaned in a painful sort of anxiety.  Did she hurt him?  Aurora did her best to widen her jaw and slide her face back down on him.  Fuck, he was thick…   she was only able to get about halfway when her lips refused to accommodate the stretch any further.  

She didn’t swallow down the saliva seeping from her lips, and with her hands still caught in his grasp she refused to remove his cock from her mouth.  He would push her away - he would run away…

Aurora was not going to let him run away this time.  

She let her eyes close, breaking their endless moment and began to bob her head up and down.  She didn’t take him as deeply as she could, but she needed room to swirl her tongue over the weeping head of his dick.  She had to show him how good she could be for him.  

He was always there for her - always.  

And she didn’t deserve him.  She didn’t deserve his loyalty or his strength… But it would taste like a lie to say she didn’t crave him - all of him.  

Harry closed his eyes and dropped his head back, groaning out undecipherable petitions to whatever deity might be listening.  She destroyed him . 

Harry was unable to do anything besides feel the determination of her lips as she continued moving her face back and forth on his neglected member.  “Bloody, fucking hell…” his voice was somewhere above him.  He wasn’t able to process what was happening - he could only feel the warmth of her tongue as it - oh shit…  

She was speeding up , the pressure of her lips around him and the gentle, barely there scrape of her teeth against the length of his cock was surely going to send him to his grave.  “ Aurora -” he gasped, not sure what he was trying to say.  

He’d never allowed himself to imagine this, imagine her on her knees, taking him in her mouth, but holy fucking Helga… he certainly would never be able to picture anything else, now.  Not for the remainder of his fucking life. 

She felt herself grow wetter as the pitiful, lovely pleas falling from Harry’s lips did things to her resolve.  She’d just wanted to taste him - to know how far she could take him… But this wasn’t going to be enough.  Aurora was quite selfish, and it wouldn’t be enough to drink him down. She was going to need him deep inside her now.  

The fire was settling between her legs and she squirmed at his feet, wanting to feel him stretch another set of lips.  

Aurora wanted to use her hands to jerk him as she continued fucking him with her mouth, but his hold was ironclad.  His hold on her wrists was beginning to hurt - she would have bruises there tomorrow. She glanced up at him - the image of tortured pain evident on his face was something she would hold dear to her heart.   

He was so beautiful and worn - the quiet panic in his eyes, the shudder of his breath, the anguish in his furrowed brows...  He devastated her , with the urgent need for more and the destructive sense of duty she knew was plaguing him.  She wasn’t fighting fair.  

The witch knew she wasn’t fighting fair.  But this was beyond either of them now.  The unbearable power within her was sighing in relief and she wasn’t going to stop.  She needed him - and whether he wanted to admit it not, he needed her as well.  

Aurora twisted her wrist, breaking his hold on her, wandlessly removed her knickers then shoved Harry back onto her bed.  He was still clothed in the dark green robes he’d worn earlier and she was still in her black dress, sans undergarments.  

“Please, darling, we can’t-”  Harry’s anxious plea was cut short as Aurora reached down to pull her dress up and over her head, discarding it carelessly on the floor behind her.  

Fucking Merlin, Circe and the seven circles of hell where he was surly going to burn…

Aurora Eloise Scorpia Malfoy was completely naked on top of him, her creamy skin almost glowing beneath the warm lights in her room.  Harry gulped air into his lungs - they didn’t seem to be working.  The overwhelming scent of Aurora filled his mind, green apples and white roses.  

Harry was undone.  

Aurora felt beautiful and powerful beneath the dumbstruck look in Harry’s eyes.  The man who’d seen it all, had overcome darkness and death… The man who’d fought dark wizards and beasts and gone to literal ends of the Earth for her…

She leaned forward, her curls falling around her face to shield them from everything else, and pressed her lips to his.  His hands slid over her hips slowly at first.  She thrilled beneath the jagged edges of his hands on her skin.  

Aurora parted her lips and began to suck gently on his lower lip, allowing her tongue to dance against his.  It was slow and sensual - the mingling of that muscle, slowly and deliberately - as if they had all the time in the world. 

He was stiff and thick against her parted thighs; she wanted to feel him deep inside, but if this was all she got - she wanted to savor it.  Savor him .  

Aurora shifted her weight onto her left arm and ran her hand up beneath his still buttoned shirt.  She felt the coarse hair at the base of his stomach and the slight flinch of his muscles beneath her gentle touch.  His lips were still caught in the war with hers and she was slowly grinding her center against his pelvis, his cock shifting perfectly to align with her core.  

She tasted like a rainstorm in the middle of a sunny day.  The brilliant heat was overwhelming, almost to the point of suffocation and just when he knew he couldn’t handle anymore, the soft, cooling relief of rain began to sooth away everything that had come before.  

“I need you, Harry,” her voice was soft against his ear.  She planted her lips against the same spot.  “Please, please let me,” she was begging so sweetly, so perfectly…

Harry’s fingers dug into her hips tighter and slid up her back, the hunger, the painful swell in his cock, the magic within his stomach trying to burn through his fucking body - he snapped.  

In a flash of something that wasn’t entirely him, but rather a part of him that had been buried for far too long, Harry was turning her over, her body still clutched precariously against his chest.  Aurora let out a surprised yelp, but clung tighter to him as Harry settled himself between her legs, positioning his cock at her entrance.  

Wait, what was he doing…?  He was about to ruin everything; to fuck Draco and Hermione’s daughter… He was-

Aurora’s warm fingers slid over his cheeks, drawing his attention back to her.  

“Stay with me, Harry.  Please.”

“Fuck ,” Harry whispered against her mouth as she pulled his face back to hers.  Unable to fight this anymore; unable to deny the pulsing need within him anymore...  

She was so small, so delicately raw beneath him, but he wasn’t going to hurt her - no matter how hard the urge was within him to impale her.  

Harry pushed slowly against her entrance, the soft, warm opening of her delicious body was hesitant to allow him entrance.  Her fingers were pulling on his waist, she was silently begging for him to do it, but she couldn’t know what she was asking of him.  

“I can, I promise, I can take it, Harry… Please…” she begged, setting a blaze the last bits of his control, which hadn’t been much to begin with.  

Harry lifted his body above hers, both of their heads turning to watch.  He took hold of himself, the image of his hand wrapped around his girth nearly setting her aflame, lined himself up again and slid all the fucking way in.  He didn’t stop when he felt resistance, he didn’t pause when she cried out, he just continued to slide down the velvety warmth of her cunt until there was nowhere left for him to go. 

He held still for a moment, the tight fucking stretch of her was crippling his muscles and destroying every ounce of his ability to think. 

“So fucking good,” he murmured, the desperation in his voice pulling the ache deep within her to show him how good she could be.  She’d never move again if it meant keeping him here.  She couldn’t look at him - she couldn’t look down to see how he had disappeared inside her.  

He was motionless and still she wanted to scream.  It was far more than she’d anticipated but the burn within her, the coiling, raging magic - it was flowing through her body, humming through her veins - in perfect unity with her entire being.  There was no war, no chaotic power billowing and threatening to consume everything.  

She couldn’t scream because if he pulled away now she knew she might actually weep.  The peace that replaced the tumultuous pyre on which her magic consistently burned was quite possibly the single most transcendent moment of her life - and it was all while Harry Potter was inside her.  

Filling her.

Stretching her. 

Aurora was so full and so complete in that single moment - it spanned beyond two people in their trysting place.  

She opened her eyes slowly to see Harry’s look of profound understanding and fear clouding his features.  He was going to stop… 

He was going to stop!

No, no, no, no, no, no, no…   Aurora locked her legs around his hips, tightening her core surrounding his cock.  

Harry gasped at the sudden increase in pressure and slid out slowly.  

“Don’t, please, please.  Gods, please , Harry…” Aurora huffed and begged.  

Such a good girl she was trying to be for him. 

So tight and warm…

The frantic way she pleaded, and the sad whimper in her throat pulled against the conflicted emotions in his chest and broke apart the haze of guilt trying to cloud his mind.  Harry obliged and pushed back in slowly, the lewd squelch of his cock pushing against the abundance of moisture seeping from her made the urge to hear it again unbearable.  

It was as if everything within his mind focused on that single sound - of his cock penetrating her perfect cunt.  He looked back to her eyes, so wide and wanton and crushed his lips against hers again - hoping she understood.

He wasn’t going to be able to stop.  

Harry slid out again, savoring the delicious pull of her walls trying so hard to keep him inside.  He forced his tongue between her lips and settled his weight on top of her.  

It began slowly, the gradual push in and out of her body.  The perfect friction, the velvety warmth of her sopping cunt, somehow it was both the sweetest and the dirtiest thing he’d ever experienced.  

Aurora was begging between gasps, her weak voice, losing all rhythm and function as Harry gradually increased his speed.  

He thought it might begin to hurt - the unrelenting squeeze of her most sacred part around his cock, but her little body was accommodating to him and before he could consider what he was doing, his hips were snapping into hers. 

She was doing her best to hold back the screams trying to force their way out, Harry noticed the veins in her neck strain as she tightened her fists on his hips, her nails digging through the first layer of skin.  

Nothing was stopping the force with which he pounded into her.  She took it - she took every thrust, every smack, every rough shove of his cock into her heavenly heat.  

He hadn’t been fucking his cock into her long before there was a faint quivering of her walls around him.  

Was she going to come?  Holy shit, she was going to come just like this…   “Such a bloody good girl, you are,” his voice was dark.  Harry continued the same rhythm, thinking about how dangerous this woman was; how disastrous she was… So bold and violent, so ready to fight the world.  

“That’s it, that’s it,” Harry growled against the burning skin of her jaw.  She hadn’t needed his permission, but he gave it all the same - knowing it would intensify whatever was about to unravel her.  “Give it all to me.”

His magic flooded his bloodstream and propelled him forward, completing his descent into madness. Harry’s lips latched on her neck, his tongue running circles over a single spot and Aurora followed the sound of his voice bouncing through her mind. 

Give it to him, give it to him, give it to him… Fuck!

Aurora screamed as her orgasm ripped through her, a shocking twist in her belly that pushed and pushed until she felt her throat tighten from the lack of oxygen.  Her body was rigid and unyielding as Harry fucked her through the pleasure currently seizing her body.  

“Let go… that’s it. Let it go…” he encouraged, to which her body immediately responded by going pliant beneath him.  Her complete obedience and the throbbing of her beautiful cunt around him pushed him into oblivion and within a few moments he was falling apart inside her. 

Painting the walls of her pussy with everything he’d been holding onto for years now…  He couldn’t stop - it had been so long. 

It had been so long since anyone touched him and held him and begged for him… Harry was gasping for breath as he gave her everything he had, the pleasure in the base of his spine turning quickly to pain.  

Aurora felt his body tensing above her and lazily lifted her arms to wrap around his neck, slipping her fingers through his hair.  

“Harry…” she whispered.  Her eyes were barely able to focus.  “Harry,” she called again.  It was as if he’d been petrified.  

Aurora lifted her lips to his cheek and began kissing his warm, damp skin.  His muscles were quivering slightly as the release that had rocketed through his body left him with nothing but raw feeling.  

But the same fingers she’d been digging into his hips were now gently massaging his scalp, and the mouth she’d been sucking his cock with before was now running delicate kisses over his face.  

He was buried deep within her, their arousal seeping out of her, but she would do anything to keep him there for as long as possible.  

“Stay with me, Harry,” she cooed, forcing Harry down into that sunken place where need and want equated to the same thing. Harry was falling prey to her charm, lulling him into a sense of serenity.  

This hadn’t been what he’d come here for , the thought was somewhere in the back of his mind - but he couldn’t quite reach it.  

This was a disaster. He thought, his consciousness slipping into the darkness conjured by the witch still beneath him - rubbing soothing circles against his flesh. A monumentally beautiful disaster. 

Chapter Text

He was running through the woods.  

Why was he always running through the gods-forsaken woods?  

It was always the same muted, grey of those woods, where the birds remained hidden and the wind was curiously absent.  

The frigid air was burning his lungs as he ran, but he couldn’t stop.  

There were no snatchers after him - there was no Dark Lord hunting him.  

Still, Harry ran, his wand tight in his fist, a flurry of spells whizzing past his head.  They weren’t dark red or green or purple… They were brilliant bright whites and yellows, sending bursts of warmth around him as he continued running away.  

“Harry!  Please!” He heard a determined voice call out for him.  

It wasn’t Hermione…  

Harry continued running, thick, bare branches and dead leaves all around him - hindering his ability to run faster, but as he pushed through the dense brush, somehow he tumbled beyond the dark haze of the forest and into a clearing at the edge of the woods.  

The grass was greener here and the faint sound of a birdsong was present.  The trees were alive and surrounding the lovely cottage sitting in the center of the clearing.  It was as if the scene before him had been plucked straight from a storybook.  

A tall stone fence and wide wooden gate provided entry into the midst of a growing collection of flowers and shrubs. The stone facade and the roof's curvy shingles appeared pulled directly from the English cottages of old.  Moss grew along the curve of the entry and visible through the windows was a soft, warm light.  

Along the fence line was an odd plant growing to crowd the stone; beautiful green stems with pretty white clusters of tiny flowers blooming at the ends.  

“It’s poison, Harry,” her voice sounded from directly behind him.  

Harry reached for the stems and lifted one of the clusters to his lips. Before he could consume the flower, however, the woman behind him snatched the petals from his hand and devoured them herself.  

Harry spun around, grasping her shoulders and watching in horror as she consumed them.  

“Aurora, no,” he whispered.

Harry’s eyes shot open, a faint sheen of sweat covering his skin.  It took only a moment for his eyes to adjust to the darkness surrounding him; it wasn’t the darkness he was unaccustomed to.  

The air was sweet, and the bed was far too warm… 

Harry shifted his shoulders, his body still numb from the dream - from the immediate shift back to consciousness.  It always took a minute to recalibrate.  

Something heavy was on his chest.  

It was smooth and-

Shite…

Harry twisted a bit, running his hand slowly over the expanse of warm skin draped across his body and realized Aurora had fallen asleep with her head on his chest.  

On the bedside table, next to a few vials of powders and potions, sat his glasses.  He accio’d them with his free hand and set them back on his face, allowing him the opportunity to survey her room without her curious eyes watching him as he did.  

There were shadows in every corner and dark spots along the walls, as his eyes adjusted to the dark, he thought they might be shelves...  Harry wondered what filled them - what treasures she had stored in her room.  What was so precious to her to keep so close?   He idly ran his hand up her spine, her skin cool beneath his fingers.  

She whimpered, a perfect and delicious sound, shifting her hips as she nuzzled her cheek against him.  Her face was tilted up toward his and the thought occurred to Harry that he’d never seen anything quite as perfect.  

Her hair was a disastrous mess, her cheek was squished against his body, causing her face to appear lopsided and disfigured. Her lips were puffy from all the attention he’d given them mere hours before.  

She was breathtaking .  The way her dark lashes sat against her high cheekbones, the pout of her puffy, uneven lips, the peace that encompassed her…  She was so bloody beautiful.   

Harry smiled in the darkness, wondering what they could do when the sun rose. 

She would wake, warm and annoyed, he was certain. There was no reality in which the first born of Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger woke up chipper and excited to start any day; he chuckled at the thought.  Aurora would be nothing but grumpy at first light.  

This would give him the chance to insist that being awake was a good thing, and he would be able to show her the many reasons it was, indeed, a good morning.  He’d only been briefly acquainted with her beautiful cunt - shortly after he’d stirred back to life following their first round.  

She tasted like  life,  and he’d lapped at her pussy until she’d come all over again.  Fuck - he could enjoy her for hours, just like that - spread wide and dripping for him.  

He was beginning to grow hard at the thought of devouring her again, tasting her on his tongue.  He needed to calm his desires.  He’d put her through quite a bit over the past several hours.  He wasn’t sure of the time, and her windows were charmed so he was unable to see outside to determine it was still night.  

It mattered not, because they would have plenty of time.   

What had he been so worried about?  She was a consenting adult - a vivacious, strong woman that knew her own mind.  Harry glanced back down at the witch still snoozing away.  She was this powerful, amazing human, and why shouldn’t they get a chance to-

There was a gentle crash from beyond her bedroom door; Harry tensed.  It wasn’t loud enough to wake Aurora, but it was close enough to stir the auror in him to action.

He lifted his hand to accio his wand from wherever it lay in the room and felt the familiar warm wood glide into his open palm.  

Harry cast a silent leviosa beneath Aurora to gently lift her from his chest without waking her.  He slid from under her, lowered her back to the bed carefully, and moved through the bedroom toward her door.

***

Pru’s gentle fingers pushed through his thick curls, still falling around his face.  It was a dream, staring into her bright, violet eyes.  

Her cheeks were flushed, almost as red as her hair.  Teddy resisted the urge to run his lips across the gorgeous coloring of her skin - they were both trying desperately to catch their breath.  

The room was oddly silent, save for the ragged breathing still flooding the space around them.  Teddy was suspicious - he should be able to feel something from her, especially if what he’d just done to her wasn’t up to standard - there should be something .  

He’d grown accustomed to ignoring the emotions his empathic abilities allowed him access to, but in moments like these - when he was still sunk to the hilt in the most alluring and beguiling witch alive, he would much rather read her emotion than ask if he’d been sufficient .  

A light raspy sound bubbled up from her lips as she began to laugh.  

“You could just ask me, Theodore,” she whispered, lifting her fingers to run through his hair again.  A coy smile playing on her small, perfectly rounded lips.  

Teddy was torn between her touch and the odd way his real name sounded falling from her lips.  

“I-uh… I don’t-” he stuttered. 

Pru giggled, letting her legs loosen around his waist despite the fact he was beginning to grow hard again.  

“You always do things very well, darling.”  Pru lifted her face and slotted her lips gently across his.  “You always make me feel so good, Theodore,” she sighed into his mouth.

Teddy groaned, a desperate, primal sound, and lowered himself back down, laying his weight fully on top of her.  Gods, he loved this woman… 

She whimpered beneath him as he assaulted her lips, doing everything within his power to consume as much of her essence as he could.  Her legs were beginning to quiver from being spread for so long, but he didn’t want to move, not just yet .  

The sound of his given name falling from her beguiling lips sent him to a new level of adoration, and he was certain he would never come down.  The commanding, seductive quality of her voice and the gentle, loving caress of her touch.

I love you, Prudence Weasley… He wanted to tell her.  

He ached to tell her.

He felt her lips spread into a smile against his and a giggle escape.  “Teddy…” she whispered.  

He needed to relax.  He couldn’t move too fast; he couldn’t project his feelings onto her and misread the situation - not again.   But fucking hell, did the witch drive him mad.

Teddy softened his mouth, savoring one last swipe of his tongue across hers then pulled away.  

“You wouldn’t happen to be hungry, would you?”  He asked casually, forcing down the urge to profess his undying love to her.  

Her grin was slow, and she nodded, her lush red hair catching the soft light as she moved.  

He didn’t break his smile as he pried himself from her embrace.  

Be cool, be cool, be cool…  He chanted as he pulled on a pair of joggers and slipped from his room then down the stairs toward the kitchen.  He was high on a euphoria that seemed to cloud his mind as he moved through the cottage toward the kitchen.  He was breathless almost with the intensity of the sensation.  

It wasn’t surprising really, there were no words to describe how much he had missed Prudence and how excited he was to learn she’d missed him too.  

Teddy was gliding down the stairs when there was an unfortunate incident with one of Aurora’s baskets of yarn sitting at the base of the steps. 

The incident being he was completely stupefied by the abundance of both the excitement and satiated fog still clouding his mind that he stumbled over it and landed on his face in the middle of the living room.  

He jumped up from said embarrassing moment with a goofy grin still plastered across his face.  There was a witch in his bed that he’d been dreaming of for a year now and with any luck he’d never go that long without her again.

Prudence needed sustenance.  He needed to bring her something.  He needed to keep her here, in his bed…    

Teddy made it to the kitchen without any further attacks from baskets of yarn and the like.  He stood still, his fingers wrapped tightly around the handle of the ice box, when an ominous tension filled the pit of his stomach.  

It was strange; he normally only sensed that same tension in the presence of…

“Mother fucker,” he whispered, turning to look at Aurora’s bedroom door, where the emotion seemed to be emanating.   

The door was cracked slightly which left him no time to make an escape.  Disapparating was technically an option, but he was rather hungry, and he’d promised Prudence nourishment.  His mind stuttered at the image of her naked in his bed, waiting for him; he forgot he needed to disappear. 

When Harry emerged from Aurora’s room, wand at the ready, he was greeted by his godson - who seemed to be lost in thought with a dopey grin on his face.  

“Teddy?” Harry whispered in shocked irritation.  

Teddy’s mind cleared and as Harry moved closer toward him.  “What are you doing here?”  

Both men seemed to be sizing each other up, Teddy in less shock than Harry, but still surprised all the same.  

“I, uh, I live here…” Teddy said slowly.  He flicked his wrist and wandlessly levitated the fixings for sandwiches to the island at the center of the kitchen - his gaze never dropping Harry’s.  “What are you doing here?”  

There was far too much irony in his voice for Harry’s liking, and a fresh wave of nausea rose in his stomach.  

“Wait, what do you mean you live here?  I thought-” Harry backtracked, his mind not entirely focused on any one single thing and instead racing through the clouds about his current predicament.  

“Yeah…”  Teddy tried to sound nonchalant, but he could already see the concern beginning to fill Harry’s eyes.  That overwhelming sense of dread began to pool in Teddy’s stomach, and he took a deep breath.  He didn’t want to say anything to make Harry any more uncomfortable, but it was looming there between them and there was no way to avoid it.  

“Aurora lets me stay here when I’m in town. It’s easier than buying my own flat and maintaining it while I’m away on assignments.”  

Both men knew the other had a connection with Aurora, it went without saying.  But bringing her into the conversation shined a light on the eight-hundred-pound hippogriff in the room.   

Teddy knew there was something going on between them.

And now Harry knew that Teddy knew this as well…

It had only been vague before, in Nott’s office.  But not…-

Teddy felt Harry’s growing sense of dread and knew what it centered around - but didn’t quite understand to what extent.  So ever the loyal badger, he tried to offer Harry the assurance that it was most certainly nothing romantic or anything of the like that kept him here.  

It should have been obvious, Teddy thought, as Aurora was his cousin - well technically his second cousin, but there were wizarding families that still considered that distant enough relations in some circumstances.

“Oh, I didn’t think-” Harry began, wanting to assure Teddy that’s not where his mind had been.  But as he looked at the young wizard before him, he was unable to finish his thought.  It would mean that he was confirming, in a roundabout way, that there was in fact a romantic link between himself and Aurora and that was…

Panic.

Pure panic was bubbling to the surface and Teddy wasn’t sure what to do.  It wasn’t his panic - it was Harry’s and as much as the young man wanted to calm his godfather - it was unbelievably impossible.  

“Harry, it’s… it’s alright…”  Teddy took a tentative step toward him, not sure how to pacify the situation.  It wasn’t insecurity that was radiating off of Harry - but panic - just sheer panic.  

Harry took a step back, his hand flying to his bare chest as if his heart was going to pound right through his ribs.  

Had he really been thinking about what it might be like to wake up with her?  

To be with her?  

Harry looked longingly once more at the door he’d just emerged from, wishing with everything within him that he had a time turner.  He would go back to the moment before he’d decided to come out here and just stay there, just stay with Aurora - safe and warm in his arms, for as long as possible.  

Instead, he turned, not sparing Teddy a second glance and walked smoothly through the living room and out the front door.  There was a soft pop of apparition a few moments later and Teddy remained stunned in the same spot - unsure as to what had actually just happened.  

There was a creaking of the floorboards above him followed by soft footfalls descending the stairs.  Teddy looked up to Pru who stood in naught but his dress shirt.  It fell just to the tops of her thighs leaving the rest of her long legs bare.  His hunger for her turned into sadness, causing him to offer up a half-hearted smile.

“It was taking a while, then I heard voices,” her voice soothed the jagged edge of guilt settling in his chest.  “Is everything alright, darling?”  

Teddy waved his hand over the ingredients before him and watched as their sandwiches magically made themselves.  “I don’t think so,” he sighed heavily, staring at Aurora’s bedroom door.   

Pru moved from her spot on the stairs toward the purple haired man lost beneath the weight of everyone’s emotions.  He was facing the counter when she moved to his side, pressing her body against his muscled arm.  

She slid her soft fingers over his exposed skin, tracing the lines of his healed scars and burns, gently offering as much comfort as she could.  

“Do you want to talk about it?” She asked, leaning against his body, pressing her lips to his shoulder.  Teddy turned to look at the witch running her fingers slowly up his spine.  

He smiled, unable to sense her emotion and yet still somehow feeling hope swell within his chest.  

“I do,” he leaned over, planting a soft kiss on her forehead.  “But not now,” he said against her skin.  “Now, we eat,” his grin was infectious, easily setting down the mantle of whatever pain he was carrying to focus his attention entirely on her.

Prudence returned his smile, resting her chin on his shoulder, her violet eyes lost in his honey-colored gaze.  I love you, she thought, no longer afraid of her own feelings.  She decided, however, to hold that sentiment close to her heart and revisit it another day. 

***

At some point in the night the heavens decided to release the deluge they’d been holding hostage for the past several weeks. 

Aurora awoke to the onslaught of rain pelting down onto the roof of her cottage.  Her body was sufficiently tired and sore - having been thoroughly used the night before.  She stretched, savoring the strain in her legs and hips then running her hands across the bare skin of her belly and up between her breasts.  

A secret smile played upon her lips as she lifted her fingers to the sensitive skin there - blissfully lost in the memory of the assault that had been waged against them.  

She was vaguely aware that she was alone in her bed, but the emotions that had been, hours before, shared between her and Harry seemed to transcend everything at present.  

He’d been everywhere, for hours - worshiping her, fucking her, loving her… His scent seemed to linger on her skin, on her blankets… Aurora rolled onto her stomach and buried her face into her pillow, inhaling the thick aroma of her scent combined with his.  Fuck - she was never going to wash this pillowcase.  

After committing to memory the scent surrounding her, Aurora sat up in her bed - eager to begin her day.  

She had fallen asleep with the vague understanding that Harry probably wouldn’t be there in the morning, but that was okay.  Something had shifted between the two of them - something magnificent, and she couldn’t wait to begin this next phase of her life.  

The phase in which they (because there was a ‘they’ at this point - which made her giggle for a whole other set of reasons), but they would figure this out, together. 

Aurora strolled into her shower, hesitant to wash the remnants of the night away, but ultimately too excited to be concerned about savoring the pieces of Harry still clinging to her skin.  

She couldn’t recall the last time she felt so light, so optimistic.  Most of the time she’d felt heavy and nervous, almost jittery.  The magic within her was constantly churning - warring against her to find a way out, to find a conduit to be released from.   

But standing beneath the warm rush of water, cleaning her skin and letting the spray douse her unruly hair, Aurora felt peace - unimaginable peace.  

If that wasn’t proof of how well they fit together, then surely nothing would sway the odds to her favor. 

Aurora moved about her room, running through the spells that dried her hair and moisturized her skin.  She glanced at the vial of contraceptive potion sitting on her shelf, it wasn’t due to be taken for another week or so, but after last night she didn’t want to chance any surprises.  She downed a fresh one, the fizzing in her belly sending tiny shocks through her body.  

She wouldn’t consider the whole other side of that single action - there was no room to ponder babies and the like with him.  Aurora knew she had a tendency to run before she could walk, and she refused to do that.  She was going to be sensible.  

She was going to be the daughter of Hermione Granger and remain pragmatic and logical.  

Aurora smiled to her reflection; her silver curls piled atop her head in a chaotic sense of control.  Her skin glowed against the dreary light of day filling her room.  She ran her hand over the smooth skin of her throat, feeling her cheeks flush as she gazed at the series of love bites Harry had left behind.  

She’d found several while in the shower, covering the subtle slope of her breast, the soft curve of her hips, several more along the abundant flesh of her inner thighs… 

Mmm, yes - Harry Potter liked to mark his territory.  

Aurora lifted her wand to cast a glamour over the bites on her neck and did nothing to the others that would remain hidden beneath her clothes.  They were special to her - they were a part of him he’d left behind for her.  

Everyone else may not have understood - but that didn’t matter to her.  So, she would keep the visible ones a secret, but deep down, she would know - she would know who she belonged to.  

Aurora took a deep, calming breath and was surprised by the aroma of cooked sausage and fresh biscuits.  The excitement she’d been trying to stifle began to bubble within her anew.   

He’d made her breakfast?   Aurora pressed her cold fingers to her skin and released a shaky breath, trying to contain the energy coursing through her veins.  

He’d stayed and made her breakfast!  The thought was absolutely perfect in about a million different ways.  She didn’t want to hope for too much, knowing Harry was awfully careful about so many things that he did, so controlling the excitement was necessary.  

The one thing, however, that remained at the forefront of her mind, that seemed to spur on the frenzy of anticipation filling her body, was the simple fact he’d stayed. 

***

Looking back on the events of that morning, Teddy felt he could have been a bit more proactive when it came to certain things.  

Perhaps he could have insisted on breakfast in bed with Pru.  

Maybe leaving altogether might have been in his best interest.   

Hell, he could have even insisted that he set himself on fire as they causally roasted marshmallows over his burning corpse…

Anything, bloody anything, would have been better than how it actually went down.

It had begun quite nicely - a slow morning shag with the witch of his dreams.  The storm cocooned them in a lovely bubble of erotic hunger; he would never get enough of her.  Unfortunately, however, food was required again, so Teddy insisted he make her breakfast.  

“I don’t know,” she said, pulling her arms through one of his muggle t-shirts.  Teddy forced himself to pull his eyes away from the way ‘L E D Z E P P EL I N’ fell across her ample chest.   She wasn’t wearing a bra beneath his shirt and the perfect swell of her breasts was calling to him.

“Teddy,” she snapped, her voice light - knowing what he’d been fixating on.  “You don’t think it will be awkward?”  Teddy thought for a moment.  

He’d told Pru everything he’d witnessed and felt the few hours before - which was not really much to begin with.  But he knew his godfather and she knew Aurora.  They’d come to the conclusion that for the sake of all parties, it would be best to mind their own business.

“Oh, um…”  Teddy ran his hands through his hair, his curls falling back into place around his face.  “Honestly, she may not even be up right now, and if she is - Harry’s already gone.  As far as she was concerned, I was only privy to what happened in Theo’s office, yeah?”  He was doing an adequate job of convincing himself there would be no further issues.  

Pru seemed less convinced but followed his lead regardless.  

The pair were seated at the bar, enjoying an English breakfast, Teddy overly excited by the fact everything came out rather well, when normally he experienced mediocre reviews of said meal. 

They’d fallen into a comfortable silence, while the dreary light filtering through the curtains enclosed the two, once again, in their own bubble; the quiet holding them in an endless moment of domestic bliss.  Teddy was overcome with a sense of excitement and joy - the emotions swelling within his chest to the point he wanted to squeal with anticipation.  

He ignored the sensations, stupidly - he later thought.  Pru was finally in the same place as him and they were vibing quite nicely again - of course he was excited.  

Then Aurora emerged from her room…

The two looked up to her at the same time, the smile on her face faltering as she took in the scene before her.  

“What the hell is this?”  She asked, confusion clear on her face.   

Teddy looked between the witches, doing his best to differentiate their emotions.  There was nothing from Prudence, as usual.  But as his mind pushed toward his cousin, he realized the conflicting emotions were all emanating from her.  She was confused, surprised, very irritated, and something else he couldn’t make out; it was faint and convoluted.  

“Breakfast,” Pru deadpanned.  Teddy let out an anxious laugh at her sarcastic reply.  It was obvious that wasn’t what Aurora had been referring to, but Pru had given her friend the only answer she wanted to give. 

Aurora glared at him to which Teddy sobered instantly.

There was a frustrating energy that began rolling off of her in waves.  Teddy swallowed down the chewed biscuit in his mouth, the taste failing to register as all he could feel, all he could breathe was Aurora’s anger.  

She moved casually toward the kettle to pour herself a cup of tea.  Her movements were fluid and her steps were normal, but the air sizzled.  Teddy glanced at Pru - her eyes focused solely on Aurora’s back.

What felt like a lead weight dropped to the pit of his stomach as Aurora’s anger collided into her magic.  Yes, a wiser man would have made so many different decisions - but they’d passed a point of no return and there was nothing to do now but wait.  

Aurora did not make him wait long. 

“So, when did this start up again?” Aurora’s voice was cool as she turned to face the couple still seated at the bar.  

Pru noticed Teddy’s hand went stiff in hers.  She didn’t entirely appreciate the tone Aurora was taking, nor did she appreciate how it was setting Teddy on edge, but Aurora was always one to project her emotions instead of dealing with them - so Pru remained passive, choosing rather to see this situation from her perspective.  

Aurora had been expecting to see Harry, not her cousin and her best friend. She’d been planning to spend time with him, certainly, not watching another couple enjoying the simple pleasure of each other's company.  And though Prudence didn’t understand, at all, her best friend’s infatuation with her godfather, she was still going to give her the benefit of the doubt.  

Pru had been gone for the past year and there was a special connection between Aurora and Teddy - the animosity rolling off of her could be attributed to the fact things had not ended quite so well between her and Teddy last time.  

Pru swallowed down her guilt. 

“I suppose last night,” she responded smoothly before lifting her tea to her lips and taking a delicate sip.  

What she’d been meaning to imply was nonchalance, but that’s not what Aurora interpreted.  

“Very interesting,” his cousin murmured.  

Teddy loved Harry, he truly did… But as Aurora’s temper began to mount, he could have hexed the bastard into next week for what was coming.  Nothing was said between the two witches, but that didn’t matter.  

Aurora was burrowing deep into herself, into her magic - allowing it to wrap around her and shield her from the biting sting of something he couldn’t quite make out.  She was livid that Harry had left but, if it were possible, she was more upset by something else.  It wasn’t jealousy per say… at least - not entirely a jealous emotion.  Aurora’s temper was making it very difficult to differentiate between everything she was feeling.  

His abilities didn’t allow him to hear thoughts - just give him a very good sense of someone’s emotional state.  It came in handy quite often, but when dealing with people as complicated as his cousin - it was less so.  Her feelings were tied so tightly in with her thought processes that it was impossible for her to think something without feeling it as well.  She had always been this way.  It was both her greatest strength and her worst weakness - she was so intertwined with her emotions that if something were worth fighting for - Aurora would fight to the death.

But that also meant if something was worth fighting against - she would fight to the death. It wasn’t always rational, but therein lay the beauty and madness of Aurora Malfoy. 

Teddy didn’t want to feel any more - he didn’t want to hear anymore.  The air that was overwrought with Aurora’s emotions and the churn of her magic, doing its best to protect her.

Unfortunately, the more she felt, the more he sensed, and before too long her magic was twisting and shoving against his mind - recognizing his inadvertent invasion of her delicate state and determining that it was in her best interest to neutralize the perceived threat. 

“Aurora, please,” Teddy gasped, pushing the heel of his hands into his eyes - doing his best to stave off the tendrils of white-hot energy stabbing at his mind.  

Pru turned quickly to look at the man she felt so many things for, understanding his distress and where it was coming from.  

“That’s enough, Aurora,” Pru said in a calm voice, sliding her hands over Teddy’s shoulders, trying to soothe the pain she knew was settling in the back of his neck.  She was whispering quietly to him, her back turned to Aurora, doing whatever she could to help alleviate the stress in his body.  

Aurora felt a churning in her stomach, her magic snapping against Teddy’s empathic abilities.  The petty anger she’d been experiencing before seemed far too violent now, but there wasn’t room to stop it. The smooth surface of her magic, that had been pacified and was curled into a content ball purring at Harry’s feet, it was no longer able, or willing, to withstand the injustice of the moment.

So, despite the fact Aurora knew it was irrational to feel abandoned and misplaced, she couldn’t stop the raging inner turmoil of her emotions.  She couldn’t stop the part of her that wanted him.

Prudence can have her wizard, but you can’t have yours?  She heard it in the back of her mind as Pru continued trying to help Teddy bear the brunt of her oppressive, unstable power.  

It’s not fair - it’s not right.  

You love him.  He loves you.

He must…

Why does Pru get to have what she wants?  She left him and Teddy still loves her.  He’s still here.  He waited.  He would always wait… 

But Harry…

Harry always came for her - but he never stayed.  He would never stay.  He would never wait.  He would… 

He will never really see you.

“Please Aurora, stop,” Teddy’s broken voice muttered, his head felt like it was splitting beneath the weight of her magic and her pain.  

At the desperate sob in Teddy’s voice, Pru whirled around to Aurora, her hands still firmly on Teddy’s shoulders.  

“Out, Aurora!  Now!”  Her violet eyes were bright as the fire in the hearth burned hotter.  The candles in the room suddenly lit and began flickering violently throughout the house as a conjured wind began to whirl through the kitchen.  

Aurora pulled herself out of the fugue she’d descended into.   She looked at Teddy - hunched over the breakfast bar, grasping the sides of his head then met her friend's eyes.  

She didn’t mean it - she couldn’t mean to be hurting Teddy.  Not Teddy… But sometimes it was, it wasn’t containable… She- 

Aurora couldn’t-

“Go, Aurora.  Please, just go.  I’ve got him,” Pru said forcefully, a look of compassion filling her eyes, contrasting against the ferocity in her eyes.  This was all wrong - she... she wasn't trying to hurt him.  She was just... It was too much to -

“I’ve got him.”  Pru's voice was softer as she turned back to Teddy.

Aurora didn’t need permission to go, but still, she took it all the same. 

Flying through the kitchen and out the front door, she raced past the stone fence and beyond the clearing surrounding the cottage.  

The forest was dark but inviting.  Fat drops of rain fell through the canopy at odd intervals, but Aurora couldn’t notice.  

The ferocity of her magic was breaking through the remnants of whatever Harry Potter had done to her the night before - it was as if he’d poured Essence of Dittany directly on her frayed, damaged magic…  The part of her that was dangerous, it had been domesticated and pacified.  But now, she was isolated in the catastrophic flames licking through her body, ripping along the edges of her consciousness.  

Aurora continued rushing through the drab, wet woods in naught but a pair of sleeping shorts and a tank top.  The damp, dead leaves squelched beneath her bare feet and the smell of rain helped to soothe her mind.

She pushed through a few low hanging branches and past a boulder but missed her step and slid down a slight incline. It wasn’t sharp enough to send her cascading to her death, but enough to dispel the air from her lungs.  

Her body eventually stopped rolling and instead of moving to check her limbs or get back to her feet, she laid there, covered in mud.  There was a slight ache in the back of her head and her skin was numb to the cold wet seeping through her bare clothes.  

She was panting heavily, her breath coming out in visible puffs of air as she gazed up at the dreary sky, wondering why she was the way she was. 

Why was she so fucking volatile? Why couldn’t she control her emotions?  Her magic?  She hated being this way, having this unnecessary ability that she didn’t even fucking understand.  It made every aspect of her existence harder and it just…

It didn’t seem worth it.  

The only fucking  times she ever felt proud of her abilities were the moments in which she was doing her job - doing the things that mattered to her.  Her parents couldn’t understand… but Harry did.  He understood what it was like - to have the urge to constantly be moving.  He understood the burn, and the pressure that revolved around the simple action of just existing.  

Even Pru understood it; every child born under the marriage laws, to a certain extent, understood it.  The reestablished blood lines, and the magically aligned cores of their parents… It had resulted in many good things for the wizarding world.

But she didn’t fucking care about all that - she was just trying to survive.  Aurora was trying to pacify the growing power while living her life in the path of least resistance.  Until now, that had meant doing what felt right, regardless of the consequences.

There had never been any consequences - none that really mattered anyway.  

But lying there, in the cold rain, amongst the lifeless leaves and pine needles she pondered her ridiculous reaction to the events that had transpired only moments ago.  

There was a reason Teddy wasn’t supposed to try reading her.  She wasn’t in control of her abilities all of the time.  This destructive power within her always wreaked havoc, and invariably, she was left grappling for the best way to salvage what was left of her relationships.  

Aurora closed her eyes and did her best to become one with the Earth around her.  The steady rain had soaked through her clothes, yet she still could not feel the bite of the cold. 

She should just stay here.  

Here, numb and frozen, she was safe.

Chapter Text

There had never been any consequences - none that really mattered anyway. 

“Step one, remove the diseased or damaged tissue and any crushed bone.  Prepare the fibula for osteotomy.”  She hoped Teddy was ok… 

He hadn’t meant to read her, she was sure of that.  No, it was entirely her inability to control her emotions; her inability to control her magic.  

“Incise the entire circumference of the skin incision through the underlying fascia.  Direct the vertical incision over the anterior crest of the tibia.”  She focused on the process, the precision it would take.  “Must facilitate exposure of the anterior periosteal flap.”

“Step two, smooth out the uneven area of bone.  The patient should be unconscious prior to this part.”  

It wasn’t fair, these fucking abilities - they all had had to struggle to understand them, growing up.  It’s not like any of them asked for them - it had just happened.  

But they were certainly saddled with the consequences of them all the same.  

There had never been any consequences - none that really mattered. 

“With determination you must perform the cut to the fibula several centimeters distal to the tibia cut.  You must remember bone is thick and requires focused effort.”

“You can not be afraid when trying to cut through bone…”

Fucking Ministry.

“Step three,” Aurora whispered to herself.  The rain was still falling in a steady, calming rhythm and despite the fact she couldn’t feel her toes, she endeavored to remain exactly where she was, perfectly still and frozen.  “Seal off the blood vessels and nerves.  This is the most important step,” she squeezed her eyelids tighter forcing herself to recall each step, each detail, each moment.  “If not sealed properly the patient may experience further loss of function and feeling in remaining tissue.”

A tear slid down her cheek, mixing into the delicate stream of water dripping onto her skin from above.  The warmth of it was but a vapor, there one moment, then all too quickly consumed by the atmosphere around it. 

There had never been any real consequences. 

“Identify the superficial and deep peroneal nerves.  Place gentle - GENTLE traction and resect nerves using sharp dissection.  Sharply - with understanding and confidence - dissect through the anterior compartment musculature at the most proximal end of the wound.”

At some point, Aurora thought, perhaps she would learn to harness her magic - to make it obey her.  It would be nice to no longer hurt those closest to her.  It would be nice to not be afraid of this fucking ‘gift’.

What a ridiculous metaphor; referring to her power as a gift…

A gift you could return.  A gift you could decide to keep, or dispose of.  A gift was normally something you wanted to keep.  A gift was supposed to be given in free will.

None of these things were true of her ‘gift’.  She didn’t want it, she couldn’t dispose of it, it wasn’t something worth keeping and it most certainly hadn’t been bestowed upon her out of the kindness of someone’s heart.  

There had never been any consequences…. 

“Dissecting closely to the wound reduces bulk and makes the myodesis easier…”

No, she’d been the first one born under that fucking law, essentially making her the pygmy puff of this great experiment, marking the dawn of a new era, with her in the center of it all.

She fucking hated it.  

“Identify, isolate and ligate the anterior tibial artery,” the tears fell much more freely now, as the rain continued to pelt her skin and the soft patter of it falling around her worked to remind her of how useless her magic really was.  Her voice was faint, but she forced herself to finish it. 

“Dissect through the deep musculature.”

There had never been any consequences.  And if there had been, they hadn’t mattered… 

“Step four,” her voice cracked beneath the burden of everything she was supposed to be and everything she wasn’t.  “Cut and shape the muscle.  The end of the stump must be able to fit or attach to the artificial limb…”

There was more - there was a significant amount more but she couldn’t bring herself to recite it.  She couldn’t force herself to say anything else - her throat was clogged and everything she’d been ignoring.

Everything had worked out, technically.  The little creatures had been sent back to where they belonged, the MLE was none the wiser to her involvement.  

In a much more real sense, however, it couldn't have gone any worse.  And it was all her fault.  

You’re conveniently forgetting every other time you’ve played with mortality.  Aurora didn’t want to hear anymore - she didn’t want to think anymore.  She ran through the steps again in her mind, struggling to remember the next step in the intricate muggle procedure.  

“Step five…” she tightened her fist, ignoring the burning numbness in her fingers.  

Had  Harry been right?  Was she thoughtless?  

Careless?  

Aurora considered her father.  

She thought of the man who’d done everything in his power to make sure her life had been full of acceptance, patience, and love.  She thought of his endless love for her and her siblings… There was very little that Draco Malfoy would not do for his children.  

Aurora had never really considered her father’s love - but as she lay there trying to see it from an outsider's perspective… Was she thoughtless?  Was she spoiled?  Had she been living a sort of ‘la vie en rose’? Unable to see the world as it truly was? 

Impossible.  She wasn’t seeing life through rose colored glasses, not exactly.  More like shades of pink…

She stared into the overcast, gloomy sky thinking about her parents, thinking about Hogwarts, thinking about the long list of ridiculous things she’d done and it finally hit her.

There had always been consequences - she’d just simply ignored them.  

Aurora closed her eyes again - trying still to pacify her magic.  Her body could possibly go into some sort of shock from the cold and wet, but the energy within her was still gnashing its teeth - unwilling to be distracted and tempered down.  

Last night - asleep in Harry’s arms… It had been the first night she’d not seen their faces.  It had been the first night the raging turmoil within her simmered to a slow roasting pile of cinders. 

Ever since that fucking raid, in which nothing had gone to plan, all she’d seen when she closed her eyes was the abnormal way the wizard’s head had twisted to the side, his fingers still outstretched toward his wand.  Then there was the thick pipe, impaled through the witch’s chest.  The unseeing terror forever frozen on her face; her pupils blown wide in wonder and fear - all because of Aurora.  

What had she looked like to them?  The moment before she’d snapped his neck? Before she’d flown a steel pipe through her back and out her chest, with her magic? With her gifts ? Had she been fearsome?  Terrifying?  A harbinger of death?  Had they known the end had finally come for them?  Had they been ready?  

The thoughts plagued her.  The past three weeks, she’d barely left the cottage, barely had energy to follow through with the remainder of her job.  She still needed to debrief with Teddy and close the case out with Nott.  She still needed to tie up the loose ends…

But Aurora made no attempt to hide from the very real fact that this case - this was the one that changed everything.  

And not just in terms of whatever it was that had been building between her and Harry.

Instead of spending her time cleaning up the mess she’d made - she’d obsessed over the mistakes she’d made.  Aurora hadn’t been able to find out anything about the man, but the woman…  

The elegant, dark-skinned witch who’d conjured the billowing green flames - her name was Amara and was of the Amhara people in Ethiopia.  She’d been born to a strong tribe; a proud nation.  

Amara from Amhara.  

Muggleborn.

Magical people in that part of the world, Aurora had come to learn, didn’t have much access to wands - so they developed their magic wandlessly.  Much more powerful, but much more chaotic.  

As Aurora considered the flames Amara had been harnessing, she understood how one single witch could be that powerful.  All the magic it took to keep that place organized and efficient, to keep the creatures safe and protected…

It had all come from her.  She’d been the one behind the operation - brilliant and innovative.  Aurora wasn’t surprised. 

Her own mother was the exact same: powerful, smart, indescribably brave, unbearably bright… 

Amara from Amhara.

Could she have been the brightest witch from her country?  If the stories were all true of the English wizarding wars then there was nothing to suggest that other parts of the world hadn’t experienced their own civil wars.

Had Amara from Amhara had someone she loved?  Had she developed her power for a reason?  To protect her family?  Her people?

Amara from Amhara…  Beautiful, powerful, strong.

And Aurora had killed her.

Not the Ministry… Not Harry Potter… No.

She’d killed her.  She’d done it.  

Then…

Then she’d been so stupid and-

A sob ripped from her chest and she lifted her hands to cover her face, despite the fact she was utterly alone in the woods.  There was no one there to see her shame, to bear witness to her regret, and yet still she hid behind her cold fingers and wept.  

The air was too heavy and it was difficult to breathe but she couldn’t move.  Lying there on the ground, freezing, wet and covered in mud.

She shouldn’t have kissed him.  

She shouldn’t have tried to run away. 

Consequences…  

She shouldn’t have done a great many things that she’d done.  And it didn’t just span back a few weeks… No, she’d been hurting people since she graduated and …   

And Harry was right.  She hadn’t thought about anything.  She’d just killed two people and then kissed him and ran away - like a child.  Like an immature child with no regard for anyone - anything but herself.  

She was selfish. 

Aurora lowered her hands, and lifted her head slightly from the ground when a stream of warm air brushed against her bare toes.  Sitting demurely at her feet was the silvery-blue spectral image of a giant cat with tufted ears.  

It sat patiently watching her.  There were little sparks and pops of magic swirling around the elegant creature, but not once did it move or tear its gaze away.  

“I wish you wouldn’t…” Aurora whispered to the pensive animal, wishing it would disappear.  

“I know, honey,” came Pru’s voice from the dignified caracal.  

Aurora closed her eyes, and waited for the owner of the patronus to show up, before covering her face again in shame.

“Are you hurt?” She sounded unbelievably calm considering how heated the atmosphere had been - well…

How long ago did all of that happen?  How long had she been out here?

