Honey and Venom - Guardian_of_Memory (2024)

Chapter 1

Chapter Text

“There will be no trial.”

Aurelia heard Professor Sharp, heard the words, but the floor seemed to sweep down and away. Natty was yelling. Amit and Adelaide had the papers and letters. Poppy had their maps.

“There will be no trial.”

All that work. All the horror of reliving the fighting and danger and curses. All that death.

“There will be no trial.”

A strong hand gripped her arm. She inhaled sharply and looked over to see Ominis at her side, mouth set in a grim line.

“Settle down!” Professor Sharp called. “Settle down!”

“But that’s not fair!”

“We have all this evidence!”

“Ominis,” she asked. He sighed.

“Rookwood is dead,” he said. “Harlow is in custody. All that’s left are the small fry and they’ll have surely taken plea deals.”

“What about higher? It was a business. The buyers–”

“Don’t want to be implicated.” He turned towards her. “Which means there are powerful people that benefited from the gang and want to distance themselves. I’ve heard it before. Learning when to cut ties is a…useful skill in some circles.”

“And Ranrok?”

“Goblins don’t get trials. Besides, imagine how it looks to the outside. Hogwarts, one of the most secure institutes in the world housing the children of some of the most powerful people in the West, was attacked by creatures they consider ‘lesser.’”

“They want to cover it up.” Her ears started ringing. “They want to cover it all up.”

“Either the teachers are woefully negligent or they were complicit.”

She clenched her jaw. Well. Both were technically true but yes, she could understand how bad it looked. It wasn’t like the school could close. There was nowhere else for them to go. And the repositories…

She raised her hand.

“Yes, Miss Green.” Professor Sharp cut through the noise and the other students fell quiet.

“How are they going to explain the attack?” she asked.

“From my contact, probably just an insane goblin that wanted to hurt wizarding children. The rebellion itself has been rumored for a while but they’ll try to downplay how organized and…effective it was. It was just discontent, easily put down and dismissed.”

The man looked…weary, something in his tone making her think he’d said things like this before.

“There will be no trial.”

Officer Singer’s inaction but wasn’t it odd that she was the only officer in the entirety of the Scottish Highlands. The ministry official interviewing them all but brushing off any questions. Ranrok, a goblin smart enough and determined enough to find the repositories and understand how to use them, reduced to just another crazy beast.

Professor Fig. Lodgok. All those innocent people.

“Professor Sharp.” Ominis raised his hand. “Hearings are required to determine if a trial is necessary. Should we not have been required to testify at those? To my knowledge, none of us have received summons.”

“No,” Professor Sharp said. “As you are all underage, the interviews were deemed sufficient. Possibly the only material deemed admissible as you have all severely compromised evidence with your illegal interference.”

“Well, no one else was going to do it,” Natty snapped. “I swear, it’s like no one cares about–”

“No. They don’t. They want it all to go away as soon as possible. The plea deals will be executed within the month and the entire mess will be resolved by the end of the Wizengamot session in the spring.”

“So we’re just supposed to forget everything that happened?” Poppy asked. “All those creatures shipped off to Merlin knows where–”

“The villains are gone,” Professor Sharp said, slowly limping out of the classroom. “Your friends are safe. Take the win.”

“But it’s not right!” Amit cried. The old auror paused.

“No, it isn’t,” he said. “Perhaps, when you’re all grown up, you can change it.”

Aurelia watched him leave the classroom, quickly followed by Natty, Poppy, and even Amit storming out. Adelaide stopped by Aurelia’s desk, wringing her hands.

“I suppose he’s right,” Adelaide said. “We are all…safe. And they’re all gone. Thanks to you.”

Ominis subtly squeezed her arm and Aurelia smiled.

“I’m glad for that at least,” she said. “Please, give my regards to your uncle next time you write.”

“I will.” Adelaide fidgeted for a second then gave an awkward nod and shuffled off. Aurelia’s smile dropped.

“His trial won’t go much better,” she said. “Will it?”

“It might even be quicker,” Ominis said. “The Auror Office won’t want the story of a child taking out a trained auror getting out. And I can’t let Sebastian go to Azkaban. Not for life.”

“Ominis…”

“I know. I know it’s just as bad as what the others are doing but…he’s my best friend. And I understand his desperation.”

“Sounds like you’ve made up your mind.”

“Likely the last favor I can wring from my family.” He picked up his bag and stood. “I’m sorry if this disappoints you.”

“I’m not…”

He quirked a brow and she swallowed, picking up her own bag.

“I worry for Anne,” she said as they headed out. “He blamed her for it. If he gets out and tries again, I worry that he might hurt her.”

“That won’t happen. You have my word.”

“How’s she doing?”

“As well as can be expected. The Greengrasses are trying to make her as comfortable as possible and I’m to visit this weekend. I’d like to try and spend at least part of the summer with her.”

“Good. That’s good.” She smoothed a hand over her braid. Frizzy. “I’m a bit tired. Think I’ll have a quick nap before dinner.”

“I’ll speak to you later then.”

Aurelia smiled, even though he couldn’t see it, and walked away but not to Hufflepuff. As soon as Ominis’ footsteps died away, she veered left towards the Room of Requirement. Faster and faster she walked, throwing half-hearted ‘hellos’ and ‘good to see yous’ over her shoulder until she was all out running through the halls.

She must’ve looked mad sprinting back and forth down the corridor but she didn’t care, barreling through the door as soon as it appeared.

“Miss Green?”

She ran past Deek, took out her wand, and started blasting away at the training dummy. Spell after spell after spell, fire, ice, explosions, curses. She cast until sweat poured down her face and when her arm shook too badly to hold the wand, she threw it and flooded the room with Ancient Magic. Glass shattered, books exploded, tables cracked.

Then it was over. She hit her knees, panting, and just listened to the room repair itself in clicks and sparkles.

“M-Miss Green?”

Oh. Right. She tried to control her breathing, mouth full of film.

“I’m sorry I scared you, Deek.” She hauled herself up and started looking for her wand. “Professor Sharp just told us there will be no trial for the Rebellion or the Ashwinders.”

“Oh. What does…what does that mean?”

“It means it’s over. And nothing’s going to change.”

Deek walked over to her, holding up her wand.

“Deek is sorry, Miss. Deek doesn’t quite understand.”

“I don’t either.” She took her wand with a wan smile. “I just have this awful feeling in the pit of my stomach.”

“Is Miss hungry, perhaps?” Deek’s ears perked up. “Deek could pop down to the kitchen for some tarts? Or some meat pies?”

“You know what? That would be lovely. Thank you, Deek.”

“Yes, Miss. Deek won’t be a moment.” He vanished and Aurelia let her smile fall again.

God, she was so tired.

*

Escape. Talking. Medical. Talking. Clean up. More talking. Everyone had questions or comments or accusations. Everyone had an opinion. Aurelia didn’t hear most of it. After all the sh*t she’d gone through this year, apparently now was when the shock kicked in.

She was grateful. Then Professor Weasley chased everyone away and herded Aurelia to the Room of Requirement. Deek immediately started peeling off her coat and gloves.

“A lot has happened today,” Professor Weasley said, her voice surprisingly steady. “This may well be the only quiet moment you have in the coming weeks. Take your time. Get cleaned up. Rest. Deek will bring you up some food in a little while. Tomorrow, we’ll sit down and talk about the next step.”

Aurelia opened her mouth, closed it, swallowed.

The Room shifted and groaned and Professor Weasley gently turned Aurelia towards the new en suite up the stairs.

“Bath first, my dear. One step at a time.”

*

Professor Fig’s funeral was large and boisterous, students and teachers alike telling funny stories and doing impressions of the quirky man. It was all laughter and tears for hours until, finally, the Minister for Magic, Faris Spavin, gave some god-awful speech to end it all. Solomon Sallow’s funeral was smaller but no less poignant, aurors and Ministry officials from all over coming to pay their respects to the man that ‘died tragically in his sleep.’

Lodgok’s funeral, by comparison, was heartbreaking.

“Off on another adventure?” Poppy asked. Aurelia checked her bag one more time. Rope, pick-ax, boots, gloves, food…

“One more friend I need to help,” she said.

“Oh! Someone in trouble then? I’ll get my–”

“It’s Lodgok.” Aurelia swallowed past the lump in her throat. “The mine collapsed but I think I can still reach him.”

“Oh.” Poppy, bless her, seemed to wilt for a second then perked up. “I’ll be right back!”

“What?”

But the girl was gone. Aurelia shook her head, too tired to be amused, and headed to the Common Room door.

“Wait!” Poppy ran up to her with a large, woven blanket off one of the couches. “Here. You’ll need something to wrap him in, yes? Use this.”

“But…”

“Take it.” She pushed the blanket into her arms.

“It’s all right,” Aurelia said. “I don’t–”

“You said he tried to save you. He tried to help.”

“Yes.” Aurelia felt her eyes ache as she hugged the blanket to her chest. “Yes, he did. Thank you.”

Turning quickly, she left and, in no time at all, landed at the mine. Everything was still broken, the camp outside stripped clean. She wasn’t sure if it had been scavengers or aurors. Did ‘making things go away’ mean destroying evidence? Hiding it? Not collecting it at all? Real life was not like her old detective books at all.

“Well.” She took a breath. “Time to get to work then.”

It took her two days. Destroying those pillars had destabilized the entire mine, every little scratch or sprinkle of dust making her flinch. Just finding a way in took most of the first day but she managed. She managed past the smashed and rotten bodies that she wasn’t sure she had the right to grieve. She managed through the broken machinery and still-burning fuel lines.

She managed…until she found the last chamber. The drill, though wrecked, was the only thing solid enough to hold up any part of the ceiling so she started there, carefully cutting and shifting rock and metal. Lodgok’s body was as smashed as the rest of them, his once-white dress shirt soaked brown with blood.

“I’m so sorry.” She tried not to vomit, throat aching. “You shouldn’t have died like this. If not for me…I’ll get you out of here. Just a tick.”

No amount of Reparo would put his body back together. She didn’t even know bone could become such a paste. But she could still See whispers of the magic that killed him, thin, barely-there fibers fluttering between the natural weave of the stone. It was enough to form…something. At least, something solid enough for her to wrap in the blanket. She didn’t dare shrink him into her bag though, tried not to think about how slick he felt or how wet he sounded. Just a quick trip out. Just a short climb.

She threw up as soon as she reached the surface.

“I’m sorry.” She hung her head, sitting there on hands and knees in the dirt. “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry…I thought I could do it. I thought I could–you shouldn’t have died like that. You–I should’ve protected you. It’s my fault.” She gripped her hair, curling into a ball. “It’s my fault. I’m so sorry.”

*

Dawn. She was cold. Hungry. Her head hurt.

“Oh.” Sirona opened the door, sleep vanishing when she saw Aurelia on the stoop. “Honey…”

She reached for the blanket.

“Don’t!” Aurelia shied away. “Don’t. You don’t–It was a cave-in.”

Sirona’s face crumpled then set and she ushered Aurelia inside.

“In the tub then,” she said. “Until I can get a c-coffin for him. Gods…”

Sirona paid for the funeral. Aurelia, Garnuff, Biscuit, a sparse handful of other goblins, and–surprisingly–Amit attended. And that was it. Lodgok was a hero, as big and important and tragic as any other in Wizarding history, yet here they stood on a nondescript hill outside of Hogsmeade without even a headstone for fear someone would destroy it.

“He liked this tree,” Sirona said. “We’d sit and talk for hours here. Share tea. Biscuits.”

Biscuit lowed, nuzzling her master, and Sirona gave a watery smile.

“Rest well, my friend. You will be missed.”

Amit sobbed, attempting what he probably thought was something sweet and poignant in his horrible Gobbledegook, but Aurelia had nothing left. She just waited for everyone to finish and when Sirona headed back to the Broomsticks for the wake, she followed and served the others without a word.

“It’s going to get so much worse now,” Garnuff said. “We’ll never get out of here.”

Aurelia put a hand on his shoulder and got some milk for Biscuit.

Chapter 2

Chapter Text

Eyes this time. Figures in the dark. A blink: they were Fastidio’s mannequins. Another: they were poachers and bandits. This one was covered in burns. That one’s neck bent at a sharp angle. The one up there was missing half of his head. Dozens and dozens, hundreds stretching back into the shadows in uneven rows.

They were all smiling with bright, white teeth.

“Welcome, sister. We’ve been expecting you.”

Aurelia’s eyes flew open and she lay as still as she could, staring into the dark until the woman missing her jaw turned into her owl stand. Her heart raced and her skin felt sticky and hot. sh*t.

Sighing, she slipped quietly out of bed. Her dorm-mates, Poppy and Adelaide, were fast asleep still. So much the better. She didn’t really want to answer any questions right now.

She also didn’t want to be awake but there was nothing for it. She was up for the day so she grabbed her toiletry bag, her wand, and the knife she kept under her pillow and crept down the hall to the bathrooms. The torchlight from the sconces was not forgiving, casting dark shadows that reminded her too much of the shadow figures. Of the people she’d killed. And she wasn’t so naive as to think she didn’t kill them. The force of those spells at those angles and from those heights, if she didn’t kill them outright, they died from their injuries after she left.

She felt nothing. She felt guilty about feeling nothing. They were criminals, yes, had probably done more than enough to earn a death sentence, but surely they had families somewhere, maybe a sweetheart, hell, a dog that didn’t know his master was a piece of sh*t. And she killed them anyway. Because they were in her way. Because their leader was helping Ranrok and she needed to thin his army as much as she could.

She scoffed at her reflection as she brushed her teeth. Tonight would probably be all the goblins she’d killed or those assholes in her old town or–oh! She hadn’t dreamt of the dragon and falling to her death over the ocean in at least a week. That would be a nice change of pace.

What time was it? She frowned, hunting for the clock. Four a.m. f*ck. At least three hours before she had to get ready for class, as scattered and distracted as they’d been since the attack. She didn’t want to risk waking the girls to get a textbook or clothes. There was always her Field Guide though. She’d pretty well filled most of it but maybe there was something in there she could work on.

She rinsed her mouth, ripped a brush through her hair, and headed out to the Common Room. Even the portraits were asleep. She sighed again. Someday, she’d sleep through the night. Then again, if she did, she wouldn’t know what to do with herself. Probably panic and think something was wrong.

Her Field Guide appeared in her hands and she started flipping through the different sections. Herbology was caught up between classes and traipsing around Scotland. Same with Astronomy and Care of Magical Creatures. Potions could use some work but she didn’t want to brew anything right now. Transfiguration and Charms made too much noise…

Defense Against the Dark Arts. That would work. There were a lot of Dark creatures she hadn’t identified and it was easy to break into the library.

Maybe not in her pajamas though. A wave of her wand changed her clothes into a simple blue linen shift, long-sleeved and a-line like she’d seen in the paintings of Norse witches. Modest enough for a trek to the library.

And, just like last time, it was laughably easy to get inside. Unlike last time, she had no reason to go to the Restricted Section so she wandered about the darkened shelves, refusing to think about mannequins and corpses, until she found the Dark Creatures sections. Her Field Guide had a chart she was required to fill out by the end of the year, each creature with its own entry of identifying characteristics, habitat, level of danger, and appropriate responses.

So far she had four kinds of Dugbogs, Inferi, twelve kinds of spiders, Dark mongrels, and eight kinds of trolls. That still left over thirty-odd creatures. Plenty of work to keep her occupied for a few hours.

“All right,” she said, dropping a stack of books on a table. “Item One.”

‘Werewolves
Imps
Ghosts–hello, Fastidio.
Hags
Gytrashes
Vampires
Zombies
Gnomes
Cornish Pixies
Banshees–any truth to the Irish tales?
Ghouls–are inferi ghouls that are just controlled? Can ghouls happen naturally?
Yetis–India?
Boggarts–try not to think of mine
Grindylows
Hinkypunks
Kappas
Red Caps–I’ve heard of these
Nocturnal Beasts–that’s specific
Pixies–different than Cornish?
Charmed Skeletons
Erklings
Snakes–f*ck you’

She worked steadily, losing herself in the research and mostly medieval illustrations. Some moved, some didn’t. Some volumes had additional information while others regurgitated the same facts then acted like they discovered them. She kept careful notes for each creature on scrap paper in pencil. Inking the answers on the charts would come later, when she was sure she had the right information.
God, there really was nothing new on vampires, was there? Any fairytale book or campfire story could’ve covered eighty-percent of it. She just had better access to fire as a witch.

“Oh!”

She jumped and so did Ominis.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t realize anyone was–I’ll just–”

“No, it’s fine.” sh*t, when had the sun risen? “I’m sorry. Am I in your–”

“No, no, please.”

They stared at each other for a long, awkward moment then Aurelia remembered she actually had been taught manners and started condensing her books.

“Sorry,” she muttered. “There. Is that enough room?”

“Plenty, thank you.” He set down his own stack, Potions, and sat down across from her. “What are you working on?”

“Dark creatures.”

“Really? I’d have thought you’d covered all that.”

“I thought so too but the Highlands are full of many kinds of two things and nothing of anything else. Which is just as well as I don’t fancy dealing with werewolves right now.” She had enough pain with her monthlies without changing species, thanks ever so.

“Right.” A beat. He cleared his throat and started on his work. She expected…Actually, she wasn’t sure what she expected of his books but a series of complicated dots set in some kind of raised pattern was not it. He moved his fingertips gently over the page, apparently able to decipher them, but for the life of her, she couldn’t see any kind of system.

“It’s called Braille,” he said. “Each letter has a different set of bumps much like letters have a set amount of strokes.”

She flushed, looking down at her Guide.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be rude.”

“I’m used to it.” He winced. “Sorry. I didn’t mean it like that.”

“It’s fine.”

A beat.

“I don’t blame you, you know,” he said. “For Sebastian. He was…has been on this path for a long time.”

“I don’t know. If I hadn’t talked you into opening the Scriptorium–”

“Then there’d be something else and something else and something else.” His hands stilled on the page. “If I’m being completely honest, there have been warning signs for years. I just didn’t want to see them.”

“Anne’s getting worse. I understand being scared.”

“It’s not just Anne. It’s…Sometimes, I think he was trying to save his parents as well. Before Anne got cursed. If he just tried hard enough, worked enough, controlled enough, he’d be able to fix everything.”

“Mmm.” She idly rolled her pencil in her fingers. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry for my part in everything. I feel like, after Professor Fig, I ruined your life the most.”

“Oh.” A rueful smile crossed his lips. “You shouldn’t say such things to a Slytherin. I might take advantage.”

“If that advantage would help me sleep, you have a deal.”

“Bad dreams?”

“Always.” Sighing, she sat back and rubbed her face. Mmm. Now that she wasn’t reading, even her eye sockets were tired. “Got so bad when I was little that the orphanage called in an exorcist.”

Ominis blinked a couple times.

“That’s a loaded sentence.”

“Yeah. Didn’t work though. Just gave me more nightmares but hey, variety is the spice of life, right?”

“I’m sorry.”

“Not your fault. Why are you up so early?”

“Mostly the same.” He ran a hand over his hair, the soft, sandy blonde strands catching the early morning light. She liked it. “My brain wouldn’t turn off. Every worry I’ve ever had just parades in front of me as if I can do anything about them at two in the morning.”

“But if you try and fight it, you’re more exhausted than you’d be if you just got up.”

“That’s it exactly. So. Here I am, trying to fumble through these blasted potions.”

“Which ones are tripping you up?”

“All of them. It’s not the theory or even the process. It’s the actual mixing. That room…I can’t breathe.”

Yes, that made sense. She’d heard of people losing one sense and compensating with another. Old Man Derry down at the mill had gone blind ages ago but he could hear every snicker and broken twig from the local kids trying to sneak up on him.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I don’t know how to help.”

“Ah, this late in the year, it’s rather moot anyway. Just…personal vendetta, I suppose.”

“Right.” Swallowing, she started working again. Only boggarts and snakes left. Some of the books mentioned magical snakes but most of them felt more prejudiced than anything. She expected that from the Church, what with Adam and Eve and the Garden of Eden but wizards? Afraid of normal animals?

Ominis’ quill began scratching on the parchment, moving in time with words muttered so softly, she could barely hear him. Dictation spell of some kind? Like when people talked out letters for someone else to type?

It was probably because of Salazar Slytherin, the fear of snakes. Some magical snakes were dangerous, certainly more venomous or larger than ‘normal’ but they weren’t any more lethal than a unicorn or a graphorn. For them to be categorized as ‘Dark creatures’ instead of just ‘creatures’ smacked too much of erasure. Lord Slytherin was unpopular among certain circles so snakes of all kinds were bad.

“Well, hello, there. You’re looking quite dashing in your boots and come-fight-me coat. Off on another adventure?”

False. And true. Dammit.

“What do you need from me?” she asked. The quill froze.

“Need,” he said.

“Yes. What do you need from me? If I can help, I want to. If you want me to f*ck off, I will. Just…tell me. Please.”

He tilted his head, thinking, maybe even listening.

“How about a friend?”

“Are you sure? I don’t think…It’s not exactly great for people’s health.”

“I would have to disagree, Miss Green. If not for you, we’d all be in much worse shape.”

“Sister…Come join us, sister…”

“All right.” She cleared her throat, tried again. “All right. I’ll try. On your word that you’ll tell me if I’m being a bad friend. You must promise.”

“Oh, don’t worry. The days of holding my tongue are long over.”

In the distance, the clocktower chimed seven.

“Ah.” Ominis gathered his things with a wave of his wand and stood. “It seems it’s time to get ready for the day.”

“I’m sorry; I took up your study time.”

“Not at all.” The corner of his mouth twitched. “It was a romance novel in the Potions slipcover.”

She laughed.

“Genius.”

“Thank you.” That got a bit more of a smile. “Well. I shall speak to you in class, then. Friend.”

“All right. Friend.” She watched him go then set about cleaning up. Not the best case scenario.

Not the worst.

*

“Nightmares or insomnia?” Ominis beat her to the library this time, barely lifting his head as she approached.

“Nightmares,” she said. “Drowned in whipped cream.”

“Was it sweetened?”

“Surprisingly, no. It was peppery.”

“Rude.”

“Terribly. You?”

“A greenhouse of mandrakes singing opera and they were all horrendously off-key.”

“You poor thing.” She planned on finishing Dark creatures, maybe rewriting a couple older entries because of her handwriting, then moving on to whatever the hell she was supposed to do with the repository. That it still existed set her on edge. That it was under the school, possibly even under her bed, made her skin crawl. She’d had to completely wash herself three times just to get the phantom sludge off in the first place, Isidora’s leftovers feeling as if they burned and clung like that damned toad mucus. And the woman had been addicted to it. Aurelia couldn’t imagine being that far gone.

But then, she hadn’t imagined a lot of things.

Her Field Guide fell open to the Glacius page and her breath caught.

“Are you all right?” Ominis asked.

“Y-yes.”

Professor Fig’s looping handwriting filled the top half of the page, explaining the theory behind the incantation, intent, and wand movement. Most other students didn’t care why or how something worked, just that it did. But she’d had questions from the beginning, curious and confused and frustrated how waving a stick could possibly do what he claimed. He’d been patient, so patient with her. If something didn’t make sense, he’d try another way, making an effort to draw on her old life for examples.

Her vision blurred and she blinked, fat drops falling on the page.

“sh*t!”

“What?”

“Nothing. I just–dammit.” She tried to blot the tears before they made the ink bleed but it only made it worse. Her chest tightened, her throat closing up. No. No, this was all she had left–

A faint red light glowed over her book, followed by wispy threads of cherry-pink. Ominis slowly and carefully moved his wand in a loop and on the second pass, the page–and text–was back to normal.

“Oh.” She blinked, rubbing her eyes well away from the book. “Thank you. How did you do that? I thought Reparo couldn’t fix text.”

“It can’t. Normally. But I have some experience.” He tried a smile. “Used to knock over tea cups all the time.”

A lie. Just like the whipped cream and soprano mandrakes were a lie but she was grateful all the same.

“Could you teach me sometime?” she asked. “I’m always getting bits of bacon grease on the runes.”

“Bacon is awfully treacherous. I can show you now, if you like. May I?” He gestured to the chair next to her.

“Oh! Of course.” She shoved her things to the side and pulled out the chair. “Please.”

“I don’t know if I’ve ever had someone pull my chair out for me.” He sat down with a grin. “I feel so spoiled.”

“I can shove you back in, if you’d prefer that.”

“No, I think I’d rather not wear my textbooks, thanks. Here. Hold your wand up like this. Oh. You’re left handed. This should…” He thought for a second. “All right, first motion is forward, towards the object, then straight back out to draw out whatever it is, then you wind it away.”

Yet more proof that wand motions were related to the spell. The few times Natty had shown her wandless magic, the motions were similar, as if the very act of moving helped a person focus. Hmm. Could someone focus and cast without any movement at all? They’d have to completely relearn everything…

“Now you try,” he said.

“All right.”

He kept his wand up, that little red light pulsing as she moved.

“Almost,” he said. “Here. Try it with me. One, two, three-four, five…”

It took a couple tries but she got it, successfully drawing the ink out of a piece of scrap paper.

“Thank you,” she said. “What kind of spell is that?”

“Protection charm, of a sort. There’s an entire section of magic just dedicated to repairing, restoring, and preserving texts, art, what have you. I’m sure there’s a book or two here.”

“I’ll have to look later. Thank you.” She looked down at the Guide, that lump forming again.

“Would you like me to leave?”

“No. No, I’m sorry.” Sniffing, she rubbed her eyes. “May I ask you a question?”

“Of course.”

“Why did you let me talk you into the Scriptorium? You’d known me, what, a few months? I can’t say we’d even spoken ten words to each other by that point–you didn’t like me–but you’ve known Him for years.”

“Mmm.” He leaned back in his chair, folding his arms. “I suppose…I was tired of hearing it from him. He had a habit of getting on something and just bringing it up at every turn. Trying to cure Anne was just the latest thing. Before, it was brooms or Quidditch or a new girl he liked. I’ve gotten quite adept at tuning him out.”

He turned towards her.

“I wonder if, perhaps, I did want to go in. Deep down. I just couldn’t justify it to myself. But you told me what I needed to hear.”

“I told you what you wanted to hear so you’d agree.” She dropped her head in her hands. “God, I’m as bad as He is.”

“In some ways, yes.”

Ouch.

“But you also had–have–an air about you that’s…calming. He certainly seemed to be in a better mood around you. Until…” He sat up, clearing his throat. “We should get back to work. The sun will rise soon and the library tends to fill up early this time of year. Exams, you know.”

“Right. Do we know when the O.W.Ls will be? Seems like this mess has thrown everything off.”

“Yes, I heard the teachers complaining about it the other day.” He moved back to his seat, leaving her side strangely cold. “‘Why couldn’t this have happened at the beginning of the year when we could recover? Now they’ll all fail.’”

She grinned at his near-perfect impersonation of Professor Weasley.

“You think we will?” she asked. “Fail?”

“You and I? Probably not. The others, well. These last two weeks before exams are typically project presentations and review–which means it’s when certain students scramble for any extra credit they can find. I remember one boy, a Ravenclaw, trying to bargain with Professor Howin. Swore he’d muck every stable and pen on the grounds if she just gave him one more chance.”

“A Ravenclaw.” She pulled one of the books closer and flipped to the Boggart section. “I thought they were supposed to be the smart house.”

“‘Smart’ does not always mean ‘studious.’ He was brilliant at arithmancy and runes, left the rest of us well in the dust. Couldn’t be bothered to do homework for anything else.”

“How can you not though? It’s magic! We’re in a magic school where ghosts are real and you can create things out of thin air!” She blinked, flushing at the little smile on his lips. “Sorry. It still hits me sometimes.”

“Don’t apologize. I forget some people see this place as an entirely new world. It’s nice.”

“I’m scared it’s just a dream. Like I’m going to wake up any minute and be back in my little cot in the back room, thinking about all the orders due that day.”

“Orders.” He tilted his head. “Did you work before?”

“Yes, at a tailor shop. Mostly in the back but sometimes I had to deal with the front, take orders, explain why something cost what it did and no, really, I promise I know what I’m doing.”

“I can sympathize. Yes, I’m blind and yes, that presents challenges, but that doesn’t mean I’m suddenly an idiot with no motor function.”

“Exactly.” She wrinkled her nose. “I might have some problems with authority.”

“Really. Never would’ve guessed.”

She stuck out her tongue, remembering too late that he couldn’t see it, then turned to her book with a huff. He just laughed.
It was a nice sound.

*

‘Dearest Aurelia,

I don’t blame you for my current predicament. That night was upsetting. For all of us. But I implore you to look past whatever may or may not lie between us and think of Anne. My sister is strong, always has been, but the curse is taking its toll. I can’t imagine what all of this unpleasantness is doing to her. I fear for her health daily.

Professor Morganach was onto something. I don’t know what, exactly, or how it works, but I believe you do. You can save my sister. You can give her a life I never could. Please. I beg you. Use what Isidora showed us and heal Anne. I know you can do it.

Yours, Sebastian.’

Aurelia ran her thumb over His signature, feeling the scratches in the parchment. Strange. In a way, it was like no time at all had passed and He was just sending her an owl, asking to meet up and go on another adventure. What she wouldn’t give to get a letter from the Slytherin Common Room instead of…actually, she wasn’t sure where He was now, just that He was gone and awaiting trial. A cell at the Ministry? House arrest? She could knock that little tinder-pile they called a house over with a half-assed Confringo; she couldn’t imagine house arrest being effective. And it would be so empty…

“Your turn to brood tonight?” Ominis asked. She cleared her throat.

“Thought I’d try my hand at it,” she said. “Little tiring, to be honest.”

“It just takes practice.” He sat down across from her. “Having a deep hood can help too.”

“No books?”

“No, I think I’m as prepared as I’ll ever be. Anything I can help with?”

She sighed, looking down at the letter. He was Ominis’ best friend but…

“If not,” he said. “I understand. Some demons must be fought alone.”

“Thank you. It’s just…a lot of context.” She bit her lip. “I got a letter from…Him this morning.”

“Oh, really.” His energy shifted and when she let her gaze Drift, she Saw his threads coiling close and tight in his core. On guard. Defensive. Her stomach twinged. “What did he say?”

“That He doesn’t blame me and He’s worried all this ‘unpleasantness’ is affecting Anne’s health.”

“‘Unpleasantness.’” Ominis’ voice, already soft, settled into something cold. “He murders his uncle after trying to kill us with Inferi and it’s ‘unpleasant.’”

“I’m sorry.” She stuffed the letter in her bag. “I shouldn’t have–”

“Don’t. Don’t apologize for him. Don’t you dare. He’s so good at talking, isn’t he? So good at making you want to believe him, forgive him, give him another chance because he’s so cute and just didn’t know better.” He sneered at nothing, posture straight, hands folded on the table as if he were holding court. “‘Unpleasant.’ As if this were nothing but a bird sh*tting in our hair.”

He blinked, then his eyes widened and he cleared his throat.

“Apologies, Miss Green. That was terribly unbecoming of me. It won’t happen again.”

“It’s fine. Actually, that’s much how I responded.”

“What else did he say?”

“That He wants me to heal Anne.”

“And how are you to do that, precisely?”

“I have no earthly idea.” She leaned back, fluffing her hair. “He saw some things that…gave Him hope, I guess. Something the goblins used.”

“Oh, I bet that was a fun day. Goblins not only hurting Anne but using something that could help her?”

“I imagine that’s what He’s thinking.” She sighed. “I wish I could’ve spoken to Rookwood. Turned him in, something. Maybe he would’ve given us the countercurse.”

“Doubtful. Men like that don’t do well in interrogation. They’ve been through it too many times. He’d spit in your face before he answered anything.”

“Even for a plea deal?”

“Even that.” A helpless, pained look crossed his face. “Those who use curses like that generally don’t deal in countering them. There’s an…arrogance to such people. No one would ever turn those spells on them so why learn any counters?”

“And anyone they cast it on deserved it.”

He nodded.

“f*ck,” she said.

“Quite.”

She glanced at her bag where the corner of the letter still poked out. It wasn’t as if she hadn’t thought of it. Obviously, Isidora f*cked up but surely that wasn’t all Ancient Magic could do. If Professor Fig and Miriam were to be believed, Ancient Magic is what all other magic developed from. It was like finding the prehistoric ancestor of a dog. It wouldn’t be completely the same but there would be teeth and bones enough that it could be familiar.

But Aurelia didn’t know enough about long-lasting curses, certainly not more than however many experts the Sallows had tried. She didn’t know the family’s situation before Anne was cursed or how they became friends with wizarding royalty but that house in Feldcroft had been decorated within an inch of its life. Anne’s doing, most likely, a young woman’s desperate attempt to make an awful situation better. Or a new situation more familiar. It wouldn’t surprise Aurelia at all if Solomon had used all of his pension and the money their parents left to try and find a cure and that hamlet was the best they could do now. And the Gaunts wouldn’t let Ominis appear destitute because he was still a Gaunt so he had money to use too.

So that meant learned men and women had nothing more to offer than pain management. All those resources…What was a fifteen-year-old girl that had only been practicing magic for a year supposed to do?

“Don’t pay him any mind,” Ominis said, startling her. “Anne isn’t your responsibility and never has been. That you tried as hard as you did is enough.”

“I don’t think your friend believes that.”

“Well. He also thought babies grew in pumpkin patches until he was nine so. Grain of salt.”

She chuckled then her jaw split in a yawn.

“Oh,” she said, clearing her throat. “Sorry, excuse me.”

“It’s all right. It’s not even five yet.” He tilted his head. “Have you spoken to Madam Blainey? She might be willing to give you something to help you sleep.”

“No. One of the other girls tried, got a thirty minute lecture on how addictive Dreamless Sleep potions can be and she really just needed to manage her stress better because that wasn’t what magic was for.”

“And how is a student supposed to know how to ‘manage’ their stress if no one teaches them?”

“Now you see why I went off on my own so much instead of asking the adults for help.”

He sighed.

“Are you going to write back?” he asked.

“Do you think I should?”

“I couldn’t say. His letters to me are…scattered. Sometimes he sounds like the Sebastian I knew. Sometimes…”

“Yeah. Probably not something I should decide on two hours' sleep.”

“Probably not. What shall we do until breakfast then? I could show you those restoration spells.”

“No, I’ll get them mixed up with my charms and end up cleaning the classroom instead of making my shoes dance.” She propped her elbows on the table. “How about we get to know each other? As friends. Not as victims in a horror novel.”

His lips twitched.

“Going to ask me my favorite color?”

“No.”

He grinned.

“You were.”

“Are you always this sassy or am I just lucky?”

“This is me on two hours' sleep.”

She laughed.

“Ass.”

“One hour.”

Chapter 3

Chapter Text

“Next week,” Professor Weasley announced to the Great Hall. “Fifth years will sit their O.W.Ls and Seventh years will sit their first N.E.W.Ts. You should all have received your schedules by now. Your Head of House will give you further instructions.”

Joy.

“Look at it this way,” Poppy said, knocking Aurelia’s shoulder. “After fighting for our lives against poachers, the O.W.Ls should be a breeze.”

“Yeah, watch though,” a boy said. “You’ll ace Defense then fail Herbology.”

“Can you even fail Herbology?” another boy asked. “It’s just what will kill you and what won’t.”

“It’s Herbology,” a girl said. “Everything will kill you.”

“Sodding cabbages…”

A welcome laugh went around the table and Aurelia felt her lips curve. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad? She should certainly ace Defense Against the Dark Arts and Care of Magical Creatures. Possibly Transfiguration. Maybe Potions?

Well, if she wasn’t ready by now, she wouldn’t be. She’d gone through that Guide cover to cover, filling out probably more than was necessary. There was nothing else she could do for classes. Best to just make sure everything was squared away. The Field Guide had been an absolute godsend in that regard; everything else in her life had fallen apart but at least her school work was organized.

That left her work against Ranrok. It had been hard enough to concentrate in class with all of that mess still rolling around in her head. Having corpses and screams and splotchy pain dragons interfering with O.W.Ls was not an option. Aurelia retreated to her Room after classes and floated everything she had in a circle around her, every scrap of paper she’d collected or written.

“Miss?” Deek asked. Bless him, he always appeared when she entered. Probably how Professor Weasley kept an eye on her all year. Funny she hadn’t realized before.

“Just organizing, Deek,” Aurelia said. “We’ve O.W.Ls next week.”

“Of course. Can I get Miss anything?”

“Not right now but thank you.”

“Yes, Miss.” He waited a second but when she didn’t say anything else, he popped away. Aurelia sighed.

So. There would be no trial. But this was a world full of miracles, not least of which was the printing press. Maybe it wasn’t safe to publish now, what with whatever powerful figures Ominis feared, but she would be damned if she didn’t keep everything together.

A quick owl to the others had copies of their tellings in her hands adorably fast and for the rest of the weekend, Aurelia compiled everything into cohesive books. Three copies of Ranrok’s Rebellion that included Rookwood’s Ashwinders, their murder, extortion, and poaching. Two would be public. She left the other students’ words as they were, merely writing the transitions as clearly as she could. Those statements, plus their evidence and maps, made them truly massive volumes and even if the Ministry wanted to hide what happened, the truth would at least exist.

The only thing she changed in the two ‘public’ copies she made was the source of Ranrok’s power. Instead of finding repositories of great, powerful magic, Ranrok had found wells of magic waste. Isidora Morganach, a disgraced witch gone mad with grief, had done experiments on adults and children alike. Ranrok had found the waste from those experiments and consumed it, corrupting his followers with the addictive substance, not unlike Muggles falling to opium dens–enjoyable but ultimately destructive. The Keepers probably wouldn’t like it but they hadn’t been in their portraits since the final battle so f*ck them.

One ‘public’ copy she would keep for the Someday time of actual publishing. The other could go…to the Restricted Section. That would be easy enough to sneak in. The third, wholly true copy that included the Keepers and Ancient Magic, would remain with Aurelia.

It was so patchy though. She knew in her bones that Isidora’s portrait would’ve had something important to say. Maybe it would’ve been more selfishness but that still would’ve been information. Or maybe it would’ve been a warning. No one would ever know now and the idea that such a vital story could be lost made Aurelia incredibly anxious. Especially considering no one had taught her how to use Ancient Magic. The Keepers simply told her it was dangerous and left it at that.

Her grip on her wand tightened. Fire was dangerous. The sea was dangerous. That didn’t mean it couldn’t be useful. So it was too damaging to draw out emotions. Fine. What else could Ancient Magic do? Looking around at the floating books, she could See her magic. She could See the threads of Leviosa and Accio and Transfiguration. She could See the shielding spells on her enchanted loom and the earth tones of Puffskein fur, the brilliant glitter of unicorn hair and phoenix feathers. What if that was the point? What if Ancient Magic wasn’t a separate power at all? What if it was just the…oh, what was it called?

“Damn.” She’d find a book on fabric weaving later. She had two more years here; that was plenty of time to figure out what she called all this in her head.

A smooth sweep of her wand set the three Ranrok books down on a nearby table, her copy noticeably different with its solid red cover.

That left…Him. His story, His assistance, was vital to her work against Ranrok but there was much in His quest for His sister that had nothing to do with it. Aspects that felt…more private. She gently took His book, green, naturally, and ran her hand over the silver snake on the cover. It was biased. She knew it was. Mrs. Rhoades would chide her for putting so much ‘faffy’ emotion into it but Aurelia couldn’t help it. She’d been…f*ck. She’d been arrogant when it came to Him. She thought she could keep Him under control then when she couldn’t, she got angry. Scared.

God, she was so tired of feeling scared. She was so tired of feeling scared of men.

Which meant she had more to learn. Ancient Magic, normal spellwork, business because she couldn’t let Penny do all the work, defense and, now that she thought about it, evidence gathering. She’d just grabbed whatever she found while she was hunting but if what they all found wasn’t considered admissible in court, then they needed to do things differently.

After the O.W.Ls, she’d speak to Professor Sharp. It would tip her hand, all but screaming that she intended to stay in trouble, but maybe he would understand. He seemed to know how the world worked–how it actually worked instead of just what the other teachers claimed. Maybe he could teach her what not to do so as to not be in this position again.

She nodded. After the O.W.Ls. As for His account, she’d keep it with her for now. Ranrok’s Rebellion was country-wide news. One student, while tragic, wasn’t.

“Miss?”

She turned to see Deek with a platter of roast beef and vegetables.

“Would Miss like dinner?”

Her stomach growled for the first time in what felt like years.

“Yes, Deek.” She smiled. It felt better. “I’d love some.”

*

“Well, that was wretched,” Aurelia said. Ominis and a few others laughed as the fifth years left the Great Hall.

“And just think,” Ominis said. “We’ve only eight more to go.”

She groaned.

“Two weeks of this sh*t! Why can’t we just get it all done this week?”

“Practicals,” he said. “A History paper is one thing but Defense and Potions require performance.”

“You can’t Divine on command.”

“Oh, is your Sight not up to snuff, Miss Green?”

“I will push you down the stairs.”

He laughed.

“Come,” he said. “I think a Butterbeer is in order.”

“But we have to waaalk.”

“You are pitiful.”

“Yes.” She pulled her hair out of its tie and started redoing her braid. “In other news, Penny has agreed to teach me the business when school lets out.”

“You’re staying over the summer then?”

“I think it would be best. Especially if Professor Sharp agrees to teach me auror work.”

“Modified auror work. Trainees have to sign a waiver beforehand that they won’t sue the Ministry for any injuries. He won’t risk that level of intensity even if he agrees.”

“Sue? With what money, sir?”

He grinned.

“Speaking of which,” he said. “I had a thought about your poltergeist. What was his name?”

“Fastidio!” She puffed out her chest. “He must’ve been a Slytherin. So dramatic and posh.”

“No, Ravenclaw. Nobody but an Eagle could think they’re that much smarter than everyone else for that long.”

“Fair. Also, why are they not Ravens?”

“Rowena liked to confuse people. Anyway, my idea.” He held the main door for her and, together, they headed down to Hogsmeade.

“Seems like a lot of students need a break,” she muttered. “Yes, your idea.”

“He haunts after nine, correct?”

“Yes, two nights a month.”

“The same two nights?”

“Yes.”

“Why not turn it into an attraction? Not obviously, of course, but a few complaints in the right ears and first and second years will be daring each other to stay the night. Story gets out well enough, people may even make the trip just to visit the shop.”

“You think so?” She tilted her head, thinking. “You know, there was an old pub near where I grew up. There are supposedly four or five ghosts there and the more awful their stories when they were alive, the more popular they were.”

“Exactly. Do you think he’d agree to putting on a show outside? Can he exit the shop?”

“I don’t think he can leave but he would be all about putting on a show. I’ll speak with Penny and Sirona. Brilliant idea. Thank you.”

“I live to serve.” He did a little bow, a gesture so very Him they both paused for a second. She cleared her throat.

“Since you’re so full of good ideas today,” she said. “I have a question. More of a concern, really.”

“What’s your concern?”

“Gringotts.”

“Ah.” He nodded. “You’re afraid of retribution.”

“I…well, first, is it true that Wizarding women can have bank accounts?”

Ominis blinked.

“Beg pardon?”

“Well, I-I mean–” She shrugged, trying to ignore the way her cheeks flushed. “Muggle women aren’t allowed to have accounts in their own name. We’re ‘high risk investments,’ I think is what Mrs. Rhoades called it. They have to have their father’s signature but…I mean, I don’t…”

He held up his hand.

“Yes,” he said. “Single women are allowed to open bank accounts on their own. Daughters of noble Houses do sometimes have their fathers or brothers co-sign to help them manage the accounts but they just as often have their mothers do it. The only problem you might have is that you’re a minor and your contact is…”

“Dead.”

He nodded, wincing slightly.

“The paperwork might already be in place,” he said. “You had to get supplies from the Ministry somehow. You might already have an account at Gringotts.”

She wrinkled her nose.

“That’s another problem,” she said. “I don’t want to go back but everyone says they’re the only bank in England and I’m tired of charming my trunk every night.”

“Wouldn’t you anyway?”

“It takes a while.” She pressed her tongue up into her teeth. “There’s really no other way?”

“I’m afraid not. Not that you’d have easy access to. And not all goblins sided with Ranrok, correct? Didn’t you say one of the guards tried to help you?”

“He did. But just because they didn’t side with him doesn’t mean they didn’t agree with him. Can I trust people that hate me to not let me starve?”

“You won’t starve. And there are enchantments on the paperwork to prevent tampering inside and outside of the bank. Contracts in the wizarding world are binding to a much stronger degree than the muggle. There are real and immediate consequences for breaking them.”

“So…I could write a contract that covers how both sides proceed? Would that be rude?”

“Oh, unspeakably.”

“Great.”

He chuckled.

“After O.W.Ls,” he said. “I can help you figure out what protections you need. If you want to. And if, the next time you go there, they make assurances first, so much the better. At least you’d have a list of questions to ask.”

“Thank you. That would be wonderful.” One more thing on its way to being settled. She still wasn’t entirely comfortable with the idea of going back to Gringotts but if Ominis could help, maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. And she really didn’t fancy getting mugged for her gold in the middle of the street.

She went to open the door to the Three Broomsticks when he bapped her hand with his wand and opened it for her.

“Is that how we’re doing this?” she asked.

“Yes, that’s how we’re doing this.”

*

The History O.W.L. went well. Transfiguration and Potions went well. Herbology was a little touchy as some of the plants had a lot of multiple uses, definitely something she’d have to be careful with in the future. Charms was easy, Defense was a breeze, and Astronomy was actually pleasant due to it not being below thirty degrees at night. Care of Magical Creatures was great except for that one student who got sh*t on by a Giant Purple Toad. That left Divination.

“I failed,” Aurelia said. “I know I did. By question three, I was just making things up. Got to a question about Madam Leveau and nearly cried just because I could answer it.”

Natty laughed, patting her on the back.

“It’s all right,” she said. “It’s over. And really, you didn’t want to become a Seer anyway, did you?”

“Only at a carnival. Although, I know what to do if the shop doesn’t work out.”

“You are terrible.”

“What about you? What do you plan to be when you grow up?”

“I want to be an auror.” Natty smiled, sure in a way that had become wonderfully comforting. “I’ll have to be careful of how much I talk about, of course, but nothing is so satisfying as catching a Dark Wizard. And who knows? Maybe I’ll catch someone before they do something truly terrible.”

Aurelia smiled back.

“That sounds good,” she said. “If anyone can do it, you can.”

“Thanks. Hey, you’d be a stellar auror too. Have you spoken to Professor Sharp? Or Professor Hecat?”

“Not yet. That was my plan after O.W.Ls. but it might have to wait til tomorrow. I don’t think I could tie my shoes right now.”

Natty laughed.

“All right. Well, I hope you make it down to dinner then. See you later.”

“See you later.”

They parted ways at the stairs and Aurelia headed to one of the courtyards, gratefully breathing in air not full of incense as she flopped onto one of the benches. It really was beautiful here. Always a new style of architecture to find, a new little hideaway with pretty flowers, a new cat to love. A tortoiseshell mewed at her a couple times then hopped into her lap. Thus drafted, Aurelia obediently started petting, letting her eyes drift out of focus.

Students walked by, some rushing to get to their next test, some wandering as she had. One boy didn’t even make it to a bench. He just stretched out face down on the grass. His threads were still bright though so Aurelia didn’t rush to help.

According to her new library book on textiles, ‘warp’ was the set of threads that ran vertically on a loom, thicker strands that worked as the frame for the fabric itself. ‘Weft’ was the thread or threads attached to the shuttle that went horizontally, the color or pattern.

Ancient Magic, as near as she could figure, was the warp, a single, consistent not-color that the individual’s personal magic built around. The boy on the ground was full of blues and greens with only a bit of orange. The girl running to catch up with her friends glowed bright red and purple with a smattering of yellow. The cat in her lap…hmm. Earth tones and…greys? Last she saw grey was with the Inferi corpses.

“Just what have you got into, puss puss?”

The cat purred.