“Only where it matters,” Aurora mumbled, realizing too late how dramatic the words sounded coming from her lips.  

The very real, very warm presence of Pru descended upon Aurora and she couldn’t help but take a deep breath.  

Aurora stared up at her best friend who looked cozy, and dry in one of the thick sweaters her Grandmama Molly had knitted for Teddy this past Christmas.  Her hair was perfect, thick and fluffed around her symmetrical face.  The sweater fell to the middle of her thighs while the rest of her shapely legs were wrapped in a set of dark green tights.  Her feet were shod in a pair of old workman's boots, and Aurora felt irritated for a whole other set of reasons. 

“Are you fucking serious?” She said beneath her breath.

Pru’s cheeks lifted in a bright smile, and she rolled her eyes once before lowering herself to the ground beside Aurora's grimy, rain soaked body.

“I don’t look good at all,” Pru said defensively, knowing that’s what Aurora was grumbling about.  

Aurora noticed the honest glint in her eyes and felt bad for her oblivious, beautiful ginger friend. Just leave it to Prudence Weasley to make one of her grandmother’s knitted sweaters look sinful…

“Oh, you beautiful, amazing, fool,” Aurora said mockingly, causing Pru to beam at her - her eyes full of sisterly love.  

They were quiet for a moment, the rain continuing to fall all around them, but not on them.  Aurora pressed her lips in amusement.  

Pru’s abilities dealt heavily with natural elements, and as Aurora began to feel the slow crawl of dry air and heat coat her skin she was thankful that at least her gifts were worth something.  

“How far did you get?” Pru asked quietly.  Aurora wasn’t going to pretend she didn’t know what she was referring to.  

She swallowed down the guilt and answered without meeting Pru’s concerned gaze.  “Reshaping the muscle.”

Prudence was quiet for a moment, struggling to find the best way to move forward.  

There was a significant amount of information they’d yet to discuss and quite a bit of old wounds that this morning had drudged up.  

Pru knew Aurora.  She knew her best friend, her sister, in so many ways, and she knew that the violence within her was barely containable.  She was a loose canon, easily combustible, and traditionally Aurora didn’t handle emotions very well.  

She was a Gryffindor - through and through.  

“You know what I’m going to say, right?”  Pru said gently, guilt plaguing her mind as she scanned Aurora’s body.  

She was such a beautiful little thing.  Pru wished she could see herself clearly.  She was tall and aristocratic like her disgustingly handsome father, but her features - her nose and her fingers and all the little details that rounded out the rough edges - those came from her gorgeous mother.  

But lying there, in the mud, soaked to the bone… Her white curls were ratty and matted with twigs and dirt.  Her skin, which was already porcelain, was ghost-like and devoid of color.  She’d been out here too long.  

“I know,” she said firmly, never tearing her gaze away from the muted sky above.  “But it wouldn’t make a difference, you know…”

Pru remained quiet as she conjured the bits of heat from the atmosphere around them and extended a hand toward her sister.  

“Mmm,” Aurora moaned as Pru’s magic wrapped her in a protective layer of warmth.  The moisture coating her skin slowly evaporated leaving her clothes dry and the sensation returning to her limbs.  

“Your dad wouldn’t agree with you,” Pru said. 

Aurora turned to look at her, appreciating her loyalty. 

“Doesn’t matter though, does it?”  She turned her attention back to the sky.  “It was still my fault he was there in the first place.  Just trying to protect me…”  

She didn’t want to think about her dad.  She didn’t want to think about what he’d given up for her, to protect her.

‘ ...it’s a rather poor way of repaying that love...’  That’s what Harry had said to her.  

And he was right.  

He was right about all of it. 

“Doesn’t change the fact that your dad would have given up so much more if he needed to, you know that, Aurora.”

“Right, but he never should have needed to!”  She was shouting - but it wasn’t at her friend, it was at herself.  “He should still be an Auror, he should be a captain by now!  He should still have his leg, Pru!  He should still be able to walk and run and live a normal life without the phantom pains haunting him.  He should…”

Her voice failed her as Pru leaned over to wrap her soft hand around her bitterly cold one.  

“Your father loves you more than all of it,” her voice was determined and unwavering.  “I may not know much about the inner workings of your enigmatic father, but I do know, as a Slytherin, that the urge to protect oneself never fades away.”

The subtle increase in heat flooding Aurora’s body was not from her own endlessly boiling magic, but the surge of Pru’s surety.  

“Would you destroy one of your hands if it was used to hurt the other?”  Aurora remained quiet; Pru’s simple analogy was already taking hold in her mind.

“No,” she replied.

“No,” Pru concurred, the sincerity in her face pulling at the over abundance of emotion still flooding within her.  “Because it’s a part of you.  Just like you are a part of your father.”

Aurora didn’t want her to keep talking. She didn’t want to be made to see sense, because she was still a menace, she was still responsible.  

“Sometimes things happen: bad things, good things,” her tone softened as she thought about her own circumstances. “Unforeseeable things, amazing things, terrifying things…”   Pru took a steadying breath.  “Your father doesn’t see you as apart from him.  You are just an extension of him - you matter more to him than his own life; of this there is no question.  Whether you were in trouble or not - he wasn't going to hesitate.  Self-preservation includes you, darling.  

“You are a part of him.”

Tears began to flow down Aurora’s dry cheeks once more as she interlocked her fingers with Pru’s then lifted their joined hands to her chest.  Pru slid closer to her and used her other hand to run her fingers through Aurora’s wild curls.  

“I’m sorry for-”

“Stop that,” Pru said, gently but firmly halting the unnecessary apology.  She took a deep, calming breath, drawing in the serenity of the cold, clean air around them.  “There’s nothing you need to apologize for.” She said, smiling down at her best friend.  

“Teddy is alright; everything is alright.”

Aurora couldn’t help the smirk from invading her face as the tender moment between them gave way to something a bit less intense.  “And when were you planning on telling me that you two were shagging again?”

“Oh, for Merlin’s sake!”  Pru laughed out, dropping Aurora’s hand and rolling her eyes.

“I mean, I knew he’d been losing his shit since the moment you left, but come on, Weasley.  Not even twenty-four hours after you land, literally.  And already he’s blowing your back right the fuck out?”  

Prudence couldn’t help the intense shade of red taking over her face at Aurora’s severely damning, yet astute, observation.  

“Alright, Malfoy!”  She snapped - the smile in her voice tearing away the remnants of Aurora’s prior self-loathing.  “First of all, there was no blowing of backs out or any such nonsense.”

“Oh, so he’s no longer jackhammering into you until,” Aurora paused to tap her fingers against her lips as she feigned deep concentration, “and I quote ‘you can’t bloody walk straight’?”

“Aurora!” Pru hugged her arms around her waist as she collapsed forward, her face pressing into Aurora’s abdomen as raucous laughter overtook her.  

There was no room for self-deprecation as the two women continued on beneath the comforting rain storm surrounding them, never once feeling the effects of the bitter winds and chilling drops of water thanks to Pru’s abilities.  

Aurora eventually sat up, keeping Pru’s fingers intertwined with hers, giggling and talking about everything they’d been unable to discuss the night before.  

Everything was easy until a confused expression clouded Pru’s eyes, and she tightened her hand around Aurora’s.

“Can we talk about Uncle Harry?” 

Aurora groaned, trying to pull her hand from Pru’s, but being unable to shake the ginger off.  

“Can we not?”  She whined. 

Pru laughed.  “We must, darling.”

Aurora rolled her eyes.  “Only if we must,” she acquiesced.  “But you have to stop calling him ‘uncle’, he’s not even technically related to you.”

“It’s just habit at this point really, he is my godfather after all…”  

“No, I know… I suppose it just makes me feel a bit uncomfortable.”  Aurora shifted awkwardly.

“Well,” Pru said suggestively.  “What exactly is going on?”

“What did Teddy tell you?”

“Not much,” Pru leaned back against the tree.  “He said he ran into the two of you last night, in Theo’s office, and then when he went down last night to find food Harry came out of your room.  He said they spoke for a few moments then Harry left. He said he felt way too much for it to be something casual, but…”

Aurora took a deep breath - if there had been more Pru would have told her.  Aurora wasn’t sure if she was relieved or concerned that Teddy hadn’t said more.

“I honestly don’t know,” she whispered.  Her mind launched out into a thousand different directions - none of them pointing to an easy way to discuss this with her person.  

Pru waited patiently, the steady fall of rain comforting her.  

“I mean, there’s not much to say… What do you want to know?”  Pru took in Aurora’s hunched shoulders, and the way her fingers fidgeted with a pine cone she’d picked up.  “Where do I even begin?”

For someone so aggravatingly vibrant, Aurora was terribly insecure.  Pru moved closer, pulling her friend’s attention back to her.  

“Anywhere you’d like to is fine, darling.”  Pru smiled. 

“Well… I’m - I’m not sure when it started,”  Aurora said, eyes glazing over as she considered her feelings - something Pru was quite aware she rarely did.  

Aurora felt everything, yes, but Prudence knew she rarely, if ever, actually took the time to examine her feelings.  When she did, she tended to fall down a rabbit hole of everything she hadn't dealt with - everything she’d been repressing.

This hadn’t been the first time she’d found her best friend submerged beneath the weight of her feelings, almost catatonic, exposed to the elements, trying to fight her way through the barrage of emotions she’d been ignoring for far too long. 

“I think I’ve always had a thing for him, really.”  Aurora smiled to herself.

“Always?”  Pru couldn’t help the nausea roiling in her belly.  Aurora took in Pru’s look of disgust and laughed. 

“Not always always,” she said, wiping a stray tear from her eye.  “But you must understand your Harry and my Harry are two very different men.  Your Harry saw you grow up, was there at every birthday and … I suppose is like your actual Uncle, in all the ways that matter.”  Pru’s eyes softened at the image.  It was true - she’d grown up with him always there.  

There honestly was no difference between Uncle Harry and Uncle George or Uncle Charlie.  

“I mean, after mum married dad, I think she and Harry were still friends, but it was just different .”  Pru huffed out a laugh.  

“Oh, yes.  I know,” she chuckled.  “Dad still has issues with ‘that ferret faced tosser ’.”  Aurora let out a boisterous laugh at Pru’s impression of her father.  

“Oh gods , why do they call him that!?”  Aurora couldn’t stop laughing.  “Honestly, I’ve heard my mum call him that a few times when they fight or something and I never understand why.”  

Prudence laughed along with her friend, unsure of the story  behind it.  

“The first real memory I have of Harry Potter,” Aurora eventually sobered enough to consider Pru’s original question, “was right after,” she took a deep breath, steadying herself before she spoke.  “It was after the accident, at the muggle hospital.  Right after they had to,” her voice shook, prompting Pru to grab her hand and hold it tight.  “...right after they took him to surgery.”

Aurora remembered the day very clearly, remembered the screams of her father as they took him.  She remembered the silent tears on her mother’s face, the smell of burning flesh.  

“I don’t recall how long I sat there, waiting for someone to come get me.  I wasn’t a child though, I could have just left.  I don’t know why I was waiting really…  Then he was there.”

The color had returned to her cheeks, and her fingers were significantly warmer than they’d been before.  It would taste a lie if Pru said she didn’t notice a change in Aurora’s demeanor when her mind filled with Harry, all those years ago.  

“He didn’t say a word to me.  He just sat next to me, took my hand in his and waited with me.”  The air was cool around them, the rain coming down a bit harder now, but Pru’s magic remained perfectly in place - keeping them safe and dry.  

“I remember feeling uncomfortable at first.  This important man I’d written an essay about in DADA.  This man I’d only met a handful of times over the years.  This man that I wasn’t even sure knew my middle name….  

“And he just was there…”  Her eyes rounded, the heat in her body expanding as her mind raced back to that night, back to the muggle hospital and the fallout of her foray into dragon racing.

“I had been so sure my magic was going to eat me alive - the worry and stress and … I swear, Pru, I could still smell the dragon fire we’d been caught in.  It was fresh and destructive, and clinging to the air around me.  

“It was my fault, Prudence, and he… he just...  He held my hand - he didn’t say a single word - he just held my hand.”

Pru watched Aurora run her thumb over the back of her right hand, slowly and gently.  

“Then… I don’t know.”  Aurora looked up to her friend, fresh tears in her eyes.  “Then everything went wrong during this last mission and - I just, I don’t know…”

“It’s alright, darling… It’s ok,” Pru ran a hand over Aurora’s shoulders, and pulled her face towards her own, resting their foreheads together.  “Just take a breath.”

Aurora inhaled deeply then exhaled slowly.  Mr. Malfoy lost his leg a little over five years ago, which meant Aurora had been harboring these… feelings for five years now.

For Harry.

“I had planned out the mission.”  Aurora spoke, her voice no longer holding the cadence of a sweet memory.  It was harsh and unforgiving now.  She was in the present , she was talking about her last mission.  

“You know how meticulous I am about my assignments now.  After what happened to my dad I-”  She stopped herself.  Pru did her best to smooth the tension out of her hands.  “I obtained the intel from Freddy, like I always do.  I mapped out the region and located the creatures.  I infiltrated the encampment and I was prepared.  There was a slight hiccup when they discovered me, but it was ok - I had accounted for that possibility.  I had it all under control…”

Pru waited for her to continue - already feeling uneasy.  She didn’t know exactly how Aurora’s jobs worked - but she knew enough to know being caught was not a ‘ slight hiccup’.

“I had the contingency mapped out, I had the entire fucking thing outlined…” she said more to herself, trying to convince herself, still, that she’d known what was best.  The longer she spoke, however, the more Pru realized there was probably much more to this than even Aurora realized.  “But stupid, fucking Nott, he-  I-I…”  Aurora rolled her eyes in obvious irritation.  “I don’t know what he was thinking!  I’m sure you can imagine my surprise when Saint Potter showed up, all glorious and heroic, when he wasn’t even supposed to be there!  I’d had everything under control,” she whispered.  “He wasn’t supposed to have been there…”

It was quiet for a moment, Aurora rolling through the entire ordeal again in her mind.  Pru shifted to sit on her bum before pulling her legs to her chest.  

She rested her chin on her knees and traced a circle on the inside of Aurora’s wrist.  

“Go on,” Pru encouraged, waiting patiently for her friend to sort out her thoughts before telling her how exactly she’d finally realized she was in love with Harry Potter.

***

Master hadn’t moved. 

It had been almost six hours since he’d Apparated back and he hadn’t moved.  

He’d startled Kreacher very early this morning.  The little elf, hunched with age, was tending to the flowers, the way Mistress Astoria had once instructed.

Such a lovely mistress she was; so well mannered and elegant.  Kreacher did not have many attachments to the long line of Masters and Mistresses he’d served.  Mistress Walburga would always be dear to old Kreacher, but Mistress Astoria…

She was peculiar, indeed.   

Kreacher was carefully pruning, and tending to her roses, and hadn’t been prepared to receive Master Harry that early in the morning, nor had he been sure of what to make of Master’s attire.  He’d left that evening in his formal green robes, and arrived back in only his trousers.  

And though it was abundantly clear that Master needed assistance, Kreacher was unable to aid him as Master would not speak to him.  

‘This is very important, dear Kreacher,’ Mistress Astoria had told him once, long ago .  ‘If Master ever disappears into himself, you must get help.  He will not ask you to, but I would implore you to follow this request.  For me, please.’

It was the last thing his Mistress had asked of him, and Kreacher, ever devoted to Mistress Potter, had kept his word.  

Several times the poor elf thought to call for Miss Jaymes, but of the limited orders Master had given him over the years, the one he’d most fervently insisted upon was to never summon the young miss should Master Potter ever seem to be in distress.  

So Kreacher, obedient and true to his Master and Mistress, did not call upon Miss Jaymes.

He called upon the only other person he could think of - someone who knew Master well and was a descendant from the Noble House of Black.

***

Teddy wasn’t sure what the little elf had meant by, “his presence was most sorely needed at Twelve Grimmauld.”  

He couldn’t imagine that Harry actually wanted to see him, but once the calming draught had settled the searing pain in his mind following Aurora’s burst of emotion, he was intrigued.  

What he had not been prepared for, however, was the overwhelming sense of grief hovering like a cloud above his godfather - the air so heavy and thick with emotion that Teddy could hardly exit the floo without feeling the crushing weight.

It wasn’t as violent as Aurora’s, but it was certainly similar.  Instead of being attacked by an innate magical core, he was pulled into the web of despair.  

He moved slowly through the halls, toward the epicenter of anxiety.  

After Pru had left to find Aurora, Teddy had spent the next hour or so building his walls.  He’d never much cared for occlumency - preferring instead to allow his magic to roam free. Occlumency tended to make him feel as if he were stuck in an arresto momentum: groggy, desensitized and listless.

It wasn’t until he and Pru became romantically involved that his relationship with his cousin blossomed.  Her magic was abrasive, and didn’t care to feel invasion of any sort.  Teddy never knowingly slipped into Aurora’s thoughts or invaded her emotions, but she didn’t have control of her magic.  

So occlumency, Granny Andy had taught him, was a valuable tool when needing to keep people out, but it also helped to keep him in.  

Teddy focused on his walls, focused on the smooth, marble structure of them and the weight of them.  They erected slowly, blocking in his magic, preserving his peace, and soon the anxiety filling the halls of his godfather’s home was less oppressive.  

Kreacher stood at the base of the stairs that led to the main parlor where Teddy could feel the current of confusion and distress swirling.  He rounded the corner and walked past the elder elf.  

The fresh, pure scent of roses enveloped him, distorting the oppressive atmosphere around him.  The scent filled his mind with memories of Astoria Potter and the many summers he spent here, growing up.  

“Where is Jaymes?” Teddy turned toward the elf still standing at the end of the stairs.

“The young miss stayed the evening with her Aunt, sir.”  

“Thank you, Kreacher,” Teddy said, turning his attention back to Harry.  He was lying on his back in the middle of the floor, staring up into the wainscoting of the ceiling.  He looked detached and comatose.

Had Teddy been anyone else, it would appear Harry was dissociating entirely from this moment - but that was not the case.  Teddy could feel how utterly engrossed in this situation he was, and it was possibly the first time he was concerned for his godfather.

The young wizard wasn’t entirely sure how to approach him; he was out of his depth.  The last time Kreacher had called him, when Harry was like this, had been following a particularly dangerous mission.  

The mission had claimed the life of Seamus Finnegan, his partner.  Teddy knew they'd been friends since Hogwarts.  It wasn't too long after that Harry had decided to step down from Active Duty.  

Teddy had known what to say then, he too had been through something similar.  But this? What he was dealing with now?  Teddy had not a single clue how to speak to him.  

He was vastly under qualified to discuss the romantic feelings (or whatever the hell it was going on) that may or may not exist between his cousin and his godfather.  

“I’m fine, Ted,” Harry whispered.  “I’m sorry Kreacher disturbed you, but I’m alright.”

Teddy swallowed down his uncertainty.  “Oh, very good,” he tried to sound nonchalant.  “I’m sure you haven’t been lying in the same position for the past seven hours now.  And I’m certain you haven’t been thinking of all the ways you’re ruining the lives of every single person around you…”

Harry pushed himself up onto his elbows, the fringe of his hair falling over his forehead, hiding the famous scar.  

“Of course, it’s true, you know.  I’m sure I’d have the agreement of everyone we cumulatively know.  Congratulations, Potter, you have indeed ruined my life and Ron’s and Luna’s, and all their children.  Then there’s the Longbottoms, and your sister and brother in law, all their children.  Zabini and Padma, for sure you’ve ruined their lives.  Oh!  And we mustn’t forget The Notts, Theo and Ginny, Freddy and Theodora, Jasper, Arthur and Everett.  Oh, and little Ruby, who’s not even enrolled in Hogwarts yet.  You have without a doubt ruined her entire life.”  

There was a beat of silence in which Harry remained completely impassive and silent.  Teddy felt the air around them shift from despair and self-degradation to irritation and aridity.  

“How very much like your mother, you are,” Harry said - his voice sardonic.  “It is quite irritating,” he murmured as he lowered himself back to the ground. 

Teddy smiled and moved to sit on the edge of the sofa occupying the space beside Harry.  He was still reclined on the ground, with no clear indication he was going to move anytime soon.

“Yeah, but you like me better this way.  It simply would not do, were I to mope about, weeping and feeling sorry for myself, surely that would become rather boring, don’t you think?”  Harry was back to staring silently at the ceiling.  

“Besides, I’m not sure you’ve left any melancholy for the rest of us…”

“My god, Ted,”  Harry slipped his fingers beneath his glasses and pressed them firmly into his eyes in exasperation.  “What do you need?  What can you possibly need?”

“I need you to quit acting like a bitch, and tell me what the fuck is going on, Potter.”

Harry shot up into a sitting position, the shock of Teddy’s words evident in the instant rage that replaced all the other emotions he’d been drowning beneath before.  

Teddy’s mischievous smile widened, causing Harry’s anger to subside.  

“Kreacher,” Teddy called for the elf, which he knew was still hovering by the stairs.  

“Yes, sir?”

“Would you mind bringing Master Harry here a calming draught and a biscuit or two?”  

The elf twisted away to get the items he’d requested, and Harry stood only to lower himself back down onto the coffee table across from Teddy.  He pulled his glasses off, grinding the heel of his hand against his eyes again.

Teddy was safe behind his walls, cut off from the aroma of his emotions swirling in the air, but still Teddy was able to sense the heaviness of Harry’s anguish.  

“Come on, Potter,”  Teddy leaned forward to pat Harry’s shoulder, trying to sound lighthearted.  “Surely it’s not that bad…”

Harry let out a significant almost bitter laugh, the sound of which was clipped and too loud.  “I sincerely wish that were true, Ted.”  He pulled his glasses back on, settling his green gaze back on the young wizard.  “Merlin, I wish that were true.”

Chapter Text

The rain continued to fall while the wind continued to rage in a sweet sort of temperament. Aurora was less inclined to allow the distress from earlier to slip back into her mind. 

It was glaringly clear things needed to change, but burying herself within the past, and all the imbecilic decisions she’d made…  

Prudence was right , it was what she did now - what she chose now that would matter.  

Aurora wanted to choose a mature sensibility.  She wanted to make her life better by choosing to rise above the extremes her magic pushed her to - but she also… 

She also wanted to choose Harry.   

Aurora shook her head - that vein of thought wasn’t going to help anything right now.  Despite how difficult it was to try and control this desperate hunger to find him, and either discuss to death the events of last night or proceed to round two.  

Aurora’s eyes glazed over as the rapid succession of images filled her head.  

Harry still clothed in his regal robes, gasping as she swallowed as much of him as she could. Harry beneath her, eyes wide, mouth agape as she rode him.   His hands, mmm, his fucking hands - everywhere. 

She couldn’t afford to dwell on those thoughts right now.

Aurora cleared her throat and looked back at the plate Pru had sat before her.  

Ever the maternal one, she’d seen Aurora back to the cottage and settled her with lunch before leaving for her parent’s.  Her siblings would be returning back to Hogwarts in a few short weeks, and they hadn’t seen Pru in almost a year.  

Aurora wasn’t ready to be alone with Teddy, she wasn’t sure how to broach the subject of her episode .  She needed to apologize to him and make sure she hadn’t…

Well, she wasn’t entirely sure.  

She knew she’d hurt him, but it hadn’t been intentional.

Oh, that makes it so much better, doesn’t it?  ‘I’m sorry for attacking you with my magic, I’m sorry for hurting you.  It wasn’t on purpose though, so we’re good, right?’

Ridiculous.  

Fortunately, however, Teddy was notably absent when she’d returned.   

Aurora finished her meal, not really tasting any of it; her mind too busy rebelling against the direction she was trying to urge it into.  

The fire still burned warm, filling the family room.  Aurora gazed at the flames, remembering the image of Harry - gliding through them, green light distorting the color of his skin as he materialized the night before; a cloud of heat and smoke billowing around him.

The tug in her lower abdomen, what she’d come to recognize as her magic, roiled - longing for him.

She swallowed down the need and rose from her perch at the bar, ignoring the delicious ache in her thighs and the perfect tension lingering in her arms.  The distinct memory of Harry leaning over her as she clung to him with every fiber of her strength.

It really wasn’t difficult to imagine his presence here, even now.  

Aurora moved toward the sitting room she used as an office, but hesitated another moment, surveying her home.  

It had been a safehouse during the war, her mum had told her once.  When the war was over, most of the homes and manors were inhospitable due to either Ministry investigations or reconstruction, thus the newly wedded Malfoys were offered the Cottage at Hemlock Grove.  

They’d lived here during the first year of their assigned marriage.

“It’s where I fell in love with her,” her father had said many times when asked about the intimate setting.  “It’s where I fell in love with her, and where she learned to tolerate me,” he would always smile wistfully at his wife.  Her mum would then roll her eyes before planting a chaste kiss at the corner of his cheek.   

Aurora knew there was much more to this place than either of them let on.  

The walls, her mum had painted a soft grey, were still the same, as well as the black and white trim on all the windows and doors.  The hearth was still the centerpiece of the room; boasting a spectacular mix of onyx and graphite stone running from floor to ceiling.  

But nothing else remained original to the way her parents designed it.  

There were so many trinkets and keepsakes from all the different places she’d traveled; odds and ends from the numerous missions and jobs she’d taken.  The walls were covered in her own memories.  The furniture scattered about the large sitting room reflected the hodge-podge way she lived her life.  It was chaos and probably too much, but to her it was beautiful.  

To her it made perfect sense.

Aurora’s mind drifted to Harry – remembering him standing there, filling up all the available space - his presence larger than life.   He looked so perfect among her things, among her odds and ends, among her treasures.

Clearing the thought away, she moved again toward her office; she glanced at the walls, perfectly blank and boring.   Once she stepped into the room, however, the charms she’d created to recognize her magical signature dissolved, revealing the true nature of her office.  

The room had been magically expanded to include two large worktables, one for brewing and one for scrying.  In the center of the room, against the back wall sat her desk, loaded down with files and case notes she’d yet to complete.  

The natural light from the windows were most appreciated when the sky was clear and full of sunlight.  There was, however, a different appreciation for the darkened sky and grey, cold light currently spilling through the glass.  

The walls - the walls were what made this room a literal goldmine of information.  They were absolutely covered in maps and photos and endless notes.  The gloomy light threw the documents on the walls into a certain contrast that made her feel proud.  Not of any one moment - not of any one job, but of them all.  

But standing there, after the events of the past twenty-four hours, it wasn’t pride she felt when she surveyed this room.  

She considered the table she used for scrying. The hours she’d spent hunched over maps and charts searching for lost magical objects… The murky crystal sat ominous and inviting - waiting for her.  

Waiting for her to use her magic to amplify its dark qualities and guide her to the lost magic she searched for.  

She glanced at her brewing station - certain that if her mother saw it, she would faint from the residual fumes alone.  

How much time had she spent here?  In this room?  Tapping into the festering turmoil  of magic constantly churning within her…?  

A sensible witch would not be so flippant with her magic… She wouldn’t play with dark artifacts and twine her magic with long forgotten (and most likely forbidden) potion recipes - all in the name of self-interest.  

Was that not what this room represented?   Her own selfish need to quiet the frenzy of energy coursing through her veins. 

Aurora shook off the unease and took a seat at her messy desk.  She leaned back into the cushion of her chair, pulled one leg up to rest between her body and the edge of her desk and took a deep breath.

She spared one last glance out the window, wondering what Harry was doing; hoping he was ok, hoping she’d be able to see him again soon, but ultimately settling on Pru’s advice.  

“Give him a moment to figure himself out,” she’d said.  “After everything you’ve told me - sounds like he’ll need to … recalibrate.” 

It was sensible - a trait she knew her mother wished she would utilize much more than she did.  A concept she, herself, wished she was able to apply more liberally to her own life.   

Aurora had never been very good at being ‘sensible’.  She was smart and sometimes patient.  She was fairly decent at being long-suffering… But sensible?   

A sensible witch wouldn’t chase danger and intrigue to pacify her magic.  

A sensible person wouldn’t over react to her cousin and her best friend eating breakfast together.  

A sensible woman wouldn’t sleep with the man she loved without giving him a chance to understand the depths of her feelings.  

She was not sensible.  She was nowhere in the vicinity of sensible.  

Aurora had gone about this all wrong and now?

Now, if she wanted to have a fool’s chance of keeping him, she must embrace this quality that had for so long eluded her.

Aurora slipped her glasses on and leaned forward to start up the muggle laptop sitting at the corner of her desk.  There was plenty of work needing to be done, and she could do that.  She could focus all her energy on the things she could properly control, as Harry Potter was most definitely not one of them.

She lost track of time.  

She’d stopped wondering when she might see him again and eventually allowed herself to be thoroughly intoxicated by her job. 

There were a few reports she’d yet to review.  She didn’t want to focus on the most recent job just yet - so instead she read through the smaller cases she’d yet to sign off on.  There were a few other firms she worked for - much less lucrative (and by extension much less dangerous) than Mr. Zabini’s firm, but still enjoyable.  

Aurora powered through them at a steady rate, then after an hour of submissions and a glance through her muggle contacts to make sure she hadn’t missed anything on that end, she realized she could put it off no longer.

Aurora spent the next two hours reading through the Gorgon File, doing her level best to understand it.  

It looked to be complete, but none of her notes had been attached, nor had there been any mention of the actual events that led to Harry’s involvement or what ultimately happened to the remainder of the creatures trapped there.  She knew the Beast Division of the MLE had stepped in to assist, but for the information to be so carefully concealed in the report was very odd.

Even the attached images were blurred or misleading.

Nothing was legible, nothing made sense.    

In the weeks since the raid, Aurora had looked at the file a grand total of three times (this being the third), both to ascertain what happened to the bodies she’d left in her wake and to see how Harry handled the mess she’d made.

Her mum had been useless in getting any actual information from him last night, and when she’d had the opportunity to find out herself - well - she’d been useless as well…  Aurora’s cheeks reddened.

Regardless, however, the case hadn’t been ready for her to finalize before.  That’s how these files worked.  They were charmed versions of the original file that remained with the agency while consultants, such as herself, received a duplicate.  

Once a case was completed, the file would update itself and allow the consultant on the case to adjust or correct anything that was in error.  The file would magically alert the firm's analyst that it needed to be corrected, addendums would be made and once approved, the consultant would receive the final version to complete. 

Aurora should have looked at the file sooner - but she’d been too embarrassed.  The mission had technically been a success - the client received their package, and at the end of the day - that was a job well done. 

But it had not gone according to plan.

Not only could she not see how the case had been completed or the details therein, but she could not determine how her involvement had been documented.  

It had been sealed…

The Gorgon File had been sealed.

They’d finalized the case without any of her input. She had a fairly decent idea as to why… but she was stubborn enough to need to know the reason for herself.  

Aurora spent a significant amount of time casting and recasting  a set of delineation spells to get around the seals.  It was clear the case was closed, but she needed to understand. She’d been the lead on this case - how was she locked out of its finalization?

After an embarrassing amount of time she was finally able to remove a single seal from one of the images and a paragraph beside it. 

-– Amara Ibeh / Age: 32 / Country of Origin: Ethiopia / Muggleborn - Official cause of death: organ rupture. Detective Potter of DMLE’s Special Division corroborated events and finalized timeline.  Unknowns confirmed as hostile.  Deadly force assessed and confirmed to be of accidental nature.  Twenty-nine witches and wizards counted - two fatalities. 

0 Unforgivables detected. 

Detective Potter interviewed and provided adequate… —

Aurora stared at the unforgiving font, forcing herself to breathe slowly, in through her nose and out through her mouth.  There was no room for emotion or feeling in this line of work -  it was cut and dry.  Obtain the item or artifact - do so without causing a scene.  Be careful, be quiet, be invisible, be untouchable.  

A small chirping sound pinged on her computer, pulling Aurora from the conflict of emotions building within her chest.  She tentatively reached out to accept the incoming call. 

“What are you doing?”  Freddy’s voice was stern, his shrewd green eyes full of distrust.  Aurora casually leaned over the desk, obscuring the file from his view to level him with an equally shrewd look of her own.

No words were exchanged between the two.  Each party silently sizing up the other - each with their own arsenal of accusations stored up, ready to be launched.  But the question remained, who was to break first?

She knew he would have been alerted when she began tampering with the file, but she wasn’t afraid of little Freddy Nott - no matter how important he thought himself to be.  He was a glorified secretary, the analytical and logistics coordinator for Mr. Zabini, a pawn with too much power.

Aurora met his disinterested gaze with a passive aggressive smirk she’d learned from her parents..    

“They’re sealed for a reason, Aurora.”  He ran a hand through his buoyant, chocolatey curls before straightening the thick, black frames on his face.  “I just need your signature; that’s all.”  The velvety cadence of his posh voice scraped against her nerves.

Aurora stared at him - her muscles tensing in the presence of everything not being said.  

“Oh, is that so?” 

Freddy remained impassive to her sarcasm which only served to irritate her further.  

Once again, Aurora felt herself falling into a dramatic reaction that was unwarranted, but she was only human.  

Be sensible about this.  Be rational.  Be pragmatic.

Aurora took a deep breath, pulling on the reins of her emotions.  

“I can’t sign something which I haven’t been able to thoroughly review.”  Aurora congratulated herself - that was very professional and plausible.  

Fred didn’t appear to be convinced.  He pursed his thin lips and somehow looked much older than he was.  

“You’ve had the file for three weeks , Aurora.  You and I both know this one didn’t go according to plan - you haven’t signed off of the documents not because you can’t review it, but because you’ve been too afraid to look at it.  I’d wager this is the first time you’ve actually opened the file since receiving it.”

“Well you can fuck right off, Frederick , because this isn’t the first time I’ve opened the file.”  This was the third time she’d opened it. “And I have been unable to edit or addendum the forms, therefore signing my name as lead on a case in which I do not know the finalized details seems a bit irresponsible, wouldn’t you agree?”  

“Aurora, I’m sure you’ve realized by now that this is no longer considered ‘your’ case.”

She took a deep breath quieting the urge to verbally assault him - knowing that would accomplish nothing, and instead changed tactics.  

“Why did you call my parents, Fred?”

The first kink in his impassivity showed when he tilted his head in response to the sudden shift in topics.

“I mean,” Aurora flipped a page, running a finger over where her notes should have been.  “I had requested six days to locate, infiltrate and acquire the creatures.”  Her estimated timeline had been a tad narrow causing her delivery to be … unorthodox , but it had all been there. And she’d never missed a deadline before “Six!”

Aurora looked to Nott, waiting for a reaction.  

He remained quiet. 

“I even requested for official assistance to be sent only after the seven day checkpoint.”

“Aurora…” Freddy’s voice was placating, but she missed the genuine confusion in his gaze.

“Why did you send the missive to my parents , Fred? Because that’s when this entire thing went tits up.”

“I didn’t-”

“When have I ever not fulfilled my assignments?”  Aurora was doing her best, controlling her anger, pushing to the back of her mind - but the image of her father trapped beneath burning rubble took her breath away..  “And my dad, Fred?  Come on!  My dad ?”

Was she to blame if her temper flared at his ignorance?  He should have known how unhinged her father would become.  After all the years they’d spent  growing up together?  Freddy knew how intense her father was - as his own father was equally overbearing when it came to his children.  

“That’s not exactly-”

“...because I truly don’t understand why you would be so deliberately dismissive of my judgment.   I had specifically designated a particular section of the MLE that would be able to assist, should assistance even be needed.”  Her argument was valid, her feelings on the matter were valid, unfortunately however the rational side of her thought process could not see beyond the last time her father had come for her. 

She could feel the flames on her skin, her father’s piercing screams for her to run… Aurora cleared the memory away.

“You know my father wouldn’t have been able to do anything.  He’s a civilian now!”  Aurora’s skin began to burn as her anger breathed to life.  “And since he couldn’t get to me, he…”  Aurora hesitated - Fred didn’t know how close Harry was to this.  Harry was still just a liaison to the DMLE, right?  She cleared her throat.  “What would have happened had he come after me?  Did you even consider how reckless it was?  To involve my father?  You’re supposed to be smarter than that!  What kind of backlash would Mr. Zabini face if-”

“You were dark for thirteen days, Aurora…”  Frederick’s voice was firm, slicing through her temper like a perfectly cast diffindo.  “You were inaccessible for nearly a fortnight! A week past your original timeline and five days past the agency’s protocols.”  

Aurora jerked at his words.  

What?  

That wasn’t possible…   

“Your physical trace was no longer active and the personal trace, you know the one that emanates from your blood?  It would not respond to my call.  The very last coordinate I could find was over two hundred kilometers from where you were supposed to be!  I did follow the protocols you requested.” His voice was dangerously severe.  “I reached out to Aimes at the MLE; she couldn’t find you.  The magic cloaking you was too powerful.”

With everything Aurora had learned since, that did make sense.  But still - it couldn’t have been…

“I had no way of figuring out where you were or if you were even still…” his voice was softer, unmasking the depth of his fear.  He cleared his throat, a trait she recognized as Uncle Theo’s - he was trying to quell the rising emotion. “I couldn’t find you,” he focused his attention on something else.  

Aurora’s brows knit together in guilt, as she looked back down at the file.  Freddy let out a heavy sign and reached for something on his desk.  She couldn’t see what he did to the file in front of him, but whatever he did resulted in the wards on hers disappearing. 

He was showing her - he was granting her access. 

The moment her eyes dropped to the pages, she regretted it.  

The air was stifling around her as she looked from page to page - detailing the very real and destructive nature of this case. 

The tension in her jaw subsided as her heart sank. 

“I tried, Aurora,” Freddy spoke slowly.  “I had to inform the director, and… He…” his voice faded as she devoured the new information in her hands. 

According to the timeline, Freddy had reached out to the field office Auror first who had been unable to locate her based on the last coordinates she’d provided.  The Auror noted her last location was, “barren and devoid of any trace magic.”   They then viewed the area her personal trace had last been active and documented it also held no lingering magical signatures of any kind.  

Freddy had tried - just as he said he did.  He’d done his best to follow her directions to the ‘T’, but the case had reached a critical point.  Critical issues went to the director.

Mr. Zabini.

Aurora’s heart sank.  

If this had been any of the other agencies she worked for, the director would have submitted the case to the agency’s contracted cursebreaker.  Only a cursebreaker would theoretically be able to locate the missing witch or wizard.

But this wasn’t any other agency.  This was Blaise Zabini’s agency; one of her father’s closest friends.

He’d confirmed the extenuating circumstances present would not be resolvable before the window to locate her closed.  Aurora traced the meticulous penmanship of her father’s friend; of the man she’d known since she was a child. 

‘Agent carries a significant magical signature, highly complex in tracking but able to be done.  Resources needed are unavailable. Covert means of removal unavailable. Not clear if the agent has compromised or worse. 

She ran her fingers over the last line.  

‘Immediate extraction recommended and underway .  No need for further assistance from DMLE or Gringott’s cursebreaker division.’   

Mr. Zabini didn’t alert the DMLE that she was a missing person nor did he contact their contracted cursebreaker.  Both options were viable and were what should have happened.  When cases like these reached a certain point, the final determination was signed off by one of the directors and sent to the DMLE as a missing person’s inquiry.  Those requests were public and damaging in more ways than one.

Instead, however, her bloody boss had contacted her father. Breaking every protocol in place for these types of emergencies, and for what reason?  

It could have been to avoid any unwanted, negative publicity.  Merlin knew Aurora had already faced her fair share of unwanted public attention - but something told her this was not the case.  

It was because she was Draco Malfoy’s daughter.

It was because Zabini was loyal to her dad, thus his ability to remain neutral and indifferent toward her was compromised.    

Perhaps it had been compromised from the start…

Is that why she was able to even work for Zabini?  Was she just a favor?  Was she just the benefactor of nepotism?

Her throat tightened as she considered all those pesky shades of pink surrounding her life - blinding her to the very real privilege she’d been afforded and taking advantage of.  

Aurora squeezed her eyes shut against the shame enclosing around her.

She’d been so preoccupied with being caught, with Harry, with that kiss … She was so fucking stupid.  

Was this the first time he had done this?  

Aurora turned to look at her walls, covered in her past case notes and evidence trails… How many times had her boss intervened on her father’s behalf?  How many times had he called on daddy to come to the rescue?  How many fucking times had she been pulled out of dangerous, life threatening situations, all because she was her father’s daughter?

It wasn’t anger she felt at the thought of such a betrayal… 

It felt more like a giant snake coiling tight around her, squeezing her, suffocating her.  

It was her magic she spent her life trying to pacify by pushing herself to her limit.  

Her magic, her life, her limits.

Me, me, me, me, me.

Selfish cow…

“I’m so sorry Fred,” Aurora whispered.  Trying to stifle the groan of conviction clawing its way through her chest.  The world suddenly felt much smaller than it had moments before.

Then there was Harry.  

She thought she might be sick… 

Freddy was reapplying the wards to the file, the words and images before her slowly disappearing and all she could think about was him.  How he’d come for her.  How she always could rely on him - not in so much that she counted on him finding her, but in the way she just knew she was never in any real danger, because he always somehow knew; how to save her, how to take care of her.  

But, he’d come for her because she was her mother’s daughter, hadn’t he? 

And suddenly everything Harry had said made sense.

‘They will never allow the darkness that haunted them to touch you.  They will never burden you with the lengths they will go to, to keep you safe.’

Her parents were never going to hold her accountable because of whatever the fuck they had went through during the war.  

Aurora was sorry - truly she was.  She couldn’t imagine going through all the shite her parents had been made to endure - but that wasn’t her problem.  She had her own life - she had her own struggles.  

All this time she’d spent working, finding ways to pacify her magic while trying to do some sort of good in this fucking world - and it had all been a fucking lie!  She wasn’t using her magic to make a difference - she wasn’t throwing herself into dark and dangerous situations to make this world and her life better.  

No.  She was a spoiled child, wreaking havoc, because her parents were bloody cowards.  Letting her do what she wanted without consequence, without accountability.  Letting her run wild, ruled strictly by her emotions and unrestrained.    

Please, go on with how selfish you are , something in the back of her mind chided.

Aurora could feel Fred’s eyes on her - she didn’t need to look at him to know he was confused by her extended silence and, most likely, the look of rage on her face.  

She couldn’t explain to him what was going through her mind.  

Aurora couldn’t go through the details of what exactly Zabini had done.  As far as Fred knew, Harry’s involvement was at the bequest of Zabini’s direction.  Aurora couldn’t divulge the depths of her anger because she couldn’t risk exposing the truth of this whole fucking situation.  

That she was just a spoiled, rich girl, allowed to do whatever she wanted with no real consequence.  Daddy would always fix it, Daddy would always have the in to keep her controlled and contained.  

“I don’t think I realized…”

“No worries, Malfoy.”  Freddy was shuffling through the documents on his desk now, no longer watching her as severely as before - having no understanding as to the literal shift in her perception of a great many things.

“Perhaps next time, though, don't drink my father’s entire decanter of ‘ 64 Dalmore then leave your bloody heels in front of his desk.” Aurora smiled at the irritation in his tone but ultimately hadn’t heard what he said; the words didn’t seem to register.  

She was floating on a broken piece of wood, somewhere cold and alone in the waters of common sense, surrounded.  

She was protected in a way she didn’t deserve nor understand; in a way she’d never asked for, nor required.  

Did no one trust her?  

Did no one believe in her?

What have you done to deserve anyone’s trust?  To garner anyone’s faith?  What sense have you?

Aurora did her best to stifle the thunderous cloud of emotions brewing within.

“The case was closed,” Freddy sighed, “and the client was pleased with the results in the end.  They actually tipped rather well, so there was a little bonus in it - which is why I’m not far more irritated with you.”  

She was absolutely going to be sick, she was… A bonus?

A fucking bonus?

Nothing in the file indicated she’d killed those two people. Nothing in the file really linked her to the destructive fallout that should have been associated with her.  

Isn’t that the point of the firm - acquiring products and services under the radar - under the nose of the ministry; remaining invisible and discreet?  

Isn’t that what she’d signed up for? What she lived her life doing, all to pacify the violence within her?  

And it was all proving to be a smokescreen.   

She didn’t have a fucking job, she was paid to do what she wanted regardless of the outcome.  Perhaps she’d had a few successes on her cases - but in the grand scheme of things, was there any truth to her quest?  

Was she living a productive life and fixing herself at the same time?  

Was everything she continued to jeopardize worth the risks?

The sensible answer was ‘no’.  

It was not worth it. 

Freddy was ratting off information about another case he figured she’d be a perfect fit for.  It was some coven in Mongolia looking for a very rare stone; she was only half listening.  She couldn’t really comprehend anything he was saying because she was stuck in the idea, in the notion, that it wasn’t worth it.  

None of this was worth it… 

Releasing the inner turmoil and burning, destructive magic, letting that built up energy out to breathe and run amok… It wasn’t worth killing.  It wasn’t worth the lie that she was making a difference.  It wasn’t worth the nepotism and favoritism.  It wasn’t worth the very real danger she put her family in…

…put Harry in.

“Actually,” he was still talking about the Mongolian hive.  “I think I quit.”  

His silence was deafening.  

“This last one was a bit,” Aurora shifted in her seat uncomfortably.  “It was a bit intense and I don’t know…” 

Freddy nodded slowly.  “Well, that’s,” he paused, searching for the right word. “Unexpected.”

She hadn’t been intending on saying that, but hadn’t she just been discussing with Pru that she needed to change?  And…

And even if whatever was going on with Harry wasn’t able to continue - he’d been right… She was selfish.  She was an immature child with no real understanding of anything.  And how could she, in good conscience, continue working for Zabini?  

She didn’t know for certain how invested in her cases he’d been - she wasn’t sure if her father’s friendship with him had played a role in getting her this job in the first place, but it didn’t matter now, did it?

Freddy was contemplative, no doubt considering the impact of her words.  She was only a freelancer for Zabini’s procurement agency, in between acting as an on again off again consultant for other agencies as well.  

“I mean, not that you need the money, but… but what will you do now?”  Freddy ran his hand through his genteel brown curls and pushed his glasses further up his nose.  The question should have irritated her but it didn’t.  

She’d grown up with him - he knew the damaging effects of her magic, especially when unable to be expressed regularly.  

“I don’t know, Fred,” she whispered.  Contemplating what her options were.  

He was quiet for a moment then perked up.  

“You know, with all the O’s you received and your skill with arithmancy, you could be an Unspeakable…”  Aurora rolled her eyes, about to vehemently rebut his suggestion when his thought began to spew forth.  “I know how you feel about the ministry, but honestly… As un Unspeakable , you’d be very well positioned to do basically what you do now, and free to use your magic as needed.  It could possibly even help with the understanding of your abilities.”  Aurora watched him animate as his inner Ravenclaw began to show. 

“Gods, can you imagine?  You could theoretically dive into the study of our cores!  You could try to understand why The Boomers are so powerful and unique!”

Aurora chucked at his enthusiasm.  It was far too early for him to be this excited about such a massive hypothetical, but she was thankful for his tacit encouragement, nonetheless.

As she was silently thanking Godric for Freddy Nott the distinct sound of her floo roaring to life brought her attention back to the present.

“I’ve got to go Fred, I’ll see you later.”  She closed the laptop on his continued ramblings as the last person she expected to see leaned casually against the archway, a warm smile pulling his cheeks into a familiar grin.

“Dad.”  Aurora stood from her seat - unable to hide her surprise at seeing her father standing there.  “Wh-what are you doing here?”  Her lips pulled into a tight smile as she moved from behind her desk and into her father’s waiting embrace.  

It felt off…

Wrong.

She wound her arms around his waist and for a moment, lost herself in the warmth of him.

She ignored every instinct to be angry and rage at him because, if she were being sensible , she knew, deep down, it was all because he loved her.  

It was instantaneous, the way she melted against him - suddenly she wasn’t lost in the repercussions of decisions she’d made far too hastily.  She wasn’t bogged down by the stifling grip of consequences, she wasn’t ruled so destructivly by her emotions and all the betrayal she very much felt, she wasn’t a flaming mess.   

She didn’t think she was in love with one of his peers.  

She wasn’t dangling from a precipice too great and too wide to manage on her own.  She wasn’t consumed by the idea that it had all been for nothing

She was hidden and safe, cradled within the sanctuary of her father’s endless love.

A sigh of relief escaped her lips as she burrowed against his chest.   

“Little chicken ,” he breathed before pressing his nose to the crown of her head, taking a deep breath.   

Buried beneath the spicy, floral scent embedded in her hair, Draco yearned to detect the trace notes of that fresh, clean scent - the one that had once permeated at the top of his daughter’s head when she was but an infant.  Much to Draco’s frustration, however, it had faded as time went on. 

Every now and then, or perhaps it was his mind playing tricks on him, he could catch the delicate hint of that pure, innocent aroma, light and faint..  He took another deep inhale…

It wasn’t there today.

Aurora felt her father’s arms tighten around her.  

There was more stress and worry clouding her mind than she’d care to admit; a continually simmering turmoil in her belly, too many questions unanswered and unasked - but her dad was here .

“How are you, sweet chicken?”  His deep voice seemed darker than usual, with her ear pressed firmly against his chest.  The timber of it grounded her - and everything that had happened before: the fallout at work, the fallout from last night… the raw emotion still seeping from her conversation with Pru - it all seemed to disappear here.

Aurora took a deep breath.  “Better,” she whispered.  

Everything was a mess.  Everything .  But if there was ever a person that implicitly believed in her and reminded her that she was more than capable… It was her dad.

It’s unclear how long they stood there - Draco, unwilling to pull away first or Aurora, unable to let go of the comfort found only in her father’s hold.  Somewhere between the security of his nearness and the purity of her affection the pair were finally able to pull away, each feeling better than they had moments before.  

Aurora didn’t return to the study.  The enchantment she had on the room to give the illusion of a proper sitting room took effect the moment she stepped through the archway.  

It wasn’t that her father didn’t know what she did for a living, clearly . It was just that she preferred to keep him as far away from her work as possible.  Irritation filled her chest; not once had she realized how fucking close to her work he’d truly been.

“Were you still planning on joining us for the remainder of the day?”  

Oh, shite.  The Tourney.

Draco regarded her sudden stiffness with an amused grin.  

“Your mother said you might be a tad distracted today.”  Aurora lifted her eyes to his, a weak smile lifting her cheeks.

To anyone else, she would seem fine.  To anyone else, the soft turn of her lips would seem casual and effortless.  The slight flare of her nostrils would be perceived as innocuous and the thrum of magic surrounding her would, undoubtedly, be interpreted as merely her natural state.  

But he was not anyone else.  

There was something bothering his girl; something weighing heavily on her heart.  

Draco searched her face, always caught off guard by how strongly she resembled his grandmother, and discerned that whatever was burdening her was not something she felt she could easily share.  

It was the subtle turn of her chin upwards, in slight defiance; the miniscule narrowing of her eyes - just barely noticeable.  Draco saw it though, as he’d spent much of her childhood mesmerized by those eyes.  

Those eyes that never looked at him with anything other than unconditional love.  

Aurora was the first person on this Earth to ever see him as exactly what he was.  He wasn’t a pawn to her, he wasn’t a Death Eater, he wasn’t a spy, he wasn’t a means to an end… He’d only ever been her father - and that simple yet profound understanding meant his heart would always and forever be attuned to hers.  

Yes, something was clearly bothering her, but he would not pry.  Draco chuckled to himself, she was far too much like her mother when it came to his inquiries regarding subjects she was not yet ready to discuss. 

Draco’s arms folded across his chest, as a knowing grin spread across his face.  “It’s ok if you can’t.”  

Aurora glanced back into the study.  Draco turned his head as well, knowing full well he’d be unable to see her workspace.  

Clever little chicken…

“No,” she whispered before turning to face him again, a more determined focus stealing her gaze.  “No, I need to spend today with my family.”  Her voice was confident which did not match the sliver of sadness in her eyes.  

Draco’s chest tightened - what was making her sad?  What was hurting her?   

She was looking at her office, where her walls were most likely covered in notes and ongoing assignments… Was it Zabini?   Draco knew her last assignment had been problematic, but he knew next to nothing of the specifics.  

Had the fucker fired her?  

Not that Draco wouldn’t feel relief at the thought, but still… It was what made her happy.  

And if Blaise was going to take things away from his little girl then -

“...but I’m just not sure, Dad.  What do you think?”

Draco was pulled from his murderous thoughts toward Zabini when the realization that she’d been speaking to him settled.  

His eyes widened which caused her to roll her eyes.  

“You haven’t heard a word I’ve said,” she deadpanned after a moment.  “You’re just as bad as Teddy, honestly,” Aurora pushed herself off the wall and moved toward the kitchen, grabbing plates and spelling them to wash themselves.  

Draco glanced once more at the glamoured den; the walls clean and bare and in stark contrast to the rest of the cottage she’d customized to reflect her vibrant personality.  

“I apologize,” Draco said warmly as she moved toward the back of the house.  

“It’s alright,” she called from somewhere. “I’m just contemplating what a sensible person would do, when faced with the opportunity to try something new.”

Draco’s spine straightened at her words.  He moved closer to the hall leading toward the back of the house and paused next to the hearth.  A muggle photograph was framed at the edge of the mantle causing a tenderness to fill his heart as he stared at the still image.  

“You should always do what makes you happy…” His voice tapered off, lost in the memory of the moment staring him in the face.  “You mustn't mistake the practical tension that follows ‘sense’ with the conflicting emotions that accompany your rare sensibilities, darling.”

Aurora appeared around the corner, now dressed in her usual attire, very sensible and very muggle.  Draco regarded his daughter, the contemplative look on his face disappearing when he realized her change of clothes meant she planned to come back with him.  

She looked at the picture he’d been gazing at, her heart lurching within her chest.  

“Dad, I…” How did he know?  How did he always know… His words, his subtle impartation of wisdom, cut through the thick slab of shame and anger congealing around her, straight into her heart and she felt the truth of them, deep in her belly where her magic warred against itself.  

Aurora then looked at the picture he was gazing at, and her revaluation took a back seat as the ever present guilt clogged her throat..  “I’m sorry, dad,” she reflexively began.

“No, darling.  I’ll not hear it again.”  He lifted his hand between them, turning his face away from her in dismissal - already aware of what she was going to say.  

Aurora stared at the image - her favorite picture of her parents.  Both much younger, her father pinning an Unspeakable badge to her mother’s robes as her mother likewise was pinning an Auror badge to his.  

She glanced down briefly, eyes falling to his leg, covered by the length of his trousers, therefore hiding his artificial limb - but she knew.  

The firm pinch of her father’s fingers under her chin pulled her attention back to his face.  

“I think you can do anything you want, my dearest one.”  He released her chin to run his index finger along her cheek.  His dark grey eyes, warm with wisdom and love swallowing her within his sincerity.  “Your mother and I will always be right behind you.”  He pat her cheek before lowering his hand back to his side.  “Always.”

Aurora nodded in understanding, swallowing down the emotions still swirling within her, forcing herself not to cry for the umteenth time today.  She didn’t deserve his love - she didn’t deserve his protection.  How could she be so callous to think him a coward?  

She was the coward…  

“Now then,” he cleared his throat and turned to face the floo.  “If we do not make haste, your mother will, undoubtedly, talk Leo and Lyra into voting for her next chosen activity and, as I do not wish to spend the rest of the day outdoors in this miserable rain, we must away.”

Aurora laughed, a hearty sound that felt a bit too hysterical for the moment, but one she could not be bothered to care about.  

She’d spent the day, thus far, steeped in an effort to exercise better sense when it came to the prodigious way she lived her life.  She still had so much she needed to figure out and resolve… 

Instead of stewing further in all the ways she’d muddled the waters of her life and all the years of buried resentment now beginning to fester, Aurora took her father’s arm and followed him into the floo.   Tomorrow, she thought.  Tomorrow she would air her grievances and figure out where to go from here.  Besides, being with her family on this, the last day of summer, was a much more sensible thing to do.

Chapter Text

There’s normally a point in every mother’s life in which she accepts the fact that her children are no longer in need of her assistance.  This moment is often met with several emotions. 

Pain.

Relief.

Worry.

Anxiety. 

Excitement.

Confusion.

Hermione Granger-Malfoy was no exception to this predicament.  

Being a mother had never been something she planned on or longed for.  Come to think of it, had she been asked about children prior to getting married she most likely would have been repulsed by the idea and set the concept aside to consider at some future point.  

Children were problematic and messy.  They were loud and obstinate and loose cannons.  The irony of which was not lost on her, but still, these hypothetical children in some distant future never appealed to her, therefore she never took the time to seriously contemplate them.  

Then the war.  

Then the law.

Then Draco.

Somewhere between winning a war, and becoming a wife - Hermione forgot to think about them - those theoretical children she needed to consider.  Ideally, ‘ marriage’ would have been the perfect time to decide if and when the proper moment would be to engage in procreation…

But Draco.

Nothing had prepared her for how hard she would fall for that man.  Hermione had always been pragmatic and sensible, but in the end it hadn’t mattered.  She’d learned a lot during that first year of marriage, and looking back now, she wouldn’t change a thing.  

Well, perhaps they would have been a tad more conscientious about contraceptives and their efficacy.  

Aurora had been a surprise for the young couple and, if Hermione were being honest, she never stopped being a surprise.  

And in true Aurora fashion, Hermione remained silent, eyes wide, doing her best to comprehend what her daughter was asking.  

“Mum, you alright?” Aurora’s dark brows pulled together, a look of concern clouding her features. 

“I’m fine, love, um ..”  Hermione leaned forward, setting her tea down on the table between them.  “I’m just - I don’t think I’m hearing you correctly?”  She glanced at her husband, who’s stoic exterior remained firmly in place.  

Aurora straightened in her seat and let out a strained puff of air.  

“No, mum, you did.” Her posture was rigid and Hermione did not miss that energy pulsing through the air.  Years of raising this complicated little girl taught her how very precarious her hold on her emotions were.  

They were currently hanging by a thread. 

“What exactly are you needing clarification on, Aurora?”  Hermione’s voice took on a professional tone; it was always easier to remain level headed - especially when it came to Aurora’s temper.  

They’d had a pleasant day together…  Right?   They’d spent their last full day of summer together, yesterday. as they did every year, and it had been wonderful, hadn’t it?

Draco and the twins were set to return to Hogwarts in a few days, and…

She felt blindsided by the sudden shift in Aurora’s temperament.  She’d gone from saying goodnight, being lovely and cordial to waking up this morning on a mission.

This was the time in which Hermione would like to think Draco and the twins' absence might afford her a better opportunity to spend time with her eldest daughter - but she knew from experience that once the majority of her family returned to Scotland, Aurora tended to avoid her at all costs.  

A stab of longing cut through her heart at the thought she’d somehow become the very type of mother she would have sworn she’d never be.  

(Again, had she adequately prepared for motherhood before arriving at the threshold of it, she might have come up with something more concrete, a better plan, perhaps, to deal with headstrong children.  But she hadn’t and she was making this up as she went… Please refrain from judgment - even the brightest witch does not have all the answers).

Aurora took a deep breath.  “I need to know why Mr. Zabini broke protocol and informed you two I was missing.”  Aurora’s poignant stare passed between her parents.

Hermione understood the question, but she did not entirely understand why it was being asked.  Her brows pulled together in confusion as the faint tug of a migraine began to stir behind her eyes.  

Draco was leaning back in the loveseat, his legs stretched between them and their daughter - sitting on the opposite sofa.  Even if she weren’t sitting so close to him, she would have been able to sense him tense at her words. 

She cleared her throat. 

“My dear, I’m not entirely sure as what-”

“No, mum.  Please don’t do that,” Aurora’s voice took on a hysterical note - one Hermione had come to dread.  Things never seemed to work out positively when her voice reached that certain pitch.  

“Do not speak to me as if I’m one of them,” the impressive line of her jaw seemed to tighten - turning her already strong features into a fearsome thing to behold.  She was always blown away by how utterly beautiful her daughter was, even when angry - even when a look of disgust hardened her features.  “I’m not one of your sycophants or a member of the press, even.  Please don’t take that genial tone, I can’t bear it!”  

Hermione’s eyes widened at the volume of her words.  Was the mere sound of her voice a trigger for Aurora now too?  

Draco leaned forward, his large palm resting reassuringly on his wife’s back.  Hermione dared not speak again.  

It wasn’t that she was afraid of her daughter… 

Aurora had significant power - abilities that still did not seem to obey her - even when she was in control of them.  But that wasn’t where her hesitancy stemmed.

No, she realized that her relationship with Aurora teetered back and forth upon an imbalanced scale that, more often than not, tipped out of Hermione’s favor.  

Speaking now would only cause damage, and Hermione, so desperately, did not wish to further alienate her daughter.  

She loved the woman sitting across from her - she loved her with a fierceness that would never weaken or shrivel; which is what made this bitter pill so much harder to swallow.  It was the fact that nothing, nothing Hermione did , in Aurora’s eyes, ever seemed like the right thing to do.  

So she would sit quietly and patiently, waiting for some sort of sign that her daughter was amenable to hearing her voice again.  Which, judging by the disappointed scoff Aurora let out was also the wrong course of action.

She couldn’t win.

“What do you need to know, Aurora?”  Hermione swallowed her unease at the sound of her husband’s voice.  

His hand was warm on her back as he sat up straight, aligning his posture with hers. 

“I want to know how long you two have been intruding on my life!”

“Darling, that’s not-”

“Because it’s mine!”  Aurora continued, steamrolling over her father’s attempt to address her accusation.  “You get that?  It’s my life!  Mine!  And you can’t…  You can’t just pull strings here and call in favors there and, and…”

The air was practically sizzling with energy - the ends of Aurora’s magnificent curls began to tremble as a result.  

Draco’s hand tightened around his wife’s fingers, fortifying their unity as Aurora lay a bevy of grievances at their feet. 

***

She needed a drink.

A stiff one, preferably Ogden’s, but any sort of firewhisky would do.  Neat.  There was no way she would be able to tolerate a single ounce of ice, watering it down.  She needed the burn.  

Hermione was not one to indulge, especially not with alcohol.  That was more Theo and Ginny - their tastes were immaculate.  The only reason her palette had grown somewhat sophisticated was because of Draco’s friendship with Nott and Ginny’s marriage to him, otherwise it would always be butterbeers and tequila sunrises.

But after the lengthy discussion she’d had with Draco and Aurora - Hermione could rightly admit how desperate she was to indulge - for just a moment.  

She floo’d to Nott manor after Aurora apparated away.  

There’d been less than a minute of silence to pass between her and Draco when she declared the twins were still missing a few items for school and needed to get them at that exact moment.  

After nearly thirty years of marriage, however, Draco most definitely saw through the attempt to mask her feelings and allowed her to depart without calling bullshite.  

Gods, she loved that man.

Hermione moved through the empty foyer of Nott Manor, waiting for any noise to alert her of its inhabitants.  With six children between the ages of twenty and ten - there was always noise filling the halls of their home.  

It was a comforting quality, the genetic traits each Weasley seemed to possess.  Each member of that family, no matter who they paired off with, seemed to bring joy and life to even the most insipid environments.  It would blossom as their families grew into the branches of other, less accommodating family trees and places like Nott Manor, once so dark and cold - full of hate and bigotry now felt warm and brimming with life. 

Well, it normally did… The silence that surrounded her upon entrance was quite odd.  

“Hello?” A small voice called from behind her.  Hermione turned toward the informal den to see the smallest Nott peeking her cherub-like cheeks around the corner. 

Hermione’s smile was instant. 

“Ms. Hermione, you have to hide or they’ll find you,” Ruby said - her already quiet voice barely above a whisper.  Hermione looked about the hall, the eerie silence suddenly making sense.  

“Oh, I see,” Hermione lowered her tone and crouched against the doorframe to be at eye level with the little girl.  “And who are we hiding from?”

“Grandpapa and Artie, they’ve been looking for me for at least an hour, but they haven’t found me yet.”  Her smile was mischievous like Ginny’s, but her large brown eyes reminded Hermione far too much of Nott’s sly demeanor.  

“That’s because you’re a smart one,” Hermione whispered back, basking in the way her miniature face lit up at the compliment.  

Ruby Molmoria Nott, though she presented as the quietest Weasley-Nott in existence, had all of the makings of a larger than life force to one day be reckoned with.  Hermione remembered when the little girl was born, with her mass of messy brown hair and her tiny, chubby frame.  She was born the largest of her siblings, at almost ten pounds and twenty-six inches long, and her parents had, rightfully so, named her after the only other giant they knew, Rubeus Hagrid .  

“Is your mummy hiding too?” Hermione asked.  

“No, mummy and daddy took Jazzy to look at brooms before he leaves quidditch.  Artie is supposed to be watching me,” she added with a giggle, “but he can’t find me, can he?”  

Hermione lifted her hand to cover the smile splitting her face.  How utterly adorable she was…    

“GOTCHA!” Hermione yelped in surprise at the sudden shout.  She snatched Ruby to her side right as the familiar laughter of Arthur Weasley appeared, along with his corporeal form.  

Ruby wiggled away from Hermione’s grasp to wag her finger in her grandfather’s face.  “No, no!  That’s not fair, Grandpapa!  No magic!  You’re breaking the rules.”  

“Oh, goodness, I had not realized…”  Arthur put a finger to his lips as he pretended to think.  “So  I suppose I shouldn’t cast another disillusionment on the pair of us , to find Artie?”  

Hermione watched the now silver-haired Arthur Weasley, lower to one knee before his youngest grand-daughter, in deep concentration.  He winked up to her once before turning his attention back to Ruby.  

Her smile was instantaneous.  

“Shall we, Ms. Ruby?” Arthur offered his hand, to which the little girl accepted.  

“We certainly shall, Grandpapa.”   

He stood, pulling her onto his back and was about to be off before he remembered Hermione’s presence.  

“Were you recruiting Ms. Hermione or was she here to merely spectate our grand heroics?”  He asked, causing  Ruby sniggered into her grandfather’s knitted sweater.  

“No, Grandpapa!  She’s looking for mummy!”  

The muscle in Hermione’s chest ached - remembering Aurora at this age - still easily entertained, still easy to make smile…

“Ah, of course,” Arthur turned to her.  “Gin will be back in a few hours, dear. She and Theodore wanted to surprise Jasper with a new broom before he’s off for pre-season training.”

Hermione nodded, prepared to tell him she was just going to check back in later - but the girl on his back began to yank his shoulder. 

“Papa, there!  There!  Hurry, he’s getting away!”  

Arthur’s attention was diverted at Ruby’s command then he was zipping away after casting a disillusionment over them.  

A moment of silence was soon ended by the sound of Artie’s adolescent laughter, quickly followed by Arthur’s booming roar and Ruby’s squeal of delight.  

Hermione smiled at the heartwarming noise.  Her own little dears were long past the age of being entertained by silly games - and, unlike Ginny’s children, hers had never been able to enjoy a game of hide and seek with their grandparents.  

But that was another musing for another day, she had enough melancholy for now and could not bear to heap upon herself anymore.  

Hermione moved back toward the floo, a bit disappointed by the turn of events.  

Motherhood.

Aside from Molly Weasley, there was no other person Hermione had been able to lean on, since the moment she discovered she was pregnant, than Ginny.   With the exception of Draco, of course, Ginny had been a constant support as well as a vast trove of knowledge; one of the benefits of having her own horde of nieces and nephews.   

Ginny had been such a pillar of encouragement, from the very beginning, And what she was faced with now?  Was it not just another trial of motherhood?  

How does one deal with their daughter’s resentment?  

How does one navigate the need to protect versus their child’s need for independence?

How does one be a better mother?

Hermione stood at the floo entrance, wondering who might be able to speak with her.  She just needed to work out Aurora’s anger with a third party so as to better understand what she wasn’t seeing.  

Luna, Merlin bless her , would speak in riddles and Hermione, despite loving her to the very depths of her soul, had not the patience to navigate her confusing responses today.  

Pansy was always a pragmatic sounding board for Hermione’s emotional dilemmas, but Pansy and Nev’s oldest was barely seventeen.  There wasn’t much similarity between Aurora and Poppey Longbottom, and Hermione didn’t want to spend the next few hours reviewing what had led to the current state of affairs.  

The only other person with whom she could reach out to was Padma Zabini.  Her oldest was similar in age and, if memory served her correctly, had proven to be more than a handful over the years. 

But the notoriously philosophical Ravenclaw had an amazing talent of taking things personally and Hermione didn't have the energy to dissect her words enough to prevent that from happening.  

So with nowhere else to go, Hermione dropped the floo powder back into its dish and apparated to the cobblestone streets of Diagon Alley, particularly on the front steps of Flourish and Blotts.  

Perusing the shelves of one of her favorite places was calming, for certain.  The familiar scent of ink and paper filled her senses.  The cramped aisles, magically extended to allow for an over abundance of material dwarfed Hermione in a sense of ease.  

She could breathe a sigh of relief - no matter what was happening in her world - she was always able to find a quiet reprieve amongst the books. 

She was meandering through modern, non-fiction on the second level, wondering if there were any self-help or parenting ‘how to’s’ in the wizarding world’s literature.  After passing the section dedicated to Napoleon's influence on Magical-French society, Hermione heard the familiar cadence of someone who wouldn’t have ventured here had they had any choice in the matter.

“Of course, sweetheart,” the voice was faint, but the longsuffering was clear.  “Whatever you need.”

“Harry?”  Hermione peered over the edge of the railing to see her best friend, his daughter and an obscene amount of books levitating behind the pair.

“Aunt Mione!”  Jaymes’s smile carried her excited voice across the store, her green eyes taking on a sincere light of unexpected delight.  

Hermione was distracted by the teenager rushing up the stairs toward her, flinging her arms around her.  She was unable to decipher the somberness in Harry’s appearance.

“Hello, Jaymes, darling!”  Hermione squeezed the lanky teenager tight in her arms; the warmth mirrored in the embrace.  The elder witch struggled to let go…  

“It’s back to school time, I see,” she laughed, commenting on the books floating behind them.  

Jaymes blushed, before pulling away and smiling up at her father.  “I tried to tell him I don’t have to have all of them,” a note of embarrassment threaded within her voice.  “It’s far too much.”  The girl was so practical - Hermione couldn’t help but love her more.

“And I told you,” Harry’s voice took on an authoritative tone. “If more books is what my daughter needs, then I will happily apply for the permits required to expand Grimmauld to hold them all.”  Hermione watched a look of pride spread across his cheeks.  “I will get you the moon , JJ… It’s never too much.”

The father and daughter shared one more silent nod of understanding - neither courageous enough to envelope the other in a hug to solidify the tender moment that had just been passed between them.  But the raw emotion of the moment was felt nonetheless, and Hermione fought the urge to swoon at the way her best friend loved his daughter.  

Harry might not have been the best when it came to expressing his emotions, but he was quite adept at saying the right thing at the right time.  

He was a very good dad.

“Right then, what other aisle have we yet to traverse?”  Harry spun, brandishing his wand and sending the books hovering over his head to the register, making room for the new ones his daughter had yet to choose.

Jaymes laughed, a boisterous sound that reminded Hermione of years spent in the Gryffindor common room, trying to read and trying to ignore the overpowering laugh emanating from the man standing across from her now.  

A wretched pain bloomed within her belly, throwing into sharp relief how much time had passed since then.  Hermione turned her attention from the young witch back to her oldest friend in the world and realized how lucky she was.  

How lucky they all were, for that matter. 

“Cuh-caw !” Someone shouted from below, pulling the trio’s attention.  Poppey Longbottom had her hands cupped around her mouth and began waving wildly.  “What’s it doing, Potter?!” She laughed, before bidding her friend join her.

Jaymes looked to her father and being met with only a smile and nod, took off toward her friend.  

“See you later, Aunt Mione!”  She called over her shoulder before rushing off with the other Ravenclaw.  

Harry watched her disappear in the aisles, sighing to himself.  There were no general thoughts in his mind, well, none other than guilt.  

Guilt was very strong in his heart today. 

It wasn’t often he thought of Severus Snape - but just now, turning back to face his best friend, he wished, with much gusto, that he’d actually learned the art of Occlumency, fifth year.  There was much he would have preferred to bury deep beneath the surface of his consciousness.  

The taste of Hermione’s daughter on his lips, the feel of her skin beneath his touch, the sweet, keening noises-

“...you must be struggling, I’m sure.”

“What?”  Harry snapped - not sure how Hermione knew he was struggling with anything!

Hermione jerked at his outburst, confused by his sudden defensiveness.  “So,” she said slowly, “you’re not going to worry about her entering her final year at Hogwarts?”

“Oh, right,” Harry cleared his throat.  “No, I am.  Very much.”  He turned toward the stairs and began making his way down.  He was able to catch a glimpse of his daughter’s hair bob through the aisles and out the door with Poppey.  “I honestly don’t think I’ll ever stop, really.”  

Hermione noticed her old friend’s gaze shift toward the ground, watching his steps as he moved to the register to pay for his daughter’s books.  That is when it occurred to her that of all her friends, Harry Potter was possibly the one person who might actually have halfway decent advice when it came to her relationship with her headstrong, powerful, daughter. 

Harry completed his purchases and had the books sent to Grimmauld when he turned to bid Hermione farewell.  Instead, however, the witch smiled up at him, her curls bouncing with excitement. 

“Let’s get a drink,” she pulled on his arm. “My treat!”  

An enormous sense of dread pooled in his stomach.  

Fuck.

***

At some point, Aurora wasn’t too clear on the details, but at some point an informal gathering of her friends had descended upon the Cottage at Hemlock Grove.  

She was, not entirely, but quickly on her way to becoming sloshed.  

The recent memory of her mother’s piss poor excuses, following their confrontation, had pushed her into a sense of despondency.  

And despite how noble her parent’s intentions were, despite how resolute they were in their assurance that their interference was only meant to be a safeguard, it all boiled down to the uncomplicated fact they didn’t trust her.  

And were they wrong?  Could she really look at the situation and say their concerns were unfounded?  As angry as she was for their lack of belief in her and their continued unwillingness to be honest with her, she couldn’t rightly blame all her issues on them.  

That was illogical, and she was…

She was trying to be - not - illogical.  

Aurora snorted to herself - she was making no sense.  

So rather than obsess over the ongoing drama that was her familial relations, and rather than fixate on the fucking disaster her career was currently spiraling into she called Kyran Zabini.

In all honesty, she wanted to call Harry Potter and enter into an unprecedented second discourse of all the sex, but she couldn’t begin to figure out what she should and should not do about him.  She really needed to talk to Pru.  

But Prudence was most likely engaged with either her siblings or Teddy or her siblings AND Teddy, so Kyran Zabini it was. 

Despite who his father was, Aurora knew if there was one person she could rely on to throw together a fabulous party at the very last moment, with good alcohol and fantastic music, it was Kyran.

Within an hour of receiving her owl, he’d arranged for three large cauldrons to be delivered, filled with a wide variety of booze.  Two house-elves (don’t tell her mother, ok?) arrived a short time later to set up seating on the front lawn, complete with floating fairy lights - charmed to brighten as the sun set.  

Within two hours just about everyone she went to school with and most of the older Weasley clan had shown up. 

“You amaze me, Zabini,” Aurora summoned a drink from one of the cauldrons. She pulled the cork from the bottle and began downing the fabulous alcohol.  “Very truly, you amaze me…”  She took in the lawn, the clusters of bodies sprinkled about, warming charms surrounding the perimeter to make the cool night air bearable, and the up beat tempo of a dreamy voice crooning helped to ease the stress she’d been dealing with most of the day. 

“Have you forgotten who my father is? Honestly, Malfoy.  I’m hurt by the impressed tone of your voice.  This was hardly enough to break a sweat.”  He gestured around them which made Aurora smile again. 

Kyran was twenty-three and, despite having graduated from Hogwarts almost six years ago, retained the title of ‘Prince of Slytherin’.  

Rightly so.

Disregarding the fact he was not the oldest of The Boomers, he was, however, by far the most interconnected.  Partly because of who his parents were and partly because it came easy to him, assuming that leadership role, that caretaker position, that patriarchal duty.  

He was always in the know, always aware of who was where and with whom.  Kyran was a good friend and a reliable wizard.

Aurora was only slightly jealous of how easy things seemed to be for him.  

His magic worked in conjunction with darkness - he was able to conjure and manipulate shadows on a scale, prior to his existence, unheard of - except for in ancient stories.  Aurora never tried to think too long on his abilities because it was more terrifying than not - but Kyran…

He did not instill fear into anyone’s hearts.  He wasn’t labeled unreliable or volatile.  His parents always seemed to trust him and believe him.  They always seemed to encourage him…

To be on his side.

Kyran gave her another smile, his brilliant teeth contrasting against the rich russet, caramel of his skin and his ridiculous, heavy black curls waved in the breeze.  

A jolt of longing pierced through her chest, there for an instant then gone all too quickly.  Why couldn’t she be attracted to him?   

He was only a few years younger than her… He was disturbingly handsome and thoughtful.  He was a bit of a slut when it came to certain things, but she’d known it was more a front he put on.  

Kyran was loyal, funny and charming.  He was everything she would be lucky to have, and yet he wasn’t what she wanted.  

He wasn’t what she needed.    

“Try harder next time, yeah?” He said, backing away, most likely on his way to smooth talk one of the Weasley twins into sneaking off to some secluded corner of her property.  

Aurora shook her head in mock exasperation.  

“Boys,” she mumbled under her breath.  

“What about boys?” 

Aurora jerked away from the sudden appearance of Freddy at her side and stifled a groan of irritation once her heart rate returned to something normal.  

She glared at him.  “Who invited you?”

“How utterly rude,” he smirked before leaning across the table in front of her to grab a handful of crisps.  “Besides, you owe me for that little stunt you pulled with father’s ‘64 Dalmore.”  

He was preoccupied with the spread before them, idly pushing his glasses back up his nose.  

Aside from the fact he was incredibly irritating and practically her little brother, with as close as their families were and as long as she’d known him, Freddy was objectively beautiful.  No Kyran, but still - handsome enough.  

The burning in her stomach began to flare to life, her magic scraping against her nerves.  

Aurora took a deep breath - she was being sensible.  She was being sensible.  

She was not thinking about Harry and the way his fingers grazed across her skin, like he was memorizing the lines of her body.  She was not going to think about the way his lips pulled over the subtle curve of her breasts, or the warmth of his tongue lapping against-

“And you’re sure I can’t tempt you?”  The directness of Nott’s voice shoved Aurora out of the unforgiving onslaught of memories and back to the present.  

“What?” Her voice was far too heavy.  

Freddy’s eyes narrowed in suspicion, but repeated himself.  “The case I was telling you about yesterday?”

Oh, Aurora’s heart skipped a beat, her magic stretching within her - itching to be let out.  

“A coven right?  In Montreal?”  

“Mongolia,” he finished his handful of crisps and reached for more.  

It didn’t really matter - she couldn’t do it.  She was serious when she told him she needed to get away from this, and not just because of her parents.  

Harry was right - about several things, he was right. 

“And before you say no, it wouldn’t be a full assignment.  The directors don't want to accept the request; the coven has a sordid history when it comes to outside assistance.  I think Zabini just wants to find what they're looking for, before they do.”

Intriguing…

She took another sip of her drink, considering what he was asking.  If Zabini didn’t want it, and didn’t want them to have it, it stood to reason he didn’t want the ministry getting it either… 

Which meant it must be something very important and very lost.  

How very intriguing. There  was a concrete shift in her magic, breathing to life,  sending little waves of anticipation across her skin.

“Damnit, Nott,” Aurora sat her drink down and turned to face him.  “What exactly do you know?”  

He smiled before grabbing Aurora by the upper arm and leading her through the lawn, and back into her house.  He was well acquainted with her home so he wasted no time in taking her straight to the den, which upon entering, transfigured from the mundane to the magical.  

Freddy was unbothered by the amount of notes and pictures, graphs and parchment covering the walls.  He released his hold on her and moved to one of the mismatched, ugly armchairs seated before the bay window across from her desk.  

The party was going strong, she noticed Kyran with either Pandora or Piper Weasley (she wasn’t certain which one - she could never tell them apart) behind the thick trunk of her magnolia tree, at the edge of the garden.  

That sharp twinge of jealousy pricked her in the chest, but not at the sweet display of infatuation - but how easy it was for the two of them to admit their feelings and bask in the glow of it.  

Heat was beginning to flood her chest, her magic growing restless.  She took a deep breath and moved across the room to sit on the edge of her desk.  

“So,” Freddy began, “hives are normally lower level, ceremonial groups of non-magical muggles, solely focused on ritual and energy.  The very fact they were able to contact Mr. Zabini’s firm is outrageously suspicious.”

“I thought he didn’t entertain requests from non-magical sources?  Doesn’t he refer them out?”

A familiar, mischievous grin spread across his face.  “Of course he does, but the nature of the request gave him a reason to consider.”  Fred leaned forward, planting his elbows on his knees as he excitedly conveyed his own interest in the case. 

“Aurora, they’re looking for the resurrection stone.”

Her back stiffened.  “The resurrection stone?”

“Mmhmm,” he nodded, the light in his eyes growing brighter with each silent moment that passed between them.  

“But how…” She trailed off in thought.  “How do they even know-”

“Exactly!”  He finished - already ten paces ahead of Aurora’s thought process - annoying Ravenclaws.  “They must be magical - or have some sort of magical element - it’s the only thing that makes sense.” 

“Fuck.  I thought…”

“So did I!  There shouldn’t be any more practicing hives in that region, I already checked.  None unregistered , that is.  So if this is a real request, from a true coven-”

“Then there is a good chance they are trying to bring someone back, someone very powerful or very dangerous.”

“Or both,” he took another swig of his drink.  

“The Mongolians aren't really known for their light magical contributions.” 

Freddy nodded along as he watched her assess the situation.  

“Fuck… ” Aurora murmured.  The fire raging within her was unable to be stamped down and ignored.  “There’s a reason they reached out to Zabini directly.”

He pressed his lips in a thin line before leaning back in his seat and running a hand through his buoyant curls.  

“How do they even fucking know about it?”  

“I don’t know, Malfoy.  I honestly don’t know… It makes no sense.  But I’m certain Zabini has already pieced it together and is trying to, quietly , get to it before anyone else.”

Aurora sighed.  “I mean, I technically know where the pieces of it are, but…”  But this was far heavier than what she wanted to deal with.  Yes, it wasn’t an actual assignment, but it was just close enough to a real threat that she felt the need to pause and consider.  

It’s not as if she was finding it for the coven, Zabini just wanted it before they could get it, or someone worse - like the Ministry .  Aurora scowled at the thought - she wouldn’t put it past the Ministry to do whatever it took to get their grubby little hands on that particular item.  

One of the original Deathly Hallows.  

The events of the Second Wizarding War were documented thoroughly and rather well in the textbooks, but the real existence of the Hallows was painted over in a murky gray area.  One in which there dwelt nowhere near enough information to provide the general public a thorough account thereof.  

Some things had been omitted - like the Horcruxes and the Hallows and the fact Harry had actually been Avada’d for a second time.  

Aurora suppressed the intense grief that filled her heart at the thought of what Harry had been made to endure.

It was secrets - the continual and perpetual thread of secrecy, of this world’s inability to trust anyone with anything.  And she couldn’t entirely find fault with her elders - they had been, after all, mere children enlisted to fight one of the darkest wizards of all time.  

And the only reason she knew as much as she did  was because she did not respect her parent’s boundaries.  

But, was it really her fault they failed to properly silence their conversations and/or ward off sections of their personal libraries they did not want her to read.  She was a curious person by nature, and it was illogical to hold her responsible for that insatiable thirst to know.  

Ok, perhaps she was reaching a bit too far - but it still stood to reason - she didn’t know because her mum never told her or even trusted her with the truth.  She knew because she’d taken matters into her own hands and figured out what her parents refused to tell her. Well as much as she could - there were still too many questions to which she couldn’t find the answers…

What sent Grandfather Lucius to prison the first time?  What caused that purple scar on her mother’s chest, the one she thought she always had hidden from sight?  The word carved into her arm - who put that there?  Why did the Goblins refuse to allow her mum into Gringotts, still to this day?  Why did she grow weird at the mention of Grandma and Grandpa Granger?

Those and so many more questions and scenarios that didn’t add up - her father too.  

But it didn’t matter.  

This was one thing she did know something about - and as she continued turning over the possibilities in her mind she reached the conclusion that yes, she would find the pieces of the stone.  

“Alright,” she said with surety, “I’ll do it.”  She rose from her perch on the desk and moved toward one of the maps on her wall: The Forbidden Forest.   

“Excellent!” Freddy clapped his hands together.  

“But,” Aurora interrupted his excitement, “off the books.  I don’t want anyone to know I’m looking for it.  Understand?”  She turned toward him, raising an expectant eyebrow.  

Fred grinned that wicked grin of his, fanning the flames billowing in her abdomen.  

“My lips are sealed.”

Chapter Text

Aurora was bent over an aerial image of Hogwarts.  One of the many things she’d procured using questionable methods to help her in her seizes and searches.  

There was a reason she was bloody amazing at her job, and it had absolutely nothing to do with who her fucking parents were.  

She took a deep, calming breath, trying to ignore the sting of betrayal still lingering in the back of her mind.  She instead focused on the map before her; the red and yellow image of Hogwarts, obtained with muggle technology using a spectrum of UV light ratios.  

Hogwarts was charmed to protect against muggle means of discovery, but there was a loophole that she’d discovered when she first began this line of work.  

Even in non-magical forests and rural areas, not already layered beneath spells and deterrents, there were naturally occurring elements that should still be visible with regular infrared and ultraviolet scans.  

Aurora believed, and rightly so, the stronger the concealments, the darker the images appeared beneath UV detection.  Therefore if she reversed the polarization, heavily warded locations, such as Hogwarts or The Ministry of Magic, would be clear as crystal on muggle satellites.

It was how she’d found the poachers, it was how she’d found the dragon ring and it was how she would find The Resurrection Stone. 

There was a certain level of high handedness Aurora Malfoy possessed.  She didn’t often flaunt it, she didn’t often advertise it, but in moments like these, when she was able to break every fucking rule in the book… Being able to scan and search the five mile radius surrounding her alma mater, she felt particularly proud of herself.     

Aurora continued running through each square inch of the map, considering and ruling out areas that didn’t match the type of concealment she believed was placed around the stone.  

Nothing too weak, nothing too small, nothing too far away.  

Harry would have done everything possible to lock down that area, it was likely he’d asked her mum to help, but the more Aurora thought on that concept, the more she rejected the idea.  Harry wouldn’t have asked anyone to assist him, not with this.  

“What’s goin’ on here?” The sudden break in silence and the close proximity of the voice startled Aurora out of her focus, causing her to spin and send a nasty bat boogie at the invader.

“Oi, what the hell, Malfoy!” Teddy jumped back, blocking the hex just in time.  

“What the hell?  What the HELL!?”  Aurora, who’d been heavily fortified in her focus, combing through the grounds surrounding Hogwarts, screamed.  

Teddy was already bent over, hands braced on his knees, laughing at the terror infused rage wafting off his cousin in waves.  

“Are you out of your bloody mind?!  I could have killed you!”  Teddy did not react, merely continued to laugh.  “You fucking tosser!”

The shrill sound of his laughter continued through the small room, pushing Aurora’s temper further and further.  She contemplated sending another hex at him, for being such a bloody moron, but her better judgment won out and instead she summoned a modicum of patience to wait out his ridiculous laughter.  

“Salazar’s sack, you idiot!  It’s a small house, not a bloody quidditch pitch, why must you be so fucking loud?”  Aurora turned back toward her map and began vanishing her notes.  

“Temper, temper… ”  Teddy teased.

“Fuck you,” she spat, not bothering to face him again. 

Teddy chortled all the way over to the ugly armchairs, collapsing into one, absorbing and enduring the glare Aurora threw at him.  His walls were firmly in place, but even had they not been, nothing would have stopped the giddiness rolling off of him at her irritation.  

“You’re such a bloody child,” she grumbled - waving her wand over the desk - removing the light emanating from beneath the maps.  

The room immediately returned to a normal, soft glow as she moved to sit next to him.  He took a moment to take in the walls, as she stewed in her anger, littered with her work.  An impressive resume , he thought.  Some of these tasks and accomplishments he knew were of a higher caliber than some of the people he worked with.

“You know, you’d make an excellent curse breaker,” Teddy murmured, more to himself than to her.  

Her brows knit together in suspicion, distracting her from her prior irritation.  “Are you quite well?”

Teddy laughed, a light hearted sound that filled the air with a levity she’d been missing for the past few days.  

“I hadn’t really given it any thought until just now,” he eventually said, his laughter subsiding enough to speak.  “But it does make sense, I mean…”  He gestured to the walls of her office, not needing to say more.

Aurora considered his words from that perspective - and it didn’t seem too far-fetched.  On paper, she was already a curse breaker; everything they did - she already had a thorough knowledge of how to do on her own.  And it would be a respectable, logical, sensible profession…

She shook her head to clear out the thoughts.  “No, I don’t think it would work.  I would have to have a partner and work for the ministry and-”

“I do not work for the ministry,” Ted cut in - halting her excuses.  “I work for Gringotts and am sometimes hired on by the ministry for specific tasks  - mostly the Department of Mysteries.”

Aurora eyes widened.  The DoM?  Her Mother?  Was he joking?!

“But,” Teddy spoke up, “there’s a whole department of us, and not all of us get contracted out.  There’s more than plenty of jobs we are assigned to.  And, not all of us have partners.”  He leaned over the arm of the chair, propping his chin on the upturned heel of his hand.  

Aurora narrowed her eyes in suspicion.

“I’m just saying - it’s not a half bad idea.”  Teddy matched her direct gaze, smiling in the silence. “You’d be irritatingly good at it, I think.”

“Alright, Lupin,” she smiled.  “Your suggestions have been duly noted, management will consider.”  She pulled her knees to her chest, settling into the comfortable silence that stretched between them.  

“And… just so you know,” he said softly.  “I am sorry,” he said, his voice returning to normal.  Aurora looked back up at him, the smile on her face slowly disappearing. 

What was he sorry for?  

Aurora felt quite unready to deal with any real emotion or serious topic - her magic was… 

Wait.

She consciously considered the quiet in her body - the slow moving current of it. 

She glanced at the clock above her desk to realize she’d been sorting through the maps for several hours.  Not surprising.   She always lost herself in her work.  It’s what made her work so valuable - it was the only time her magic seemed pacified.  

Well working and when… when Harry…   

Aurora stifled that train of thought - she knew Teddy wouldn’t read her, but still - no sense in tempting fate.

Teddy watched her physically settle further into the cushions of her chair, somehow blending herself with the tired fabric.  The pea green seat was far too large and far too shabby to be of any real aesthetically pleasing value - but here, in this cottage, where she sat with her curls in a messy bun atop her head, dressed in an old Ravenclaw jumper and a pair of muggle athletic shorts, he was thrown off by how complicated she truly was.  

Was his apology enough to make her uncomfortable?  Really?   He didn’t need to use his abilities when her physical tells were so monstrously obvious.

Just like the hideous arm chairs, and her mismatched (muggle and magical) attire… Just like the glasses perched on her nose and the wand carelessly shoved through the bun on her head - Teddy had never seen such a manifestation of someone’s inner chaos than he saw in her. 

She was both wildly confident and overwhelmingly insecure…

And as crazy as she was, as complex and complicated, he loved her like he imagined he would love a little sister.  

Aurora was just the right amount of problematic and prodigious, tiresome and terrifying, amazing and well… She was Aurora - a giant thorn in his side, for which he would have it no other way.  

“So I’m assuming I did not garner an invite to the party the other night because I did not tell you about Pru and me?”

Aurora’s dark brows pulled together, “No… that’s not…”

“Because I fully intended to tell you, I just didn’t expect you to be awake so early.  You rarely are awake that early.”

She relaxed a bit into the oversized chair, resting her chin on her knees.  

Teddy decided to take a chance and lowered his walls slightly, feeling the air around him and coming up with a lingering sense of confusion and … and something else.

Longing?  

Her eyes met his, forcing him to throw his walls back up in haste, not wanting to upset her - she always knew when he would pry.  

“Is that a new case?”  Teddy asked, nodding toward the desk she’d been leaning over, effectively changing the subject.  

Aurora took a deep breath, her nerves filling all the empty space between them.  She needed to stay calm and keep her emotions in check.  It wasn’t that she was still feeling unsettled from his intrusion or even his suggestions, it was what she was searching for… The Stone.  

 It had as much to do with Teddy as it did her.

“Yeah,” she replied.

“Do you need any help?”

Aurora shook her head.  “No, I think I have a good idea where to find what I’m looking for, it’s just getting to it that will be the issue.”  She took a deep breath - knowing she needed to address one of the hippogriffs in the room.

“And I’m sorry about what happened a few days ago… I just… I wasn’t expecting to-”  She stopped herself, not sure what she really wanted to say.  “I was projecting, I think.”

Teddy was doing his best to avoid the strain in her voice.  It would be easier to let her continue hiding her feelings, it would have been easier, for everyone involved, were her feelings to remain locked away.  

But he cared about her and the last he’d seen his godfather, he knew Harry was taking a rather indifferent approach to his feelings for Aurora.   

This was not going to bode well, for either of them, Teddy knew.  One way or another her emotions always came spilling out - but at least if he anticipated them it was less - violent .

“What’s the matter, Malfoy?”  His voice was light, but he sensed her muscles tightening reflexively.  She looked at him, pressing her lips into a thin line as he arched a quizzical brow.   

“It’s nothing,” she said, summoning a book of Germanic Runes to her lap.  She flipped through pages idly, causing him to grin.  Aurora was not very difficult to read, even when he didn’t use his abilities.  

He didn’t want to burrow beneath the cluster of emotion still cocooning the woman sitting across from him, but he did love her and he loved Harry.  And, honestly , the two of them together made more sense than he’d like to admit.  

Teddy took a breath.  He’d already made several questionable decisions in the past few days - what was one more?

“You know I know, right?”  He leaned back into the chair and lifted one of his ankles to balance on the opposite knee.  He summoned the book from her hands and laid it gently down on the end table between them.    

Aurora’s eyes widened for only a moment before she quickly diverted her attention elsewhere..  

“I know you know that,” he continued without waiting for her acknowledgement.  “And it would surprise you to learn that, while you are utterly mad, I do think it could work.”

The air was growing heavier around them, Ted could sense the coils of energy twisting and cringing, but suddenly they stopped and Aurora lifted her eyes to his.  

Teddy was always surprised by her features.  They were so masculine and strong, despite the fact most of her traits came from her mother: the slope of her nose, the shape of her eyes, the wildness of her hair.  

She was, however, tall - like her father, as well as angular.  Then there was the severity of her voice; it was quite intimidating.  Not to mention her vacant, hollow stare with those otherworldly eyes and that silvery white of that mane of curls…

She was rather terrifying in her beauty, but beneath the exterior he saw the equally rare isolation she’d endured most of her life.  Isolated by who her parents were, isolated by her magic, isolated by her own insecurities.

“Wh- why do you,” Aurora hesitated.  “What makes you think it could work between him and me?”  She didn’t want to ask the question, but she needed to know all the same.

It was uncanny how similar they were.  Harry too was isolated by who he was born to be, by who he was destined to fight, by all the weight that had been hefted onto his shoulders as a child.  

Aurora was silent, her large eyes pleading, almost begging him to say more.  

He couldn’t.   Not because he didn’t want to - he truly felt she deserved to know how complicated Harry was going to make this, but it wasn’t his place to tell her.  It was his job to be her impartial sounding board, to be her ally, to be her cousin, to be her family. 

It was his job to simply be here.

Teddy recognized the need to be extremely careful with words.  He couldn’t betray Harry, but he couldn’t let his cousin sit here and stew in worry and inadequacy, especially when he fully believed Harry was being rather cowardly.  

“When I came downstairs that night, I was lost in this feeling of euphoria and just,” he searched for the right word, “absolute bliss, really.”  Aurora swallowed the lump in her throat and waited for his next words, grasping at the singed edges of her patience.  

“I thought it was just me, because, well, I was finally back with Pru and everything felt right.”  Teddy laughed softly, remembering the way he floated through the air after being with her.  “I thought it was my feelings propelling me through the house and sucking up all the air around me.

“But it wasn’t.”  Teddy looked mystified by his admittance, as if he was still trying to understand something himself.  “It wasn’t even close .  It was all coming from Harry ,” he mumbled. 

Aurora drew in a shaky breath at his words.

Then why did he leave? She pondered to herself as she leaned back into her chair to stare at the insignificant ceiling above.

Why did he leave?

***

He was good.

Aurora had to give him that, Potter was really fucking good.  

After two and half weeks of trekking through the same area of the Forest, passing the same nest of acromantula, the same mooncalf den and the same fucking tree growing Bubotubers Pus, she’d finally located the half a millimeter sized ripple on the edge of a single ward overlapping another.  

She idly wondered if the pus had been planted there before or if Harry had put it there as a deterrent from people getting too close to the shards of the Resurrection Stone. 

It smelled so bloody awful.  Aurora had to constantly cast an air cleansing charm as she worked to map out exactly how large the bubble was, surrounding the stones. 

And perhaps it was because she was so frustrated from her lack of success with this assignment.  Perhaps it was from her lack of correspondence with the fucking bastard who’d fucked her then ignored her for the next several weeks.  Whatever the case was,  she realized, it wasn’t just her parents she was angry with. 

No, it was Harry too.  

“ The Chosen One - my fucking arse,” Aurora murmured beneath her breath to no one. Sweat rolled down her back despite the fact the wind around her was savage enough to deter the massive fucking spiders from encroaching on her while she worked.  

Well, it was either that, or they were sufficiently aware that Aurora was the bigger fish in comparison, perhaps there did dwell some higher intelligence in the eight legged creatures - enough to abstain from further attack on her person, anyways.  

This was the closest to the stone she’d come in what felt like months.  Truthfully it had been only weeks, but she’d come too far.  She was not going to let anything deter her away from it now.  

The sun had set some time ago, and the subtle chittering of the mooncalves prancing about alerted her to the time - it was well past midnight, but she could not stop now.  