Most people seemed to have one or two dominant colors with faint traces of others. Shades varied from person to person but she was beginning to divide the colors into broad categories. Charms were warm colors so Professor Ronen looked like a ball of cuddly fire. Transfiguration seemed to be more cool colors so Professor Weasley looked more like a calm pillar of water. Aurelia hadn’t expected so many shades of each kind though so she’d have to do more research into the different kinds of spells and match that to what she Saw in class.

She smiled at the thought of how Madam Scribner’s face lit up when she asked about magical theory. Maybe it was the trauma, maybe it was her father issues, but Aurelia just didn’t quite trust something always working just because it always had.

Clouds shifted overhead and she turned her face towards the sunlight. So warm…

A poke. She lifted her head, Looking as far as she could past the bundles of yarn that was the student body. Fast vibration for stress, slow vibration for calm or sad. The castle had been alive with frizzy tangles lately, no surprise, but this felt…

There. Ominis. f*ck.

Hopping on the collapsible broom that she always kept on her since she found it in a random poacher camp, she flew up and around, narrowly avoiding a gargoyle that decided it had to stretch right then. Where was he? A downside of Seeing the world like this; it tended to ignore such unimportant things as walls and floors. She almost flew into eight windows before she realized he was in the Slytherin Common Room. Which she couldn’t get into because of their password.

No matter. She went the long way round, trying to keep Ominis in her Sight despite the headache forming, and went straight to the portrait of some noble nearby.

“I’m here to see Ominis Gaunt, please,” she said. The noble sneered down at her.

“He’s upset and I’m worried about him,” she said. “I could just as easily blast through the wall, if you like. Dealer’s choice.”

The noble curled his lip, opening his mouth to say something, when his eyes flickered behind her.

“Oh, look, it’s the little rat from the kitchens.”

The noble smirked, leaning back and folding his arms as she turned to face…ah, three Slytherins. Upperclassmen, from the looks of it.

“I’m here to see Ominis, please,” she said.

“No.” The middle boy, a tall, rather handsome young man with shoulder-length, platinum blonde hair that swept across his forehead, took a couple steps forward. “If Mr. Gaunt needs anything, his house will ensure he has it. He doesn’t need…” His eyes dipped down her body and back up. “Your help.”

Hufflepuff, Muggle-born, lower class, female. Truly a roll of the dice which one made his nose turn up like that. But she didn’t want to make things worse for Ominis. Guilt by association and all.

“In that case,” she said. “Could you please check on him and let me know if he’s all right?”

“Report to a mudblood?” Another boy, dark-skinned with an accent, scoffed. “The nerve of this rat.” Ah. He must’ve been the first one to talk.

Aurelia looked to the last student, a stunningly attractive girl that flicked her perfect blonde hair over her shoulder.

“Run along, little mouse,” she said. “Slytherins take care of their own.”

“I’ve heard that,” Aurelia said. “Closer than family. I hope.”

The blonde boy’s eyes glittered. Good. He got it.

“Off you go,” he said softly. Aurelia clenched her fists, mind flashing through how she could take them all out–but that would still leave her locked out of the Common Room and she was certain that portrait would have no problem reporting that.

Warm colors, anyway, all of them, and she didn’t know which charms they favored. Could be harmless appearance charms. Could be Bombarda. Her temples were throbbing.

“Do give him my best,” she said.

“Of course,” the girl said. Aurelia nodded and walked away, fighting the urge to hunch her shoulders with every step. Money. Power. Entitlement. She hated dealing with people like that, hated feeling small and unseen. It made something very dark and very angry rear up and snap its jaws and she knew that would just make it worse. Knowing that didn’t remove her desire to shred blood and bone with her teeth though and wasn’t that something to confess in church.

Sighing, she let go of the Sight and went back to her Room.

Chapter 4

Chapter Text

“I apologize for my housemates.” Ominis sat down across from her at the library after dinner that night. “They do mean well, in their own way. I hope you’re not hurt.”

“Nothing wounded but my pride.” Aurelia moved her books to the side. “Are you all right?”

“I should be asking you that. I thought we were done with school for the year.”

“Magical theory. I think I’m beginning to understand spellcraft a bit better. If I look at it as a weave of some kind, it makes more sense.”

“Because of your work as a tailor.”

“Yes. Every fabric has a different texture and behavior. If you mend something, it changes the volume because you either have to fold it or add…material…” She stared at her notes. Oh. Oh, sh*t.

“Miss Green?”

“Ripping out a loose thread can cause irreparable damage depending on how delicate the fabric.” She rubbed her forehead. “She ripped it out without repairing it. That’s what caused the continued damage. It was like she yanked it then torched it and it just kept burning. But repairs add material, which doesn’t matter for stone or clothing but for something like that, it would be just as dangerous as…f*ck.”

“Ah. Glad I could help.”

She blinked.

“Sorry,” she said, hastily scribbling out the thought before it vanished. “Sorry, it’s for the–I mean…”

He held up his hand, a gentle smile on his face.

“It has to do with all the excitement?” he asked.

“Rather a big part, yes.”

“Then I’m glad you understand it better.”

She smiled back. Such a good heart.

“Are you all right?” she asked. His smile faltered and he sighed, rubbing his face.

“I received an owl from my lawyer this morning,” he said. “Sebastian is being…difficult.”

“Won’t stop talking?”

“It’s like every awful, hateful thing he’s ever thought is pushing its way out all at once. And at the worst possible times. In front of a ministry official is not the time to call for purges and systemic overhauls. And what he said about you–” He froze, licked his lips, cleared his throat. “I mean…”

Sighing, she started filing her notes in a portfolio she’d picked up. Handy things, those multiple pockets.

“What did He say?” she asked.

“It’s unimportant. Just ravings. He’s angry and lashing out the only way he can.”

“Yes, Ominis. Tell me what He said. I won’t hold it against you just because you’re friends.”

“He’s a twat.”

She looked at him.

“You can glare at me all you want,” he said. “I can’t see you to be intimidated.”

“Ominis.”

He wrinkled his nose, eyes dropping.

“He’s still saying everything was for Anne,” he said slowly. “But he’s also saying he was ‘distraught’ and ‘not in his right mind’ because of his relationship with you.”

“Relationship.” A strange weight started squirming in her gut. “We weren’t together. I mean, like that.”

“No, I know. He’d have told me. Or panicked about something and come to me for advice despite my objections. But he’s implying and he did have a reputation as a notorious flirt. The lawyer thinks it could work for a dramatic young love angle. Temporary madness, as it were.”

“What, so He killed His uncle for me? That’s asinine.”

“He’s also saying you’re pregnant.”

She slammed her hand on the table.

“That is a bald-faced lie!”

“I know!” Ominis held up his hands. “I know. You wanted me to tell you.”

“Honestly, even if I were, I’ve been through too much for me to have kept it. Who the hell does He–”

“Keep your voice down! Unless you want the whole school talking about it.”

She glanced around, Searching. Nobody. Everyone was in their dorms or sneaking down to Hogsmeade or whatever.

“What does the lawyer think?” she asked.

“He thinks it could be an option. Sebastian would still go to Azkaban for a couple years but if they could present enough emotional distress, they could try for a plea deal. His parents, his change in lifestyle, his sister, his uncle.”

“And me.”

“And me. He’s mentioned how he lost me as well. Betrayed.” His brow furrowed and she put a hesitant hand on his arm.

“You were scared for your friend,” she said. “It’s not your fault he’s so good at talking.”

“No, but I should’ve–”

“You ‘should’ve’ not had to deal with it at all. If the adults weren’t so completely useless, we’d be children like we ought, not soldiers solving their problems.”

“No, please. Tell me how you really feel.”

She glanced at him, noting the mild smirk in the corner of his mouth, and stuck out her tongue.

“I’m tired,” she said. “And I don’t think it’s going to stop any time soon.”

“I know. I’m tired too.”

“I’m sorry you have to be.”

“I’m sorry my friend is such an idiot.”

She waved her hand and went back to gathering her things.

“So the lawyer’s using it then?” she asked. “Lovestruck teenaged boy loses his mind?”

“It’s…possible. Unless I order him not to.”

“Would it help?”

“I don’t know.”

She paused.

“It might,” he said. She nodded.

“I hate it,” she said. “But I also hate that there are so many rumors about me in the first place. He can say He fancied me but I draw the line at ever being pregnant. I don’t need ‘whor*’ on my resume along with everything else.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Have you eaten?”

“No, I missed dinner. Too embarrassed of my childhood-friend-turned-murderer besmirching the honor of the only friend I have left.”

“Get your wand then. We’re going to the kitchens.”

“Do I have a choice?”

“No.”

*

“No.”

“No?”

“No.” Professor Sharp turned back to his paperwork. “It’s illegal. It’s a miracle you weren’t shipped to Azkaban with the rest of them.”

“But I’m in danger,” Aurelia said.

“You were in danger because Professor Fig made an error in judgment, gods rest him. And it almost got you and other students killed multiple times but it’s over.”

“It’s over.”

“Yes, it’s over.”

Aurelia put both hands on his desk.

“Look me in the eye and tell me you truly believe, in your gut, that this is over and I will never have to fight again.”

“My gut got my partner killed.”

“Professor Hecat said defense has to be perfect all the time but offense just has to be lucky once. True or false?”

“True but–”

“My defense is sh*t! It has been pure luck since that dragon ate those thestrals and if something comes for me again, I could co*ck it up even worse!”

“Exactly, because you are a child and this is not your responsibility.”

“None of it’s been my responsibility! Getting a job and paying the bills at eight shouldn’t have been my responsibility either, nor the goblins or the poachers or, hell, even the f*cking centaurs but it dropped on my head anyway and I cannot, in good conscience, keep going as I have been. I want to be prepared.”

“No.” His eyes flashed. “You want to be in control and that is the first thing you must learn as an auror: things spiral wildly out of control all the time. The best can de-escalate situations before they get completely untenable but often the most one can hope for is an advantage. Without resorting to Dark Arts.”

Aurelia froze then slowly straightened up.

“Fear can be a powerful motivator,” she said quietly.

“Fear isn’t enough and it certainly isn’t a defense. You must be smart. After every case, every shift in the field, an auror submits their wand for examination and every spell used that day is logged and evaluated. You cannot rely on your fear or instincts.”

She felt her throat begin to ache again.

“But I don’t know what else to do,” she said.

“And if you did, if you had alternatives, would you still throw curses?”

She bit her tongue, hands flexing at her sides.

“I would do what I had to.”

Professor Sharp stared at her for a long, long moment. Long enough for her to wonder if she should just cut her losses and leave. He seemed to be arguing her point for her but still hated the idea. Was he afraid of getting in trouble? If she messed up and it got back to him, would he be held responsible? sh*t. Probably. And if she died, or if another student died, it would be his partner all over again.

Her shoulders began to droop. Well. She could understand that. Maybe she could go to London, find a bookstore that carried legal texts. At least then, she’d have a basic fence line the next time something happened.

“That’s illegal, Miss Green,” he said at last. “And grossly irresponsible of me. I’ve seen how you behave with just a little information. If I teach you more, you may feel equipped or worse, entitled, to act without supervision, which will make you a danger to yourself and the other students. I’m sorry.”

“Yes, sir.” She took a step back. “Thank you for your time, sir.”

A nod of her head and she was gone, walking…somewhere as long as it was away. When she finally came to a stop, she was outside in one of the many courtyards and sat down heavily on the railing. Too heavily. The stone hurt her tailbone. Ugh. She probably sat in bird sh*t too. Lovely.

So there went that plan. Professor Hecat might agree or she might have the same reservations, reservations that would be solved if Aurelia just knew what to do. But she also couldn’t promise she wouldn’t go off and handle things. Sitting and waiting felt too much like waiting to die and if she was going to die, she was going to die on her feet, not sitting in the kitchen by the window.

Her fists clenched in her lap. God, she was so frustrated she could scream. Even Professor Bakar used Avada Kedavra. The Dark Arts were useful. It was fools like Isidora that f*cked it up for everyone else and–

And now she sounded like Him.

“Dammit!”

“Oh, dear.”

She leapt up, whirling to see Professor Ronen.

“That kind of morning already?” he asked with a smile. Aurelia quickly pasted on a smile to match.

“Ah,” he said. “That kind of morning.” He sat down on the railing, patting the spot next to him. “I suppose the O.W.Ls have been the least of your worries this year, yes?”

“Yes.” She sat back down. “Though I seriously considered turning the Transfiguration proctor into a chicken.”

“Ha! I wanted to turn him into an emu. Have you ever seen an emu?”

She shook her head.

“Great big creatures, birds as tall as a man. Can’t fly, of course, but they can run with these great big toes. And attitude! So much attitude. But!” He lowered his voice, leaning closer. “Sometimes, people will try to ride them. I could just imagine the proctor running around, squawking and flapping, while some first year tried to grab hold.”

She couldn’t help it; she smiled for real. Hard not to around Professor Ronen. His mission to be the teacher he never had really shone through in how he taught and interacted with the students.

Like Professor Fig. Her heart squeezed and she looked away.

“Yes,” he said. “I miss him too. He was a good man. And a good friend.”

“And he died for it.”

“Oh, no. No, child. Eleazar died because of bad people. You are not a bad person, therefore, he did not die because of you.”

“I used Dark magic.” f*ck it. Clearly, she wasn’t as secretive as she thought so f*ck it. “Just had a fight with Professor Sharp about it. I had to fight, had to finish the job, and the Dark Arts were there before the other spells so I used them.”

“Efficient, aren’t they?”

“Frighteningly so, yes.”

“Mmm.” He rubbed his chin, feet tapping on the pavement. “I came from a little village outside Tel Aviv. Awful place. Run down, no running water, not much better than some of the hamlets around here. But it was home. Until it wasn’t.”

He looked at her, his mouth curving into a small, sad smile.

“Easy to only have good thoughts when you only experience good things. But when you know the bad things exist, when you know how bad it can be, your mind thinks ‘well, there’s always that.’ That’s the trick. Do you take those bad things into your heart and use them as an excuse? Or do you choose to do something different? Like your friend, Miss Onai.”

“I want to do good. I want to make a difference like she did. But I’m so tired and…angry. I think that’s why the curses were so easy for me. I’m angry.”

“And why is that a bad thing?”

“I…” She frowned. “Isn’t it?”

“No, ‘angry’ is just an emotion. Grief is angry. Hope is angry. The desire to fight and protect and do better is nothing but angry. It’s what you do with it. Who did you use curses on? Were they innocent people? Or were they men that threw those same curses or worse at you?”

“But doesn’t that make me just as bad?”

“Well.” He shrugged. “I suppose some would argue that. Certainly the British Ministry would. But the world isn’t black and white like that. People are complicated and those complications get worse the more people are involved. Banning everything that violates free will would protect against Imperio but it would also ban fertility potions and a good many traditional rituals that are older than this school. In that instance, one hard and fast rule hurts more than it helps.

“On the other hand, too many exceptions can also be a danger. One student with a good head on her shoulders goes off to fight Evil and it turns out well. Then another student who thinks they are just as smart tries the same thing.”

“And everything falls apart.”

“Mm-hmm. We teachers must think of every student, not just the one in front of us. Not even just the class in front of us. All students, now and in the future, and balancing along that line of ‘rule’ and ‘exception’ can be tricky.” His eyes glinted knowingly. “That can make it feel like we don’t care. We do. We just…”

“Have to care about everyone. I understand. It’s just frustrating when I keep hearing that I don’t know enough but no one will teach me. How am I supposed to learn and be better if I’m not allowed to learn?”

“Oh, you sound just like me when I was your age.”

“How did you deal with it?”

“Many ill-advised adventures–which I will not tell you or Professor Weasley will have my hide.” He chuckled, grinning like a mischievous uncle. “I had to learn what was Right and Wrong. I had to learn what I could and could not accept. And then I had to learn the courage to act on it. Coincidentally, that is why Divination is so important. It teaches discernment and trusting yourself and knowing when it’s really your conscience and not just your emotions or hungry belly.”

“I don’t think Professor Onai likes me much right now.”

“Professor Onai is reliving her husband’s death. She came very close to losing her daughter in front of her and it will take time for her to center again but she will. Or she won’t. It doesn’t mean you can’t learn from her.”

“So instead of learning how to fight and do police work, I should instead focus on getting myself in order.”

“What we believe shapes how we view and interact with the world. What’s important to you? Right now, in this moment. What do you value most?”

Aurelia chewed on her lip.

“Loyalty,” she said after a beat. “Keeping your word. Honesty.” Her stomach twinged. “Which means I have some apologies to make.”

“An excellent start.” He nodded, pleased, and stood. “My work here is done.”

“Thank you, Professor.”

“Of course. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I believe it’s time for me to annoy Professor Black with a bird charm or dozen. Lehitra’ot!*”

She watched the cheerful man walk away, all bright colors and happy humming. It was nice. Then she thought of Ominis and she cringed. She’d treated him so horribly for so much of the year and he still called her ‘friend.’ God, she was awful. No wonder Professor Sharp didn’t want to teach her. That was quite literally putting a loaded gun in her hand and hoping for the best.

An image of Professor Fig laughing at the polyjuice incident flashed through her mind. Her ‘best’ clearly wasn’t good enough. So she had to get better. And that meant doing better.

Groaning, she went back to her Room and started making lists. Ominis first then…well…whoever else she’d wronged over the past year.

f*ck.

Chapter 5

Chapter Text

Aurelia really didn’t interact with many students. She recognized them from meals and classes but they weren’t friends. Amit deserved a letter of apology though. She’d been so concerned with Lodgok’s information, it hadn’t occurred to her that Amit would need to be told it was dangerous or told how it was dangerous. That night, she’d felt such a wide gap between them, as if she were some ancient creature and he was just a scared little boy. Which she supposed he was. No wonder he avoided her after.

Poppy and Natty would’ve run headlong into danger whether Aurelia had helped or not but she’d been short with them, hiding things she probably shouldn’t have. Add that to the list of Flaws. If Aurelia had learned nothing else from Fastidio, it was that clear, concise, carefully chosen words were vital. In their letters, she was sorry she dragged them into such danger without preparing them and she would endeavor to do better as a friend in the future. She couldn’t tell them why all of it was such a mess but she could try to be better.

Adelaide was fine, as far as Aurelia could tell, and Zenobia. Garreth was less a case of hypocrisy and more that she compromised her values with such little prodding. She hadn’t cared that he was doing something potentially dangerous, feeling as if whatever consequences were his and his alone. But he could’ve hurt someone else, just like she’d gotten people hurt. His letter was an apology that she hadn’t asked for more clarification. They weren’t friends but they were classmates and she had at least a small responsibility to make sure he’d thought things through.

The letters to Professor Onai and Professor Sharp were about responsibility. Aurelia would do better about planning and thinking things through and if it still went badly, she would accept the consequences. She didn’t want anyone else to suffer for her mistakes.
Professor Weasley deserved an apology too. That letter was a little trickier to write as Aurelia had been under direct orders to keep her mouth shut but she felt like she owed Professor Weasley something. She had to rewrite it a few times–excuses were all too easy to list–but she managed.

Ominis…Well. She wrote out a letter to Ominis so she knew what to say but she felt he deserved something face to face. She’d rather not; just the thought of seeing his gentle face crumble with disappointment made her want to throw up. But she wanted to be better.

He deserved better.

Her chance came the Thursday after O.W.Ls. After sending the letters that morning, she went hunting for Mr. Gaunt. It took a good couple hours, even with her Sight, but she eventually found him in the music room. He was singing.

“Twas grace that taught my heart to fear*
And grace my fears relieved
How precious did that grace appear
The hour I first believed…”

She stopped in the hall, biting her lip to keep from breathing too hard. His voice was clear and soft, rainwater over her fingers, fragrant grass in the spring.

“Through many dangers, toils, and snares
I have already come
This grace that brought me safe thus far
And grace will bring me home…”

His magic was warm threads pulsing and swaying with his voice. She knew the song, remembered singing back when…She remembered. It hurt.

The music stopped.

“Miss Green?”

sh*t. She stepped into the doorway.

“Apologies,” she said. “I didn’t mean to intrude.”

“It’s all right,” Ominis said. “We were just wrapping up for the day. Thank you, Dahlia.”

The stunning blonde girl from outside Slytherin stood gracefully from the piano.

“Miss Aurelia Green,” Ominis said. “This is Miss Dahlia Greengrass.”

The two girls eyed each other.

“Pleasure,” Aurelia said with a nod.

“Likewise,” Dahlia said. “Ominis.” A nod to the boy and she left, posture perfect and steady. Hmm. Aurelia really should learn how to do that. She bet Dahlia commanded the room as soon as she entered.

“Sixth year,” Ominis said. “I’ve known their family for years. Trying to find something to do before the End of Year Feast?”

“You could say that.”

He frowned, turning towards her.

“What is it?”

sh*t, of course he could hear something like that. Aurelia took a breath.

“I need to speak with you, if you have a moment.”

“Of course. Do we need to sit or would it be easier if we walked?”

“I…” Bless him. “Walking. Please.”

“All right.” He gestured her through the door first then shut it behind them.

“How do you know a muggle song?” she asked.

“Music is universal.”

“It’s not.”

“Well.” He grinned. “We all have our little rebellions.”

She grinned back but it faltered quickly, her gut twisting into knots. What if he never wanted to speak to her again? She didn’t have many friends here to begin with.

“Aurelia, what is it? Your heart’s beating faster than a niffler’s.”

He deserved better. He deserved better from her.

“I wanted to apologize,” she said. “I lied to you and manipulated you almost the entire school year. I thought I could keep Him under control and I told you what you wanted to hear so you’d leave us alone. I was arrogant and condescending and I am so, so sorry.”

“Wait, wait, wait.” He stopped, pulling them off to the side and waving his wand. A shimmery curtain seemed to fall around them, spiderwebs of translucent red and yellow. “What’s brought this on? Has someone said something? Did the upperclassmen give you grief?”

“No, no, nothing like that. It was just…brought to my attention that I should use this time to figure out what’s important to me. Honesty and loyalty are important to me and I realized I get angry when people aren’t honest with me but I had no problem lying to you all year.”

“Mmm.” His wand, its tip glowing red, hovered closer to her face. “And why did you lie?”

“I needed Him to help me with my…assignment. And I considered you an obstacle.”

“Until he scared you.”

“There were hints. Comments. I tried to brush them off, justify them. I even thought about bringing them up to you but I thought…I don’t know, that it was my problem and I had to fix it. I’m sorry I didn’t respect your friendship and His well being enough to be honest. I’m sorry I manipulated you into reliving so much trauma. I’m sorry I took your best friend away.”

“Aurelia…” He sighed. “You didn’t take my best friend away. He did. The other apologies, though, I accept. You were thoroughly Slytherin in those moments.”

“Is that a compliment?”

“I’m not sure.”

She smiled slightly. He was being so gentle. sh*t sh*t sh*t.

“There’s one more thing.” She lowered her voice. “He taught me Confringo and the Unforgivables. And I used them to fight.”

Ominis went still, his face so utterly blank she felt it like a blast of frigid air. She almost whimpered.

“Yes,” he said. “I know.”

“You know?”

“There are ears everywhere. Confringo, I can understand. Crucio…I remember. Why the other two?”

“He thought I could use Imperio. Taught me when we went to the catacomb the first time.”

“And you’ve used it since?”

“Yes. If there were too many Ashwinders or goblins, I’d Imperio the strongest one while I fought off the rest. It bought me time before I killed them.”

“Killed.”

sh*t. Right, she’d never told him that she killed either.

“You’ve killed people,” he said.

“Yes.”

“Plural.”

“Yes.”

“Yet you had the audacity to say we should turn in Sebastian. Did you use the Killing Curse too?”

f*ck f*ck f*ck.

“No,” she said. “Not at first. After…after Solomon. He left the catacomb before I could talk to Him. I found Him pacing and muttering outside, kept repeating that He didn’t mean it and His uncle deserved it and none of this would’ve happened if Anne had just come alone. I got scared. When He said it was foolish for teachers not to teach students those spells, I agreed with Him to…keep Him calm, I guess. Keep Him from getting angry again. And I thought I could use it against Ranrok. So He taught me.”

Ominis hissed something under his breath. She swallowed bile.

“Did you use it against Ranrok?” he asked.

“I did. And others. Mostly trolls or Dark Wizards that wouldn’t go down another way.”

“So it was self-defense.”

She grimaced. In for a penny.

“Not all of it. Some of them…I attacked first. Before they could see me.”

He sighed, nodding, but didn’t say anything. She didn’t either. She just waited, fidgeting with her braid. Would he turn her in? He’d have every right to. It was ridiculous that she said to turn Him in when she’d been a thousand times worse.

But that look in His eyes…

“I asked you to stop once before,” Ominis said at length. “And you didn’t.”

“No.”

“Because you thought you had to continue.”

“Yes.”

“And if I asked you to stop now?”

She laced her hands together, pushing her fingers into the webbing.

“I don’t know if I could. Not in an addictive way. They’re just tools to me now, effective tools that I’m used to having available, and if it’s a choice between death or serious injury and using a curse, I’m going to use a curse.”

“So what can you promise me? You’ve obviously had some kind of epiphany the last few days.”

She didn’t like the thread of steel in his tone, felt like it was just loose enough not to cut and she was at his mercy for it.

“I can promise to figure out what’s Right and Wrong,” she said. “I can promise to write rules and stick to them. With real consequences so I can’t just change them when I feel like it. I can promise I would be extremely careful of when and how I used any spell.”

He nodded slowly.

“They are an instant Azkaban sentence,” he said. “You understand this. There is no ‘careful enough’ for someone like you. You don’t have the influence, power, or money to be that protected.”

“You’re right.”

“But they’re not off the table.”

“Not if it’s a life or death choice.”

He pressed his lips in a tight line.

“And, obviously,” he said. “You don’t plan on stopping these mysterious excursions. You said you used all of them. Crucio too? Beyond that accursed office?”

“Yes.”

“How?”

“To knock someone back, disrupt a spell. I’d cast it and while they were…incapacitated, I’d take care of someone else. Usually, they got up and started shooting at me again so I’d hit them with something else.”

“So a warning shot almost. A chance to not fight.”

“Yes.”

“Good. That’s…” He hissed under his breath again. “I don’t know how to process this. You understand why I hate the Dark Arts. You get it.”

“Yes. Completely.” She clasped her hands behind her back. “I’ll accept whatever you decide.”

“I…” He looked towards her, blind eyes flicking back and forth as he thought. “I need time.”

f*ck.

“All right.” She backed out of the shimmer. “I will await your response then. Good day. Mr. Gaunt.”

“Good day, Miss Green.”

She walked away, fighting to keep her face neutral. She made this bed. She had no right to wail over the fallout.

f*ck.

*

Hufflepuff won the House Cup, Professor Weasley using Aurelia’s bravery as an excuse to dump a hundred points on the badgers. Her housemates were ecstatic, of course, and Aurelia wondered if that meant they–she and Professor Weasley–were all right. No one had responded to her letters. Well. None of the adults, anyway. Poppy jumped on Aurelia’s bed and beat her about the head with her pillow for even daring to suggest something was wrong and Natty stood waiting at the Hufflepuff table at breakfast, hands on her hips for a scolding that was only about sixty percent English.

Amit was gracious and grateful, accepting her apology for nearly getting him killed and encouraging her continued growth. Garreth was just sad he lost a resource.

Nothing from Ominis.

So she tried not to think about it. She ate with her housemates, staying up late and listening to them chatter like she couldn’t during the rest of the year. The next morning, she walked them all down to the carriages, lost in a sea of colorful coats and robes. The Upperclassmen, in particular, had some gorgeous clothes. Her fingers itched to look at the linings for some of those coats. Silk, probably. Especially if they were Purebloods or Half-bloods. Not raw silk but possibly dupioni, screen-painted, because only the rich would waste money on something no one else would see.

“Bye!”

“See you next year!”

“Don’t forget to write!”

Aurelia watched the other students hug and wave to each other even after they got on the train. Odd how such a thing could be bittersweet. It was only a couple of months but Natty and Professor Onai were going back to Uagadou for the summer, all of the Hufflepuffs were gone, and even some of the teachers were going on vacation. The castle was going to be so quiet.

Sighing, she turned, only to jump slightly at the sight of Ominis leaning on the sign post.

“Good morning,” he said. “May I accompany you back to the castle?”

She swallowed, her mouth suddenly dry.

“Of course.”

He nodded and they began the long trek up the hill. She hadn’t noticed before but her footsteps on the pavement were loud and clunky. His, by comparison, were light, his feet rolling from heel to toe instead of just dropping onto the path. She moved like that when she was sneaking up on camps but for him to do it now…Did he always walk like that?

Did he think she was a threat?

“First,” he said. “I’d like to thank you for letting me think. I know it can’t have been easy for you but I do appreciate it.”

“You’re welcome. Have you made a decision?”

“I…have made some realizations. If not for the Dark Arts, I’d still have my family and my friends. On the other hand, if not for the Dark Arts, we would all be dead several times over. I’m not so blind as to not see that.”

“Professor Ronen said the world isn’t black and white.”

“No. Much as I’d like it to be. Something you said stuck with me though. You said you used Crucio as a way to break their form, give them warnings, and Avada was a way to end the fight.”

“Yes.”

“If you had other spells, other skills as alternatives, would you use those instead?”

“Professor Sharp asked me the same thing.”

“And what did you say?”

She sighed, sticking her hands in her pockets.

“I said I couldn’t promise I wouldn’t use them. I mean, with practice, I’m sure I could get used to using something else but…I’d always know they were there. And Confringo has so much more range than the other spells.”

“So you prefer fighting from a distance.”

“Yes, it gives me time to react, think of a plan, take in where everyone is.”

“Mmm.”

They walked in silence for a moment, the only sound the crunch of the gravel under their shoes. Her shoes. She wondered how much his cost.

“Why can’t you just stop?” he asked. “Stop fighting, stop getting into situations where you’d have to?”

“It’s…complicated.”

“Of course it is.”

Another beat.

“I can’t fault you for using what was available,” he said. “You’d only just Awakened; of course you didn’t know what was possible or the ethics behind it all. I just worry that you don’t fully understand the consequences and I’m very concerned about your mindset.”

“Oh, I understand the consequences.”

“I’m not talking about Azkaban. Power of any kind is addictive and you’ve made several comments implying you had a difficult upbringing. Now, for the first time, you feel strong. That’s the danger. That’s the cost I’ve been screaming about all year. The Dark Arts are effective to get what you want and soon you’re making compromises you never would’ve considered.”

“You think I’ll turn evil?”

“I think any one of us could turn out like Sebastian, given the right circ*mstances.”

“It wasn’t just the Dark Arts for Him or for the Ashwinders. It was greed and hate and desperation. Can you tell me, without a shadow of a doubt, that your family would be good people if they just didn’t use curses?”

He snorted.

“Merlin, no. No, they are vindictively intelligent and spiteful to the core. The Dark Arts are simply their favorite tools.” He tilted his head. “Tell me, why did you feel the need to apologize to me? Why admit you’d done all of that when you knew how much I hated the Dark Arts? When I have your fate quite literally in my hands? I could make your life hell. I could skip Azkaban entirely and just make you disappear.”

She swallowed.

“Because you deserve better,” she said. “I’ve f*cked up your life enough, haven’t I?”

“You wanted to give me the choice.”

“Yes.”

“Even if that choice was to discontinue our friendship?”

She winced, her throat aching like it was full of glass.

“Yes,” she managed. “I told you I would accept whatever you decided.”

“Up to and including sending you to Azkaban with Sebastian? We barely know each other. I have no reason to protect you as I do him. You would get a life sentence, easily, and I would lose very little sleep.”

She clenched her fists. There was that tone outside the Undercroft, the high-born prince issuing judgment. It hurt but it was also a relief, in a way. At least she knew what to expect from him.

If only her eyes would stop burning.

“What?” he asked. “Nothing to say? Where’s that silver tongue from outside the Scriptorium?”

She pressed her lips together, shaking her head.

“I just want someone to be honest whether they hate me or not,” she said. He sighed and stopped walking.

“I don’t hate you, Aurelia. I think…I think that’s the most confusing part of it. You’ve become everything I’ve grown to hate yet here you are, trying to make amends even though you could lose everything.”

She shrugged.

“This is all I can do.”

“Mmm.” He drummed his fingers on his leg. “Would you be willing to work with me to write out a code of conduct? A code that included how much force to use and under what circ*mstances?”

“What?” She blinked at him. “I mean, yes. Yes, I think that would be a really good idea.”

“What about non-combative tools?”

“Like what?”

“Talking. He’s a mischievous prat but Sebastian’s one of the best talkers I’ve ever known. In Pureblood circles, word choice, tone, and body language, can be just as effective as any spell. Would you agree to trying that first?”

“Absolutely. Fighting is dangerous. You’re right; I do feel strong and powerful. Sometimes I even feel in control. But I’ve also had to hold in my guts until I could dig out a potion so the less I have to risk injury or, hell, even clean up, the better. So long as you…” She made a face. Honesty. “So long as you understand that violence is still an option for me. It’s effective and some people need to die.”

“I understand.” He started walking again and she fell in step with him. “I hate it but I understand.”

“So…are we all right then?”

“We are…on the way to ‘all right.’ I wish this was hypothetical. I wish I was just being paranoid. But even with the very little you and Sebastian have told me, I think it would be dangerously naive to think you won’t get involved in something else.”

“I thought that too.”

“We can start next week then.”

“Next week?”

“I’m going to check on Anne in the morning. This afternoon, though, I have time to help you figure out what questions you need to ask the Gringotts goblins.” His lips twitched. “Or have you changed your mind about a vault?”

She gaped for a second then impulsively squeezed his arm.

“Thank you.”

He gave a small smile and nodded.

“Have you spoken to Professor Weasley?” he asked.

“Yes. She gave me the paperwork for…It’s not an actual account. Professor Fig and I never went to set one up but he had the paperwork for when we did go. Does it…Will it still count?”

“If his signature is on it, it counts. Though you might need a copy of the death certificate and his liaison designation.”

“I think she put it in the packet. I’ll check.”

“All right. Why don’t you start with your first visit then?”

Chapter 6

Chapter Text

Ominis had taken to staying at Hogwarts and Feldcroft during the different breaks sometime in third year so not only did he know the castle like the back of his hand, he also had a fairly long leash when it came to Hogsmeade and Diagon Alley. Just because he didn’t like his family didn’t mean he wasn’t a younger son of one of the oldest Houses in Britain. The pass to go to London was easy to get once he returned from the Greengrass Estate.

Anne also said ‘hello.’ Aurelia threw up.

Now, she just had to figure out what to wear to Gringotts. Long skirts and full blouses would be more…normal. For a Muggle. She’d look pretty and feminine and…She sighed. Utterly dismissable. Long dresses would look more ‘witchy’ but from what she saw from the Professors, that was hit or miss too. Tight sleeves and broad shoulders or flowy skirts and big hats. None of it felt ‘professional.’

Also, none of the dresses she had felt all that nice. They were homespun, basic, and if she’d learned anything from her first year here, it was that class mattered.

Trousers then. She’d found high-quality slacks and waistcoats in the Ashwinder camps. So long as she didn’t dress exactly like them, she should be fine. Grey, pinstripe slacks, a crisp white dress shirt, black waistcoat and gloves, and the white diamond coat she’d found…somewhere. Clean, together, but not busy. She wasn’t trying to put on a show; she just needed them to take her seriously.

“Right.” She straightened her cuffs one last time. “Off we go then.”

Ominis was already at the Slytherin table that morning in a smart grey suit, quietly munching on a piece of bacon.

“Are you sure about this?” she asked, prompting him to stand.

“Good morning to you too,” he said. She winced.

“Sorry, sorry, you can sit down. Good morning.” She sat down across from him. “You don’t have to do this.”

“I’m aware.”

“We just had that huge talk about how I f*cked up your life and you don’t trust me.”

He blinked at her, amused.

“I think we might have had different conversations,” he said. “I don’t trust you because I don’t know you. I do, however, like that you’re willing to hold yourself accountable. Anne liked that too.”

She paused, hand halfway to the jar of strawberry preserves.

“You told Anne.”

“I did.”

“What did you say?”

“I said Sebastian had started to drag you down that path but you were trying to find your way back. We’ve both decided that it was an effort worth supporting.” He gestured vaguely at her. “This trip to Gringotts is a step in that direction.”

“I see.” She put some preserves on a slice of toast and carefully took a bite. “Thank you. I’m sure you have other things you’d rather be doing.”

“Yes, I’m utterly devastated I won’t be able to hear Peeves sing ‘Henry the VIII I Am’ for the next twelve hours.”

She felt herself start to grin.

“You sound heartbroken,” she said.

“I may never recover.”

She glanced down at her plate. This felt more like their talks in the library. Maybe they really could repair…whatever this was. Maybe he really didn’t hate her.

“Eat,” he said. “I’d like to get there before it gets too busy.”

*

They entered Diagon Alley and he chuckled.

“What?” she asked.

“You walk differently in those shoes. More confident.”

“Do I?” She looked down at her clothes. “I suppose I do feel better in these. The uniforms are so…I’m grateful for the clothes I have. I am. I understand it could’ve been a lot worse. I just…”

“You hate them.”

“So much! I’m sorry. Does that make me sound completely awful?”

“Yes.” He grinned. “So much so that I say we stop by Madam Malkin’s after Gringotts.”

“Why?”

“Because you have money now. And you can buy your own uniforms.”

She must have taken too long to respond because he laughed outright.

“Miss Green, you don’t honestly think I wear Ministry-provided uniforms. I could buy and sell half of Diagon Alley with pocket change.”

She laughed, shaking her head.

“Aren’t you cheeky?” She knocked her shoulder against his. “Since when do you throw your money around?”

“Since I have to educate my friend on wearing something besides burlap–a sentence, mind, that I never thought I’d have to say.”

“If I could just get some socks that don’t feel like they’re made from horsehair, I’d be fine.”

“Merlin, you’re tragic sometimes.” He paused on the steps of Gringotts. “All right. Ready?”

She looked up at the large doors and impressive columns and took a breath.

“As I’ll ever be.”

“You’ll be fine. Just remember you are not here to grovel. It’s not personal. It’s just business.”

“Be as nice as they let me be.”

“Exactly. You can do this.”

Another breath then she nodded and he opened the door for her. Their shoes echoed on the polished floor, the room filled with the quiet sound of quills and papers. She supposed she hadn’t really seen the teller counters last time, what with the centuries-old vault and ensuing shootout. Now, she was able to take in the granite counters and shiny metal gates, each station with a smartly dressed goblin hard at work doing…whatever the only bank in Wizarding Britain did. There was a location in Hogsmeade, of course, but anything to do with accounts had to be done through the main building.

“Yes?”

She looked across the uncomfortably large hall to a podium set at the far end. An old goblin beckoned them forward.

“It’s all right,” Ominis said softly but even that felt too loud. She nodded and walked confidently up to the podium.

“Good morning,” she said. “I’d like to open an account, please.” Here went nothing. “My name is Aurelia Green.”

Everything stopped. She immediately felt the eyes of over a dozen goblins and the old male above her took off his glasses.

“Miss…Green.”

“Yes.” Honesty and loyalty. “I understand if my patronage is not particularly welcome. If that is the case, no hard feelings. We can go elsewhere.”

“There is no ‘elsewhere.’”

“I meant the local furniture shop for a bigger trunk.”

The old goblin gave a faint smirk.

“Come with me.” He climbed down and led them to a rather plush waiting room down the hall. “Madam Veth will be with you shortly.”

“Thank you, Mister…?”

“Nott.” He walked away.

“Well done,” Ominis said. “The first step is complete. I smell pastries. Would you like one? Give you something to do?”

“Trying to distract me?”

“Actually, if you said ‘yes,’ I was going to ask if you could get me some tea.”

Snorting, she went to the well-stocked bar against the far wall, fixed them both a cup of tea, and sat down with him on the sofa.

“Is it always so quiet?” she asked.

“Yes. They’re no-nonsense, straight to business.”

“How bad has it gotten? For them?”

He sighed.

“That bad,” she said.

“I will never say revolution is unnecessary. It’s just…when it fails…”

“It fails spectacularly.”

“Quite. I imagine legislation is being forced through the Wizengamot as we speak.”

Wrinkling her nose, she took a sip of her tea. Pleasant but non-descript. Ominis or Dahlia or Amit would probably be able to identify it but Aurelia just went over her questions again. She had no control of what laws the Ministry would or wouldn’t make or what wizarding kind might or might not do. All she could offer, really, was her behavior.

“You’re grinding your teeth,” Ominis said.

“Sorry.”

“Anxious?”

“Frustrated. I came to Hogwarts so I wouldn’t feel helpless anymore but it seems the problems have just gotten bigger.”

“I have trouble picturing any world where you’re helpless.”

“Liar.”

“Slytherin.”

She rolled her eyes.

“Ominis.”

“Yes?”

“May I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

“Are you afraid of me?”

He blinked a couple times.

“That’s an interesting question,” he said.

“Well. Just…the way you walk. At least at school. You make hardly any noise, even on those stone floors, and I was just wondering if that was because of…what you’d heard. Or what I’d told you.” She looked at him, twisting the cup in her hands. “Do you think I’m going to hurt you?”

He stared towards her for a long moment, breathing even, face uncomfortably blank.

“Amazing what one can learn from someone’s stride, isn’t it?” he asked. “Some are skittish, hesitant like little birds or squirrels, first years unsure where to sit or what staircase to take. Some charge through like dogs, oblivious to anything else. Mr. Weasley comes to mind on that one. Some are taught to announce their presence like parade horses, taking up all the space in the room. And some are cats that know it’s often better to remain unseen.”

He tilted his head.

“You’ve been a cat before,” he said. “Haven’t you?”

“I thought you said my footsteps were loud.”

“They are now, yes. Purposefully so, I think. Whether from a conscious decision to be seen or an order so as not to walk in on something, your steps now are louder. But no one can run with Sebastian Sallow that long and not know how to disappear.”

She looked down at her cup, watched the tea ripple.

“I’m sorry,” she said quietly. “I didn’t mean–I’m sorry I brought up bad memories.”

“Mmm.” Setting down his cup, he stood and she jumped to her feet just as a middle-aged female goblin in a tailored purple day dress entered the room.

“Thank you for waiting,” she said, coming forward to shake their hands. “I am the president of Gringotts, Veth. And on behalf of Gringotts and goblinkind, I would like to formally apologize for your previous experience. Rest assured, the staff has been thoroughly questioned and any Ranrok sympathizers have been removed.”

“I…” Aurelia swallowed. “Thank you, Madam Veth.”

“Mr. Nott says you wish to open an account with us.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

They all sat, Aurelia pulling out the contract Ominis helped her write.

“I don’t fault Gringotts for what happened,” she said. “I’m just unsure how to proceed from here.”

Veth nodded.

“Opening an account is fairly simple,” she said. “Vaults are arranged by size and tier of security. The larger and more secure the vault, the deeper it is. Of course, every vault is protected with seven layers of protective magic. Even our least expensive accounts are perfectly secure.

“Once you choose a vault, we record your name and wand signature and issue you a key. That key and your wand will be required every time you access your account.”

“Is there a monthly fee or a single fee upfront?”

“A single fee up front. Once your assets are in the vault, they are not touched by anyone but you, unless you give specific, notarized instructions.”

“Any further securities have their own prices, I’m sure,” Ominis said, posture straight but non-combative, voice clear and with a different tone than she was used to. Hmm. Must be his ‘child of a politician’ mask.

“They do,” Veth said. “And upgrades or downgrades can be made at any time.”

“I see.” Aurelia looked down at the contract. That covered most questions. Except the main one. God, she was going to get the tea pot thrown at her head. “You said Ranrok sympathizers have been removed.”

“Yes.” Veth’s eyes were sharp. Aurelia forced herself to meet them. Don’t talk down to her. Don’t sound patronizing. Don’t throw up.

“Ranrok got people killed,” she said carefully. “Human and goblin. But I…understand the desire for change. Am I in danger of retaliation?”

“No, absolutely not. I wouldn’t allow it. On our honor as goblins, you are safe here.”

Prickly. Getting pricklier. Ominis shifted, just enough to remind her he was there.

“Would you be willing to sign a contract with me to assure it? Terms we both agree on outside of whatever nonsense the Ministry decides to pass?”

“A contract?”

Aurelia held out the paper only for Veth to snatch it, nearly giving her a papercut. Aurelia waited, stomach twisting tighter. Ominis had…not laughed at her exactly but he’d definitely been amused by how gentle the terms really were. Essentially, they were codified promises of being as kind to them as they were to her–with viable consequences that affected each other’s business if either party failed. Amit and Mr. Oakes had both contributed in their ways, instructing her on goblin culture and what was and wasn’t considered ‘rude.’

‘You probably won’t see much at Gringotts itself,’ Mr. Oakes had written. ‘They deal with witches and wizards all day. Any reminder that those humans are dealing with someone not-human would bother them so goblins that work with the wizarding public are very, very good at mimicking wizarding customs and mannerisms. What you’re offering is less an expectation of behavior and more a gesture of understanding. It’s much like making the effort to speak another language when traveling abroad. You could sound absolutely terrible but they’ll appreciate that you’re not putting yourself Above.’

Veth’s raspy, uneven chuckle brought her back and Aurelia looked over to see her covering her face, leaning back in the chair as she chortled.

“Madam Veth?”

“By ore, child,” Veth managed. “Never, in all my years!”

“I…hope I didn’t offend…”

“Bah!” Veth conjured a second copy, which she showed Aurelia to prove it was identical, and pulled out a quill and inkpot. She signed both copies with a flourish. “How old are you?”

“Fifteen, ma’am.” Aurelia took the quill and signed under Veth’s name on both. “I’m trying not to be an asshole.”

Veth laughed again, eyes sparkling.

“We’ll have to keep an eye on you then,” she said. “You’re trouble.”

“I’ve…discovered that, yes.”

“Is Mr. Gaunt co-signing your account?”

“No, ma’am. I have…had…a liaison.” Aurelia gave her the rest of the packet from Mrs. Weasley. Madam Veth flipped through it, checking a couple spots for signatures, then nodded and snapped the folder shut.

“Are you ready to see vault options then?” she asked.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Good.” A clap of her hands summoned a set of miniature vaults with removable tops. “Let’s get started.”

*

“Oh my god…” Aurelia groaned when they got back onto the street, making Ominis laugh.

“You survived,” he said. “Cheers.”

“I thought she was going to skewer me!”

“Well, if you’d been less respectful, she probably would have. I applaud your humility.”

“I feel sick.”

“So you can go up against an army of goblins but social tension makes you nauseous?”

“I don’t like people.”

“That I can sympathize with.” He offered his arm, which she hesitantly took, and they headed to Madam Malkin’s. She balked a little when she realized.

“Oh,” she said. “You were serious.”

“Yes, I was. Students generally begin arriving the last couple weeks of August to buy their school supplies. They’ll have received their class lists by then. Madam Malkin’s, in particular, gets overrun by little first-years ordering robes. If we go now, you can get them fitted to you without all of that.”

“Mmm. I suppose if I lose or gain weight between now and then, I can fix them easily enough.”

Ominis muttered something like ‘tragic.’

“No,” he said. “You bring them here and they fix them.”

“But I can do it myself.”

“Yes, but that doesn’t mean that you have to.” He opened the door for her. “In.”

“Bossy.” She slipped past him into the shop anyway. Immediately, the familiar scents of fabric and starch made her sigh.

“Nostalgic?” he asked.

“Bittersweet.”

He nodded, not pressing.

“Good morning!” A middle-aged witch with neatly coiffed brown hair and a forest green dress of fine cotton bustled up to them. “Oh, Mr. Gaunt, how good to see you. And who is this?”

“Good morning, Madam Malkin,” Ominis said, back in Politician Voice. “This is a new friend of mine, Aurelia Green. Miss Green has, unfortunately, been forced to endure Ministry-provided uniforms this last year.”

“My heavens, child!” She looked aghast, reaching to clasp Aurelia’s hands. “We must get you taken care of, my dear. And do you have day clothes? You look very sharp today. Are you settled otherwise or do we need to fit you?”

“She’s building quite the wardrobe.” A new voice came from further in the shop and Aurelia turned to see Dahlia Greengrass step down from a five-way mirror in a lovely shade of lavender crepe. “But she is in dire need of proper undergarments.”

“Oh.” Aurelia felt her cheeks heat. “I was really just looking today. Mr. Gaunt was really just–”

“Mr. Gaunt is a boy.” Dahlia walked up to them, lowering her voice. “Or have you been comfortable moving in what you’ve been able to scrounge?”

“Dahlia,” Ominis said, polite yet…

“Go have a seat, Ominis,” Dahlia said. “I’ll take care of your friend. Madam Malkin, I’ll take this and the blush, if you please. I’ll join you and Miss Green in a moment.”

“Sounds perfect, Miss Greengrass.” Madam Malkin smiled, warm and motherly. “Come, my dear. We’ll get you sorted.”

“Oh, but…” Aurelia glanced back to where Ominis was sitting on a couch. “I-I don’t have–I don’t want to be any trouble, Madam Malkin. I really don’t even know what my budget is.”

“Whatever it is, we can work within it. That’s a particular specialty of mine. Pieces here can be made to be interchangeable so your wardrobe can cover more events. And, of course, good-quality fabric can last much longer. Take this skirt, for instance.” Madam Malkin picked a long, chocolate brown pencil skirt off a nearby rack. “Feel this. Soft yet sturdy, can be worn with a pretty blouse and jacket or even a bodice for visiting.”

Aurelia felt the wool, fine-spun, high-thread count, luxurious, and had to fight the ridiculous urge to cry.

“Oh, my dear.” Madam Malkin put a hand on her wrist. “Oh, I’ve pushed too hard.”

“No.” Aurelia smiled, blinking quickly. “No, I’m sorry. I…I worked at a tailor shop before Hogwarts. I couldn’t afford…” She swallowed around the lump in her throat. “But I own a shop in Hogsmeade now and I want a new beginning and the first step is the look, right?”

“Just so, my dear.” She squeezed Aurelia’s wrist and put back the skirt. “Come. Tell me what you have currently.”

Chapter 7

Chapter Text

Dahlia Greengrass was a force to be reckoned with. Prim and proper and gorgeous, she held herself with all the poise of a well-bred, well-educated young woman. And while never sounding ugly, she spoke with the air of someone used to being obeyed. Orders were given with a neutral tone and a lilt that softened any bossiness. Criticisms, of the clothes or Aurelia, were simply facts, not insults. Questions came quickly but she heard the answers instead of dismissing them. Masterful, really.

“Why are you helping me?” Aurelia managed to ask when Madam Malkin disappeared to find more shirts.

“You’re a friend of Ominis, are you not?” Dahlia held a swatch of blue cotton up to Aurelia’s neck. “Too powdery.”

“I’m trying to be.”

Dahlia paused.

“Why did you turn in Sebastian?” she asked.

sh*t.

“He killed a man.”

“If rumors are to be believed, you’ve killed many more than that. Or did they not count because you didn’t know them?”

“No, I…”

Dahlia met her eyes, gaze steady, while Aurelia’s mind raced to figure out her angle. If it was Natty or Poppy asking, it wouldn’t be a problem. They liked helping people so Aurelia could’ve just said that. But she’d dealt with people like Dahlia before–on a much smaller scale–and they never had just one reason for something. How much should she tell? Would it get back to someone bad? Was it safe? Was there a wrong answer?

Aurelia bit her lip. Honesty and loyalty.

“I feared for Anne,” she said at last. “I was afraid the next time she disagreed would be her last.”

Dahlia lifted her chin, searching, then held up the next swatch. Red flannel.

“Men don’t see it,” she said. “Wizard, muggle, rich, poor, it doesn’t matter. But we do. You’ve seen men like that before, haven’t you? Men like him. Men like Rookwood.”

Images she didn’t want to remember flashed through Aurelia’s mind and she clenched the fist furthest from Dahlia.

“Yes,” she said. “Yes, I have. I’m not sorry.”

Dahlia smirked.

“We’re never sorry, darling. We just have to look it.” She went to the next swatch of white satin, her nose wrinkling ever so slightly. “Too bright. Eggshell would be better. You have quite the reputation now.”

“Yes, I have.” Aurelia glanced at her reflection. “I’m not entirely sure it’s a good thing, especially with Him going on about…” She closed her mouth.

“So we go the other way. You’re not a murderer, you’re not a floozy, you’re not a dangerous, unstable monster–”

“Thanks.”

“You are an educated, upstanding young lady. Isn’t she, Madam Malkin?”

“Quite so, Miss Greengrass.” Madam Malkin walked up with an armful of dress shirts and blouses. “I have male and female options here, as you requested.”

“You’ll need to look feminine sometimes,” Dahlia said. “Sweet, harmless.” She touched Aurelia’s braid. “And we’ll need to do something about your hair.”

“What’s wrong with my hair?” Aurelia asked, grabbing the tail.

“Split ends. People make assumptions on appearance first.” She took a shirt from Madam Malkin and held it up. “Too many ruffles.”

Two hours passed in the blink of an eye. Aurelia tried on dozens of pieces, all different silhouettes and fabrics, but as annoyed as she was at the beginning, she actually caught herself having fun. She had to remember she had good money now and didn’t have to scrimp and save just to eat. She could do this. And didn’t she deserve it? After the year she’d had? She was the Hero of Hogwarts, for f*ck’s sake.

She deserved this. And she was going to enjoy it.

“Is Ominis all right?” she asked at one point.

“Ominis is fine,” he called. “Ominis brought a book.” Though she did hear what sounded like laughter from another male voice. Well, at least he wasn’t bored.

Thankfully, there were other employees so Aurelia didn’t have to feel guilty about hogging Madam Malkin. And, true to her word, the woman made sure every piece had multiple uses. Almost every piece. Dahlia put her foot down on at least one formal gown.

“I’d prefer you have multiple,” she said. “But Hogwarts is notorious for not publishing event schedules ahead of time so you’ll have to be gauche and wear the same gown twice.”

“How ever will I survive.”

The gown was really very pretty though, a rich, plum satin that made Aurelia feel like a queen. She might’ve choked up a little at that one. Or the thought of that one. A few things were available ready-to-wear but the gown and most of the rest were custom so she’d have to come back in a couple months.

“You’ll be all set for the new year, my dear,” Madam Malkin said. “Now comes the unpleasant part.” She held the receipt to her chest. “Before I show you this, you must remember that everything I make lasts for years if taken care of properly. You built the foundation of a wardrobe that will serve you through school and possibly longer.”

“Right. Yes.” Aurelia smiled at her and Dahlia. “Thank you. Thank you so much.” She took a breath. “All right. Show me the total.”

She did, itemized by piece, its fabric, and its labor. Aurelia’s breath caught at the sum. Three thousand galleons. A full fifth of the gold she had in her vault. f*ck.

“We can set up a payment plan, if that would work better for you.”

Her ears rang. She’d never spent that much on…anything. She’d never had that much money to begin with, much less been in a position where it wasn’t all of her survival money.

Then again, Penny could sell a dozen fancy coats and make up the sum in a week. Aurelia took a slow, steadying breath and smiled at Madam Malkin.

“No need,” she said. “Thank you so much for everything.”

She paid, after thanking Dahlia again and promising not to waste her generosity, grabbed Ominis, and fled.

“Oh my god.”

“You’re all right.” He gripped the back of her arm, either steering or holding her up–she wasn’t sure. “You’re all right.”

“Did you do that? Did you know she was going to be there?”

“I did not, I swear. I may have scolded the three of them for their behavior outside the Common Room but I didn’t know Dahlia would be here. All I asked was that she be kinder to you. I certainly didn’t expect…well. That.”

“Should I be worried? I don’t know if I trust this.”

He tilted his head, thinking.

“I think you’re fine. Certainly better that you paid for yourself instead of being in her debt financially. Though, if it makes you feel better, you could see it as her developing an asset. If you’re half as powerful as the rumors say, it’s really in her best interest to make friends, isn’t it?”

“Yes. I suppose.” She rubbed her face. “Yes, that does make me feel better. Thank you. I’m sorry it took so long.”

“Are you happy with what you got?”

She couldn’t help but smile.

“Very much.”

“Then I was happy to wait. Shall we get some lunch?”

“That would be wonderful.”

“You’re paying, right?”

She swung at his head and he ducked with a laugh.

“I smell a street cart,” he said. “Garreth said something about a pie cart we just ‘had’ to try when we got to London.”

“I thought you didn’t like Garreth.”

“I don’t. I worry for my health every Potions class but he does know food.”

They found the pie cart, full of delicious-smelling meat and fruit pocket pies, and Ominis bought them both two savory and two sweet pies.

“You didn’t have to do that,” she said.

“Oh, let me pretend I’m a gentleman.”

“You are a gentleman.” She knocked her shoulder against his. “I owe you for today. Thank you.”

“Well, it wouldn’t be very Slytherin of me to dismiss a favor like that so do as you like.”

They shared a grin, finding a fountain to sit on as they ate, and Aurelia tried to wrap her head around the day. So strange. She felt…adult? Mature? Which was ridiculous. She’d had to be an adult for years now, had just spear-headed the defense of Hogwarts, and put down a magically-charged rebel leader. She was an adult by almost any definition already. Still, this was…nice.

“I’m not afraid of you,” he said. “I was at first. The idea that someone could talk so sweetly and cast such a thing reminded me of…well. Too many things. But I also heard you throw up once we were out of sight.”

She took a careful bite of her pie.

“It felt gross,” she said. “Like wearing someone else’s sweaty clothes. But it also got us out of there.” She looked down at her pie, watching the steam rise from the meat. “I can’t afford to be afraid of the dark. I know what’s in it.”

“Mmm.” He took a thoughtful bite of his pie. “That much, Miss Green, I can respect and I’m both interested and invested in seeing what you’ll become.”

“Hence Gringotts?”

“Hence Gringotts.”

“Oh, good afternoon, mademoiselles!” a barker called. “Care to try our new lilac and gooseberry perfume?”

Across the street, a couple of witches stopped at a perfume cart, oohing and aahing over the pretty bottles. As Aurelia watched, the two women sniffed a perfume dropper, stuck their nose in a dish of some kind, then sniffed another. She couldn’t tell what the dish was from here but maybe there was a charm on it?

“Ominis?”

“Mmm?”

“You said you couldn’t breathe in Potions. Is it the heat or the smells?”

“The smells.” He made a face as he peeled the paper down on his pie. “It’s just so overwhelming in there and the heat and steam don’t help. Professor Ronen suggested a bubblehead charm but I still need to smell the ingredients to function so that doesn’t work.”

“Mmm.”

“Why?”

“I might have an idea.” She set down her pie, wiping off her hands, and headed over to the stall just as the women were wrapping up.

“Ah, good afternoon,” the owner, a thin man with a pencil moustache, smiled. “How may I help the mademoiselle?”

“Good afternoon. How does this work? I noticed you gave the ladies a dish between samples?”

“Oh, that?” He waved his hand. “Coffee beans. It clears the nasal passages so one doesn’t mix scents during sampling. Speaking of sampling, would the lady like to try our newest scent from Paris?”

“No, thank you. I just spent my budget at Madam Malkin’s, I’m afraid. Coffee beans. That’s brilliant. My friend is blind, you see, and it’s hard enough to focus with Garreth trying his new concoctions without being overwhelmed by everything else.”

The man’s smile dropped.

“Garreth,” he said. “Garreth Weasley.”

“Yes, that’s the one.”

He immediately disappeared behind the cart, rummaging, then came up with an entire tin can of coffee beans.

“Take them,” he said. “Use it with the bubblehead charm. Have him cast without completing the full bowl. Leave a space at his throat. That should protect against the rest of the scents while he checks his ingredients.”

“Oh, that’s so generous. What do I owe you?”

He waved his hand again, this time sharp.

“Not necessary, mademoiselle. Give my regards to your friend.”

“Why, thank you. Thank you very much.” She took the can and, out of guilt, bought a small bag of jasmine sachets for her trunk. “Have a good day.”

“What was that about?” Ominis asked when she got back.

“Coffee beans.”

“Pardon?”

“That perfume cart over there has customers smell coffee beans in between sampling scents. He says it clears the smell out of your nose so it doesn’t mix. What if you used these with the bubblehead charm? He said you could modify it to leave a space at your throat. Would it work then?”

“I…perhaps.” He took the can, sniffling lightly. “But it’s a moot point now. We’ve already taken the O.W.Ls.”

“Oh.” She took a bite of her pie. “Could you take them again? You didn’t have all the tools last time. Could they make an exception because you’re blind?”

“I doubt it.”

She frowned.

“Our first meeting, you said you could have me expelled with one letter to your father. Are you saying that Ominis Gaunt, son of the House of Gaunt, Prince of Slytherin, can’t pull a few strings to take a measly test?”

Ominis blinked then laughed and shook his head.

“I’ll think about it.”

“All right. Where would you like to go now?”

“I have a book order to pick up then after that, I’m done.”

“All right. Bookstore it is.”

*

Leaves crunched under her boots as she climbed up the hill. It was well into summer but the trees in the Forbidden Forest were so close, some debris always covered the floor. The scent of earth and grass filled her mouth, wet but not unpleasant.

“Ah. There we are.” She found the rock where she and Poppy first encountered the centaur herd, the earth littered with recent hoofprints. It was a long shot, perhaps a complete miss, but she might close off a lead if nothing else.

Now to wait. She climbed onto the rock and took out her weaving book. The process of making fabric was the same for wizards and muggles; it was just the approaches and materials that changed. Maybe she could try her hand at making new fabric for herself sometime. She’d been wanting some new scarves anyway.

A good few hours passed before she heard anything, long enough for her to get hungry and snack on some of the trail meat she’d brought. The thunder of centaurs was unmistakable though, even when they were meandering.

Or it might have been the creak of a bow. She looked up to see four centaurs, three male and one female, surrounding the rock with weapons drawn.

“Hello,” she said. “I’d like to speak to Dorran, if that’s possible.”

“Why?”

“I have questions about that mess Ranrok got into. I’m trying to clean it up.”

“Why should we trust you?”

She shrugged.

“You can keep an arrow on me, if you like.”

They all looked at each other then one of the males nodded and another, smaller male disappeared into the woods.

“Thank you,” Aurelia said. The centaurs didn’t respond, didn’t move, so she just went back to her book.

“What is the matter with you?” Dorran’s voice cut through the tension. “That’s one of the young ones that fought the poachers. Lower your bow.”

“But–”

“I said lower it.” Dorran shoved through the circle. “I’ll handle this. You go on ahead.”

The males left, grumbling, but the female stayed, a stubborn set to her jaw that almost made Aurelia smile. Dorran just sighed.

“Fine,” he said. “Hello, child.”

“Hello, Dorran. Thank you for coming to speak with me. I hope you’ve been well?”

“Better now. What did you want to talk about?”

She closed her book.

“That reddish-black magic the goblins were using,” she said. “I discovered it was from a series of magical experiments done by Isidora Morganach–”

He made a harsh noise, just this side of a growl, and one hoof cut into the dirt.

“I know the name,” he said. “She attacked my people as well. Claimed she was ‘helping’ them but she scraped them clean, ripped out their souls.”

“Yes.” Her heart sank. Damn. “Yes, she did that to many. She kept all that pain in repositories of goblin metal. Ranrok found them and used all but one. The last is still intact but I’m trying to get rid of it. The problem is I’m not sure exactly how. Is it like a bucket of mud that one can just dump in the river and it washes away? Would things go back to normal eventually if it was just…released?”

“Mmm. You’ve seen the magic?”

“I have.” She wrinkled her nose. “It’s…congealed, almost. Like old blood. Condensed.”

“That was our feeling as well. No, child, I do not believe it is a bucket of mud. More like a corpse in a well, poison that would not heal for a very long time.”

“Oh.” She sighed. “I was afraid of that. So opening the repository isn’t an option. The magic must be destroyed.”

“Or stringently guarded.” He narrowed his eyes. “Where is this last repository?”

“I’m afraid I’ve made a promise to keep that secret.” She scooted off the rock, making sure to keep her hands visible to the female. “Thank you for your time, Dorran. Have a good night.”

“And you, child. May the stars light your path.”

She bowed to him and after walking a good distance away, mounted her broom and flew back to the castle.

Well. sh*t. A body in a well. On its own, yes, the water would eventually correct itself but it would cause a lot of sickness in the meantime. And there was so much pain in that stupid ball. She had no idea how much or how little those goblins and trolls took, what amount they needed in order to fight like that. A few drops could’ve made the dragon go mad. An entire repository…Hell, she could still remember the oppressive weight in that cavern, gross and slimy and strangely hot despite the chill down her spine–and that was with it contained.
Maybe a volcano? But she’d still have to move it and there was no way she could keep the damn thing a secret while also trying to smuggle it onto a ship.

Destruction then or a smaller way to contain it. Leaving it beneath Hogwarts wasn’t an option. In two years, she would graduate and there was no one she could trust with it. Clearly the security wasn’t that great if an untrained fifteen-year-old and a goblin working from old diaries could crack it.

Maybe Professor Weasley could help in a roundabout way. She didn’t know everything but she might know enough to steer her in the right direction. Aurelia still wasn’t sure what magic was capable of; maybe there was a branch she hadn’t thought of yet or an application they hadn’t considered. If nothing else, Aurelia could close another lead like she did tonight.

She sighed. Progress was progress. Right?

Chapter 8

Chapter Text

“There you are.” Ominis sat next to her at the Hufflepuff table for dinner. “I heard something very interesting this afternoon.”

“Was it that you were going to pass me the lamb stew because I’m ready to eat half the table?”

“Oh, do calm down.” He drew the bowl of stew closer and handed her the basket of rolls. “I spoke to Professor Sharp. He thinks it’s worth contacting the Ministry. He and Professor Weasley are writing the Board.”

“Ominis, that’s wonderful!” She squeezed his arm. “Well done. I’m so proud of you.”

“Thank you. That wasn’t what I wanted to tell you.” He filled first her bowl then his and started ripping a roll into pieces. “Professor Black is resigning next week.”

She choked.

“What?!”

“This is the worst thing to happen in Hogwarts history and he was in charge. Resignation is the only thing he can do.”

“Who will be Headmaster then?”

“Professor Weasley will step in, I think. After that, the Ministry and the Board of Education will have to vote but that won’t happen until the next session starts. Whoever they pick will most likely not start until the year after, so our seventh year.”

“Huh.” She took a bite of her stew. Ominis snorted.

“Don’t hold yourself back on my account.”

“I am so f*cking happy right now.”

He laughed around his own bite.

“And you only dealt with him, what, eight months? I’ve dealt with him for years.”

“He wasn’t an arse to you, surely.”

“No, he alternated between fawning sycophant and arrogant older cousin with wisdom to pass on.”

“Did you ever wish you were deaf instead?”

His lips twitched into a very Him smirk.

“I once pretended to trip down the stairs so he’d leave. Worked like a charm.”

“He didn’t even help you up?!”

“No, he was suddenly urgently needed elsewhere.”

She laughed, shaking her head.

“God.”

“Mm-hmm. Still anxious about Dahlia?”

“You’re enjoying this.”

“Very much, yes.”

She rolled her eyes.

“Eat your stew.”

*

July. Aurelia sat on the floor outside Professor Sharp’s classroom, Ominis and the proctor inside, and tried to focus on her homework. She’d made serious strides over the last year and the practicals were fine in almost all subjects. The problem was the terminology. Any given class, she had a dictionary next to her, going back and forth between the textbook and whatever the f*ck a ‘grindylow’ was and why they needed to be ‘bandersnatched.’ Oftentimes, she needed to look up words in the definitions too.

Still, she was doing it and with the quiet of the empty castle, she was actually able to untangle the information. And speaking of tangles, she was making some headway on what she’d dubbed her Fiber Theory. Everywhere she went, she let her vision slide into the Sight, watching townspeople work and go about their daily lives, using magic as naturally as she brushed her hair. Envy twinged a bit; it would’ve been nice if she’d had that as a child but whatever. She was here now and she could take notes on the different shades as people cast.

Hmm. Maybe a book on color theory? There were art classes here. Maybe she could take a painting or sketching class. One of the upperclassmen in Hufflepuff mentioned having an elective. An easy elective as the last few years were murder. And she wasn’t…terrible at art. Better at clothes but she could practice over the summer. Actually, sketching in the Highlands with a picnic sounded lovely.
She made a note in her planner to go to Hogsmeade sometime that week, pick up a sketchbook and some pencils, maybe some charcoal. People drew with charcoal, didn’t they?

The Potions door heaved open and she quickly got to her feet.

“Oh.” The proctor blinked at her. “If you’re here to take the Potions O.W.L–”

“No,” she said. “Just waiting for Mr. Gaunt.”

“I see.” He left, neck almost broken from looking down his nose so hard, and Ominis and Professor Sharp came out.

“How’d it go?” She took a chocolate bar out of her bag. “Here. In case you need the sugar.”

“Thank you.” Ominis looked frazzled, worn, but took the chocolate and broke off a large hunk.

“He did well,” Professor Sharp said. Aurelia tried a smile at him but when he didn’t return it, she just stepped back with a nod. Things had been…Well, she’d avoided him since their discussion earlier in the summer. No real reason to talk to him when she didn’t see him every day. Maybe she’d keep avoiding him for a bit. Professional distance.

“This will delay your results, Mr. Gaunt,” Professor Sharp said. “You likely won’t get your O.W.L scores until after school has started but Professor Weasley can still help you pick your classes.”

“Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.”

The man nodded and walked away, leaving Ominis to break off another piece of chocolate.

“Was it better?” she asked.

“Yes, it was worlds better. The proctor had to examine the can of coffee beans, of course, but I feel much better about this test.”

“Good. Would you like to get lunch?”

“I…” He sighed. “I would like a nap. But I’ll meet you for dinner.”

“Of course. Have a good nap then.”

Nodding, he shuffled away and she set about gathering her things. God, her legs were stiff, her back hurt, and she was pretty sure her tailbone was asleep from sitting on the stone for so long. But it was fine. Ominis did well and she could breathe again.

The next morning, they had breakfast at the Slytherin table.

“Good morning, Miss Green,” Professor Weasley said, walking up. Ominis stood up. “Mr. Gaunt. Congratulations on your Potions performance.”

“Thank you, Professor,” Ominis said. She smiled then turned to Aurelia.

“Your O.W.L results have arrived,” she said. “You should be–Ah, yes.”

Two owls flew into the Great Hall, one flying past to the staff table, one dropping a thick envelope nearly into Aurelia’s waffles. She caught it before it got syrup on it and ripped it open.

“What does it say?” Ominis asked. “How did you do?”

“‘Exceeds Expectations’ in Astronomy, Herbology, History of Magic, and Divination? Goodness, I was sure I botched that. ‘Outstanding’ in Transfiguration, Charms, Potions, Defence Against the Dark Arts, and Care of Magical Creatures.” She looked back and forth between them, a smile so wide it hurt her cheeks. “I did it! I didn’t fail!”

Ominis clapped for her, nodding as if he expected it, and Professor Weasley smiled warmly.

“You most certainly did not fail,” she said. “You have gone above and beyond and we are most impressed. At your earliest convenience, I should like to speak with you about your course schedule for the next year.”

“Yes! Yes, of course. Do you have time after breakfast?”

“I do indeed. Shall we say, an hour? Make it nine o'clock in my office?”

“Nine ‘o clock. Thank you, Professor.”

“You are most welcome, dear.” She walked away and Aurelia sagged into the table.

“Well done!” Ominis squeezed her shoulder as he sat down. “Very well done indeed. If you hadn’t gotten an ‘O’ in Defense, I would’ve had to throw a skillet at you myself.”

“And you’d be entirely justified.” She sat up, staring at the letter. The rest of the package had information on possible courses and what that meant for career options. “I did it. God, I could cry.”

“Well, cry quickly or you’ll be a mess for your meeting with the Headmistress.”

She laughed and got back to her waffles.

*

“Now, with five ‘O’s,” Professor Weasley said. “And four ‘EE’s, you have a wide range of options available. Are there any careers you were thinking about? We can work backwards from there on what classes you’ll need.”

“Honestly, I hadn’t really thought past next year.” Aurelia folded her hands in her lap. “The idea of future anything was a bit…foggy…for a while.”

“I imagine it was. Well, is there anything you’ve always wanted to do? Anywhere you’ve wanted to go?”

“Go…” She let her mind drift. “When I was a child, I always wanted to travel and I heard about the libraries at Universities and wanted to go there. But I never thought I could afford it so I kind of…gave up on that.”

Professor Weasley nodded.

“More doors are opened to you now than there were. There are several jobs in the Ministry that offer collegiate programs where they pay for your degree after you’ve worked there for a certain amount of time. And there are many trades that offer apprenticeships, some of which include travel and higher training.”

Trades. Aurelia chewed on her tongue for a moment.

“I have a shop in Hogsmeade, long story, but I’d like to get a business degree of some kind so Penny doesn’t have to do all the work. I’ll also have a steady, reliable source of income regardless of if I try anything else.”

“Very practical.” Professor Weasley looked down at the papers spread across her desk. “In that case, the Beast division in the Ministry’s Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures is an option. I believe Miss Sweeting will probably go that route. The Department of International Magical Cooperation has a Trading Standards division. They would definitely support a business degree. Let’s see…”

“What about auror work? I heard some of the others talking about that.”

The older woman hesitated for a second before slowly nodding.

“Yes,” she said. “Auror work is a possibility.”

“You don’t sound optimistic.”

“No, Miss Green. It’s just…very dangerous. It would be your job to fight and investigate Dark Wizards and other criminals.”

“I’d be trained?”

“Yes.” Professor Weasley took out a sheet from under a stack. “The Auror Program in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement is one of the strictest, most highly competitive programs in the Ministry. Applicants must have a minimum of five ‘O’s on your N.E.W.Ts, which you will take at the end of seventh year, pass rigorous physical and psychological evaluations, a background check, and then, if you are accepted, you will go through a three-year training program. Paid, of course.”

“Three years…” Aurelia’s head swam at the possibilities. Yes, it would be more danger and stress but she’d be prepared. She’d have tools and backup and education. She wouldn’t just have to fumble through awful situations and hope she made the right call.

And she’d be better able to defend the repository and whatever she was going to do with that.

Right, she was going to ask Professor Weasley.

She cleared her throat, shifting in the chair.

“You said the Auror Program offers a collegiate option?”

“They do. Three years of training, three years of service–during which if you quit, you must pay back the Ministry for the training–and after all of that, you would be eligible to apply for a two or four year university course.”

Well, that settled that.

“I’d like to be an auror,” she said with a nod. “And if that doesn’t work, I’ll still have my shop.”

“Miss Green.” Professor Weasley folded her hands on the desk and gave her a long, steady look. “Please, do not feel obligated or that you are only qualified to take this route because of last year. You are a bright, driven, talented student. You could do anything you want.”

“I appreciate that, Professor. And I still intend to travel and learn. Ten years with the aurors, I’ll be twenty-seven, twenty-eight. That still leaves plenty of time to find a new career and I’m sure it’ll look good to have ‘auror’ on my record.”

Professor Weasley pursed her lips but, ultimately, nodded.

“All right. In that case, Defense Against the Dark Arts is a must. Potions, Charms, Transfiguration, and Herbology are also highly recommended.”

Mmm. She wasn’t sure she could sit through another class of plants that fit better in a Jules Verne novel.

“I actually had a question about that. Well. Not about that but…” She glanced at the door.

“We have privacy,” Professor Weasley said.

“All right.” Aurelia licked her lips. “What did Professor Fig tell you? Did he say why Ranrok was attacking?”

“He…said there was material buried under the castle. Ranrok thought it could help with the Rebellion, I think to make weapons.” She peered over her glasses. “But I suspect there’s more to the story.”

“More than I’m permitted to discuss, ma’am. The material, though, is still there. And though Niamh Fitzgerald and a few others made me promise not to use or destroy it, just containing it and leaving it feels…reckless. Unfortunately, releasing the material would poison the surrounding area and I don’t know how long it would take to dissipate. Is there a type of magic or a technique for converting material into something else? Not transfiguration; I don’t think that would change the substance itself. Is there another way to make it harmless?”

“Ah. You’re speaking of alchemy. It’s a tricky subject, one not always offered depending on interest, but it’s commonly described as the bridge between the physical and metaphysical worlds. Science and magic combined.”

“That sounds perfect.”

“It can be highly volatile. I’m glad you want to study options before trying them but there is a process for these things, safety procedures. I must say, I’d feel much better if you’d let me report this to the Ministry. There are professionals in that field that are specially trained for such situations.”

Aurelia rubbed her lips together.

“Is this the same Ministry that covered up everything because it made them look bad and wouldn’t give Officer Singer support even though Rookwood practically owned Scotland?”

The older woman’s face pinched.

“You make an uncomfortably valid point,” she said. “As an instructor responsible for your safety, you understand how much I dislike this.”

“I assure you, Professor, you do not dislike it more than I.” In fact, when she was through being sad about Professor Fig’s death, Aurelia planned on having words with his tombstone. Who just went and explored unidentified ruins with a child in tow? “I understand if you don’t trust me yet. This will take a lot of work and research and probably different kinds of spells but I will not knowingly put the school in danger again.”

“Or yourself.”

“I can’t promise that. You know I can’t. I can only promise to be smarter.”

Professor Weasley sighed.

“Professors Hecat and Sharp went with me to try and investigate the last chamber,” she said. “What we found was something wholly…alien. None of our magic worked. So. As much as I hate this, I am not so proud to admit we are out of our depth. To that end, we shall endeavor to give you as much education as possible. Would you like to take Alchemy along with those other subjects or instead of one of them?”

“I think I’d like to take Defense, Transfiguration, Charms, Potions, Alchemy, and Art.”

“Art?”

“Yes. I’d like to try something new that’s not quite as heavy.”

“Very well. Let’s get you signed up then.”

*

August. Her homework was done, Penny felt Aurelia was in a good place business-wise, and she’d filled up a sketchbook with not-awful drawings. An exhausting amount of trees but not awful. All that was really left on her list was the code of conduct.

“So,” Ominis said. “We’ve gone over different cultures and social mores.”

“Lot of winners there,” Aurelia said.

“We’ve covered philosophy.”

“Where’s my naked chicken?”

“Had him for dinner, darling. Do you feel better about how to think of all this?”

“I do. But I feel like it’s not quite…I feel like it’s deeper than this.”

“Very much so. That’s why any proper legal document is so dense. They have to cover all possible angles. So. Ready to start writing?”

“Guess we’ll see.”

They’d been meeting Tuesday and Thursday mornings in the library, both reading and coming up with new ideas and questions in between. Aurelia didn’t expect to get so riled up over tea but she also didn’t expect to have such strong opinions on battles thousands of years ago. And Ominis had very clearly had a speech tutor; he talked her in circles regularly, twisting her about until she was arguing his point for him.

It was fun and enlightening and horrible. They disagreed, sometimes on small things, sometimes on big, and even when they agreed, they didn’t just move to the next question. They dug in, clarifying topics she never thought to think about like the ethics of King Solomon and the baby and what conditions would have to be met for both mothers to be right.

Wording the rules themselves caused conflict too, his experience and her anxiety clashing over tone and loopholes. And yet, even with the frustration, she felt strong and smart. She felt grown. Even when they talked about something upsetting. Even when an ugly, hateful thought fell out that she’d sworn to keep in her head. The old church deacons would’ve beaten her if they’d heard her talk about children like that.

But Ominis didn’t run. After everything she’d told him, everything they talked about, he stayed and helped her figure out what was Good and Bad. Or, more accurately, ‘acceptable’ and ‘unacceptable.’

“Aurelia…”

She growled, curled up on the floor behind the chair with her hands in her hair. It had been a rough session.

“I’m still here,” she said. “You’re kind of an ass, aren’t you?”

He chuckled and moved to sit on the floor across from her.

“I don’t much like myself right now either,” he said. “Shame we’re not taking Divination anymore. We’d ace the introspection paper.”

“Oh, have you ‘turned inward’ too?”

“I’ve been turning inward since before you came to this school. Sebastian, Anne, and I would get into discussions like this. They’d always end in a fight though, somebody ‘taking a tone’ with someone else, someone getting upset, someone getting worried and someone else getting offended. It was…a lot.”

“You miss it.”

“I do. So much.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I know. I am too. If I’d been stronger, if I’d been braver…” He sighed. “What were we talking about?”

“Dark Wizards.”

“Ah. Yes. And that you are, technically, a Dark Witch now.”

“Yes.”

“But you’re different.”

“No.” And wasn’t that annoying. “I just get angry about different things.”

“Mmm. You said you attacked them first.”

“Yes.”

“And you killed them.”

“Yes.”

“Why didn’t you take them to Officer Singer? She was severely overwhelmed and I understand being frustrated but you speak as if death was the only option.”

“It was the safest option.”

He raised an eyebrow.

“That’s a dangerous view to have.”

She nodded.

“I’m a girl,” she said. “I know what men do to girls that are by themselves.” She squeezed her eyes shut and turned away, trying to breathe through the glass in her throat. “That’s why I fell in with Him so quickly. I understood His frustration. I understood feeling that helpless.” She licked her lips. “I might have some anger issues still.”

“So long as you don’t bleed on people that don’t deserve it.”

“Well, that’s why we’re doing this, isn’t it? Figuring out who does deserve it?” She rubbed her face. “How do you feel about all this?”

“I…” He leaned back on his hands. “Evil corrupts. We’ve seen how easy it is to justify horrible things. It’s not how they do it. It’s not the methods. It’s the power. Power attracts very specific types of personalities and, more often than not, those personalities use it for selfish reasons.”

“And those that want to use power for good aren’t willing to do the awful things to gain and keep enough power to make a difference.”

“Most people. You could make a difference.”

“Not on a large scale. That’s way more than I want to deal with.”

“Small scale is fine. Just one person is fine.”

“Is it though?” She looked at him. “They just unloaded this on me. I’m only sixteen. What am I supposed to do with all this? What am I…what do they expect?”

“Can’t you ask them?”

“No. I went to the–they were gone. Warned me about one application from one woman then f*cked off.”

“So it’s up to you to decide.”

“Yes.” She climbed to her feet and stretched, her back popping in three or four places. “Which is why we’re in here every couple days, arguing about the ethical implications of spanakopita.”

“It’s a sandwich. Therefore, it must abide by sandwich protocol and be wrapped in newsprint.”

“Newsprint gets ink on my hands.” She helped him up. “I got a letter this morning that my order is ready.”

“Wonderful. It’s just about time to shop for our school supplies. Give me a couple days to submit the pass request. We should be able to go next week.”

“Thank you. I’m going to go for a fly.”

“All right. And Aurelia?”

“Hmm?”

“What happened to you. It wasn’t your fault. You know that, right?”

Aurelia gave a sad smile.

“You weren’t there.”

“No, I wasn’t. But neither were you. Not the you that you are now. The little girl is not to blame.”

Hmm. That…helped.

“I’ll catch you at dinner.”

Chapter 9

Chapter Text

“I figured it out!” Aurelia burst into the Great Hall, coat flapping on her arm. “I figured it out! Ominis!”

“Yes, darling,” he drawled from the Hufflepuff table. “I’m right here.”

“Ha!” She ran over to him, shoving him back down when he tried to stand. “f*ck manners; this is important. I figured out how I can get more stock for the shop! Dahlia said something about how gauche and tacky it was wearing a dress more than once to a public event so that means Purebloods and society people probably have loads of clothes they don’t wear anymore. What happens to them when they’re done? Charities?”

Ominis nodded.

“Usually,” he said. “Auctions, events. It’s usually a show.”

“Right, a way for them to make a scene. But that’s the really rich that have clothes that cost a year’s wages. Plenty of other families have castoffs and the hand-me-downs that usually go to other families, younger children, church members, what have you. What if they gave them to me instead? I take them off their hands, alter them a bit, update them, and then they get a percentage of the profits. Say, twenty-five percent? Is that fair?”

She blinked, saw Professor Weasley sitting down at the staff table.

“Professor!” She ran up to them. “Good morning, hi, I’m sorry. I had an idea.”

Professor Weasley and Professor Garlick both laughed. Oh. Professor Garlick was back. When did she arrive?

“Good morning, little flower,” Professor Garlick said.

“Good morning, Miss Green,” Professor Weasley said. “What’s your idea?”

Aurelia took a breath, trying to explain with a little less rambling and a little more aplomb. It didn’t quite work but she got the point across.

“That’s not a terrible idea,” Professor Weasley said. “Certainly worth a try, anyway. How about this? Write a draft of your request and if it’s appropriate, we’ll post it in the Common Rooms at the beginning of the year.”

“Yes!” Aurelia punched the air. “I mean, thank you, ma’am. Thank you so much. Ominis!”

“Yes, I heard,” he called. “Come eat so we can beat the crowds.”

“Right.” She nodded quickly to the professors then ran back to the table.

Madam Malkin loved the idea once they got to town, especially as the shop was in Hogsmeade and not London. Between her shop and Gladrags, new clothes were covered. A consignment shop though, had its merits.

Of course, Madam Malkin’s was thoroughly swamped with students–Diagon Alley was a completely different landscape now–so she told Aurelia to owl her next week. They’d figure out a good flyer and marketing strategy and get her squared away so she didn’t have to worry come classes.

Then came actually picking up her order. Aurelia didn’t have the time or energy to try on everything so she just took the new trunk Madam Malkin threw in for free because of her ticket price, shrank it all down, and put it in her bag.

“Until next time, ma’am. Ominis?”

He stepped up next to her.

“Ready to go?” she asked. He nodded and headed for the door.

sh*t, she’d messed up somehow. Throwing back another thanks, she hurried after him, catching him as he plunged through a particularly large group of younger kids.

“I’m sorry I took so long,” she said. “Thank you for waiting.”

“It’s fine.”

She winced.

“Ominis.” She touched his elbow. “Are you all right?”

His steps slowed to a stop and he bowed his head. She leaned closer.

“He’s been sentenced,” he said quietly. “Two years.”

“Oh. sh*t.” And she’d just been bulldozing him all morning. “What happens after?”

“Well, he’s still a minor–barely–so his record will be sealed and he’ll be allowed to take the W.O.M.B.A.Ts, the placement tests for people who don’t finish or didn’t go to a formal Wizarding school. Really, it’s the best possible outcome. I just…”

“Right.” sh*t sh*t sh*t sh*t. “Ice cream! We’re going to get ice cream.”

“It’s eleven in the morning.”

“Lunch.”

“Ice cream is not lunch!”

“Watch me!”

“Really?!”

She burst out laughing, squeezing his arm in apology, and dragged him to the ice-cream parlor. They’d just opened and had all of one other person so Aurelia ordered two of the most coma-inducing sundaes possible and claimed a table in the corner.

“My god, these are heavy,” she said.

“Can’t imagine why. You only bought half the counter.”

“I see you ordering multiple helpings at dinner. Don’t pretend you’re suddenly health-conscious.”

“Not all of us keep our girlish figure by chasing down graphorns.”

“I never chased the Lord of the Tides.”

He lowered his spoon a tick.

“You don’t actually call him that,” he said.

“The locals call him that. I was informed if I didn’t, he’d get mad at me. And I’m pretty sure if he got mad at me, he’d win.”

“Oh, now you have some self-preservation.”

“It’s a wee sapling of a thought.”

“Oh, god.” He covered his mouth on a choke. “Don’t ever do that again.”

“What?” She leaned hard into the Scottish accent. “Got something against the burr, Mr. Gaunt? For shame.”

“That’s so bad,” he laughed. “That’s almost offensive.”

“Morally?”

“Morally, ethically, religiously. We should take you to a priest.”

“I wonder if I can cross the threshold anymore…”

He snickered into his ice cream, which she felt very proud of, and they finished their treats without issue.

The issue came when they got to Flourish and Blotts and all the people milling around like ants. Ominis sighed.

“This,” he said. “This is why I didn’t want to do ice cream. We left school early to avoid this and between the ice cream and Madam Malkin’s, we’re going to have to stand in line for hours for books I don’t even know if I’ll need because–” His teeth clacked shut, the muscle in his neck tight. “I’ll stay out here.”

“But…”

“It’s fine.” He looked away. “I need some air. Go get your books. I’ll pick up my order later.”

Caught between wanting to punch him and profusely apologize, Aurelia bit her tongue and headed into the shop. Smell-wise, she could definitely understand the repulsion and the heat had gotten truly stifling in some of the smaller aisles. sh*t.

Well. Nothing for it but to do it so she took out her list and started hunting.

“Good afternoon, ma’am,” one of the employees, a younger man with curly black hair and a tweed vest. “Hogwarts? What year?”

“Sixth.”

“Up the stairs to the left, just past the display of the jabborwock. Good afternoon, sir. Hogwarts? What year?”

It took a few minutes to even find the stairs but once she got to the next floor, she breathed a sigh of relief. Busy but a bit less chaotic. And what a wonderful thing to be able to buy new books. Last year had been secondhand, both times, and that was if she got books at all. In Divination, she shared Natty’s the whole time, which was kind of Natty but not something Aurelia wanted to repeat.

No time to smell the pages right now though. She got her stack of obscenely large books and headed to the upstairs register on the other side.

“Aurelia!” Poppy burst out of the crowd, pouncing in a tight hug. “So good to see you! How’s your summer been?”

“Good, good. And yours? How are you?”

“I’m doing well, thank you. Grandmother and I have been talking about maybe opening a sanctuary.” She bounced up and down, eyes dancing. “Can you imagine? Me? At a beast sanctuary?”

“I couldn’t think of anyone better.”

Poppy beamed.

“Oh! And you haven’t met my grandmother, have you? Grandmother!”

“Yes, yes, I’m right here.” A petite old woman in powder blue robes toddled up. “Oh! This must be your adventurous friend.” She pulled Aurelia into a hug, just as strong as her granddaughter. Aurelia had to brace her books with her knee. “So good to meet you! I’m Blanche Sweeting. Thank you so much for looking out for my Poppy.”

“I assure you, ma’am,” Aurelia said. “Poppy looked out for me just as much. She’s got a heart big enough for the whole world.”

“She does at that, doesn’t she?” Mrs. Sweeting smiled proudly at Poppy. “When she’s not running off with half-co*cked ideas and no plan. Honestly, child–”

“Oh, it’s my turn in line.” Aurelia took a step forward. “So wonderful to meet you, ma’am. Good to see you, Poppy.”

“You too,” Poppy said. “See you at school!”

They scurried off, chattering back and forth so fast Aurelia wasn’t sure if they were talking to each other or themselves, and she gratefully put her books on the counter.

“Good morning,” she told the clerk. “And do you have an order for a Mr. Ominis Gaunt?”

“Yes, ma’am.” The clerk, in a tartan vest this time, got a cloth bag from the counter behind him. “It’s paid for so just these books then?”

“Yes, please.” She paid, charmed the bags for weight, and left. Once outside, she shrank hers to put in her own bag. Magic really was amazing.

“Now to find my traveling partner.” Damn. Ominis had probably gotten that owl about Him that morning and she’d barreled right over him and however he was feeling with her shop idea. She hadn’t even noticed something was wrong until, what? Three hours later? God, she was a sh*tty friend.

She finally spotted him on a bench near the paper goods store.

“There you are,” she said. “I believe these are yours.”

He winced as he took the bag.

“Thank you,” he said. “And I apologize for my behavior earlier. You were trying to help.”

“If I’d been a better friend, I’d have noticed sooner. I’m sorry.”

“Bah.” He waved his hand. “You were excited about your business. There’s nothing to be sorry for.”

“Bygones?”

“Bygones.” He tried a smile. “So we’ve gotten the big purchases out of the way. What else do you need?”

“Potions supplies. They hadn’t gotten their Fall stock last we checked. And the basic alchemy set. What about you?”

“I could do with some more phials. Oh, did you sign up for Apparition lessons?”

“What lessons?”

“Apparition.” He frowned. “Professor Weasley should’ve brought it up.”

“Oh. No, we got onto how much she hates the idea of me being an auror. Who teaches apparition?”

“Someone from the Ministry. It costs twelve galleons. Check with her when we get back; I think there’s a deadline. If you’re old enough, of course. You have to be of age.”

“Right. Thank you.”

Together, they headed to the potions shop but instead of balking at all the people, Ominis cast a subtle bubblehead charm.

“Don’t know why I didn’t think of this before,” he said.

“I do. You were being a prat.”

“Cheeky this morning.”

This stop took a little longer as she hadn’t had the chance to order things beforehand. Also, Ominis absolutely refused to let her buy anything ‘subpar.’

“You’ve dealt with secondhand all year,” he said. “I know you’re grateful and I know you’ve made do but if you’re going to do your best work so you can be an auror, you need the best equipment. Buy the damn cauldron.”

“Why, Ominis! I don’t think I’ve ever heard you swear. Is that how a gentleman behaves?”

He flipped the cauldron over her head and walked away.

*

New pewter cauldron, decorated on the outside with Celtic knotwork, a set of shiny brass scales, a set of crystal phials with little triquetras near the stoppers, a mortar and pestle of black marble, and an alchemy set full of things she couldn’t identify.

“I feel like a real witch,” Aurelia said as they walked back to the floo at the Leaky Cauldron. Ominis couldn’t help but laugh.

“You didn’t before?”

“No, it’s the stories. All the witches in fairy tales have some kind of cauldron or pot; they’re always making something nefarious, cooking children–”

“Good god, they don’t actually think we eat children. Although, after today…”

“Maybe we could turn them into something appetizing. What about those screaming candies?”

“They melt in tea. That’s perfect.”

She smiled but, this time, noticed the shadow around his eyes.

“Shall we go home?” she asked. He glanced down and away.

“I should visit Anne. Tell her about the sentence. Would you like to come with me?”

“I think it would be best if I didn’t. You two have more of a history. But I’ll be here when you get back.”

“All right.” He nodded, stepping back. “You first then.”

She stepped through to the flame in the Great Hall and headed upstairs to organize–and try on–her new things. Damn, she really could tell the difference in the new stays and drawers. And that gown.

But trying on and arranging everything to her liking only took a couple hours so she read her new alchemy book until dinner. When Ominis returned that evening, she was waiting for him at the Slytherin table with a nest of blankets on the bench.

“Chicken pot pie tonight,” she said. “Come sit.”

He sat and she didn’t make him talk.

*

“So,” Ominis said. “Last day of August. Everyone gets back tomorrow night.”

“That’s going to be so strange.” Aurelia sat leaning against a tree, sketching him because she was tired of drawing the same rock formation twelve different ways. “It’s been so quiet. I’ve gotten spoiled to doing what we want when we want to.”

“Same. It will be nice to have my housemates back though.” He blinked. “Well.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Oh, don’t apologize again. I’ve already told you it wasn’t your fault, or if it was, you’ve atoned for it. More than, if the rumors are to be believed.”

“That offer to do your laundry is still on the table.”

“And have you see my lacy underthings? I think not.”

She laughed, nudging him with her foot.

“Stop moving,” she said. “I’m trying to get your cheekbones.”

He puffed up his cheeks.

“I will stab you with this pencil.”

He grinned, leaning back against his own tree with his legs stretched out next to her.

“I’ve enjoyed this summer,” he said. “It’s…I was worried. I didn’t know much about you, just that you were…capable and I needed firepower. I’m glad to have become friends.”

“I am too. Thank you for giving me a chance. And helping me so much.”

“Well, in purely Slytherin terms, it’s in my best interest to help you develop rules and boundaries. Can’t have a loose cannon running around; I don’t think Hogwarts could take another hit.”

“And I’ve quite had my fill of chaos.” Her pencil scraped on the paper, oddly loud between them. Last day of August. The halls would fill up, classes would demand more and more of their time, friends, events, there might be Quidditch this year. They wouldn’t be able to just steal away like this to talk or sit or shop.