She cast the normal spells to map out the area around the ward - only to be deterred by the counters already in place.  She tried walking the perimeter like a muggle, only to get confused about why she was even there - a repelling charm …

For hours now, she’d been at this same spot - unwilling to leave and be forced to fight to get this close again.  

She was dirty and tired and so fucking frustrated by everything going wrong in her life - she refused to let this slip through her fingers too.  

Glancing around, taking in the eerie darkness of the forest, Aurora leaned against the mossy boulder at her back.  The earth beneath her, the cold air around her, she closed eyes - taking in a deep, cleansing breath.  

There was one way…

“No,” she whispered.  That way lay madness .  She couldn’t just…

Just…

The wheels spun with alarming clarity.  

The ripple of the wards layered upon charms, upon wards, crossing and intersecting like a boiling pot of water - bubbles growing, larger and larger, popping, their steam rising in a congenial effort to release the smell of nothing. 

Her magic wasn’t dying for release - she’d been tapping into it through the past few weeks - locating the stones, pinpointing their exact location.  Fighting off the threats of the forest and maintaining a degree of clarity and wellness enough to know when her limits had been reached each day.  

She’d been smart.  

Aurora was smart.  

She was smart and powerful and she could do this.

Maybe .

Aurora’s fingers began to flex, curling into fists then extending out as far as she could bare, over and over.  She sat a few feet from the bubble surrounding the stones.  She wasn’t clear on how wide the radius was.  She wasn’t certain how deep down his magic went into the Earth nor exactly how many layers she would need to work through.  

But she was familiar with his magic… she was familiar with his signature and his power…

Aurora stood to her feet and moved toward the edge of his wards, lifting her hands to hover along the edge, close enough to feel the energy radiating, warning, burning.  She flexed her fingers, focused on her breathing, digging down…

…down…

… further…

She centered her energy and focused the violence of her emotions.  There was that same burning, building and collapsing in on itself, far more passive at present, but still there.  Still churning and clinging to the chance she was ready to let it loose.  To let it breathe.  

Yes, she felt her mind embrace the tendrils of energy licking along her spine, through her blood, igniting her veins.  I need you now…

Breathe - breathe….  

Just like mum taught you .

Aurora spread her arms further apart, almost embracing the dome surrounding her target.  She focused on the burn, on the pull, on the ache…

Harry , she breathed in deep - unable to feel anything but him within the layers of magic around the stones.  Just like the protego in the tent, she felt him strong and familiar, as if he were standing before her himself - warm.

Despite how angry she still was with him, over leaving, over hiding, over abandoning her… She still felt the sunshine in his signature.  It was pure and steady and immutable.

He was her safety…

Her magic sizzled through her limbs and flowed through her hands, amalgamating in her palms and pouring out from her fingers.  

Her voice did not waver.  She did not whisper, she did not murmur.  Aurora held her breath for a moment before confidently calling out.  

“ Finite .”

***

Something was wrong. 

Harry all but screamed at the sudden tearing in his abdomen.  He’d been standing over his desk, pouring through a few unfinished cases for Robards when the ripping began.  He was hunched over his desk now, clutching his chest, gasping for air.  

“Kreacher,” he wheezed, his lungs squeezing tight, as if they were balloons pierced through with needles.  The word never left his lips, there was no air in his body.  

Harry reached for his wand, trying to think, trying to determine the source of the erosive fire licking up his spine and through his mind.  Everything was in flames.  

Hogwarts, the quidditch pitch, the Room of Requirement -

The bridge leading to -

The Stone !  

Someone had breached his wards around the stone.  

Harry calmed his mind, as best he could. 

Someone was after The Stone. 

The sudden inferno ripping him apart from the inside brought to the surface things Harry had laid to rest years ago.  Sixteen years - to be exact.  He’d successfully poured out everything into the wards around that bloody stone and someone was ruthlessly destroying them.  

“Damnit,” he breathed, finally able to pull in a lung of air.  He summoned his robes from the outer hall and his holster with the additional wand waiting for him.  Once the items fell into his grip he twisted on the spot to apparate to the last place on Earth he wanted to go. 

The muted creams and warm navy of Grimmauld fell away around him, mixing and colliding with whatever destructive force had been strong enough to pierce his wards.  He landed in a resounding crack that was sufficiently drowned out by the tumult being unleashed in the darkness.  

Blown apart branches of hundred year old trees, bits of wood and rock raining from the sky, and the ground, soggy and wet from the melted snow, only led to the instability of the world around him. 

At the center of the chaos, at the center of it all, was Aurora. 

Harry quickly ducked behind a boulder that seemed to have been able to withstand her destruction.  

“Aurora!”  He shouted, knowing she wouldn’t be able to hear him.  His lungs were still weak from the sudden onslaught of her attack on his enchantments and he could do nothing but watch.  

Wait and watch.  

The world shook around him as she went through one layer of his magic after another, he could feel she was close… Closer than should be possible.  

Everything was racing through his mind, everything he’d left here almost thirty years ago.  She was blasting through all of it, like a child popping bubbles as they appeared.

It was pure energy around her, unlike anything he’d ever seen.  

He was familiar with the way her mother absorbed knowledge, with the way she harnessed the wisdom in her mind.  He was familiar with the ancient line of magic flowing through her father’s veins - magic that when tapped into correctly, supplied him with unimaginable power, but this was… this was something else .  

This was beyond Dumbledore dueling Voldemort in the Department of Mysteries.  The snips of magic flying out, black tiles raining down around him.  The animalistic groans, the swell and breath of their magic fighting and struggling against each other.

This was beyond Priori Incantatem .  Beyond the rivers of light and power surrounding him as a boy - beyond the consuming, tangible current of love co-mingling with terror. The very real fabric of everything he didn’t understand finally appearing before him in the form of Voldemort. 

This was beyond The Hallows and The Horcruxes and the lore that was Harry Potter.

The fury flowing through her body, like one of those dying stars he’d studied sixth year; the power and might buried within the depths of her turning into something too magnificent and dangerous for words…  Her hair billowed around her, pure magic illuminating every section of shadow.  

Her pale skin blended into the energy branching out like delicate rays of lightening - sizzling and searching for their hold on the magic around her.  

She was dismantling his magic, his carefully constructed, painstakingly thought out disillusionments and repellants and spells woven through the fabric of this place…  She was tearing through them like tissue paper. 

Aurora was… He couldn’t breathe.

She was terrifying in the most mesmerizing and nihilistic way.  She beckoned to him, she called to him, even in the midst of her explosive display of power - her magic called to him.  

She was the most beguiling, fiercest, most cataclysmic force in this world and, Merlin help him , he couldn’t understand why’d he’d stayed away for so long.  

The wards had been thoroughly and completely destroyed, and still her magic coiled around her, growing hotter, heavier.  

How long was this sustainable?  How long could she last like that?  

Harry understood the damaging effect of wielding that sort of consuming magic, it took a toll, a hefty toll.  The only other time he’d seen this sort of magic was when he’d ‘rescued’ her from that poacher’s encampment - and he hadn’t even seen that…

But he’d seen the fallout.

The destruction, the damage…

The death. 

There was nothing left for her magic to attack - he could no longer feel his spells in place, but she continued to burn - illuminating the night.  He had to stop her - he had to … he had to do something.  

Harry threw a few stunners at her - somehow able to actually see the moment his spells dissolved before they could come into contact with her body.  

Offensive magic was out.

He couldn’t cast anything upon her, but perhaps he could physically reach her himself?  

Harry noticed the debris cascading around her, unfazed by the energy pulsing from her body - if he could perhaps get close enough…

He cast a set of protego’s around himself, doing his best to protect against whatever her magic might be shooting off, tightened his robes around him then pushed through her luminescent haze. 

The moment he took a step out from behind the boulder his defensive spells began to melt away instantly.  The blowback from her magic was beyond anything he’d ever felt.  It almost felt like being on a broom, tossed and thrown about in the midst of a wind storm.  

It was terrifying and calming all at once - being pushed and thrown like a child’s toy while also feeling cocooned in her very essence.  It was indescribable - the burning rage connecting to something deep within him - the twisting and snapping of his resolve, of his focus…

“Aurora,” he called again, the heat of her radiance peeling away his protective layers.  

But still he pushed, still he pressed - unwilling to allow whatever fate awaited her to blow through her brilliance, extinguish her light.  

“AURORA!” He yelled, all but screaming against the howl of the wind around them and the force of her magic.  

Something clicked - something pierced her focus and in a chilling instant everything stopped.  

The wind, the light ripping through him, the air burning through his ravaged lungs - it all stopped. 

Harry fell to his knees a few feet from where she stood, broken bits of rocks and trees continuing to rain down around him.  He took a breath before clutching his chest again - waiting for his heart to beat at a normal speed.  

Remnants of ash and debris fell from his shaggy locks as he pushed his hands against the wet Earth, standing to his feet.  Smoke surrounded her, billowed around her in a halo of destruction.  

She was staring at her hands, her fingers shaking.  Her silver waves hung limp and lifeless over her shoulders, damp and tired.  

She lifted her face slowly, the only sound passing between the pair of them their ragged breathing.  

“Ha-Harry…” Her voice was light - softer than he remembered.  

He took a step toward her - almost afraid to move too fast, afraid to trigger some sort of latent reaction.  

“Aurora,” his voice was soft, gentle.  He took another step, then another.  

The shaking wasn’t only in her hands, it was radiating through her entire body.  The closer he came, the clearer he saw just how her entire body trembled.  

“Rory, are you ok?”  He moved a hand toward her - her skin almost translucent, as if every ounce of magic she’d expended had left her little more than a shell of herself.  

“Harry,” she breathed out once before collapsing.  He jerked his wand in a flash and cast a leviosa quick enough to catch her and levitate her weak body into his arms.  

“Shh,” he whispered, adjusting his grip beneath her to lean her forehead against his chin.  Harry turned toward the boulder, still untouched by her magic, and walked slowly with her in his arms.  “I’ve got you.”  He pressed his lips to the exposed skin of her forehead; he didn’t like how cold her skin was.  

He took a seat on the rock, resting her weight on his lap.  He wrapped his arms around her torso and murmured into her skin again, “I’ve got you.”

Chapter Text

The low hum of a strong, male voice was the first thing she recalled.  

The sound of Harry’s voice, deep and stern in her ear, whispering warming charms and healing incantations.  Then she recalled his arms, tight and secure around her.  She was pressed against his chest, her legs entwined with his.  

Something was pulling against her hair in steady, rhythmic motions, and after a few minutes of slowly coming back to consciousness she realized it was his other hand - the one not holding her against his chest.  

Harry was stroking her hair, using wandless magic to dry her damp curls.  

“Harry,” she breathed, her voice sounding like a distant echo beneath the weight of the snow falling around them.  

No, not snow…

Ash.

“You’re alright, Aurora.”  His voice was like cold metal, strong and inflexible..  “I’ve got you.”

She felt safe, as she always did - but something was off.  The chill in his voice - layered by a thinly veiled restraint.  She stared straight ahead, unable to see anything but darkness.  

Aurora gathered her strength to push herself up.  Harry’s hold around her loosened and eventually his grip fell away.  She took in the scene around them, the destruction spiraling outward from a spot a few meters away.  

The wards. 

The Stone.

Aurora jumped to her feet, ignoring the dizziness trying to force her back down and Harry’s calls for her to wait.  She rushed through the night air past small fires still burning in a few bushes and shrubs, past ripped tree trunks and pulverized stones.  

There, in a clearing between a grouping of trees was a faint blue light emanating from, what looked like, several shards of glass.  

This was it.

She’d done it.  

She’d found The Resurrection Stone.  

She took one step toward her goal, her locator spell faint, but holding strong over the broken stone.  

“Aurora.”  

Harry.  

Fuck.  

She turned slowly to face him.  

So much time spent locating the Stone, figuring out how to break the wards, working out how to move them without succumbing to their effects, and studying how unstable they were as broken pieces… 

Not one moment spent on what she would do when the wards alerted Harry that she was here, traipsing through his past. 

Despite the lack of light, she knew how angry his green eyes were; it was the way he held himself, rigid and immovable.  She knew if he took a single step toward her she’d fall prey to his ire, she’d see his eyes clearly and feel his magic, livid and alive.  If he came any closer there would be nothing to stop her from falling apart.  

The magic, her magic , was no longer seeping through her pores, begging to be let out - for once it was silent, sleeping quietly, waiting for her strength to recoup.  There was nothing between her and the consuming current of emotion brewing in the ocean separating them.  

It was nothing but her raw emotion - anger, confusion, hurt, hunger…  

So much hunger…

“How did you do it?”  His voice was only slightly kinder than before, but she was able to detect the slight edge of wonder mixed in with his frustration

Aurora itched to move closer to the stones - the worry and stress of so many hours, the metaphorical proof that she was capable enough to handle her parent’s past only a few feet away, and yet she couldn’t move.  

How was she supposed to answer that?

“Harry - I…” her voice cracked.  She knew what he was referring to and yet she couldn’t talk about it.  Though, of everyone she knew, he might be the only person to truly understand; and if anyone deserved an answer - it was him.

“I’ve been,” her throat was dry and she felt small; conviction began to settle where there had once been nothing but resolve.  The only sound playing on repeat in her mind was her mother’s voice.  ‘You’re strong, Aurora.’  

‘You will be a force one day, my little dear.’  

‘You will do amazing things.’

“I’ve been practicing; trying to control it.”

There was an ache, deep within him that was struggling to understand.  He watched her try and explain something she didn’t fully comprehend; something she’d been struggling to understand her entire life.  

He took a few steps toward her as she continued stammering through her chaotic thoughts, he was close enough to see the moonlight illuminate her giant, lovely eyes.

The stuttering of his heart cut his breath short.

Those eyes ; those beguiling, unbearably complicated eyes… One , gentle sage - the color of moss growing along the banks of the Forbidden Forest, right before winter.  And the other , a velvety brown, the color of cinnamon sprinkled into a warm cup of tea . 

“I couldn’t find a way through the wards.  I needed to find it and… I needed to get the stone.”  The seriousness in her voice, the level of everything not being said.  There was more to this, he was positive. 

“I could,” she hesitated, blinking away what looked like tears.

Harry took another step.  “You what?”  He asked.  

Aurora sucked in deep breath.  “It was like last time, in the tent, when that,” she jerked - the memory angering her all over again.  “When that motherfucker was trying to kill you…”  Her eyes raked over his face, slowly taking in the swelling in his right cheek, the cuts over the corner of his lip and along his scar, blood already beginning to dry.  His glasses were cracked and his nose was more crooked than normal.  

This time, however, it wasn’t some fucking wanker in a top hat or a powerful muggle-born witch from Africa… It had been her - she’d hurt Harry.  

“Tell me, Aurora,” he repeated.  

She took another steadying breath.  “I could feel you, through the wards.”   She wasn’t sure how to describe it accurately… It was like before, just like before .  And the insanity of it was just as baffling now as it was then, too.  

That ability, to sense someone’s core - to know the feel of their magic, it was normal… For mated, magically bound couples.  People who theoretically shared an antiquated and outdated ‘soulmate bond’.   

And to voice it, to say it out loud - to him… 

It was old magic - a different kind of inherited magic and it had no place in her life.  It didn’t matter that she was descendant of Houses Black and Malfoy - none of that should fucking matter.

This was her life!

His gaze was dull, as if he were lost in the implications of what her words meant; she could feel his magic.  She’d been able to sense him by his signature, alone.  

Harry moved the stones to the back of his mind for a moment, trying to absorb her words; the meaning of them. 

Sensing him - that was something he had to think harder on.  Thirty years ago, he barely recalled, Hermione had made a study of the marriage laws - doing everything she could to repeal them and something she’d discovered had actually caused her to cease her efforts… something about this exact phenomenon. 

Harry shook his head, only able to think through one, rare, magical complication at a time. Despite how she’d found them and felt them, she’d been able to obliterate wards he’d used very complex and somewhat questionable methods to erect. 

And this wasn’t the first time she’d been able to cancel out his spells without her own counter, without a potion, without any assistance.  

Just her power.

“Have you told your parents?  After the first-”

Aurora scoffed, stepping away from him, breaking whatever pacified sense of calm he’d been lulling her into.  He always seemed to do that - she always let him do that.  

“Are you mad?  Of course not!  I’m not going to, ever!  You know exactly what they’d do.  Especially Mum”

“That’s not true.  You know she only wants to-”

“DO NOT say she only wants to help me!”  Aurora screamed, turning back to face him.  His thick, dark brows pulled together as he pondered this complicated woman.  Always burning, always running, always pushing.  

He looked past her at the faint light still glowing above the shards - stifling an urge to be impressed that she had in fact found them.  

“Why the stone, Aurora?” He asked, bringing the conversation back to something less volatile. 

Aurora rolled her eyes and pouted.  

“Do you even know why I have it warded, in the first place?  Did you ever stop to consider it’s dangerous?”  He motioned to the scattered remnants of something he’d wanted to leave behind and never revisit.  “This entire area,” he took a steadying breath, “is dangerous.”

“This was hardly dangerous, Harry.”

“You’ve no idea what is attached to that stone, you’ve no idea how unpredictable it is now that it's broken.  You can’t just-”

“I’m not bloody stupid, Potter!  What must I do to make you underst-”

“You’re NOT listening! ”  His voice echoed through the woods.  

She stumbled back at the very real rage radiating from him - his normal, cool demeanor sufficiently destroyed, Aurora remained quiet.  His eyes landed on  the way her upper lip, still slightly fuller than the bottom one, quivered at his forceful tone.

“Why the stone?”

Aurora opened her mouth, then closed it again - like a fish out of water - nothing but silence filling the space between them.  

“What is it going to take for you to get it, hmm ?”  Harry whispered, prompting her gaze to falter.  

She rolled her eyes, wanting to leave, wanting to walk away from his self-righteousness.  Was he going to berate her now?  For her carelessness?  Her thoughtlessness?  On everything that didn’t really matter when something was truly worth the effort?  

“Do you really care so little for your own life?”  The sadness in his voice… Aurora’s mind slowed, absorbing everything in the moment.  Harry Potter was a notoriously controlled person.  She knew he could ‘feel’, he wasn’t a dementor or something. But the lilt in his voice now…

Aurora remained quiet, watching the burden of something bigger than her, bigger than this back and forth between them, bigger than their destructive magic - something far more complicated than all of it descend upon him.  

The frigid wind crept through the barren trees, stirring flurries here and there.  The locator spell still hung faintly in the air, its pale blue light the only source of illumination in the night; shadows dancing over the planes of his face.  The scar…

His scar, appearing at the left corner of his forehead and branching out over his eye and down his cheek like an actual bolt of lightning forever seared into his flesh, seemed to come alive with each breath he took.

She could not utter a word.  

In all his darkness, in all his distress, Harry had become used to the weight of it all, the weight of who he was and what his job in this world would always be.  She stood in the presence of someone who’d known what it was to give everything; who’d been giving his everything since day one.  

Harry glanced around the clearing, no longer able to fight the memories of the last time he stood here, the stone warm and smooth in the palm of his hand.  

Everything he’d lost, everything he’d suffered and lived through, all of it… He’d buried them a long time ago, beneath layers and layers of wards and spells and a curse or two, and in the span of a few minutes Aurora had destroyed them all, annihilating everything he’d kept secret and safe.  

“I’ve told you this already,” his voice was so heavy.  “But perhaps I’ve done a poor job of making you understand.  I-I … I don’t think I'd ever be able to forgive myself if,” he turned his eyes back to hers - leveling her with the truth of his gaze.  “I’d never forgive myself if something happened to you.

“If I wasn’t fast enough or, or strong enough.”  

His dark, messy hair wavered in the cold breeze, a lock flipping over the top of his scar.  

Harry Potter: the boy who lived.

She knew the stories, she knew things she was taught and things she’d discovered.  She knew his public persona and all the tales of his exploits, his legacy of defiance. He was the Golden Gryffindor. 

The Chosen One. 

...but...

The man standing before her now...

He was no longer that boy.  This… 

This was what remained once the price of being Harry Potter had been paid.  

Guilt.

Regret. 

Exhaustion.

“And you just,” he looked away from her, squaring  his shoulders and crossing his arms over his chest.  “You just keep running into danger.  You keep doing whatever it takes to find yourself at the precipice of peril, and I -”  The way he looked at her, as if he couldn’t be any more disappointed than he already was.  “I’m not that boy anymore.  I can’t keep following you to the ends of the Earth, Aurora.”

“I’ve never asked you to,” she whispered, a thread of pride woven beneath her words. Harry looked straight into her eyes, straight into her soul and she recognized how empty the words felt, hanging there between them, echoing in the wind.  

“You’re not listening, Rory,” his jaw tensed.

“Don't call me that.”  Aurora whispered.

Harry ran his tongue over his bottom lip, the tear beginning to burn from the sudden moisture.  

He turned away quickly, shoving down the sudden urge to kiss her and instead focused on the stones.  He walked a tight circle around them, staring off into the distance a few times then turned back to her once he deemed his control sufficiently back in place.  

“Do you have any clue what it is to die , Aurora?”  He pressed a hand to his mouth, wiping his fingers down through his beard.  “Do you?”

She was silent.

“I do,” he said with a degree of finality she would and could never comprehend.  

Those two words hung like a noose around her neck - full of a certain depth she could not truly understand.

“What do you want with the stone?”  He asked once more.  “Answer me,” he moved toward her, his footsteps silent against the soft ground.  

She didn’t appreciate the tone he was taking - the expectancy he had for her to answer him.  

“I’m not going to ask again.”  His tone sent a shiver down her spine - now, whether it was fear or something else, she wasn’t certain, but what she did know was that he couldn’t talk to her like that.

“You’re not my father, Harry…  You don’t get to speak to me like this.”

“Why not?” He snapped. 

“It’s none of your fucking business!”  Her argument was weak, but that didn’t make her words any less true. 

The foreign, hollow sensation, floating through her body where her magic should be created an unsettling imbalance, causing her to feel off kilter and not herself.

She knew why he couldn’t talk to her like that, but her mouth and her brain seemed to be disconnected by a great gulf of exhaustion and Harry did not hesitate to take advantage of her silence.  

“It’s none of my business?  IT’S NONE OF MY FUCKING BUSINESS?!” He roared - the scar on his face contorting with his rage - something she’d never really seen before, at least - not directed at her…

“All of this,” he threw his hands out, gesturing to the broken trees and rocks around them, “is my fucking business, Aurora!”  He rushed her, causing her to back up until her spine met the bark of a tree.  “It’s time to wake the fuck up ,” he bit off, his warm breath hitting her skin.  “The world does not revolve around you.”

Her lips trembled as his voice floated into the soft wind around them.  She wasn’t going to cry, but his words were scathing all the same.  

“The only reason you think it does is because no one has informed you of your own insignificance in the grand scheme of things.”  

It was a knife through her heart.  Not what he was saying, because it was true.  He was absolutely right, as per fucking usual .  But, no, it was because he knew it and was rubbing her face in it, now.  

He was shining a light on her shame and it was humiliating.

Harry watched as his words settled, where he hoped they would take root.  She understood, she had to.

Her eyes, her beautiful, deceptively alluring eyes widened, one green, one brown …. he could see himself dim and a shadow in her gaze.  

He wouldn’t apologize. 

“You’re right, I’m not your father.”  He was far too close, the smell of worn leather and cedar wood overwhelming.  “But I’m quite sure we’ve already established your parents' limitations when it comes to you - quit using them as your excuse.”  

Harry’s focus shifted back toward the shards of stone, gazing around the empty space surrounding it, missing how she rolled her eyes..

“I already know the price,” her voice was full of spite.  She’d spit defiance like venom if she could - rebelling against sense and logic and everything that would keep her safe in the end.

“How can you possibly know that?”  Harry laughed without mirth.  

“What do you mean, ‘how can I possibly know’ ?  You won’t even look at me properly!  This is the first time you’ve really spoken to me since you fucked me almost a month ago!”  Harry winced but she did not stop.  

Now, this wasn’t the time to devolve into that complicated subject. 

On some level, Aurora knew this.  

Setting the stones aside, along with her rather long history of chronic, questionable decision making - there was still the fact the two of them were inexplicably drawn together - by far more than just a favor to her parents.    But here, in the middle of the Forbidden Forest, surrounded by so many ghosts - both known and unknown, was certainly not the place to discuss that.

But Aurora had never been very good at being sensible. 

“There is a price to everything I do - and despite what you and my god damn parents think, I’m well aware of the cost!  But I must press on, I must push on!  You are not the only person on this Earth that walks with tremendous weight and responsibility, Harry.”  

“You’re right!”  He shouted.  “You’re so fucking right about that, Aurora.  But unlike you, I do not use my magic as a crutch, as - as a justification to blaze through danger and gallivant through threats because I simply can't control myself!”

“Control myself?   You want to berate me for not controlling myself ?  You fucking hypocrite!”  Aurora shoved her hands into his chest, pushing him as hard as she could.  He was crowding her - accusing her and what right-

What fucking right did he have?!

“I’m not the one, no, here you are!  You are the one that decided to bring up that night and it wasn’t my-”

“You better not fucking finish that sentence Harry Potter!  Don’t you fucking dare!  It was as much your fault as it is mine!”

Harry paused, his attention jerking back to her face in such a fierce expression that all the air in her lungs seemed to evaporate within seconds.

“Is that what you thought I was going to say?  That it wasn’t my fault?  That I would even consider that night something reprehensible?  Something to regret?  Something to be ashamed of...”

A peculiar sensation ignited within him, bubbling close to the surface, something that he couldn’t keep hidden for much longer.  It was setting his soul aflame - stirring him, forcing him to feel emotions he’d been working so hard to snuff out.  

They were both out of breath, their chests rising and falling in a violent tandem, each unable to articulate accurately the desperation within their minds. 

“Well, why did you leave then?”  Her voice, benign; her question one of unease - exposing her own insecurity to him.  

“What?”

She swallowed down her nerves.  “That night… After the Nott’s party.  I woke up and you were… You were gone...”

And suddenly, it all became very clear, this wasn’t about than that fucking broken piece of rock. 

This wasn’t about The Stone, at all!

Harry swallowed down the epiphany, taking a small, hesitant step in her direction.  “Aurora…”

“I thought,” her eyes turned to the ground - it was far easier to speak honestly without seeing him; easier to pretend she wasn’t lying herself out bare before him.  “I thought after, after we were together - something changed.  I thought you finally felt it too, and… and then you were gone.”

Harry wanted to speak up, to tell her he had felt it too… but his lungs didn’t seem to want to cooperate.  

“It was just one night, Harry.  I don’t - I can’t understand why you would…”  The shaking in her voice was nearly unbearable - she was being so beautifully broken, so perfectly transparent.  His heart broke, listening to this powerful, enchanting woman lay her soul bare at his feet.  

“What is so wrong with me?  That you would just disappear?  It’s like - it’s like I don’t exist to you unless there is some modicum of danger involved or,”  she turned her eyes back to his - those beguiling eyes.  “I have no purpose unless you are fulfilling a promise to my parents…”

“That’s not true,” he whispered as his heart continued to crack at the way she doubted herself.. 

“Then why, Harry?”  She was so far away, he couldn’t stand it!  “I don’t understand… Of everyone I have known-”

“It’s not simple-”

“You are the only one that has seen me.”

“I- I can’t explain how-”

“You’re the one that has understood and has been there, and has,” her voice trailed off as his mind betrayed him - overwhelming him with feelings he’d been avoiding for some time.  “Why have you abandoned me?!”

“Because I love you!”  Harry breathed - the words finally spilling from his soul like a burst of light from his wand.  It cast a glow upon everything it touched - destroying every ounce of confusion and uncertainty.  

He could have blamed the outburst on the tense situation and the onslaught of memories combined with emotions surrounding him, in this place, but that wasn’t the truth, was it?

Aurora was silent, eyes wide - seeing everything.  

“I - I love you,” he enunciated slowly, letting the weight of his confession sink in.  “You dangerous, silly, ridiculously tiresome girl… I love you.”  An exasperated sigh escaped his lips.  

He stumbled back a few steps, landing on a log that had been ripped by her unrestrained power.  

“Merlin, I have loved you,” he said again, lost in thought.  “For some time, I think,” he murmured - trying to work it out in his befuddled brain.  

Harry turned his focus up to her - watching the way the tendrils of her hair fluttered  in the passive wind.  “And it’s - it’s impossible to breathe, impossible to, to think sometimes, when you are near.”

There was no sound but the naturally occurring ones present in the early morning hours.  

It felt like there were no other people on Earth - just the pair of them, locked in this eternal moment.  

Aurora was frozen - mouth agape, heart pounding - waiting on bated breath for his next words.

“And it’s too dangerous - it’s far too dangerous to love you,” the tenor of his voice lowered a register, the sound of it connecting to something deep in her belly - he was hiding nothing from her… This was his truth - this was his damaging and erosive truth.

“You,” Aurora fought to find her voice.  “You love me.”  he looked away, shaking his head in affirmation.  

“I can’t, I, I shouldn’t really… but I do.”  Harry leaned over, running his hands through his messy hair - trying desperately to bridge the impossibility with the reality of all this meant.  

He lifted his face and looked around the clearing, glancing past the broken pieces of the stone, to the place he stood all those years ago.   

The people he loved the most in this world, but had lost far too soon were all there - perhaps they were still here…  And now, so was she.

“Why must you try so very hard to flirt with death?”  He asked, the sound of his voice suggesting he didn’t really want an answer.  “Don’t you realize it comes for us all - far too soon, it comes for all of us.”  

Harry’s mind drifted and he wondered if Astoria would appear here now, if the Stone had still been alive, would she be standing there alongside his mother and father, between Sirius and Remus...  

But there Aurora was, in the middle of it all - fighting to be in this same place he actively fought to escape.

Desire bloomed deep in his soul for things he couldn’t have, Aurora being chief among them.

He couldn’t love anymore - he couldn’t afford the price he was always required to pay.  

Aurora moved toward him, hypnotized by his words - by the apparent sadness woven through the chords of his voice, to kneel at his feet.  Her hands slid over his knees, to rest gently on his thighs.  

It felt different, touching him like this.  

It felt familiar and perfect… like she belonged this close to him, like she had every right in the world to see him and exist with him in this moment.  

And the guilt that festered within her was enough to make her realize how very much she was hurting him.  She was constantly, continually, selfishly hurting him.

“I’m so sorry, Harry.  I didn’t - I’m sorry for being this way.”

“No,” Harry stopped her words, reaching out with both hands to cup her cheeks.  Her skin was still terribly pale and colder than it should be.  “Don’t you ever apologize for who you are.”  His thumb slid over the slope of her cheek, her skin smooth, her expressive eyes penetrating. “Not to me, not to anyone .”  His eyes flicked between hers, hoping with every fiber of his being that she was able to comprehend the magnitude of what he was saying.  

Harry was so bad with words - but he needed her to understand that.  If she understood nothing else, he needed her to grasp this simple concept.  

“You are… You are everything, Aurora.  Absolutely everything.”

She let out a breath, exasperated, exhausted.  Her fingers came up to wrap around his wrists as he cradled her face in his hands, her eyes, Merlin her eyes … They welled with tears, making their coloring blur and shimmer like that muggle painting he always forgot the name of, though it always seemed rather obvious.

“It’s just so complicated.”  Her voice broke as the darkest parts of her heart began to tumble out.  “If I weren’t like this, if I weren't so, like this, and full of this - this energy, this power, I could just…” 

She closed her eyes against the shame filling her - trying to seep out and humiliate her.  This wasn’t strong, this wasn’t brave, this was weak and small and... this wasn’t Aurora.  

Aurora didn’t fall apart.  

She took everything, all the bad and all the terrifying, all the rage and she would blend it together, allowing her magic to -  

Her heart stopped for a moment - her magic…

She used up so much of her magic on the wards and finding the stone… There was nothing left for her to fall on, for her to use to absorb all the negative emotions always compounding within her  

Her magic fed on her emotions, but there was nothing to devour them now.

She was left alone to face them, to actually have to deal with them and fuck…  She was not prepared for this.  It would take days, maybe a week or so to recoup all the energy she’d expended on tonight.  

So she had no choice but to deal.

“At first,” her voice stalled, how often was she honest with herself?  How often was she left to navigate the great expanse of her damaging feelings? 

But Harry was looking at her, just so.  He was being honest, right?  Being vulnerable?  She couldn’t run from this, not again, not now.  

“I think I just wanted to be seen - not as Hermione Granger’s daughter, not as Draco Malfoy’s daughter… and then you were there and…and-”  Her fingers tightened on his legs but she pushed through. “And then, at some point, it was about you , I just wanted you to see me… I didn’t think you could see me, Harry.”  She took a breath, “not unless, I don’t know.  I didn’t think you would see me unless…”  She was trying so desperately hard to find the right words - to make him understand.  

“In the beginning, it was about my magic - then you were always there and the more you were there, the more my magic seemed to,” warm tears began to spill from her eyes.  

Harry refused to relinquish his hold on her.  

“At some point it became about you.  It became about this need for you to see me and I-”  She couldn’t finish her thought.  “It was like my magic needed you too and it - I…” The truth was stuck in her throat - the truth that she was inadequate and foolish and horrifyingly selfish. 

Harry continued running his thumbs across her skin, seeing so much of her parents in her, and yet still only seeing all the things about her that made her so indescribably singular and inimitable. And he understood…

He understood growing up with the same expectations and the same shadow looming over him.  Everyone only ever seeing his parents, only ever seeing a prophecy, never seeing him.  He had to be different, to figure it out himself.  

He’d done a lot of things wrong before he’d done anything right and he didn’t want to do that again, not with her.  

“You don’t have to threaten your life for me to see you, love.  I already see you…”  

Aurora squeezed her eyes shut against the weight of his words, she tilted her face to rest her cheek in his palm.  “I - see - you,” he whispered, pulling her slowly against him.  

Aurora’s fingers slid up his abdomen and over his chest to grip his robes; using both hands, she pulled him down to meet her desperate lips in a tentative kiss.  

The tears fell freely, the salt mingling between their lips, as Harry explored the taste of her, the suppleness of her lips - something he’d not taken the time to do before.  She responded to each subtle tilt of his wrist, to each guiding gesture of his grip on her, following his lead, submitting to his direction.  

She tasted like everything he’d been dreaming of for the past month and so much more.  Helga help him, he was a fool to have denied himself of her.  He was a fool to have been such a coward.  

A small groan of pain fell from her lips and Harry pulled back immediately - was he being too rough?  She was still a bit inert from her magical exertion, followed quickly by her yelling.  

“What’s the matter?”  Harry searched her eyes - knowing all was not well.

“I just,” she sniffled, trying to hide her tears, but Harry would not allow it.  

“Please, Rory, tell me.”  The sound of that name falling from his lips somehow didn’t incite the same ire within her it had before.  He said it gently, carefully - as if it was sacred to him, as if she were sacred to him. 

“I don’t want you to disappear again… It’s like if I’m not reckless - you won’t be there…”

“I will always find you, Aurora.  Always.”

It was not the right thing to say.  Once the assurance left his lips her face twisted into despair, her tears coming faster and stronger.  

“No Harry… I,” she turned her face against his chest, inhaling his scent - the same scent that had grown faint on her pillow.  She didn’t want to go without it again.  “I don’t just mean like every now and then, every time I’m in trouble…”

She meant something real, something tangible, something far more difficult to explain.

His body stiffened but his arms tightened around her, nowhere near ready to let her go.   

What he feels for her is real.  He knows this - he has known this since that night.  Harry can see everything with her because she is … she is everything.  

But it’s wrong, his grip on her is stifling, the thought crosses his mind that perhaps she might not be able to breathe - but he can’t loosen his hold.  

Even though it’s wrong and it - it wouldn’t work.

It would never work.  

“We…” Aurora sniffled, a sound that sent a great swell of longing through Harry’s chest.  It sounded so gentle, so vulnerable.  “What if we did this?  Just you and me?”  She pulled away from him, but only so much to allow her a chance to see his face.  

His brows were pulled together, disappointment already brewing within his response - she could taste it.  She couldn’t let him say ‘no’.

“I could be…” How did she beg him to consider something that she too knew was ultimately wrong.  “I would be so good, Harry.”  The desperation in her voice cut through his resolve like a diffindo, eating away at the part of him that was sane and logical.  The part of him that had taken years and years to develop.  

“I know you would, love…  I know.”  His voice wavered as he pulled her to his chest again, burning his face in the waves of her hair.  “It just, it wouldn’t look-”

Her grip on him intensified.  “When have I ever cared about stuff like that?!”  Aurora did not hesitate - she felt his determination wavering.  “And besides,” she whispered - her lips so close to his ear, “no one needs to know.”

Harry took a slow, deep breath… 

Damn…

Damn every creator, founder and keeper spanning from creation to now…

Her words were unbearable, ripping through him and twisting everything into a painful, pleasurable , heavy need for more.  

“It’s just you and me,” she pleaded.  “Just you and me, Harry.”  The softness of her body, the warmth beginning to reappear in her skin; he was falling apart, porcelain in her hands.  

There was not much he could say.  It was still wrong - she was still his best friend’s daughter and, and…

And a litany of other things that would make this impossible.  

He had to push her away - it was the right thing to do.  

It was! 

Until she spoke again and challenged everything he'd built his adulthood on.

“Haven’t you given enough?”  Her words echoed through his mind, bouncing against every damaged nerve, every stunted emotion, every mirror of inadequacy.  They barreled through  every fear of inability, against all the darkness and undecipherable, unhealed trauma that never, ever went away.  

Haven’t you given enough?  

Harry fell through time, back to a moment he’d been so caught up in the fight he’d never seen how much he’d been steered , how far he’d been led.

“I don’t care!”  He’d yelled at them, snatching up a, what had it been?  A lunascope and throwing it into the fireplace.  “I’ve had enough, I’ve seen enough, I want out, I want it to end, I don’t care anymore!”  

“You do care,” Dumbledore had said…  He’d been unmoving, unflinching, not making a single move to stop him from demolishing his office.  His expression, ever so calm, ever so calculating, remained detached.  “You care so much you feel as though you will bleed to death with the pain of it.”

Whether Dumbledore had truly believed that or had just been trying to further guide Harry to a predetermined end - the truth still remained.  He had cared so much, so hard, for so long - that he had all but bled to death with the pain of everything. 

Hadn’t he given more than enough?

He’d given everything …

His hold on Aurora loosened, allowing him to look her in the eye once more.

“And you would stay safe?”  It would mean nothing, to give in and break the rules - to only lose her in the end.  “No more recklessness…?  No more, no more Zabini and-”

“I swear it,” she yelled - too wound up at the possibility of him saying ‘yes’ to feel insecure.  Harry’s cheeks split into an instant smile, unable and unwilling to hide how very happy she made him.  

“Just you and me?”  Her voice was hopeful, his gaze moved between her eyes and her lips.  She smiled, a slow, creeping one that took over the angles of her face.  

“Just you and me,” he replied, pulling her back against him, settling his lips across hers.  

There was no recourse this time, no hesitancy.  

This time there was no reason to stop or pull away, so Harry wrapped his arms around her, slipping his fingers up through her thick mane, his muscles relaxing into the feel of her safe and secure against him. 

Where she belonged.   

“Hang on,” he whispered into her lips, cradling her against his body with one arm and reaching for his wand with the other.  

The only sound that remained was a surprised laugh falling from her lips as Harry disapparated, landing them back at the last place he felt truly at peace. 

Chapter Text

They landed with a soft pop in the middle of her bedroom; the scent of white roses and green apples filled the air.   

Aurora was disoriented by the sudden familiarity surrounding her.  

He’d brought them back to the cottage, straight to her bedroom…  She was confused about what was supposed to happen now - now that she knew how he truly felt.  

His hand slid up her spine to cup the back of her neck, pulling her face to his. An elongated moan of contentment spilled from her body as his tongue slid gracefully against hers, deepening the kiss to something far more sensual. 

Fuck, how was this happening?  How was this man here, touching her?  Kissing her?  Loving her?

Her skin was set ablaze where his fingers roamed.  Every time he nipped at her bottom lip, each time a bead of sweat skimmed down the length of her back, each time the scent of him, cedarwood and smoke, filled her senses, her heart quickened in pace - a vicious violence which she could not stop.  

Her legs grew weaker each time a hungry growl emanated from his chest. 

Every poignant gasp, every harsh groan, every whispered ‘fuck’ sent a jolt of need straight to her core and Aurora realized she would do whatever was necessary to continue pulling these sounds from him.  

“Harry,” she whispered when their lips broke apart.  He wasted no time waiting for her to finish her thought, he simply continued running his lips over her cheek and down her jaw to the sensitive flesh at the base of her neck.  “Oh, fuck , let me just-” she moaned.

“Shhh,” he breathed against her skin.  “Let me,” he said before gently sucking the spot above her collarbone.  “I haven’t stopped thinking of you, love.”  His lips moved  over her chest and back up to her jaw.  “Merlin, I haven’t stopped dreaming of you.”

Harry slid his arms around her waist and up her back, his palms spread out to cover the expanse of her slender frame.  

“So delicate,” his lips never strayed an inch from her skin.  “So precious, and yet you are the epitome of power.”  His mouth grazed across the curves of her body then back to her face.  “So powerful, you are, love.”

She leaned into the kiss, lost in the effects of his voice, lost in the admiration filling his words, lost in the way he called her ‘love’ .  Could it be true?  Really?  

Love.  

On a sigh, with his lips caressing each letter as they left his mouth -  L O V E. 

“Harry…” she pulled away for just a moment, the soft light of her room bringing into focus the damage she’d wrought.  His face was covered in gashes; blood, fresh rips along the length of his famous scar. His lip was split and his nose broken.  

He’d braved her at her most destructive - he’d found her at the point of combustion and he… He’d loved her regardless.

Harry loved her.

“Your face,” she whispered, trying to stave off the guilt pushing against her heart.  She cupped his cheeks, careful not to worsen his condition.

“I’m alright,” he said, wrapping her fingers in his hands and pulling them to his lips.  “I’m certain I’ve looked far worse, I assure you.”  Aurora smiled at the way he cradled her hands, at the sly smirk playing across his lips. 

She nodded, sure he was right, sure there was plenty she didn’t know - but she couldn’t, wouldn’t abide him downplaying his injuries, to assuage her guilt..  

“Let me,” she said - the words becoming so much more in that small moment than anything else she could have said. “Please.”

Aurora twisted her hand to grab hold of his, and turned toward the washroom; pulling him along behind her.  

The room could have been expanded - that would have been more sensible, to make room for the overly large clawfoot bath along the back wall, the elegant pedestal sink and a toilet in between.  

There was little to no room for the pair of them, but Harry followed her silent direction and sat on the edge of the clean, white tub and watched her close the lid of the commode to take a seat herself.  

She summoned a beaded bag to her lap and accio’d a few potions from within the small pouch, missing Harry’s wistful smile.  It wasn’t the same one he’d been familiar with once upon a time - but it made sense that she would have one too.

Aurora handed him potion after potion before touching the edge of his cheek to check that the tear was sealed. She then pulled his glasses from their perch on his crooked nose and lowered her voice to a gentle whisper.

“Episkey,” she twisted her wand slightly, barely moving at all.  He wondered how long it had taken her to master that particular spell.  He didn’t feel a sudden pinching ache nor did it feel as if his nose was going to leak an obscene amount of blood.  

He tried not to be impressed but Episkey was a complex spell to enact without side effects - and hers was flawless. 

Harry felt silly, being so enamored with her spell work, but it was undeniable how much it affected him - her skill.

Her power.  The image of her body glowing, billowing in the forest… 

Merlin.

She cast a quick repairo on his glasses and instead of returning them to his face she sat them on the edge of her sink.  She missed the slow perusal of his eyes as her wand wound through the air; such precision. 

The light in the room was bright, far brighter than in her bedroom and significantly more jarring than the light of the moon.  

Here, Harry was able to make out the details of her face, here he was able to follow the curve of her lips as she muttered her spells and the delicate, almost silver smattering of freckles across her nose as she focused on her movements.  His mouth watered with each flutter of her dark lashes and twist of her wrist.

And she wanted him, this powerful, amazing, vibrant woman wanted him …

She looked up to him expectantly, waiting for an answer which he did not have.

Had she been speaking?

“Oh, perhaps I gave you too much Wiggenweld,” she pulled the vial from his hand to check her messy scrawl on the glass.  

Harry, half in a dream, plucked the tiny bottle back out of her hand and tossed it to the rubbish bin before leaning forward to grab her.   

“Come here,” he said, pulling her to stand between his legs.  

Her wild waves fell around her face as she gazed down at him, his arms slowly circling around her waist, slowly sliding up the length of her back, slowly bringing her in closer and closer to his chest.  

Aurora was quiet, calm, a faint tint of pink crept along the length of her neck and her cheeks.  

She raised a finger to glide over his nose as a look of pride lifted her cheeks into a tender smile.  “Much better, Mr. Potter,” she said softly, before tucking a portion of her curls behind her ear.  

Harry couldn’t break the hold she had on him - the smile in her eyes, the smile on her lips, the smile radiating through her body.  It was everywhere, in the way she was quiet and the way she waited for him to make the next move. 

It was the way her fingers lingered, and the tilt of her hip, and…

It was her.  

It was Aurora.

He took a deep breath.

There was nothing in this entire world that felt so perfect and pure as holding her right there, in her tiny washroom, his chin resting on her belly - the cool skin of her back slowly warming beneath his touch.  

“Say something,” she whispered, her long fingers sliding through his messy hair, the sensation of her nails gently grazing his scalp sending him to another dimension.  His eyelids were heavy, his jaw went slack on one side and some sort of guttural groan resonated deep in his chest - completely involuntary.  

“I can’t when you touch me like that,” Harry whispered.  

She giggled: a tinkling, light sound.  

“Like this…?” She asked playfully before running her fingers through again, this time all the way down the back of his scalp, and rubbing a single circle at the base of his neck with her thumbs.  

“Fuck, Aurora…” he sighed, feeling everything inside his body tighten.  “Yes.”

“Mmm,” she moaned at the way his body reacted to her touch.  “And, what about like this?”  She slid her fingers back up his scalp, through his dirty, singed hair and began to massage the crown of his head. 

He sucked in a harsh breath, his eyes rolling to the back of his skull at the sharp sensations ricocheting through his body - he could feel the movement of her fingers in his toes.   

Harry tried to tilt his head back upright and fixed his focus on her body in front of him.  Her blouse was tight across her chest, he’d bunching the fabric in grip unintentionally.  She wore nothing beneath her shirt causing his mouth to water at the outline of her lovely breasts, free and inviting.  

She leaned over him to grind her hands harder into his skull causing the light scent of roses to burst through the scent of ash and earth still coating her skin.

Harry, unable to stop himself, gripped her hips harder before tenderly pushed her away as he stood. The tightness in his trousers was unable to be helped at this point.  

“It would be safe to assume that I will have trouble doing anything of importance, when you are touching me, love.”  

His smile was roguish and sly as his hands lowered from her back to the impeccable curve of her arse.  “Anything?” She asked coyly.

Harry’s grin widened before he waved a hand at the shower to wandlessly turn it on.  Using his other hand he closed the door, closing them in the offensively bright, tiny room.    

Aurora felt slightly self-conscious - despite the fact they’d been very intimate already.  It was different now, in the small, bright space.  After he’d seen her at her worst, after he knew how needy and desperate she was.  But despite that - despite the tether of her insecurities - he loved her. 

Harry Potter loved her.  

“Anything,” he confirmed, moving in to plant a kiss to her lips.  It was meant to be something sweet to cement their quiet flirtation, but when he pulled his face away, something kept him hovering close to her face.  

Be it the look in her eyes, or the slight pull of her dark brows - a hint of sadness threatening to come forth, Harry leaned in again - slower this time.  

Settling his lips against hers in an unhurried pace.  

Nothing else mattered - he wasn’t going to let anything else matter - not at this precise moment. Harry moved his hands from her bum to the hem of her shirt, running his fingers along the stretch of skin just above the waistband of her trousers.  

Her long, toned arms went up above her head and they broke apart for only a moment. Allowing Harry to react on instinct and pull the dirty, burnt fabric up and off her body.  The second the material hit the floor, she was back to pressing herself against him, allowing his arms to circle around her.  

The rough set of his palms roamed the stretch of her unbearably smooth skin.  

“Harry,” she murmured as he fell back into the kiss with her.  The heat from the shower was more than inviting and unable to spend a moment away from her lips, Harry vanished the rest of their clothing.  

They were of one mind, their tongues dancing across each other in a primitive way neither of them had to think about.  It was instinct, a cognitive sort of harmony that resulted in the pair of them pulling each other in closer, harder, more painstakingly...  

Neither wanted to lose a moment. 

Neither wanted to waste a second.  

They stepped into the tub together, Aurora reached behind him to yank the curtain closed and they continued on in that same vein; an erotic game of give and take.

Harry’s lips demanded more as Aurora poured everything she was into his need.  Her grasp on him grew vice-like as Harry submitted to the urging of her desire.  

Their bodies were entwined beneath the rush of warm water, the clean aroma of apples and soap filling the air - it was stupefying.  

He was so, Merlin , he was so hard - but he couldn’t bare to stop the connection passing between them long enough to actually quell the swelling ache.  She felt perfect against him, just like this, her naked body warm and inviting, her hold on him unrelenting. 

Harry found the resolve, somehow, to bring their kiss to a tender close.  

Her cheeks were sufficiently pink, her lips a proper shade of ravaged and Harry was helpless.  

“I could spend forever doing this,” he said breathlessly, watching the rivers of water cascade down her face and across her skin.  Her hair resembled tarnished silver beneath the spray of the shower, matching her dark brows and lashes.  

“I don’t think so, Potter,” Aurora wrapped her arms around his neck, balancing her weight before lifting her right leg to wrap around his hip.  

Her height meant that his hard length was poised right at her core, waiting for just the right twist of her hips, for just the right movement to lodge himself inside her. 

Inside that fucking heat he’d been thinking about for a month now.  

“Fuck, Aurora,” he gasped, knowing the wet heat pressing against him was not from the shower above.  

He sounded desperate - he sounded like he was on the edge and it did things to her ego.  In his green eyes she found the hunger of a starved man - a man at the very edge of restraint.  

She’d never seen anything so fucking beautiful.  

Aurora‘s arms tightened around his strong shoulders, pressing their bodies together firmly, nothing to come between them now.  The lingering smell of fire, wind and damp earth, still clinging to their skin began to fall away leaving only the comforting aroma of this moment..

“Take me Harry,” she pinched the bottom of his chin, angling his face, forcing him to look up to her..  “Take me now,” she planted a gentle kiss against his lips - barely brushing her skin across his.  

There were still remnants of dried debris and mud on his broken skin; evidence of his devotion to her.  The thrum of blood in her veins began to heat - his concern for her had been stronger than his need to survive.  His love for her outweighed any fear he may have had.  He’d fought through her power to get to her, to stop her, to help her.  

“Take me,” she repeated - her voice taking on a desperation he couldn’t help but adore.  

Harry reacted - snapping his hips against hers - sliding into her in one powerful thrust.  

“Oh!”  Aurora cried out - the girth of him taking her breath away.  It didn’t hurt - it was just so much.  

Harry paused for a moment - not able to move too fast, not yet .  He had the propensity to blow at any moment.  That’s how tight she was. 

That’s how right she was.  

Perfect, so bloody perfect…

“Oh gods,” she breathed again, pulling her hips back slowly.  So fucking slowly, Harry thought he might weep from the sensation.  

It was only a moment of the pair of them catching their breath beneath the comforting spray of the shower before she was pushing herself back down onto him, burying him in her depths.  

“Aurora,” his voice quivered, as he looked down, watching her pull herself off of him, then back onto him, watching her fuck him, slow and rough at the same time.  “Fuck, Rory,” his grip tightened on her hips as he leaned his head back to try and mentally slow the tightening and coiling of his hunger.  Each movement, each stroke, he thought he might explode at any moment.  

She was moaning something unintelligible, one hand carelessly slung over his shoulder and the other gripping the curtain rod above. Harry couldn’t hear over the rush of blood - this wasn’t going to last - he wasn’t going to last.  

Fuck, fuck, fuck… She felt so fucking good - she was…

She was taking him, she was taking him!

Look how well she takes you…

“Fuck,” Harry yelled, almost cried , his orgasm hit him so hard he had to grab ahold of the rod above too.  “Fuck, oh - oh god damn,” his other hand squeezed into the curve of her arse - holding on for dear life.  

Everything - everything he had - everything drained from his body - pouring into her, filling her, causing him to convulse at the idea of her dripping with him.  

“Holy shit,” he panted, her arms coming up around his, holding him close to her as she lowered her leg back down to the ground.  

There was a temporal displacement, a massive chasm between his brain and his spinal cord - he couldn’t entirely wrap his mind around how hard he’d just…

“Aurora,” Harry tried to right himself, his muscles still seizing.  “Gods, Aurora, I’m so sorry…” Harry loosened his grip on the rod above and put his hands on her hips, trying to push his chest away.  

Aurora giggled, the sensation of which he felt as he was still secure inside her.  

“Oh darling, if you only knew how much of a compliment I consider that.” Her hands were moving across his back, as the overload of sensations bouncing through his limbs slowed.  

She pressed her lips to his neck before moving them to his ear.  “To know that my cunt is enough to break Harry Potter’ s control… Mmm, I will go down in infamy, I’m sure.”  

He could feel her lips smile against his skin.

His cock twitched inside her.  

“Fuck,” he gasped, still not entirely able to breathe from the force of his release.  “You… You shouldn’t say things like that,” he stuttered - his brain still mostly rotted.  

“You’re right,” she smiled, before sliding off of him and dropping to her knees.  

Harry wasn’t ready - he - he couldn’t be ready.  “Holy fucking Helga,” he let out on a desperate plea.  

“I shouldn’t say things like that until I’ve adequately exhausted your control; until then it’s just an assumption, and I’m nothing if not thorough.”  

It was a long time before either of them emerged from the small washroom. 

***

She was asleep on his chest, her face smushed in the same fashion it had been before.  

The chaotic disorder of her hair was breathtaking.  The pinkish hue still filling her cheeks was devastating.  The slight part in her lips, from which a light snore emanated, undid him.  

Harry was unwell. 

He was utterly and completely besotted and …

And there was no turning back.  

She’d fallen asleep after their third round; a delightful foray into something called reverse cowgirl?  Something with which Harry was not familiar, but found very enjoyable nonetheless.

He’d given into her at every turn, in every demand, both verbal and non, Harry had laid it all down at her feet.  She’d controlled the entirety of their evening and he was unable to come up with a reason why he should stop.  

Too much had come out last night, too much had passed between them and, to be honest, Harry had no desire to stop.    

Aurora saw him in a way he’d not felt seen before, ever. 

Ginny had loved a boy, headstrong and foolish, full of a self-sacrificing determination to serve and protect at the expense of all else.  It had been consuming and young - but it was different.

Astoria had loved the broken pieces of that same boy.  She’d loved him back to peace, back to normal, back to some semblance of life.  She’d loved him in the dark and through the pain… She had loved him into adulthood - helping to heal and grow.  That love had given birth to his family, to his daughter, and as perfect, as beautiful as that rendition of love was - it was still different.  

Aurora.   This thing with Aurora… 

He’d tried to reason that it was just lust, that it was the result of the numerous times they’d been on the brink of death, together, caught up in the fray… But it was more than that - he could feel it in his soul…

Harry wasn’t sure if she loved him or not.  She’d never said it back - he hadn’t given her a chance to say it back, but somehow it didn’t really seem to matter.  

He knew her on a cellular level that was hard to explain.  He felt how much she needed him - it matched the same fervent need that pulsed deep inside him.

It was hard to articulate into words… it was like, somehow, his soul just knew hers.  

The parts of him that were jagged and rough from all the loss - the parts he’d had to shave off and break into pieces and give away… She fit to him - pushing her jagged edges to his and fitting to him like missing pieces of a puzzle.  

There was so much about her he didn’t know and yet it didn’t seem to matter - it was inconsequential. 

It didn’t matter because he knew, deep down in the basic elements that made him who he was, he knew she was meant for him.

Made for him, and he for her.

A chill swept across his skin, a sense of acknowledgment that come way may, he would not walk away - not again.  

He pulled her closer, pressing his lips to the slope of her parted lips - not really kissing her, just wanting to be near her.  His nose slid across the length of hers, his fingers winding back around her perfectly curved hips. 

“Mmmm,” she groaned, a satiated grin spreading across her cheeks.  “Mr. Potter, how are you awake?”

Harry chuckled, pressing his face between hers and the pillow, enjoying the weight of her pressed against him.  

“You cannot know how absolutely enticing you are…”

Aurora stirred to life further, intrigued by his words.  “Perhaps you should tell me,” she smiled, pulling herself on top of him, settling her long legs between his; enjoying the feel of his warm skin beneath hers.   

His fingers slowly skimmed down the length of her body , then slid back up again.  He’d never been partial to any specific part of a woman’s body before - but the length of her spine, the expanse of her smooth skin… Harry wanted to run his lips down that stretch of flesh - with daylight filtering through the windows.

“Goodness, well,” he began.  “There’s the sound of your voice; like you know a naughty secret, but will only tell me if I promise to tell you one of mine…”

Aurora laughed.  “My voice is naughty and transactional?” 

“No,” Harry smiled, thinking for a moment.  “You just have a way of speaking - of drawing people in, of making them want to hear more.  Of making me want to hear more… 

“Sometimes, when you speak, my train of thought gets hijacked and I’m left in a dangerous predicament.”

“Oh dear,” she murmured, pulling herself further up his chest.  “And where does this hijacked train of thought take you?”  Aurora leaned down to kiss him gently, her hands splaying out across his chest, pushing through the smattering of hair there.  

Harry wasn’t very broad, but he was sturdy beneath her, wide and strong - Aurora’s skin tingled along his; a fluttering filled her chest as she ran her fingers over his body.  Still amazed that he was here, still amazed that after everything she’d put him through, especially the past twenty-four hours-

Her blood ran cold, instantly hardening her muscles against his body.  

“What is it?  Aurora, what’s wrong?”

Everything flooded her mind at once: Zabini, the stone, Freddy, the coven.

“Harry, the - the stone!  I’m not - I was supposed to…”  She tried to lift herself up and off of him.  “We just left them there, without the wards.  Oh gods!  What if-”

“Aurora, shh, calm-”  Harry was pulling her back to his chest as she continued to push him away. 

“No, they’re all looking for them.”  She was able to get one leg to the ground, completely exposing her naked sex as she moved to get off the bed.  

Harry smiled, “I’ve already taken care of them!”  His hold around her was ironclad, his fingers digging into her hips. Aurora hesitated, turning her face back to his, her heart slowing back to a normal pace.  

“You…” she breathed.

“...already took care of them.”  His eyes were bright - a mystic green, clear and easily visible without his glasses in the way.  

His cheeks lifted as the information rolled around in her brain, and her muscles began to relax, incrementally.  

“After you, deservedly and understandably, passed out a few hours ago, I apparated back and reset some of the wards.”  Harry began to pull her back down onto him.  He cupped the back of her neck and pulled her towards his face, taking a deep breath the moment his nose came into contact with her thick hair.  

“They won’t last forever, but long enough…” he whispered, sending a slow, lazy shiver through her body.  

“Mmmm, gods,” she groaned so sweetly as her body responded to his direction.  “Long enough for what?” She sighed. 

Harry ran both of his hands up and down the lines of her body, past her hips and to the backs of her thighs.  With slow, deliberate movements, he pulled her legs apart, placing one knee on either side of his hips.  

“Long enough to show you the depravity of my hijacked thoughts,” he whispered against her neck before attaching his lips.  

“Oh, fucking Salazar, show me, please,” she pleaded.

“Of course, love,” Harry said into that sweet spot where he could feel her pulse quicken.  “Hold onto me.”

Her body was sore. Her mind raced after the stones and everything that still needed to be done to secure them, but when… fuck … when he kissed her like this and, and he moved like that…

Harry was grinding himself against her sex - her sensitive core that had been thoroughly used only hours ago.

Thoroughly ravaged and spent and, Gods, it wasn’t enough. 

Harry flipped her onto her back - pressing his length harder against her.  

She didn’t like to be teased - she hated the bud of lingering anticipation, and Harry did not disappoint.  The moment she was on her back, properly pinned beneath him, he reached down to pull one of her gorgeous, toned legs up to rest on his shoulder.  

In one swift move, in one impressive twist, he was back inside her - filling her - stretching her.  

The thought occurred to her, as he wasted no time beginning his conquest, that she should be used to the size of him, she should be adequately ready for him - but fuck… The way he pulled her apart as he moved his hips, Aurora let go of what she thought she knew.  

“Bloody hell, my love,” he groaned, after bottoming out again and again.  “Shit, I can hardly stand it - you’re so fucking perfect.”

Aurora’s mouth opened, she tried to say something sexy, something that would make him lose his control, but he’d stopped her by pressing a harsh, open mouthed kiss to her lips, swallowing down every syllable of what she wanted to say. 

“I can’t,” he breathed against her lips.  “Please, you can’t speak.. You’re - you, fuck,” he pumped in and out of her for a few moments, his hips picking up speed.  Her brain turned quickly to mush.  

“You undo me every time - every time I hear your voice,” thrust.  “Every time I hear the maddening sound,” thrust   “You embed yourself inside my mind,” thrust.   “You destroy me from the inside out,” sharp thrust. 

“Harry,” she groaned, lost in the symphony of his words co-mingling with each heady breath.  He didn’t fucking stop, not once, to accommodate what he was trying to say.  They were entering a different type of intimacy… something far more basic and primitive.  

He was feral.

“... have to show you…”  he pleaded into her skin.  “... need to show you…” His words were jumbled together, making just enough sense for her to understand.  

She’d taken so much from him last night, she’d taken and taken and taken and now…  

Now it was Harry’s turn - she had to be good for him.  

Aurora relaxed her body as best she could, certain muscles unable or unwilling to obey due to the way he was wringing pleasure from her with each word, each mindless thrust.  It was beyond him now, his need.  He was just an animal, needing her - taking from her.  

The burn was beginning to vibrate through her body - her magic, exhausted from the night before and everything that had happened since the Forbidden Forest, coiled within her - tight.  

“Fuck…” her voice was buried beneath the strain of what he was doing to her and she couldn’t help but almost cry the expletive… She was going to come - she was going to come again, all over him, for the sixth time, in less than twenty-four hours.  

“That’s it,” Harry growled, feeling her walls quiver around him.  “Oh, that’s it, my girl,” a bead of sweat fell from his forehead onto her chest as he continued rocketing into her.  “Fuck, just like that,” he groaned.

Aurora couldn’t hold it back any longer - she couldn’t stop it, it was a chariot, hurling through the night - dangerous and emblazoned with all manner of decadence, racing through her body, her exhausted, worn out body.  She stiffened to the point she might break in half, but Harry - always so mindful - leaned over her to wrap his arms around her back, and pulled her up, holding her face to face. 

His magnificent eyes pierced through her, calling out to something that neither of them really knew existed.  

“Stay with me,” he ordered - and what felt like cords of power and light begin to bind the pair of them, warm and hot, winding tight around the couple.  Aurora panted, losing her balance and beginning to slip back down until his arms slid up her back again and around her shoulders to keep her steady against his chest as he continued his dangerous pace.  

“Stay with me,” he whispered into her ear.  

There was no energy for words, no breath left to respond.  She couldn’t formulate a coherent thought save for a single word; a simple reassurance.

“Always.”

***

What had Shakespeare said?  

‘All that glisters is not gold, often have you heard that told.’

The problem with that concept was that unless one was paranoid, at all times , one might be tempted to believe in the beauty surrounding them.  And wasn’t that exactly what she was doing?  Leaning into the beauty of her life at this particular moment? 

There was nothing wrong with accepting good things as they came. She was being sensible and working hard to keep the promises she’d made… to stop the carelessness, the recklessness.

Aurora glanced over her parchment once more, reviewing her answers.  A tender, creeping sensation, like her burning magic - only softer, filled her belly and she felt right.  

She signed her name at the bottom of the page and watched as the final step of her application process magically disappeared.  

The goblin seated across the room perked up upon receiving her final forms.  “That will be all, Ms. Malfoy, you are free to go,” he said.  She hesitated before rising to leave, staring at the wiry hair on the goblin’s head - he spared not a single glance her way.  She wondered if he would give anything away, any hint as to what her chances were - but the wrinkly, little creature remained busy filing her papers away. 

That was ok.

With each step she took out of the bowels of Gringotts, another layer of anxiety lifted from her shoulders.  

All of her studying and preparations over the past six weeks melted away and by the time she reached magnificent golden, in-laid doors, she felt ready for whatever came next.

Confidence radiated off of her the same way her dangerous energy used to.  Her cheeks were sore from the perpetual smile she’d been holding, and a sense of clarity warming her, propelling her through the November streets of Diagon Alley.  

Things were well.

Things were… they were fucking perfect ; glistering bright and shiny.  

Her magic purred like her mum’s old kneazle, heavy and loud, in the back of her mind - content, satisfied, tranquil. 

Six weeks of Harry Potter seemed to be the trick.  

Aurora smiled to herself, the light, gooey sensation filling her chest at the thought of him.  

Six weeks - six fucking weeks of stolen moments here and unbridled passion there.  Always at the cottage and always, always when one of them couldn’t contain the burning of their magics’ need any longer - which was often.  Their need for each other seemed to outweigh everything else and for the first time that she could recall, she felt complete.

Whole. 

Happy. 

Her emotions were being carried on golden chariots through lyrical landscapes and mists of desire and for this single moment, she felt as if she were right where she belonged.  She felt like she was finally living her life, not in service to her magic , but in service to herself, which she hadn’t known could be two very separate things.   

She’d done it!  She was going to keep her promise to Harry but still do something to keep her magic pacified.  She was going to be sensible and respectable and she had done it all herself.  

She hadn’t relied on her name or her fortune or her blessed birthright… 

She’d done it.

She was going to be a cursebreaker.  

Aurora was on her way to meet Teddy and Pru for a celebratory lunch. 

It occurred to her that she’d been rather negligent of her cousin and her best friend for the past several weeks.  Teddy had quietly taken up residence at Pru’s flat - allowing Aurora and Harry the privacy they required to continue enjoying their perfect bubble.

Her heartbeat quickened, filling her body with an anticipatory energy.  She couldn’t wait to see Teddy and Pru - to tell them how confident she felt about Gringotts. 

Aurora’s mind wondered beyond that - hope branching out to ponder who else she could share this news with.  

There was the anniversary dinner for her parents this evening, at Granny Cissa’s…

Perhaps she could tell them about it.  

The thought sent a thrill through her - igniting her from the inside out.

Things had been rather tense between her and her parents since the last time they’d been together, but this would fix things; this would be the beginning of a new, fresh start.  

Aurora wouldn’t, however, think about the Harry subject just yet - that tricky topic would come about when it needed to.  Her smile widened as she continued on her way.

Until the proper moment presented itself, they would remain a secret, just the two of them…

Her perfect secret.  

She rounded a corner, the harsh wind picking up and forcing a wave of snow to swirl around her.  The frigid air sent an involuntary spasm through her body, resulting in an unsuccessful attempt to hide away from the onslaught of freezing moisture.  She turned a shoulder against the overwhelming current and fell right into the path of someone she wasn’t entirely prepared to see. 

“Jaymes!”  Aurora tried to jump out of the young girl's way, but had no extra room to do so, resulting in an unavoidable collision. 

“Ms. Malfoy!”  

The two witches lost their balance and both ended up on the ground, Aurora in far less of a predicament than her counterpart.  The bags and packages in the girl's arms were now sufficiently scattered across the pavement as she lay on the cobblestone street. 

“Oh, gods, are you alright?” Aurora leaned over her, casting a quick spell to right her belongings then casting another charm to levitate them off the ground.  “Are you hurt?”

Of course, she thought , of course this would be who she practically ran off the sidewalk! 

“Oh, I’m alright,” Jaymes said before getting to her feet, taking the hand Aurora offered her.  Her cheeks turned a precious shade of pink as she brushed off the snow and dirt from her clothes, righting herself once more.

“Gods, I’m so sorry.  The wind was all but shoving me into the building and I couldn’t handle the sudden arctic blast, anyway…”  Jaymes smiled at her, patiently waiting for her to finish blabbering before she spoke.  

Such good manners.  

Aurora’s own cheeks reddened in the presence of the young girl and her effortless grace.

“It’s perfectly alright, Ms. Malfoy.  Are you ok?”  Her green eyes, the same beautiful shade as her fathers, were shining up at her despite the dreary, overcast weather around them.  

How was she so lovely?

“I’m completely fine, doll.  And please, call me Aurora.”  

Jaymes smiled, such an easy, charming twist of her lips.  Aurora was able to see a little bit of Harry in the way her cheeks lifted, but the vast majority of the young witch was far too elegant and fine - despite the grungy, muggle attire she hid beneath.  It was obvious to anyone with a brain that Jaymes favored her Greengrass roots..

She giggled uncomfortably, “I’ll try, Ms. Aurora.”   

Aurora needed to go, to meet Teddy and Pru, but, for some reason, it didn’t seem right to just leave Jaymes to do so.  At least, not before she knew she was ok and if she were able to make it home with her purchases.  

“You have quite a stack here, is all this yours?”  Aurora motioned to the levitating packages next to them.  

“Well, I have a small break this weekend and I wanted to try and get my Christmas shopping done before the first of December, before all the good stuff is marked up.”

Aurora smiled. 

Practical, smart, Ravenclaw.

“I definitely understand.  I have a terrible time with my shopping because I always wait until the absolute last minute.”  

Jaymes laughed.  “My dad does that too!”  Aurora swallowed her unease quickly before letting her boyfriend’s daughter see. 

“Could the stores not forward your packages to your home for you?”  

“Oh, they can, but, I didn’t want a notification to be sent to my dad and since the wards on the house are so complex I thought it might be easier for me to just take them myself.” 

“You were going to apparate all these back with you?”  Aurora looked at the stack then back at the witch.  She was the daughter of Harry Potter - surely she was able to accomplish such a feat, but still - Grimmauld was quite a far jump with so many items in tow.  

“Oh, no, I was going to floo; the nearest one is only about a kilometer or so from here.”  She began gathering her items, plucking them from the air to carry.  Why didn’t she levitate them?   Wasn’t she seventeen?  She was no longer underage… 

“You wouldn’t want to just apparate?  It’s far quicker…”  

Jaymes paused for a brief moment before grabbing the final parcel and coiling her fingers through the twine. 

“I, um, don’t really apparate,” she said, turning her face toward the ground in embarrassment. 

“Oh.”

“It’s not that I don’t know how!”  Jaymes piped up quickly, assuring Aurora she was not deficient in any way.  “Because I do… I just don’t.”

Aurora watched the glint in her eyes deepen.  Her thick, perfectly maintained eyebrows drew together, as her cheeks darkened.  

Was she abstaining?  From using Magic?

Interesting.

“Nothing to be worried about, doll.  Would you like me to help you get home?”  Aurora felt uncomfortable - but she couldn’t rightly leave the poor dear to carry everything for the next few miles in this ridiculous cold. 

“Oh, no, Ms. Aurora, I couldn’t impose-”

Aurora halted the girl’s objections by reaching forward to grab a few of her bags and a package balancing between her arm and hip.  

“Just Aurora is fine,” she reminded her, “and it’s no trouble, at all.”  She settled the bags in one arm before reaching for her wand with another.  “Now, hang on to me,” she instructed.  

Was she really doing this?  Was she really taking Harry’s daughter home?  

This was really the equivalent of giving her a ride, that’s all. If they were muggles, she would have put Jaymes in the back seat of her car and taken her home… This wasn’t a big deal, right? 

Jaymes wrapped an arm around Aurora’s waist, her fingers digging into her hip as she held on, prompting her to wrap an arm around her shoulder and pull her in tighter. 

Was this overstepping?

Aurora remembered the last time she’d been there.  She’d gone with her father to see Mrs. Astoria - to open a few chests from the basement that only someone of Black descent could access.  

She pictured the dark lines of Number Twelve Grimmauld, with the brick paved street and the wrought iron gates.  She imagined the stone steps and the perpetually outdated lamppost that hung above the paneled door. 

She visualized the darker shade of the muggle townhouse, dingy and dilapidated with time - hidden from light, hidden from fresh air, tucked away where all uplottable things existed.  

This could theoretically be inappropriate.  

She took a deep breath, the clean air filling her lungs as the pull behind her belly button intensified, snatching her and her young companion away and landing them on the doorstep of Harry’s Home. 

What could go wrong?

Chapter Text

The crack that echoed around the two witches was significantly louder than normal.  Aurora wasn’t sure if it was her own insecurity of having come here, or if it was indeed a side effect of apparating to a location as heavily warded as Twelve Grimmauld.  

She’d been here before, and she was of Black descent, so there was no technical reason she couldn’t apparate there.  

Despite those facts, however, she still did not seem to have sufficient justification for showing up at Harry’s house, with his daughter in tow.  

She looked up at the intimidating edifice, suddenly feeling much smaller than she had a few moments ago.  

Jaymes was moving ahead of her but paused midway up the steps.  “Ms. Aurora?”  The polite twist of her voice drew Aurora’s focus away from the dread in her stomach and back to the teenager waiting for her to follow.   “Are you alright?”  

It was the wards - they were very strong.  She could feel him, the energy he’d poured into them.  

The sensation wasn’t something she thought she would ever get used to - stepping into his magic - feeling him surrounding her..  

These wards however reminded her of the ones surrounding The Manor, it was one of the reasons she didn’t visit Granny Cissa too often.  They were heavy, stifling almost.

Perhaps it was her sensitivity to the defensive magic erected around dark objects, perhaps it was just her own anxieties, but whatever the case, it resulted in the same trepidation overtaking her as she drew closer to the enchantments.  

The feeling of being watched, the creeping thought that she shouldn’t be there.  

Harry’s wards, however, differed but only slightly.

All the emotion Harry poured into his spells, every ounce of energy he’d expended when creating them, the taste of his dedication, the scent of his devotion, the feel of his desperation…  They surrounded Grimmauld in a haze of clear warning.

It took her breath away, confusing her.  She could feel him in the air, as if he were near.  Physically, her body began to tingle with anticipation - wanting to be closer to him… But the magic pulsed, acting as a clear warning that she needed to tread very carefully.

Intoxicating. 

This, her being here, was not a good idea.

“Ms. Aurora,” the genteel tone of Harry’s daughter distracted her from the slight ebb of panic winding through her mind.  

“I, uh, I’m sorry, doll… I haven’t been here in quite some time.  It’s um - it just caught me off guard.”  Aurora tripped through her words, doing her best to explain her odd behavior without causing the girl to grow concerned.  Jaymes was polite enough to not pry, but Aurora didn’t want to draw unnecessary attention to her discomfort. 

Aurora took a deep breath, “let’s get these inside.”  

Jaymes turned back to the front door, calling out to Kreacher as she made her way through the narrow foyer.  

The sinking feeling grew more intense the closer she came to the threshold, and once she stepped through the doorway, the nausea appeared, almost as suddenly as the floo roared to life across the room. 

Harry appeared in his auror robes, dark soot coating the edges of his frame, throwing his presence in the elegant hall into sharp contrast.  He pulled his glasses from his face the moment he was through.  The unobstructed view of those piercing, consuming green eyes landing squarely on her.

Aurora gulped, sweat forming along her brow.

She was most definitely not supposed to be here.

“Sweetheart,” his voice was cool and careful. She knew he was speaking to Jaymes.

Aurora was still holding an arm full of packages, but the moment his brows pulled together in frustration, she felt naked and exposed beneath his unreadable expression.

“Dad,” his daughter whined, stepping away from his embrace.  “You’re not supposed to be here, you’ll ruin the surprise!”  She smiled - innocent to the tension filling the room.  

Their little elf reappeared with a soft pop to take the parcels and bags still in Aurora’s arms, sparing her a single glance of acknowledgement, then disappeared all too soon. 

Now there was nothing, nothing to stand between her and… and her boyfriend - save his daughter and her blissful ignorance.  

Part of her wanted to go on the defensive, it wasn’t like she’d done anything wrong.  And it wasn’t like he’d made this a hard limit or anything…

She was just... 

She was helping.  She saw Jaymes needing assistance and she assisted!  She would have done the same for any of her friends’ siblings or… or…

The flicker of weak justification flitted away when Harry smiled down at his little girl.  “I’m sorry,” his voice was different.  Instinctively she knew this was a side she was not meant to see - how he interacted with his daughter… 

She shouldn’t be here.  

It wasn’t about her - she couldn’t make this about her.  This was about Jaymes - this was about the fact that Harry was her father and Grimmauld was his home and she’d not been invited… 

Aurora didn’t mean any harm - she was only trying to help, but logically…?  Perhaps there would have been a better way to handle this.

She took a step toward the door, her arms empty and her purpose here fulfilled, but the movement caught Jaymes’s attention and she turned fully to face her - continuing to be as polite as ever.  

“Oh, Ms. Aurora, you're not leaving so soon, are you?  Would you care for some tea, before you go? It’s so cold out.”

Harry looked up as well, his eyes darkening, sending a coil of unprovoked and ill-timed threads of desire through Aurora's body. 

“You are so very sweet, but I’m running terribly late to meet my cousin.”  She forced a smile.  “Perhaps another time?”  

Jaymes beamed, bright and beautiful; a sharp twist of something unnamable filled Aurora’s belly for some unknown reason - watching the girl smile so fondly while her father stood just behind her, stiff and somehow so very far away.

“Well that would be wonderful.”  

A small thud from above broke her attention.  “Oh, no…” she murmured, seeming to know exactly what the noise meant.  “Please excuse me,”  She called over her shoulder before rushing up the stairs, leaving Aurora alone with her father. 

The silence swallowed her whole.  

The stillness; unbearable.  

The only movement to be found was in the grandfather clock behind Harry, its pendulum swinging back and forth, silently ticking off the seconds that passed in their continued stalemate.  

After having spent nearly every night with him at the cottage, it was a very odd thing to see him in the quiet halls of Grimmauld.  The colors weren’t as drab as they’d once been, years and years ago; she could see the late Mrs. Potter’s touch on every surface…  It was more that this just wasn’t where he fit…

Among the muted, soft colors and the fresh flowers.  

Aurora glanced around the room again, taking in the portraits all standing quietly, watching the events unfold before them.  She didn’t recognize any of the figures staring down at her - people she was likely related to.

There was one particular portrait, however, that seemed familiar.  It was of a wizard, handsome and without a doubt exceedingly vain, with a muggle tattoo covering the majority of his hand and an Azkaban tag on his neck.  His smirk was slow, spreading like a virus across his features.  She would have thought him dangerous until he winked at her.  

Aurora jerked at the inappropriate gesture.  

“I should go,” she said, leaning toward the door behind her before turning to run.  

Harry’s jaw clenched, but still he made no sound as Aurora rushed out the door and into the winter afternoon.  

A sharp whistle broke the tense silence following her departure, pulling Harry’s focus from the onslaught of conflicting emotions and toward the only portrait nosey enough to commentate on what had just happened.

“Who’s the bird?” 

A heavy sigh escaped Harry’s lips.  “Not now, Sirius.” 

“Aww, come on, son!  Don’t be like that.  This is the first woman I’ve seen, since Astoria, that didn’t even have to speak to bring you to a silent mess.”

Harry rolled his eyes and turned to move toward his daughter’s room.  “I said not now,” he yelled.  Ignoring the boisterous laugh emanating from the floor below.  

He rounded the top of the stairs to begin his ascent up the next set when a velvety voice drifted through the parlor to catch his attention.  

It was a rare thing to hear it - that soft pitch, that delicate, posh drawl.  

“...your father knows that, darling.  I assure you, he would make sure...”  Harry’s heart ached for a brief moment at the sound of her voice.  

“I know Mum, I know…  I just don’t think he will … I don’t know, it’s already difficult for him and...”  Harry wasn’t meaning to eavesdrop.  He’d learned long ago the dangers in doing so - but it was just…

“My sweetest love,” Astoria cooed, stopping the panic he could hear in Jaymes’s voice.  “You and your father have such difficulty expressing emotion.  I promise you, sweetheart, if you tell him what troubles you, he will listen, he will understand, and he will help, in any way he can.”  Harry didn’t want to move away, to give them their privacy.  

Astoria’s portrait never spoke to him - not once.  He had a feeling he knew why, but still…  He would have given anything to have her speak to him, just one more time.  Perhaps she knew that and that was why she refrained…

Whatever the reason, Harry forced himself away and back down the stairs.  He couldn’t interlope - no matter how hard he might want to.

He scrubbed his hands over his face, hesitating at the top of the landing - trying not to worry about whatever it was bothering his daughter. 

Trying not to worry about why Aurora had been here.  

Trying not to worry about the fact that his relationship with her was a ticking time bomb, just waiting to explode.

It was only a matter of time before the walls he’d built around the different sections of his life began to shatter, once again.  

He’d built them before, at different times in his life - always to keep the people he loved safe and they always, always seemed to crumble at his feet - a glorious display of his weakness.

He was still weak, still, even now…  

Harry squared his shoulders, jerking at the memory shoving its way to the forefront of his mind.

‘You’re a fool, Harry Potter…  And you will lose - everything.’  

The sinister voice intruded his thoughts, pushing his lungs against the rigid cage in his chest.  

Harry wasn’t a fool.  He wasn’t weak.

He wasn’t.  

He was stronger now, harder now.

Harry snuffed out the sound of Riddle’s voice in his mind, trying to dredge up all the ways he’d been a fool - all the ways he would always be a fool - but it just wasn’t true. He had things to protect, people to protect.  

He wasn’t a fool for loving them - for needing to keep them all safe and … and close.

He refused to accept it.  To accept the insinuation that he was weak because he cared.  He didn’t accept it thirty years ago and he wouldn’t accept it now.

Harry moved down the stairs back to the foyer and took a seat on one of the stools in the hall.  Taking another deep breath, he leaned back against the wall and closed his eyes. 

“She looked rather familiar…”

Harry groaned in defeat, accepting the fact there was no way around him.

He should never have let Sirius talk him into placing his portrait in the main foyer.  

“A bit young, I might add, but certainly old enough to -”

“Oi!  That’s enough!”  Harry shot to his feet, yelling at the grinning image of his godfather.  

“So you do have a thing for the bird,” Sirius ran a hand through his forever perfectly coiffed hair. “Is that the girl you were roaming the halls weeping over a couple of months ago?”

Harry’s features turned to annoyance.  “I was not roaming the halls weeping.”

“Because if in fact that was the same girl causing you all the distress, I’d have to-”

“I really don’t think I asked for your opinion on the matter.”

“-commend you on a rather magnificent display of restraint.” Harry stalled in his rebuttal, confused by what Sirius meant.  

‘Restraint’?

His expression turned somber and Harry swallowed down the urge to roll his eyes.  Leave it to Sirius and his irksome talent of going from patronizing to paternal at the twitch of a snitch.  

“I will assume that the girl is the one that brought about your rather dramatic display , and in so doing, I will also assume she is the reason you’ve been gone for the past several weeks.”

He glanced once upstairs to try to discern his daughter’s whereabouts.  This was not a conversation he could have while she was around. She might have been a tad shy, but her curiosity was boundless.  

“Sirius, really…” Harry stood from his self imposed timeout, heaving another elongated sigh. “Not now…”  

“What are you worried about, Harry?”

What an insane question?  What was he worried about?  Honestly…

“Because if it’s Jaymes… I assure you, son, she’s-”

“Not to be rude, Sirius, but you can’t assure me of anything, especially when it comes to my daughter.”  Harry was staring at the floorboards, focusing on the grain in them, the shift and curve of them - innocuous and meaningless. 

Silence echoed through the hall, Harry stuck with the memory of his Godfather in a moment he had not been prepared to navigate.  He tried to focus on that fact - Sirius was just a memory… He didn’t know the complicated inner workings of this life he led, not really.

Harry looked back up to the man who’d been a pillar in his life, who’s presence (even if it was just an echo of his living, breathing self) had helped to shape and guide despite the trivial fact he was technically dead.

“I’m sorry,” Harry said.  

The slope of Sirius’s artistically elegant brow curved in amusement.  “You’re a good man, Harry.”  

The sincerity in his voice sent Harry back to another time - a time in which there was nothing but self-doubt to cling to.  

“And you’re a good father.”  Another beat of silence; Sirius allowing his words to marinate for a moment more.  

“I don’t know, Sirius… I - I,”  Harry swallowed down the sting in the back of his throat, squeezing his eyes shut as tightly as possible to avoid the prick of tears building at the thought of his daughter and all the ways those simple words felt wrong.

“I’m only able to see what goes on here, you know… I’m only able to commentate on the inner workings of this place and do you want to know what I see, Harry?” 

Harry blinked, not entirely wanting to receive Sirius’s take on his life, but unable to really stop him either.  

“I see a man that has taken everything life has thrown at him and has endured.  A man who has changed his life to meet the needs of everyone around him.  A man who has, time and time again, sacrificed his own little bits of happiness to serve a greater purpose -”

“Sirius,” Harry sighed.  “If this is some encouraging rally to abstain from self pity, I assure you I am not pitying myself - I -”

“And because of his determination, because of his dedication, has raised a strong, beautiful, wise daughter… A daughter who has far more than he had, is loved far more than he was allowed to experience and is cherished in a way he was robbed of.”  

The two wizards, separated by life and death, remained locked in the truth of those words.

The familiarity in his voice, the certainty in it, wrapped around Harry like a warm embrace.  

“Jaymes will be alright.”  

Harry took a deep breath and nodded in understanding.  Though it was hard for him to accept Sirius’s assessment, it was also not a topic he could adequately argue further. 

***

Aurora ran a hand over her abdomen, smoothing out the invisible wrinkles of the dress she’d chosen for this evening.  

This would not go over well, she was certain. 

Aurora twisted to look once more at her reflection before spinning again - trying to fortify her resolve.  

The woman staring back at her in the burgundy dress was confident and unapologetic; exactly the kind of energy she needed to exude this evening.

The warm material clung to her skin, circling high on her neck, cinched at the waist and flaring out in large pleats at her hips.  

It would be far too short for Granny Cissa’s taste, but that’s what the black tights were for, and the only skin visible was a thin, rather modest cutout that went from her collar bone to just below her ribcage.  Exposing a very faint strip of her pale skin. 

Her chaotic waves were pulled tight atop her head in a perfect bun.  Her cheeks were lightly dusted with the same dark red of the dress and her lips were lush in the same color.  

She looked good.  

Aurora wasn’t one to focus so intently on her attire - but tonight she was trying .  She was stepping so far out of her comfort zone of ‘preppy academic’ and intentionally taking a few pages from Aunt Pansy’s spell books.  

“Holy Helga,” a sharp intake of breath came from behind her.  

Aurora smiled as she turned to see Teddy and Pru arm in arm.  

Pru leaned in to kiss her cheeks while Teddy remained dumbstruck behind her.  

“So am I to assume this is what you were doing, instead of having lunch with us this afternoon?”

Aurora pulled back, her eyes sweeping over the notoriously seductive siren hanging off Teddy’s arm.  She wore an emerald gown, a bit understated for her normal taste, but still form fitting enough to display her wicked curves.  Her hair was pulled into a loose braid down her back with small emerald pearls sprinkled through her fiery locks.  

“Well I had to do something dashing to rival you, darling, didn’t I?”  Aurora took a step back, fortifying herself before accepting the kiss Teddy was leaning in to place on her cheek.  

“I shall be the envy of all flanked by the pair of you,” he said fondly, looking between the witches on his arms.

Aurora rolled her eyes, but silently thanked the gods for her cousin.  She knew Harry was going to be here - and she needed Pru and Teddy in her corner if she were going to make it through the evening.

Gliding through the familiar foyer of Malfoy Manor into the formal drawing room was no easy feat, for standing against the opposite wall, in a semi circle of his peers stood Mr. Potter, in a set of dignified myrtle green robes.  His hair was a mess, but slightly less disheveled than normal and his gaze locked with hers the moment she stepped into view.  

How dignified and delicious he looked… Her mouth watered. 

A warm hand found the small of her back, breaking her focus away from the man devouring her with his eyes across the hall.  

Teddy leaned into her side.  “Your grandmother is en route, do refrain from eye fucking the other guests before she arrives, hmm?”

A sweet smile crossed her lips as she reached around to take his hand in hers and carefully twisted his little finger back into his palm, pushing as hard as possible, enjoying the strained groan of pain he tried to stifle.  

“Fuck you, Ted,” she whispered in her most cordial and loving tone.  Teddy’s eyes lit in amusement as Granny approached, resulting in her release of his finger.  

He flexed the small digit to try and release the pain radiating through his hand before turning to face his witch’s unimpressed expression.  

“Come along,” she smiled before reaching for his arm, allowing him to escort her away. 

Aurora straightened her shoulders before bending slightly at the knee to accommodate her grandmother’s embrace.  

“My lovely girl,” she breathed. Notes of jasmine, saffron and ambergris filled Aurora’s mind - complex and warm yet slightly sweet.  It wasn’t difficult to allow her anxiety to melt away while standing there with the elder witch’s arms around her.   

“Granny,” she whispered - resting her chin, briefly, against her cashmere covered shoulder.  

“I’m far too happy to see you, my lovely one, so I will refrain from questioning you about your attire,” Narcissa very gently relaxed her arms and stepped back to keep Aurora in her line of sight.  

A knowing grin played across Aurora’s lips at the talent her Granny possessed at remaining perfectly calm in the midst of hosting and still unveiling her fortitude to quietly scold her grandchild for her lack of proper dress.  

“Granny,” Aurora said smoothly, “this is a perfectly acceptable dress for the occasion.”

“Oh this is a dress, is it?”  One pristinely manicured brow rose from its normal location, silently communicating that there was need for further explanation.  “It seems to be missing a few meters of cloth, does it not?”

Aurora pressed her lips.  “Well, see, that’s why I wore tights, see?”  She leaned forward to extend one long leg, wrapped tightly in black spandex.  Narcissa’s patrician nose rose slightly to express her distaste.  “I’m hardly immodest, Granny.”

Narcissa angled her granddaughter to her side, interlocking their arms as they began to take a turn about the room.    

“I see.  And your sternum, that’s a sensible section of your body to expose, is it?  How very modern…”

“Oh Granny, stop it!”  Aurora huffed quietly, a laugh breaking up her words.  “You are insufferable, you know.”

Narcissa smiled.  

“Run along, my lovely,” she whispered, the warmth in her voice giving way to tacit acceptance.  Aurora giggled before leaning down to gently kiss her Granny's cheek once more.  

She moved off to continue greeting her guests, leaving Aurora alone along the back wall to marvel in the ambiance. 

There was quiet chatter emanating from every corner of the room.  Harry was dark and imposing in one of them, far too dangerous for her to be near - looking the way he looked.  

The tight coiling of her magic began to stretch and stir at the sight of him - it wouldn’t be long till it was a burning inferno of need.  

Fuck.

The air seemed to grow heavier as he secretly watched her.  The dark red dress she wore accentuated her petite frame, but then the hem cut off just above her knee, exposing the length of those fucking legs…

Was she wearing heels?

“I’m still not sure how Robards thinks he’ll retire!  With his head so far up Kingsley’s arse, we’ll be lucky to ever see the bastard leave!”

“Here, here!”

Harry was only half listening to the chatter around him.  Ron was leading the group in discussion, but Zabini, Neville, Nott and even Goyle somehow had opinions on the inner workings of the DMLE, though only Ron and himself worked with that department.  

They were transfixed by the gossip, so thoroughly, they remained oblivious to his lack of input.  

She was gliding through the room, greeting one person after another - having nothing but smiles and warmth for each one as if they were the most important person on Earth.  

After a few moments, she’d managed to find her peers.  Teddy and Prudence stood with the Zabini boy drinking coolly, turning to welcome her once she came within arms reach.  

Harry lifted his glass to his lips as the boy’s hand slipped smoothly around Aurora’s small waist and pulled her closer to his side. 

What was that fucking kid’s name?  Karen or something…?

Never had the urge to punch someone in the face been quite as strong as it was just then.  Harry noticed her shoulders stiffen for a brief moment then relax into the contact.  

His knuckles popped as he clenched his fist tighter.

Aurora turned her head as slowly as possibly, sensing his eyes still on her, she peered over her shoulder to gauge his reaction.  

Had it been only a few hours ago in which she’d carelessly overstepped?   

Only an afternoon removed from trespassing in on the private sector of his life, intrusive and uninvited… Seeing him smile at his daughter, seeing him quietly simmer with anger at her unwelcome presence.  

It hadn’t been about her - at all.  It had been about Jaymes - it had been about the fact he protected as hard as he loved… 

Aurora bit her lip as the desperate edge of her magic expanded beneath the fervent heat of her need; the mere memory of his coldness drawing out intrusive thoughts she’d not entertained before. 

It didn’t matter that she’d had a steady diet of him for weeks now.  It didn’t matter that they’d experienced their first awkward interaction with the world that lay beyond the four walls of her cottage.  

All that mattered was the fact there was another layer to Harry that she’d not known existed, not truly.  And standing there, watching him watch her, Aurora came to the conclusion that she wanted to see more of it.  The protective, possessive, dominant man that would let nothing unvetted and unproven near what was most precious to him - his daughter.  

It didn’t scare her… The fact he was a father.  She’d known that since day one, but this was possibly the first time she’d considered it, as it pertained to her.  

And it did not scare her.  In fact, it pulled her in…

Harry was strong and powerful and protective, and Aurora had never seen, had never really understood how deep those still waters ran.  

He tilted his head, ever so subtly, toward the hall.  

And Aurora did not hesitate.  

“Excuse me,” she said - not sparing a glance to the group she left behind.

Thankfully there were a significant number of bodies roaming the dining hall and adjoining parlors.  No one really took notice of Aurora slipping casually between those still mingling and conversing.  

She followed the hall until it rounded into a quiet alcove then pulled on one of the sconces protruding from the wall, unlocking the side panel of the bookshelf across the hall.   

She slipped gracefully inside and was silently counting past one hundred eighty five when the slow, deliberate gait of someone familiar grew closer.  Without hesitation, Aurora reached a hand out to snag the collar of the robe passing by and pulled the man wearing them against her before shutting the panel closed.

Harry didn’t say a word, his eyes shining in the soft glow emanating from the torch light a few feet away.  She saw his frustration and his desire budding through the dark current in his eyes - focused solely on her mouth. 

“What are you wearing?”  Harry whispered. 

Aurora groaned as one of his hands moved up over her back to draw her closer as the other slid down, over her arse.

“A dress,” she sighed, wanting to eliminate all the space between them.  

“This is no fucking dress,” he growled, the dark quality of his voice sending bursts of need straight into her cunt.  

His grip on her bum loosened and almost immediately the hand was around her throat, squeezing gently, slowly pulling her lips closer to his.  

Aurora wrapped her fingers around his wrist, doing her best to cling to sanity just as she clung to him.  

“This is a dark object you’ve conjured to undo me…” the rough quiver of his words, the airy rasp of their delivery against her skin…

Aurora moaned, her hips bucking forward of their own accord.  

“Oh,” Harry murmured;  her wantonness bringing a sinister smile to his lips.  “What’s this?”  His free hand began gliding up her thigh, beneath her dress to feel the tight material covering her skin. 

She struggled to keep a grasp on reality.  

“Someone might hear us,” she whined - the sound pathetic and weak.  

“As if Lucius Malfoy   would have hidden alcoves in his manor without making sure they were properly concealed and silenced while in use…”

Aurora gasped when the grip around her neck disappeared and reappeared beneath her dress, on her arse.  He pulled her tighter against his body; tighter against his profound erection.  

There was a faint glimmer of intrigue at the mention of her enigmatic grandfather.  Sparking the realization that there were things about her life, her family , that she didn’t know, but Harry did.  

Just as quickly as the thought occurred, however, it disappeared to some less important topic to be considered at some other moment.  Perhaps when this fucking god of a man wasn’t grinding himself slowly against her thigh.  

There was a ripping sound followed quickly by the reemergence of his grip on her throat.  The cool air around them kissed the exposed skin of her upper thighs; her eyes widened in understanding.

He’d ripped her tights - just enough…

“Who was that, Rory?”  His lips lowered to the cutout in her dress - his warm tongue gliding between her breasts.  She immediately reached out to take hold of his hair.  

“Wh- uh… Wha, who are you-,"  It was impossible to think - to answer when he kneaded the soft flesh of her arse like that…

“The Zabini boy, whose hands were all over you.”  He was pushing her body into the wall, leaning into her, crowding her, suffocating her.

Aurora tightened her hold around him.

“K-Kyran?”

“Oh, Kyran is it?” He shoved her a bit harder into the wall, sending a thrill through her bones.  Why had she worn this dress?  She was having trouble breathing… It must be the fabric constricting around her throat - that had to be it.

“He’s, ah.. He’s my friend.”  Her voice sounded asinine - desperate - full of a despicable, destructive hunger that she’d yet to put a name to.  

When it came to Harry - there was no plan - there was no clear set of definitions or expectations.  

“Obviously a Zabini,” he breathed, nipping the curve of her breast.  “No respect for things that don’t belong to him.”  There was a possessive cadence in his voice, not entirely apparent but marginally more present than anything she’d heard before.

“Mine,” he breathed against her skin.

Aurora felt the Earth tilt, thrusting her into the back of the cave; the cave of everything she understood and comprehended, of everything she knew to be real.  And the longer she continued this thing with Harry, the more she was forced to realize she didn’t know anything.  

She’d thought she understood the complexities of this thing between them.   

She was a fool … understanding next to nothing that truly mattered.  All she could substantially understand, all that she could claim and own as something she knew, that she knew, that she knew was how she felt.

And she felt everything with him.  She remained lost and found, simultaneously, with him.  

It was unwise, ludicrous to succumb to the baser feelings he stirred within her and yet there was nothing to stop her free fall.