Maybe he wouldn’t have time for her at all.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“Hmm?” She started, realized she’d stopped drawing. “Sorry. Mind wandered.”

“Your breathing changed. Did I upset you?”

“No.” She smiled. “No, just mourning our lack of homework.”

“Liar.”

She stuck her tongue out at him, apparently making enough noise for him to do it back. Cute.

“I’m not going to suddenly pretend you don’t exist,” he said. “If that’s what you’re worried about.”

“It’s fine. You’ve missed your housemates. I understand.”

“Aurelia.” He turned his head towards her, gaze unfocused but steady. “We’re all right.”

Something in her chest twisted and she forced another smile.

“Right,” she said. “Of course. Now turn back how you were. I’m almost done.”

Chapter 10

Chapter Text

Aurelia spent the morning of September 1st making sure her work and belongings were organized, her dorm room and Room of Requirement were clean and neat, and that her research was secure. She wanted to eat lunch with Ominis after but Professor Garlick had stolen him at breakfast to help her prepare the greenhouses.

So she drew. She went to the top of the Astronomy Tower, drawing everything she could see and humming whatever pieces of a tune popped into her head.

“Good god, woman.”

She startled, looking back to see Ominis clearing the last set of stairs.

“Making a blind man climb all the way up here,” he said. “Cruel and vindictive. I’ve never heard of such a thing.”

“Good for that delicate Pureblood constitution.”

“All right, just because you’re not inbred doesn’t mean you have to be that way.” He sank down next to her. “Are you all right?”

“Yes. Sketching is rather comforting, actually. And the sun is setting.”

“Mmm.” He leaned back on his hands, wand laying next to him. “Describe it to me.”

“Describe it to you.” She looked at the horizon, taking in the gorgeous colors and how they faded from one to the other. “There’s one singular point of heat towards the ground, hot enough you know it would burn if you touched it. It’s dense from there, thick and fuzzy, then it thins into smooth and cool the higher and farther you go. No jagged lines or sharp breaks. Just sweeps of texture that fade like scents through a window.”

He hummed again, lying fully on his back.

“And behind us?”

“The softest, silkiest velvet you’ve ever felt studded with bits of diamond.”

He smiled.

“That sounds lovely.”

“It is.” She sighed, watching the colors change before her eyes. In the distance, the clocktower began to chime. “Almost time. Ready to head down?”

“If it weren’t for all those stairs, yes. I’m half-tempted to just meet everyone in the morning.”

“Oh, yes, so Dahlia can think I did horrible things to you.” Packing away her sketchbook and colored pencils, she helped him to his feet. “I could fly us down, if you like.”

“Stairs are fine.”

“I wouldn’t drop you or go really fast.”

He made a face and she had the sudden thought that maybe someone else had.

“Well,” she said. “If you ever change your mind, the offer’s open.”

“I’ll keep that in mind. Shall we?” He offered his arm and she smiled.

“We shall.”

Together, they clunked down the spindly wooden stairs, more and more torches lighting the way the closer they got to the stone landings.

“Oh!” She pouted. “You dressed up! When did that happen?”

“Well, I can’t very well greet my housemates looking disheveled, can I? What are you wearing?”

“Not a dinner jacket! God, it looks like it was painted onto you.”

“I have a good tailor.”

“You have coat rack shoulders is what you’ve got. Disgusting.”

He laughed.

“Are you actually upset?”

“No.” She mulishly kicked the floor. “Just nervous.”

“Why? I thought you liked Hufflepuff.”

“I do. I don’t know if they like me. Not like I was ever there.”

“Poppy adores you.”

“Poppy thinks hippogriffs are better company than most humans.”

“She’s not wrong.”

She smiled, weak though it was.

“Come here,” she said. “What are we working with?”

They stopped at the base of the tower and he held still while she inspected his outfit. Tweed jacket of dark green and charcoal plaid, black wool slacks, black leather ankle boots, a mauve corduroy waistcoat, cotton ivory dress shirt, and black tie. Modern by muggle standards but traditionally a daytime look. Then again, ‘evening’ meant a little something different to the muggle world when dinner was at nine or ten instead of seven.

There was also the slew of wizarding adults and children alike that wore whatever they wanted, mixing four or five different eras worth of styles. She wasn’t sure if they knew the difference and didn’t care or if they were just backward but she didn’t really see that kind of discrepancy in Slytherin.

“Do Pureblood families work with muggles?” she asked.

“Some. The Statute of Secrecy makes things a little tricky but some do. Even if they don’t admit it.”

“Mmm. Do I have time to change?”

He gave an indulgent smile.

“They have to herd almost a thousand barely supervised children into a line of carriages and boats without anyone drowning or getting lost. You have all the time in the world.”

She snorted.

“I’ll meet you in the Entrance Hall in twenty minutes,” she said.

“Don’t forget your cloak.”

Squeezing his wrist, she hurried off to Hufflepuff. Now to actually decide what to wear. She’d chosen comfortable yet sure when she went to Gringotts, male clothes that made her feel smart and powerful. She didn’t really need to feel that way here, right?

“I heard you took down a troll!”

“Did you really fight poachers?”

“Come on, you didn’t really kill Rookwood, did you?”

“I heard she took down a whole camp of goblins, werewolves, and a manticore all before breakfast!”

She shook her head. They already thought she was some kind of violent loon. Some of the babies were even afraid of her, which was not the look she was going for.

“You’ll need to look feminine sometimes,” Dahlia had said. Feminine, pretty, harmless.

Well. Maybe not ‘harmless’ but not some crazy threat from the jump. Nodding, she slipped on a long, a-line dress of chocolate brown georgette. The sleeves were long and close from shoulder to wrist, nothing like those damned muttonchop things that were getting popular, with pink satin buttons along the side of her forearms. Small pale pink flowers lined the neck with tiny seed pearls in the centers. It was a simple dress, practically medieval, but it made her feel pretty.

Hmm. Maybe she was a little backward too. Oh well.

White ankle boots, charmed to always stay so, and a pale pink ribbon tying back her hair in a low ponytail completed the look.

“There.” Yes. She liked this. Probably the most ‘lady-like’ she’d ever been in her life and she had a weird flutter of disappointment that Ominis wouldn’t see her. Silly. Shaking herself, she grabbed her grey summer cloak and hurried down to the Entrance Hall.

“All right,” she said. “I’m ready. Thank you for waiting.”

“No problem at all.” Ominis offered his arm and they headed out of the castle.

“Feels nice out,” she said.

“It does. New shoes?”

“Yes, thought I’d be brave. I never imagined I’d own white boots, much less wear them. They were always just so much maintenance.”

“Conspicuous consumption at its finest.”

She laughed.

“There’s a term for it?”

“Of course. What’s the point of being better than everyone else if no one knows?”

“Right. How silly of me. Not worrying about food or debt gets so old after a while.”

He chuckled, shaking his head slightly.

“Appearing to not worry about food or debt gets old after a while. You might be surprised how many old families are up to their necks in I-Owe-Yous.”

“To Gringotts?”

“Merlin, no, that would be embarrassing. Other families. Money, jewels, land, marriage arrangements. If you can think of it, it’s probably worked into some kind of future payback.”

“I don’t even know how to respond to that.”

“Do muggles not have arranged marriages?”

“No, they do. They don’t even have to be well-off. Marriage is a way to survive for women; it’s always a business deal. I just didn’t realize people also planned to sell future children.”

“Forgotten the kings of France already, I see.”

“Can you speak French?”

“Oui. French, Latin, and Greek.”

She stumbled on a cobblestone, his arm tightening to hold her up.

“All right there, darling?”

“Sorry.” She flushed. “When did you have time to learn three other languages? Was this all before Hogwarts?”

“Yes, private tutors. A good deal of the Old Families either have roots or kin in other countries. French and Italian are the most common. Latin is considered necessary for magic since it became the Standard in the early 9th century and Greek is considered ‘manly.’”

“What the hell makes a language ‘manly’?”

“Your guess is as good as mine. If it was just sound, I’d say German would be more manly than Latin but that’s just going by the stereotypical ‘harsh’ and ‘aggressive’ ideas.”

“Bit sexist.”

“It is, isn’t it?” He shrugged. “I didn’t mind learning Greek. The stories are compelling at least. ‘I would recognize him by touch alone, by smell; I would know him blind, by the way his breath came and the way his feet struck the earth. I would know him in death, at the end of the world.’*”

“What’s that?”

“Ah, it’s a reference to the Trojan War. Stories that old were passed down orally. It took a while for them to be written down so when they did, people came to think of that one version as the ‘correct’ one. Homer, a Greek poet, compiled the Illiad, from the Greek word for Troy, ‘Illium.’ A while later, a witch named Madeline Miller got fed up with the very biased translations and wrote her own version. That was a quote from hers about one of the heroes.”

“Wouldn’t that just be biased in a different way?”

“Maybe.” He smiled. “Or maybe her work was more true to the spirit of the original. It’s a moot point in any case. Oral stories were meant to teach lessons, explain broad strokes of moral codes and universal ideas. Novels now like to focus on individuals. That’s a…very modern approach.”

“Mmm.”

Night had completely fallen by now, torches along the main road flickering in the breeze. She took an easy breath, tasting the late heat of summer. Yes, she was glad he’d reminded her about the cloak. The temperature would be considerably lower on the return trip.

“Your hearing,” she said. “Like for music. You’re more sensitive to changes in sound so pronunciation would be easy for you. It would be nothing for you to learn new languages that young.”

He smirked, obviously pleased.

“Very good. Yes, learning to speak a language is easier for me than most. The new letters, though, can be irritating.”

“That makes sense.”

“Do you know any other languages?”

“Maybe someday. Ladies would come through the shop sometimes speaking…well, I think they were trying to speak French. It sounded like they were trying too hard though, like they were trying to impress somebody. Which I thought was stupid because I didn’t care how fancy you pretended you were. I cared about your money and that you didn’t kick me in the face when I was trying to fit you.”

“They didn’t.”

“One tried. She missed, fell off the platform, I got in trouble. It was a whole mess.” She tilted her head. “Professor Fig mentioned accidental magic in young children. Do you think I knocked her over?”

“Possibly.”

“Huh.” She grinned. “I don’t hate that idea.”

“I don’t either. There’s no reason to kick a child in the face. Unless they’re trying to eat your toes, of course.”

“Of course.” She squeezed his arm. “I’m hungry.”

“I don’t have any snacks on me. Sorry.”

“Maybe the thestrals will share some of their meat.”

“You want to fight a thestral over a steak, you’d better give me your boots. I don’t think there’s a charm out there that can get out thestral blood.”

“Aw, you think I’d win?”

“I think I’d be very lonely at breakfast.”

She chuckled, briefly touching her head to his shoulder.

“Oh,” she said. “Looks like the train’s arrived. God, were we ever that small?”

“I could fit in a suitcase when I was eight.”

“Laundry basket.”

“With the lid?”

“Of course with the lid. I’m not a complete heathen.”

*

“Oh my god, I missed you so much!”

“Ahh! It’s so good to see you!”

“Look what Auntie got me!”

Yells and squeals echoed as six-hundred odd students poured out of the train. Ominis and Aurelia stood near the carriages, the young man strong and steady through the noise. A few classmates greeted him but most gave him a wide berth, glaring or just looking uneasy. Aurelia frowned. Had they always done that?

“There you are.” Dahlia’s voice made her jump and she turned to see the blonde step out of the crowd. “Ominis, darling. How are you?”

“I’m well, Dahlia.” Ominis smiled. “How was the trip?”

“Boring, as always. The summer though.” She took his hand, twisting a bit, and his face lit up.

“He finally did it!” he cried.

“He did.”

“Congratulations!” He started speaking quickly in French, her responding in kind, and Aurelia was caught between greeting whoever passed that she recognized and listening to how pretty they sounded. The blonde male student from before walked up behind Dahlia.

“Aran.” Ominis beamed, holding out his hand. “Congratulations.”

“Thank you, Ominis.” ‘Aran’ shook his hand then his sharp eyes slid to Aurelia.

“Ah.” Ominis must’ve felt it too. “Aurelia, this is Aran Malfoy. Aran, my friend, Aurelia Green.”

“Pleasure to meet you, Miss Green.” Malfoy bowed, lightly kissing her fingers. “You look lovely.”

“I-thank–Nice to meet you too, Mr. Malfoy. Miss Greengrass, good to see you again.” Aurelia pulled her hand back–too quickly? “Congratulations on your engagement.”

Ominis had the grace to blush.

“Sorry,” he said. “I got excited. These two have been courting for over a year. We thought he’d never ask.”

“There’s nothing wrong with being thorough,” Malfoy said.

“Nothing at all.” Dahlia put a hand on his arm, smiling indulgently. “And you.” She turned to Aurelia. “Pull back your cloak. Let me see.”

Aurelia did as she asked, standing still and trying not to feel like a horse for sale.

“Not bad,” Dahlia said. “Your idea or his?”

“Mine. I didn’t want to look like a complete ass next to that.” She saw Ominis mouth ‘that’ out the corner of her eye. Dahlia just grinned.

“Still have work to do on that mouth. We’ll talk later this week.”

“Talk? About–”

High-pitched squeals gave Aurelia just enough warning to step to the side before Poppy and Natty both barreled into her. Ominis made a show of stumbling back anyway, making Aurelia laugh.

“Later,” Dahlia called.

“Oh, Merlin, it’s so good to see you!” Poppy gushed. “How’s Highwing? Did the thestrals have their foal yet? How are the unicorns?”

“You would not believe what happened at Grandmother’s birthday!” Natty said. “If I hadn’t been there, I wouldn’t have believed it myself!”

A hand snaked through their bouncing to squeeze the back of her elbow and she managed to catch the sight of Malfoy handing Dahlia up into one of the carriages before following her with Ominis. Then suddenly Aurelia was in the next carriage, listening to four different stories told at once and laughing so hard she got dizzy.

Maybe this would be all right after all.

Chapter 11

Chapter Text

Aurelia actually had a split second where she forgot school had started. The clamor of the Great Hall full of students hit her broadside, making her pause mid-step. Right. Other people. It was a Slytherin day but instead of sliding in next to Ominis at the ridiculously empty Slytherin table, she stood staring at a couple hundred snakes complaining about classes and checking their schedules.
Should she go over there anyway? Would it be weird? She didn’t want to make him uncomfortable.

“Aurelia!” Poppy waved at her from the Hufflepuff table. “Here, I saved you a seat.”

Well, that settled that. With one last glance at the Slytherins, Aurelia went to her house and grabbed some giant rolls.

“So what’s going on with you and Gaunt?” Adelaide asked.

“What do you mean?” Aurelia looked up and down the table. “Do we have any honey?”

Someone passed it down, the outside already sticky.

“You and Gaunt,” Adelaide said. “You two looked awfully chummy down at the station.”

“No, we looked cold. We were cold down at the station. We both stayed at the castle over the summer.” Ah, nothing like fresh baked bread warm from the oven with honey sinking into all the fluff. Whoever said ‘man could not live on bread alone’ had clearly never had this.

“Just be careful,” Adelaide said.

“Of what?”

Owls started flooding the Great Hall, letters and forgotten bits and bobs and oh, four howlers already. Aurelia hunched over her food, eyeing the birds and their fluttering bits of what she hoped were just feathers, when a large, well-groomed owl headed for the Slytherin table. It dropped a letter over Ominis, which Dahlia snatched out of the air. Ominis turned to her as she opened it. A beat. She grabbed his shoulder, reading out loud, then she threw up her hands. Everyone around Ominis started cheering, blocking Aurelia’s view, but she was already on her feet.

“Aurelia?” Poppy asked. Aurelia ran across the hall.

“Ominis!”

He turned from the back pats and handshakes from his table just in time to catch her in his arms.

“I did it!” His face was wet where it pressed into the crook of her neck. “I did it. I got an ‘O.’” He squeezed her even tighter. “I’ve just felt so stupid.”

“Oh, honey…” She hugged him as tight as she could, only letting go when he did. “I knew you could do it. I’m so proud of you.”

“Thank you.” He was pink up to the tips of his ears but so adorably happy. “I couldn’t have done it without you.”

“Please, you did all the work.” She squeezed his arms one more time. “I’ll catch you in Potions class, Mr. Gaunt.”

He beamed.

“Miss Green.”

She waved vaguely at the rest of the table–awkward–and headed back to Hufflepuff, glancing at the Professors’ table just to avoid the weird looks from students. Professors Weasley, Garlick, and Ronen were all smiling and clapping for him and Professor Sharp met her eye with a nod. She smiled back.

Good.

*

Transfiguration was first and Aurelia was happy to sit next to Poppy. The brunette’s bag was covered in drawings of different creatures in different inks and she was starting to work up the strap. Next was Charms where Garreth plopped down next to her and promised not to blow anything up if she promised not to light the room on fire. Lunch passed quickly, alarmingly so, then it was Defense Against the Dark Arts with Natty.

“Yes!” Natty gave her a strong hug and drew her to a table near the front. “Partners?”

“Partners. Promise if you turn me into an animal, it can’t be something stupid.”

“No, of course not. And if you knock me out, make sure I don’t have any marks for my mother to see.”

“Done.”

Aurelia’s head was spinning by then. Older students had bemoaned sixth year studies but she’d just passed it off as children complaining about work. Looking at the syllabi now, she understood.

Three units in Transfiguration with an assigned performance of a set of spells and accompanying paper, plus a short paper at the end of each month about one of the topics they’d covered. Their final project was a theory paper incorporating everything they’d learned so far, something she had no idea how to even approach, and a project chosen from a pre-approved list.

Charms was both a little lighter and a little heavier. Every week, Professor Ronen would post a discussion topic on the board in the back of the class. They’d have to write a paragraph responding to it, post that paragraph on the board, and write a paragraph responding to another student’s answer. At the end of the first term, they were to present a group project on an assigned topic and turn in a corresponding paper. At the end of the second term, they were to turn in a solo project chosen from a pre-approved list and a corresponding paper.

Aurelia didn’t do well with group projects, never had. She’d have to keep an eye on Garreth to make sure he didn’t dump all the work on her and god knew who else would be assigned to them. Damn.

Defense was exciting though. Mondays for lectures, Wednesdays and Fridays for practice and critiques, and a short paper of techniques they’d learned and their results due the following Monday. There would also be papers on dark creatures due every month, something Aurelia was not worried about at all. The first term project was even better. Professor Hecat would give them a scenario, they’d write how they would handle it, and duel against a simulation of that scenario. There would also be a duel against another student, because of course.

Second term was to focus on non-verbal spells but they wouldn’t end the year with another simulation.

“We will host a dueling tournament,” Professor Hecat announced. “All classes of sixth and seventh years will participate. N.E.W.T students and non-N.E.W.T students will be separate, naturally, but that doesn’t mean you can take it easy. I expect variety, creativity, and sportsmanship.”

Aurelia was really excited about that, and so were other students, if the chatter was anything to go by.

“Go easy on us, huh, Green?” someone asked.

“Why?” Aurelia asked. “Are you that bad?”

“Oh, sh*t!”

“Shut up, man!”

Thankfully, Aurelia had a free period between Defense and dinner so she was able to plug everything into her pretty new leather planner and start thinking of ideas for the different projects. The teachers didn’t have their pre-approved lists yet, or at least hadn’t given them out, but there was still plenty in the syllabi to get an idea. Because that was really all she had at this point. The last year and a half had opened her eyes to what was possible; she had more questions than ever now. Hopefully, they’d be answered in class and if they weren’t, she’d be able to use those questions for projects.

That covered Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, three classes each. Tuesday, she started her day with a free period which she spent in her Room. She had a list of questions about the repository too, including how the metal contained the pain, if it would leak eventually, how the pain was extracted, how and why it took the form it did, why it made her feel so disgusting, and if it was possible to disintegrate it with other magic. Professor Weasley had mentioned that she and the other professors couldn’t do anything about the residue that had escaped, meaning transfiguration spells and charms weren’t all that effective–at least on their own. That left potions–which Professor Sharp would’ve covered–and alchemy, something Aurelia knew nothing about. Hopefully, this year would provide some insights.

Next came Potions, where she found Ominis at the front table.

“Morning, friend,” she said.

“Good morning.” He stood, smiling in her direction. “How was your first day?”

“Busy but I’m excited.” She sat, tugging his sleeve to draw him down too. “Yours?”

“Same.”

“Mind if I’m your partner this year?”

“Not at all. I hope you don’t object to the table though. It’s easier for me to hear the instructions.”

“I understand. So long as you don’t stand up for me every time I get up. We have enough stairs in this castle; you don’t need that much exercise.”

He laughed.

“As you wish.”

Potions was laid out a little differently than the other classes. On Tuesday, they’d get a lecture on the potion of the week and prep their ingredients. Thursday, they’d brew, then write a report on the results and uses of the potion to be turned in the following Tuesday. Some potions required two people but each student would still have to turn in their own papers and if they were the same, they’d both fail.

Weeks Two through Thirty-two would follow that pattern with the last two weeks after reserved for review. At the end of the first term, they’d turn in a potion Professor Sharpe had assigned them along with a full report of its history, effects, uses, process, and results. Second term was the same except they got to choose their big potion from yet another pre-approved list.

There was also a grade attached to their potions folio. Professor Sharpe showed them his at the beginning of class. The first section was organized by Potion with instructions, usage, antidotes, ingredients, etc. The second section was organized by Use with possible potions listed under each. The third section was organized by Ingredient with uses, correspondences, and potions in which they were used. Aurelia absolutely loved it. Each section was clearly marked and one could easily find exactly what they were looking for based on the starting point.

God, that would’ve been helpful last year.

“Spend the rest of the class organizing what you have already,” Professor Sharp said. “I want generic safety procedures at the front and potion-specific procedures with the potions themselves. Everyone clear?”

“Can we decorate them?” one girl asked.

“As long as they are easy to read.”

Oh, Aurelia was going to have fun with this.

“I missed you at breakfast,” Ominis said quietly after a few moments. “Did I do something to offend?”

“No!” She winced, glancing up at Professor Sharp. Good. He was fussing at one of the others. “No, I just…didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

“Oh. Did you want to stop? Now that our Houses are back?”

She made a face.

“Do you want to?” she asked.

“I don’t want to make you uncomfortable either.”

“You wouldn’t.”

“Nor would you.”

Something in her chest fluttered.

“Hufflepuff tomorrow?” she asked.

“Hufflepuff.”

*

Lunch went by quickly again then it was Alchemy and, because fate had a sense of humor, the only seat left open was right next to Aran Malfoy. Aurelia took a deep breath and walked up to the table.

“Mr. Malfoy.”

He stood, nodding to her.

“Miss Green.”

“May I join you?”

“Of course.” He waited to sit until she did. “Before class starts, I want to formally apologize for our behavior outside the Common Room.”

“Unnecessary but appreciated. You didn’t know me from Eve.” She swept her eyes across the class. Not a front table but not the back either. “And the school seems to have opinions.”

“Some quite vocal opinions, yes. But Miss Greengrass and Mr. Gaunt both speak very highly of you. I’d like to be allies, if nothing else.”

“I would like that too. Congratulations on your engagement.”

He smiled and it softened his unfairly handsome face.

“Thank you.”

She nodded.

“Oh,” she said. “And I don’t know if this class has a lot of moving or not but I’ll tell you the same thing I told Ominis: you don’t have to stand up every time I get up from the table.”

He chuckled.

“I will try to remember that.”

“All right, class!” A middle-aged man with dark skin and shoulder-length, curly black hair swept into the rooms, robes a brilliant purple. “Let’s get started!”

Professor Khalid Avicenna was intelligent and well-read with a dry sense of humor and a twinkle in his eye that would scream trouble in someone their age. He also had an adorably infectious excitement for alchemy itself.

“This is science, transfiguration, potions, charms, and elemental magic from the Old Days,” he said. “A highly experimental field but with so many applications. Medical, combat, practical. If you’ve gone to St. Mungo’s, you’ve experienced alchemy. If you’ve used a floo connection, you’ve experienced alchemy. It’s everywhere and in every country, even if it goes by different names.”

The year was split up into three units, Chinese Taoism and Indian Dharmic faiths in the first term and the various Western schools in the second term. A paper covering an assigned theory was due at the end of each unit plus a replication of a chosen experiment with a report covering the process and proposed improvements. Success was not necessarily mandatory, especially since a lot of the original experiments failed in the first place. That part was nice.

For the final project in Spring, they were to pick one of the three experiments they’d already covered, actually perform the proposed improvements with the Professor’s revisions, and write a paper about the new results.

“Maybe you’ll succeed the second time,” Professor Avicenna said. “Maybe you won’t. Even failure is data.”

Discouraging yet…not? Aurelia made a large note to remind herself that ‘failure wasn’t the end.’ She’d be frustrated enough to spit nails if she didn’t make any headway at all on the repository but narrowing down what it wasn’t still helped. She had a destination; she needed the path to get there.

Next to her, Aran seemed to be diving into the books before Professor Avicenna was even done with the introduction. As a combined sixth and seventh year class, it made sense. Aran had probably already covered this so he had his own projects to work on. How would lectures work with two different lesson plans?

Hmm. Not her problem. She just needed to focus on her work and not pissing off Malfoy.

Or Dahlia.

*

After all of that, Aurelia fully expected art class to be just as intense. Professor Artemisia Fontana, however, was a free-spirited Italian woman draped in beaded silks that spent most of that first class telling stories of different artists that had them all laughing and cringing in equal measure. Artists, apparently, were crazy.

Work wise, there were different topics every month with certain requirements and a different historical artist. They were to take the requirements and something from that artist’s work, technique, color palette, subject matter, whatever, and just…draw. At the end of the month, they were to turn in a paper on that artist and how they influenced their own work and at the end of each term, they were to pick nine of their best pieces, display them, and they’d critique them as a class. For the final, they’d present a piece incorporating everything and a paper explaining what that ‘everything’ entailed.

Aurelia had to admit that she felt thoroughly out of her depth when she first saw the studio. Honestly, how could charcoal and paint do that? Yet Artemisia–she insisted–was so passionate about the process of art and emotions one could invoke that it was hard not to see things that way.

There was also the fact that over half the class was taking it because they needed an elective and thought this would be an easy grade. Two students left before the bell had even rung. Aurelia ignored that though. She was here to learn a new way to see the world and if the eight different words Artemisia used for ‘red’ in that first lecture were anything to go by, this was the right place.

Maybe she could ask for some book ideas next week. After she got a better feel for the teacher.

She sat down at the Hufflepuff table that evening for dinner with a heavy sigh.

“That bad?” Adelaide asked.

“That busy. I have a good feeling though. I’m excited.”

“How can you be excited about school?” one of the boys asked.

“Just because you’re an idiot,” someone else said.

“Hey!”

Aurelia plated a roasted chicken breast and a scoop of mashed potatoes. Then another scoop because she could practically hear Ominis fussing at her.

“Oh,” she said. “That reminds me. Ominis is eating breakfast over here tomorrow. Just wanted to let you know.”

“What?”

“Gaunt?”

“Why?”

She raised an eyebrow at the suddenly very quiet table.

“Because he’s my friend,” she said. “And we’ve eaten breakfast together every day over the summer.”

“He does stay over breaks, doesn’t he?” Poppy asked. “Does he like anything in particular? We can ask the elves for something after dinner.”

Aurelia smiled at her, grateful.

“No,” she said. “Just normal breakfast. I just didn’t want anyone to start acting like some stuffy Ravenclaws about it.”

That did it. A dozen different voices started speaking at once, all squawking about how snotty some other student from another house had been and how much better Hufflepuff was in Every Way. Aurelia shared a grin with Poppy and turned back to her chicken.

*

Ominis was, predictably, very quiet and formal at breakfast but Poppy and a few others made an effort and Aurelia made him laugh a couple times so she considered it a success. At least, enough of a success that she only felt mostly nervous about joining him at Slytherin the next day. The boys at that end all stood for her, making her edge closer to Ominis, and he seated her with a warm smile.

“They won’t bite,” he said. “Well, Ben might but you’re not his type. Here. I smell bacon somewhere.”

“That’s sausage,” she said. “And you’re about to get your sleeve in the gravy.”

“Then move the gravy.”

“How about I just move you?”

“No need to get an attitude because they intimidate you. Just admit you’re terrified and pass me the scones.”

The sass in this man. She tried very hard not to growl at him as she squished a scone in her fist before putting it on his plate–which, naturally, had him stealing food from hers.

“I’m gonna kill him,” she said to no one. “He’s never gonna enjoy bitching about potions because I’m gonna kill him before next class.”

“Just don’t leave any witnesses,” Aran said. Aurelia laughed and settled a little closer to Ominis.

Chapter 12

Chapter Text

“So…” Natty took a little longer getting back to their desk after the practice rounds in Defense. “You and Gaunt then?”

“Oh, Natty, not you too,” Aurelia said.

“I’m just worried. I’ve heard things about the Gaunts since I got here and with Sallow killing that muggle and you and Gaunt here alone over the summer…”

“He–” A muggle? That was the story? f*ck, Aurelia had been so wrapped up in what actually happened last year, she didn’t even think to wonder about the cover stories. sh*t.

She shook her head.

“We’re fine,” Aurelia said. “Ominis is sweet and kind and has been nothing but a gentleman.”

“All right.” Natty held up her hands. “If you say it’s done, it’s done.”

“Thank you.” Aurelia finished gathering her things. “See you later?”

“Later.” Natty gave her a warm smile and Aurelia headed to the library. Free periods were such a strange concept but she wasn’t about to argue, not when she had so much work to do. And a perk of this early in the year was how empty the library itself was. She went straight to their usual 4 a.m. table only to freeze at the top of the steps.

“Ominis?”

He was slumped at the table, hands over his ears. She hurried up to him, dropping her bag on the floor.

“Ominis, are you all right? Should I call the–”

“Shhh…” He reached out, patting her arm, shoulder, face until he landed on her mouth. “Ominis is having a breakdown right now.” His voice was barely above a whisper but his face didn’t look distressed, just worn. Not injured then.

“What do you need?” she whispered, gently taking his hand. He groaned and put his head back on the table, covering himself with his arms. When he still didn’t move, she quietly pulled out the chair next to him and sat down. A few minutes passed. A few more.

“Professor DiMucci asked if I’d help her with the younger singing classes,” he said at last, still with barely any volume. “That turned into me teaching them by myself.”

“Ah. Loud?”

“Loud. Off-key. Nasally. Pitchy. Falsetto. I am so overstimulated right now, I’m ready to burn my clothes just so nothing’s touching me.”

She chuckled, stomach squirming. Well, that was quite the image.

“Do you want me to leave?” she asked.

“No. Just…don’t talk.”

“All right.” She went to pat his shoulder then stopped and silently opened her bag. ‘Overstimulation.’ New term but for her but she certainly understood the idea. Some days, rain was fine but someone breathing in the corner made her want to huck a chair at them. That meant a quill scratching on parchment now would probably get her head put through the table. A book should be fine though, as long as she was careful with the pages. Hmm. Charms. That was a history chapter that didn’t require notes.

So she slowly took out her Charms book, wincing at every little scrape and shift, settled in her chair, and just as slowly opened to the right chapter.

‘In 1096, a Mumbai wizard by the name of Rajesh Koothrapali was the first to notice the unique blend of medical charms used in the native tribes of the Himalayas…’

She’d probably have to reread it later, if she had time, list off the types of medical charms and any questions she had, but this would do for now. Professor Ronen was good about telling them what they needed to look out for; he wanted them to succeed.

Halfway through the chapter, she cut her finger turning the page. She hissed, wincing more at the sudden noise than the pain, and stuck her finger in her mouth.

A soft, deep chuckle made her jump.

“Here,” Ominis said, holding out his hand with a smile. “I didn’t mean you couldn’t make any noise at all.”

Gently taking her wrist, he cleaned and healed her finger with a quiet murmur.

“Thank you,” she said. “How did you–”

“Oh, you pick up a lot of things in those old houses.”

She bit her tongue. sh*t.

“Are you going to keep teaching?” she asked.

“Yes.” Sighing, he leaned back in his chair, rubbing his eyes. “Yes, I want to help. I enjoy it. It’s just…a lot. Thank the gods I have a free period right now.”

“Did you–oh! What about my Room?”

“I am not going to hide in your dorm room. I do have some manners.”

“Oh, no, no, it’s my study room. You can snuggle with the puffskeins, if you want. Or the unicorns.”

“You wouldn’t–You have unicorns? Did I know you have unicorns?”

“Actually, I don’t know if anyone knows I have unicorns. There were some assignments I had to do that required catching and/or caring for beasts and I liked the company so I caught a few more. Not counting the ones I saved from poachers. I let them go when they recovered.”

“And…unicorns.”

“Mm-hmm. And a phoenix. Deek asked me to save him. Quite the sweet tooth actually. But there’s plenty of room and a sitting area where you can be a potato.”

He smiled, a weary melt to his frame she wasn’t used to seeing.

“I’m not even going to question it,” he said. “That would be lovely. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Actually, we can go now, if you like, so I can show you where everything is.”

She led the way, stumbling a bit when they had to go through one of the courtyards.

“Sorry. New feet.”

“You really must read the instructions, darling. Mmm.”

She looked back to see him wincing.

“Ominis?” She didn’t hear anything too loud and there wasn’t anything on the ground. It was really bright but… “Wait, can you see light?”

“To a degree. Enough light and shadow to navigate anyway.”

“What?!” She drew him into the shade. “You let me drag you all over creation this summer and I’ve been hurting you the whole time? What the hell!”

“You haven’t been hurting me. It’s just a mild headache before my eyes adjust. It’s fine.”

“It’s not fine.” She dug around in her robes for something small and–oh, a pair of gaudy lizard glasses she’d been meaning to send to Penny for the shop. Those would work. She transfigured them into simple, black sunglasses with rectangle lenses.

“Hold still.”

He obeyed and she carefully set them on his face.

“There,” she said. “How’s that? Is that any better?”

He hummed, tilting his head.

“It is, actually. Thank you.”

“Of course. Next time, tell me. God.”

The rest of the trip to the Room of Requirement was, thankfully, uneventful. Deek appeared as soon as they entered.

“Miss Green,” Deek said brightly. “How are you today?”

“I’m doing much better,” she said. “Thank you. Deek, this is my friend, Ominis. I’d like to let him rest here when he needs to.” She smiled, lowering her voice to a stage whisper. “The firsties are driving him a little crazy.”

Deek smiled back.

“Yes, Miss. Nice to meet you, Mr. Ominis.”

“And you, Deek.” Ominis crouched, offering his hand, and Deek shook it with a surprised but pleased little smile.

“Mr. Ominis shall call Deek if he needs anything?”

“Yes. Thank you very much.”

The elf popped away and Aurelia conjured a small model of the Room.

“Wait.” Ominis straightened up. “What was that? What did you just do?”

“Oh, I used moonstone to conjure a model so I can show you where everything is. Why?”

“You mean ‘transfigure.’”

“No, I mean ‘conjure.’” She smiled. “This is the Room of Requirement, honey. The rules are different here.”

He huffed a small, airy laugh and rubbed his face.

“The Room of Requirement,” he said. “It’s supposed to be a myth.”

“So are dragons. Here, gimme your hand.” When he did, she gently guided it around the model. “Here’s where we are. Up here is the beach vivarium with the hippogriffs and diricawls. Over here are the thestrals; that’s a swamp. This one is more of a hill-castle-type area with the phoenix, the unicorns, and the graphorn. This one is a clearing next to a pond with the puffskeins, kneazles, a jobberknoll, and the nifflers. So maybe don’t take anything valuable into that one.

“Over here in this lower room is where I’ve been growing my herbs and brewing my potions. There are…five or six stairs, I think, down. Feel free to use whatever you need. We’re in the sitting area but there’s also a bathroom through here. And a bedroom, if you need to pass out more than just on the sofa. Oh, and there are books flapping around and the enchanted loom is constantly going so that’s the click-clacking.”

He smiled. Hmm. The sunglasses looked nice on him.

“I think I’d like to meet the puffskeins,” he said. “You did name them, didn’t you?”

“Of course I named them.” She set down the model and led him upstairs. “I’m not totally uncultured.”

“Well.”

She smacked him.

*

“Miss Green.” Dahlia walked up with purpose right as Aurelia stepped onto one of the many moving staircases. “May I have a word?”

“Of course,” Aurelia said. Because what else was she going to say? “What can I do for you?”

“It’s more what I can do for you. You’ve caught the attention of quite a few families over the last year. What are your plans for after school?”

“The Auror Program, hopefully.”

They stepped off the staircase and headed towards the Defense tower.

“Have I misstepped?” Aurelia asked. “I didn’t mean to offend anyone by coming over for breakfast.”

“No, no, you haven’t offended anyone. Yet.”

Aurelia tried to keep her face clear.

“Is this about Ominis?”

“No, dear, this is about you.” Dahlia drew Aurelia off to the side, out of the way of the crowd. “You insist on maintaining this friendship?”

“I do.”

“Then I’m going to adopt you. You have a free period before Potions, yes? I do as well. Come to the old theory classroom in the Astronomy tower Tuesday morning.”

“What? Why?”

“If you’re going to survive in our world, you need more than just good aim and a sharp tongue. Or did you think being an auror was just running around, fighting villains?”

Aurelia blinked at her and Dahlia rolled her eyes.

“That’s called ‘confirmation bias,” the blonde said. “You’ve operated a certain way, it works for you, it confirms how you think it should work, and now you think that’s how it always works. It doesn’t. If you offend or arrest the wrong person, your career will be over before it can begin. Aran and I believe that would be a terrible waste.”

“Mmm.” Aurelia narrowed her eyes. “I won’t be on your leash or anyone else’s. I’ve done that and I can’t say I like it very much.”

“We don’t want you on our leash. We want you to do your job.” Dahlia leaned closer, lowering her voice. “So frustrating, wasn’t it? All those criminals shoved into a box and forgotten? All those innocent people who never got closure?”

Aurelia’s jaw tensed.

“If you’re going to operate in this world,” Dahlia went on. “You have to understand this world. And I won’t have you hurt Ominis with some foolish mistake.”

There it was.

“I thought upper-class girls were more subtle than this,” Aurelia said.

“We are.” Dahlia stepped back with a perfect smile. “You wouldn’t have seen it. Nine ‘o clock Tuesday?”

“Nine ‘o clock.”

“Wonderful. I’ll send you a location. Oh, and bring those heels we picked out. You’ll need them.”

*

“It’s too easy.” Aurelia tapped her pencil on the table, staring unseeing at her homework.

“What’s too easy?” Natty asked.

“Hmm? Oh.” Whups. Said that out loud. “Dahlia Greengrass has informed me that I will be learning Pureblood etiquette. Said it will help me with my career as an auror.”

“She’s not wrong. People in power are pretty much the same wherever you go. I mean, I’d love to just go out and defeat the bad men and have everything turn out fine but there will always be people with their own agendas.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of. I’ve met the woman twice. Once outside the Slytherin common room where she thought I was lurking and told me to go away–”

“Were you lurking?”

“I was trying to get in to speak to Ominis.”

Natty gave her a look.

“Natty, I thought this was done. He’s a good man.” Odd saying it that way. They were still minors, technically, still just students but if anyone in this castle was a good man, it was Ominis.

“The second time we met,” she said. “Was at Madam Malkin’s over the summer where she spent the morning helping me pick out clothes.”

“Oh.” Natty blinked. “That’s…”

“Right? And now she’s teaching me how to deal with Purebloods. I just…It’s all happening so fast. Like last year. People just offered to help, you and Poppy and–and Sirona just offered to help and I was trying to survive so I didn’t question it.”

“But you’re waiting for the other shoe to drop.”

“Exactly. Have you heard anything? Can you think of any reason why she’d be so helpful?”

“You mean besides you being the Hero of Hogwarts?”

Aurelia rolled her eyes with a grin.

“Yes,” she said. “Besides that. I mean, I’m a sixteen-year-old girl with no family, no name, very little experience or training. Ominis said she was likely just making an investment but it just feels…”

“Too easy.”

“Yeah.”

Natty sighed, folding her arms on the table.

“I get it,” she said. “I do. I also think it’s really sad that you thought last year was ‘easy.’”

Aurelia winced.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to–”

“No, no, compared to other things I’ve been through, it was. Those criminals were awfully stupid, weren’t they?”

“co*cky.”

“Very co*cky. And for no reason.”

“Serves them right. If some little girls can take out your entire infrastructure, you deserve to be in prison.”

“Here here.”

They shared a smile and Aurelia suddenly wondered if there was anyone in this castle that wasn’t traumatized somehow.

“Go to Greengrass,” Natty said. “Learn everything you can from her. If it’s helpful, use it. If you learn more of why she wants you, that will be useful too. You double-check everything anyway, don’t you?”

“Yes, I’ve learned not to trust hearsay.”

“Well, there you go. It’s just another class. Nothing says you can’t still think for yourself.”

“Right.” Aurelia sat up, mentally shaking herself. “Thank you, Natty. That helped a lot.”

“It’s why I’m here. Now, are you still going to attend the Crossed Wands matches?”

“I don’t know. Probably not. I’ve tried to organize everything so I can do homework during my free periods. I have–well, three now. I’d like to keep my weekends free just to rest. Or try to, anyway. Ominis scolded me a couple times. Said I needed to slow down.”

That look again.

“What?” Aurelia asked.

“Just…be careful. His family–”

“Is not an issue.”

“All right. I just worry about you. I’ve been worrying about you all summer.”

“I’m fine, Natty. I promise. And if you should be worrying about anyone, it should be him. I’m the gremlin of chaos, remember?”

Natty laughed and opened her book.

“Fair enough. Any thoughts on the vampire paper?”

“Actually, I was thinking of looking up some muggle literature, see how much of it’s real.”

“Ooh.” Her eyes lit up. “Yes! We have so many legends back home too, all across the continent. That’s brilliant!”

“Thank you. I’ll be here all week.”

*

The first batch of donated clothes came in when the temperature started to drop–both from the school and Hogsmeade. Penny was ecstatic and Aurelia spent the weekend with her, altering, updating, and transfiguring. Fastidio also loved the idea of having ‘scare nights’ around Halloween. A good number of younger students had already tried to break into the shop to see him so Aurelia and Penny added several more layers of protection to Penny’s room, the shop, and the goods.

“It makes for good business,” Penny said. “They come in during the day too, to try to see Mr. Fastidio. Penny always manages to get them to buy something.”

“That’s wonderful, Penny,” Aurelia said. “I’ll have an updated contract for Fastidio within the next week or so.”

“Yes, Miss Green. And Penny will sell the new stock and get the next batch sorted when it comes in.”

Another problem off Aurelia’s mind. During her time at Hogwarts, she didn’t have to worry about food or shelter but the idea that the auror route might not work out pricked in the middle of the night. At least with this system, she’d always have a steady source of income. Consignment shops always had something to sell and with them being just down the road from Hogwarts, the shop could survive on student allowances alone.

As for classes, Aurelia wavered between feeling confident for the first time in far too long and anxious that she was still so far behind. Her friends helped. They struggled the same as her, sometimes on things she’d already mastered, and when they asked for help, it was just that little bit of validation she needed to calm down.

“Your handwriting is atrocious,” Dahlia said. “You go too fast. You don’t need to rush everything. Slow down. When you slow down, you can control the pace of the situation around you.”

Etiquette lessons were…challenging. Dahlia was very obviously the Queen of Slytherin. Any snakes Aurelia might’ve had a problem with last year behaved themselves once Dahlia and Aran spoke to her at breakfast. Aurelia wasn’t so blind she couldn’t see the different relationships but it was like trying to trace the leaves in a canopy high over her head when the sun was in her eyes. And Dahlia had no problem telling her when she got a shape wrong.

Still, she never lied to Aurelia. When Dahlia said something needed work, it probably needed work. When she said something was ‘acceptable,’ Ominis considered it nearly perfect.

“She’s teaching you to Freya’s standards,” he said one day in her Room. “The Lady Greengrass, matriarch of one of the eight Great Houses and Dahlia’s mother. That means you’ll be able to mingle with anyone of any class by the time you’re done.”

Aurelia hunted down as many books on etiquette as she could anyway. So far, everything had tracked–which helped with her anxiety. But she still had questions and she wasn’t going to not ask just because Dahlia made her feel nervous.

And stupid. God, dance lessons were a pain.

Then there was alchemy class. Aurelia enjoyed it, eating up the books and writing every question that popped into her head. She had to be careful what and how she asked in class though. Too pushy or too pointed and she’d annoy the teacher–unhelpful–or tip him off that she actually had a point to all this, which was dangerous.

She hadn’t had the nerve to go back to the repository since that final fight. She probably should have but she just…couldn’t. And now she didn’t want to go back until she had some kind of solution; the repository could not stay here. But so far all she had were ideas and there was a high probability that all of those were wrong because she still wasn’t entirely sure how alchemy worked.

She was getting there. It was just…too important to leave to chance. She had to be sure.

At least Aran wasn’t an ass. Actually, he was quite funny when they spoke, showing the same dry sense of humor that Ominis did. She wondered if maybe they’d known each other for a while too.

“Oh, Miss Green.” Professor Avicenna waved her to his desk as the bell rang. “This is…an interesting proposal. Based on the Levitical experiment?”

Aurelia nodded, resisting the urge to twist her bag strap. The scapegoat ritual in the Bible was a shot in the dark, really. It had been a shock to find it in her alchemy book and she had no idea if it was even pertinent to what she needed. But if the pain came from someone, it could theoretically go back to someone. And she needed something to hand in for the first term project.

“Might I ask how you came up with this idea?” Professor Avicenna asked. She shifted her weight a little, looking ‘nervous,’ and sighed.

“I got in a philosophical debate with a friend over the summer,” she said. “I’m trying to make a point.”

“Ah.” The man’s eyes curled with his smile. “Well, some of the best discoveries are made out of spite.” He signed off on the proposal and handed it back. “Might I suggest looking into the Greek Thargelia festival. It could give you a framework, help with the logistics. Very similar purposes in both.”

“Like I’m trying to prove it in real life.” She smiled. “Thank you, Professor.”

“You’re welcome, Miss Green. I look forward to seeing what you find.”

Chapter 13

Chapter Text

“You…you want me to what?” Aurelia stared at Duncan, wondering if maybe she hadn’t heard correctly.

“The Herbology corridor,” Duncan said. “The other students are starting to doubt I really got the leaf and we got to arguing then one of the girls said I should go on my birthday as a coming of age thing and she’s so pretty so I thought…maybe you could…I mean…It’s just one fang.”

Now, as dangers went, a hall full of hostile plants didn’t even crack her top ten. That didn’t mean she wanted to go back down to the damp, smelly, writhing corridor after spending a good portion of last year in damp, smelly, chittering caves.

“No,” she heard herself say. “No, I’m not doing that again.”

“But you’re the Hero of Hogwarts!” Duncan’s eyes went wide. “You’ve got to! You help everyone who asks; you’re our savior.”

“I’ve ‘got’ to?”

“W-well, I–you see–”

“No.” She turned away. “I don’t have time for that. You want a date, do it yourself.”

“But you can’t! You have to!”

“Mr. Hobhouse.” Ominis came up the stairs just as she was starting to go down. “You dare raise your voice to a young lady?”

Aurelia glanced over her shoulder. Duncan quailed, sputtering and backtracking, and when Ominis waved his hand almost lazily in dismissal, the boy ran away so fast he tripped over a potted plant.

“Thank you,” she said.

“You’re welcome,” Ominis said. “Are you all right?”

“Yeah, just a little nauseous.”

“Even with him? Goodness, you do need to work on your boundaries.”

“Thanks.” She elbowed him in the side. “Was that you working your money or your big bad reputation?”

“Yes.” He smiled brightly. “Where are you off to on this fine Saturday?”

“Hadn’t thought that far. Just needed to get out of the Common Room.”

“Would you like to accompany me to the lake?”

“Sure.” She took his arm and they headed towards the nearest set of doors. “Got an interesting book in the mail earlier.”