She belonged to him.  

She, very much so, belonged to him.  

Aurora bit off a sudden wave of emotion to jerk his face back up to hers.  She reached between their bodies, fumbling for only a moment before successfully unsheathing his cock.  

His lips never strayed from hers as he likewise reached between her legs to slip her knickers to the side and slide right into her perfect heat.  

They groaned in unison, the ravenous need within them taking control of their bodies and forcing them to quell the rebellious natures of their magics.  

Neither realized what her presence at Grimmauld had truly awoken.  Neither of them understood how their continued exposure to each other affected their magic…

And because of their combined ignorance, because of their over-reaching effort to obtain and possess the other, neither realized just how foolish it was - how marvelously foolish it was to continue this descent into madness.

Chapter Text

“...and you’re quite certain I can’t compel you to run away with me?”  

Hermione blushed, her smile growing more and more brilliant the longer her husband nibbled at the sensitive flesh below her ear.  

“I can be very generous, Mrs. Malfoy,” he whispered, the warmth of his breath sending a rush of excitement through her body.  

“I already own half of everything, Mr. Malfoy,” she replied coolly as he chuckled into her skin before stepping away to adjust his tie.

Hermione reached for the beautiful golden comb Draco had given her last Christmas; running her fingers over the little erumpent, admiring the detail of it before slipping it into her hair.

“Besides,” she adjusted her curls around the comb before turning to him.  “I dare not cross your mother, not after the stunt you pulled last year.”

Draco scoffed, “I took my wife away for a well deserved holiday.  That hardly constitutes the amount of ire I received from her.”

She could not stop the laughter emanating through her body.  “You conniving ferret!  You tricked her into watching the twins for nearly two weeks!  I would have been rather cross had you done that to me…”

She could hear him rolling his eyes.  

Hermione leaned over to slip her heels on, but was halted when her husband knelt at her feet.  

“Draco, you’re bad leg,” Hermione tried to stop him, but he ignored her and continued reaching for her leg, running his thumb beneath the soft curve of her calf.  

“Quiet, wife,” he mumbled, forcing her back into her seat, lifting her leg higher.  “This just happens to be my favorite part about having to attend such formal dinner parties, I’ll have you know.  These fucking strappy heels of yours…”   

Hermione giggled at the sinister sound of his voice and did not interfere when he slid the dangerous heel into place then proceeded to wrap the black velvet ribbon around her leg.  He pulled tight the little bow he’d tied at her ankle then leaned forward to kiss the top of her foot.  

He did the same with the other, compelling her to remain silent - basking in the intimate gesture.  

Her shoes were on, her crimson rose colored dress perfect, her curls immaculate.  His dark, navy suit - pristine, his white, satin locks smooth and elegant… 

No one would be able to tell they’d had a delicious, tender tryst only moments before, in his childhood bedroom… All that remained now was to go downstairs to the fabulously planned and expertly executed anniversary dinner, hosted by the one and only Narcissa Malfoy. 

Hermione was transfixed, however, by the man still kneeling at her feet, and he with her.  

His hand slid up her legs, over her thighs and into her lap to take hold of her fingers.  He twisted the delicate bracelet around her wrist, glancing at the Leo and Lyra constellations engraved therein. 

The quiet moment was not lost on her - he was no doubt thinking over the past twenty-seven years, three children, two careers, and this wonderful amazing life they were privileged to share.  He was probably thinking of all the ways he’d lucked out, all the ways he’d been blessed by Circe herself to have been surrounded by such beauty and devotion.

She knew he was thinking all this, because she was thinking the exact same.  

“I love you, Granger,” he said softly, his words caressing her heart.  

She took in a slow breath, savoring the sound of her maiden name falling from his lips. 

“Well, Malfoy,” she smiled, lifting a hand to cup his cheek - losing herself in the delicious angles of his face.  “I suppose I’ll keep you around a bit longer.”

A sharp exhale fell from his lips as he laughed.  Hermione leaned forward and planted her lips against his, smiling into the kiss, wrapping her arms beneath his shoulders to hold him close.  

“I adore you, Draco,” she said before standing and pulling him up with her. He held her face between his hands, staring at the swirl of bronze-gold in her eyes.  

“Shall we, wife?”  He turned, taking one of her hands to wrap around his elbow.  

Hermione responded by positioning herself at his side, always and forever where she wanted to be.  “Why thank you, husband,” she beamed, “we certainly shall.”

Upon entering the dining hall, Hermione felt a great swell of relief at seeing only those she would consider close friends in attendance, and not the entire bloody ministry and then some.  

Instead she saw most of their peers and a few of their eldest children. (It had become known that children under the age of seventeen were kindly asked to refrain from attendance unless previously specifically invited to one of Narcissa’s gatherings).  

Hermione tightened her grip around Draco’s arm as they entered into the fray.  

She looked around to take in the scale and dress of the room, surprised by how impressed she was with the ambiance of it all.  This was what Narcissa did - it was simply Hermione’s job to show up.  

There were gorgeous blooming bouquets of amaryllis and heliotropes cascading from the ceiling above and spilling out from every glass vase, jar and bowl designed to display something.  The room was layered in dark, autumn purples and juniper green, faint hues of pale, burgundies that looked like wild plums growing and pinks that resembled raspberry cream.  

It was breathtaking, being swallowed by the soft, fall aesthetic Narcissa had crafted inside the manor.  

The grand chandelier in the center, charmed to slowly spin, displayed garlands of the same flower combinations woven through the metalwork.  And as if it weren't enough, to overpower the guests with flowers and color and elegant arrangements of soft summer light, there, at the edge of the room, positioned in a beautiful bay window (that she was certain did not exist before tonight) stood a sculpture of her and her husband. 

The elegant statue depicted Draco on his knees, gazing up at Hermione, his hands on her hips, the look on his face one of supplication and fervent desire.  She was likewise depicted, gazing down at him, her fingers barely skimming through his hair.

It was overwhelming how beautiful it was…

...how haunting it was. 

“Oh, Draco,” she gasped.  “Oh my god…”

“Twenty-seven, wife,” he whispered into her ear.  “I believe tradition dictates sculpture for this anniversary.”

Hermione somehow tore her eyes from the statue and to the man beside her, utterly stupified by the astonishing piece of art he’d commissioned.  

Aurora, like her mother, gasped when the disillusionment around the sculpture fell away.  She watched the look of shock and amazement (and was that anger) cross her mother’s face. 

Surprisingly enough, the anger made sense.

For someone who was considered such a high profile person in wizarding society, Hermione Malfoy certainly detested the limelight. 

She rolled her eyes.  

Leave it to her father to come up with something outlandishly romantic, that also bordered on horrifying.

Aurora’s gaze caught Harry’s in the midst of her annoyance and for a brief, fleeting moment (that was too mad for words) she imagined a sculpture of him, handsome and regal, lithe and powerful…

With her at his side.  

She could see herself - she could see herself wrapped in his arms, delicate and feminine, like her mother.  Not the mule she currently was, destructive and about as soft as a Hungarian Horntail.

Her posture relaxed, hidden between her friends who were still lightly applauding the sculpture of her parents.  The sculpture depicting her besotted father’s devotion for his wife and her mother’s reckless love for her husband.  

It was terrifying and amazing, all at once, how very real, how astonishingly easy it was to think of Harry like that.  Someone irrefutably in love with her.  

He loved her.  He’d told her as much, but did he… was it…?

She gulped down her insecurity. 

He’d not said it since the night in the Forest, but still, he’d said it.  And he’d shown her - over and over since then, he’d shown her how real his affection was for her. 

Someone cleared their throat, releasing her from the distracted haze holding hostage her attention and realized Harry was watching her with a puzzled expression.  

A great swell of relief flooded her body at the fact he was nowhere near her and therefore unable to inquire as to what was going through her mind.  There would have been no way to adequately convey to him the twist of her feelings in that moment, nor would she have been able to come up with a passable explanation.  

This thing with him was amazing and wonderful, but if the events that had transpired only a few hours earlier, at Grimmauld, with Jaymes… If that told her anything, it was that this thing between them was most likely unsustainable.

She smiled, a sort of broken one that didn’t reach her eyes, before turning her attention back to something else, something less overwhelming than the love blooming in her heart for a man she wasn’t entirely sure she’d be able to keep.  

“And now, ladies and gentlemen,” Narcissa called from the back of the crowd as a plethora of dishes flew through the air to circle above each empty place setting.  “Dinner is served.”  Her elegant voice rang out delicately as she twisted her wrist, magically directing the cutlery to descend.  

Aurora didn’t particularly want to continue through the rest of the evening, but she couldn't just leave.  

She ambled toward the extravagant table, searching for her seat while also trying to discreetly find Harry’s. She was placed a few seats down and across from her parents and, of course, Harry - was conveniently seated right beside her mum.  

It wasn’t that she was uncomfortable. It was simply inconvenient. 

“Why are you irritated?”  Teddy was leaning toward her, a smirk clear in the way he spoke.

“Why are you reading me?”  Aurora shot back in a quiet, pleasant tone.  

Teddy took a sip of wine from his glass, smiling at her irritation.  “I don’t have to read you, dear cousin, to be able to read you.”

Aurora rolled her eyes before leaning back into her chair, prompting Prudence to reach over and take her hand.  

“Pay him no mind, darling,” her voice was low and sultry.  “Perhaps you’ll tell me what it is you were up to in the south passage with a certain auror, hmm?”

Aurora couldn’t help the smile splitting her face.  She glanced at Harry - remembering how he’d told her not to fix the tights he’d ripped in a hurry to fuck her.  He’d cast a sticking charm to keep them in place and sent her back out to the party, exposed beneath her dress and practically dripping through her less than durable lace knickers.  The cool wood of the chair against her upper, bare thighs was sending a chill through her spine. 

Harry watched Aurora’s cheeks redden from his vantage point, wondering what it was she was confiding to Prudence.  

He reached for his wine again to take a significant drink.  

“Alright, let’s have it,” Hermione said, turning to face him. “Who is she?”

Harry swallowed down the rich red too quickly and choked for a moment, gently pounding a fist against his chest to right his airways.  “I’m - I’m sorry, what?”

“Who is she?  The woman you’ve been seeing?”  Hermione’s amber eyes were alight, like she was fourteen again with a complicated problem that needed solving.  

There were a few good things that went along with being Harry Potter - one was years and years worth of time to cultivate an adequate poker face.  Unfortunately for him, this talent did not always prove useful against people he was well acquainted with;  particularly Ron and Hermione.  

Harry remained quiet - unable to either confirm or deny her suspicions.  

Hermione grinned.  

“If memory serves me right, the last time you showed up to any social event in formal career robes, with your hair somewhat styled and glasses free of smudges, was when you were seeing that Durmstrang Professor, what was her name?  Nadia something ?”  Hermione twisted a wrist to check her nails, confident in her logic.  “ So… ” she purred. 

She leaned over to prop an elbow on the arm of her chair and pressed her chin against her shoulder - looking at him through her thick lashes.  

The shape of her eyes - so like her daughter’s… Harry cleared his throat.  

Hermione laughed, the joy in her eyes causing his nerves to swell.  “It’s alright, Harry.  You don’t have to tell me…”

The very tips of his ears were on fire as Hermione continued her tempered laughter at something, he was certain, she wouldn’t be laughing about it if she knew just exactly who he was seeing.  

“I just hope she knows how lucky she is,” she managed to say once her laughter subsided.  Her gaze turned serious and she waited for Harry to acknowledge her.  “Honestly,” she said gently.  “You deserve to be happy, Harry.”

Harry swallowed down his unease, doing his best to concentrate on a suitable topic that did not involve the woman he was currently seeing.  He took a significant drink from his glass, trying to buy himself some time to come up with an acceptable alternative.  

Fuck!  Harry really was rubbish at small talk.

Hermione sighed - leaning back into her chair.  “Oh, i never did properly thank you.”.  

He  swallowed down his relief.  “Oh, for what?”

“For having drinks with me a few weeks ago?  You were right about it, you know.”

Harry smiled before turning toward her.  “Of course I was, but what about this time?”  

“Aurora, of course.”  Harry’s cheeks remained lifted, stuck in a smile that he could not dismiss without suspicion.  

Fuck. 

Anything!

Anything else he would have been more than happy to talk to her about.  Bloody anything!

Harry took another drink, a longer one, one that required Hermione to start speaking while he continued downing the not-strong-enough alcohol.  But perhaps it was a good thing the drinks weren’t enough to get him properly sloshed.

All he needed was for his muddled brain to offer up something that his girlfriend’s mother did not need to hear.   

Hermione turned away from him, looking in Aurora’s direction.  “She hasn’t spoken to me since then…”

Harry breathed heavily and sharp; he was really doing this…

“Have you tried to reach out to her?”  He already knew she hadn’t, but obviously he couldn’t let his knowledge of the matter become public.  

“Actually no, I figured I should give her space.  She’s just so independent, she’s never responded well to my interference.”  

Harry poked the salmon about on his plate, cringing inwardly at his friend’s poor decision making.  

“What are you making that face for?”  Hermione snorted out a short laugh.  

“I’m … I’m not making any face-”

“Yes you most certainly are.  You disagree?”  

Harry took a deep breath and cleared his throat.  “Look, I just think, maybe, perhaps, you should try to reach out to her.”  

Hermione shook her head before turning back to her plate.  “I wish it were that simple, Harry.  Aurora isn’t like Jaymes though…  She’s not patient.  It’s hard for her to see beyond her own perception of things.”

He recoiled at her words, hesitating for just a moment before a terse laugh burst from his mouth, bringing a few sets of eyes his direction.  “And where do you suppose she gets that from?”  Harry’s gaze shimmered with a knowing expression.  

Her eyes narrowed.  “You know,” she said after another moment of introspection.  “I’m not entirely sure I like you level-headed and … logical.”  Harry laughed at the irritation present in her voice.  “That’s my job.”

“I just mean…” he hesitated.  What did he mean?   He had a deeper insight now.  

Hermione worried about Aurora; she was afraid for her - petrified really.  She wanted so much more for her other than what magic might dictate.  And … Well, Harry could appreciate that.  He wanted so much more for Jaymes than what magic alone could offer.

Despite it being so wonderfully infinite in its capabilities - there was still only so much that magic could accomplish.

“I just mean that maybe,” he glanced down to where Aurora sat, laughing with her friends, the light around her somewhat shimmering.  “Maybe she needs something more …”

Hermione never had much luck with the vulnerability that came along with having children, and instead of using that, that fear and insecurity, to connect with her equally headstrong daughter, she shied away from it.  

And that vulnerability, that’s what Aurora craved from her parents.  She would never say it out loud - but Harry had begun to deduce from the increased amount of time spent with her that what she wanted most of all was to understand.  

She wanted to understand the fire within her, the rage, the need, the volatile mix of power and passion that made her who she was.  She wanted to understand the very real traits she’d inherited from her parents but knew next to nothing about.

Hermione remained quiet, considering his words.  She was so smart… How could she not see?   “The only person that can help her understand herself is you, ‘Mione.”

Her large eyes met his, a silent plea filling the expanse between them.  

“I joined the Ministry, the Department of Mysteries to understand her magic… To better be able to help her understand herself,” her voice was low and defensive.  

“I know,” Harry murmured, squeezing her hand in his.  “I know…”

“And for all I’ve learned, for all the years I’ve spent,” her voice cut out - a short sob slipping from her heart.  

“Hey… hey,” Harry leaned toward his oldest friend, subtly shaking his head at Draco who was looking on in concern from over her shoulder.  

This was dangerous territory and Harry had to tread carefully.  

“It’s going to be alright.  It’s never too late…”  Hermione lifted her eyes, but not to meet his - instead she focused on his chest, her eyes swimming in unshed tears.  “Now away with sad things, yeah?”  Harry pulled her hand to his lips to brush a friendly kiss across her knuckles.  

Hermione sat up straighter in her seat, a watery smile breaking through the melancholy of the moment.  

“Is that a brown ascot?”  Hermione giggled, reaching for the only thing in the vicinity that was not entirely steeped in emotion.  And the fact that she’d just now noticed Harry’s light brown ascot, complimenting his dark green robes…

He stiffened.  

“What?  It looks nice!”  Hermione quickly offered.  

His cheeks were turning an adorable shade of red.  She hadn’t meant to embarrass him.  But if something so trivial had the power to render him so uncomfortable, it was likely because the delicate piece of material held some sort of secret meaning- or, more likely, had been selected for him to wear by an important person.

She giggled again.  “It’s rather peculiar - that shade. It’s quite familiar and yet I can’t recall ever really seeing it anywhere specific.”

His body was rigid and Hermione laughed harder.  “Alright, alright!  It must be something to do with your mystery witch, I suppose.  I’ll stop.”  She turned back to her plate, stifling her continued laughter.  

Harry’s attention flitted up to where a pair of beguiling eyes were already trained on him.  One pale green - the color of moss in sunlight and one soft brown - the color of coffee with a little too much cream; the same color of this ridiculous ascot he’d selected…

A subtle smile pulled at her lips, the worry filling his chest taking a momentary reprieve.  

It wasn’t ridiculous.  

It was his silent way of being near her, of holding her close to him when he couldn’t physically do it.  He’d picked it because he wanted to look nice for her, even if they couldn’t stand too close together…

Even if he couldn’t hold her hand in his and pull her into a slow dance after dinner…

He wanted to make her proud.

***

The evening had remained relatively pleasant.  Dinner was followed by drinks and lite entertainment in the library.  A strange place to entertain, Aurora thought, but when she thought of her parent’s love for literature, she realized it was the most sensible place to be.  

Aurora poured herself a generous glass of champagne, casually sliding a finger across the back of a certain auror’s hand as he nonchalantly moved in next to her to refill his own.  

“Have I told you how lovely you look this evening, Ms. Malfoy?”  The low, seductive tenor in his voice coiled around her body, warm and wonderful against the undercurrent of her nerves.  Tonight had been rather high stress, but the secret between her and Harry tipped the scales from anxiety to anticipation. 

The exposed skin of her upper thighs quivered.

“You might have mentioned it, Mr. Potter…”  She lifted her drink to her lips before turning to leave.  It would not do to linger too long or too near to him.

They really needed to discuss what had happened earlier at Grimmauld.  They needed to discuss the lines that were going to grow more and more skewed the longer they kept this thing between them secret.

Harry watched her for a moment longer, she was only an arm’s length away, but still it felt too far.  

“I would like to see you later.”  Her eyes met his, the need apparent in his gaze. “Please,” he said softly.  

Aurora stiffened, glancing around to ensure they were still out of earshot from the others.  She lifted her drink to her lips, to hide her intense happiness. 

“Keep an eye out for Stella ,” she said before moving further away, leaving him to stifle, as best he could, the grin splitting his face.  

She sashayed her way toward Prudence, perched on a loveseat, hand outstretched for the glass of champagne she carried.  

“Thanks,” Aurora whispered as she took her seat.  Pru moved a tad to the left to make room.

“All is well then, I suppose?”  Her violet eyes shimmered above the rim of the glass she drank from. 

Aurora smiled.  “All is well…” 

“You should tell them.”

Aurora’s neck nearly snapped at the speed with which she turned to regard Pru and her knowing expression.  

“Are you mad?”

Pru laughed, a low breathy sound.  “I meant about Gringotts, doll.  I think now would be the perfect time to announce it.”

Aurora took a steadying breath, a nervous chuckle emanating from the depths of her anxious soul.  The mere thought of confessing anything to her parents filled her with dread.  It wasn’t as if she hadn’t already had the idea to tell them… 

It was just one thing to think about it and another thing entirely to let it be known.  Traditionally things did not go very well when she shared news with them…

But this was a good thing, she reminded herself.

“You’ve got this,” Pru said, running her small hand over Aurora’s back in support.  

She squared her shoulders, absorbing the bright smile of her best friend then turned in her seat to face her parents sitting a few feet away.  

The confidence in her chest swelled for a brief moment, propelling her into a moment that she knew would change the trajectory of her relationship with her parents.  They would be proud of her, she would be able to make them proud.  

Finally.

“Did anyone hear about the break-ins at the Ministry consulates in Scotland and France?”  Ms. Padma asked, looking about the room.  

Aurora’s body deflated, all the courage she’d been mentally storing in order to finally offer up details of her life, to the people that hid everything from her.

It was significant and…

She glared at Aunt Padma.  

It was benign enough. She hadn’t known Aurora was planning on trying to begin building a bridge to her parents at that moment… 

The levity in the air began to fade as a revenant hush spread among the group.  

As a journalist for the Prophet Padma was more often than not brimming with interesting facts and leads, which normally Aurora found utterly spellbinding.  

Just not now.  

Aurora’s gaze met Pru’s, the irritation evident in her expression.  

‘It’s alright,’ Pru mouthed to her.  

“Apparently there’s been a string of break-ins through the United Kingdom, but none of the known intermediaries have claimed knowledge or responsibility for the raids.”  Padma inched forward in her seat, grabbing her husband’s thigh to push herself forward. 

“And it appears to all be the same M.O.”. Parma continued, drawing the attention of the smattering of others sitting around the hearth.   “A trip through the record departments, Magical missing persons and a quick, destructive stroll through that ministry’s Magi-Ecological departments.  Particularly precious and rare stones .” 

“Oh, I heard something about that,”   Uncle Ronald turned toward the now quiet, captivated room, moving to stand beside his wife..  He slipped a hand into hers before turning back toward Padma.  

“Apparently it’s a private group.  A coven from an Asian territory.  My sister-in-law’s little sister works for the International Co-op, through France.  She told Fleur it’s an unsanctioned coven, from Malaysia, I believe.”

The irritation that had been crowding her mind dissipated as her eyes slowly turned to catch Mr. Zabini’s knowing glare.  

And standing just behind him, was Harry.

“Mongolian , actually.”  Every set of eyes in the room turned toward Teddy who’d offered up that small piece of information.  “I can’t be certain, but I received an owl from Amory Coronado in the Spanish ministry about it.  There wasn’t a break in there, but there was a private collector ambushed and practically kidnapped.”  Aurora’s eyes narrowed, absorbing this new information she’d known nothing about. Freddy would have told her had he known… 

Ted looked around again, taking in the unwavering focus of all the attention on him. Seemingly, weighing the pros and cons of sharing the knowledge he held. 

Aurora knew precisely what he was thinking. There was no one here who wasn’t in some way aware that the Hallows existed… There would be no harm in entertaining the topic further. 

“The coven is looking for The Resurrection Stone ,” he finally uttered. 

Aurora’s heart began to thunder within her chest - she forced herself to keep her eyes locked on Teddy and not glance toward Harry or Mr. Zabini.  

“Oh, is that all?”  Her mother laughed aloud, the sound completely artificial. 

Padma leaned forward, her inner journalist biting for scraps of information.  “Is it really the stone they’re after?”

Several people in the room began to shift awkwardly, everyone but Harry, Ron and her mother.  

“It’s destroyed though, right?”  Prudence offered. Looking directly at her parents for confirmation, completely unaware of her best friends involvement. “They can’t-”

“It doesn’t,” Hermione said quickly, her gaze resting on each of her peers before replacing the firm set of her lips with the placating smile she normally reserved for interviews and social events.  

It doesn’t exist… That’s what the world believed, that’s what the story was.  

They’re just legend. The Hallows aren’t real…

And Aurora was, theoretically, fine with that.  It didn’t concern her, it had nothing to do with her.  

And yet… it had everything to do with her.  

It was a part of her history, as a witch, as the daughter of her parents, as the first child born after the war - as the first of The Boomers.  It was a part of how she came to be.  

They were real - the horcruxes and… and why did the elders in this room get to just decide that they didn’t exist?

Aurora scoffed.  “Typical…” She murmured below her breath, missing the slow close of Harry’s eyes and his sharp intake of breath.

Fuck…  

“I’m sorry dear,” the room was utterly silent save for the crackling of the fire.  “Did you say something?”  Harry recognized that tone - Aurora likely did too.  Hermione was not to be trifled with, not at this moment.  

But from his vantage point - he saw Aurora far more clearly than he saw her mother and Aurora didn’t appear to be in a trifling mood either.

Aurora glanced around the room, surrounded by people who knew the truth and were simply remaining quiet, allowing the ridiculous secrecy to permeate and live.  Fred, who was of course remaining quietly situated between his parents, shook his head discreetly, silently imploring Aurora to hold her tongue - but Aurora was not of a mind to hold back.

Not about this…

“Actually, yes,” Aurora squared her shoulders again and spoke directly to her mother. “Wouldn't it make more sense to admit The Hallows were real?  Are real? Then to continue this farce? Then they wouldn’t be so forbidden and mesmerizing.”

It was as if the room collectively held its breath, every set of eyes bouncing between Aurora Malfoy and Hermione Granger.  

For that’s what it looked like…

The way Hermione tilted her head, pursed her lips and lifted a dark brow in silent response. Aurora was pushing against the parameters of a woman who’d held meticulous control over that dark aspect of her life and to call her out, in such a public way… it was as if both witches were sizing up their opponent, preparing to engage in a duel in which no one, but the two of them, could understand.  

“Heavens no,” Hermione said evenly.  “That wouldn’t make much sense, broadcasting that one could technically achieve the means to become a ‘Master of Death’...  That’s not something we would want the world to know.”

“Oh, and you’re the best one to just decide who should get to know what, is that right?”

“When it comes to things that I have fought long and hard to keep hidden and protected, yes.  I believe I have a say so in their concealments and secrecy.”

“But it wasn’t-”  She stopped the words falling from her mouth, feeling Harry’s voracious gaze practically screaming at her to ‘shut up’.  It wasn’t something Aurora should know about - that the Hallows had been left to Harry, that he’d been a horcrux….  But she knew it all the same - because he’d told her after that night in the forest.  

Aurora cleared her throat.  “All I’m saying is that if they technically don’t exist anymore, why is there so much secrecy around them?  Why not go ahead and tell the full story, explain what really happened?  Then you can-”

“That’s enough, Aurora,”  Hermione tightened her fists before reaching over to run soothing circles over her left arm.

“No, mum!  What gives you the right?  To just decide what the rest of us know?  To just determine who has the right to things that involve all of us?!”  Aurora could feel her friends, her cousin, the few people of her generation in attendance metaphorically stand behind her in her quest for the truth.  “But if you would just be honest, trust that things are different now, that…”

“Aurora,” a stern, deep voice called, silencing her words.  She glanced up to realize the admonishment had come from her father. 

His quiet reprimand holding far more weight than she would have liked it to.

And, unfortunately, each and every one of their parents, who had been there, who had lived through it… They all seemed to be staring at her the same way her mother was, the same way her father was, as if she were nothing but a child screaming for attention, demanding to be given a seat at the adult’s table.  

“What is wrong with you?”  Hermione whispered - her voice far softer than Aurora was prepared to hear.  There was a smallness to it, a hollowness to it that she’d never heard before.  It was foreign and unbearable… That’s not was her mother sounded like.  

That’s not what Hermione Granger-Malfoy sounded like…

Aurora noticed her mother’s ironclad grasp on her left forearm, and her father's long fingers trying to break her hold.  

“What is wrong with you that you think you’re entitled to know everything?  That you just expect for me to share my darkest, most traumatizing-,” she took a deep breath.  “I wanted better for you than this! What right have you to…” 

Aurora leaned back into her seat, Pru’s warmth brushing against her side.

She wasn’t alone in her feelings, she could sense it.  Pru, Teddy, Kyran, Freddy… She wasn’t the only one who deserved the truth.  And despite that knowledge, despite the fact she knew she was but one in this moment, despite the close proximity of her friends - she still felt alone.

Watching her mother, so eloquent and sure, struggle to find the words…  Aurora was entirely alone. She didn’t want to hurt her mum. She loved her… but when was enough, enough? 

“You can’t just go waltzing through my past, picking through moments and memories better left forgotten.”

And Aurora knew that! She did, but … how did she explain it!?  How did she make her mum see? How did she make all of them see? Her very existence had been orchestrated in response to… to some maniac dark lord that no one talked of, not truly! 

She’d been born with magic that was suppose to combat that evil from ever taking hold again and… 

And she didn’t fucking understand any of it!  She understood the dates and the losses and the hushed secrets - but she’d yet to understand the why. 

There was only two people who could help her with that. And they were currently looking at her as if they didn’t know who she was, at all. 

She wasn’t wrong!  Aurora knew there was truth to her words - but it didn’t matter.  The only reason she even existed was because of the things that had happened during that war.  It had everything to do with her too!  Why couldn’t they see that?  

“I’m your daughter,” Aurora pleaded, unsure how to make her see what that should mean.  “Don’t I have every right… to know?”  

Hermione lifted her eyes to her daughter, the somber, longing in her gaze allowing Aurora a glimpse of something she’d worked so hard to keep hidden.  Here was her baby, her first born, pleading to be let in - to be given not a ticket to the past, but a guide through her history…

A history, Hermione knew first hand, had been hard fought for not just her, but for everyone after her…

Especially Aurora.

She searched for something to say - some semblance of an olive branch to offer, but nothing would come out.  

She couldn’t find the words to give her daughter. The burning in her arm began to intensify, after years of lying dormant.  The purple curse was slowly creeping closer to her heart despite the fact it had ceased its progression over thirty years ago.

Hermione was struggling to breathe, fighting against the oppressive memory of beady, black eyes staring into her soul and finding her wanting…

It felt as if an eternity passed between them, nothing but silence filling the room, everyone bearing witness to the unbridged chasm expanding between mother and daughter.  

Aurora stood, the churning in her belly unable to be ignored a moment longer.  It wasn’t her magic bubbling to the surface, fighting to be let out - it was something else, something vastly more problematic and unfamiliar… 

Rejection.  

She opened her mouth, to hurl something back to her mother - to make her feel as small as she currently felt when a deeper voice spoke up, nullifying her final cut before she could even begin.

“That’s enough, Aurora,” her father said, standing to his feet.  She stood for a moment more, embarrassment settling around her like a distorted ray of sunshine - burning every inch of her until she couldn’t stand it.  “That’s enough…” he said again, this time gentler, as if trying to soften the blow.

As if taking her mother’s side in this was going to hurt her…

The bite of betrayal tightened around her lungs and she slowly walked away, each step louder than the last.    

Aurora was through the doors when the awkward whispers started. 

Harry let out a heavy sigh before finishing his drink, savoring the burn.  

“What the fuck just happened?” Teddy inquired quietly, moving to stand next to his godfather.

“I don’t know, Ted,” Harry said, his focus now on Hermione, her face buried in Malfoy’s chest as he ran his hand down her back, reassuringly.  

And in true matriarch fashion, Narcissa was already bustling about the room, doing her best to excuse the very public meltdown that had just occurred.

“Aurora is going to be very upset…”  Teddy whispered. 

Harry looked at him over the rim of his glasses, licking his lips; doing his best to cling to the burn of the firewhiskey still lingering there. 

“Go,” he urged.  

Harry looked around the room again, taking in the fact that each person present was already huddled in a family moment.  The Zabinis with their eldest, The Nott’s with Freddy, Ron and Luna had Prudence and even Greg Goyle remained pensive, with his arm stoically around his son’s shoulders.  

Draco continued to hold Hermione, her shaking visible from Harry’s vantage point.  She would be ok; but Aurora…

Teddy reached for the glass still in his hand and nodded reassuringly. 

 “Go.”

Chapter Text

Harry managed to find an empty parlour with an open floo, luck, however,  did not seem to be on his side though.  Once he released the powder and called out for the Cottage at Hemlock Grove , he was met with the distinct sensation of rejection.  

She’d closed her floo…

Harry pondered for a brief moment before deciding to travel home instead.  He could apparate to her cottage from there. 

The narrow hall was silent as he stepped through the emerald flames into Grimmauld, glancing once toward the portraits hanging overhead then to the clock silently ticking along the wall.  

“Good evening, Master Potter,” a distinct voice called from behind him.  Harry turned toward the little elf, hunched with age, and as surly as ever.  “Kreacher did not expect Master back so early.  Does Master need dinner?”

“No, Kreacher, that’s alright.  Is Jaymes still at Daphne’s?”

“Yes sir, young Miss is still with Mrs. Thomas.  Miss Jaymes will return early tomorrow morning, and Kreacher will have a full breakfast prepared for Master and Miss.”

Harry pinched the bridge of his nose, nodding along with the elf’s words, remembering he was to travel back to Hogwarts with Jaymes in the morning.  

“Thank you Kreacher,” he sighed.  “I…” He hesitated, looking about the room, his eyes pausing on the direct gaze of Sirius’s amused expression.  

‘Restraint,’ Harry could hear the word echoing through his mind, somehow making the look in Sirius’s eyes all the more bothersome.  

“I will be back before dawn, Kreacher.  You do not need to wait up for me.”  He turned his attention back to his loyal elf before moving toward the front door.

“Very good, Master,” Kreacher said, bowing deeply.  

Harry strode past the numerous pairs of intrusive eyes, out into the night, unaware of the very proud smirk settling on a particular Marauder’s face.

***

He wasn’t sure how he knew to apparate to the edge of the forest, surrounding the cottage, but somehow he just knew.  

The weight of his robes, the tightness of them… Harry could hardly move, confined and shackled as he was by his formal attire.  He walked through the cool night air toward the dim light of the cottage peaking through the woods and very quickly understood the reason why the tentacles of tension continued to tighten…

It wasn’t his robes... 

Just beyond the picket fence, past the delicate rows of Hemlock, in the middle of her green lawn that looked like a sea of black wheat in the night, swathed in layers of mist and moonlight sat his Aurora.

She rocked back and forth, her hand clutching her heart, her curls having broken free of their confines - billowing gently around her.  Harry tried to decipher whether it was the wind causing her hair to waver or her magic sending tufts of power through the air.

Her face was etched in frustration, her eyes shut tightly against the anguish overwhelming her and Harry had to pause before entering the garden, before breaking the spell surrounding her.  He wanted to comfort her, more than anything, he wanted to rush through and wrap her in his arms.  But the silence in the air, the way she seemed to be suspended beneath a stasis charm, caught in a snow globe of despair…

Merlin help him, he’d never seen anything so beautiful.  She was ethereal; as changing and consuming as the phenomenon for which she was named.  

His heart swelled as she let out a stifled sob. 

Harry took tentative steps in her direction, slowly easing himself through the heavy air surrounding her, followed by another and another.  

The closer he came, the harsher her breathing grew.

“Rory,” he whispered as he moved to kneel before her.  “Oh, my love,” Harry sighed, slipping a hand through her curls and pulling her face to look up at him.  Aurora moved without hesitation until her body was as close to his as possible.  She slipped her arms around his waist as she leaned against his bent knee.  

“I couldn’t… I - I couldn’t have been,” she sucked in a breath, “any more clear, Harry.”  Aurora turned her face away from his, resting her lips against his palm.  “Why, I just… Why can’t she let me in?”  

Harry pulled her shivering body tighter to his chest, leaning further on his knee to try and envelope as much of her body as possible.  

“What’s wrong with me ?!”  Her voice echoed around them, throwing into sharp relief how silent it had become.  There was no more swirl of air or roar of energy.  Just Aurora and her over abundance of emotion.  “Am I not smart enough? Am I not strong enough, Harry?  That they both-”  She hesitated for a second, no doubt recalling how her father reached for Hermione, firmly telling his daughter to stop.  

“Shhh,” Harry breathed against her cool skin.  “I know, my love…  I know.”  

Aurora focused on the warmth that was Harry; it permeated through his robes, filling her full of a comfort she’d not realized she’d been longing to receive, practically salivating to receive from her mother.  

‘You’re strong, Aurora.’  Her mother would say…

‘You will be a force one day, my little dear.’  

‘You will do amazing things.’

She was murmuring into his chest, repeating over and over words her mother had infused within her as a child… Believing them, thinking they meant something, that she was special. 

She was special it seemed - to everyone but her mother. 

“Come along,” Harry said, scooping her into his arms and carrying her through the garden like one of those muggle heroes her mother used to read her bedtime stories about.  

She clung to him, resting her head on his shoulder, taking deep, steadying breaths - his scent filling her with a sense of calm.  Cedarwood and ash filled her mind and some of the tightness in her chest began to slowly unknot itself.  

Aurora sighed as Harry deposited her onto the sofa in her living room, waving his wand to set the fireplace ablaze.  Instantly she felt warm and at peace, such a vast difference to how she had felt sitting around the fire, in the Manor’s Library.  

“Harry…”

“Yes, my love,” he replied immediately, doing his best to cradle her with his words.  Aurora splayed her small fingers across his cheek, her thumb brushing the edge of his beard.  

Her eyes flitted, back and forth, between his; her lips were parted, as if she had something to say, but nothing came out.  It was significant - whatever it was she couldn’t voice, but Harry was quickly beginning to understand the hidden things she kept buried in the depths of her beguiling eyes.  

Without thinking, he leaned forward, kissing her soundly, slowly ; savoring the plushness of her lips and the way her body responded to him.  Relaxed and pliant against him, wrung out from all the drama of the evening. Not a single ounce of rebellion left within her, all of it having evaporated on the pyre of her tumultuously burning emotions.  

It wasn’t that he liked her this way, it was only that it was so rare - her total and complete surrender to the effects of her emotions.  The vulnerability she so rarely allowed him to see; it was breathtaking, the swell in her lips, the softness of them after she’d been crying… He couldn’t help but to appreciate the moment.  

His desire began to stir at the way her normally tense body lay subdued in his arms, her mouth responsive against his.  

But he could not pursue that- not now … Not when she was so exposed and broken within her own thoughts.  

‘Restraint’.

“How about some tea?”  

Aurora tightened her hold around his neck, pulling herself up, embracing him, holding him as close as possible.  His hands came up around her back, winding around her.  “I’m not going anywhere,” he murmured into the curve of her neck.  

He lifted her gently to set her down beside him and stood, turning to face her - to lean over and look her in her wide, mesmerizing eyes.  

“I’m not going anywhere,” he repeated before breaking the space between them and capturing her pillowy lips in another gentle kiss.  “But first, a cuppa, hmmm ?”

She nodded in agreement before relaxing into the cushions of the sofa, leaning her head back with a sigh.  

“That sounds perfect actually,” she replied.  

Harry moved toward the kitchen when he spotted a record player, nestled between the hearth and a rather impressive bookshelf he’d not noticed before.  Along the bottom row sat an innumerable amount of records, piquing his interest.  

“Goodness,” he murmured, pulling Aurora’s attention his way.  “You have quite a bit of music here…”

She laughed quietly before shifting on the sofa to lay on her side, hiking a knee up and resting her face on her forearms.  Harry knelt down, running a finger along the spines of her records.

“What are you listening to?” He asked then turned to play the record currently on the table. 

Moving through the room to finish making her tea, Harry pulled his cloak off to rest on the back of a chair then hung his ascot on the edge of a banister.  The gentle crooning of a timeless voice began to fill the air, prompting Harry’s lips to pull into a wide smile.

The swell of the instruments and the smooth, addicting sound of the crooner’s voice, singing about the way she looked tonight caused Harry to pause as the tea steeped.  

He looked around the cottage, aware of her eyes on him, and marveled for a brief moment.  The walls were covered in sentimental objects and pictures, shelves full of trophies and treasures.  

He could see her, in all of it.  

She was in the tribal spears, hung with precision over the mantle.  She was in the ancient parchments, framed and (without a doubt) charmed to remain perfectly preserved with the Hindi text.  She was in the Germanic pottery on the shelves and the books on Slavik Runes open on the coffee table.

“What are you thinking, Mr. Potter?”  Harry smiled down at her before moving toward the sofa and taking a seat next to her.  

He slipped an arm around her shoulder and pulled her against his side, settling into the cushions, settling into the feeling of being content - with the fire burning warm, and the slow even breathing of the  woman next to him.  

The ever present thrum of magic within him stretched and flexed until there was nothing to do but curl in on itself, in peace, and rest.  

Harry waved a hand toward the cups still steeping on the counter and watched as they floated over.  They plucked their tea from the air and each released a contented sigh as the warm, soothing drink filled them each with a certain level of heat they’d not realized they needed.  

Aurora pulled her feet up to rest beneath her, causing her knees to rest on Harry’s thigh. 

“I do love this,” he said, a smile in his voice.  He reached down to wind a curl around his index finger, memorizing the texture and weight of it. 

Aurora looked back up to him, resting her head in the crook of his shoulder, a stillness filling the atmosphere around them.  

What had she been so afraid of?   Why was the concept of what her parents shared something to fear?  Despite her issues with them, she never could ever doubt how real their feelings for one another were. 

The music playing around them softened and another, softer melody began to flow, a woman singing gently about her love coming along, at last. 

“You know,” Harry said smoothly, his voice taking on that terribly attractive note of melancholy.  

(And please, you mustn't blame her for finding it slightly delicious, that particular tone of his voice.  It was just so dreamy - when he became nostalgic like this… He was so very aloof about his feelings, it was a treat for her to see the inner workings of such a man.)

“I… I think it hurt her, your mum, to put all her eggs in one basket.  To sacrifice everything to believe in me, in what we were doing.”

The coy smile that had been pulling at her lips slowly slipped away.  He was telling her about it, about the war.  She gulped down the nervous energy pooling in her belly.  

“It would be absurd to try and accurately describe what it was like… What should have been our seventh year at Hogwarts.”

“The year you were hunting Horcruxes,” she offered.

He nodded before taking a sip of his quickly cooling tea.  Aurora unconsciously tightened her hold on him, a slight chill flowing through her body, anticipating his next words. 

“I can’t put it into words how terrified I was… How alone I felt. We were just kids…” His voice hovered just above a whisper.  “Ron had left and… and I couldn’t tell her it was all going to be ok, because I didn’t know if it would.  She just trusted me, and stayed with me and…”  

He reached for her hand and entwined their fingers, lifting them to his lips.  “I couldn’t find a way through the hunger and the exhaustion and - and Hermione never gave up, never left my side.” Harry hesitated before continuing on; staring at the smooth creamy skin of her hand secure in his. 

He’d opened the door; walked her right into his past and was more than willing to share, but it wasn’t just his load he carried. 

It was a fine line, figuring out how to tell her the things that still haunted him in the night without including her mother‘s deepest hurts, but he had to try.  

Not because she’d asked him to but because, well, because he really wanted to.

“We were being hunted… The same way we searched for the horcruxes, the evil all around searched for me, and Hermione, by association.”  Aurora watched a cloud descend upon him and the green in his eyes go slightly dull; she didn’t dare to move, let alone breathe.

“Our faces were plastered all across the UK.  We couldn’t go to markets, to villages, hamlets… Undesirable number one, I was,” the full force of his focus settled on Aurora.  “And your mum, she was number two.  The bounty on our heads alone was…”  He took a breath.  “I knew they wouldn’t kill me, Riddle needed me alive, but Hermione.  I can’t ever know what it did to her - for her to know she was worth more dead than alive…  All for the purity of her blood…”  His voice trailed off and Aurora fought back the tears that began to form.

“We had just moved to a new location, a patch of rocks that seemed to stretch on forever.  No trees, no green, just broken, chipped cliffside and wind.”  He took a breath, the very warmth in his hands beginning to slip away.  “ How the wind would howl in the dead of night… ”  

Aurora slipped her other hand around his, willing her presence to be enough, to sustain him.  

He knows I’m here with him, right?  I’m right here, Harry. I’m right here with you…

“Ron was gone.  And it had hurt me, but - but honestly?  Hermione… I still can recall how Hermione would cry when she thought I couldn’t hear her.”  He cleared his throat, prompting Aurora to jerk at the sudden sound.  “I was trying to give her space, to make it easier on her, although, what she probably needed most was for me to talk to her… I don’t know.  I didn’t know,” he pleaded softly - as if trying to find forgiveness for something he could never take back.

“But it had grown so dark, so I went back in for the night and she was sitting there, hunched over, her arms wrapped around her legs listening to the only semblance of music available on the little shortwave radio we had.

“I couldn’t understand then why she stayed with me, why she’d sacrificed everything to stay with me, and honestly I still don’t understand it…  The best I can come up with is that she was just so Gryffindor, she couldn’t afford to leave.  She’d already put all of herself into this, into this fight, into this cause - her parents, her magic, her very right to exist in this world… She’d put it all on the line - so she couldn’t quit, she couldn’t walk away.”

Harry turned his unfocused eyes to Aurora, the heaviness of the moment consumed her.  

“I know now what it means to have something greater than yourself to care for…  I know what it means to have your heart literally walking, talking and breathing apart from you and … and I could never,” Harry took a deep breath as his voice let out a slight shake as he considered his most precious reason.  

“It terrifies me, Rory, to the very bone, knowing I will have to explain it all to Jaymes - that I will have to answer for everything.  

“Everything I have done, whether I knew it or not at the time; everything I will do… she’s at the center of it all, and I can not make a mistake.  I can not afford to do anything that might jeopardize her.”

Aurora took a breath, careful of her next words.  “But surely… Harry surely she would much rather-”

Harry gave a low chuckle, looking away from their joined hands for a moment.  “Would she, darling?  Would she rather I burden her with the truth of it all, with the terror and darkness and treachery that still might be lurking in the void - just waiting…?”

The finality of his tone left Aurora silent.  

“It’s a risk - that I will one day take with Jaymes… But, do you think,” Harry looked at her once again, life returning to his eyes, “perhaps that Hermione, as strong and courageous and amazing as she is, is afraid of what it will do to you, when you learn the truth of it all?  Of how it will change what innocence you still possess?  

“Isn’t she allowed to be afraid of losing you, darling?”  She was caught in his gaze - seeing what he saw, perhaps for the first time, ever.  “Hermione has lost so much, I don’t think she’s willing to sacrifice losing you too, my love.”

Aurora felt a tear slip from the corner of her eye, caught in his honesty and transparency.  “I just… I wish she knew that I’m not weak - I can handle it, Harry.”

“I know, Aurora.  I do.” He let out a heavy sigh.  “I don’t know how you and your mum will work this out… I don’t know what the right way forward is for the pair of you headstrong, insufferable Gryffindor witches,” the smile in his voice resulted in one of her own spreading across her cheeks.  “I didn’t know then, how to make it better, and I don’t know now, to be honest.”

Aurora nodded, understanding Harry’s plight… He loved her mum, he wanted her to be ok and.. Well, he loved Aurora as well.  She sighed, leaning against his shoulder a bit more - unsure how this complicated web of relationships would be unwound.  

“Well, what did you do?”  Aurora inquired.  “On that stony cliffside?”  She asked, trying to bring the conversation back a bit from the darkness.  “How did you help Hermione get through that sad moment after Ron left?”  She grinned, saying her mother’s name as if she’d been part of their trio.  

Harry smiled as a new song began to play on the record player.

He recognized the notes filling the air and moved to stand, pulling her along with him.  “I did something like this…” His hands came to rest around her waist as she slid her hands up his arms to grip his shoulders.  “Granted I didn’t hold her quite like this… but I think you get the picture, yeah?”  

Aurora beamed at the slight turn of his lip into a lopsided grin.

He took one of her hands in his and proceeded to gently spin her about the small living space as the melody encompassed the pair of them.  Aurora recognized the somber tune; the man singing - a tragic, muggle figure in American history. 

His voice swelled as the melody flowed. 

Harry held her tight against his chest, humming softly along with the harmony.  The sound filled her heart with something devastating and profound, something she very much knew the name of.  

“Like a river flows… Darling, so it goes… some things are meant to be,” his voice was low as he sang, resting his cheek against hers, the deep, baritone of his voice resonating in her ear and through the chambers of her heart.  

“Shall I stay,” his arm tightened around her.  “Would it be a sin…? ”  Aurora closed her eyes, allowing his scent to drown her beneath a river of love…

Yes, yes…  It was love.

“If I can’t help, falling in lo- ”

Aurora pressed her lips against his, ending the smooth, sweet sound spilling forth.  And as the music continued to fill the space around them, Aurora did not stop the passion pouring from her, dousing him in a different sort of desire.  

“I love you,” she whispered fervently, pulling away from him slowly, staring straight into his eyes.  “I love you, very much, Harry Potter.”

The light shone in his eyes - fierce and enchanting, as if he’d just won a rather complicated game of Quidditch, as if he’d just secured the most rare and original treasure.  

He pulled her closer to him, lowering his lips to hers again, melting into the way she fit to him, her hand warm within his.  She’d not said it before this moment, but certainly he’d known, on some level he had to have known.  

Aurora wrapped her arms about his neck and leaned into the kiss, accepting everything fate was giving her at this moment and everything it might possibly give her in the near future.  

Everything fell away as they stood in the middle of her living room, snogging, basking in the shared beauty of their feelings for one another.  Aurora savoring the truth he’d shared, Harry clinging to the peace, the life, the absolute magic she ignited within him.  

They both took a deep breath, as they continued exploring one another - something they’d already done countless times and yet something they could not seem to stop.  

Aurora was running her hands down his back, gripping him tighter, wanting more when a very distinct whoosh filled the room, a silver cloud of smoke permeating in the air around them as a rather familiar patronus materialized.  

A scruffy looking dog, quite handsome and rugged at the same time.  The little creature paused, staring up at the couple still locked in each other’s arms, waiting for the recipient of it’s message to acknowledge it.  