“Oh? More vampire stories? I must say ‘Carmilla’ was very…different than I’d imagined.”

“Did you enjoy it?”

“Surprisingly, yes. When do you need it back?”

“Whenever you’re done. I have the quotes I need. No, it was a copy of the Auror Handbook.”

“Oh.” He opened the last set of doors for them and they stepped out into the crisp, October air. It would probably start snowing soon, maybe even in the next week. “That is interesting.”

“Did you have any hand in it?”

“No, I’m sorry to say I didn’t. Auror handbooks aren’t available for the general public. They’re issued and usually charmed to the recipient. Was it used or new?”

“Used, with a lot of notes.”

“Good notes?”

“Great notes.” She licked her lips, Searching for any loitering ears. No one. “In familiar handwriting.”

“The plot thickens.”

“He hasn’t said anything.”

“Maybe he can’t. Maybe this is his show of support.”

“Should I thank him then?”

“…No. Let him keep plausible deniability.” He turned his head towards her. “You’ve done a great deal of work this summer. Perhaps he can see it now.”

“That would be nice. Although I don’t know when I’d have time to read it. N.E.W.T-level classes are taking more out of me than I thought.”

“You still have the rest of this year and next year. Read the handbook, update your code of conduct, and let it be. I’m sure you’ll update it several more times just from Professor Hecat’s class.”

“Right. You’re right.”

“I know.”

She poked him in the side again, grinning when he smiled.

“By the way,” she said. “What do witches and wizards typically do for their birthday? Duncan said something about a coming of age thing?”

“Well, there are a variety of coming of age traditions, depending on family and heritage. Most involve some sort of ritual in front of an audience to mark one’s transition into adulthood. They’re private though so I’m afraid I can’t say much more than that. Other birthdays are whatever they want. Parties, dinners, presents, that kind of thing. How do muggles celebrate?”

“Same. Parties or meals, games, presents.”

They reached the lake and she swept some leaves and twigs away with a wave of her wand so they could sit down in the grass.

“I was usually too busy to celebrate,” she said. “Just a little dinner with the neighbors, some candied oranges. It was nice though.”

“We’ll have to find some candied oranges for you then. When’s your birthday?”

“June Twenty-Fourth.”

A beat.

“Excuse me?!”

She grinned.

“What? You look upset.”

“Aurelia! We spent almost every day together for three months and you let me miss your birthday? How very dare you!”

She burst out laughing, leaning back on her hands.

“It’s fine,” she said.

“It’s not fine. Merlin, woman, you’re exhausting.” He rubbed his eyes. “I’m telling Poppy.”

“What?”

“And Natty. And Weasley, for good measure.”

“But they’ll attack me!”

“Exactly.” His smirk was laced with mischief. “Now’s your chance to tell me if you actually like candied oranges or if you’ll throw them across the room.”

“Really?”

“Speak now or forever hold your peace.”

“You’re impossible.” She shoved him but he didn’t move an inch.

“So do you?” he asked.

“Yes, I do like them. That doesn’t mean I want you to get me any.” Another shove, another moment of her falling over instead of him. “I spent the day with you.”

“What did we even do?”

“Library. You were telling me about Dante’s…what was it, The Comedy?”

“The Divine Comedy, yes. I…” A hint of pink touched his cheeks. “I rambled, didn’t I? Oh god, I was rambling in Latin. Why didn’t you stop me?”

“I enjoyed it! I’m rubbish at reading stuff that old. The language makes my head hurt sometimes, even when it’s in English. Even some of the textbooks are difficult if I’m not awake enough. That’s why I try to do as much homework as I can during free periods. I’m already used to working then.”

“Mmm.”

“When’s your birthday?”

“October twelfth.”

She blinked.

“You asshole! You’re giving me sh*t about missing mine when yours is Monday?!”

He just laughed and flopped onto his back.

“Slytherin.”

“You can’t use that for everything.”

“Can and did.”

“Uh-huh.” She pulled out her planner and plopped it open on his stomach. “So what do you want?”

“Nothing.”

“Try again.”

“Oh, so you can demand the privilege of planning and buying gifts but when I do it, I’m ‘impossible.’ I see. What happened to honesty and loyalty?”

“I will throw you in the lake.”

“You are welcome to try, darling.”

She glared at him, righteously indignant at how relaxed he looked with his eyes closed and his hands laced behind his head. Little sh*t.
But she couldn’t just call people ‘assholes’ and ‘little sh*ts;’ Dahlia had literally just covered that. So what would the queen do?

“A compromise then, Mr. Gaunt.”

“I’m listening, Miss Green.”

“We go to dinner tomorrow in Hogsmeade. The Three Broomsticks. I won’t beat you for not telling me your birthday is in two days and you won’t tell anyone about mine.”

“Am I still allowed to give you a present?”

“We can exchange presents below twenty-five galleons.”

“What?” He looked towards her, eyes wide. “That’s barely a–”

“Worth more than the house I grew up in. You’ll be fine.”

He frowned, mind and magic steady as he considered.

“All right,” he said. “Did you want to exchange gifts tomorrow?”

“No, it’s too short notice. Just whenever you can.”

“Very well.” He carefully moved her planner off of him. “I’ll let you know when I find something then.”

“Sounds perfect.” She made a note in her planner for dinner tomorrow and shopping next weekend and settled down next to him. “The sun feels nice. Wake me for dinner if I fall asleep?”

“I promise.”

*

“Eeew.” Poppy sat up with a long stretch and yawned. “Why are you doing homework so early?”

“Couldn’t sleep.” Aurelia sat cross-legged on her bed, notebook in her lap, with textbooks open around her. “There are a lot of spells, right?”

“What, like…ever? Yeah. Thousands. Millions, probably, if you think about the rest of the world.”

“Mmm.” She frowned at her notebook. “My theory book last year said spells were split into ‘charms’ and ‘transfiguration’ but that’s just such a big bag. Are there any…” She tapped her pencil on the paper. “Are there any pockets in the big bag?”

Poppy laughed, flopping out of bed, and started digging through her trunk.

“I love how you put things. Yes, there are lots of pockets. I think there’s something…ah! Here we go. We had to read a chapter on that for Arithmancy.” She pulled out a thin book and opened it to one of the early chapters. “Each type of ‘pocket’ requires different arithmancy equations, which, in turn, requires different spells.”

“Maybe I should’ve taken arithmancy this year too.”

“Merlin, no. It’s awful. I’m only taking it because of the medical side. I want to be able to take care of magical creatures at higher levels and I’ll need arithmancy and potions for the more complicated stuff. Trust me, you’re taking more than enough.”

She handed Aurelia the book.

“We read that the first week so just give it back when you’re done.”

“Thank you. I really appreciate it.”

“Sure. I’m going to go take a shower.”

“Don’t forget your slippers.” Aurelia flipped to the beginning of the chapter where there was a chart of different types of spells, developed in the mountains of Tibet.

Charms:
Abjuration–protection, warding, barriers, banishment, harmful effects
Divination–learning about the past, present, and future
Evocation–shaping magical energy into a type of damage or protection from that damage
Traits such as acid, cold, fire, etc
Illusion–semblance of something real that fools the senses (not necessarily all)

Transfiguration:
Conjuration–transportation, creation, summoning
Enchantment–affects the mind/emotions of other creatures
Necromancy–sap life or infuse into dead (healing or harm depending on target)
Transmutation–alterations/transformations of the physical form of creature/object

Aurelia’s eyes grew wide. Holy sh*t. Holy sh*t! She dropped her pencil, grabbed it, snapped the tip, sharpened it again, and started writing as fast as she could. This. This was the break she’d been looking for, the colors she kept seeing finally given names. It was a framework, a start, and she could almost cry for it.

Poppy came back at some point, long enough for Aurelia to give her an awkward yet excited hug, then Aurelia dove back into her work. Charms were warm colors, reds, pinks, oranges, yellows. Transfiguration spells were cool colors, blues, greens, greys, and purples. She’d been able to roughly gauge what she’d been Seeing but now the colors themselves had categories. The book also listed examples of spells in each category so she could, theoretically, simply plug them in. She didn’t want to take that at face value though. She made notes but she wanted to see if that was true. It was an old book.

So absorbed was she in reorganizing her notes that she didn’t even realize time had passed until her stomach growled. Huh. She should probably–sh*t, Ominis!

A quick flick of her wrist said the time was just past three. All right, not a disaster yet. She still had time to get ready. Cleaning up, she locked everything in her trunk, warded it, and grabbed her toiletry bag. It was cold out, would probably get colder as the night wore on. Slacks would make the most sense but this was special. She wanted to feel pretty.

One of her dresses? Or a skirt? No, a dress. Her warmest right now was a long a-line of forest green wool. Medieval again, or maybe something older that she’d picked up in her travels. Penny had helped her spruce it up and now it fell softly over her curves to her ankles. No embroidery, no beading, no embellishment of any kind. Just comfortable and well-made.

Aurelia tied her hair back with a green ribbon as she came down to the Common Room, cloak over one arm, black ankle boots clunking on the stairs.

“And what are you all made up for?” Lenora asked from one of the couches.

“I’m meeting Ominis for dinner.”

“What? Gaunt? Why?”

“Because I want to.” Aurelia raised an eyebrow at her, fastening the cloak around her shoulders. “Is there a problem?”

“No.” Lenora very pointedly went back to her book. “Your life.”

Aurelia rolled her eyes. She’d never liked the snotty girl. From the very first conversation, it had felt like Lenora thought herself the smartest person in the room, speaking down to the new, woefully uneducated girl as if such a thing were some great feat. Bitch.
Whatever. It didn’t matter. Aurelia fussed with her sleeves a bit and headed down to the Entrance Hall. Ominis stood leaning against the far wall dressed in brown slacks, navy blazer, white dress shirt, and deep green paisley vest. She laughed.

“We match,” she said. He smiled, straightening.

“Great minds think alike,” he said. “Shall we?”

“Do you need your cloak?”

He raised his other arm to show the chocolate brown overcoat and matching gloves.

“I may have to steal that,” she said.

“Going to fight me for it?”

“Maybe.”

He grinned, offering his free arm, and they started down the path.

“Happy almost, by the way,” she said. “How old will you be?”

“Seventeen.”

“Oh, that’s–wait, that’s actually an adult here, isn’t it?”

“Officially, yes. Why? What’s the age of majority for muggles?”

“Twenty-one but high society girls could be presented, engaged, and married before they were twenty.”

“There is so much wrong with that sentence.”

She snigg*red.

“So,” she said. “How was your day?”

“Oh, we’re just sweeping past that? All right. Yes, darling, my day was fine, thank you.” He tilted his head, that grin still on his lips. “Darling, you’re practically bouncing. What is it?”

“Poppy let me borrow one of her arithmancy books and it has all the different spell categories that I was missing so instead of just ‘charms’ and ‘transfiguration spells,’ I have actual columns for conjuration, enchantments, that kind of thing. I’m pretty sure I know what color is which but I’m going to watch people cast in classes to see and Artemisia recommended a book on color theory so when I do figure out which color is what spell, I’ll have names for the different shades.”

She squealed, squeezing his wrist.

“I’m so excited! Of course, I’m sure those categories can be broken down further but at least this gives me a starting point and that’s been the hardest part, just figuring out how to think of all this. And there are probably spells that combine the different categories but that’s what the observation is for, right?”

“Right.” He smiled. “That’s wonderful, darling. I’m proud of you.”

She beamed.

“Thank you. I’m trying to use as many sources as I can. I’ve learned not to trust just one.”

“That’s called ‘corroborating’ and yes, that’s a wise habit.”

She squeezed his wrist again then narrowed her eyes at a group of whispering students passing them on the bridge.

“Let it go,” he said quietly.

“But–”

“Darling. It’s fine. Certainly nothing new.”

“Even Hufflepuffs have something to say. I thought they were supposed to be the nice house.”

“‘Nice’ people don’t hang out with a Gaunt.”

“I do.”

“You’re not nice.”

She poked him in the side and he laughed. Which drew more attention.

“Just one?” she asked. “I won’t even leave witnesses.”

“No.”

“Fine.” She hugged his arm. “Guess that just means I get you all to myself.”

“Oh, no. How terrible.”

They reached Hogsmeade and the Three Broomsticks in short order, Sirona happily throwing them at a table upstairs.

“Not as noisy up here,” Aurelia said as Ominis seated her.

“No, she’s very good about remembering her clientele’s likes and dislikes.”

A girl came to take their order–the house special was shepherd’s pie–and Aurelia sat back with a sigh.

“May I ask you something?” she asked.

“Of course.”

“I’ve had some…run-ins with a few Slytherins in the past.”

“It won’t happen again.”

“You don’t even know who it was.”

“I don’t have to.”

“Mmm. That’s actually what I wanted to ask. No one’s bothered me since I started eating breakfast with you and I don’t hear anyone from Slytherin talk badly about you.”

“Because Slytherins don’t show dissent in public.” He smiled and it felt more like his politician’s smile from Gringotts. “We already have a reputation as the ‘evil’ house. It would be social suicide to turn on each other where others could see.”

“Salazar was a twat but I’ve heard plenty of Gryffindors and Ravenclaws spout the same sh*t. Leander comes to mind. What’s the difference?”

His head shifted, just a little, and she had the absurd thought of a snake sensing prey.

“Unfortunately,” he said. “Prejudice isn’t limited to one’s uniform. The social climate now demands that prejudice be hidden in subtle digs and creatively interpreted laws that are, of course, only for the protection of the less fortunate. Salazar being so open is considered in bad taste so even if other houses do share those views, it’s gauche to say so out loud. I guarantee they heard their parents say such things behind closed doors and are just too stupid to keep it to themselves here at school. They think they’re ‘safe.’”

The girl came back with two mugs of apple cider and their steaming shepherd’s pies. Aurelia’s stomach growled.

“Don’t tell me you didn’t eat again,” Ominis said.

“All right.”

“Darling.”

“Honey.” She took a careful bite of a carrot and still burnt her tongue. Dammit. “I was just excited about the book.”

He shot her a look as he began to eat.

“I don’t feel guilty anymore,” she said. “I feel less guilty. Saving the school helped.”

“You don’t have to save the school every time you want some toast. You’re not putting anyone out.”

“Hey, I’ve been getting better.”

He sighed.

“You have,” he said. “I just worry.”

“I know. Just like I worry about our classmates talking sh*t about you.” All right, she needed to get Sirona’s recipe for this. Something in the gravy she used.

“It’s all learned.” He took a sip of cider. “But enough of that. Tell me more about your color theory.”

“Are you sure? It’s really boring.”

“It’s really not.” He smiled. “Go on. Sometimes it can help to talk it out.”

“All right.” She took another bite of her pie. Definitely needed the recipe.

Chapter 14

Chapter Text

Monday, Aurelia took note of every spell cast, every caster, their brightness, the brightness of the spell itself, and its color. The colors of the caster’s core, the spool in their torso, tended to flare just before the caster said the spell, which made her think it was tied to intent. They were thinking about casting so their magic responded. That would be really helpful in duels–if she could narrow the colors down to that level of detail.

A goal to strive for. Another goal was her endurance. Using the Sight that intensely for that long gave her a massive headache by the end of Charms, making it so she could barely manage any lunch. Frustrating, especially when she could just call lightning down from the sky, but maybe it was the pace of it. Throwing a ball was a lot different from holding a ball up for four hours.

She decided to wait Look at Defense on Wednesday. Mondays were for lectures anyway and Professor Hecat made a point last week to talk about footwork and body language. Much like in Dahlia’s lessons, body language and shifts in weight could mean the difference between being able to respond and getting injured. Aurelia would pay attention to that first, give herself a break today, then Look at the casts next class.

By her free period, Aurelia felt well enough to work on her Transfiguration paper about transforming inanimate objects and its limitations. She was going to sail through the demonstration for that one, given all the furniture she made for her Room. Maybe she could practice making something else? Kill two birds with one stone? Maybe something for the shop. She could fine-tune her detail work, embroidery, beading, inlay…She made a note to ask Penny what would sell the best. Something easy this month then she’d work her way up.

Finally, the bell rang for dinner. Spelling her scroll dry, she gathered all her things and trudged down to the Great Hall. She must’ve taken longer than she thought though because Professor Weasley was up at the podium, talking about the Halloween Ball. sh*t, Aurelia had forgotten all about that. Which was a feat in and of itself considering the halls buzzed any given moment.

“Get lost in your books again?” Poppy asked.

“Sometimes I think they’re more dangerous than beasts.” Aurelia smiled at her, the effort of the day catching up with her. “How are you?”

“Good, good. Hey, how did your date with Ominis go last night? I didn’t get a chance to ask.”

“It wasn’t a date. We just went to dinner. And it was fun. He listened to me prattle on about my projects for two hours, we got some candy, then we came back.”

“Aww.” Poppy smiled and leaned into her shoulder. “I don’t think you were prattling if he was listening that long. Think somebody fancies you.”

“Uh-huh. Are you going to the Halloween Ball?”

“Yes. Oh! I forgot; it was before you got here. I talked to the prefects about Hufflepuff doing mythical beasts for our house costumes and they loved it!”

“That’s great. Congrats. What house costumes?”

“Every year is a theme,” another girl said. “This year, it’s mythology and every house picks a sub-genre of costumes.”

“Well, everyone but Gryffindor,” Adelaide said. “They kind of just do whatever they want.”

“Pure chaos,” Poppy said. “But there are so many mythological beasts to choose from, either beasts that actually don’t exist or magical beasts that muggles think are mythical, and you can get so creative with it.”

“I’m excited to see what you come up with,” Aurelia said. “Proud of you. I know you don’t like talking to people.”

“I’m working on it. If I’m going to open a sanctuary someday, I need to at least handle investors. And my staff.”

“Very smart.” Aurelia took a bite of…whatever meat was in front of her and tried not to sigh. She’d wanted to do some more work after dinner but maybe she should turn in early instead.

“We can work on your costumes in the Common Room!”

Yes, she was definitely going to bed after this.

*

“Good morning, Miss Greengrass,” Aurelia said.

“Sit down, Green,” Dahlia said. “We’ve a lot to cover.”

Her tone had Aurelia in the chair in an instant, parchment and quill ready.

“What are the basic needs for planning an event?” Dahlia asked.

“Oh, uh, venue, food, entertainment, and itinerary.”

“Yes. Funerals, like any other event, require the same thing.” The blonde stood and started writing on the chalkboard–by hand this time. Aurelia suddenly felt sick.

“The problem with such things,” Dahlia went on. “Is that most men have no interest in planning events so it falls to the Lady of the House. And as funerals are upsetting, there’s even more reluctance to think of them. Everyone’s wrapped up in the performance of being sad that they don’t care about particulars.”

She turned around, one hand still on the board as she started with the list.

“That’s where we come in. Regarding process, it’s very similar to a wedding. First, venue. Anticipate the number of guests and make sure there are lavatories, travel accommodations, changing rooms, food–you remember what’s necessary in planning a menu?”

“Y-yes. Season, time of day, occasion, guest list, guests’ preferences and allergies.”

“Good. There’s also music and schedule to consider. Traditional Pureblood funerals have an altar to whatever god or goddess the witch or wizard declared to–”

“You believe in gods?”

Dahlia blinked.

“What?”

“Well, I…” Aurelia cleared her throat. “Muggles, at least Christian muggles, are taught that there’s only one God and all other deities from all other religions are just demons seducing the heathen masses to hell. Witches are supposed to have sold their souls to Satan and since you don’t believe in Satan…”

Dahlia closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose.

“All right,” she said. “We’ll back up. In the Old Days, magic, religion, and culture were all one. Most wizarding communities followed nature religions, which is where our reverence for the four elements comes from. We also venerate a multitude of deities. Pureblood families have patrons chosen by the founder of their House and, traditionally, a young witch or wizard will follow a series of steps to declare for the deity of their choosing. Most will follow the theme of their House. For instance, the Gaunts are very fond of water deities. Marvolo actually claimed Poseidon as his patron, if you can believe it.”

She could.

“So religion is important to Purebloods,” Aurelia said.

“As important as it is to anyone else. That is to say, for some it is simply for show or just something that’s done. A few genuinely worship someone but that varies witch to witch. If a witch is not old enough to have declared, we will use the deity of her mother–or father, if it’s a wizard too young to declare.”

And now Aurelia was ready to throw up again.

“What happened? Is Anne–”

“Bedridden but alive.” Dahlia’s face tightened. “If we wait until we need to think about this, it will be too late. Keep taking notes.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Where was I? Itinerary.” Dahlia waved her hand and a schedule appeared on the other half of the chalkboard outlining procession, rituals, songs, and a few terms Aurelia wasn’t familiar with. True to form though, Dahlia went through it all–quickly but in detail.

Her voice only cracked once, when she moved to speaking about how to prepare the body. Aurelia tried not to imagine it, tried not to picture Anne’s thin, grey form in a white dress…

“You compared this to weddings,” Aurelia said. “Does that mean it’s going to be a show as well?”

“Unfortunately. I’m working on it. I’ll let you know when I figure it out.” Dahlia came around to lean on the front of the teacher’s desk, arms and ankles crossed. “We both know what we’re talking about so I’ll cut right to the chase. This will destroy Ominis. You know this.”

“Yes. Tell me how to help.”

“You’re a fighter so I need you to fight. You will be on his ass from the moment we’re notified. Whatever state he’s in, you will be the one that makes sure he’s wearing what he’s supposed to wear, standing where he’s supposed to stand when he’s supposed to stand there. You will make sure he eats and gets plenty of water and if anyone tries to start anything, you will put them down like the dogs they are. Do you understand?”

“Yes, ma’am. What about…?”

That tight look again, her perfectly drawn lips pressed together.

“Mother has submitted a request to the Ministry for a furlough but…we aren’t hopeful.”

“sh*t.”

“Yes.”

Aurelia looked down at her notes, swallowed, looked back up.

“How do I need to behave?”

“Polite and just this side of submissive.” Dahlia’s heels clicked as she started pacing and Aurelia got out more paper.

*

Potions. One of the other students was out with a broken leg so his deskmate took notes for him. Aurelia would need that once the call came through. And she’d need to notify the teachers. Should she write them letters? Prepare them? Dahlia ordered her to keep her mouth shut about the lesson; no need to worry Ominis unnecessarily. But they would both need someone to take notes and keep track of school work while they were gone. Perhaps she could write some letters and just keep them on standby, ready to send at a moment’s notice. Was there a way for letters to just appear or would she have to use owls?

“All right, darling?” Ominis asked.

“Yes. Sorry.” She smiled. “Dahlia was…intense…this morning.”

“She is formidable.” He wasn’t buying it. She could tell in the set of his mouth, the tension in his shoulders.

“Girl stuff,” she said quietly. “I don’t want to talk about it right now.” Closer to the truth, close enough for him to let it go.

“All right. I’ll just get the ingredients, shall I?”

“Yes, please. I’ll set up the cauldron.”

Imelda Reyes was in this class. She was a bit of a bitch but she was thorough. She’d probably agree to at least take notes for Ominis and Aurelia could just get a copy later. She’d ask Dahlia next class.

Art wasn’t a problem, Natty would work for Defense, she had Poppy in Transfiguration, and…sh*t, Garreth wasn’t big on notes. Who else was in Charms with her? And what about Alchemy? If Dahlia was this involved, it stood to reason that Aran probably would be too, if for nothing else than to help her. She’d have to check. The Alchemy class was so small…

And she should let Professor Garlick know as Head of Hufflepuff. And Headmistress Weasley.

“Oh, she did do a number on you.” Ominis came back with their supplies and cast his bubblehead charm. “Do you need to take a moment?”

“No, I’ll be fine. Thank you.” Focus, dammit. She couldn’t solve anything here anyway so she took a breath and focused on prepping the ingredients.

Lunch wasn’t much better. She was no closer to figuring out Charms and Alchemy but she did dig into her planner. Working ahead wouldn’t be a terrible idea. At least as much as she could. They’d cover new material for those assignments but she could at least get a rough draft for a good number of the papers, find some resources. That was the hardest part anyway, getting something down.

So. Six classes, three free periods, and weekends. Art was easy; one good session in the library and she could knock that out. She could do that Thursday when the library was mostly empty.

“You worried about N.E.W.Ts already?” Adelaide asked.

“No.” Aurelia blinked, offering a small smile. “No, just trying to figure out my homework schedule. My time management seems to have gotten away from me.”

“Ugh. Well, if you figure it out, let me know. Between homework and Quidditch tryouts, I haven’t the time to take a nap, much less have a social life.”

Quidditch. The first match was the first week in November and would carry through the rest of the year. That would leave the libraries open those nights too. Oh, but Aurelia didn’t have all her syllabi with her. No matter. As soon as she got back to Hufflepuff, she’d figure out what to do when for at least the rest of the term. Dahlia didn’t seem too urgent Tuesday, implying they had a bit of time. If Aurelia could get second term work started too, that would be ideal but she’d have to see.

Nodding, she closed her planner with a snap.

*

“Hey, Green.” Garreth leaned closer. “Got a date for the Halloween Ball?”

“No…” She frowned at her energy chart. Was it upside down? Something didn’t look right. “No, I wasn’t planning on going.”

“Aw, but it’ll be so much fun! Wanna be my date?”

Oh, it was sideways. Right? No, that made it worse.

She blinked and looked up at Garreth.

“…what?”

“Do you want to be my date for the Halloween Ball?”

She opened and closed her mouth a few times then frowned, her mind well and truly blank. Garreth gave her an expectant look and as the moment stretched, the look bordered on impatient.

“I…Can I say ‘no’?” she asked at last.

“Yeah.”

“Then…no…”

The bell rang, she grabbed her sh*t, and ran.

*

“I’m such an idiot!” Aurelia moaned into their Defense desk. “I sat there for what must’ve been two minutes just staring at him like a fish. ‘Can I say no,’ what the f*ck!” She looked up at Natty. “Why am I like this?”

Natty laughed and rubbed a hand up and down her back.

“It’s all right,” she said. “Everyone has moments like that. I promise. In a few days, you won’t even remember.”

“I remember every time I make myself cringe.”

“Well, he won’t. Just act normal, he’ll take his cue from you, and everything will be fine.”

“You think so?”

“Oh, yes. Remember, he’s my housemate. He’s a bit daft but overall a good boy. Not the type to keep on if you say ‘no.’”

“That’s good. You don’t think I hurt his feelings?”

“No, he’ll be fine.” Natty tilted her head. “Do you have a date for the Halloween Ball?”

“No. Wasn’t planning on it.”

“Oh. I would’ve thought you’d be going with Gaunt.”

“Oh.” Aurelia sat up and started wrestling her hair into a ponytail. “No, we’re just friends.”

“Friends can be each other’s dates. A group of us girls are going just for the fun of it. You’re welcome to join if you like.”

“I might do that. Thank you. Are you dressing up?”

“Of course.” Natty lit up at the idea. “What’s the point of such a holiday if you can’t dress up in the most outlandish thing possible?”

“What are you going as?”

“Oh, no, that is a surprise. What about you?”

“I’m not telling.” Aurelia primly stuck her nose in the air. “Because I have no idea.”

They both laughed, easy and light like she’d never had before.

“I’m sure you’ll look amazing no matter what you pick,” Natty said. “Provided there are no world-ending disasters between now and then.”

“Don’t jinx me like that.”

*

“Dance class number two,” Dahlia said. “Today, you will practice with a partner.”

A flourish of her hand and Ominis stepped into the middle of the room dressed in a heather gray, three-piece suit.

“What?!” Aurelia squeaked. “I mean.” She cleared her throat. “Is that necessary?”

“Good morning to you too,” Ominis said, a little smirk on his face. She shot him a glare. He seemed taller…broader?

“You’ll have to dance with a man at some point,” Dahlia said. “Unless you intend to just sit in the corner of every party.”

“Well–”

“Not an option.” She pushed Aurelia towards Ominis. “I was being facetious. Waltz first. Take your position.”

Aurelia didn’t quite gulp but it was a near thing and she had no idea why. It was just Ominis. It was just a practical exercise. Which was good. She learned best by doing.

So why were her hands shaking?

The music started, a simple one-two-three beat Aurelia could identify. Ominis bowed with a hand behind his back.

“May I have this dance, Miss Green?” He smiled, holding out his hand, and Aurelia felt her stomach swoop. She forced a smile. Honestly, what was wrong with her?

“Of course, Mr. Gaunt.” She took his hand then suddenly she was right in front of him, feeling his body heat, his arm around her. Had his hands always been so large? Just one covered nearly her entire shoulder-blade.

His smirk widened.

“All right,” he said. “I’ll count us in. Don’t worry. I won’t step on you.”

Her heart pounded.

“Right.”

And suddenly they were moving. Her movements were stilted, her feet clunky while he moved with a grace she’d never seen from him before. And the more mistakes she made, the more frustrated she got.

“You’re grinding your teeth again,” he said.

“Sorry.”

“No one’s perfect at the beginning. Old families put their children in dance courses when they’re three.”

“It’s just stupid–sorry.” Damn, she kept f*cking up. She’d been doing fine last lesson but now, with a boy, she was a baby mooncalf. Worse. Baby mooncalves could at least run in the first hour. “I can move out in the field just fine.”

“Instinct is always easier. You’re also in control instead of in here, where it’s my responsibility to navigate the floor.” He tilted his head, that damned smirk still in the corner of his mouth. “Are you blushing?”

“No! God, shut up. It’s just dance practice.”

“Mm-hmm. Is that why your heart’s racing?”

“I will throw you over my shoulder and not break my heels.”

He laughed, a light, happy sound that made her stomach swoop again. f*ck.

“Has she taught you turns yet?” he asked.

f*ck.

“Yes.”

“All right. And in one, two, three…”

*

Ominis was still giggling about it in Potions class.

“Having a good time there?” Aurelia asked.

“Yes, actually.” He started getting out his book and supplies, now back in his regular uniform. “How are you this fine morning?”

“Seriously considering making your cauldron explode.”

“Oh, come now. Is it so awful to admit I’m attractive?”

She looked up at the ceiling. If she was careful, maybe she could just make certain tiles fall.

“Honestly, I think it’s rather adorable,” Ominis said. “You can face trolls and dire wolves yet one dance with me has you flustered.”

“Baffling. The trolls were much more appealing.”

He snigg*red.

“Fine,” he said. “I’ll stop. How would you like to divide the tasks today?”

“I’ll get the supplies. You figure out how to set up the assembly line.”

“All right.”

Felix Felicitus today, a complicated potion considered a controlled substance in the wider world yet somehow appropriate to teach teenagers. Complicated was good though. It let her focus on the steps, procedures, and timing instead of that absolutely mortifying dance class. God, she couldn’t even tell if she’d gotten better or if Dahlia just called it out of pity.

And Ominis…She grabbed the last jar of beetle eyes and headed back to their table with her tray. They were friends. He was just trying to help. And if she could get over her nerves and forget how warm his hands were through her dress, she’d be more than willing to admit that. She just…

“What a limp little bird you are. At least your mouth can be used for something.”

“Flat as a board.”

“Look at that rat’s nest! You call that hair?”

“Hey, pretty thing, come here.”

“God have mercy, look at the scar!”

She winced, setting down the tray a little too hard. If it wasn’t someone staring at the scar on her face, it was someone going after the girl in the next seat at school or someone laughing about the boy with a limp down the road. It hurt. She hadn’t been targeted any more than anyone else but what she did hear made her feel worthless and ugly. Even though she had no reason to believe whatever those assholes said because they were assholes and she knew that.

Dammit.

“Ominis.”

“Yes?” He turned, face serious. He’d heard her tone.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I was…embarrassed. I didn’t mean to make you feel…You’re very…I don’t want you to think you’re not…” She sighed, rubbing her face. “I’m sorry I was a bitch.”

He smiled gently.

“I didn’t take it personally,” he said. “We’re all right.”

“You’re sure?”

“I’m sure. Here. I think I have a strategy.”

“Show me.”

Chapter 15

Chapter Text

As deskmates went, Aran Malfoy was a perfect gentleman. He was honest when he spoke to her, patient when she asked questions, and considerate of the space he took up. Aurelia was grateful for the quiet. It let her mind rest, something she desperately needed given the stakes for this class.

As for the class itself, Aurelia ate up everything she could. Every experiment covered had some kind of legend or belief fueling the thought to begin with and those legends gave her starting points for her own research. The myths about world-eaters were particularly interesting. World-eaters, sin-eaters, soul-devourers. Flipping ahead in her book showed those types of stories in almost every culture. Even something as primal as the sun and moon were devoured and reborn every night.

But that was getting too far ahead. First, she had to identify what the pain magic was in alchemical terms so she’d have something to work with. Then she’d have to figure out its properties and nature then she could figure out disposal. Taoism had some promising leads on essences and Vedic alchemy mentioned ‘mercurial manipulation.’ She was hopeful that could give her a lead on what numbers and elements to use.

As for the end game, the Thargelia Festival was…upsetting. According to her reading, the festival itself was to honor Apollo and a scapegoat was chosen to carry the bad luck away from the city. Someone–a person, not an actual animal–was chosen to take the blame for whatever was going wrong at the time, war, famine, natural disasters. Some writings said that a king should volunteer as the more important the ‘pharmakos,’ the higher the chance the gods would hear him. Of course, no one in power would actually volunteer so someone else was drafted: peasants, criminals, someone people wouldn’t miss. From there, the pharmakos would have a range of awful things done to them. Exile from their home city was the best option. Others were chased and whipped, stoned to death, thrown off a cliff, or burned with their ashes spread over farmland or thrown into the sea.

It was those cases, and some of the language, that made her wonder if maybe something else had been going on and that was why they had to die. There was also the original ritual in Leviticus that she’d used for her proposal. The high priest laid all the sins of the people on a live goat and shunted it off to the wilderness to die. According to the pastors, that was the ritual Jesus fulfilled during the crucifixion. Another innocent man taking on the pain of everyone, dying, and taking it with him.

Both rituals had the same thought and the same goal, which was likely why Professor Avicenna suggested the Greek side. He was big on corroborating concepts across different cultures, said it was a way to validate parts of the human experience.

The rituals themselves presented two ideas. One, there was a way to take sins from one person and put it in another and two, there was a way for that pain to be completely disposed of. What if ‘sin’ wasn’t the act of wrongdoing? What if it was what they felt about it? Guilt, shame, hurt. Confession didn’t make the bad thing go away. Him admitting that He killed his uncle didn’t bring Solomon back from the dead. It just made Him feel less burdened because He wasn’t also keeping a secret.

So if it was the emotions tied to the sin/disaster/bad luck and not the sin itself, then Isidora had already proven the first idea was possible. The pain was out of the body and had already been put somewhere else: the repositories. The amount she’d collected, though, was more on the scale of ‘Jesus and the World’ than ‘Apollo and Athens.’ Aurelia already knew she had to make the repository smaller if she was going to move it. Shrinking it would also make it easier to dispose of–if she could find an ethical way of doing so. Some alchemists used mannequins for their experiments. Would that work? Would it react the same way? Did the scapegoats’ bodies absorb the sin and render it harmless or did it just go away when they died?

And how the f*ck was she supposed to turn all of that into an equation Avicenna could actually understand? She needed real numbers so he could tell her if she was making a mistake.

“You have an interesting mind, Miss Green,” Aran said at the end of one class.

“What makes you say that?”

He glanced down at her notes and the dozens of lines she’d scribbled in the margins after she ran out of room.

“Did I hear you tell the professor you were trying to prove a point?” he asked. “Ominis is thorough but I doubt he’d make you take an entire class to get proof.”

“Maybe not but I want it to be more than just my word against his. I want someone else to be able to confirm what I learned.”

Which actually wasn’t a bad idea in general. Ominis accepted that she could See magic differently because he knew Something Else had happened last year but she couldn’t rely on that for other people. More, she didn’t want to. Too many people knew her business as it was. That meant she needed to be able to explain what she did in terms they already knew, systems and types of magic that they already accepted as trustworthy.

Like using alchemy to explain pain magic. The pain magic existed; that wasn’t the problem. It was translating it.

“It’s taking longer than I’d like,” she said. “But I’ve always had that problem.”

Aran gave her a quietly amused smile, gesturing for her to go through the door first.

“‘Waiting’ isn’t the same as ‘standing still,’” he said. “Something I have to remind myself of quite often.”

She nodded.

“Thank you, Mr. Malfoy. I’ll…try to remember that.”

“It takes practice.”

*

“Today, we will work on using the environment.”

Professor Hecat loved her and Natty’s idea of using muggle legends as frameworks for the Dark Creature papers. As long as they used different legends, which was no problem as Natty had an entire childhood of African fairy tales to choose from. Aurelia, on the other hand, had to sneak off to London and find secondhand novels and penny dreadfuls from newsstands.

She didn’t tell Ominis or anyone else about those trips. She wasn’t sure why, exactly. It was just…nice to go somewhere alone sometimes. He would’ve…

“Pair up, class,” Professor Hecat said. “The person in front of you this time, not next to you.”

Aurelia and Natty shrugged at each other and stepped off to one side of the room. The two students behind them, Gryffindors she didn’t recognize, faced off against them. Aurelia let her vision Shift. Her opponent favored Transfiguration spells, cool threads winding through his body. Lots of greens, enchantments, and a fair amount of purples, transmutation. But there were a few strong threads of red, which meant shields, at the very least.

She adjusted her stance. Crates dotted the room, all within reach of someone to use. Summoning and repelling charms fell under conjuration, blue threads. Her opponent used some; Natty’s opponent used more. Aurelia would probably use the crates more than her opponent but she’d have to be careful of rebound. She knew better than anyone that shields could be offensive if thrown up at the right time and if she got hit with her own spells, that would leave her open to getting turned into a duck or something.

A blink and her Sight faded.

“Wands ready!”

She softened her knees, wand loose in her hand. His weight was on his back leg, his wand held about waist-height. Heavy on his feet.

“And begin!”

He didn’t move though his eyes kept darting to the different crates. Aurelia took a slow step sideways and he instantly threw up a shield. So. He was waiting for her to cast first. All right. She flicked a crate at him, he blocked, and the crate broke into a dozen or so pieces. He pushed the pieces towards her, a weak Depulso, and she ducked just as he followed up with a spell that turned the flag behind her into a ball. A shudder ran down her spine. Just the idea of being transformed into an object and left like that…

God, it would be so handy to just cast Confringo and have done but that was a curse and she’d promised Ominis that she’d get used to using other spells. Time to get creative then.

*

“Miss Green.” Ominis’ smooth voice snapped her spine straight in the hallway. “A word, please.”

sh*t sh*t sh*t, how can something as simple as tone make her feel like a little girl getting in trouble?

“Of course, Mr. Gaunt. Lead the way.”

“Aurelia?” Poppy asked.

“I’ll catch up,” Aurelia said. “This will only take a moment.”

“Yes, just a moment.” Ominis smiled in Poppy’s direction then led the way to an empty classroom.

“Oh, want to start those rumors up again?”

“Funny you should mention that.” He turned, one hand casually flipping the lock, and started walking closer. “Had an interesting talk with
Dahlia this morning. Anne’s doing quite poorly, I’m afraid. The winter chill makes her joints flare up, you see, and it gets hard for her to breathe.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. Is there anything we can send–”

“Now is not the time to practice your silver tongue, Miss Green. How long have you known?”

“Ominis…”

“That’s why you were so upset in Potions. Dahlia told you. What else did she say?”

“Ominis, calm down.” She backed away, stumbling slightly on a desk. “We didn’t want you to panic over something that might not mean anything. Winter is bad for any injury.”

“What did she say?” He caged her against the wall, the sleeves of his robe falling like walls around her. She could feel his body heat through her uniform. “Awful communication is what led to so much trouble last year so I will ask you a final time: what did she say?”

“We talked about funerals.”

He closed his eyes and lowered his head almost to her shoulder.

“What else?”

“Practicals, mostly. Planning, scheduling. My–my role.”

“Your role.” He lifted his head, eyes intense despite the haze. If he could actually make eye-contact, she was sure she’d be burning. “And what is your role, Miss Green?”

“You. I’m to take care of you.”

His mouth pressed into a tight line, the muscle in his jaw twitching. He took a long, slow breath through his nose.

“I understand keeping information from a child,” he said. “Too young to cope with the reality. Do you see me as a child?”

“No.” God, no.

“Then you must think me stupid or simple.”

“Ominis, stop.”

“I’m trying very, very hard not to lose my temper. After everything we’ve gone through, all the time we spent together, for you to keep something like this from me hurts.”

“I-I was–I just–” She swallowed. “I’m sorry. Dahlia said…but I should’ve…I’m sorry.”

He tilted his head slightly, listening, before finally stepping back.

“No more. Honesty and loyalty goes both ways.”

He left.

*

Aurelia took as long as humanly possible to get to Potions, sliding in as the bell finished chiming. Professor Sharp jumped right into the lecture, thank god, and Aurelia focused on getting out her things and taking notes.

Then the lecture ended and it was time to brew.

“Aurelia,” Ominis said softly. He reached for her wrist but stopped just short. “I’m sorry. No matter my feelings, I shouldn’t have crowded you like that. It won’t happen again.”

She swallowed hard, body still humming.

“Thank you.” It wasn’t fear, not really, but she’d never forget the look on his face when he said she’d hurt him. “I’m sorry I thought I knew better. You’re right. You’re not a child and I should respect you enough to not take your choice from you.”

“And I shouldn’t have taken out my fear of reliving last year out on you. I know how hard you’ve worked to be better.”

“Thank you.”

“Still friends?”

“Of course.”

He nodded, shoulders still tense, and started setting up their cauldrons. She took the time getting ingredients to calm her breathing. Still nauseous. God, she hated confrontation. Fights, sure, she’d throw a chair at anyone but actually saying what she meant and letting their words land…

Potions. They had work to do. Clearing her throat, she brought back their tray of supplies and started divvying up the jars. Ominis hummed.

“What?” she asked.

“We never exchanged birthday presents.”

“Oh. No, I guess we didn’t. I have yours in my Room.”

“Yours is in mine. After dinner?”

“After dinner.”

He nodded, tapping a finger on the table.

“That conversation would’ve gone so differently with Sebastian.”

“Lot more yelling?”

“And possibly some fisticuffs, yes. Nothing resolved, just loud, angry words we didn’t mean that had nothing to do with the actual issue.”

“Well, boys are dumb. Thank you for starting the fires.”

“Thank you for getting the ingredients.” He touched her wrist. “I’ll do better.”

“I will too.” She squeezed his hand. “Now cast your bubble. First ingredient is bog peat.”

“God, I hope there aren’t any teeth in it this time.”

*

“But when I close my eyes*
The miles melt away
Like you’re here in my arms
At the end of the day…”

“That’s pretty.”

Aurelia jumped with a scream.

“Ominis! Really?! Was that really necessary?”

“Necessary? No.” Ominis grinned as he entered her Room. “But it was fun.”

“Asshole.”

“Honestly, I thought you’d hear the door open. You really should work on that. Situational awareness is very important, especially for someone in your position.”

“You mean the position of throwing you into the nearest potted plant? That position?”

“I have your present.”

“Sir.” She had the Room give them a fireplace in the sitting room and a big, fluffy couch with plenty of blankets. “Are you trying to bribe your way into my good graces?”

“Blatantly. Is it working?”

“Yes. C’mere.” She grabbed her present for him then dragged him over to the couch and threw a blanket on his lap. “All right. And one, two, three.”

They both held out their presents and Aurelia laughed.

“I think we had the same idea,” she said.

“I don’t mind that.” He smiled, taking her present. “Open it.”

“You too. Don’t put me on the spot like that.” She carefully unwrapped the pretty mauve paper to reveal a large, red book embossed with gold. “Greek Mythology, thank you!” She threw her arms around him. “Oh, it’s gorgeous! Now I can understand what you’re talking about when it’s too early to translate the names.”

He laughed, squeezing her.

“Many happy returns, darling. It suits?”

“It’s perfect. Now open yours.” She’d cheated, slipping his present into a soft, purple drawstring bag, and she watched him tip the book into his hand.

“It’s already in braille?” he asked. “That’s so sweet. ‘Pride and Prejudice’?”

“A muggle romance. The narrator, Lizzie, is almost as snarky as you are.”

He chuckled, running light fingers over the cover.

“Thank you, darling. I love it.”

“You’re sure? Because if you were lying to me about hiding romance novels in your Potions slipcover, I can get you something else.”

“You will do no such thing.” He held the book to his chest. “A very dear friend gave this to me and you shan’t take it away.”

“Oh, shan’t I?”

“No.” He reached for her with a smile and gave her a tight hug. “I love it.”

“Good. Many happy returns, Ominis.”

“Thank you.” He ran a hand over the cover again. “I should head back. Would you like me to walk you to Hufflepuff?”

“Actually, I’ve got some work in here to do. I’ll head back in a while.”

He gave her a look.

“I promise,” she said. “Just had some thoughts I need to get down before I lose them.”

“Mmm. All right.” He stood, holding his new book close, and she walked him to the door. “I’ll see you in the morning then. Good night, darling.”

“Good night.” She shut the door then picked her new book up with a sigh. Later. She was a little behind schedule; that stupid Potions paper had taken longer than she would’ve liked. Two more papers tonight then she’d turn in, read a chapter or two of Greek Myths before bed.

“All right.” She stretched, popping her back, and headed to her desk.

Chapter 16

Chapter Text

The entire school clamoured about the Halloween Ball, everyone talking about costumes and dates and whatever pranks they were going to try. Hufflepuff, of course, had mythological creatures thanks to Poppy, Slytherin chose Greco-Roman characters, and Ravenclaw picked obscure, ‘are they real or not’ stories.

“And what’s Gryffindor again?” Aurelia asked. “Did you tell me already?”

“We’re whatever the hell we want,” Garreth said. “To my knowledge, Gryffindor house only agreed on a theme twice in its entire history, once during the Black Plague when everyone had fake boils and another time in the 1700s where everyone dressed as Indian braves.”

Well, there wasn’t enough time to unpack all of that so Aurelia just went on with her day and tried to think of what to do for a costume. Poppy’s excitement was infectious, the Ball possibly the first event she’d really been involved in, and her knowledge of beasts combined with some of the other students’ artistic skills made for some truly creative designs. Aurelia tried not to make too many comments about make or drape; she didn’t want to end up making everyone’s costumes.

Instead, she hid in the library or her Room during her spare time. She had a lot of work to do if she was going to be anywhere near prepared for…later. Maybe she should skip the ball? But it would be nice to have a break and it was only one night.

She waffled back and forth for days before settling on a costume–that she kept in her Room.

“Come on!” Poppy whined at dinner. “We’re all working on our costumes this weekend in the Common Room. We’ll miss you!”

“Oh, let me be mysterious,” Aurelia said.

“You’re nothing but mysterious!”

Finally, the night of the ball arrived and Hufflepuff traipsed down together with horns and wings and lashing tails. Poppy had chosen a chimera, the goat and snake heads on her shoulders each a different color and moving independently. Other Puffs breathed smoke or fire or hovered a few inches above the ground. Some even had magically grown scales and feathers.

Aurelia had a split second to feel a little plain over her costume but the twist in her gut vanished when Poppy and Adelaide squealed and pounced.

“You look amazing!” Poppy cried. “What is it?”

“Thank you,” Aurelia said, smiling. “You do too. It’s the Nemean Lion, an indestructible creature from Ancient Greece.”

“Love it.”

By then, they’d made it to the Great Hall and it was so loud with the roars and squeals that Aurelia could barely hear the music. Inside, the room had been transformed into a vast hall of polished marble with clouds in the sky and circular tables set around a fair-sized dance floor. The band played on the teachers’ dais and a long table of drinks ran along one side.

“Come on!”

“Let’s dance!”

“Last one to the dance floor is a rotten egg!”

Laughing, Aurelia let herself get pulled along with the crowd, dancing with no rhythm and not giving a sh*t about it.

“There you are, Green.” Leander got into their circle somehow, covered in gold cloth, gold paint, and a crown of gold spikes. He took her hand, spinning her into his arms. “And who might you be?”

“The Nemean Lion.” She took a step away. His hand felt lower on her back than it should. “If he killed Hercules instead.”

“Ah, I wondered why there weren’t any strangle marks.” He grinned. “We can fix that, if you like.”

The f*ck? She looked over his shoulder, trying to step further back, put some more distance between them, but his arm was annoyingly solid. And damp. sh*t, if he was getting paint on her costume…

“And you?” she asked. “Who are you supposed to be?”

“Apollo, Greek god of the sun and poetry. And you, my dear, are very inspirational.” His hand slid lower. Her stomach twisted.

“Thank you,” she said.

“The pleasure is all mine. Hey, after this, why don’t–”

“Prewett.” A large hand came down hard on Leander’s shoulder. “May I cut in?”

A tall boy with dark hair and an easy smile stepped up, a green laurel wreath on his head and a toga of the finest white linen she’d ever seen. Wait. He was in her Transfiguration class, right?

“There you are!” She smiled brightly. “Leander, you don’t mind, do you?”

She reached for the other boy and he expertly got her into his arms.

“There’s a good chap.” The boy winked at Leander and twirled her away.

“Thank you,” she said. “I’m sorry. I don’t remember–?”

“Benedict Thompson,” he said. “Slytherin, attending tonight as Dionysus.” His hand stayed at her shoulder blade and she couldn’t feel his sweat through his tunic. She took a breath.

“Thank you. I had no idea he was such an entitled Pureblood.” She blinked, winced. “Sorry. You’re probably…”

“Yes and yes,” he said with a laugh. “But I prefer my partners enthusiastic, not cringing. Did I hear you say you were the Nemean Lion? It’s very well done. Where did you have it made?”

“I made it myself. Didn’t think to add any moving parts though.” She glanced around at the dance floor. Away from the badger pack, she could see knights, devils, furry monsters of some kind, angels, and gods. Although…

She looked back at Benedict and his costume.

“Slytherin looks more like you’re just…dressed,” she said. “Less like costumes.”

“Good.” He smiled. “Dahlia and Aran will be pleased to hear that.”

“And who did the King and Queen dress up as?”

“Hades and Persephone. Do you know the story?”

“I think so? She was the Goddess of Spring, right?”

“Yes, Hades is the God of the Underworld, brother to Zeus, the King of the Gods. One day, he saw Persephone, a Goddess of Spring–some versions say she was a nature spirit–and was so overcome with love that he whisked her away to the Underworld.”

She must’ve made a face of some kind, despite trying her best to behave, because Benedict laughed as he led her in a quick spin.

“That’s one version,” he said. “Another is that she ran away with him and they concocted a whole scheme to get their parents off their backs. I’m sure you can imagine which version Miss Greengrass prefers.”

He nodded over her shoulder and she turned to see Aran in layers of heavily embroidered black silk and Dahlia wearing a gown that looked like she’d wrapped herself in shadows and rose petals.

“Goddess of Spring and Goddess of Death,” she said.

“Fitting, isn’t it?” Another twirl. His hand stayed where it was supposed to. “I also wanted to thank you for being so kind to Gaunt.”

“You don’t have to thank me for that. Ominis is my friend.”

His smile this time looked a little more real and he stepped back when the song ended, all of them applauding the band.

“Would you like to eat with us?” he asked.

“Us?”

“Aran, Dahlia, Ominis, Imelda, a few others.”

“Oh. I…don’t want to impose…”

“It’s no imposition.” He grinned. “Actually, you’re perfectly on theme.”

She couldn’t help but grin back, a faint fluttering in her stomach.

“Well, in that case,” she said. “I’d love to.”

“Wonderful.” Offering his arm, he led her off the floor to a table near the back corner. Ominis sat with his back to the wall, sipping a drink, with a sweep of white linen hooking over one shoulder. Shoulders, she noticed, that were…damn. When did that happen?

“Look alive, Gaunt,” Benedict said. “We have a guest.”

“Hello, Ominis,” she said. Ominis immediately stood up. Ah. A linen tunic like Benedict’s but shorter, stopping above his knees.

“Aurelia,” he said, smiling. “Will you be joining us for dinner then?”

“If that’s all right.”

“Of course it is.” He pulled out the chair next to him, seating her, while Benedict claimed her other side.

“Miss Green said she made her costume herself,” Benedict said.

“That doesn’t surprise me at all.” Ominis sat back down, pouring her a drink–ah, a punch of some kind. “Tell me.”

“I’m the Nemean Lion,” she said. “It’s a gold–that doesn’t matter. It’s a silk dress with leather bracers and belts and shin guards and a waist cincher that I can’t breathe in.”

“And weapons,” Benedict said.

“Yes, I have some swords and axes hanging from my belt of heroes I’ve killed. And my hair’s up in braids with lots of leather and bits of bone and there’s fake blood down my front.”

“Because you won,” Ominis said, smirking.

“Because I won.”

Leander’s words came back to her and she crossed her legs. Not the first time she’d heard comments like that and, really, it wasn’t even that bad but it still made her feel…off.

“And who are you supposed to be?” she asked.

“Hermes.” Ominis reached up to touch the thin crown of gold leaves in his ash blonde hair. “Messenger and cupbearer of the gods. Also the god of travel, commerce, and orators.”

“And thieves,” Benedict said. “Watch your candy, Green. He’s a lot quicker than he lets on.”

“How dare you.”

“He can try,” Aurelia said. “I can stab your hand with the fork and not get any blood on the linen.”

Both boys laughed.

“Got your priorities straight,” Benedict said. “I like it. Ah, their majesties have returned.” He stood, prompting Ominis, as Aran, Dahlia, and a few others came back to the table. “I hope it’s all right. I invited Miss Green.”

“Of course it’s all right,” Dahlia said. “Although people might think you’re at the wrong table, what with that lion’s mane you’ve got going.”

“They’ll just have to deal with it,” Aurelia said. Dahlia smirked.

Dinner appeared on their plates, easy-to-eat bites of prettily arranged meat and vegetables, and Benedict kept up a running commentary of what they were eating and what traditions it fell under. Ominis chimed in now and then with a snarky comment that set off the table and had Aurelia snorting into her punch.

“You’re terrible,” she said at one point.

“You adore me.”

“Eh.” She knocked her knee against his. “I have to say though, I am very impressed with everyone’s outfits. They’re all so well-made. I was telling Benedict earlier; none of them look like costumes. They look like you all just stepped out of my mythology book.”

They all preened and thanked her, Dahlia sitting up a little straighter as if that was her due. Which it may well have been. The Queen couldn’t very well have a shoddy looking court.

“She’ll be insufferable now,” Ominis said with a grin.

“Oh, like you hate it.”

“I have never been this exposed in my life.”

“But the fabric feels good, doesn’t it?”

“Well, we weren’t all born with a platinum spoon in our mouth like Malfoy but we aren’t complete heathens.”

She laughed, taking a bite of her colcannon. God, that took her back.

Wait.

“Silver spoon,” she said.

“Pardon?”

“The phrase is ‘born with a silver spoon.’ Platinum spoons aren’t a thing.”

Now it was Ominis’ turn to blink.

“Doesn’t everyone use silver cutlery?” one of the others asked.

“Only the rich people,” Aurelia said. “We didn’t.”

“What did you use?” Someone else asked.

“Wrought iron. Like normal people.”

“You are lying,” Benedict said. “Wrought iron? Like for lamps?”

“Sure. What else were we going to use? Everything had to be made by hand and metal is expensive. Almost everything we had was made from repurposed railroad spikes.”

“You just stole the spikes out of the ground?!”

By now, she had the whole tables’ attention and she couldn’t help but laugh.

“No,” she said. “There’s trash everywhere. We just went out and found it. Had to make needles somehow.”

“Oh, I’m almost afraid to ask,” Dahlia said. “How would you have made this?” She gestured to her gown.

“The same way your tailor made it, I imagine. Just slower.”

“How much slower?” asked another girl dressed as a blonde with a lot of cleavage.

“For yours?” Aurelia studied the beadwork around her neck and shoulders. “Just by myself with no other projects, probably two months?”

“What? Why?”

“Because all those beads have to be sewn on by hand, love. Here.” She quickly transfigured her napkin into a stretch of fabric on an embroidery hoop and one of the forks into a needle, thread, and some beads. Then, as the table watched, she stitched a line of beads in the shape of a small flower.

“See?” She turned it so they could see. “Dahlia’s gown would probably take a year and four people, what with all the embroidery.”

“Gods,” a boy said. “How do mu–muggles get anything done?”

“Is it true they send people up chimneys?”

“What? That’s not real. You’re making that up.”

“No, seriously, I heard it from a Ravenclaw. And they don’t even have running water.”

Aurelia snickered as she set her hoop off to the side.

“If you think that’s strange,” she said. “You should hear what they do to Egyptian mummies.”

“Don’t tell me, don’t tell me.” Benedict narrowed his eyes. “They eat them.”

“Yes.”

The whole table erupted and she burst out laughing. From there, it was like she was holding court herself, every question leading to an answer more outrageous than the last. It was all true, of course, or as true as she could remember, but seeing these spoiled Purebloods crow and groan at every little thing just tickled her pink.

At one point, though, she felt Ominis turn a little closer, his frame more tense than she expected. She glanced at him, noting the slight furrow in his brow when one of the others laughed. Ah. She discreetly touched his wrist and he turned his hand so he could keep his thumb on her pulse. Her heart warmed.

“Done!” Benedict knocked back his pumpkin juice like it was liquor and stood. “No more arsenic, no more body snatching, no more dead frogs on Christmas cards. We are dancing like proper witches and wizards with real shoes and real music.”

“We had music,” Aurelia said. “We just had to use glass bottles sometimes to–”

“No! We’re done!” He grabbed her hand and stomped back to the dance floor with the rest of the table. Aurelia just laughed and went along. For once, there was no danger, no looming threat, and while she had things to worry about, tonight, she was among people she liked to think were friends.

Benedict danced with her first, still raving about mummies and flea circuses, then one of the others cut in, then another, then another.
By the end of the night, she’d danced with all the Slytherin boys and most of the girls, Natty, Poppy, and Garreth. Aurelia only got a break for dessert, a cheesecake she was very tempted to lick the plate for, then it was back to the floor.

“Last dance,” the band leader announced. “Last dance for the 1891 Halloween Ball!”

Aurelia headed straight back to the Slytherin table where Ominis sat, flushed from his own rounds on the floor.

“Mr. Gaunt.” She bowed with one hand behind her back and one held out to him. “May I have this dance?”

He laughed, such a bright, happy sound, and took her hand.

“It would be my pleasure, Miss Green.” He led her to a spot near the edge of the dance floor and took her in his arms as the last song started. “Have you had a good time?”

“I have.” She smiled. His skin was slightly chilled but smooth and she subtly squeezed his arm, feeling the muscle underneath. “I was worried. I’ve never really been to something like this before.”

“That’s right. You missed all the craziness last year.”

“I promise you; I didn’t.”

He grinned and led her into an easy turn.

“I want to thank you,” he said. “I haven’t danced this much since…well, since Anne was here.”

“She liked to dance?”

“Loved to. It was always a fight to get her to stop and eat. Had to throw her over my shoulder once just to get her to drink water.”

“So she’s always been feisty.”

“Always.” His smile grew a little wistful. “I should like to write her about tonight, if that’s all right.”

“Be my guest. And thank you for checking on me earlier. At the table.”

“You’re not a novelty act.”

“Can I throw you at anyone that thinks otherwise?”

“Of course.” He grinned. “I’ll even wear a suit.”

She snorted and rested her head on his shoulder.

“Such a pain.”

Chapter 17

Chapter Text

Don’t cry, don’t scream, don’t run–Aurelia tore through the halls as fast as she could without making a scene, eyes on the floor, throat aching.

Don’t cry, don’t scream, don’t run.

She rounded a corner, colliding hard with someone, but they didn’t fall.

“Aurelia?”

Ominis. Squeezing her eyes shut, she clutched him, burying her face in his shoulder. Strong arms immediately wrapped around her.

“It’s all right, darling. It’s all right. Here.”

Shadows, fabric, a tingle of his magic across them both.

“Darling, you’re shaking. What happened? Are you hurt?”

She managed to shake her head once.

“Cursed jewelry,” she muttered. “Defense. She–she said it could be anything, make them do…”

“Shh shh shh.” He held her tighter, the scent of cotton, rich wood, and cardamom filling her mouth. “I understand. I’m sorry it upset you. You don’t have anything to worry about.”

She shook her head again, pulling back.

“Dahlia. Is she all right? Malfoy wouldn’t–A-aran wouldn’t–If anyone would notice, it’d be you. She’s safe, isn’t she? Can we–We can’t ask; she’d be in danger. Oh god…”

“Stop stop stop.” He clasped her neck, long fingers warm at her nape, thumbs resting just at the hollow of her throat. “Breathe. Your heart’s beating too fast. Breathe.”

“But–”

“Breathe.” He pressed, just slightly, in a slow rhythm. After a moment where she found it hard to swallow, she was able to breathe with him without getting dizzy.

“Good girl,” he said. “Now. What I’m about to tell you does not leave this alcove. Do you understand?”

She nodded.

“Good.” Oh. He could feel her move. “First: Dahlia is completely safe with Aran. Some time ago…” He sighed. “You have to understand there are so many awful things we’re taught growing up. Muggles are better dead, women are better pregnant, bread is better toasted. Horrible, disgusting things were said in the same tone as discussing the weather. Most men don’t even notice something’s wrong. The enchantments you’re no doubt thinking of are simply normal for a lot of the Old families.

“A young man from one of those families–no, I won’t tell you who–started courting Dahlia a few years ago. He felt entitled to certain…attentions and because we’re taught that women are there for the taking, he…tried to take. Aran saved her before anything could happen but it opened his eyes, made the connection between the rhetoric and the reality. No, Aran Malfoy would never submit a woman to such measures. The Malfoy family…”

His thumb stroked her neck.

“Aran is a strong man. As the Heir to one of the Great Houses, those loyal to him and those wanting his favor will fall in line. Dahlia is all right. I promise.”

Aurelia took as deep a breath as she could, her mouth wet and thick. Her throat hurt from the scream she kept trying to shove down.

“Professor Hecat talked about injuries mostly,” she said. “Some deaths, assassinations, but when she mentioned control, one of the boys made a joke.”

His hands twitched.

“More rhetoric,” he said. “And that you’re reacting this way, this strongly, means you understand. Muggles struggle with this too then.”

“They say it’s God’s Will and if we disobey, we’re going to Hell and it doesn’t matter if he hurts me, sometimes God must be tough with His children and the husband is the head of the family and I should revere him like I do God…”

Ominis’ jaw tightened, steel running through his hands but never closing.

“Of all the things for our worlds to have in common,” he said. “It had to be something so vile.”

“I’m sorry I ran into you. Are you hurt?”

“No, I’m fine.” His thumb dipped a little lower. “Your pulse is still a bit high. Did you want to go outside?”

“No. I mean, yes, I probably should get some air but the bell’s about to ring. You go on. I’ll be fine.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.” She squeezed his wrist. “Thank you, Ominis. I’m sorry for worrying you.”

“Come find me at dinner so I know you’re all right.”

“I will. Go on.”

*

“Good morning, Miss Greengrass.” Aurelia entered the classroom with a click of her low heels.

“Good morning, Miss Green,” Dahlia said. “Have a seat. You’re taking notes.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

The blonde stood with her back to the blackboard, a bit of chalk writing a list of some kind behind her while she opened a box on the desk and pulled out a crown. Aurelia tensed. Dammit. She looked at the list.

Necklaces
Pendants
Collars
Bracelets
Rings
Signets
Head of House/Mistress of House
Engagement
Wedding
Earrings
Hair accessories
Crowns/diadems/tiaras

“All right.” Dahlia brushed off her hands. “Can you guess what we’re discussing today?”

“Cursed jewelry.”

“Enchanted jewelry. Professor Hecat, for some asinine reason, has decided to introduce this topic during 6th year when she knows full well that the summer between 6th and 7th years are full of engagements. Don’t worry; the prefects are aware of this and if they have any sense of responsibility at all, they will take care of the younger ones. Ours certainly do.”

Aurelia made a note to ask.

“Rings are the most common,” Dahlia went on. “Usually for function and usually for the men. The ring for the Head of the House is tied into the magic of the estate itself. It will alert them to visitors, departures, danger, and can act as a key to ward or seal the house. It will be large and ornate with gemstones specifically chosen for their magical properties. Every House has different priorities. I have a book for that.”

She gestured to the side of the desk where a stack of books sat. Good.

“The Head ring will always be worn in public. Sometimes other vestments will be added but that depends on the ego of the Head. The sons of that House are issued signet rings when they are thirteen with the House’s seal stamped on top, gold for the heir, silver for the others. They will wear these on their left pinkie finger. All of them have different permissions and abilities enchanted to them.

“Next are engagement rings, physical embodiments of the betrothal contract.”

Aurelia opened her mouth, closed it.

“What?” Dahlia asked.

“Someone mentioned a courting gift?”

“We’ll get to that. Next: wedding rings. Sometimes, the woman will get a new ring and sometimes they just add enchantments to the engagement ring to modify the contract. The man will usually have those aspects added to the Head ring. Now, when I say these rings are physical embodiments of the betrothal and marriage contracts, I mean that literally.”

She held up her left hand to show off her diamond.

“There are standard agreements such as fidelity, siring heirs, protecting the family and its reputation, keeping house. Individual families add objects of interest as they see fit. Our contract includes protections for me. For instance, I can refuse to have sex with Aran at any time and if he ever tries to force the issue, the enchantment will act as a literal shield.”

Aurelia’s quill froze. She looked up at Dahlia, who gave a grim smile.

“Now we get to the stronger enchantments. ‘Loyalty’ can be interpreted as ‘absolute obedience.’ ‘Siring heirs’ can be ‘submitting to whatever sex he wants whenever he wants it.’ ‘Protecting the family’ can be a compulsion to commit suicide if the husband is in danger of legal, physical, or social retribution.”

Dahlia folded her hands, taking a couple steps towards Aurelia’s desk.

“The same piece that’s enchanted to attract attention and polish your beauty could be enchanted to choke you if you dare disagree with your husband in public. This is the reality. The patriarchy has sunk its claws in deep and these pieces are passed down father to son to grandson. Every generation adds another layer of enchantments, another layer of protections, another layer of whatever it is they think will get them what they want.”

She held Aurelia’s gaze for a beat then started pacing again.

“Every Pureblood girl is or should be instructed in safety protocol. Never go anywhere alone with a man not your family. If a man gives you an interest or courting gift such as a necklace or bracelet, don’t take it out of the box until you’ve had your mother check it, don’t touch it, and for all that’s holy, don’t let him close the clasp on you. Even thanking them directly can sometimes signify to the enchantment that you’ve accepted the terms. Instead, deflect. ‘How kind of you.’ ‘It’s beautiful.’ ‘I can’t wait to show my sister.’ Do you understand?”

“Yes, ma’am. What about when men help you into your coat or fasten your cloak?”

“Not enough metal. Enchantments do best in pure metal. The more refined the metal, the stronger the enchantment. That’s why goblin metal is so prized; it can hold an incredible amount of enchantments. That’s also why–after a point–only goblins can work with the piece. The enchantments begin to melt and meld together and it can be difficult even for powerful alchemists to differentiate where one spell begins and another ends.”

Aurelia underlined the words ‘alchemists’ and ‘goblin metal’ a couple times.

“Do they react differently depending on the combination?” she asked. “I’ve heard of muggle medications reacting badly when mixed with others.”

“Yes, just like with potions. Another reason to have an expert fully inspect any kind of jewelry you receive. Do muggles have degrees of what is considered appropriate for gifts?”

“Yes.” Aurelia tried to think back to the young women in her town and the sneers and whispers of the old biddies. “Small gifts are acceptable at the beginning. Books, flowers, small, inexpensive tokens. Candy is always safe because it’s not permanent. Clothing can be all right, depending. Gloves, handkerchiefs, that kind of thing. Jewelry is…very declarative.”

“That’s a good way to put it.” Dahlia went to the stack of books and started picking them up one by one. “Gemstone and metal associations, gift etiquette for ladies–there are a couple of those–and a diary telling of a 14th century witch’s experience with a rather dogged suitor that tried to cheat the goblin, the witch’s father, and the other suitors. It’s quite entertaining, really. Very spiteful.”

A wave of her hand sent the books to Aurelia’s bag.

“Come here.”

Aurelia joined her at the desk to look at the stunning tiara of diamonds, sapphires, and…was that silver or white gold? Delicate, whatever it was, the strands so fine she imagined a simple comb could break them.

“It’s beautiful.”

“My mother’s. She wore this for a new year’s celebration the year she married my father. Tell me about it. You may use your wand. It’s safe.”

“Implying other items might not be?”

Dahlia smiled. Right. Taking a breath, Aurelia took her wand and began casting the diagnostics Professor Hecat taught them. Her wand glowed different colors with each spell, alerting her to charms as simple as hair-smoothing and cooling to clarity, enhanced hearing, and…something…

She frowned, lowering her wand. A rainbow of warm and cool shades twisted into a smooth gradient she usually only saw on flowers or in the sunset. The diamonds anchored different colors than the sapphires and the metal channeled the threads like water.

“Like wand movements,” she muttered. Underneath, though, she sensed something darker. More…’brittle’ wasn’t the right word. Sharp. Rotten. It was faint, the lingering stink after the trash had been taken out. She leaned over the tiara, Peering at the painstaking detail. Everything was perfect, smooth, no seams anywhere except…

“There.” She pointed to the base of a single line of silver that used to be anchored to the inside of a leaf. The colors seemed to avoid that spot except for a sickly green clinging to it like drops of a potion on the lip of the bottle.

“What was it?” She looked at Dahlia. “It’s been draining. What did it do?”

The blonde gave her a shrewd look, studying her face for a moment before answering.

“Compliance,” she said at last. “Mother discovered it when she got undressed for the night and started replaying conversations. A comment from a French dignitary, something she absolutely would have responded to, had gone by without a thought.”

Aurelia’s frown deepened. Dahlia was so careful with her words. Every turn of phrase had a purpose, every lilt in her voice, every gesture of those manicured hands. Horror settled through Aurelia’s body.

“She couldn’t even think against it,” she whispered. “It wasn’t just not speaking against him. She couldn’t form the thought.”

That grim smile again.

“Mother took a knife she kept on her person, also goblin-made, and started stabbing the tiara. She cut herself, threw the tiara on the ground, and went storming to her mother. From what I hear, she woke the entire house.”

“Did your father…?”

“No. He claimed he didn’t, anyway. In any case, he was educated and no such enchantments ever touched my mother, myself, or my brother’s interests.”

And Dahlia educated Aran. Aurelia took a step back, licking her lips.

“Speak,” Dahlia said.

“Ominis told you I was upset.”

“He did.”

“Have I overstepped?”

“You have not.” Dahlia came to stand in front of her, lightly moving a curl out of Aurelia’s face. “You were right not to confront Aran. Another situation, another man, I would’ve paid for it severely. I am…truly sorry you understand that.”

“Not your fault.”

“No. But it is my responsibility. Information is power. I’ve seen you research, I know your work ethic. Learn. Study. You obviously have an eye for this sort of thing. Learn what to look for, learn exactly what it is, learn what it means–for you and for them.”

Aurelia’s stomach twisted.

“I won’t be able to save them,” she said. “Will I? Not all of them.”

“No. I’m afraid not. And the ones you do save, you may have to wait an agonizingly long time before you can act safely. But this is another level of clarity. You knew you were in the mountains, the teachers told you the weather, and I’m showing the types of wildlife.”

“Building the environment.” Aurelia nodded. “Yes, Miss Greengrass. I appreciate it.”

Dahlia smiled.

“Very good. That’s it for the day. I’ll see you next time.”

“Yes, ma’am. Have a good day.” Gathering her things, Aurelia bobbed a quick curtsy to Dahlia and walked out. Aran stood leaning against the wall opposite the door, effortless and perfect in his uniform.

“Good morning, Mr. Malfoy,” she said.

“Good morning, Miss Green.” He pinned her with those sharp grey eyes and she resisted the urge to fidget. He might be offended. Ominis and Dahlia assured her that Dahlia herself wouldn’t pay for Aran’s moods and he didn’t seem the type anyway. But Aurelia wasn’t quite sure where she fit into his world. If it came down to it, the man would protect his family. Aurelia could very well be in the way.

But she wouldn’t apologize for worrying.

A slow smirk crossed Aran’s face as he straightened.

“Have a good day, Miss Green.” He walked past her into the classroom.

“Mr. Malfoy. Take care of her.”

His smirk widened.

“I always do.”

*

Natty sat down heavily, her bag a loud thud on the desk.

“You too?” Aurelia asked.

“Mother told me.” Natty’s mouth twisted. “Just when I think people can’t get any more disgusting.”

“Dahlia said the prefects in Slytherin make sure the girls are safe. You know, don’t touch any jewelry or let him clasp it on you before you check it, that kind of thing.”

“Do the other prefects know?”

“I don’t know. It sounds like this unit comes up every year so you’d think. I’m going to ask our prefects just in case. Maybe put a note on the bulletin board.”

“Yes!” Natty nodded. “Yes, that’s a good idea. I’ll talk to ours as well. Your hair looks good.”

“Thanks. Adelaide helped me with it. I think she called it a ‘crown’ braid?”

“It suits you.”

“Thanks. Any word on the whole ‘boggart’ thing? I heard that’s usually part of this year.”

“Usually but given all the danger last year, the teachers have decided to push it to seventh year. My mother told me.”

“That’s…better, I guess.” Aurelia wrinkled her nose. “Bit cruel to expose our deepest fears to the whole class, though, isn’t it?”

“You caught that too.” Natty drummed her fingers on the desk. “But we can’t very well afford to let our fear cripple us if we’re to be aurors. That’s how people get killed.”

“So we’ll turn it into a dancing hamster, then?”

“With a top hat?”

“Of course with a top hat. And a little cane.”

“I think the cane should be pink.”

“Naturally.”

Chapter 18

Chapter Text

The faint scent of lavender filled her lab, her knife sliding softly against the cutting board. It was calming, really. Strangely so. Aurelia had never found much enjoyment in cooking; it was just something to do so she didn’t die. At least alone. She had some fond memories of…

She shook herself, carefully dropping the lavender stems in the cauldron. The recipes, the procedures, and the specific ways to prepare the ingredients all let her stay in the moment, a kind of active meditation that worked far better than just sitting on the floor in silence like the Church said. She had to pay attention to the smells, the texture and thickness of the potion, even the sounds and how her tools moved through the ingredients. She had to keep an eye on the heat and timing, counting seconds and the number of stirs with the wooden spoon versus the silver. She had to be present.

Not something she was especially familiar with. All her life, she’d had to think of the next step, the next project, the next danger. Did she have enough food, were her clothes clean, was her work done–then she got to Hogwarts and it was who did she have to keep alive, what was the next lie she had to tell and to whom, where was the next fight going to be and did she have the right potions for it.

Sighing, she read the next step, confirmed she’d done the one before, then added the four drops of purified snake oil. They hit the potion in little globs, suspended in the silvery liquid, and she stirred clockwise six times with her ash stirring stick. Set cauldron to simmer, leave the ash in the cauldron, and she was done until next week. Now to note her observations. Where was her pencil?

She found it near the burner but reached in too fast and touched the side of the cauldron. Hissing, she jerked back, sticking her finger in her mouth. Dammit. Just like the cast iron skillets back home only magical pewter held and distributed heat much better. She really hoped she didn’t get a blister.

Looking at her finger, she sighed at the angry red mark. Shame to waste a wiggenweld on something so small. Maybe just some ice then. Although…

She let her gaze Shift, Staring at the threads that made up her own magic. The threads in her hand and other fingers undulated like they usually did, spiderwebs in the wind, but the threads under the burn looked…frayed. She frowned. Was it…possible?

Biting her lip, she Reached for those threads, feeling her magic respond in her other hand. The burned, frayed threads seemed to reach for her and she let them guide her touch. One pass. Two. Three. Slowly, the frays smoothed out until the threads were as whole as the ones in her other hand. A blink and she was looking at a finger that no longer glowed red. No swelling either, minimal discomfort.
Holy sh*t. It wasn’t healed, not completely, but she’d calmed the inflammation which was the source of most pain. She let out a shuddering breath. A little dizzy and her mouth was a bit dry. Nothing too bad though. Easily dealt with.

Something bright and fragile began to flutter in her chest. Not healing. She wasn’t there yet. But this, calming the body instead of just yanking out what was wrong, that was healthier, right? More natural?

She wiped her eyes, carefully fetching her pencil, and made notes of both her potion and the threads. Just like wetting a cotton thread before putting it through a needle. Now she needed to see if it could be done for other people.

*

The rest of the week, she watched her classmates like a hawk. Not only was she noting their colors and intensities, she was also watching for injuries. That Ravenclaw slept on her neck wrong. That Gryffindor stubbed their toe. Garreth took a skillet to the head in Transfiguration. Aurelia Watched them all, studying, and when she thought she could, she’d try to Reach. It gave her a headache after a while but as the week wore on, she was able to reach and soothe physical pain from across the classroom.

Not enough. Not yet, anyway, but Professor Avicenna would call it ‘proof of concept.’ She took detailed notes of each attempt and the aftermath. Isidora’s mistakes would not be hers. Thankfully, nobody seemed to have any adverse effects so far. No one got worse and, for the smaller injuries, the inflammation stayed away entirely. Which meant on larger injuries, like when Natty took a concussive spell to the chest, that it was only a temporary help. She didn’t get worse when the soothing effect wore off but she did…feel it still.

Well. Temporary relief was still relief. Maybe it could be like cough medicine that allowed the patient to sleep for a few hours. Every little bit helped.

That next Monday, she decided to take a break and let the throbbing behind her eyes fade. Stamina was built in stages, after all. Like rungs on a ladder.

“Hello, darling.” Ominis joined her at Hufflepuff. “Sleep well?”

“Eh.”

The mail owls came swooping in and a letter bounced off Ominis’ head.

“Ow!”

“Sorry, honey.” Aurelia caught it with one hand, smoothing his hair with the other. “You all right?”

“Fine. What was that? A mail-order book?”

“No, that would’ve knocked you…out…”

He turned closer, hearing the change, and she stuffed the letter in her bag.

“Letter from Him,” she muttered. “I’ll read it later.”

“You’ll–”

“I’ll come find you if I need anything. Finish your breakfast.”

“Bossy.”

Transfiguration passed in a blur. She knew she must have retained something because she had a whole sheaf of notes but she couldn’t speak to any of it. Charms passed much the same way and she went straight to her Room for lunch.

“Good afternoon, Miss,” Deek said. “Would Miss like some lunch?”

“Ah, no. Thank you, Deek.” She smiled. “Just needed a few quiet moments.”

“Of course, Miss.” He gave a little bow and popped away. She ripped open the letter with shaking fingers.

‘Aurelia,

Time grows short and so does my patience. I’ve written Anne countless letters and she’s yet to respond. I can only assume the worst. Either my letters are being kept from her or she’s physically unable to write back. Both options break my heart. Please. I’m begging you. Save my sister.

Unless, of course, that was never your intention to begin with. I wonder, sometimes. There’s a lot of time to think here, really the only good thing about this wretched place. I’ve thought of you and Ominis often, replaying our adventures together, and I have to wonder if you ever cared about my sister or if I was simply a means to an end. I was so useful, wasn’t I? Teaching you new spells, helping you find Isidora. So convenient until I wasn’t. Is that why you turned me in? I was no longer necessary to your quest to save the world?

In that case, I call in your debt. Without me, you would’ve died or worse. Save my sister and I shall call it even. There will be no reason to resume our contact once I’m freed. Our account will be settled.

If you are truly as honorable as you pretend to be, use those gods-damned abilities and stop that curse.’

Aurelia screamed.

*

Ominis stood lingering outside the Great Hall come dinner. The other students gave him a wide berth but he ignored them, head turning this way and that. Aurelia stalked up to him and he relaxed as he registered her footsteps.

“You’re angry,” he said.

“Furious. Do you have time to talk after dinner?”

“Yes. Come get me when you’re ready.”

She squeezed his arm and headed inside. Again, she remembered nothing, tasted less, and only knew she was done when her fork clinked on the plate a few times.

“Everything all right?” Poppy asked.

“Boy trouble.” She stood. “I’ll see you later.”

“Do I need to get Highwing?”

Aurelia just smiled, shaking her head, and headed over to the Slytherin table. As one, the men at that end stood, including Ominis. His plate was empty.

“Gentlemen,” she said. “Ladies. If I could steal Mr. Gaunt for a moment.”

“As long as you bring him back in one piece,” one of the prefects said.

“No promises. Ominis.”

Chuckling, Ominis came around the table, offering his arm. As soon as they were clear of the doors, though, his smile dropped.

“All right,” he said. “What’s going on?”

“I need to talk to you and the walls have ears. Do you trust me?”

“Of course.”

God, he didn’t even hesitate. Her heart twisted in her chest and she swallowed hard.

“Ominis…”

“Did I stutter?”

She squeezed his arm.

“Come with me then,” she said.

Portraits murmured, knights whistled and stomped, ghosts floated, but neither of them spoke. He just walked with her, trusting her to lead. The only time he hesitated was when they got to the stairs and went down instead of up.

“Oh,” he said. “Not your Room?”

“Not this time. I’m afraid we have to sully that Good Boy reputation of yours a little more.”

“How ever will I survive.”

They reached a floo flame in a courtyard and after a quick Search to check they were alone, she led him through to the damp, stone corridor she’d been in so many times. Hmm. She really should fix this up someday.

“Where are we?” he asked, his wand high. “This smells like the forest.”

“Kind of. Let’s get inside and I’ll tell you everything.”

The doors opened with the barest touch, as they always did, and their shoes echoed on the polished floor. He stopped at the top of the stairs and she let him orient himself while she walked down to the map itself. The book was still on the podium, Hogwarts and the highlands still glowed under the glass, and the massive frames still hung empty.

Useless f*cks.

“All right, Miss Green.” Ominis joined her on the map. “You have my attention.”

“Right. First, I need your word that what I’m about to tell you does not leave this room. It’s…well, it’s another sh*tload of secrets for you to carry and I’m sorry for that but the story won’t make sense otherwise.”

“I understand. You have my word.”

“Do you want me to start chronologically or with my experiences?”

“Chronologically, if you please.”

“All right.” She took a breath, glancing up at Professor Rackham’s frame. “In the 1470s, there was a Scottish wizard named Percival Rackham that learned, when he was fifteen, that he could see a type of magic most couldn’t that he called ‘Ancient’ Magic. Over the years, he taught himself how to wield it and eventually became Divination professor here at Hogwarts. During that tenure, he met a student named Isidora Morganach, another late bloomer from a nearby hamlet. She could see it too so he, along with three other professors he’d come to trust, taught her how to use the magic.”

“I can guess where you come in.”

“Don’t get ahead of me.” She started pacing, her shoes dull on the glass. “When she was a young child, Professors Rackham, Bakar, Fitzgerald, and Rookwood restored Feldcroft–where she lived. The crops, the water. But they didn’t heal Isidora’s little brother. He died shortly after and the grief broke their father.

“When Isidora came to Hogwarts, it occurred to her perhaps she could do something about it. Ancient Magic was such an unknown, anything could be possible, right? So she graduated, traveled, and came back to Hogwarts as an adult to take the Defense Against the Dark Arts position.”

She swallowed, images of that stupid house in Feldcroft still making her skin crawl.

“She invited the four professors, her mentors, to her home for dinner one night. When they arrived, she brought out her father and…drew the pain out of his chest. Put it in a goblin-made jar.”

Looking back, she saw Ominis frowning in her direction.

“He was ecstatic,” she said. “But the professors were horrified. That wasn’t the point of Ancient Magic, they said. They didn’t know what the consequences would be. She was overstepping, playing God. What was she even taking out? She was disappointed at their reactions but she believed in her work, claimed she was doing good–had done good for many. Come to find out, she’d been ‘pulling the pain’ out of hundreds of men, women, creatures, even students here.”

“Children.” His grip tightened on his wand. “The threads. She was ripping out the threads.”

“You remembered, yes. Later, Professor Bakar went back to the house to try and confront Isidora. He found her father hollowed out, eyes as blank as an Imperious. Whatever she’d done had kept working until he couldn't feel anything anymore. There was never any record of that in her notes though–which we found–”

“We?”

“I’ll get to that. There was no record beyond Professor Bakar’s account so that tells me she never followed up with her patients. Dorran, the centaur I spoke with, remembers what she did viciously enough that he was ready to storm the castle so she clearly didn’t think she had to fix anything.”

“What happened to the jar?”

“She needed a bigger jar so she commissioned a goblin named Bragbor to build a series of repositories to hold the pain. Huge metal balls the size of a carriage. She said she didn’t know what do with it after extraction but during the process, an essence was released that induced brief moments of euphoria. She was so excited about what she could eventually do with both that essence and the pain itself. The four professors, at that point calling themselves the Keepers–as in secret keepers–found Bragbor and obliviated him. Unfortunately, he’d already recorded everything in his journals. Which is how Ranrok found out about them.”

“Ranrok.” Ominis started pacing in an aimless loop, wand tip glinting red. “There were stories, headlines of goblins suddenly attacking villagers, violence they’d never seen before. They just assumed it was their nature, of course, but Sirona swore that wasn’t normal. Temperaments didn’t just change like that, not in goblins. They’re as steady as dwarves, according to her. And all the animal attacks. What did the…pain magic do?”

“I can’t say for sure. It was hundreds of years of fermented grief, agony, sadness, and hate all congealed into something that probably made them feel very powerful. But it destroyed them, forcing or letting their bodies go far beyond their limits, much like drugs would. I…don’t know if they have those here.”

“We do, just not the same kind. And there was a repository under the school. That’s why he attacked Hogwarts.”

“You know, it’s really unfair that you can be that smart and that attractive.”

“You didn’t bring me down here for a dance partner, darling.” He shot her a weak smirk. “It’s the only thing that makes sense. If he were to attack the school out of revenge, there are a dozen other points more suited to his machinery that would cause far more damage. Digging a thousand feet down had to be for something else.”

“Yeah.” Sighing, she transfigured a sofa out of some broken stone and they sat down. “God, it’s such a mess.”

“Where do you come in?”

“Well, I’d love to say it’s complicated but it really isn’t. I can see Ancient Magic but the Keepers are dead and their portraits were scared someone else could become another Isidora so they set up a series of trials while they were alive, each with a piece of Isidora’s story in a pensieve, and made me jump through a couple thousand hoops to get them and ‘learn a lesson.’ Meanwhile, Ranrok was using the pain magic with goblin metal to forge weapons and collars. He put them on trolls, turning them into mindlessly aggressive beasts for himself, and dragons for Victor Rookwood to either control or use for fighting pits.”

“Fighting pits.”

“Oh yes, Rookwood made a lot of gold the last couple years. Poppy helped take down the poachers, Natty helped take down Harlow, Amit and Lodgok helped me try and figure out what Ranrok was up to, and all of that severely undermined the entire machine.”

“Mmm.” He shifted. “And Sebastian?”

“First, it was this place. I needed a book in the Restricted Section to start all this. The last part was Isidora. He saw Isidora successfully draw out her father’s pain. Nothing after, of course. That would’ve been too helpful.”

He muttered something in French and rubbed his face.

“That’s why he wants you to heal Anne. He thinks you can draw out her pain, stop the curse.”

“They didn’t teach me anything about how to use Ancient Magic. Everything I know about it is through trial and error during combat–which I also wasn’t trained for. I just blew sh*t up when I got angry or scared.” A shiver shot through her, flashes of cold stone at her back and weapons swinging down at her head. “The only thing they did was tell me a cautionary fairy tale then they left so I can’t even ask them if it’s possible. Their portrait frames are behind us and they’ve been empty since the Battle.”

“Is there a portrait of Isidora? If she was a teacher…”

“Burned. There were two charmed to her but one was cut up and split into different locations–that triptych is actually in the Undercroft–and the other burned in her Feldcroft house. There was a repository there too. That’s why they were there in the first place.”

“So even if Anne hadn’t been cursed, is it possible that pain could’ve hurt her or others anyway?”

“Very possible. I asked Dorran if I could just release the material like dumping mud in a river and he said it was more akin to a corpse in a well. It would poison too much in the meantime so it’s entirely possible that even what’s left over in the empty repository is still f*cking up Feldcroft. Hell, it could’ve been what made Solomon such an ass. You know, on top of all the trauma and sh*t.”

She brought her feet up on the sofa, hugging her knees.

“I’ve tried so hard to figure out what I’m Seeing,” she said quietly. “I don’t know if I could heal Professor Sharp or fix your eyes. I don’t know enough about the body or how any of it works. I mean, I’m learning but how long does it take to become a doctor? Ten, twenty years?”

“Your color theory. I thought you meant the colors of the casts themselves, the different lights people talk about. But you’re talking about the magic that makes a person, aren’t you?”

“And how they use it, yes. But even if I can See them, if I tried to manipulate them, I could hurt her worse. And she’s been fighting this for so long…”

She took a breath, trying to keep her voice steady.

“The nearest I can think of is that the curse Rookwood used was necrotic of some kind. She looked like someone with consumption, a muggle disease that just…drains the victim until they don’t even have the strength to walk. A lot of His research leaned that way too and the artifact in the catacombs controlled inferi. But I don’t know how it works, I’m certainly not smarter than whoever you all have seen, and there is a very real possibility that even stopping the curse wouldn’t heal her. The damage could already be done and I can’t just grow a new body for her.”

Ominis said nothing for a long moment and she let him sit.

“What did Sebastian say?” he asked. Sighing, she read the letter to him and when she looked up, the muscle in his jaw twitched.

“Such arrogance,” he breathed. “My god, did he normally speak to you that way?”

“Do you mean did He get angry and make me feel guilty when I disagreed until I apologized to Him? Yes, quite a bit. If I ever actually bucked, He’d come back simpering and sweet-talking and turning it around but yes. This fits the pattern too.”

“I’m so sorry. If I’d known–”

“I probably would’ve ignored you because I still needed Him for my mission.” She let the letter drop on the cushions between them. “I did use Him.”

“No more than he used you. And to lay all that responsibility at your feet when you had only just Awakened a few months before is abhorrent. He’d never ask a child to do such a thing; it would be unthinkable. How could he expect you to suddenly know what to do? You’re sixteen.”

“Hope is an ugly thing.”

He shut his mouth with a click and turned away.

“I want to try, Ominis,” she said, voice tight. “I want to. Anne’s so sweet. She doesn’t deserve this. But I can’t…I don’t know how. I have the charts and I’m trying to figure things out but that doesn’t mean…I don’t know what to do with it.” She squeezed her eyes shut. “I don’t know what to do.”

Then again, she hadn’t known what to do through most of last year, most of her life, really. Maybe she should try anyway. But Anne seemed resigned the last time they spoke and Aurelia didn’t want to force her to do anything; that was what He had been trying to do but god, she understood and she didn’t want to make Ominis watch someone suffer and die like that–

“Shh shh shh.” Strong hands gently pried hers out of her hair and drew her to his chest. “No, darling. No. It’s not your fault. It’s not your responsibility.”

“I’m sorry.” She buried her face in his shirt. “I’m so sorry. I don’t know what to do.”

“You’re not supposed to.” His arms were as tight as they’d been after the cursed jewelry lecture. “This is not your burden to bear. It never was. Sebastian had no right to put that on you.”

His voice wavered, his chest shaking underneath her. Guilt yawned in her lungs, filling her throat.

“Ominis…if I could guarantee it…if I knew for sure…”

“I know.” He held her closer. “I know.”

*

Aurelia sat up some time later with an ache in her back and stiffness in her limbs. It was cold, almost drafty, and she grimaced.

“sh*t,” she said. “Ominis?”

He startled, inhaling sharply.

“Oh,” he said. “Apologies. How long have we been here? What time is it?”

“Probably past curfew. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to take up your entire evening.”

“Not the worst I’ve ever had.” He grinned but she could see the red around his eyes, the weariness in his shoulders.

“Ominis…”

“Don’t. Please. I…” He sighed. “I suppose I’ve been grieving for Anne for a long time. I just didn’t want to admit it.”

“What do you need from me?”

He let out a breath that might’ve been a chuckle, might’ve been a sob.

“I don’t know. Just…don’t make me lose you too.”

“I’ll do my best.” She led him back to the castle and walked with him until he recognized the halls. “Thank you for listening. I’m…f*ck, I’m sorry to put all that on you but I needed you to understand.”

“I do. And don’t worry. I won’t tell anyone.”

“You swear on the ice-cream?”

He grinned and raised his right hand.

“I swear on all flavors, past, present, and future, I will keep your secret til the end of my days.”

She laughed, drained though she was.

“May I give you a hug?” she asked.

“You don’t have to ask for that, darling. Come here.” He held open his arms and she hugged him around the waist, under his robe. Hopefully, he could feel how much she appreciated him.

“I’ll catch you at breakfast,” he said.

“Breakfast. Slytherin?”

“Slytherin. Good night.”

“Night.”

Chapter 19

Chapter Text

“Miss Green, good morning.” Dahlia smiled at Aurelia as she approached the Slytherin table. “Just the person I wanted to see. Do you have plans for Christmas?”

“I…No.” Aurelia sat down next to Ominis, who immediately floated over a cinnamon roll the size of her face. “That might actually kill me. No, Miss Greengrass. I was just planning to do homework.”

“Well, if you decide you need a break from that, you are formally invited to the estate. Don’t worry; we have plenty of gowns you can borrow.”

Aurelia squeaked in the back of her throat and looked at Ominis.

“The Christmas season has become quite popular for balls, dinner parties, and the like,” he said. “Also, I know Anne would love to see a familiar face. Even if it’s just to visit.”

Well. sh*t. She smiled at Dahlia.

“Let me get back to you, Miss Greengrass. I need to see what kind of mountains the teachers are giving me.”

“Fair enough. We’ll talk later about the specifics.” And then Dahlia was talking to one of the prefects about the first-years and Hogsmeade and Aurelia tuned her out.

“What is it?” Ominis asked.

“Anne.”

“What about her?”

“Are you sure she’s all right with this? I mean, obviously Dahlia wouldn’t invite me if it weren’t because hostesses don’t do that but–sh*t, I’ve never even written her. What if she–does she hate me?”

“No, of course not. Why would she hate you?”

“Really?”

Ominis rolled his eyes.

“Darling, she doesn’t blame you. Yes, there were obviously different decisions you could’ve made but she’d been dealing with his madness for longer than she’s known you. It’s fine.”

Aurelia pressed her tongue up into her teeth.

“She hates me,” she muttered. “She has to.”

“Look, if you’re that worried, why don’t you write her yourself?”

“I…can I do that?”

“Why not? And when she tells you that everything’s fine and she’d love to see you–like I told you–you can buy me chocolate as an apology.”

Aurelia narrowed her eyes at him.

“What?” he asked.

“Why are you doing this? First, Dahlia and Aran, now this. Why?”

“Is it so crazy to think I might just like you?”

When she didn’t answer, he sighed and laid a ginger hand on her wrist.

“I know it’s awful to ask,” he said quietly. “But let me be selfish?”

And he said He was a good talker.

“I’ll write to Anne,” she said. “But I make no promises.”

“Deal.”

*

Only it wasn’t that simple. After classes, Aurelia sat down in her Room fully intending to write Anne a nice, polite, professional letter. And nothing came. Everything sounded trite and insensitive and the more wordy she got, the worse it sounded. Over a dozen letters had already made it to the fire and she was half-tempted to just refuse outright and save herself the mortification.

But she’d told Ominis that she would try and she didn’t want to lie to him again.

Sighing, she rubbed her eyes and tried again.

‘Dear Miss Sallow,

I’m sorry for not writing sooner. Honestly, I wasn’t sure if I should but Miss Greengrass has generously invited me to Highgarden for Christmas Break. I understand from Mr. Gaunt that you are still staying with them and if this visit will, in any way, make you uncomfortable, please, say so. The last thing I want to do is cause you more pain.’