“Harry,” the distinct voice of Ron Weasley came from the terrier.  “There’s a situation unfolding that I think you need to be aware of.  Please hurry.” 

Harry let out an elongated sigh, before resting his forehead against Aurora’s.  

She laughed at the sullenness on his face.  “Oh, I am sorry,” she murmured as Harry ran his hands down her back one more time before stepping away.  “Apparently there is no rest for the wicked,” she smiled.  

Harry smiled, tilting his head to look her over, to commit this moment to memory.  “I love you too, Aurora Malfoy,” he said.  “Very, very much.”  

He moved about the room, finishing his tea and grabbing his cloak.  

“Do you think you’ll be back tonight… possibly ?”  Aurora asked, a knowing hunger blazing in her eyes.  

Harry barked out a laugh of delight.  “I do wish, but I am set to take Jaymes back to school in the morning and I’m not sure of what I’m about to step into at the ministry…”

“It’s not serious I hope,” Aurora handed him his wand before reaching for her, now cold, cup of tea.  

“Oh, I’m sure it’s not.  Ron wouldn’t have sent a patronus if it were.”  She was twirling her wand about, vanishing her ripped tights, and removing the rings from her fingers.  

Aurora glanced at him, confused. “What would it have been, had it been an emergency?”

Harry pulled the charmed, protean coin from his back pocket and tossed it to her.

“Oh Godric!”  Aurora exclaimed, the weight and feel of the famed coin in her hand sending a shiver of excitement down her spine.  “Is this an original?”  

Harry smiled at her, fixing his cloak back into place before reaching to take it back from her.  “It is,” he said proudly.  “But there’s only a few of us that still use them.  Not much need for them anymore, thank Merlin .”  Harry slipped the coin in his back pocket then reached out for Aurora once more.

“Also,” Harry glanced at her bare legs, a niggling sense of shame intruding his thoughts as he contemplated their rendezvous at her grandparent’s home.  “I feel maybe I should apologize for, for earlier, at the manor.”  Aurora jerked in his arms as he struggled to find the right words.

She couldn’t let him apologize for that, not when it had been amazing and perfect… Besides, it wasn’t entirely his fault - they were still reeling from the magnificent tension they’d both endured at Grimmauld hours before and… well, if Harry hadn't found a way to ease that tension between them, surely she would have.

“Harry, no, please,” Aurora stopped him, reaching for his hands.  “I’m the one that is sorry - for way earlier today, at your place, with Jaymes. I didn’t think-”

“No, Aurora… No,” he grabbed her cheeks, skimming his thumbs down the slope of her face.  “There is nothing to be sorry for.  I was only caught off guard… I just - I wasn’t prepared for… To see you there, with her.  But you don’t ever need to be sorry.”  

Harry pressed a light kiss to her forehead before another quick one to her lips.  

“We will find the right moment - to tell everyone,” Harry said reassuringly.  “I promise.”  

Aurora’s happiness was palpable and Harry could not help but lean in and kiss her again.  Savoring the taste and feel of this moment.  

This moment that seemed to signal the beginning of something profound.   

“And about your mum,” he whispered as he pulled away, feeling her body tense for a brief moment.  “Just be patient, love.  It’s never been a question of whether or not you can handle it, Rory.  It’s always been about your mum’s struggle to let it go.”

Aurora swallowed down the energy rolling through her body and nodded along with his words.  

“Now get some rest,” Harry called on his way out the front door - leaving behind one starry eyed woman and a peculiar colored ascot.  

***

Harry stepped through the floo into the Ministry Atrium.  

The black tiles pristine.

The quiet, palpable.  

There was a tremor in the air that sent a thrill through his spine and had him reaching for his wand, automatically.  

The massive clock hanging from the center of the dome indicated it was a little past one in the morning, urging Harry to walk a bit quicker.  He sighed heavily in exhaustion, making his way through the atrium,  wanting to get home and into bed before it was time to rise and get Jaymes off to school.

“Harry!”  Ron called, leaning out of one of the lifts, waving him over.  “I’m glad you’re here, mate,” Ron said, ushering him through the lift doors and pressing the option for the Department of Mysteries. 

“The DOM?”  Harry asked, slightly confused.  

“Yeah,”  Ron said slowly, rubbing the back of his neck.  

The lift sped through the different levels, and through side halls, before slowing at the desired destination.  Harry waited for Ron to open the gate and lead him to the reason he’d been called, but he hesitated.  

“Remember what Padma brought up, before everything … everything went a bit sideways?”

Harry nodded, not wanting to really relive the dramatics of the evening again.  

“Well, we can now add the British Ministry to that list of break-ins.”  Ron said quietly.  

Harry took a deep breath.  “So they’re here, looking for the stones…”

“Yeah.”

Double fuck.

“Are the wards…?”  Ron inquired, his voice so low Harry almost couldn’t hear him.

“They’re still intact,” Harry shifted his weight from side to side, staving off the urge to tell him why he was certain they remained intact.  ‘They were breached a couple of months back, by Aurora Malfoy, you know, Hermione’s daughter.  And I was able to restore them.  Oh, why did she breach them, you ask?  Well, that’s a long story - entwined with plenty of Gryffindor stupidity and my undying love for the witch.’

“Ok, well, I called Lupin,” he said, walking alongside Harry through the quiet halls.  The slow moving air flow catered to the sense of eeriness that was always associated with this department.  He would never get used to it, the feeling of being watched, of danger lurking in the bowels of this place.  

He wasn’t quite sure how Hermione was able to work down here all these years.  

“Ted?”  

“Well, yeah.  He mentioned earlier the cursebreakers having some prior intel and when I called him he had quite a bit more to say.  They have been following these raids for some time.”  

Harry considered why they might be following the actions of a rogue coven.  It had to do with more than just the stone, for certain, but what else was there?  

He briefly worried about Aurora - hoping she knew to stay away from the stones after everything they’d been through.  She was a cursebreaker now too, but whatever was going on  - whatever game was afoot, Harry didn’t want it to include her.

The pair continued through the halls to the primary reception area.  A large, cold room, rounded to look like a miniature Atrium, with a lone desk at the center.  The halls that branched off were all unmarked and uniform in appearance - to aid in the enigma of the department, most likely. 

Ted stood at the desk, as if marooned on an island,  while the head of the curse breaking division, Amory Coronado and Septimius Sallow, the head of the Department of Mysteries, spoke in low voices behind him.  

“What do we got?”  Harry came up to quietly inquire behind his godson.  

“Hey,” he replied - taking a heavy breath before finding the right words.  “Did Ron tell you anything?”

“Not really,” Ron supplied.  “I was waiting for you.”

Teddy ran a hand through his hair, a sandy blond sort of color now, turning his features serious.  

“Well,” he shook his head in disbelief, looking far too much like his troubled father in Harry’s opinion.  “We have a somewhat clear expectation, as this is the eighth disturbance to be reported, however, this is the first time they’ve changed their pattern and broken into a quandary department.”

Ron looked to Harry who was already piecing it together.  

The coven was looking for The Resurrection Stone, clearly they were trying to harness its magic for something large, based on the great lengths they were going to get even the slightest bit of information about it.  

Breaking into a Department of Mystery however, that was a conundrum.  Each of these departments were different, depending on the country and government within which they’d been created.  The coven hadn’t bothered to infiltrate one in any of the other countries… 

That was the key.

What they needed obviously couldn’t have been found anywhere else.  They chose the Department of Mystery at the British Ministry specifically because they knew something was here that wasn’t in any of the others.  Something or…

Harry’s heart dropped.

…or someone.

“You didn’t call me because I’m part of the Special Division MLE…  You called me because I’m part of the Golden Trio.”

Teddy nodded.  “The agent’s records they tried to breach were Aunt Hermione’s.”

Chapter Text

The floo spat Harry back out in the receiving parlor of Grimmauld, exhaustion dripping from him like the stench of cheap wine and cigars.  

The grandfather clock on the first floor began to chime, its ancient bells reaching him on the second floor, indicating it was now five in the morning.  He was meant to be getting Jaymes off in less than three hours.

Harry moved toward the study, the nearest room with a seat to begin pulling his boots off, followed by his robes.  Once the uncomfortable garments had been divested, Harry stood, still clad in his trousers and a plain white muscle shirt, Harry stretched, twisting to relieve the tension that had gathered in his limbs and muscles.  

He couldn’t handle anything else this evening - aside from maybe a stiff drink and the softness of his bed.  

He was tempted to lower himself back down to the rather comfortable chair instead of trekking his way up the third level to his bedroom.

“Your neck would not thank you for it, old man,” he murmured to himself.

A delicate, trilling sound filled the room and Harry spun to locate the source of the refined laughter.  

“Still talking to yourself, I see,” Astoria’s quiet voice called.  

Harry jerked away from the painting, stunned into silence - not quite sure he’d heard what he thought he did. 

“Um…”  Harry’s eyes narrowed as his brain caught up with his rapidly beating heart.  She had spoken, directly to him… 

And she was smiling - waiting for him to acknowledge her.  

“Still eavesdropping, I see,” he replied once his brain restarted, causing the dimple in her left cheek to appear, her smile as bright as ever.  Harry pulled his wand from his pocket and sent a burst of energy  to light the room.  

It wasn’t his imagination.  There she was.

Astoria. 

Sitting on a blanket in a meadow, surrounded by cherry blossoms and a whispering breeze.  

Harry didn’t avoid this room, per say.  He certainly didn’t actively seek it out either though.  He tried to recall the last time he'd actually spoken to her. The last time he attempted to get her to speak to him…

instead of the loss and pain that normally accompanied him when he would gaze at her silent portrait, it was as if a weight lifted from his shoulders at the sight of her lovely smile.  Her strawberry blonde hair was still in that elegant braid over her shoulder and the dark green robes she wore still accentuated the light dusting of red along her cheek and neck.  Something she’d been much too self-conscious about in her life, but something Harry adored all the same - her demure blush. 

“It’s not eavesdropping when you’re speaking so loudly, dear.” She said with a hint of cheek in her voice.  Harry smiled. 

“You’re right, dear.”  His heart sighed in what felt like completion.  “Of course.”  

Astoria lifted her hand to pull a lock of stray hair behind her ear before bringing a small teacup to her lips.

“How are you, Harry?”  Her light blue eyes were alight with mischief.

“I’m alright,” he said after a moment’s pause.  He knew what the look she was currently giving him meant, and he knew whatever she was thinking would not bode well for him.

Her assessing gaze prompted him to stand a bit taller, to do his best to push away the tiredness clouding his thoughts.  

“Oh Harry, please don’t,” she arched a pristinely manicured eyebrow, causing Harry to swallow the instant surge of anxiety.  “You are aware, are you not, that I can tell when you are being less than truthful, yes?” 

Harry jerked his shoulders and cocked his head.  “Why wouldn’t I be alright?”  

“There are a great many reasons that I am both aware and unaware of, that might account for why you’re being dishonest with me.  Your tired demeanor, the fact you are just now arriving home, when I know for certain the Malfoy’s anniversary dinner disbanded several hours ago.  And I can not even begin to divulge what my brother-in-law seems to think.”

“When were you talking to Dean?”  He groaned, burying his face in his palms.

“It is neither here nor there,” she waved, dismissing his consternation.  Though why Harry found this behavior shocking was beyond him. Even beyond the grave she remained a gossiping Greengrass.  Harry laughed to himself, it was just so genuinely Astoria… 

And he was so happy to finally be speaking with her.  

But, if she’d been gossiping with Dean and Daphne, it certainly held water that she’d also been…

His heart began to palpate, anxiety filling his bones.  Harry stared at the portrait while she stared back - each quite aware of where the other’s thoughts were taking them.

“You can not believe a word of what Sirius says!”

“Harry, dear,” she laughed.

“Because I’ll remove the charm that allows him to visit other portraits and I’ll put him in the attic,”  he threatened.

“No, Harry,” she giggled, the sound calming his nerves, but only slightly.  “You wouldn’t dare do that!”  Her light laughter trilled between her words, giving Harry a moment to ponder how it was that even now, after all these years without her, it felt so easy slipping back into this rapport with her.

His defensive irritation ceased as her giggles subsided.  “Besides, it wasn’t Sirius…” her voice trailed off, as if it were someone else that had dfvulged his private information.. 

“Astoria,” he said firmly, trying to take control of the moment.  

She grinned, ever so sweetly, and Harry moved back to the oversized chair to sink into its plushness.  He was so tired, so dreadfully tired and yet now was when Astoria chose to speak to him?  

She was taking another sip from her tea cup and smiling down at him as he remained quiet, trying to sort through the haze in his mind.

He looked at her, contemplating when the portrait had been painted specifically.

Astoria was younger in the scene before him, similar to the young woman he’d known from afar at Hogwarts.  She held a coy grin, a dark knowing gaze and a graceful air about her - which was conveyed rather well in the painting.  

And for all the sweetness in her demeanor, for all the elegant twists in her words - she was still, even in memory, a Slytherin.

Harry stared at her, recalling all the years he spent trying to hide things from her, to protect her, to keep her safe and all the years she spent showing him how futile that was.  She was always a step ahead of him, always somehow aware of his secrets before he even seemed to be…

And the only think he could think of, the only thing he’d kept secret, now, was Aurora.

But he’d been careful - he’d been smart - he’d…

Harry sighed, rubbing his hands over his face and accepting what was the only reasonable conclusion staring him in the face.  

“What has Jaymes told you?”  He asked - a bit terrified of the answer he might receive.

She smiled, her cheeks bright with pride, seemingly congratulatory that he’d figured it out.  “She is ever so bright, dear.”  Astoria beamed.  “Takes after her mother, my little birdie does.”  

Harry nodded along, agreeing with the truth of her words.  “That she does.”

She wasn’t going to ask directly, that was far too gauche for her, but it was next to impossible for him to just offer up information he still wasn’t ready to share - especially not with his deceased wife.  

The pair of them settled into a comfortable silence as Harry replayed the past several months, trying to discern when he’d slipped up and how exactly Jaymes knew.  

Is that what she’d been confiding in Astoria yesterday?  She didn’t want him to see anyone?  Was she worried he would become like some men and cast off his affection for her, all for the attention of another woman?  

How could he have been so careless to let this happen?

“Why-,” he finally uttered, not entirely meaning to.  He cleared his throat and tried again.  “That is, you haven’t spoken to me in almost seventeen years…”  Harry took a breath, somewhat surprised at the lack of emotion in his chest.  It didn’t burn with anguish or unshed tears.  It didn’t ache as it had in the past - when he’d sat, silently pleading for her to speak to him.  “Why now?” 

A sadness filled her smile as she sat her teacup back down.  “You know why, my dear.”

Harry pursed his lips before nodding slowly, thinking back to the boy he once was and that magic mirror he’d found. If Astoria was speaking to him now, it must mean she knew… she somehow knew he had finally let go of her, he had finally moved on.

The sadness that pricked his heart wasn’t entirely unwelcome.  It was necessary, he supposed, for his life to move on.  Astoria knew this, she’d just been waiting for him to catch up.

He didn’t deserve her, even now, Harry recognized how much he did not deserve the brilliance and patience of this marvelous woman.  

“What are you thinking, Harry?” Astoria breathed.  He gazed at the serene portrait as a different, more determined, type of love filled his heart.  He did miss her, even now he missed her and the ease they had shared between them. 

The quiet.  

The simplicity of merely existing.

Harry sighed and smiled back at her.  “It’ll keep,” he replied, unsure that he could accurately explain the way he still cared for her and the depth of his love for another woman. Not now, anyways.  It was ludicrous to think, and yet… 

And yet the way she smiled at him, the way she stared at him - despite the fact she was only a memory of the real Astoria, Harry knew there was no one who would probably support him more than her. 

“You mustn’t overthink things, dear,” the intricate portrait gently chided.  “And you simply can not allow uncertainty to dissuade you.” 

Harry scoffed, but not at her wisdom.  There was so much he was uncertain of, so much he wasn’t really considering.  

“I don’t know, Astoria…  I feel like I haven’t been thinking at all.  I’m not being very smart…”

“And who, may I ask, insinuated something so preposterously ludicrous, hmm?” 

Her even-tempered indignation sent a warm, familiar sense of comfort through his chest.  He did miss her high-born, pureblood, refined way of growing irritated over people she considered ‘cretinous’ or situations that were ‘ripe with ineptitude’- both terms she’d used in the past to describe minor inconveniences and mistreatments following the war.  

Harry’s smile was inexorably bright.  

“No one really.  Just me.”

“Ah, so you are overthinking things.”  

Harry chuckled.  “It’s impossible not to, when Jaymes is,” he hesitated.  He was far too tired to delve into this specific topic - but it was Astoria… 

And she’d chosen now to break the seal of silence.  He was not about to allow something as fickle as exhaustion deter him from her.

“When Jaymes is what, dear?”  Astoria prodded.  

Harry was lost in his thoughts and therefore vastly unaware of the gentle patter of feet moving into the study;  Astoria nodded discreetly at the newcomer’s approach.  

“...when she’s the most important thing.  I can’t… I don’t know, Tori… I just worry so much that I’m already not there enough for her.  She spends so much time away from me, because of my job and, and just by virtue of being in school and-,” he took a breath.  “She’s just so alone here…”  

Harry glanced up at his - at his what?  What did one call their wife, after she’d passed away?  Someone who’d been taken from you, in which the ridiculous veil of death was to blame for separation? 

“I didn’t want her to be alone like this - like I was...  And how can I be with someone?  How can I abandon her… leave her alone…?”

“-but I’m not alone,” Jaymes said from the doorway of the study, startling her father from his diatribe of despair.  

“Jaymes!  How long have you been there?”  

Jaymes moved toward the bench positioned beneath the window and lifted it to carry toward her father, sat it between her parents and took a seat.  

“Oh, long enough, Dad. Long enough.”  The slight turn of her lips and the way she stared back at him with his own eyes, Harry felt a bubble of laughter float through his abdomen and out into the early morning.  

“How long have you known?”  

His daughter sighed then smiled, pulling her long legs up to her chest.

“Well, that’s a bit more complicated.  How long have I known that you’re seeing someone?  Or that ‘that someone’ is Aurora Malfoy?”

Harry’s heart thudded to a complete stop, his eyes widening to the size of quaffles and before he could comprise a sentence there it was again, that melodic, smooth laughter…  

He turned his attention toward the painting and marveled at the lilting sound.  

“Jaymes, what the bloody hell?”  Harry groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose and sinking back into his seat, wishing the entire world might collapse in on him at this precise moment.  “And how in Merlin’s name did you figure that out?”

She rolled her eyes, before taking a deep breath.  “Do you mean before or after the ridiculous display the pair of you put on yesterday afternoon?”

Harry rubbed the back of his neck.

“Oh, now that…”  Astoria smiled into her teacup.  “That was rather poorly executed, my dear - I’m afraid Sirius did tell me about that.  I’m rather excited to tell him I know who the mysterious woman is, now.”

“Oh gods,” Harry groaned again.  “What a bloody nightmare.”

“It’s really not that bad, I think she’s wonderful,” Jaymes offered, prompting Harry to drop his hand and look at her directly.  

“What?  I do!”  Jaymes stretched her legs before settling on the bench, tucking her bare feet beneath her.  

“I figured out you were dating someone, about a month ago?  Poppey and I went to Diagon for a… thing,”  Her cheeks reddened for a moment - indicating she was hiding something.  Harry took a mental note to circle back to that later.  “And who should we see coming out of Early Blooms, with a rather large bouquet of purple and red Sunflowers…?”

There was a soft gasp from Astoria, followed by a knowing grin from his daughter.

Harry winced at the memory.   Aurora had just begun her application process - for the curse breaking division and he’d wanted to congratulate her on her accepted application.  

“Poppey promptly informed me that no one procures magically modified flower arrangements unless they were for someone very special.”  Jaymes tilted her head to glance at her mother.  “Have you seen any flowers lately, mum?”

Astoria shook her head, with a perfectly lovely grin.  “No, birdie, I haven’t.”

The bells on the clock downstairs began to chime and Harry swore he could hear someone laughing.  He rolled his eyes and figured he might transfer his godfather to the attics anyway.

He stood to his feet and moved away from the two women doing their best to corner him. 

“My dear, birdie, do remind me.  What do Sunflowers symbolize?”

“Umm, I’m so glad you asked, mum.  I do believe they are often seen as a symbol of faith and devotion, radiating positivity and hope. In some muggle, Eastern religions, like Buddhism, sunflowers are considered sacred and represent spiritual enlightenment. Their ability to turn towards the sun is seen as a metaphor for the human quest for enlightenment and self-re-”

“That’s more than enough, Jaymes - thank you.”  Harry called, turning on his heel to regard Astoria and Jaymes both stifling their laughter at his expense.  

“You two are quite insufferable, you know that?”

“Dad, I’m… I’m so sorry…”  Jaymes spoke between her peels of laughter.  “You just - oh my god, you make it so obvious and so easy.  Why does it bother you?”  There was a smile in her voice that matched her beautiful eyes.  

Harry’s breath caught in his throat, when he noticed the little dimple appear in her left cheek.  

“Honestly, Dad, it’s Ms. Aurora you’ve been seeing, right?”

He took a deep breath, letting the air fill his lungs and flow through his body. Of the most important people in his life, these two women ranked pretty high… And if he was going to start informing people of his affection for Aurora - this perhaps was the best place to start.  

“It is,” he said evenly. 

The young girl’s face lit up, a joy filling her eyes that was identical to her mother’s.

Harry let out a huff of a laugh.  “You mustn’t look at me like that, either of you.”

“And what is wrong with the way we look at you, dear?”

“It’s not… I - I’m not sure if, if this is going to work… I’m not certain I can-”

Jaymes listened to the bumbling of her father’s words and looked to her mother who in turn winked at her.  

He was a fool, a fool in love… 

“Dad,” she interrupted his continued floundering, thinking he looked rather adorable wrapped within his own insecurities.  “Are you afraid?”

“What?  Certainly not!”

“Oh, that’s good, because for a moment there you sounded an awful lot like those wimpy Gryffies.”

“What?  What do you mean ‘wimpy Gryffies’?”  Harry Potter could not have been any more confused than he was at present.  

Jaymes laughed while Astoria politely covered her lips with the back of her hand.  “Gryffindors are known for their courage and loyalty, but along with those rather amiable qualities, they are also overly dramatic, prone to fits of whimpering and self-pity, and I’m surprised you haven’t heard this before.”  

Harry remained flabbergasted at her terribly rude and… 

Well…

Rather astute observation.  

“That’s enough, you’re confusing me!”

“It’s quite alright, Harry.  There’s no need to overreact, not every emotion is easy to feel.”

“She’s quite right Dad, it’s alright to be afraid of your feelings - of not knowing what it is you want.”

Harry was growing agitated by the incessant chatter filling the room.  He was lost in the swirl of exhaustion and all the different shades of love currently surrounding him and … and that bloody well was Sirius’s laughter he heard echoing up the stairs.

“I’m in love with her!”Harry said firmly and with finality.  “I’m not afraid of my feelings.  I’m… I am in love with Aurora,” he lifted his face, keeping his eyes tightly shut, forcing out the last bit.  “I love her.”

Silence.

He opened one eye, half expecting the women across from him to be smirking in unison; collectively smug in their knowledge that they’d outmaneuvered him into exposing a great deal more than he’d wanted to.  Instead, however, he found both of them, eyes bright and hopeful.  Astoria’s hand over her heart and Jaymes’s hands cupping her own cheeks.  

Harry hung his head, feeling the lack of sleep beginning to creep its way through his overstimulated brain into his body.  There was far too much being thrust upon him in the past twenty-four hours and Harry felt he’d reached the threshold of his ability to care.

That is, until the warm, slight arms of his daughter came up to wrap around his waist, followed by the slight pressure of her head against his shoulder.  

“Why does that make you nervous, Dad?”  Her voice was full of patience and love.  

How had he ever done anything in his life, well enough, to deserve this beautiful girl’s love?

He wrapped his arms around her shoulders and cradled her head to his chest.  He lifted his gaze to look over the top of her head and into the masterpiece that was his ex-wife.  

“It’s hard to explain, JJ.” 

“Is it?” 

The thick brow dissecting a rather impressive scar running along the edge of his face lifted in surprise at his daughter’s response. .  

“I hate to say it Dad, but you're being a little bit Ravenclaw in addition to a wimpy Gryffy.”

“Raven-,” Harry barked out a laugh.  “I have never been accused of being Ravenclaw, in my life!”

She lifted her shoulders nonchalantly as she pulled away from his embrace.  

“Alright then.  Do enlighten me,” he sighed, before taking another seat.  

“You’re overthinking all of this.”

Harry leaned back in his seat, scoffing inwardly at his daughter’s words.  There was no possible way she could know just how damaging a relationship with the wrong person could be.  Not that he considered Aurora the wrong person, it was just complicated.  

It was his job to overthink things, especially when it came to his family.  

“I know you must think it’s your civic duty and your reason for being on this Earth, but…”Her eyes were focused on something far away, a thought churning in her mind over and over - trying to be deciphered. “But there’s more to it than how this will affect everyone around you, Dad.  You are allowed to be a little selfish sometimes.”

Jaymes took a deep breath, but didn’t utter another sound, instead her eyes remained fixed on whatever topic was currently floating about in her mind, prompting Harry to glance at Astoria who was focused on Jaymes working through her next words.  

And after careful consideration, the young girl finally looked at her mother who nodded and smiled.  “Go on, my love,” she whispered, encouraging Jaymes to come out with whatever was on her mind.  

It only occurred to Harry, right before she began to speak, that what she was about to divulge had more to do with what she’d  been discussing yesterday with her mum than anything to do with his love life.  

He straightened in his seat, leaning over to rest his elbows on his knees.  He ran a hand through the fringe of hair hanging over his glasses and took a deep breath.  

“What would you say if I told you, hypothetically of course, that I wanted to be a doctor?”

The shift in topic to something that was rather awesome and quite anticipated took off guard, but Harry smiled dutifully.  

“I’d say that’s fantastic!”

She nodded, a patient expression on her face - as if she knew he didn’t fully grasp what she was saying. “I want to be a doctor, dad, not a healer.”

Harry’s eyes widened as he leaned back in his seat.  “As in a muggle practitioner…”

She smiled.  “Yes.”

“Which would mean muggle university.”

“Yes.”

And suddenly a few things made sense: the secrecy she implored when discussions of her future arose, when she was always vocal about her three-to-four step plans.  Her hesitant use of magic, preferring instead to embrace the ‘muggle’ way of doing things. 

Harry was surprised by this new information, though the longer he considered it - the more it made sense.  It wasn’t as if he’d raised her away from the muggle word…

They’d spent Easters and Christmases with Dudley and his family  on more than one occasion, and Aunt Petunia did dote on his little girl by sending her outlandish gifts for each and every birthday, citing Jaymes as the only granddaughter she would ever have.  Hermione had made it her business to ensure Jaymes knew of muggle libraries and museums and… 

There was no shortage of muggle things Harry was certain Jaymes knew of and had an appreciation for.  But to build her life, to choose a career that was so … non-magical?

He looked at Astoria who nodded and smiled, quietly submitting her support.  

It wasn’t that he had a problem with her choosing muggle life… It just meant he was that much closer to losing her, didn’t it?

Harry looked back up to Jaymes, her eyes wide and expectant.  There was nothing he could do but support her, because all he wanted was for her to be happy.  That’s all that mattered.

“That’s what you were talking to your mother about, yesterday?  When she told you that I would understand… That I would help you any way I could.”

Jaymes nodded.  

“Well, she’s not wrong, JJ,” Harry sighed.  “If that’s what you want, then that’s what we’re gonna do.”

Her cheeks turned a deep red as she sucked in a quick breath.  “Really?  Just like that?  You don’t need to know the rest of the plan?”

Harry chucked.  “I mean, I do have quite a few questions, like what brought this about? And do you know where you want to go, and I don’t know, JJ…”  He huffed out a short laugh.  “I’m sure there’s quite a few things I will have an opinion on, but if this is what you want?  If this is going to make you happy, honey, that’s all that really matters…  I just want you to be happy.”

The burst of excitement rolling off of his daughter seemed a bit much for the moment but she perked up, reaching for his hands as a gentle slope of her lips implied this was what she had wanted him to say since the beginning.  

“And that is all I want for you, too.”  His lungs ceased to pull oxygen in, as something large and full of emotion settled on his chest.  The backs of his eyes immediately began to sting and she only tightened her fingers around his.  “I just want you to be happy, daddy.  She makes you happy.”

The threat of uncontained emotion pushed against his barriers and Harry stifled as best he could the burning of his tears, forcing their way out.  

“I, uh…” His voice came out a raspy, small, breath.  “I love you so much, my bluejay.”  He could live a thousand lifetimes and still never accomplish anything worthy enough to deserve the unbiased, purity of her devotion.

“I love you too, Dad.”  Her voice was full of things she couldn’t say, things she didn’t have the capacity to say.  “So, so much.”

“So, muggle university…?”

“Yeah,” Jaymes said softly, smiling at her father - no longer afraid to share with him, finally, her plans for the future.  

***

He’d successfully delivered his little girl back to school, set up an appointment to discuss the logistics of Jaymes’s future plans with Headmistress McGonagall and promptly returned home to succumb to his exhaustion.

Harry awoke nine hours later - head foggy and heart full.

He passed the study, sending a smile and a wave toward the woman sitting there, endlessly taking her tea.  She acknowledged him by lifting her cup in cheers then returned  to the book laid open on her lap.  

The completion he felt at the subtle gesture from Astoria propelled him down the stairs and to his own office, pulling the stack of files Coronado and Sallow must have had sent over during his ‘nap’.

It wasn’t a hard task, to dissect through the records and fall into a rather familiar rhythm, reading through the reports from the foreign ministries’ break-ins and comparing them to the British Ministry’s.  

It wasn’t long before he had an impressive flow chart, pinpointing where this rogue coven had begun their searches, seized control of certain offices and stolen particular relics and precious stones.  

It was rather fascinating, considering how deep within each consulate they’d been able to infiltrate prior to being caught, and even in some instances, like the Austrian’s, weren’t caught at all.  They were patient and focused in their searches.  

They weren’t greedy in their seizes - seemingly taking only what they needed. 

They weren’t impatient, as was the case at the Egyptian Ministry - having ciphered the intel they needed over the course of several months.  

Harry was intrigued by the reach this coven seemed to have.  They were sophisticated and elegant, and it showed in their dedication to their cause.  

It would have reminded him of Riddle and his reach from beyond the grave, following the First Wizarding War, but even the m.o. of his Death Eaters was not quite as sophisticated as the Mongolian hive.  

Which led him to wonder, who exactly were they trying to resurrect?

Harry leaned back in his chair, waving his wand to send a few images and notes to his evidence board along the back wall.  

After twenty years of perfecting a system with which he reviewed his notes, he’d finalized on the current layout, cultivated  and clear in each line of theory and lead.  

He briefly thought of Aurora and the mass of information coating her walls, her chaotic energy and fervent power taking on the physical form of everything around her; her work appearing as a tangible manifestation of her inner madness.  

The smile crept along his lips thinking of her, of her brilliance and wonder.  

He jerked his shoulders, trying to dispel her from his thoughts. 

He couldn’t afford to be distracted; there were still significant amounts of work left to do, he still needed to reason out why of all the other ministries the British Department of Mysteries had been the only mysteries department worthy of their infiltration.  

Knowing they were searching for the stone made it obvious Hermione’s research would be something they needed to get their hands on.

What wasn’t obvious, however, was what they needed it for.  

It was made very clear, following the second war, that the hallows were not involved.  Hermione had been the chiefest among those who’d insisted upon burying the myth of those relics.  

And if she’d spent her very public image denying the truth and existence of those items, why then would she spend her career researching them, studying them out?  

The coven was far too smart and far too ahead of the curve to think Hermione’s research would get them any closer to the stone.  No, there was something else they were after…

Something else they needed….

Something else they were looking for…

“Knock, knock,” came a familiar voice. 

Harry swivelled at the gentle sound to see the subject of his concern smiling from the doorway.

“Hey Hermione,” Harry sighed, leaning forward in his seat, waving a hand over his desk to magically disillusion the documents there.  

“Looks like Sallow has already spoken to you then,” she said, moving into the office to take a seat across from him.  

“Sallow, Coronado, Ron and even Teddy,” he confirmed.  

Hermione nodded, no doubt rummaging through her thoughts, considering what she could and couldn’t say.  

“In terms of the breach, I’m not able to divulge the specifics of my work.  Sallow was rather adamant about that.”  Harry nodded, already knowing the protocols in place for Unspeakables - already aware that there would be little to nothing Hermione could actually tell him of what she was researching down there.  

It couldn’t have been the hallows though…  Harry had known her for a very long time, and Hermione Granger-Malfoy would not have spent time researching something that was of no practical or even impractical use.  She would not have spent even a second discerning secrets that would not be useful or beneficial to others…

“You didn’t stop by to talk about that,” he intoned, taking in the tiredness in her eyes and the weariness in her shoulders as she sat, slumped and exhausted across from him.  

“Not particularly, no…”

He cleared his throat.  

He was well rested, and in a rather pleasant mood - but if she was here to discuss a particular witch with a mane of silver curls, he wasn’t sure he had the strength to plunge into those depths just yet.  

“I have very real, very damaging things that, if in the wrong hands, could spell disaster for a lot of people,” she said, twisting her fingers together, her focus intent on something in the distance.  “And yet, all I can seem to think about is … is the look of betrayal in her eyes.”

Harry was quiet.  

“I’ve spent so much time… so much time worried about how my past will affect her, worried about how my actions will be viewed by her and… And it hasn’t mattered, because I've still let it all affect her anyway.  By trying to protect her, I’ve…”

Harry watched this formidable woman he’d known for the vast majority of his life consider her well thought out plans and realize she’d been wrong.  Perhaps she hadn’t chosen the best course of action when it came to raising her equally headstrong daughter.

“I need to talk to her, to tell her…” Her voice cut out, as if she’d run out of words to express what exactly  it was she needed to tell Aurora.  Harry leaned over the desk to reach a hand toward her. 

“I’m sure she will listen, Mione… You just have to be…”  Harry thought of Jaymes, of all her youthful wisdom.  “Just be brave with what you want to say.”  He smiled, channeling what his daughter would say in this moment.  “You’re a Gryffindor.  Be a Gryffindor.”

This comment infused a bit of humor into Hermione’s anxiety, allowing for a  soft chuckle to tumble from her chest. She leaned forward to place her hand in his and tightened her grip.  

“I tried to, this morning actually.  I tried to floo over but she had it closed.”

Harry’s brow furrowed, slightly confused as to why Aurora would still have it closed.  He thought after they’d spoken the previous night, Aurora would have reopened it.  

“Not that I blame her, of course.  It’s just so complicated… But I don’t want to anger her any more than I already have.”

Harry relaxed and thought over his words carefully. 

“I-I was … recently reminded that love is not entirely rational…”  Harry cleared his throat.  “...that sometimes our children see the best in us, even when we can’t see it ourselves.  And that they are rather uncomplicated.”

“Our children?  Our children are uncomplicated?” She said it slowly, testing how it sounded coming out of her mouth.  

It sounded like utter shite, he already knew. 

Harry laughed.  “Yes, our children.”  He straightened in his seat thinking over the last conversation he’d had with Hermione during dinner.  

“You know, Jaymes finally told me what she wants to do after Hogwarts.”  He pulled away, to lean back in his chair.

“Oh?”

“She wants to be a doctor.  A muggle doctor.”

“Harry!  That’s wonderful!”  Hermione sat up straighter, her hands covering her heart in excitement.  “How do you feel about that?”  Her voice softened.

“I’m proud of her, Hermione. Truly.  I never thought that would be what she wanted… But after everything we’ve gone through, with her mother and magic… It honestly makes the most sense.  And I’m so proud of her.”  His voice wavered over the last few words.  

“I just want her to be happy, you know?  That’s all that really matters to me.  That she’s safe and happy and… and…”  He lost his breath when Aurora filled his mind, a sudden burst of energy flooding his heart.  

Hermione reached for Harry’s hand again, not realizing his words were lost for another reason entirely.  

Harry took a deep breath, clearing his throat from the excess of emotion, preparing to speak again when suddenly a beam of soft light filled the room.  A silvery-blue mist ran through the corners of his office, clouding around the pair of old friends until, at last, the fog settled between them in the form of an erumpent.  Scaled massively down from its normal size to fit at the center of his desk, it pranced in a circle once, then turned to Harry, preparing to charge.  

Harry’s brows furrowed as an anxious tension filled his stomach.  

Hermione released his hand, as the patronus remained, poised to charge at Harry, its horn oscillating between a dark silver and a white colored fog.  The little creature said nothing, hinted at nothing, but continued staring at Harry for another few moments before uttering a single word.

A single world, laced with a certain amount of urgency in the tone that sent chills along his skin.  

“Harry!”  

He took a deep breath, eyes glued to the spot the miniature erumpent had just disappeared from, his heart beating so hard he felt it might burst from his chest.  

“Ha,” Hermione tilted her head in confusion, “that looked like Stella.”  She turned her attention back to Harry, her gaze neutral.  

Of course she would not react to the presence of the little creature.  There was no reason she had to assume that the erumpent belonged to Aurora.  There was no reason for her to piece them together.  But Harry knew - he knew that was Stella, his girlfriend’s patronus. He knew that was his girlfriend’s voice, he knew the way with which she called out for him meant something was terribly wrong. 

“Whose patronus was that Harry?”  She asked, concentrating rather hard.  

His eyes lifted to hers, an apology already evident in his expression.  This was not the moment, this was not the opportune moment to come clean about his involvement with Aurora Malfoy.   

He was petrified.

He’d faced mad-men, maniacs, dark wizards and creatures alike - but Hermione Granger-Malfoy was still scarier than them all.  

Her placid, neutral expression began to shift ever so slightly.   “Whose was it, Harry?”

He opened his mouth to respond when almost immediately an unbearable burning sensation erupted at the base of his back.  

Hermione, likewise feeling the heat, reached for hers.  

He scanned the short message appearing on the coin and looked to Hermione at the same time she looked to him.  

“Break In,” she whispered.  

Harry’s magic immediately began to blaze within his veins and he finished her thought. 

“Hemlock Grove.”

Chapter Text

Break in. 

Hemlock Grove.

Break in. 

Hemlock Grove.

Break in. 

Hemlock Grove.

Break in. 

Hemlock Grove.

Break in. 

Hemlock Grove.

The two lines that had appeared on the coin bounced violently around his mind, like a bludger loose in a locked cage.  The words banging against his reason, against his logic, against his patience.  

But for all the chaos spinning through his mind, the only thing that made sense was that it had to be connected.  

It had to.

Harry vaguely heard a stream of words coming from Hermione - only slightly aware she was standing there, speaking to him.  But he wasn’t hearing any words, not fully.  

He reached for her arm and spun on the spot, apparating straight from their location in his office to the front steps of the Cottage at Hemlock Grove.  

Hermione gasped in shock while Harry’s heart plummeted down into his feet.  

The front wall of the house, where her office sat, had been blown completely apart, like a body blasted to bits by a bombarda.  Ash and broken pieces of wood and stone lay scattered across the lawn. 

The sun hung low in the sky, casting an eerie glow over the remnants of what had once been her house.  

Memories resurfaced of the war, of finding safe houses exposed and destroyed, just like this.  Harry took a shuddering breath - how… what happened?   

This one, this cottage had been secure… They had never had any concerns that it might be found, that they might be unsafe.

Now, it lay in ruins, a tragic testament to the chaotic forces of destructive magic. The air was thick with the acrid scent of charred wood and singed grass, mingling with the sweet, musty smell of her books and the faintest hint of something floral that lingered, as if the cottage's mistress had spent all that she was to protect her home from devastation.

Debris was strewn about the yard like confetti. The same yard he’d held her on less than twenty four hours ago.  Shattered pieces of roof tiles glimmered in the waning light, their once comforting colors ruined by soot and ash. A twisted wooden beam jutted out from the ground, like a wounded creature, its surface blackened and splintered. Nearby, an overturned flowerpot lay cracked and empty, while wilted blooms hung limply over the edge, their petals crispy and curled, a far cry from the bright, cheerful colors that had once adorned the cottage's garden.

A solitary window frame remained intact, standing defiantly amid the wreckage, but the glass was shattered, glimmering like fallen stars on the grass. A scorched curtain, once a vivid shade of blue, fluttered feebly in the breeze, a ghostly reminder of the cozy home that had stood here. As the wind whispered through the ruins, it carried with it the melancholic rustle of pages from scattered books, their spines broken, pages burnt. One particularly large tome lay open on the ground, the title barely readable through the burns: Advanced Charms and the Consequences of Recklessness.

The devastation was profound. One of her work tables had been hurled into the air, landing in a heap alongside an assortment of different sized crystals.  A kettle, once polished to a shine, now lay dented and covered in ash, its spout aimed awkwardly toward the sky. A silver spoon gleamed among the debris, but its reflective surface was marred by dark smudges of soot.

As the shadows lengthened, the scent of burnt wood and magic hung heavily in the air, mingling with an inexplicable sweetness—perhaps the lingering essence of the white roses and green apples that had once flourished in the garden. The cottage’s destruction seemed to echo through the trees, their leaves rustling softly, as if mourning the loss of a beloved neighbor.

A few enchanted trinkets had survived the explosion, albeit in a state of chaos. A wooden broomstick lay cracked but upright, its bristles frayed and lifeless. A small cauldron, charred but still intact, bubbled ominously in the wreckage, emitting faint puffs of smoke that danced upward, curling into the evening sky like a silent lament.

In the quiet aftermath, one could almost hear the memories of laughter and warmth that had once filled the cottage, now replaced by an unsettling silence—a reminder that in the world of magic, devastation can come swiftly, leaving behind only echoes of what once was.

Teddy and Ron emerged from the still intact front door, with Prudence trailing behind.  

“What happened?”  Harry demanded, unable and unwilling to notice the harshness of his tone.  

“I’m not sure.” Teddy said.  “Pru and I had dinner at The Burrow and tried to floo here afterwards, but the floo was locked, so we apparated, straight into the house and … and it was…”

“You sent the alert?”  Hermione asked, rolling her protean coin between her fingers

He nodded.  “I still have my Dad’s coin; Harry gave it to me…”

“Where’s Aurora?”  Hermione demanded - her voice strained - clinging to what sounded like hope.  

Teddy shook his head, opening and closing his mouth like a fish out of water.  

“She was-,” Pru began to say when Hermione gasped again, sucking in a ragged breath.

“Oh my god,” Hermione whined before bolting across the lawn and into the house.  Her screams for her daughter rang through the destruction spilling out of the cottage.

“Aunt Mione!” Prudence called, racing after her.  

“She wasn’t here when we got here,” Teddy was finally able to say.  Harry didn’t realize he’d been holding his breath until that very moment, finally letting out a small sigh of relief.  

She was alive, wherever she was, she was alive…  She had to be. 

Harry tried to shove down the bile rising in his stomach.  He stared at Teddy - his palms beginning to sweat and his muscles tensing.  She was missing.

Aurora was missing.  

Aurors would need to go through the house, look for any clues.  Ron would make inquiries, put out alerts, Teddy would help him comb through the house for any lingering magical signatures that shouldn’t be there, but Harry knew there would be none.  

Nothing would register with any of the departments.  

There would be nothing to find because…

Because it was all connected. 

The thoughts swirled through his mind, disjointed and half formed - causing an influx of adrenaline and magic to surge throug his veins, igniting that familiar and unwelcome itch in his fingers. 

What had Hermione said last night?   

She'd ‘joined the Ministry… to understand her magic.’   

Aurora’s magic… 

That’s what she was researching in the Department of Mysteries - Aurora’s core.  Most likely the core of all The Boomers too, but specifically her children; her daughter’s.  

And that’s why the fucking Mongolian coven had delineated from their normal pattern of infiltration all over Europe. They’d somehow caught the scent of her magic, Rory’s magic, and like a fucking nifler after the scent of gold, went right to where she was and took her without a second thought.

Harry looked to Ron, his expression grave.  “You’ll need to go - put out an alert, but try to keep it as close to the vest as possible.  Then you’ll have to get to Malfoy, to let him know.”  

“An alert for what?  And to let Malfoy know what?”  Ron whispered.  “Mate, you haven’t been in there yet… The girl’s not in there?  But I can’t say for certain if she… if she is even still al-”

“No!”  Harry snapped.  The weight of desperation growing heavier and heavier by the second.  He refocused his eyes, actually taking in the redness of Ron’s face.  The coil of fear evident in the way he gripped his wand tight in his fist.  

He needed to calm down… He needed to harness the aggression and mania trying to seep from his pores.  Teddy would know… Teddy knew where the aggression came from, but it didn’t matter.  Harry had a job to do - he… 

He couldn’t -

Oh, fuck…

He sucked down a steadying breath, willing himself to hold it together.  

“An alert for missing person.  Give us maybe half an hour before you bring the MLE.”  He could feel Ron’s hackles rise at the suggestion of waiting - but Harry didn’t have the time to explain why he was going to do his best to keep this as quiet as possible. “And for Malfoy…”  

Harry’s heart seized at the thought of his own daughter; how would he react if she’d been taken?  If she was… 

No, he thought.  You can not do that!

“Just tell him there’s been an incident.  Hermione and I are working through it and to get here as soon as he can.” 

“It will be easier to portkey him back - Robbards should have a reserve of them for Hogwarts.”  Teddy offered

Ron shuffled his feet, his grip tightening on his wand.  He didn’t like the plan, it was obvious he didn’t like the plan. “He does,” Ron finally said.  “But…”

“Just do it, Ron!” Harry panted - doing his best to draw in enough air.  His lungs weren’t working properly; his breathing was too erratic, too unstable.  

His oldest, dearest friend stared for a moment, no doubt wondering what had Harry so agitated, so on edge.  They’d worked through thousands of cases, hundreds of missing persons over the years and he’d never been quite this affected.  

“Please,” Harry said, forcing his voice to be far less desperate. 

He tried to reason within himself - Ron had seen Aurora grow up, Ron had been her best friend’s father… And as far as Ron knew, he had more reason than Harry to be emotional about her disappearance.

It wasn’t like Harry could tell him how he’d begun using the same shampoo Aurora did, so he could smell the sweet, subtle scent of tangerines throughout the day; just to try and stay close to her.  He couldn't tell Ron about the way she tasted when she cried, delicate and precious.  He couldn’t tell Ron about the soft, warm feel of her skin when she laughed or the beauty in the dusting of silver freckles along her shoulder blades.

How to make him understand that he had to find her?

Harry swallowed down the burn of his magic, licking up his spine like fire, unable to be extinguished.  It was growing - fanning the flames of his panic and… 

And he needed to find her.   

“I’ve been following her, finding her, for years now…”  He closed his eyes and was met with a pair of beguiling ones; one a shimmering green, the color of lilies in spring, one a smooth, rich brown that made his mouth water.  

He looked back to Ron, swallowing down his panic.  “Hermione and Draco, they’ve…”  Harry saw for a brief moment, a genial smile pull the sad look on Teddy’s face apart.  “They asked me to keep an eye on her when she began working for Zabini.”  He took a breath, why was it so fucking hard to breathe?   “If… If she’s lost - I will find her.  I will always find her.”  

Ron was quiet, the confusion clear in his expression, but quiet all the same.

He felt sick to his stomach.  It was as if he were moving far too slow, when everything within him was flying a mile a minute.  “Please, Ron.  I need you to handle Malfoy while I start figuring this out.”

Ron hesitated a moment longer, looking once to Teddy before spinning on his heel, disapparating to carry out Harry’s request.  

The moment he disappeared, Harry slumped over, bracing himself on his knees.  He couldn’t…

He couldn’t breathe. 

“It’s alright, it’s alright Harry,” Teddy said, moving quickly to Harry’s side, rubbing a hand over his back.  “She’s-”

“Don’t, Ted.”  Harry huffed, standing tall and forcing his body to move into the house.  “Just don’t.”

He stepped through the front door, which was ironically still perfectly intact, then scanned the large, open room.  The kitchen, primarily located on the far back, was mostly undisturbed, but the closer his gaze moved from the kitchen, through the living room and toward her office…

 It was as if a bomb had gone off.  The debris from whatever struggle had ensued, it spiraled in a web-like pattern, sprawling from the fireplace, in clusters all the way to the edge of the stairs.  

Harry could hear Hermione somewhere upstairs, the high pitch of her voice casting spell after spell, trying to summon her, trying to call for her, trying with all her might, will all her magic, to find her baby.  

He couldn’t think about last night - about the moments he’d spent here with her, listening to her tell him that she loved him.  Listening to her unfold for him like a rare and beautiful flower.  

The tribal spears hanging over the mantle were blasted to bits, in pieces on the ground.  The framed Hindi texts were swinging in the light breeze blowing through the cracks in the walls, the pages scorched and exposed to the air.  the Germanic pottery, the book of Slavik Runes, the records and her sunflowers…  

The sofa they’d been sitting on, the rug they’d danced on, the mugs that had been resting on the coffee table when he’d left…

Break in.