She paused, chewing on her lip. What could she possibly say that would make up for what she’d done? What could possibly fix any of this?

‘Apologies are useless at this point but I am sorry.

Yours, Aurelia Green.’

*

Aurelia set down her things and took off her shoes as soon as she got to her Room a few days later. Ominis was in the unicorn vivarium this time, hopefully able to relax. She stretched, back popping, and headed up. And yes, there he was, stretched out in the grass near the ruins with his sunglasses on. The sun was warm, wherever this was apparently not descending into winter yet, and he’d rolled up his robe for a pillow.

She slowed her steps, careful to be as silent as possible. When she got a bit closer, she crouched, bracing on her fingertips as she approached. His breathing was even, slow. She hated to wake him but the urge to poke him was so strong she couldn’t help herself.

Leaning closer, she slowly lifted one hand.

“Hello, darling.”

She yelped, falling back, then scrambled to her knees and started beating him with his own robe.

“You’re supposed to be asleep!”

“The Lord of the Tides is quieter than you.”

“Oh, bullsh*t, I was perfectly quiet. Kitty-cat quiet.”

“Mmm.” He stole his robe-pillow back and laid down, casually slipping his sunglasses in his blazer pocket. “How was Defense?”

“Not bad. Leander’s being a dick but what else is new? How were the babies?”

“Actually, not terrible.”

“Yeah? They’re getting better?”

“I wouldn’t go that far.”

Chuckling, she rolled up her own robe and stretched out next to him with a sigh.

“Feels nice,” she said.

“It does. Nice to thaw out a bit between classes.”

“I was meaning to ask, does snow bother you? The reflection?”

“That’s adorable. You think I go outside in the winter.”

“Wow, really?”

“Delicate Pureblood constitution, remember?”

“I call ‘bullsh*t.’ You’re easily the strongest person I know.”

“That’s sweet.”

Silence fell. She played with her fingers.

“Anne wrote back,” she said.

“And what did she say?”

“I haven’t read it yet.” Glancing over, she caught his smile.

“Go ahead,” he said. “Read it to me.”

Groaning slightly, she dug the letter out of her robe and began to read out loud.

‘Dear Miss Green,

Ominis was right. We’ve been talking about you, you see. You’ve indeed shown more honor and integrity in these few months than most people do in their entire lifetimes. I don’t blame you for not writing sooner. I will admit, it saddened me a little, but I understand. What can you possibly say after all of that? What can any of us say that doesn’t sound trite?

More to the point, it was my idea to invite you. My idiot brother took advantage of your kindness and for that, I am truly sorry. Consider this the first step in making amends.

I don’t want to cause you pain either. If this is too much, I understand and hope you have a lovely Break regardless. If you are able to come, though, I would love to get to know you better. Ominis says you’re quite charming.

Warmest regards, Anne.’

Aurelia let out a shaky breath, eyes aching, and let the parchment rest on her chest.

“You said I was charming?” she asked.

“Can be. I said you ‘can be’ charming.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Well, sometimes you can be a bit crass. Actually, I’m not sure whether that detracts or adds, now that I think about it–”

“No. I don’t understand Anne. It was her idea? Why? Why would she want to get to know me?”

“Because I told her about you.” Ominis turned his head towards her, meeting her eyes in that uncanny way of his. “Believe it or not, you’re not a terrible person. In fact, you’re quite interesting. And I think Anne would enjoy having another girl around for the Yule Ball.”

“The Yule Ball.” Well, Dahlia did have her get that evening gown. And it would be fun to just be pretty and have fun for a night. She could always take her work with her, beg off for ‘homework’ now and then. “Is that…all right?”

“Of course it is.” Closing his eyes, he turned his face back to the sun. “You’re not putting anyone out. I promise. Just a kind gesture with no ulterior motives.”

“You always have ulterior motives.”

“You don’t say?” He smirked and she couldn’t help but grin back.

“I’d like to,” she said quietly. “Please.”

“Then we’d be happy to have you.”

Silence fell again, calm this time. No need to fill the space with chatter or work. She just…laid there. The unicorns wandered around, bright in her mind’s eye, and she could hear the phoenix singing somewhere. No telling where the graphorn was–which was both frightening and impressive. But the phoenix…

“Ominis?”

“Mmm?”

“Do you…would it be too much to ask if you…sang something?” She chanced a glance just in time to see his lips curve in a soft smile.

“What would you like to hear?” he asked.

“I…I don’t know. Do you know anything Celtic?”

“One or two. Hundred.”

“Any of them not a pub dance?”

“I think I can find something.” He shifted, fingers tapping a couple times on his stomach. Then he started to sing.

“High in the sky
Through the clouds and rain
Every familiar field
Seems like an old friend*…”

His voice was so beautiful, smooth and effortless and something out of a storybook. High to deep, soft to strong, nothing sounded forced or choppy. He just sang, mouth curling around the words as if coaxing music out of the air itself.

She closed her eyes.

“When every hand that you shake
Is like a warm embrace
Could only be one sweet place
Home and the Heartland…”

The sun warmed her clothes, sinking into her skin. She took a slow, deep breath. Then another. Then another. The stress from the day began to seep out of her body and into the earth, her shoulders, her back, her legs relaxing with every gentle note.

“Sing out your songs
And ring out your stories and rhymes
Weave from your dreams
The mystical dances that lead us to
Bind in heart and mind…”

“Sister…”

Oh. She was dreaming again. f*ck. It was a familiar darkness, a familiar surge of panic. She turned to leave, forcing her eyes away from the eyes and smiles.

But they followed her this time. They chased. She ran but her legs wouldn’t work properly, her steps heavy as if through mud.

“No!” Someone screamed. A man. Old, young, both. “No, take me instead! Leave him alone!”

She choked, tried to run faster. The darkness shifted, parted, and she saw figures with spears and sharp tongues.

“Take me instead! Don’t hurt him!”

She pushed and climbed until her legs burned. No. No, not again. Not again. She couldn’t let it happen again. Not this time.

“Take me!” she screamed. Hands grabbed her arms and shoulders, impossibly heavy and cold. “Take me! Kill me! Let them go!”

Hands yanked her hair, swiped her ankles, grabbed her throat.

“Kill me, please!”

Arms wrapped around her, strong and hot.

“–to me, darling. Come back.”

Aurelia gasped, jerked, but the arms held firm.

“Come back to me.” A low voice in her ear, soft breath on her cheek. “You’re safe. You’re alive. Come back to me. You’re safe.”

She choked. Grass under her hand, the scent of cardamom and cotton in her mouth.

“Ominis…”

“I’m right here, darling. I’m here.” He held her with strength she didn’t expect, his body firm and unyielding around her. One hand gripped the back of her neck. “You’re safe. You’re alive.”

She took in a shuddering breath, clenching his shirt in her fist.

“I’m all right,” she said. “I’m all right. I’m sorry.”

“No need to apologize.” He loosened his hold enough to grasp her shoulders. “Breathe for me. I need to hear you.”

It was a relief to have an order, to focus on something besides her shaking hands and sweaty back. She held onto his wrists and took breaths as deep as she could manage. Gradually, her heart felt less like a stampede and she was able to swallow.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I didn’t mean to–It should be dinnertime. We should go.” She climbed shakily to her feet.

“Aurelia.”

“Don’t. Please.”

“All right.” He stood, gathering their robes. “I’m here if you need me.”

“I know.” She flexed her hands, shaking them out. “I’m sorry I worried you. Thank you for singing. It really was very pretty before I fell asleep.”

“I’m glad you liked it.” He walked with her to the Room proper and helped her into her robe. “We could eat here, if you prefer.”

“No. Please, I just–I need–”

“All right, darling. All right.” He took her hand, tucking it into the crook of his arm. “I understand needing noise. Just one thing.”

“What?”

He looked at her again, brow furrowed.

“You probably won’t want to sleep tonight and I understand. Just…promise me you won’t leave the castle. Hide in the library, if you must, or come here. But don’t leave.”

“Honestly, the thought of trying to fly like this makes me feel sick. I promise. Library or here.”

“Thank you.” He covered her hand with his then turned to the door. “Shall we head to dinner then?”

“We shall.”

*

“Hey, Green!”

Aurelia startled, looking around until she spotted Leander Prewett striding up the stairs to her.

“Hello,” she said. “Do you need something?”

“I wanted to talk.” He gestured for her to keep walking and fell into step with her. “I wanted to invite you to the Prewett Estate for Christmas Break.”

“Oh.” What the f*ck? “Thank you but I’m going to the Greengrasses. I just spoke to Dahlia this morning.”

“I know.”

She stopped.

“Excuse me?”

“Look.” He put a hand on her arm, drawing her to the side. “Dahlia’s nice enough, I suppose, but she’s in with the Malfoys and Gaunt will be there. It’s not safe.”

“I think I can handle myself.” She pulled out of his grip. Ew, she could still feel the wet heat of his palm on her sleeve. “Thanks for the concern but I have plans.”

“Plans with them don’t count. Listen, Mother’s already gotten the guest room ready for you–”

“What?!”

“Keep your voice down!” He glanced around the hall, smiling at some passersby. “As I was saying–”

“You were ‘saying’ nonsense.” Aurelia felt her magic crackle along her fingers and she clenched her fists. “I don’t know what the hell you were thinking but you don’t get to just decide what I’m going to do. We barely know each other!”

“Stop yelling!” He grabbed her arm again. “You’re embarrassing me!”

“Oh, f*ck you!” She wrenched away, glaring. “Stay away from me, you prick.”

She stomped away, ignoring anyone she ran over. God, she was just–how the–what the actual living f*ck!

“Miss Green?”

She looked up. sh*t, she’d snarled the whole way to Alchemy. Aran stood at their desk, brow furrowed in concern.

“I’m fine,” she snapped, dropping her bag with a thud. He sat back down–cautious–and she groaned, rubbing her face.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I’m sorry.” She took a breath then smiled up at him. “I’m well, thank you, Mr. Malfoy. How are you?”

“That bad, huh?”

She let her smile fall. Well. He didn’t seem too angry.

“Can I ask you a question?” she asked.

“Of course.”

“Would you ever make decisions for Dahlia? Without talking to her?”

“Beg pardon?” If he weren’t already so pale, she would say he went white as a ghost.

“Exactly!” Aurelia said. “And that’s someone you care about. Or I’m assuming–you two are adorable together. You’d never do that to her, much less some random stranger.”

“No, I would not. But I am also considered rather…progressive. Among the older circles.”

She made a face and sighed down at her textbook.

“If Wizards are supposed to be so much better than Muggles, why are there the same bullsh*t problems in both?”

“Good day, class!’ Professor Avicenna swept into the room, in brilliant scarlet and green this time. “Quills at the ready! We’ve got a lot to cover today.”

“Sorry,” Aurelia muttered. “It’s not your fault.”

Aran just nodded and got out his quill and ink pot.

*

“Aurelia!”

Hufflepuff table this morning. Ominis turned at Natty’s voice, making to stand, but Aurelia just yanked him back down without looking. She was getting tired of people yelling her name.

Natty slid onto the bench next to her and gave her a hug.

“Are you all right?” she asked. “What happened with you and Prewett?”

“God.” Aurelia rolled her eyes. “Nothing. Asshole had the audacity to try and tell me I was going to his house for Christmas Break. ‘Mummy’s already got your room ready.’”

Ominis choked on his tea.

“That’s what he was saying in the Common Room last night,” Natty said. “He was bragging about taking you home.”

“That little sh*t! No, I’m going to the Greengrasses’ with Ominis. And that was another thing!” Aurelia tore into her muffin. “Saying it wasn’t ‘safe’ and I was in danger because he was a Gaunt. I mean, look at him! He’s a cinnamon roll! Poppy, you see it, right?”

Across the table, Poppy giggled and nodded.

“Total cinnamon roll.”

“Pardon?” Ominis asked. Aurelia looked back at Natty.

“Right?” she asked.

“Well…” Natty looked first at Ominis then at Aurelia. “All right, yes, I was skeptical for a while because…reasons…but yes, complete cinnamon roll.”

“Exactly. I would bet my vault that I’m more dangerous than he is.”

“So there’s nothing going on with you and Leander?”

“God, no. He showed me around Herbology once and made me feel gross at the Halloween Ball. There’s nothing going on.”

“All right.” Natty gave her another hug as she got up. “I’ll take care of it. I just wanted to get the real story.”

“Thank you for that. See you in class?”

“I’ll be there.” Natty went back to the Gryffindor table and Aurelia turned back to her food.

“Darling…”

“If you’re about to suggest I go to the Prewetts' out of some misguided martyr bullsh*t, I will put you in your pancakes.”
Ominis’ lips twitched as he nodded and took a careful, measured bite of his eggs.

“Cinnamon roll?” he asked.

“It means you’re sweet,” Poppy said. “Last year, I wouldn’t have called it but this year? Absolutely.”

“Thank you?”

“It means you’re safe,” Aurelia said. “And harmless.”

“Harmless.”

“Oh, don’t be offended.” She squeezed his wrist. “Can someone pass me the sausage?”

Chapter 20

Chapter Text

December. She was finished with her written assignments through at least March, including all of the questions she was trying to sneak in about the repository. Her group projects were complete with the idea that she’d just turn in whatever part she was assigned. She’d brewed most of the potions in her Room, transfigured different objects, and practiced the more complicated charms–all with Deek or one of the portraits as a witness. When she was in her dorm, she drew with charcoal or pastels before bed, as much to wind down as to finish the next portfolio.

And yet, with all of that, she still felt so far behind. Her clothes were starting to hang a bit, her belt cinching a hole or two tighter, and she couldn’t sleep more than a few hours at a time. But she took advantage of it, working and practicing as much as she could. She got the feeling she wouldn’t be able to do much work over Christmas break and, really, she wanted to be able to focus on Anne without worrying about school too.

Soothing injuries was coming much easier though. Her range had expanded to the length of the Hufflepuff table and the pain and inflammation relief lasted up to a day longer, depending on the injuries. Really, it was amazing how many people got hurt on a daily basis. Just the number of animal bites and sprained ankles from the stairs had her head spinning.

Still, she wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth. Practice was practice.

Then it was time to turn in all their end-of-term papers and projects. Then it was finals and her brain was so full and so empty, she wondered if it were possible for it to just melt out of her ears.

And she still had to figure out Christmas presents for Natty, Poppy, Garreth, Ominis, Anne, Dahlia, probably Aran, and a hostess gift of some kind for the Greengrasses because she was not about to embarrass herself or her friends. Maybe she could make something? Would that be too low?

“Anne is so excited.” Ominis was the only one at the Slytherin table with any kind of energy. “She’s made a huge list of everything she wants to do while we’re there.”

“I hope that includes food,” Aurelia said. “You know, for the poor, uneducated bumpkin that eats with lamp metal.”

Benedict snickered.

“Remember, Green,” he said. “Shoes go on your feet, not your hands.”

“What?! I thought they went on your ears!” She bapped Ominis in the shoulder. “You lied to me?”

“I would never!” He put a hand to his chest, offended. “I told you to brush your hair with a fork but did you listen? No. You’re absolutely shameless.”

They laughed, she hugged his arm, and they went back to eating.

*

The first morning of Christmas Break, students practically stampeded out of the castle. Most boarded the train to London, including Aran, Dahlia, Ominis, and Aurelia.

“A carriage will meet us at the station,” Dahlia said, the four of them in a cabin to themselves. “The trip to Highgarden takes a couple of hours from there.”

Aurelia nodded, mentally going over her list of clothes again. Which was silly as she’d brought everything she owned. The idea of not being prepared for a dinner or event made her physically ill and the thought of embarrassing Ominis or Dahlia…

“Breathe.” A warm hand closed lightly around her wrist, fingers subtly on her pulse. “Everything will be fine.”

“I’ve never met nobility before,” Aurelia said. Ominis waved his other hand to vaguely take in the rest of them.

“You don’t count,” she said. “Aran and Dahlia scared the sh*t out of me and you pulled the ‘My father will hear about this’ card after you yelled at me.”

The others laughed.

“Still haven’t realized that was a bluff, Green?” Aran asked. “I’m disappointed.”

“Well, I didn’t know there was drama at the time. I was just terrified of getting kicked out.”

“You were terrified of getting Sebastian in trouble,” Ominis said.

“Which is pointless,” Dahlia said. “Because that boy didn’t know how not to be in trouble.” She tapped a manicured finger on the armrest. “It’s a long trip to London. Why don’t we talk about how the Houses work?”

“I would very much appreciate that,” Aurelia said. “Thank you. Oh! Hang on. I’m going to need notes for this. Hold still, Ominis.” She climbed up onto the seat, bracing on his shoulder, and grabbed her bag from the overhead rack. “I’ll probably need a new notebook for this, won’t I?”

“I promise you will,” Ominis said.

“Possibly more than one,” Dahlia said. “But we have a giant book of family crests in our library; you can look into that when we get there.”

Heart warming at the offer, Aurelia settled back down with a new notebook and pencil.

“All right. Hit me.”

“So the first thing you need to know,” Dahlia said, her voice shifting into the lecture cadence she used for their lessons. “Is that Wizard and Muggle society used to be integrated and many old, powerful families held positions of power within the Muggle government.”

“Like parliament members?”

“Like dukes and earls.”

“Oh.” Aurelia wrote that down.

“There were thousands of magical families back then. Many consider them all to be ‘pureblood,’ according to the standards we have now, but that’s up for debate. However, as families died out, married out, or were killed, the standards for what qualified became more and more strict and more and more laws were passed to ‘protect’ the Purebloods.”

“Do you know what we mean by ‘pureblood’ and ‘half-blood’?” Aran asked.

“Legacy magical users versus people who have muggles in their tree,” Aurelia said. Aran nodded and gestured for Dahlia to continue.

“The Secrecy Statute passed in what you would consider the colonial period,” the blonde said. “Too much instability from the King. That’s when things got…messy. There was a massive outcry from the old Houses to reject anything and everything muggle, including titles and precedent–despite us all still using the same hierarchical structure.

“Which brings us to the Houses themselves. There are eight Great Houses: Black, Gaunt, Greengrass, Malfoy, Nott, Prewett, Selwyn, and Shafiq. Of those, Gaunt, Malfoy, and Black would be equivalent to royal dukes while the others are just dukes.”

“Ooh.” Aurelia grinned at Ominis, who preened a little.

“All of the other Houses are considered Lesser. Thirty-four would be equivalent to marquesses–”

“Like the Weasleys,” Ominis said. “Garreth.”

“And twenty-nine earls. There are also established half-blood Houses, 110 viscounts and 442 barons.”

“The tricky part of all of this,” Ominis said. “Is that there was a lot of movement right after the Statute was enforced. A lot of people vied for power. Some lost, some won, and since we don’t use muggle titles anymore, we just have to learn the hierarchy and keep track of how it changes.”

“Does it change often?” Aurelia asked.

“Not so much anymore,” Aran said. “Queen Victoria’s reign has actually been incredibly beneficial to our world as well, serving to stabilize the alliances that had already formed.”

“All the Lesser Houses serve as bannermen to stronger Houses,” Dahlia said. “And so on and so forth so that each of the Great Houses have hundreds of allies under them. They don’t necessarily give or follow orders but the idea that they could keeps the country from descending into outright war.”

“For example,” Ominis said. “Garreth’s House is a bannerman for the Prewetts. A vassal.”

“Ew.” Aurelia wrinkled her nose. “Is that why he had the audacity?”

“Oh, I guarantee it.” He turned towards the other two. “Leander Prewett informed Miss Green that she was coming home with him for the holidays.”

“Is that what that was about?” Aran asked. “I thought I heard whispers.”

“That’s disgusting,” Dahlia said. Her gaze grew a little distant, another thought crossing her mind, before she shook herself and looked back at Aurelia.

“All of those Houses also have new families, half-blood or muggle-born, emerging as a middle-class of sorts in their territories,” she said. “And much like the burgeoning trade class in muggle society, the redistribution of wealth caused some complications regarding laws and opinions. Still is, as a matter of fact.”

“How do you know all this?” Aurelia asked, pencil never stopping. “The way people talked at Hogwarts, it’s like they forget there’s an entire world outside. And you, sir.” She poked Ominis’ leg. “Aren’t supposed to know sh*t about muggle anything.”

“We don’t,” Ominis said with a smirk. “We know about money. We know about power. And just because we can’t tell the people we work with that we’re magical doesn’t mean we don’t work with them.”

“Yes,” Aran said. “It’s much cheaper to use existing infrastructures like shipping lanes and just adjust a few things than to set up an entirely new system.”

“And how many purebloods would actually admit to that?”

“Us.”

Aurelia snorted.

“All right,” she said. “What next?”

What followed felt like a trip to a foreign country. They’d dropped hints of how things worked in their world before and Aurelia knew a little of upper-class muggle society. But this was another level entirely. All their talk of Houses and alliances sounded more like battles between countries than just people down the road.

On the other hand, it was strangely comforting that wizarding society was so similar to muggle. Sure, they had different standards of what was ‘rude’ and ‘acceptable’ but people were people, assholes were assholes. The aristocrats and politicians mingled and overlapped to an obnoxious degree. Merchants and tradesmen could very well be richer than one of the Houses but because they were half-bloods, they’d never be recognized the same way. And at the bottom of the ladder were the poor, the foreign, and the muggle-born. Technically, there were laws against discrimination but there were even more laws supporting things like ‘necessary referrals’ and ‘background stipulations.’ To live or work anywhere decent, one had to know someone. The ‘right’ Someone.

It was messy, far messier than Aurelia even thought to expect with all the deals and favors and imagined slights. But, thankfully, Dahlia was a good teacher and kept the boys from overwhelming Aurelia with too much too fast. And none of them laughed when Aurelia had to spread a big piece of paper out on the floor to map out the different House connections. Both boys simply moved their feet and Aran stamped the different crests on the paper as they spoke of them so she could see how they connected at her own pace.

The day passed in a blink and by the time they made it to King’s Cross Station, Aurelia had a much better view of the world they were walking into. Along with a headache.

“And here is where I leave you.” Aran reverently kissed Dahlia’s hand. “I shall see you at the Yule Ball, my dear.”

Nodding to Aurelia and shaking Ominis’ hand, Aran left, his cloak billowing dramatically behind him. Dahlia’s gaze lingered for a second before she turned to them.

“All right,” she said. “Let’s go home.”

“What’s the Yule Ball like?” Aurelia asked. Dahlia’s eyes lit up and the carriage ride was filled with much more animated tales of food and decorations and someone’s cousin falling in the pond.

“Oh, we’re here.” Dahlia pulled the curtain back on the left side. “Come here, pet. It’s just about to come over the ridge.”

Aurelia scooted in next to her, watching the snow-covered trees creep by, then the carriage rounded the bend and a great stone castle emerged from the dark. Spires pierced the sky, reaching for the stars, and the moon sat bright and full as if hanging between them on a rope.

“Oh…”

Torches lined the driveway, each growing brighter than the last until the carriage reached the front gates. An older man in fine grey robes stood on the steps with rich, dark hair and a wide smile.

“Welcome home,” he called. Ominis quickly stepped out then handed down Dahlia and Aurelia.

“Father, so good to see you.” Dahlia hugged him tightly and for a second, Aurelia could picture a little blonde girl doing the same. She smiled.

“My angel,” Lord Greengrass said. “Ominis, come here, son. Let me look at you.”

“Hello, sir.” Ominis shook the older man’s hand, his shoulders the most relaxed she’d ever seen. “Thank you for having us.”

“Of course, of course, you don’t have to thank me for that. And you must be Miss Green.”

Aurelia stepped forward and curtseyed.

“A pleasure to meet you, Lord Greengrass.”

“And you, Miss Green.” Lord Greengrass kissed her hand. “Dahlia’s told us so much about you. Come inside out of the cold. My wife and Miss Sallow are waiting for us in the parlor.”

“Anne’s feeling better then?” Ominis asked.

“Much. She might even be able to attend the Yule Ball.” He led them inside and Aurelia gasped at the soft ash woods and gentle fabrics in various shades of greens, blues, and whites.

“Tell me,” Ominis said, reaching for her hand.

“Like the first breath of the sea.”

He smiled.

“Right this way, my dears,” Lord Greengrass said. The parlor was just as beautiful with brocades, silks, and a roaring fire to one side. An older blonde woman in pale blue robes of silk velvet sat on the lush chaise with–

“Anne!”

Anne Sallow jumped to her feet, hugging first Ominis then Dahlia then, surprisingly, Aurelia herself.

“It’s so good to see you!” Anne gushed. “Come sit, come sit. We’ve tea and biscuits–or hot chocolate, if you prefer. Tell me everything!”

Lord Greengrass and the older woman smiled indulgently, the latter coming to take Aurelia’s hand.

“So good to meet you, darling. I am Freya Greengrass, Dahlia’s mother.”

“A pleasure, Lady Greengrass.” Aurelia curtseyed again, earning her an approving nod from Dahlia. “Thank you for having me. You have a beautiful home.”

“Why, thank you. Come sit down. I remember that train ride; it was wretched then too.”

Aurelia smiled and joined Lady Greengrass on another lounge while Lord Greengrass took an armchair. Dahlia and Ominis sat on either side of Anne, all three chattering happily like puppies tumbling over each other. Aurelia smiled. So cute.

But she was tired and worn from the last few months. Her vision Shifted without her meaning to and she Saw nothing but rot. Whereas other bodies held colors woven through the bright white wefts of Ancient Magic, Anne’s was a tangled mass of blacks, greys, and angry oranges. Necromancy and evocation, if she remembered her notes right. Necrotic damage and active harmful attacks. Some threads were broken outright, the rest frayed to be almost four or five times their size.

Aurelia’s heart clenched. She was right. Even if she could stop the evocation, the necrosis had taken its toll. She’d have to remake Anne’s entire body, reweave her whole tapestry, and even if she could picture the chart in her mind, actually doing it to the level of precision needed…

“Miss Green?” Lady Greengrass asked. Aurelia cleared her throat.

“Sorry. Long day. Could you direct me to the washroom, please?”

“I’ll show you.” Ominis stood, grabbing his wand. “I forgot how long that trip was.”

“Thank you.” Aurelia walked with him out into the hall but as soon as they were out of sight, her steps faltered. He caught her in a strong hug.

“I know,” he whispered. “I know. It’s all right.”

She clung to him, burying her face in his shirt. God, it was just so unfair. Someday, she might be able to do something. Someday, she might be able to actually repair that kind of damage. But there was so much.

“Shh.” Ominis held her tighter. “Shh shh shh. Don’t. Please.”

“I can help. I can smooth some of the threads, help with the pain. I get a bit of a headache but I’ve been working on it for a couple months.”

“Just a headache?” He pulled back enough to rest his hands on her shoulders. “Darling, I don’t–”

“Just a headache.” She squeezed his wrists. “I’ll be careful.”

“You swear.”

“Every damn day.”

He snorted, squeezing her shoulders.

“Washroom is down this hall,” he said. “Second door on the right. Take your time. I have a feeling we’ll be up for a while.”

*

Aurelia could honestly say that the guest bedroom they showed her was bigger than the entire tailor shop she’d worked and lived in as a child. The bed itself would’ve taken up her dorm room at Hogwarts, the bed linens so fine she’d only seen such fabric for wedding gowns.

That next morning, she let herself luxuriate in the plush, lightly-scented comfort for as long as she could before her body insisted she attend to it. She’d just finished up said attention when a knock came at the door.

“Um…” She threw on her cloak, her housecoat still packed, and cracked open the door. “Yes?”

A young woman stood on the other side in a crisp black uniform and white apron. Her thick brown hair was pulled back in a bun and topped with a tiny white cap that kind of looked like a doily.

“Good morning, Miss Green,” she said. “My name is Mary. I’ll be attending to you during your visit.”

“Oh! I uh…um…” She could dress herself but what if she dressed wrong? Would it be rude if she refused? sh*t. Aurelia cleared her throat and let her in. “Thank you, Mary. I’m…sorry. I don’t–I’ve never had anyone’s help like this.”

“Not to worry, ma’am. Miss Greengrass said you might need some help navigating and I am happy to provide.”

All right, so Dahlia was officially perfect. Aurelia nodded then realized she still had on her cloak and hastily threw it over the desk chair.

“Thank you,” she said. “What time is it? Am I late for breakfast?”

“Not at all, ma’am. Would you prefer I draw you a bath or lay out your clothes?”

Aurelia had heard that same tone with the women at the church when they spoke to toddlers, gently coaxing a decision while not overwhelming their baby minds. Another time, she might’ve been offended but she felt so out of her depth without Ominis at her back that she would take literally anything at this point.

“Clothes, please. I haven’t unpacked yet.”

“I’ll take care of it, ma’am.”

“All right. Ah, just be careful of my–” She winced. “Sorry. You know what you’re doing.”

Mary smiled.

“Come,” she said. “I’ll show you how the bath works.”

*

“Oh, Aurelia, I do like that color on you.” Anne smiled brightly as Aurelia came into the dining room wearing the green a-line dress from Ominis’ birthday.

“Thank you,” she said. “Good morning, everyone.”

“Good morning, my dear,” Lady Greengrass said. “Did you sleep well?”

“I did, thank you.” Aurelia came around the table to sit across from Ominis and Anne, next to Dahlia.

“Hello, darling,” Ominis said, smiling as he sat back down.

“Ominis.” She smiled back. “Are you going to share those tarts?”

“I haven’t decided yet.”

She wrinkled her nose at him then turned to Dahlia.

“Thank you for Mary,” she said. “She’s probably going to need a raise after this.”

Dahlia laughed and took a sip of her tea.

“That’s why we have them. House elves handle the estate itself while human valets shadow us during events. Or, in this case, make sure our houseguests don’t drown in the tub.”

“It was a serious possibility.”

Lady Greengrass shook her head with a grin.

“Eat your fill, darlings. After, you are free to do as you like. Lunch is as you get hungry, dinner will be at eight. Lord and Lady Rosier will be here.”

“Mary will help you dress,” Dahlia told Aurelia. “When will Narcissus arrive?”

“Tomorrow. There was some trouble with their portkey.” Lady Greengrass waved her hand, as if dismissing the whole idea of red tape. “The Yule Ball will be Thursday night, Christmas Eve. We will exchange presents the next day when everyone is gone.”

sh*t. Aurelia had completely forgotten Lady Greengrass’ hostess gift in her room. And she still had to wrap the presents for everyone else.

“Oh, it’s snowing,” Anne said. They all turned towards the windows and Aurelia smiled at the little bits of white outside.

“Like bits of dandelion fluff,” she said. Ominis had a small smile on his lips when she turned back.

“What do you think?” she asked. “Shall we test that delicate Pureblood constitution later?”

“Sure.” His smile turned mischievous. “As soon as we test your dancing.”

“Oh, you little brat.”

“Not much for dancing?” Anne asked.

“I may have stepped on his toes a couple–”

“Dozen,” Ominis said. Aurelia resisted the urge to throw her fork at him.

“Anne, smack him for me.”

The other girl did with a giggle and they all laughed.

“Eat up,” Lady Greengrass said. “There’s plenty.”

*

Anne looked both much better and much worse. Better for the quality of care, food, and clothes. Worse for…well. Everything else. Her pink cotton dress hung off her thin shoulders and despite the make up, the dark circles under her eyes looked deep. She moved carefully, slowly, and it seemed she couldn’t even sit up straight for very long.

No time like the present then. They’d retreated to the library, bundled in blankets in front of the fire with a chess board between Anne and Ominis.

“You’ve gotten better,” he said.

“Lord Greengrass indulges me every now and then,” Anne said. “Nicholas is quite a skilled player too.”

“Don’t tell me that. He has enough to worry about making sure my pants and shirt match.”

She laughed, a happy sound, and Aurelia let her gaze Shift. The main source of pain seemed to be in her torso and she’d clutched her side when Aurelia saw her in Feldcroft. Maybe something near her ribs then, or her lungs. They’d mentioned trouble breathing.

Adjusting in her chair, Aurelia focused more on the intensity, trying to gauge the subtle differences in the mess of Awful. The brightest spot was near Anne’s stomach, just under her ribs, a mass of frayed, tangled threads that looked like a cat had gotten to a bag of embroidery floss. Aurelia took a breath and carefully, so carefully, began to work. It was slow; she didn’t dare do more than one thread at a time yet. Not until she knew how Anne would react to all this.

“It’s not your fault, Aurelia.”

sh*t, Anne was talking to her. Aurelia paused, adjusting her grip to hold instead of twist, and blinked back into normal vision.

“Sorry?” she asked.

“It’s not your fault.” Anne looked at her. “Once Sebastian gets a thought in his head, he’s like a dog with a bone. If it weren’t you, he’d have roped someone else into helping him. It’s not your fault he’s an idiot. It’s his. So don’t feel guilty about that. And I don’t hate you. Ominis and Dahlia said you’ve been working really hard. That’s all any of us can do, right?”

Her stern expression and no-nonsense tone made Aurelia smile and glance at Ominis.

“Feisty,” she said.

“Very feisty.” Ominis smiled, leaning back in his chair. “I’d recommend doing as she says. It’s much easier that way.”

“Oh?” She looked back at Anne. “Does he do as he’s told?”

Anne snorted and moved her chess piece, announcing the move. Ominis didn’t even have to think before he moved his piece.

“Check.”

“Oh!” Anne stuck out her tongue. “I should’ve seen that. Aurelia, do you play?”

“No, I can’t say that I do.”

“Well, after I beat Ominis, would you like me to teach you?”

“You mean when you lose,” Ominis said. “And no, let Miss Green rest. She’s been taking Alchemy this year with Aran.”

“Oh, Merlin, I’ll pray for you.”

Aurelia chuckled and settled more comfortably in her chair. She’d thank him later.

Chapter 21

Chapter Text

Chess soon dissolved into just talking. Ominis fielded most of it, allowing Aurelia to work. The problem–or the trick, she supposed–was that the more she worked, the better Anne began to feel, and the more she wanted to talk.

By the time the house elves announced lunch was ready at their leisure, Anne was more animated than ever.

“I think I’m actually hungry,” she said happily.

“Then we shall get something to eat.” Ominis stood, helping Anne to her feet. “Come, darling. I think it’s time for a break.”

A break. Yes. The soothing would wear off eventually, possibly very soon given how aggressive the curse was, but Aurelia had gotten pretty good at easing off instead of just stopping. She walked behind them, letting go ‘finger’ by ‘finger’ until her ‘hand’ was completely withdrawn. Her head hurt.

“And what’s this ‘darling’?” Anne said, grinning at Aurelia as they entered the dining room. A buffet lined one wall full of cold cuts, cheese, crackers, and fruit. “Something you two aren’t telling me?”

“Don’t you start,” Ominis said. “Half the school already thinks we’re courting.”

“Yes, that’s what they say,” Aurelia said. They let Anne go first, Ominis careful to stay within arm’s reach, and when they all had their plates, they sat down in their spots from breakfast.

“So you’re the Slytherin Slag this year then?” Anne asked. Aurelia choked.

“The what?!”

“The Slytherin Slag. There’s one every year. Fourth year was…oh, who was it? The redhead?”

“That means less than nothing to me,” Ominis said. Anne chuckled, playfully smacking his arm.

“Anyway,” she said. “We’re the evil house, right? So any time anyone shows even the slightest interest in us, snakes, or even the color green, the next step is, naturally, that they’re shagging the lot of us.”

“Naturally,” Aurelia said. “Although, I suppose you are the most attractive house. Hufflepuff has Arthur, Ravenclaw has Amit, Everett, and Duncan, and Gryffindor has Garreth and Leander.”

“So just Garreth.”

“Really just Garreth, yes.”

“Thank god,” Ominis said. “If you’d said Hobhouse, I would’ve had to throw you outside.”

“Merlin, Ominis,” Anne said, rolling her eyes. “Are you still on about him?”

“He’s a mewling coward that doesn’t have the intelligence to hide his manipulations or the decency to admit to them. He even took advantage of Aurelia.”

“What?!”

“Not like that!” Aurelia held up her hands. “Jesus, Ominis, could you word things a little better?”

Ominis quirked an eyebrow.

“He wanted you to go to the collapsed Herbology corridor for a venomous tentacula leaf just so he could have a better reputation then asked you again not two months ago so he could get a date. I think I worded it perfectly.”

“He did not!” Anne looked back and forth between them. “Aurelia, you didn’t!”

“I was saying ‘yes’ to everyone I came across,” Aurelia said. “I even helped Sacharissa get her stupid bubotuber pus.”

“Ugh, she’s still doing those skin treatments then?”

“Said she couldn’t stand having so much privilege if the less fortunate had to suffer such ugliness.” Aurelia popped a chunk of cheese in her mouth. “I charged her double.”

“Good girl,” Ominis said. “Now. What shall we do after lunch?”

“Well,” Anne said. “I don’t know about you two but I think I’m going to lie down so I’m fresh for dinner tonight. I feel good but I don’t want to push it.”

Aurelia Looked at the threads. They were beginning to unravel but they weren’t as bad as when she started. Progress?

“A nap doesn’t sound half bad,” Ominis said. “Aurelia, darling, don’t feel like you have to hide in your room if we’re not with you. You’re welcome to the library, if you like.”

“Oh, yes, and the conservatory,” Anne said. “The room’s magically protected so the plants bloom year round.”

“Sounds lovely.” Aurelia blinked back. “I might take a nap in there then.”

Anne smiled and after they finished their lunch, she excused herself upstairs. Ominis let his smile drop once she was out of earshot.

“Impressive,” he murmured. “Are you all right?”

“Yes, just a bit of a headache.”

“Mmm.” He held out his hand. “Give me your wrist.”

“Ominis, I’m fine.” But she obeyed and his long fingers curled around her wrist. “I’m fine.”

He frowned slightly, probably counting her heartbeats.

“Not tonight,” he said. “The Greengrasses and Rosiers will want to see you and Dahlia will surely try to draw you into the conversation. Not tonight.”

“Learning to multitask wouldn’t be a bad thing.”

“Learning how to navigate a Pureblood dinner with all of your faculties isn’t a bad thing either.”

She pressed her tongue up into her teeth, wrist tensing in his hold.

“Fine,” she said. “But tomorrow, I get the whole day.”

“You’ll need your energy for Narcissus. He has a child. A young child.”

“The whole day until dinner then.”

“And you’ll stop if it’s too much.” When she didn’t answer, his frown deepened. “Darling, you are not interchangeable.”

She smiled, covering his hand with her own.

“I’ll be careful,” she said. “I promise.”

He narrowed his eyes, somehow meeting hers again.

“All right,” he said. “I will catch you at dinner then.”

“Dinner.” She squeezed his fingers. “I’ll be fine, Ominis. Don’t worry about me.”

“Shockingly, that doesn’t actually make me stop worrying about you.”

Chuckling, she shoved him towards the stairs.

“Go take a nap,” she said. “I’m going to do some homework.”

“All right. Mary will come find you when it’s time to get ready.”

“Have a good nap.” She watched him go then headed to her room where she took a deep breath, laid down in bed, and Reached. Anne’s room wasn’t far, well within range. Perhaps, without having to play at being sociable, Aurelia could do a more thorough job.

Hmm. Should’ve brought a wiggenweld.

*

For dinner that night, Mary picked out a blue velvet dress with long, loose sleeves closed at the wrist with a line of small, covered buttons along the cuffs, a modest v-neck, and a floor-length, a-line skirt. A diamond-shaped cincher rested just below Aurelia’s bust, trimming her waist even more, and the same covered buttons ran down the center of it. Mary then pulled the top half of her hair back with a clip and curled all of it with a wave of her wand.

“Oh!” Aurelia stared at her reflection in the mirror. “How did you do that?”

“It’s a simple spell,” Mary said. “I can show you later, if you like.”

“Yes, please. That would be wonderful.” She turned this way and that, grinning at the smooth, full curls. “Oh, I didn’t know my hair could do this. I love it.”

“I’m glad, ma’am. Do you need help with your makeup?”

“I…Maybe you could check my work after I’m done?”

“Of course, ma’am. Do you have any jewelry?”

“Afraid not.”

“That’s all right. You’re lovely without it.”

Aurelia smiled at her, quickly applying her makeup, then after a few tweaks from Mary, they headed downstairs.

“Lord and Lady Rosier have already arrived,” Mary said quietly. “Lady Greengrass will have Lady Rosier in the drawing room with Miss Dahlia and Miss Anne. When it’s time for dinner, the gentlemen will come and escort you all to your seats.”

“Isn’t there an order to that?”

“There is. Lady Greengrass or Miss Dahlia will tell you where to stand. You will most likely be walking in with Miss Anne.”

Aurelai nodded.

“Thank you, Mary. Wish me luck.”

Mary smiled, bobbed, and disappeared down the hall, leaving Aurelia to take a deep breath outside the doors. Just a dinner. Dahlia had prepared her for exactly this kind of situation. It didn’t matter if she felt raw and clammy and her head hurt from working on Anne. All she had to do was be polite, genial, and relatively quiet. Easy.

Squaring her shoulders, she went inside.

“Ah, Miss Green,” Lady Greengrass said. “Oh, darling, you look lovely. Come, I’d like to introduce you to my friend.”

*

It was with a strange mix of nerves and excitement that Aurelia sat down to dinner. Everyone looked beautiful, dressed to the nines in tailored suits and glittering jewels yet, as she watched them interact, she realized that even here the hierarchy was in play. A hierarchy she didn’t quite have a handle on but she made a mental note of everything she could so she might ask Dahlia and the others later.

Fortunately, the food helped her headache, even the dishes she didn’t recognize. Unfortunately, she was also starving and couldn’t just inhale the different courses like she wanted to. The wine was also new. Wines. There were different kinds to pair with the different dishes but Aurelia couldn’t tell much more than ‘white’ or ‘red.’ The only wine she’d ever had was for the Lord’s Supper and it wasn’t anything like this.

She decided red wine was her favorite.

“You’re doing really well,” Anne whispered at one point. Her skin looked healthier than it had when they arrived and she wasn’t hunching so much. Aurelia smiled. Anne seemed to favor the white.

“Thank you,” Aurelia said. “Didn’t think I’d need Dahlia’s lessons so soon.”

Anne grinned.

“Just be thankful you’re practicing here and not at the Blacks.”

God, the image of trying to be proper and quiet with Phineas Nigellus ‘Useless f*ck’ Black at the head of the table…

“Miss Green,” Lady Rosier said. Aurelia jumped slightly and faced the older woman, desperately trying not to laugh.

“Yes, ma’am.” Her voice didn’t shake too badly, right?

“How old are you?”

“Sixteen, ma’am.”

“Dahlia tells me you are an artist.”

“Aspiring, ma’am. I’ve only recently begun but Professor Fontana is a gracious teacher.”

The older woman nodded.

“And your handwork? Is it acceptable?”

“I like to think so. I’ve been embroidering and beading since I was old enough to hold the needle.”

“Good, good. Your mother educated you on the finer things then. That’s good.”

“She certainly did her best.” Aurelia took a probably-too-large sip of her wine.

“Speaking of which,” Dahlia cut in smoothly. “How are Lord and Lady Fuqua these days? They’ve just returned from Crete, yes?”

Aurelia didn’t sigh in relief but it was a damn near thing. Anne squeezed her hand and Ominis, across the table, gave a small smile. All right, so she wasn’t a complete disaster. Yet.

Dinner passed, Aurelia managing to remember what utensil to use and how soft to speak. For the most part, anyway. Dahlia would probably have notes tomorrow. Then they all moved to the parlor where Lady Rosier sat down in the middle of the longest couch and faced the piano.

“These long winter nights do chill a man to the bone, don’t they?” Lord Rosier looked pointedly at the bar in the back of the room.

“A touch of brandy should chase that away,” Lord Greengrass said. “Ominis, my lad, would you like a drink?”

“Whatever you’re having, sir.” Ominis sat in a chair off to the side, legs crossed, hands folded carefully on his lap. “Thank you.”

Aurelia didn’t like how precise he was moving, like everything had to be perfect. She didn’t care if the Rosiers were powerful. Aurelia being nervous was one thing but Ominis and Dahlia and Anne shouldn’t be walking on cat feet in their own house. They shouldn’t be scared.

Hmm. Performing for the Ministry was going to be more difficult than she thought. She really did need Dahlia’s lessons.

“Miss Green,” Lady Rosier said once they were all settled. “Do you play the piano forte?”

“I’m afraid not, ma’am.” Aurelia sat on a smaller settee with Anne.

“What instruments do you play then?”

“I regret to say I’ve not had the opportunity to learn.”

Lady Rosier looked affronted.

“Every well-bred young lady can play an instrument,” she said. “My daughter learned piano, violin, and flute by the time she was four years old.”

“Miss Green has quite a lovely singing voice,” Ominis said. Aurelia lost her battle of keeping her face from talking and just stared at him. Really?

Just…f*cking really?

“Sing something,” Lady Rosier said.

This. This right here was why Aurelia hated dealing with rich people. The richer and older they were, the more rude they thought they could be. And because she was young and poor and untitled, she just had to redo the dress and all the embroidery because they saw the Perfect Flower to put in their hair even though the order was already finished and the deadline was still the same—

“I’ll accompany you,” Dahlia said, quickly walking with her to the piano. She lowered her voice. “It’s a test. Just pick a song and it’ll be over. Close your eyes.”

“Really?” Aurelia asked.

“It works for Ominis.”

That startled a snicker out of her, which she quickly smothered, and Dahlia sat at the piano with a smirk.

“Your lead,” she said. Aurelia swallowed, racking her brain. sh*t sh*t sh*t.

Lady Rosier cleared her throat in the awkwardly silent room and Aurelia had to resist the urge to glare at her. It was just another fight, just another battle. And she hadn’t lost one yet.

“When the light begins to fade*
And shadows fall across the sea
One bright star in the evening sky
Your love’s light leads me on my way…”

Dahlia began to play under the lyrics, the notes soft and fitting. Aurelia didn’t know where to look, though Anne and Lady Greengrass’ encouraging smiles helped a little. Damn, she really wished she’d been able to nap earlier. Her headache was coming back. Or maybe it was the wine.

“There’s a dream that will not sleep
A burning hope that will not die
So I must go now with the wind
And leave you waiting on the tide…”

It was an old song, something she remembered hearing from next door on nights much like this. Fire in the hearth, snow outside, wrapped in safety and blankets. She looked at Ominis.

“Time to fly, time to touch the sky
One voice, alone, a haunting cry
One song, one star burning bright
May it carry me through the darkest night…”

Dahlia started to sing with her, voice gentle and almost faint as she harmonized. Aurelia marveled that she was able to play and sing to a song she probably didn’t know and make it look and sound like it was all on purpose. Then again, people like Mozart could do that, right? Maybe Dahlia was just a musical genius.

That wasn’t intimidating at all.

“Rain comes over the gray hills
And on the air, a soft goodbye
Hear the song that I sing to you
When the time has come to fly…”

Aurelia hated how quiet it was, hated how everyone watched her, hated how Lady Rosier hadn’t smiled once since she got here. How can one be that privileged and not be happy? It was asinine. And Lord Rosier looked like he was trying to drink himself into a stupor. Poor Lord Greengrass.

“When I leave and take the wind
And find the land that faith will bring
The brightest star in the evening sky
Is your love waiting far from me.”

The song ended, the audience applauded, and Aurelia absolutely did not collapse on the settee next to Anne.

“That was beautiful,” the other girl said. “Well done.”

“Thank you.”

Around them, conversation picked back up and it was like her mortifying foray into musical theater never happened. Then she saw Anne weave a bit. She didn’t hunch or grab her middle but Aurelia Looked just in case. Mmm. She’d been up too long, or maybe just trying to push herself too hard.

Taking a breath, Aurelia gently Soothed what she could, brushing her power over the delicate threads in feather-light passes. It seemed to help but Anne was still starting to breathe a little heavier.

“Excuse me, Lady Greengrass,” Anne said. “Forgive me but I’m afraid I must retire.”