Hemlock grove.

It was all in ruins, all obliterated, flung across the room as if they’d never been anything of importance at all.  

Where he once saw her in all her complexities notched into each surface of the cottage, in every trinket and each book, now he saw only destruction. 

She was still here, within the madness, only now she was broken and ripped apart at his feet.  

His Aurora.

“Did you find anything?”  Harry asked, his voice heavy with a degree of fear he’d been unaware he could possess.  

Teddy was leaning against the arch leading into Aurora’s office, arms crossed over his chest, shaking his head ‘no’.    

Harry walked through the broken bits of the sofa they'd been lounging on the night before.  

“It was them , Ted.  I know it was.” He said softly.  Scanning the den where she worked - realizing that most of the fallout was there.  Her work tables were shattered, along with her potion stores.  Her brewing lab was cracked in half, and the three remaining walls were covered in black soot from whatever fire spells they’d conjured.  

“How do we find them?” Teddy asked quietly, his voice full of a nervous energy that Harry felt already filling his chest.  

There was a rush of footsteps from upstairs, followed by the rapid, labored breathing of Hermione.  

Harry's attention snapped to her the moment she appeared.  

“What do we do?”  She asked, cheeks red and tear stained, her soft brown curls vibrating from nerves or rage… Harry wasn’t sure. 

He was sure that whatever she felt, he wasn’t too far behind.  

“It’s alright, Hermione.  I think-”

“Alright?  ALRIGHT?!  It is NOT alright, Harry Potter!  My child is missing!  Her house…” She waved her arm toward the rest of the house, her voice giving out as she lost her balance. 

“Aunt Hermione!”  Pru reached out to steady her, the emotional strain clear in the way her hands gripped onto her best friend’s mother.  

“Here,” Ted took Hermione’s hand and led her to the kitchen, and sat her at a stool.  Pru conjured a glass of water and handed it to her, encouraging her to drink.  

After a few moments, the four of them collectively took a breath.  

“Where’s Ron?”  Hermione asked no one in general.

“I sent him to get a portkey, to get Draco.”  

“Yes, good. Good.” She said in a daze, her eyes glazed over in thought.  

“Hermione, can you…”  Harry hesitated, looking over to Teddy first then Pru, still standing beside Hermione, her hands gently rubbing her shoulder.  “Is it Aurora’s signature you’re studying? At the Ministry?”

She looked up to him, eyes large and unseeing.  

She couldn’t answer, the magic of being an Unspeakable wouldn’t let her answer, even if he was wrong.

He wasn’t wrong.

“It’s the coven, the Mongolian’s,” Harry said, accepting her silence as confirmation and moving onto the next plausible scenario.  “The hive Padma mentioned last night.”

He was going through the motions - that’s all he could do right?  Continue on as if she were still just his best friend’s daughter.  The girl he’d been tasked to find over and over again.  

It’s only Aurora Malfoy, a headstrong, foolish girl… It’s only Draco and Hermione’s daughter.

It’s only a job.

It’s only…

“But why her?  She has nothing to do with the stone!”

“It could…” Pru said, before realizing she’d done so.  She closed her mouth tightly when the three other sets of eyes turned her way.  

The air around him was stifling and his magic was restless.  Rising, pulsing, and  swelling within him.  She was out there, with people who were smart, calculating and…

“No, Pru, what is it?” Teddy encouraged, moving toward her.  

“Well, the coven is after the Stone right?  But it technically doesn’t exist…  So, I don’t know, I just…”  She looked between Teddy and Harry, her bright violet eyes rimmed red with tears for her best friend.  “If I were looking for something that doesn’t exist, I might try to find the next best thing…”

“She’s right, Harry.”  Teddy turned to him.  “They’ve been pilfering through ministry after ministry, searching through more than just rumor and lore.”

“It’s why they took her,” Harry said, his voice coming out in a rough pant of air.  He leaned against the wall, feeling the effects of too much air rushing into his lungs and not expelling enough of it out.

He couldn’t lose her.  

He couldn’t lose her.

Break in.

Hemlock Grove.

Break in.

Hemlock Grove.

Break in.

Hemlock Grove.

In his mind, all he could see was her bound and gagged in a cage… Her bright, colored eyes watching him, waiting for him.

Harry looked again to Teddy who was nodding in agreement, before looking at Hermione, eyes red, arms trembling, twisting her fingers over and over again in worry.  

There was a knowing, a deep rooted absolute certainty within him that took control of everything else.  A sensation propelled by the remnants of dark magic, still floating through his veins, quiet and tempered, but there.  

He knew, that he knew, that he knew it was to do with her magic, her core.  

“They couldn’t get the stone…”  He began to say.  “They couldn’t find confirmation of its existence anywhere, so they began searching for a replacement.”  He was looking at Hermione - through her really.  Unseeing as the answer formulated in his mind.

“A replacement for .. for the Resurrection Stone?”  Prudence asked, the fear in her voice exposed and relatable.

“No, Harry - no!  It’s not… It wouldn’t…”

“You know it’s possible, Mione.  It’s the only thing that makes sense.”  

“NO!  Because that would mean that, that-”

Harry was in her face, wrapping her hands in his, squeezing them, trying to rub some warmth back into them.  

“Her magic is … infinite,” Hermione was staring into the space between them, her mind clearly racing through everything she’d been working on, studying.  

Harry had known her, had been her partner in so many things, for so many years - he understood the glazed over expression and the way her skin went clammy.  

“Her concentration of power, her magic, it’s unstable and responsive.  It’s not… She wouldn’t be able to piece the stone back together.”

“Hermione, it’s not the stone they’re after now.  It’s her.  It’s Aurora!  They’re going to use her instead of the stone.”

Teddy reached for Pru, the motion catching Hermione’s attention, distracting her long enough to allow Harry a moment to think through his theory, which she would not accept.  

Because accepting his theory, accepting his logic meant that she would ultimately blame herself.  She wouldn’t hear anything aside from how she could have stopped this from happening.  

It wasn’t true.  Harry knew this, but he didn’t have time to find the words to prevent her mind from going to that place of blame. 

“No Harry.  No… I - that’s not possible,” she was whispering to herself.  

“Think about it, Mione. It’s the Hallows.  She is practically a hallow.”

The air was sucked from the room, no movement, no sound - all eyes on him as he held her hands close to his chest.  

“Death crafted the stone.  He used his own magic to create something to which his magic was immune.  The stone is a contradiction, an anomaly.  It doesn’t obey the rules of magic because it is in and of itself magic’s undoing.  It’s the opposite of Death, crafted by Death himself.”

“So you’re saying Aurora’s magic is a contradiction?”  Prudence asked.  

“Well that doesn’t track, none of the other Boomers were born with an anomaly. All of their magic seems regulated, with only a singular talent to affect physical or … or metaphysical properties… Like Pru with the elements and Zabini’s eldest with darkness and…” Hermione ran out of breath.   “Aurora can-”

“Aurora was the first, the first person in which that level of magic was so concentrated, into one being.  And you know, Hermione, that magic does not follow protocol, because magic is its own entity.”

It could technically be true, that magic had simply evolved somehow, in the span of one generation. Accommodating exactly what the Ministry had intended with the marriage laws.

“‘Magic’ has rules, but there are no boundaries,” Teddy said, looking at Pru before turning his focus back to Harry.  His hair shifting to a light, bubblegum pink.  

“But then what’s the stone have to do-”

“It’s got to be because they were searching for the stone’s magic… Trying to resurrect someone.  And they stumbled upon…” 

Break in.

Hemlock Grove.

Break in.

Hemlock Grove.

Break in.

Hemlock Grove.

Hermione ripped her hands from Harry’s grasp, moving toward the stairs.  “Oh, God… no…” she murmured to herself. Her voice wobbled with stress. 

Harry wanted to comfort her, but couldn’t. It was obvious… all of it. 

“Anything that would get the hive closer to similar magic the stone possessed.”  Harry said, lost in thought, ignoring the way Hermione leaned against the banister, her body weak.

“It’s probably how she was able to find the stone in the first place,” he whispered to the broken pieces of Aurora.  His mind flooded with the images and sensations of that night, when he’d caught her in the midst of her breaking through his wards.

 “All these years, the need to keep pushing and using her magic...  It was the only thing that made sense - she had to use it before it would burn her from the inside out; like life bursting from the seams...”  Harry was looking about the room, pondering how much of the damage had been from her fighting back.

“Harry, you're speaking in circles,” Teddy said, trying to keep track of Harry’s logic.  

He spun around, the stress and worry still flooding his system keeping him from crafting a clean cut path through his thoughts for them to follow.  

“I’m saying - her magic, specifically , is the closest the Mongolian’s have come to finding a power source sufficient enough to meet their need.  I’m saying that instead of continuing on after the stone, they must have taken her - as their new power source.”

“You don’t think they would have tried to get her to take them to the stone?”

“Right, or maybe she would have offered to take them there?  Right ?”  Pru spoke up.

Hermione turned at his words, eyes bright in anger.  She opened her mouth to speak, but Harry was already answering her question.  

“It can’t be,” Harry said softly, as if speaking to himself.  “She promised me she would wouldn’t go back there, not without-”  

He stopped talking.

He stopped breathing; eyes going wide as he realized what he’d just said…

Time felt warped, stretched thin as anxiety rippled through the air, palpable and suffocating. The bare, broken walls seemed to close in, amplifying the weight of a shared secret.  Shared with each party present, but one.

Break in.

Hemlock Grove.

One eye, a pale, limitless green.  The other a smooth, rich brown…

Silence thickened, wrapping around them like a shroud, as if the universe itself was holding its breath, waiting for the next move.  In that moment, every heartbeat felt amplified, a reminder of the stakes at play. 

An unspoken question hung heavy in the air…

“What do you mean, ‘she wouldn’t have gone back there’ ?”

Harry tried to swallow down his fear.  It was caught in his throat, unmoving and obstinate. He glanced at Teddy, who’s own features reflected the same level of fear. 

Was this it? Was this the moment to tell Hermione he was in love with her daughter? 

Ted shook his head slightly, answering Harry’s unspoken question. 

‘Absolutely fucking not.’

Harry’s blood ran cold.

Fuck.

“H-Hermione, I-” he swallowed, though his throat remained dry. “She found the stones a few months back, and-”

“WHAT?! She FOUND the stones a FEW MONTHS ago?! And you didn’t think to tell me?!” The anger in her voice rattled the kitchenware, still intact. 

Teddy put a hand in front of Pru, moving her to stand slightly behind him as the curls of his Aunt Hermione began to tremble on their own accord.

“What the hell else have you not told me?” She angled her body toward him fully, her fingers turning white on the banister she was still clinging to. 

She took a deep breath and relaxed her fingers, realizing the warm wood beneath her touch was not the right texture. 

Glancing to where her fingers rested, she flexed her hand over the smooth, elegant material, watching the way it hung, casually draped over the railing. 

The color was a soft, almost pale brown, with flecks of charred gold buried beneath the top layers. It was interesting, the sense of deja vu she had while looking at the innocuous piece of material. 

“It’s rather peculiar - that shade…” Hermione whispered to herself, slowly recalling where she’d seen the little scrap of fabric before.  

The tension crackled like static electricity.  

Hermione was at the edge of the room, the muscles in her arms coiling tight, her fists in a vice-like grip - crushing the offensive material in her hand.  He watched her fingers dig into it, as if trying to anchor herself, as if trying to force her mind to accept the truth of something so impossible it could only mean she'd stepped into some mad reality.  Her eyes, a dark raging inferno, snapped to him and he was terrified. 

She knows… 

He knows she knows.

Her lips were pressed into a thin line, quivering ever so slightly as she held back the words that begged to spill out.  Harry noticed the tightening of her jaw, the vein in her neck pulsed…

A beat of silence hung in the air, punctuated only by the low hum of the nearby appliances, still in working order.  Harry glanced once at Teddy and Pru, both equally afraid and frozen, watching the scene play out before them.  

Hermione seized the moment to exhale, and release a breath that had been caught in her throat.  It was a small defiant gesture, but it spoke volumes.  

The flicker of rage in her eyes was unmistakable.  She took a half step forward.

“That was Aurora’s patronus…” her voice was as crisp and concise as a slicing hex.  Harry felt everything within his body stiffen in terror as she continued piecing things together. 

There was a moment, right before the furrow in her brow disappeared, right before she took another step in his direction in which Harry thought he might still be able to salvage this. 

This wasn’t what Hermione needed right now. They needed to find her daughter. 

Break in.

Hemlock Grove.

He can fix this. 

But when the harsh, cold, sting of her hand cracked against the right side of Harry’s face, sending his glasses flying into the debris, Harry was certain there was no salvaging anything.

Chapter Text

“How fucking dare you? ”  She seethed. 

“Hermione!”  Harry was backing away from her, the sensation of her magic thrumming like poison through the air planting the urge within him to run.  

“How long, Potter?  HOW FUCKING LONG?”

“Hermione, please… There’s-”

Harry’s words cut out as Hermione’s wand was instantly in her hand, and the bright, red light of a Confringo was already blasting out in his direction.  

Harry threw a shield up to block her non-verbal spell, but he was not quick enough to properly block the Bombarda she sent immediately after.  It caught his Protego, mid-cast, resulting in his body being thrown back into the sturdy kitchen island.  

Pru’s hands went around Teddy’s waist from behind, the stress of the moment evident in the way she held onto him.  

“They’ve got to stop this,” she whispered loud enough for him to hear over the violent rain of Hermione’s offensive spells.  It was obvious she wasn’t casting to kill. 

But to seriously maim or injure…

And, honestly, Teddy couldn’t be entirely positive she wasn’t trying to kill him.  

“Theodore,” Pru said, her words coated in desperation.  

“I, uh, I can’t just…”The turmoil of emotion in the air was overwhelming.  The problem was, there was no way to differentiate between his godparents.  

There was anguish and ripe festering anger.  There was desperation and confusion and an overwhelming sense of nausea.  

Teddy held his hands against his stomach, the nausea bubbling within him.  And aside from the mostly violent emotions enveloping them, it was primarily fear.  A primitive, baser, instinctual fear that was overshadowing everything else.  “I can’t just infuse them with calm… It doesn’t work like that.”

Teddy held onto Pru’s hand pressed firmly against his chest, doing his best to draw peace from her… But as two-thirds of the Golden Trio continued dueling each other, it didn’t surprise him that fear was overtaking her too. 

“You’ve got to stop this before … before Aunt Hermione does.”

Teddy closed his eyes, focusing on the moment.  The feelings of just a few were spilling out into a massive hurricane of displaced fear and anxiety.  

To anyone else, it might have seemed like a complex argument, perhaps something a bit childish that had simply gotten out of hand, but for an empath like Teddy, the energy was a palpable force, swirling around him like a storm.

He stood frozen, caught in the crossfire of their emotions, each one a fierce wave crashing against him. Anger shot through him like shards of glass, a deep, throbbing pulse that made his heart race. It was a vibrant red, seething and alive, suffusing the air with an intensity that felt almost suffocating.

Across the room, Hermione’s frustration boiled over, her voice rising in volume and heat. Teddy felt the heat radiating off her, a fire igniting in his chest. He clenched his fists, trying to contain the flood of her rage, but it poured over him like a relentless tide. He wanted to scream, to push back, to douse the flames with a cool, calming presence, but the chaos around him made him feel small and helpless.

And then there was Harry, his pain cutting deep and raw. The sadness emanating from him was a heavy blanket, dampening the air with its weight. It wrapped around Teddy, pulling him down into an abyss of sorrow that threatened to swallow him whole. Each sharp word Hermione hurled felt like a dagger, and Teddy winced as if he himself were being pierced by them.

Caught between two worlds, Teddy longed for some semblance of wisdom - some sort of way to piece the two of them back together.  He wished for understanding to seep in and wash away the destructive forces pushing these two against one another. His heart ached for both of them, their tangled emotions knotting together in a complex dance of love and hurt.

With each shout, each tear, the energy swirled around him, and he closed his eyes, drawing in a breath, hoping to find a way to weave his own light into the fabric of their discord. Because deep down, beneath the anger and the festering desperation, he sensed the flicker of connection still flickering, a reminder that even in this dark moment, love could endure.

“I’m with you,” Pru whispered against his ear, her chest pressed firmly against his back. “I’m right here with you, Teddy.”

He took a deep breath, concentrating on how much he loved them. On how much he loved Hermione and Harry and Aurora. 

On how much he loved Pru…

“Breathe,” he murmured to himself, exhaling every ounce of air in his chest. His hands were outstretched to the room and his magic slipped through the atmosphere to coat everything around them in a layer of love. 

The destructive expression clouding Hermione’s features softened, her wand falling from her hand followed by her body sinking to the ground. 

Harry’s wand likewise slipped from his fingers as he bent over, grabbing his abdomen in a clear effort to stifle the gnawing ache that Teddy had awoken within him.

That’s where Teddy’s magic lay, not in forcing emotion upon another, but in reaching for the emotion already within a person and letting it build and build until there’s no room for it to be contained.   

In this instance, it was the gnawing ache of love and devotion. 

Pru rushed to Hermione’s side as the elder witch devolved into a fit of tears, the overbearing weight of love submerged her heart to the point she couldn’t stand. 

“Ted,” Harry gasped, sinking to his knees beneath the power of it. “Please, that’s… that’s enough, son,” he sucked in a ragged breath as if he’d been stuck underwater for too long. 

Teddy relaxed his shoulders, releasing his mental hold on the emotion surrounding them, unlinking himself from the love already in their hearts.  

Hermione sat on the ground, broken pieces of wood and glass strewed about her.  It wasn’t clear if it had all been there already or if it was fresh destruction from her duel with Harry.  

It didn’t matter.  

Tears were still falling from her eyes and Teddy, no longer trying to manipulate their feelings, reached out again to brush against her energy.  

Confusion. Anguish. Betrayal.

She brought the brown piece of cloth back up to her face, inspecting it closely and Teddy felt her anger begin to spike again.  Only this time, it seemed to be far less volatile and far more determined. 

Teddy stood behind his godfather, holding his breath for Aunt Hermione’s next words…

“How. Long, Harry Potter?”  Her voice sounded faint, as if she’d expended all her energy and she’d scraped only enough together to ask this one question.  

“It’s complicated,” Harry said, trying to ease into a conversation with her.  She was, however, having none of it.  Teddy could almost taste the strenuous grip she had on her patience, staring up at Harry. She clung to it with every fiber of her being…  And Harry’s response was not helping. 

“How long,” she whispered, somehow sounding more menacing than before.

Harry swallowed.  “We’ve been official for two months now…”

Silence. 

Whatever she was thinking, along with the onslaught of emotions she was feeling, she shoved them all aside, refusing to entertain all the different ways his words had desecrated her trust in him.  

“How do we find her?”

Harry let out a slight breath, his chest aching, not just from the weight of nerves piling upon him with each passing moment Hermione did not acknowledge his words.   

Her question hung in the air between them, as casual as a light breeze, but it was the way she skipped over the need for clarification, the way she didn’t stop to inquire further, that made his skin crawl.

She was brushing aside a question that should have been screamed, an answer that should have been demanded. 

And Harry?  

Harry knew beyond all shadow of doubt that, despite her cordial silence and calm demeanor, this was not the end of it.

The air in the room seemed to thicken, pressing against Teddy, making his breath feel heavier, shallower. He didn’t like the way she looked at Harry now, her eyes narrowed. The words were there, all of them, swirling in her mind, but Harry couldn’t quite pull them from her—couldn’t quite find the courage to say what he wanted to say.

He just stood there, the unease crawling up his spine, filling the pit of his stomach with something cold and slippery. Harry knew, deep down.  It wasn’t just the way she’d brushed past him. No, there was more. 

Harry glanced at Teddy before taking a step toward Hermione.

“I don’t want to hear it, Harry.”  She snapped before he could take another step.  “I don’t want to hear anything you have to say to me.  I just need to find her.  I need to find my daughter.”  There was a distinct steeliness to her tone that was maddeningly similar to Draco’s.  

It was authoritative and dark and left no room for anyone to argue further.  

Tension filled the air like a thick, oppressive cloud.  It left the air humid and sticky like a summer night right before a storm; something terrible was lurking in the dark, ready to break free at the slightest misstep.

They stood there, staring at each other, none of them quite certain what the next step forward was.

Every path they could take twisted in on itself like a snake coiling tighter the longer they held their breath. 

There were so many clear options, so many decisions they could make, but the weight of not knowing how to proceed - the sheer, suffocating uncertainty of it - was worse than any direction they could choose. It gnawed at them, like a hungry dog at the back of their minds, refusing to let go.

And time? Time was the real enemy. 

Time was the thing they didn’t have. The thing they couldn’t control. It ticked by, steady and mocking, with every passing second more precious than the last. It was a slow, grinding thing that crushed the bones and broke the spirit. They could feel it in their skin, in the pit of their stomachs - time was running out.

Somewhere out there, Aurora was. 

Maybe close. 

Maybe farther than they thought. 

Maybe she was already too far gone. 

All they could do was sit and stare at one another, each silent in their throats, in their helplessness, because none of them had the luxury of knowing what the right way forward was. 

Compounded by the absolute devastation of Hermione now knowing the true relationship between Harry and her daughter, well… Even if one of them knew what the next step was, no one was brave enough to break the tense silence.

But it wasn’t about them, or their discomfort.

They had to pick a path. Any path. And they had to pick it now. 

“We could try to summon her?” Teddy offered.

“I already tried that, several times, and it didn’t work,” Hermione said, pushing herself to her feet.

“We could charm a-” Pru began but was cut off by Harry almost immediately. 

“We would need her blood for that spell,” he was moving through the destroyed remnants of her office, doing his best to disregard the chasm forming between him and Hermione.  

“Honestly, there’s not much we can do that will be quick and effective,” Hermione supplied. 

Teddy let out a mirthless chuckle, causing the three other sets of eyes to turn his direction.  

He cleared his throat, lifting his hands in defense.  “I was just thinking it's ironic, really.  Aurora would be the one to know exactly how to find herself right now.”

Hermione’s head jerked… looking at Teddy, eyes whipping from side to side, considering his words.  

“What did you say?”  Hermione asked slowly.

Teddy swallowed the unease following his senseless quip.  “I, uh… I just mean because she’s so good at finding lost things…”

Hermione looked at Harry, her anger still seeping through her pores.  “And you're so good at finding her, aren't you Harry?” The sarcasm coated every word coming from her mouth.  

Harry shrugged off her disdain.  “Yes, but… this is a little complicated… Aurora always left a sort of trail to be followed.  Her signature is unique - I always had a general location of where to start looking.  She’s been,” he hesitated.  “She’s been abducted, by a very intelligent and resourceful coven.”

“So what’s your point, Harry?  You can't find her?”  Hermione hissed.

“No,” Harry replied, trying not to take her tone too personally.  If this had been Jaymes… and, well… He couldn’t blame her.  He couldn’t blame her overbearing anger.  

It was justified.

“I just mean all I have is a spell that will point me in the right direction… But if she’s out of the country… It won’t work.  It’s not strong enough.”

“Well cast the fucking spell, Harry.  We can at least rule out the UK if she is indeed beyond the boundaries of your magic.”

Teddy cringed at Hermione’s harsh words.  

It wasn’t so much the things she said - but the venom with which she spat them.  The vitriol that laced her voice was possibly the most uncommon place Teddy could have ever anticipated such a sound.  

Harry’s face, sharp and determined, was framed by unruly dark hair, his expression set with unwavering focus.  This was personal… Teddy could feel it in the air, and he knew Hermione could sense it as well.

He raised his wand, its smooth obsidian surface catching the meager light and the air around them seemed to pulse, charged with anticipation.

"Where are you? " he whispered, his voice barely audible.

A deep breath. Then, with a flick of his wrist, he brought the wand high above his head and uttered an incantation Teddy had never heard before.

The air crackled.

A soft glow erupted from the tip of his wand, a pale blue light, delicate at first, then rapidly expanding until it surrounded him. The light shifted, coalescing into a translucent globe, as if the air itself had become solid around him.

The globe shimmered softly, a thin mist of light cascading from its edges. Inside, the world seemed to bend and warp - distorted, like looking through the surface of a pool of water.

A faint buzzing sound filled the air, like the hum of tiny wings. Within the globe, a small, glowing dot of light appeared. It darted frantically across the curved surface, a flicker of pale energy, searching, circling in erratic patterns.

Harry watched intently, his fingers gripping his wand tighter, his gaze narrowing as the glow shifted again. The dot flickered, spinning in circles, its movements stiff, its glow pulsing in quick bursts, searching...

The buzzing grew louder, and more frantic, but still, the dot failed to find its mark. It sped up—faster and faster, a blur of light - vibrating and flying, slipping and sliding across the globe like an insect caught in the wrong current.

"Come on," he muttered, voice tight with frustration. "Show me where you are, please…." His teeth were barred - he must have thought they couldn’t hear him. 

Teddy glanced at Hermione, her dark expression growing darker as she glared at her best friend.  She’d heard him too…

The dot slowed for a moment, as if sensing something, then zipped off once more, skittering across the globe, spinning in chaotic arcs. It moved with increasing desperation, but the pattern never settled. No matter where it went, it found nothing. There was no trace. No connection.

He let out a breath, closing his eyes for a moment, and when he opened them again, the glow around him dimmed slightly, as if the magic itself had begun to lose its patience.

The buzzing faded.

He lowered the wand slowly, the blue globe retracting into the air, flickering out like a candle’s flame caught by a breeze. The broken cottage fell silent again.

He stood there for a long time, staring at the space where the globe had been, his chest rising and falling slowly as if catching his breath.

"Where are you?" He muttered again, but this time there was no urgency, only a quiet, lingering despair.

Teddy took a breath, sensing Harry’s shattered heart.  He’d tried - he’d known it was going to be impossible, and yet he’d held onto the tiniest ray of hope… He could feel how desperately Harry had wanted for that to work.

Just as he could feel the mounting rage of his godmother, standing there, watching Harry’s desperate reach.  

Hermione scoffed, rather loudly, causing his attention to snap in her direction.  

“I told you it wouldn’t work,” he said firmly, defending his spell, defending his herculean effort.  Teddy could feel how hard he’d tried - how intensely he’d pushed his magic to seek hers out - it had been exhausting for him and Hermione…

She was angry - that’s all it was.  She was so unbearably angry with him… 

“I don’t suppose you have a suggestion, hmm?  An alternative means to find her, then?”  Hermione’s voice was akin to iron being sharpened.  

Harry stood in the open door, staring out at the forest, his thoughts consumed with the panic still pulsing through his limbs. He was quiet for what felt like hours, but his mind was racing, turning over possibilities like cards in a hand - each one leading to a dead end. 

Hermione remained still, glaring into the debris still all around them, her brow furrowed in concentration, but her fingers trembling ever so slightly.

Teddy watched her, realizing - it wasn’t just anger keeping her silent… She was ‘Unspeakable Granger-Malfoy ’.

She was circling a concept that had to do with her position in the ministry, and her magic was fighting against her urge to speak her mind.

"I don’t know what else to do, honestly...”  Harry sighed, his heart breaking.  “I know there are a hundred and one different ways to try and find her, but the coven… They’re smart, they’re… they’ve had a plan since the beginning.  I don’t know how to combat that.”  His voice was defeated. “We don’t have the time…”

Hermione shifted uncomfortably, a sheen of sweat on her brow.  She took a deep breath and lowered her hands to the counter before her.  Harry felt awkward, interpreting her silence as continued irritation but Teddy knew it wasn’t just that…  She was struggling to control something - something beyond just the magic they were searching for.

"I... I don’t think... I don’t think it’s about the strength of the spell," she said, her voice catching on the words, as though they tasted strange coming from her mouth.  She stopped, cleared her throat, and continued more slowly.  "The spell itself is technically fine, Harry. The magic is sound."  

Harry raised an eyebrow, not just at her tacit support of his spell, but at the calmness in her tone. "Then…?"

Hermione’s hands twitched, fingers curling as if she wanted to reach for her wand, but stopped short. The faintest tremor passed through her as she struggled to form the words, her eyes darting to the door as if half-expecting someone to barge in.

"I - I can’t explain it exactly," she began, her voice tight with restraint. "The... the interference from my position, from my role, it... it keeps clouding the picture ." She stopped, a pained expression crossing her face as she pressed her lips together. "It’s hard to explain without breaking... certain... protocols ."

Harry’s frown eased in understanding. “You’re thinking there’s something about her core, something specific to her magic that might help-”

Hermione suddenly cut him off, her voice flaring with sharp intensity. "Because," she said, her eyes flashing, needing to voice the thoughts pulsing in her mind.

Harry blinked, startled by the sudden shift in her tone. He turned to face her fully. "What is it, Hermione?"

She hesitated, her hands curling into fists at her sides. "It’s the... the connection, " she said, each word carefully measured.  "You need to understand that sometimes, the right connection is more important than just sheer power."

“Magic isn’t always the answer,” Harry whispered, internalizing and comprehending the underlying meaning of her cryptic explanation.  

He was piecing it together. His gut told him he knew where she was going with this, even as she stammered, words breaking into fragments before she could finish them.

"Like... a blood connection?" Harry ventured.

Hermione’s gaze flickered to him, and for a moment, he saw the briefest flash of uncertainty. She took a deep breath, her hands gripping the edge of the counter.

"Yes... no, not exactly. Not just blood," she said, her voice wavering. "A blood connection is powerful, sure, it’s... it’s stronger than most... But it’s not the thing that could lead us to her."

Harry’s thoughts moved quickly, threading together fragments of conversations they’d had recently and theories he’d been ruminating over since learning of Aurora’s abduction. 

A blood connection would help, but it wouldn’t be enough to breach the veil of magic keeping Aurora’s location hidden. There had to be something else - something deeper.

"Like a..." Harry began slowly, "A magical connection that could form between two people... like the bond between siblings or... people born under similar conditions?"

Hermione’s breath hitched, and for a moment, she closed her eyes. "Yes... yes, that’s it," she said, almost in a whisper. "A magical connection, like the one... the one between Aurora and….”  She stopped herself again, her words fighting her.  "It’s something inherently within her. A shared strain of magic that resonates, that... calls to each other."

Harry felt his pulse quicken. He’d never been one to fully understand the intricacies of magical theory, but he knew what she was talking about. 

They had shared a bond, he and Aurora. Even now, he could feel the faintest echo of it pulling at him, reaffirming his hope that she was still alive. But Hermione wasn’t finished.

"Someone born under the same... conditions," she continued, her voice steadier now, though there was a softness in her tone. "Someone who shares that same evolutionary magical strain, their magic would, theoretically, be strong enough to call to hers."

Hermione’s eyes moved over to Prudence, who had been quietly listening in the corner of the room. 

"It would have to be someone who carries that strain of magic, someone born into it in the same way," Harry said aloud what Hermione wasn’t able to say. "Someone like Prudence."

Hermione glanced at Pru.

Harry understood now - the key wasn’t just proximity or even blood.  It wasn’t even the shared, magnetic, unexplainable pull he experienced with Aurora.  It was the magic itself, the ancient, inherited power that could reach across distances, across barriers that no one else could cross.

"You think... Prudence is how we find her." Harry’s voice was soft with acceptance.

Hermione looked at him, her expression a mixture of acknowledgment and indignation. "I think... I think she’s our best chance. "  It was difficult, in that moment, to accept his implicit support and assistance in verbalizing what she was thinking.  

It was years and years of embedded friendship, a lifetime of having each other’s backs and enduring the losses and traumas and ever-present ghosts of the past.  

But she was so angry with him.  She couldn’t breathe properly because of it.  He was always the one to believe her first, to support her decision, her plan.  She could always count on Harry to throw his weight behind her and take her side, without question.

And now it was completely fucked, just entirely ruined… How could she be thankful for his backing, for his support?  How could she trust him, ever again?

She’d trusted him, with her child.  With the one thing more precious to her than…

The acrimony festering within her heart seeped through whatever gratitude she might have for his complicity. She only stared at him, her eye began to twitch as she stared, at the face of a man she thought she knew.

“I… can’t,” Prudence whispered, snuffing out Hermione’s inner turmoil, bringing her back to the problem at hand.

Teddy moved to take her hand before Hermione could find the words to reassure the young witch.   

On some level, Pru knew she would have to accept what needed to be done.  She knew what they were suggesting and what they were rationalizing, but it hadn’t quite registered until Teddy’s hand squeezed hers.  

Pru turned to regard him, his hair now a dark, rich shade of purple - a reassuring color, a constant color, the same color of the darkest part of her irises.  Her hand was snug and warm within his.

“No,” she whispered, the fear in her heart swelling to an uncontrollable magnitude.  “No,” she repeated.  “I’m not… I’m not the explorer or - I’m not Aurora.  I’m- I’m a researcher.  I don’t… My magic isn’t…” Her hand fell away from Teddy’s as she began to back into Aurora’s study.  

They had this wrong.

They had this entirely wrong.  

Aurora was the vibrant one, the powerful, and … just, no.

No.

The only thing special about her magic was her pull to nature… She - they were, they thought she was…

No.

“Pru,” Teddy was close enough to grasp her shoulders, halting her slow retreat.  

“No, I’m not her, Theodore… I’m not bold and powerful like she is.  Aurora is…”  

Teddy began speaking to her calmly, pulling her against his chest and whispering in her ear as Hermione and Harry watched quietly, anxiety filling their blood as they waited.  

She was their best chance… And they didn’t have time for this - but neither of them could push.  Quietly they watched, adrenaline niggling them to begin the pressure the girl but wisdom forcing them to remain patient.  

“I don’t know how to do what you’re asking,” she said.  Her violet eyes bright and her fingers cold.  

“And no one is expecting you to be, baby,” he cooed, his chest tight from watching this woman, this amazing, powerful, wise… beautiful woman tremble with fear and self-doubt.

“We have to find her,” she breathed.  “She could be hurt or,” she sucked in a breath.  “I don’t … I can’t -”

Teddy pulled her back into his chest, his strong arms anchoring her.  Her quiet sobs, so delicate and refined, were muffled as he cupped the back of her head, his fingers tangling in her hair.  

“Prudence Matilda Weasley,” he said in a hushed voice, his lips pressed against her taking a deep breath.  “You are strong and powerful and…”  Teddy sighed, meeting Harry’s gaze above Pru’s head.  

“I need you to listen to me,” his voice was calm as he let his emotions surround them.  He tried to never let his feelings influence the atmosphere, but there was no way to stop it this time.  “There is nothing you can’t do.  Do you hear me?”  He could feel her fear very slowly begin to ebb.  “You are not Aurora.  You are Pru.  My Pru …”  His grip around her tightened.  

“You are extraordinary, baby.  Absolutely extraordinary.”  His magic began to swell, far beyond his ability to control and there was nothing she could do but cling to him.  

“I know this is complicated and I know you’re far more worried about not being able to find her if you try… but I know you, Pru.  I know your heart … You can do this.”

Pru’s arms around his waist intensified, her fingers digging into the fabric of his coat, and pulled away slightly to gaze up at him.  His magic consumed her.

His heart beat with hers.

The look of dedication, of adoration… of- 

… of love on his face…

She could feel it in her skin; she warmed within his embrace and the feel of his heart seeping through his magic and into her soul lifted her to a different plain of thought and she wasn’t afraid...

“I love you, Teddy.”  She pushed herself up onto her toes to press a sweet, gentle kiss against her lips.  Quick and chaste, not lingering long enough for him to respond in kind.  

“I… I, uh,” he stuttered, dumbfounded by the clarity and earnestness of her words.  The guilelessness in her lovely eyes… It was like a two-hundred-piece orchestra began playing and the first rays of sunlight after a long winter had chosen this specific moment to beat down upon him.  

Pru smiled, still terrified of the possibility that she would not be able to accomplish what they were asking of her, but absorbing the way he smiled at her, the quiet, simple moment that seemed to stretch between them… It filled her with far more confidence than she had before.  

There was no space to explore this new level of connection they’d finally reached, together… But it was there and it was strong.  

It would carry her through this next part, and then when they found Aurora - because they had to - there was no other way to think about that…

But when they were all ok, and safe, then Prudence Weasley and Teddy Lupin would explore the rest of what ‘ being in love ’ meant.  

Together. 

“Alright then,” she said, her voice trembling with nerves.  “What do I do?” 

There was a measured beat of silence, the very intimate moment shared between Teddy and Pru stirring tender emotions within the other parties present.  

Harry cleared his throat, glancing at Hermione to see her rigid body still tense, arms crossed over her chest, but a faint glimmer of a tear sliding down her cheek.  

“Right, well…” she said, swallowing down the sentiment and stepping through the wreckage still coating the floors.  “I think I saw something that might help.”  

“What are you thinking?” Harry asked.

There was no response.  She merely continued mumbling to herself, focusing on discovering what she needed.  

Harry locked eyes with Teddy again, both men keenly aware of what her silence meant.

The last light of the day began to die out, twilight settling in along with a deeper chill.  Harry’s nerves, in unison with the cool air, sent shivers up his spine, dread still very much filling his body.  

His mind continued playing over the events of the day - churning out question after question.  When had she been taken?  Had it been while he slept?  Comfortable and happy in his bed?  

Had it been while he worked in his office?  Patiently, purposefully theorizing out a mystery?  Contemplating how Aurora’s protocols for finding lost things differed from his methods? 

Had they stolen her while he spoke to her mother?  Had they…

Stella. 

He’d forgotten about Stella…  

She’d sent him a Patronus, moments before Teddy had sent the message through the charmed coin.  She would have needed her wand to do that.

It was unlikely the Coven would have taken her wand with them when they took her…

“Accio Aurora’s wand,” Harry whispered, hand outstretched, fingers extended, reaching through the destruction around him for a piece of her that had to be left behind.  

He was grasping at straws, clinging to the smallest hope.

There would have been a scoff from Hermione; she would have rolled her eyes at him, annoyed that he would try something so basically ridiculous - because how likely was it that her wand was still here?

But Harry had heard Aurora's voice, that quick, sudden ‘Harry!’

It wasn’t a complete thought, it was sharp and curled, as if there had been more to the message that he simply hadn’t received because right before the little erumpent could convey the rest of her words, her magic had been halted.  

Her wand had been snapped, forcing the little creature’s message to die out right as it had found the recipient it searched for.  

And as Harry reached with every ounce of magic within him, silently pleading to Circe for this to work, two distinctly familiar pieces of wood sailed through the air and into his waiting hand.  

A dark, emerald hue, normally eleven inches, but currently snapped in half.  

The dragon heartstring core lay dormant, lifeless… Harry choked out a gasp - he couldn’t feel her within the broken parts.  

Harry ran a finger along the curve of the matte-colored wood, its design reminding him of her mad, great aunt, but only in the slight curve.  The runes in the handle resembled those of his godfather and Harry couldn’t breathe.

“We can scry for her,” Harry finally said, his fingers closing around her wand, unaware of the intense focus of the woman beside him. 

Hermione’s eyes narrowed, her gaze fixed on him with an unsettling stillness. Her fingers twitched as if tempted to reach for her wand again, not to cast a spell to help, but to make him feel how her fury continued to remain unbent. 

She watched him with the kind of quiet, seething rage that made the air between them crackle - each heartbeat a pulse of dark, unspoken magic.  She could almost taste it, the spell she could cast, slow and deliberate, until the breath left his body in a final, strangled gasp.

It very clearly didn’t matter that he was her best friend or that they’d been part of an entire universe of danger and intrigue and life and death… It was like he was a stranger to her now…

She didn’t know him.

Her Harry couldn’t have done something like this, something so deceptive and treacherous. 

“I’ve never…” Prudence interrupted the dark thoughts brewing within Hermione’s mind.

“It’s very simple,” Ted supplied, moving through the wreckage of Aurora’s office.  Her scrying table normally sat against the far wall, nestled in the corner.  With any luck, it might still be nearby.“

They were spreading out, working again to try and find the tools they needed among the rubble.  

“Here!” Pru called from the corner, twisting her wand to repair the cracked table, a delicate map of the globe embedded beneath its surface.  

Hermione rushed over to scourgify as best she could the soot and ash covering it.  

“Alright,” Hermione breathed, taking a moment to wipe the unguarded tears of rage from her eyes.  She glanced around, actually considering all the magic lying in ruin at her feet.  Her chest tightened with an overwhelming rush of emotions. 

Fear clung to her like a cold shroud, creeping in with the reality of how far things had spiraled. Grief came next, an ache that settled deep within her as if the very air she breathed was tinged with the loss of her daughter’s magic. But it was the helplessness that clawed at her insides, suffocating, making her want to scream, to lash out at something, anything just to regain some semblance of control.  The easiest target would be Harry… but it wouldn’t help - not at this precise moment.

She needed to find Aurora.

They’d been standing mostly in what remained of the living room, but now… In the den she had once stored her overabundance of books, old baby clothes, useless, yet lovely trinkets from her mother-in-law, and Draco’s great aunt’s dining table after the war, she took in what her daughter had turned the little cottage into.  

The air was thick with an almost palpable sense of decay as if the very walls held secrets too dark to utter. The atmosphere pulsed with a heavy, malignant energy, as though the bones of the house itself were groaning under the weight of the dark power it had been made to hold since Aurora took up residence.

On a jagged, soot-smeared workbench, a myriad of broken tools lay scattered like the remnants of a dark wizard’s arsenal, their once-sleek surfaces now marred by fire. A tarnished athame, its blade cracked, still hummed faintly, the echo of a forbidden incantation tangled within its jagged edges. Its blackened handle seemed to tremble slightly, its very essence caught in the thrall of dark magic long past its prime.

“My god,” Hermione whispered as her tears continued to silently fall.

Beside it, an orb of obsidian shattered into countless jagged shards.  Yet even in pieces, it glowed faintly—a sickly violet light flickering like a dying star, a remnant of the spell it had once bound. The air around it buzzed, vibrating with a haunting resonance, a murmur of an unfinished spell that would never be fully extinguished.

Everywhere she looked, every item she recognized despite its destruction, was still somewhat alive with unfathomable magic.

The floor was littered with tattered scrolls, their edges singed and curling, covered in symbols that could never be understood by muggle minds. They whispered too, faint echoes of long-forgotten tongues, words that once summoned shadows and nightmares, and still lingered in the air like the scent of incense after a ritual gone awry.

And amongst it all, the broken and the burnt, the cracked and the ruined, there was a continuous thrum, a subtle vibration woven into the fabric of the room, an undercurrent of power too dark, too old to be discarded. 

It hadn’t always been there, the shimmer of forbidden, magic - the kind that brushed against her instincts to run and fight.   It hadn’t been there when the cottage was still a safe house, it hadn’t been there when she and Draco had taken up residence there, or when she realized she was pregnant with her first baby, or even when they brought her home from St. Mungo’s…

It was foreign and alive and thrumming, even amidst the wreckage, it breathed.

The tools had been blown to bits, blasted and burned, and obliterated, but they weren’t truly destroyed, not yet. Aurora’s presence lingered within the objects, bound by her faith in them. 

Hermione looked at Harry, eyes wide and unseeing through the tears falling down her cheeks.  Perhaps it was only because the coven had ravaged the house and destroyed the wards Aurora had cast around the dark artifacts scattered among the damage…  

She couldn’t be sure, but in all honesty, it didn’t matter.  Because she’d been absent, she’d looked the other way while Aurora had dove deep into this darkness.

How had she not known?  How had she not seen how dark, how far Aurora had gone - to assuage the magic in her blood… To pacify the burning edge of power festering within her veins?   

“You knew…” Hermione’s voice cracked - unable to accept the blame she felt settling square on her shoulders.  “You knew and you… you didn’t stop her.  You didn’t tell me!”

Harry swallowed down the guilt, understanding Hermione’s pain.  She wanted more for her daughter than this, she’d wanted so, so much more. And the truth of how far Aurora was willing to go to help herself surrounded her mother… 

Yes, he knew… But it hadn’t been his place…

The parent Aurora needed…

It had never been his place.

“Hermione,” Harry said, voice soft and pleading.  

But she couldn’t listen to anything he might try to say.  “Do not. Speak. To me.”  She seethed, her voice dangerously low, her curls dangerously alive.   

She looked away, clearing the tangling web of emotion from her mind.  “It does not matter,” she said.  “ NOTHING matters.”  She turned her focus to Teddy and Pru, putting Harry in the very back of her mind.  “We need to find a crystal that hasn’t been melted.”  She began sifting through debris again.  

Harry’s shoulders sank beneath the weight of everything he needed to say to her, but knew he couldn’t.  Not until she was ready to hear it.  Years and years of friendship with Hermione taught him valuable lessons, and trying to push right now would not bode well for him.  

He waved his wand - sifting through the remnants of her tools littering the ground and did his best to help find something they could use.

It didn’t take long.

“Son of a bitch, I found them,” Teddy whispered dismayed, levitating a small, overturned chest, its contents spilling out, unphased by the destruction everything else had endured.  

“The scrying process involves weaving the energies of different magics together.  I’ve used the process a handful of times, nowhere near as…”  His voice died out - not wanting to emphasize how intense Aurora was in such a dark process.   Tumbling out of the broken lid were a set of ominous rings, various sets of jewels and chains, and an impressive array of crystals.

Teddy waved his wand over the options before them, each crystal as complex as the next… 

“The scryer has to use different layers of insight, understanding their magic and the magic of the items they search for in order to be successful in finding what they’re looking for.”

“I’ve never known Aurora to not be able to find what she was looking for,” Pru said softly.

“Right,” Teddy said, looking through the crystals she had.  “We have to use the right stone though… Merlin, look at how many she has…”   

“There’s so many…” Pru whispered.  An edge of fear in her voice that this was going to be far more complicated than they had time to navigate.  

“How do we know which one is the right one?”  Harry murmured, looking at Teddy.

“Well,” Pru whispered, her eyes widening at a moonstone glowing with a soft, iridescent sheen.  Its color shifting between milky white and cool blue. “Moonstone holds a connection to the lunar cycle, enhancing one’s magic by attuning to the cycles of time and the subtle shifts in the environment.”

She ran a finger over a jet-black stone that seemed to absorb the light and energy around it.  

“Obsidian for protection and grounding. It has the power to block negative energies or illusions that might cloud the inner eye.   It ensures that vision remains pure, allowing one to peer through the veil.”

Hermione turned her attention to her goddaughter, the light in her eyes as she continued running her fingers over the stones - her particular magic - her connection to the natural elements… Hermione couldn’t help but watch in awe as the girl she’d known since birth showed her how very smart and grown-up she was.  

Ron’s daughter… 

Her knowledge dug a pit deep in her belly, filling with guilt and regret at not equipping her own daughter the way Ron and Luna had clearly equipped theirs.  

“The ruby’s deep red, fiery hue embodies passion, protection, and intense vitality. In moments of crisis, it channels the urgency and determination needed to pursue a difficult task. It would help by sharpening one’s focus, making their willpower more resolute.”  She took a breath - her voice growing in confidence. “If Aurora is in danger or hidden under duress, this would  enhance our ability to break through any obstacles, no matter how strong, and locate her.”

“So that’s the one we should use,” Harry said quickly, reaching for the stone.

“But,” Pru said quickly, considering the last two stones grazing her fingers.  “The deep green crystal… Growth, renewal, and a deep connection to the earth…”  She took a breath, Teddy sensing her magic swell as she ran the crystal between her fingers.  “It is known for its ability to strengthen the mind’s connection to the living world. In a dire situation, the emerald aids by harmonizing one’s senses with the natural world.  It could bridge a link to Aurora’s life, her magic. I could theoretically feel the pulse of life in the environment around her, sense the energy of her presence.”

They remained quiet, almost holding their breath as she considered the last crystal - realizing the situation was full of a complexity they could not afford to rush. 

“Citrine,” Pru said in a shaky breath.  It was a bright, golden-yellow crystal that radiated warmth and positivity. “It’s often associated with manifesting light in times of darkness, making it the perfect tool for breaking through any illusions or barriers that might obscure the inner eye. It would illuminate the path forward, dispelling distraction.”

There was a revenant quiet in the air as Pru considered each stone, each energy surrounding the crystals.  Hermione, never one to put much stock in divination and healing energies, and naturally occurring magic, felt gob-smacked by the amount of knowledge in Pru’s words… A deep respect blooming within her.  

Pru’s fingers danced lightly in the air above the stones, contemplating, sorting, considering which one would best help her perform such a complicated task.  

It was more than just picking the right stone, she had to perform the task, she had to sink into the energy of the crystal, opening up her mind to the elements and letting them guide her.  

It was innocuous for the most part, but scrying was considered dark magic for a reason.  There was far more darkness in this world, far more residual anger and grief buried beneath layers of stone and earth.  Scrying left you bare and exposed in that process, amenable to anything you might pick up along the way in your search.  

Pru glanced at Teddy - overwrought with anxiety.  

He felt it, rolling and tumbling through her.

She knew which one to use.  She knew what she needed to do, she was just terrified to do it.  

“Emerald,” she concluded.  

The others watching patiently let out soft sighs of relief.  

This was it, the path forward.

“Alright,” Teddy said, picking up the crystal, his hair beginning to shimmer to the same shade of green.  “Let’s begin…”