“Of course, my darling,” Lady Greengrass said. “Miss Green, could you accompany Miss Sallow upstairs?”

“Yes, ma’am.” Aurelia stood and helped Anne to her feet.

“A pleasure to see you again, Lady Rosier,” Anne said with as much of a curtsey as she could manage. “Lord Rosier.”

“And you, Miss Sallow,” Lord Rosier said.

“Good night, my darlings,” Lady Greengrass said. “Sleep well.”

Darlings. Plural. Aurelia glanced at Dahlia, who winked, and walked with Anne out into the hall.

“Are you all right?” Aurelia asked quietly.

“Yes.” Anne straightened up. “Just a little tired. It’s been a busy few days.”

“I imagine.”

“You really did sound good. Have you had lessons?”

“No. Ominis sang for me once but that’s about it.”

“Oh, I love his voice. Maybe we could corner him into singing for us this week.”

“I could put him in a headlock?”

Anne chuckled but it cut off into a wince. So she wasn’t entirely faking. Aurelia offered her arm with a flourish, making Anne smile as she took it.

“I’ll be all right,” she said. “I just need to rest. Things will look better in the morning.”

Aurelia nodded and after she got Anne to bed and let Mary take off all her finery, she Worked until she fell asleep.

Chapter 22

Chapter Text

She didn’t know what woke her. Strange dreams but nothing truly awful this time. No noises. Anne and Ominis were fine. The house was fine. Maybe the toilet?

Aurelia blearily got up and padded to the washroom. Then she realized it was…too much. Oh god. She looked down at the toilet paper and the blood that soaked into it. f*ck!

Quickly summoning her wand, she cleaned up then hurried back into the bedroom where she ripped off the sheets. The top sheet was all right but she needed to soak the bottom one now if there were any chance of saving it. Damn, it probably cost more than her entire wardrobe.

Did she stay up here? No, the laundry probably had better equipment, better soap than just her bar soap. Fine. Bundling up the sheet, she crept through the house, Searching. The further down she went, the less expensive the furniture until, after three wrong turns and a few nerve-wracking minutes where she thought she heard someone else, she made it to the laundry room. A large tub sat in the middle of the room, already full of water and floating paddles. Not that one. It would ruin the other clothes.

She conjured a smaller tub, wincing when it thumped loudly to the floor, then filled it with water and stuffed the sheet inside. It was fine. Everything would be fine. It was still early. She’d just have to…f*ck, it would probably take long past breakfast to soak it properly. Maybe she could pretend she was sick? Or Mary. Mary could cover for her, right? If she paid her?

“Miss Green?”

She yelped, spinning on her heel.

“L-Lady Greengrass!” Goddamn f*cking balls, of course the Lady of the House would be up at this hour. Manor houses, even those with magic, surely had a lot to do before the sun rose. Aurelia’s throat threatened to close up.

“Forgive me, my lady.” No, she absolutely was not going to cry down here in the laundry in just her shift. “I-I just…I bled on the–But I’ll pay for it! I promise!”

“Oh, darling, is that all?” Lady Greengrass came over to look into the tub. “Not to worry. The elves can clean it.”

“That’s not–I don’t–”

“Please, if they can handle childbirth, they can handle this.” The older woman looked at her with a slight frown. “Do you have enough pads? Or do you use mooncups? I know those are getting more popular these days.”

“I…” Aurelia’s eyes began to sting and she clasped her hands tight in front of her. “Um…”

“Heavens, child.” Lady Greengrass put a light hand on her arm. “What have you been using?”

“I-I–Mrs. Rhoades, the old woman I used to live with–she owned the tailor shop–showed me how to make linen pockets. We stuffed them with bits of cotton or moss from the trees outside and dried herbs so they wouldn’t smell.”

“What?!”

She flinched, vision blurring even more. Inside, her back twinged and she felt warmth seep out onto her drawers. Disgusting.

“What about your mother?” Lady Greengrass asked. “Sisters? Governess?”

Aurelia shook her head.

“I’m sorry…”

“Oh. Oh, my darling girl, no. You didn’t do anything wrong. Here.” Lady Greengrass yanked a random robe off a nearby hanger and draped it around Aurelia’s shoulders. “Come with me.”

Her firm hand left no room for argument and soon they were in Lady Greengrass’ private, ensuite washroom.

“I keep these in every washroom,” Lady Greengrass said, pulling out a small pad covered in something between cotton and terry cloth and a small white, flexible cup. “Now. Did this…Mrs. Rhoades tell you what was happening?”

“Just that it’s part of being a woman and it means I’m not pregnant.”

Lady Greengrass’ lips pursed.

“Right,” she said. “Have you ever–forgive me, darling, but I have to get personal. Have you ever touched your flower? Beyond just washing?”

Aurelia flushed up to her ears.

“N-no.”

“So you’ve never inserted anything?”

“What?!”

“Not the cup then. We can work up to that.” Lady Greengrass held up the pad. “These are enchanted to change size to fit you. These straps here go over your hips. They’re very absorbent and when you need to change, you change, send the other off to get cleaned.”

“Cleaned? I can–”

“Darling, Hogwarts is over a thousand years old. I promise the elves know human girls bleed.” Lady Greengrass gave her the pad. “These last a decent while but change whenever you need to in order to feel fresh. Go ahead and put this on then I’ll meet you in the library.”

“The–what? Why?”

“So I can explain what’s happening to you.” Lady Greengrass gently cupped her face. “Sweet girl. Don’t worry. We’ll get you sorted. Now hurry and change. I’ll see you shortly.”

The older woman bustled out, leaving Aurelia to hastily rub her eyes and change. Already, she could tell the difference and the simple comfort of not feeling like the pad was going to move or fall out almost had her crying again. f*ck these wild emotions.

Shaking herself, she splashed water on her face, ran rough fingers through her hair, and put on the robe properly. Her mouth tasted like death and she was pretty sure she got blood on her shift, if not the robe itself, but the Lady said to meet her in the library so off to the library she went.

When she arrived, Lady Greengrass sat at the main table with a large book in front of her.

“Come sit, darling.” She patted the chair next to her. “This is going to take a moment.”

Aurelia then spent the next while learning how a woman’s body worked because when Lady Greengrass first got her courses, she ‘thought she was dying’ and she wasn’t about to let her daughter–or any other girl–feel like that. Aurelia could absolutely see where Dahlia got her…well, everything. Lady Greengrass was clear, concise, and almost fierce in making sure Aurelia understood what she was saying.
But perhaps the strangest part was how different this was to even the body charts in Alchemy.

“Men,” Lady Greengrass said, scoffing. “As if their bodies are the model for everything in the universe.”

Aurelia smiled, feeling an overwhelming mix of gratitude, embarrassment, and relief. Not even her neighbors could really explain what was happening, though they had been very sweet when she got upset or made a mess during sleepovers. But now she had words for it. She could follow the lines in the diagram and equate them to what she felt and Saw in her own body. She knew she wasn’t just mad and ‘dramatic.’

Although, learning how sex actually worked was a bit much. She hadn’t expected the book to have diagrams of ‘vagin*s’ and ‘penises.’ But Lady Greengrass insisted.

“It’s all connected, sweet girl,” she said. “And if you don’t know where everything is, how can you expect a man to know? You’ll have to teach him.”

Aurelia’s lip curled, which just made Lady Greengrass laugh.

“Yes, darling. Keep that attitude. If he’s not willing to learn and care for you, then he is not worth your time. Now. Pregnancy itself.”

The sun was rising by the time they finished, the house coming alive around them. Aurelia’s mind spun but the very act of learning something new and important helped mitigate the whole mortifying part. A little.

“Thank you,” Aurelia said quietly. “Really. I really appreciate this.”

“Of course, my darling. And remember, if you have any more questions, feel free to come to me or Dahlia.”

“Thank you. And sorry again about the sheets.”

“Think nothing of it.” Lady Greengrass checked her pocket watch, a delicate gold and emerald piece with what looked to be a mother-of-pearl face.

“That’s beautiful,” Aurelia said.

“Thank you. It was a birthday present from my husband.” She slipped the watch back into her pocket. “We’ve still a couple hours until breakfast. Why don’t you take a nice, long bath? Mary can show you where the bubbles are. When you come back down, I’ll have some tea that will help with the pain.”

“Oh, that would be lovely.” Aurelia stood, closing the robe over her chest. “Thank you, ma’am.”

“You’re very welcome, darling.” Another warm smile that made her want to cry. “I’ll see you in a bit.”

*

She didn’t cry in the bathtub. She sniffled a little and sat quietly when Mary started washing her hair but Aurelia didn’t cry. Mary, bless her, didn’t comment about that or her scars or anything else. She just added some jasmine oil to the bubbles and went to lay out her clothes for the day.

“Thank you, Mary.” Aurelia came out a bit later, dried and soft like she’d never been before. Mmm. She was definitely going to take baths more often.

“Of course, ma’am.” Mary helped her into a soft mauve dress with long sleeves and a loose cut. “I thought the fit might be more comfortable, at least until dinner tonight.”

“Thank you.”

Mary also let her keep her hair down, simply pinning a couple locks out of her eyes.

“All right,” Mary said. “I’ll come find you when it’s time to get ready this evening.”

Aurelia impulsively gave her a hug, much to Mary’s gentle amusem*nt, then headed down to breakfast. Lord and Lady Greengrass and Ominis were already down.

“Morning, all,” she said. Both men stood.

“Good morning, darling,” Lady Greengrass said. “Oh, that looks much better. Come sit. These eclairs are divine.”

Smiling, Aurelia took what had become ‘her’ seat. Almost immediately, a servant set down a cup of tea in front of her that smelled of…actually, she wasn’t sure what it smelled like but Lady Greengrass nodded to her so she sipped at it.

“Did you rest well, Miss Green?” Lord Greengrass asked.

“I did, sir, thank you. I hope I didn’t embarrass anyone last night?”

“You were perfect, darling,” Lady Greengrass said. “And I do apologize for that woman. She’s a terrible gossip. By now, every House in the county knows we’re playing host to such fine young people.”

She beamed at both Aurelia and Ominis, who smiled.

“You are most gracious, my lady,” he said smoothly. Aurelia hummed, narrowing her eyes at him, before smiling at the Lord and Lady.

“Thank you,” she said. “Both of you. You’ve been very kind.”

Lady Greengrass was about to say something else when Dahlia and Anne came in and conversation turned to the events of the day. Aurelia let her vision Shift. A little backsliding, more than yesterday. Had she pushed too hard? None of the threads had broken and the corruption hadn’t changed form, exactly. Just…eaten some bits. So. No news was good news? She had a good idea of where to focus the most and what areas soothed others. Hopefully, they’d be inside most of the day and she could Work a good bit before Dahlia’s brother and his family arrived.

When breakfast ended, Dahlia went with her mother to put the finishing touches on the ball, Lord Greengrass went to his office for business, and Anne took Ominis and Aurelia to the conservatory because she ‘needed green things and silly board games.’

“What shall we play first?” Anne asked. “We could play checkers, whist, backgammon–or we could team up and try to kick Ominis’ ass at chess.”

“That’s precious,” Ominis said with a grin. Aurelia smiled.

“I could try learning chess,” she said. “Just a moment though. Ominis?”

“Yes, darling?”

She grabbed him by the front of his shirt and slammed him back onto a nearby table.

“Aurelia!” Anne cried.

“‘She has a lovely singing voice’?” Aurelia asked sweetly.

“You do!” Ominis held his hands up. “And you did very well, darling. Don’t let that old bat make you feel bad; she’s never happy about anything.”

“That part’s true,” Anne said, hand on her hip. “Her last recorded smile was in 1822 and I don’t know if she’s ever laughed.”

Aurelia let her power pulse through the hand that still held him down, quick and heavy, and Ominis’ eyes widened.

“All right! All right, darling. I’m sorry I put you on the spot like that. That type of social jockeying is common in situations like that but I didn’t think to explain and I don’t think Dahlia did either. I’m sorry. I was trying to give you an out.”

She narrowed her eyes.

“I suppose I should thank you for offering something I did know how to do,” she said. “But I’ve never sung in public before, you ass. You catching me while I’m studying doesn’t count.”

“Oh.” His expression softened. “I’m sorry, darling.” One long hand touched her wrist. “You really did sound lovely.”

Sighing, she hauled him back to his feet.

“Now I’m all rattled,” she said. “Anne, think you could kick his ass by yourself? My back is killing me.”

“You’re back?” Anne frowned. “Oh, the tea. So it’s…”

“Mm-hmm.”

“Right.” Anne squeezed her hand. “Come sit by the fire. We have blankets that are enchanted to keep warm.”

“What, really? That’s a thing?”

“Of course,” Ominis said, waving his wand over his shirt. “Just like there are clothes enchanted to right themselves after one’s been accosted.”

“You haven’t seen ‘accosted’ yet, you little sh*t.” Aurelia claimed the settee next to the fire, charmed at the way Anne tucked her in.

“Would you like some more tea?” she asked.

“I’m all right for now, thank you. Go on. Put him in his place.”

That damn smug chuckle again. Ominis walked by Aurelia, a gentle palm to the crown of her head, and sat down at a smaller table.

“Here we are,” Anne said, setting up the chess board. “Now, where were we?”

“I believe you were going to try and ‘put me in my place.’”

“This time for sure, Gaunt.”

Aurelia smiled, snuggling into the blankets, and went to Work.

*

“So,” Anne said. “Any romance on the horizon, Miss Green?”

Aurelia sipped her tea, debating whether she really wanted to try and eat right now. The sandwiches looked tasty but…

“No,” she said. “I’ve been so busy trying to catch up, I haven’t had much time for boys.”

“Mmm. Oh, that reminds me. Is Ben coming to the Ball? Ominis?”

“I don’t know,” Ominis said. “Was he invited?”

“I’m not sure. I just remember him being an exceptional dancer. Have you met him, Aurelia? Benedict Thompson?”

“I have.” Aurelia smiled. “He saved me from Prewett at the Halloween Ball. You’re right; he is a very good dancer. Very respectful.”

“Still with that perfect smile?”

“Unfairly perfect.”

Ominis sighed.

“Oh, don’t be like that,” Anne said. “He’s sweet. Anyone would be lucky to nab him. Right, Aurelia?”

“Could we talk about something else, please?” Ominis asked. “Darling, aren’t you still mad I made you sing last night?”

The girls laughed. That had ‘awkward older brother’ written all over it.

“Yes,” Aurelia said, taking pity on him. “And I will stick snow down the back of your shirt for it. Mark my words.”

“I’m terrified. Truly.”

“You’re an ass.”

Anne snickered and adjusted her blanket.

“I like this one, Ominis. We’re keeping her.”

“She’s not a dog,” Ominis said.

“Uh-huh.” Anne pushed the plate of sandwiches a little closer to Aurelia. “Eat something, sweetheart. I know you don’t want to but it’ll just make it worse later.”

“Easy, sweetheart. Can’t hog all the fun for yourself.”

Aurelia smiled past the lump in the throat and took one of the small roast beef, cheese, and spinach sandwiches.

“So,” she said, taking a bite. “Read any good books lately?”

“Not really. Think I’ve read every book in this house. Although, I did start rereading Ortus last week.”

“You still have that old thing?” Ominis asked.

“Of course I do. Don’t you have yours?”

“No. Burned it with the school-issued tie they got me.”

Aurelia snorted.

“Ponce,” she said.

“It’s called ‘having standards,’ darling. You should try it sometime.”

They laughed, Aurelia throwing a bit of crust at his face. He didn’t even blink.

“What’s the book about?” she asked.

“Coming of Age rites,” Anne said. “Well, technically they’re called ‘declaration rites’ but same thing. My mother had an altar at home for Demeter and I never understood why so Lord Greengrass got me a book about it. Apparently, Purebloods pick or divine a deity to worship when they become adults.”

“I remember Dahlia saying something like that.” During the funeral lesson. f*ck. “Have you thought about who you’ll pick?”

“Probably Demeter. Most families pick the same ones.”

“Most,” Ominis said. “But as I don’t fancy worshipping the Great Old Ones with sacrificial drowning, I’m probably going to be a rebel and break tradition.”

“Do the sacrifices have to be virgin?” Aurelia asked. Ominis choked.

“Excuse me?”

“Well, I know how that all works now so I was just wondering.”

“Oh my god.” He rubbed his face and Anne just laughed.

“You got that talk too, huh?” she asked. “Terrible, wasn’t it?”

“I will never unsee those diagrams.”

“What diagrams?” Ominis asked.

“Oh, nothing,” Anne said. But Aurelia was still feeling petty about last night and these hormones–that she had a name for now–seemed to be overriding her filters.

“I woke up bleeding this morning,” she said. “I panicked trying to clean it up and Lady Greengrass found me in the laundry. We then had a very thorough conversation with a lot of medical terms about how sex works, where babies come from, and why women feel like we’re going mad every three weeks.”

Anne burst out laughing, shaking her head, but Ominis looked horrified.

“I’m sorry; you woke up bleeding? Are you all right? Why didn’t you call for us? And why are you speaking of it so casually?”

“Apparently, it’s a natural thing. Every woman’s womb…do I want to be nice, Anne?”

“Please, no,” Anne said, her voice high with giggles.

“Wonderful. So every woman’s womb, once she gets to a certain age, changes its lining once a month if a baby hasn’t attached to it. But as there aren’t any hands up there, the muscles have to contract and push it all out like mini-labor contractions. And it’s red because everything on the inside is red.”

“My god.” Ominis turned back and forth between Anne and Aurelia. “And it happens every month?”

“Yes. But hey, at least we know f*cker was lying.”

“What?” Anne asked. “What f*cker?”

“Anne,” Ominis said. “Language.”

“Oh, piss off. I’ve heard you say worse. What f*cker?”

“All right, fine. Your nitwit of a brother claimed he went mad with passion and the love of his life cast him aside even though she was carrying his child.”

“What?!” Anne started swearing, switching back and forth between English, French, and what sounded like Parseltongue–which made Ominis laugh out loud. Too soon, though, her breath started to catch. Aurelia Shifted and Reached, coating the inflamed threads behind Anne’s lungs with her magic.

“Easy,” Ominis said, offering a glass of water. “Take a breath.”

“I’m fine.” Anne took a sip of water, her hands shaking. “I’m all right. I’m fine.”

Aurelia Worked carefully, moving in time with Anne’s breaths, and, slowly, the brunette started to calm down.

“Oof,” Anne said. “Sorry, you two.”

“Don’t apologize,” Aurelia said. “I had that reaction too.”

Anne shot her a shaky smile then patted Ominis’ hand.

“I’m all right,” she said. “This one wasn’t bad.”

“Maybe we should pause the game,” Ominis said.

“That sounds like a good idea. You were losing anyway.”

“Of course, dove.” He helped her to the settee and worked with Aurelia to get the frail girl bundled. It took a little bit to get them both settled to his liking, making the girls share a grin, then he pulled his chair closer to the fireplace.

“Sing for us,” Anne said.

“Bossy today,” Ominis said, amused.

“We don’t feel good. Your singing makes us feel better.”

He smiled, soft and indulgent.

“All right,” he said. “Any requests?”

“Aurelia, what do you think?”

She looked at Anne, felt her too-light weight settle against her, then at Ominis.

“Dealer’s choice.”

He nodded, stretching out his legs and leaning back in the chair.

“Nella fantasia io vedo un mondo giusto*
Li tutti vivono in pace e in onesta…”

Ah. Something not in English, something she didn’t have to follow. Aurelia closed her eyes with a smile. She was definitely buying him candy when they got back to Hogwarts.

Chapter 23

Chapter Text

Narcissus Greengrass was gorgeous. Tall and fit with wavy gold hair past his shoulders, the man looked like every painting she’d ever seen of the Archangel Michael. His wife, Margaret, was a slim, pretty brunette made even more beautiful by her laugh, and their three-year-old daughter, Calanthe, was an adorable bundle of brunette curls and antique lace. Aurelia couldn’t help but smile as the families greeted each other, heart warm at how genuinely happy they all seemed. Whatever the stories of Pureblood arrangements and stuffy politics, this House, at least, was good.

And she had no doubt Lady Greengrass had assured it. Memories of that cursed jewelry lesson with the tiara flashed through Aurelia’s mind and her smile widened. The older woman had seen a problem and railed against it instead of playing along. No wonder Ominis felt so safe here.

Narcissus greeted said blind man warmly, happy and vocal and announcing that he wanted to shake his hand. Margaret was just as sweet, quietly reminding their little girl how to say ‘hi’ to everyone, and when they got to Aurelia, it was just more of the same.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Aurelia said, bobbing in a quick curtsey. A deep burgundy satin tonight, contrasting the family’s array of emerald greens and deep blues. She wasn’t sure if Mary had done that on purpose but the violet the girls put Anne in made her glow so Aurelia wasn’t going to argue. The staff clearly knew what they were doing.

“A pleasure to meet you, Miss Green,” Narcissus said, kissing the back of her hand. No, she did not blush. “Dahlia’s told me so much about you.”

“Oh, that’s not terrifying at all.”

He smiled–lord have mercy–and after she greeted Margaret and ‘Callie,’ they all headed into the dining room. This meal was much livelier, full of stories that began with the younger Greengrass’ travels and somehow turned into the children trying to embarrass each other. No one was safe. By the time the main course was served, Aurelia had entirely forgotten that her head was killing her or that she wanted to claw out her insides.

“Better, right?” Anne asked.

“Much better,” Aurelia said. “How are you doing?”

“Surprisingly well.” She smiled. “I think I might be able to manage a couple songs tonight.”

“Watching or performing?”

“Both? Music is life in this House. That’s really what got Ominis to open up when he first came here.”

“I didn’t know that.” Aurelia glanced at Ominis and his happy smile as Margaret told him something. “I’m glad.”

“Me too.”

Ominis turned towards her, his smile turning a little mischievous. She narrowed her eyes.

“What?” she asked, a little sharper than she would’ve dared last night. “I have no problem feeding you to the plants again.”

Narcissus nearly choked on his drink.

“And what have you been getting into, Gaunt?” he asked. “Young Miss sounds fearsome.”

“Young Miss had to sing for the Rosiers last night,” she said. “Because that one had to volunteer her.”

Laughter rippled around the table.

“You already put snow in my hair,” Ominis said. “We’re even.”

“We are not.”

“It wouldn’t be so bad if he didn’t win every chess game we’ve played,” Anne said.

“Well,” Ominis said. “If you got better between visits, you wouldn’t lose so much.”

“Narcissus!”

The blonde snickered, eyes dancing as he looked at his sister.

“I think I’m being ‘volunteered’ as well.”

“You are,” Lord Greengrass said. “After dessert.” The older man smiled brightly at Callie. “We have chocolate mousse!”

The little girl cheered.

*

December 23rd. Aurelia sat on the window seat of her room, bundled in one of those enchanted blankets and watching the snowfall. The pads Lady Greengrass had given her were an absolute godsend, leaving Aurelia feeling clean and not anything like the swamp monster she’d been. Now if this pounding behind her eyes would just calm down. A headache like that would not work around a three-year-old and Anne adored the little girl so it wasn’t like Aurelia could stay away.

She sighed, resting her forehead against the chilled glass. The tea helped. She’d have to ask Mary for some more later. And at least the presents were all wrapped. Her gut twinged. She hoped they liked them. She hadn’t heard from Natty or Poppy yet, which meant they were waiting for Christmas proper like she asked. The thought made her smile.

A soft knock on the door made her turn.

“Come in,” she called.

“Good morning, ma’am.” Mary poked her head in with a smile. “Did you sleep well?”

“Better than yesterday.” After a night of music and cramping, Aurelia had pretty well passed out. At least until she felt wet on her face and realized she’d pushed too hard. No need to tell Ominis about the nosebleed though. He’d just get fussy.

“Shall we get ready for the day then?” Mary asked. “Would you like a bath first?”

“You know, I think I would. That jasmine oil you added yesterday made me feel so pretty.”

“I’m glad you liked it, ma’am. Give me just a moment to draw the bath.”

“Thank you, Mary.” She needed to get her a thank-you gift too. sh*t, and she hadn’t given Lady Greengrass her hostess gift yet. Oh, well. They were exchanging presents tomorrow. It would be fine.

Hopefully. Come to think of it, Dahlia hadn’t pulled her aside once since that night at the piano. Maybe she was just waiting until they got back to school? Actually, that would make sense. This was a vacation. Of course the older girl would want to spend time enjoying herself instead of babysitting Aurelia. Hmm. Add another thank-you gift to the list. Dahlia had no reason to take up with her and for the older girl to go so far as to open her home was beyond anything Aurelia could’ve asked for.

“Your bath is ready, ma’am.”

A project for later. Aurelia untangled from the blankets and padded into the washroom.

“The little one wanted to play outside today,” she said. “Didn’t she?”

“I believe so, ma’am. You brought slacks, yes? I’ll take care of it.”

“Thank you.” Aurelia sank into the tub with a sigh. When she grew up, she was going to spend all her money on a luxurious washroom like this. An amazing tub and an amazing library. Important things.

*

Laughter echoed over the hills as Callie ran full tilt through the snow. Her parents, grandparents, aunt, and adopted-aunt chased after her, stopping now and then to throw snow at each other. Aurelia and Ominis walked off to the side.

“How are you?” he asked.

“I’m all right.” She smiled at the sight of Narcissus picking up his wife bridal-style and spinning her around. “I’m so glad you found them. They’re so sweet.”

“They are, aren’t they? I’m very fortunate.” He turned his head slightly. “This suits you.”

“What, living like a rich person? Yes, I’d say it does. Just having someone wash my hair is enough for me to seriously consider marriage to some stuffed-shirt brat.”

He chuckled, shaking his head.

“We’ll see how you feel after the ball,” he said. “I promise the pool of available suitors is very shallow.”

“‘Available’ or ‘acceptable’?”

“Yes.”

She hummed, looking back towards the others. Anne had plopped down on the snow, laughing and cheering as Callie charged her father and grandparents. Ah, princess and monsters. Taking a breath, Aurelia set to Work.

“Darling.”

“Mmm.”

“Aurelia, stop. You don’t have to do this.”

“Have you been having fun?”

“Yes.”

“Has she?”

“Yes.”

“Then it’s fine.”

He sighed, covering her hand with his.

“Thank you,” he said quietly. “I’ll make this up to you. I promise.”

“That’s not why I’m doing this.”

“No, you’re doing this because you’re too kind for your own good.” He sighed again. “Would it be easier if we were closer?”

“It’s fine. I don’t want to get run over.”

“They’re off by the trees. It should be all right.”

“Oh. Then yes, please.”

Nodding, he took her over to Anne where he conjured a bench and thick quilt for them all.

“Our knight in patent leather boots,” Anne said, sitting between them.

“Excuse you,” Ominis said. “Dragonhide.”

“Are they really?” Aurelia looked down at his boots. “That…I don’t know how I feel about that.”

“I believe the term is ‘ethically sourced.’ My cobbler assures me the dragon was already dead when they harvested.”

“Your cobbler. You have a cobbler. A personal cobbler.”

“Sweetheart,” Anne said. “You underestimate the army of people necessary to keep rich people functioning. I heard Lady Lestrange requires six house elves just to go to the toilet.”

Aurelia chuckled, glancing at the snow, and folded her hands tight under the quilt. It was awkward trying to speak and Work at the same time but maybe being gentle would be better for both of them.

“Still worried about it, huh?” Anne sighed, leaning into Ominis. His hearthfire rose up around them. “You know Ominis wrote me about you from the very beginning.”

“Did he.”

“Mm-hmm. ‘Rapacious little upstart,’ I think was the phrase.”

Ominis groaned but Aurelia laughed at the impersonation.

“That was pretty good,” she said. “What does ‘rapacious’ mean?”

“Aggressively greedy,” Ominis said, a smirk on his lips. “I was feeling a little left out.”

“Mmm.” Aurelia looked at Anne. “What else did he say?”

“That you were insufferable, reckless, bull-headed to a fault–”

“Can ‘bull-headed’ even be a virtue?” Aurelia asked.

“If you’re a bull,” Ominis said.

“–and that you were being taken in by my brother just like everyone else.”

Aurelia shut her mouth. Anne looked at her, cheeks pink from the cold, eyes heavy from the curse.

“He didn’t used to be like that,” she said. “He was mischievous, a scamp, for sure. Got into trouble all the time but…it wasn’t like that. It wasn’t…” Anne swallowed, her voice cracking a little. “Ominis came to us after. Said you’d confessed to him, admitted to using Dark spells.”

“He had a right to know,” Aurelia said. “He had a right to know what he was getting into.”

Anne gave a sad smile.

“There it is,” she said. “That’s what made you come help us even when we’d been so awful. That’s what made Ominis give you a second chance.”

Aurelia frowned, grip loosening slightly on her magic.

“I don’t understand.”

“You will.” Anne took Aurelia’s hand, chilled despite the quilt and so thin. “You fought for us. Even though he hurt you. Even though they used you as bait.”

Aurelia blinked then looked sharply at Ominis, who quickly held up a hand.

“Nothing but conjecture, darling,” he said. “But if even half the rumors are true, you were not given a fair chance.”

“And yet you were fair to us.” Anne’s eyes began to well. “I wish we could’ve met before.”

Her own eyes burning, Aurelia gently squeezed Anne’s hand but the other girl pulled her into a hug instead.

“Thank you,” Anne whispered. “Thank you for trying.”

Aurelia swallowed hard, letting go when Anne did, and they turned to watch Hollis and Narcissus…

“What are they doing?” Anne asked.

“I believe they’re trying to see who can make the biggest castle,” Ominis said. “My money’s on Freya.”

“Ooh.” Anne wiped her eyes, settling in to watch with her hand still firmly in Aurelia’s. “Do you think they’ll have a trebuchet?”

“Knowing Narcissus? Probably three.”

Aurelia coughed, eyes and throat aching, and Reached with renewed energy. And if her nose did start bleeding, she passed the sniffing off as the cold. The others were none the wiser.

*

Christmas Eve morning, Lady Greengrass announced that all the girls would be getting ready together. Mary helped Aurelia with her bath, gave her some of that surprisingly effective tea, then they trekked across the house to Lady Greengrass’ suite. Dahlia and Anne were already there, chatting animatedly with the matriarch. Their gowns, glorious silks, satins, and velvets that made Aurelia swoon, hung on a rack against one wall. Mary added Aurelia’s gown to them.

“Good morning, darling,” Lady Greengrass said. “Come sit, have some breakfast. What would you like?”

“It all looks so tasty.” Aurelia took in the truly mouth-watering spread against the other wall. Meats, pastries, mini pies, fruit, fresh-baked bread and a selection of jewel-like preserves that glittered in the sun.

“There’s plenty,” Dahlia said. “And we’re still early enough that you won’t feel bloated when we dress so eat whatever you want.”

“You always know just what to say.” Aurelia got a plate and felt only slightly guilty loading it with one of everything. Anne patted the settee next to her.

“Lady Greengrass was just telling us of her first Yule Ball,” she said. “Which suitor was it that fell into the fountain?”

“Richard,” Lady Greengrass said, shaking her head. “Gods bless him, he tried. Poor dear couldn’t tie his shoes without help. He was pretty though.”

“He’s still pretty,” Dahlia said. “It’s rude.”

“Speaking of pretty,” Anne said. “When will Aran get here?”

The others laughed, Dahlia trying and failing to not look pleased at the compliment.

“He’ll arrive with his parents,” she said. “With the rest of the guests.”

“Aww.” Anne turned to Aurelia. “You have Alchemy with him, right? Does he hog the desk?”

Aurelia, who had just taken a probably-too-large bite of her strawberry, floundered a bit, drawing more easy laughter.

“Sorry,” she said, dabbing her mouth with a napkin. “No, he’s very considerate. Although, sometimes I let my handwriting get lazy just to see his eye twitch.”

“That’s my girl,” Dahlia said. “And you brought the purple gown. Very good.”

“I brought everything I own. Is that appropriate? Or do I need to frantically transfigure something out of a tablecloth?”

“That’s perfectly suitable, darling,” Lady Greengrass said. “It’s winter so darker colors are preferred and that satin will look marvelous on your skin tone.”

“That’s thanks to your daughter.”

Lady Greengrass patted Dahlia’s hand with a smile.

“I do want to address the slight elephant in the room though,” the older woman said. “As this will affect how we introduce you and how your dance card plays out. Are you in the market for a husband?”

“God, no.” Aurelia coughed into her hand. “Sorry. No, my lady. I am not looking for a husband. Besides, Ominis said the pool of acceptable suitors is very shallow.”

Anne snickered and took a sip of her tea.

“He’s not wrong,” she said. “All the good ones are already taken.”

“Are you looking for a Mr. Right then?”

“Maybe. We’ll see if anyone catches my eye. Or falls into a fountain.”

“Good morning, all.” Margaret came in as they were laughing, hand in hand with an already bouncy Callie. Aurelia gratefully took the chance to fade into the background, overwhelmed with the sense of…family. She’d never been around this many women that wasn’t a church event or wedding full of stress and drama. She’d certainly never been around this many women that she liked. Would this be what Dahlia’s wedding would be like? Aurelia had heard of such things for the upper classes, the bride, her mother, and all her attendants laughing and talking and getting their hair done.

Aurelia felt a sharp pang in her chest. That would be nice.

Anne’s laughter reminded her what she was really doing here so, as she ate and the others talked, Aurelia Looked at the damage. Yesterday was more active, what with the snowfights, but Anne seemed to have rested well. Holding her up for the Ball though…Aurelia hadn’t worked on her with this many distractions but it seemed she was stuck with the group until evening.

Taking a breath, she set to it. Her cramps tightened in response, making her shift uncomfortably, but it was a tolerable pain. Besides, she’d be able to take a break at the absurdly formal dinner that night. Dahlia had mentioned in one of their lessons how long those events took, each course a performance unto itself. Aurelia would just have to be careful of any wine. She’d never been drunk and this was not the place to find out what kind of drunk she was.

“You’re awfully quiet,” Anne said. “Are you all right?”

“Yes.” Aurelia smiled at her. “Just cramping some. I’ll be all right for the Ball tonight.”

Anne squeezed her hand and asked one of the lady’s maids for a big enchanted blanket.

“We can snuggle together,” she said. And so they did. At one point, Anne even dozed, which made it that much easier for Aurelia to work while she pretended to be asleep too. The curse was actively fighting her now. For every thread she Soothed, another began to fray. It felt like she was trying to plug leaks in a ship while more burst above her head. She could feel the malice in the magic. God, she wished she’d been able to keep Rookwood alive.

She wished she could’ve tortured the answer out of him.

There was just so much damage. Everything felt porous, brittle, like a hug too strong or a wind too fierce could shatter the girl into a million pieces. Aurelia had been helping with the pain, which was good, but actually healing that damage…She knew she’d have to physically regrow those organs and bones but fighting something this aggressive at the same time? He had hinted at what they’d tried before. One doctor actually gave her a modified skele-gro potion but it only lasted five minutes.

It was just management now. Whatever potions Anne took when they weren’t looking, whatever Aurelia was able to do, it was just stealing time. But Aurelia Green was a stubborn, greedy, hateful girl and she was going to steal as much f*cking time as she could.

Eventually, one of the lady’s maids took Callie to wind down for bed and the rest of them set about getting the ladies ready. Aurelia carefully Withdrew, discreetly dabbing the blood from her nose, and asked for some more of that tea.

“Oh, you’re looking a bit pale, darling,” Lady Greengrass said, touching her forehead. “And you’re a bit warm. Trying to come down with something?”

“Ominis might’ve put some snow in my hair.”

“Rude,” Anne said. “You should step on him when you dance.”

“Oh, that’ll happen anyway.”

Lady Greengrass gave her something called a ‘pepper-up’ potion that did wonders for her headache and the stiff soreness in her limbs. Then Mary started working her magic.

“You have gorgeous hair,” Margaret said.

“Thank you,” Aurelia said. “I’ve been trying to take better care of it.”

“Because I fussed at you for it.” Dahlia looked over at her from her own chair. “An updo, Mary. That neckline needs to be seen.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Aurelia smiled. Around the room, every woman had a maid fluttering about them, helping with nails, make-up, hair, jewelry, shoes, and undergarments. Aurelia felt her chest squeeze. Even if she never came back, even if this was a charitable afterthought, she’d cherish today for the rest of her life.

“Miss?” Mary gently touched Aurelia’s shoulder.

“Sorry.” Aurelia smiled. “I’m fine.”

Mary nodded with a knowing smile and went back to work.

Chapter 24

Chapter Text

Lady Greengrass led the way downstairs in an elegant gown of emerald green satin edged with sable and studded with tiny diamonds to match her diamond collar necklace and drop earrings. Margaret, as the next married lady, followed in burgundy silk and white ermine with pearls around her neck and dangling from her ears. Then Dahlia in sapphire blue velvet that showed off her svelte figure to perfection, a tasteful sapphire pendant around her neck edged in diamonds. Anne wore magenta satin, a single strand of pearls accenting the healthy blush on her cheeks, and Aurelia herself wore the plum satin gown she’d commissioned from Madam Malkin’s all those months ago.

Every lady had long white gloves and their hair up and, for the first time in her life, Aurelia felt like she belonged in this world.

The men met them in the foyer. The guests would be arriving soon and they’d all need to be in position for the receiving line.

“Perfect as always, my love,” Lord Greengrass said. The men’s clothes reminded Aurelia of the white-tie tuxedos and gloves she’d seen in fashion magazines except with robes over the jackets cut for flattery and drama. Lord Greengrass had a green pocket square and diamond cufflinks to match his wife. Narcissus matched Margaret, the two the picture of beauty when he greeted her. So cute. Aran would no doubt match Dahlia when he got here, or at least hint at it with his choice of metal accents.

Ominis wore no color at all, simple and striking in black and white.

“Ominis!” Anne went straight to him. “You must put your name on my dance card.”

“Oh, must I?” He smiled, charmed, and Aurelia’s stomach twinged. “The ball’s not even started. Is that entirely appropriate?”

“It’s not appropriate to be abysmal on the floor either.” Anne put her card and pencil in his hands. “I want at least a few dances where I don’t fear for my life.”

“All right, dove, all right.” He obediently wrote down his name and she went off to get Narcissus and Lord Greengrass.

“She’s got you all wrapped around her little finger,” Aurelia said. Ominis’ smile seemed to soften and he held out his hand.

“Hello, darling. All right?”

“Yes.” She let him kiss the back of her hand, ignoring the heat in her cheeks. “I feel like a princess.”

“Then Mary did her job.”

“How are you?”

“Oh, I’m all right. Just bracing for an evening of ignoring fools and sycophants.”

“Well, you’ll just have to sit next to me then, help me remember which fork to use and make sure I don’t eat the garnish.”

“That’s not up to me, darling. Dinners this fancy have assigned seating. There will be little place cards at every setting.”

sh*t. Right, Dahlia did tell her that.

“Eh.” Aurelia shrugged. “You’re blind. How would you know what seat you’re at?”

He chuckled, drawing her close. Ah, everyone else was lining up on the other side of the hall. People must be arriving.

“You’re terrible,” he said.

“You adore me.”

“We can both be right.” He tilted his head. “How are you really? I don’t like how you’re moving.”

“I hurt but the tea helped.”

“Darling…”

“Ominis.” She slipped her wrist into his hand. “I’m all right.”

He frowned, fingers pressing a little tighter against her pulse. She covered his hand with hers.

“Will you put your name on my card too?”

“Of course.” He stroked her wrist with his thumb once before letting go. “Give me the pencil.”

*

Thankfully, Lady Greengrass was the consummate hostess, which meant that she assigned the seats according to who would get on the best. Awkward silences were the death knell of formal events, after all. For Aurelia, that meant she got to sit next to Ominis with Anne on his other side.

There was also a surprising amount of their schoolmates among the guests. Or maybe not so surprising, considering how many Purebloods went to Hogwarts. Aurelia spotted almost all of Slytherin, including Ben, who sat across from Ominis, and a good number of Ravenclaws. She was the only Hufflepuff though and it was probably better for everyone that Garreth wasn’t there. She wasn’t sure if this house could survive a bored Garreth Weasley.

Dinner was delicious–if a little strange. Again, Aurelia didn’t recognize a lot of what they ate and what she did recognize wasn’t in a form she was familiar with. She had no idea potatoes could be cut that thinly or that beef could be arranged to look like a flower. Still, she ate and talked and tried not to swear even when Ominis and Anne seemed determined to get her to choke. Honestly, those two together was perhaps the worst idea in the history of creation. Anne was sassy and free-spirited with anyone who spoke with her, and Ominis’ hearing meant he could mutter commentary under his breath that would’ve had Aurelia screaming if they were back at Hogwarts.

“You two are going to be the death of me,” she whispered. He just smirked behind his glass of wine.

“Am I wrong?”

“No, he absolutely looks like a baby mandrake shagged a teddy bear but you can’t say sh*t like that to me in public!”

“Sounds like a personal problem.”

She pinched his leg under the table, making him chuckle.

“Behave,” he said.

“You first.”

“Then who would tell you that those two down at the end are having a torrid affair?”

“How do you know that?”

“How they’re interacting.” He tilted his head, listening. “They’re far too familiar. See how he leans in? And she’s breathing much too hard for just a roast salmon.”

“Maybe her corset’s too tight.” She shifted a little in her own. “They’re not what you call ‘comfortable.’”

“Maybe if she were wearing it properly, it wouldn’t be such a bother.”

She glanced at the woman in question. All right, fair. The woman seemed to have a bet going whether her gown could cover her nipples or not.

“But what are you doing discussing that?” Aurelia asked. “Hardly gentlemanly conversation.”

“Oh, you want ‘gentlemanly.’ All right.” He turned just the slightest bit, lips twitching as if he wanted to respond to whatever he was hearing. “Five seats past Anne, across, and three further down. He’s made six comments in the last ten minutes about the ‘diamond in the rough’ down this end.”

“It’s like you’re narrating a quidditch match.”

“He’s talking about you, darling.” His eyes narrowed slightly. “We may have to have words later.”

“Cinnamon roll, remember? I’m the scary one.”

“Mmm.”

She just smiled, shaking her head as she looked around. Anne had been caught up in conversation with Ben for the last little bit–adorable. Dahlia was way down there, entertaining whatever adults were with her. Margaret was at the other end chatting with Aran’s parents. Lady Greengrass caught Aurelia’s eye and Aurelia smiled, raising her glass a bit in toast. The older woman just grinned and kept talking with…god, Aurelia was never going to remember all these names. Maybe they could make flashcards later.

Eventually, dinner wrapped up and everyone made their way to the ballroom where Lord and Lady Greengrass opened the dancing with a waltz.

“All right, Ominis.” Anne grabbed his hand. “You promised.”

“Yes, dove, I know.” He turned towards Aurelia. “Darling?”

“I’m all right.” Aurelia gave him a little shove. “Go have fun.”

He gave her a grateful smile and turned to follow Anne onto the floor. Damn. When was the last time they danced together? She could barely stand up straight when Aurelia first met her. This week might well be the most active she’d been in years.

Aurelia quickly sobered at the thought. Right.

*

Ben was first, Aurelia’s already scattered concentration made even worse because he really was a good dancer and a sweetheart. Then Ominis came for his turn.

“Well done,” he said, taking her back to her seat after. “I still have eight of my toes.”

“Oh, poor dear, I must try harder next time. I was trying for six.”

Smirking, he bowed over her hand.

“Are you all right here?” he asked.

“I’m fine.” She squeezed his fingers. “Oh, there’s Imelda. Go say ‘hi.’”

He rolled his eyes with a put-upon sigh but obediently walked away, leaving Aurelia to focus back on Anne. So far, so good.

Anne was moving so fast though. It wasn’t like sitting next to her in the library where her core stayed in one place and she just threw chess pieces at Ominis’ head. The girl was twirling and dancing across the floor, light as a feather, and though her laughter rising above the music made Aurelia smile, it was a bitch to try and keep track. Thank god she had practice chasing Natty across Defense class.

Then Anne tripped, stumbled. There was a bit of fuss that she quickly waved off and Aurelia’s stomach clenched. If the other girl wasn’t careful, she’d push herself too hard. Aurelia couldn’t blame her; if she were suddenly free of that kind of pain, she’d probably go a little crazy too. But she didn’t want Anne to hurt herself just because she couldn’t feel it.

Aurelia Looked closer. No, there were still plenty of frayed threads that kept trying to unravel despite her best efforts. Anne still hurt. She was just being stubborn.

God, but her bones were so brittle. And the muscles–Aurelia had seen denser lace. Even if there was some kind of boning…Oh. Oh, now there was an idea. She tilted her head and imagined a thin line of her own magic down the back of Anne’s legs. It shimmered, wavered, but she could See some of the threads reacting to it. Almost…reaching?

She wove more threads off the main, carefully building up a thin, delicate lattice around Anne’s legs like netting on a fascinator. Not too much. Aurelia could feel her magic crackling in her own limbs, building in her chest. It wanted to burst out, light the sky like it so often did when she called down lightning or split the earth in one strike. Not here. She forced herself to breathe, to swallow. Thinner, thinner, more flexible.

Anne’s magic seemed to hum and settle in reaction to Aurelia’s and when Anne twirled, her steps shuddered through the netting, not her own leg. Aurelia licked her lips. So it was taking the load off, distributing the weight like a hoop-skirt. All right, she could work with this.

“Darling, there are procedures for this.” Lady Greengrass’ hissed words made her jump seconds before she felt a cloth pressed to her face. “Blood magic is not something you do on your own.”

Aurelia caught the handkerchief pressed to her nose and sniffed. sh*t. Another nosebleed.

“My lady, I would love to respond,” she said. “But I honestly don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Lady Greengrass pursed her lips and glanced over her shoulder to the dance floor.

“Come,” she said. “We shall take a turn about the room.”

sh*t. But Aurelia couldn’t refuse without causing a scene and that would distract her even further so she just nodded and let the older woman tuck her hand in her arm. A quiet murmur from Lady Greengrass stopped her nosebleed and cleaned her up.

“Oh, so good to see you this evening,” Lady Greengrass said with a bright smile to someone. “Having a good time? Wonderful. Oh, that’s a lovely color on you. You’re positively glowing.”

As they walked, Lady Greengrass greeted whomever they passed and when someone tried to speak to Aurelia, the Lady deflected so all Aurelia had to do was her little bob. Meanwhile, Anne had moved on to her next dance partner. Ominis was dancing with Nerida and Ben was off…somewhere. Aurelia Followed, continuing the lattice up Anne’s back and arms. Her head was pounding, a sharp, throbbing pain through the top of her skull, and she felt like she might fly right out of her skin. But it was working. f*ck, if only that stupid curse would stop fighting back. As soon as she finished one lattice, the curse ate away at another one, and while she tried to fix that, the threads started to fray again. Why was it so active now? She hadn’t had this much trouble the whole trip. What the f*ck.

“There are twelve dances in all,” Lady Greengrass said under her breath. Aurelia wanted to scream. Instead, she just nodded and swallowed the blood draining from her nose.

*

The final dance. Lady Greengrass discreetly patted Aurelia’s hand.

“I have to dance with my husband and make closing remarks.”

Aurelia nodded, more grateful than ever that the Lady had been holding her up this whole time. The floor kept trying to drop her and everything ached.

“May I be excused to the washroom?” she asked.

“Of course. Mary.”

Mary appeared at their side.

“Take her to the washroom,” Lady Greengrass said. “I’ll be there shortly.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Aurelia poured what was left of her energy into staying upright as they headed out into the hall. The cooler air felt like a balm but the floor kept tipping, colors flickering around her, and her ears rang so loud, she thought she might vomit.

f*ck.

They made it to the washroom and Aurelia immediately hit her knees at the nearest toilet.

“Oh, Miss!”

Blood. sh*t, she was vomiting blood. Squeezing her eyes shut, she tried not to look or smell. Just get it out of her system. She’d be fine. She’d been this hurt before and survived. The ball would end soon and she could rest and she’d be fine.

“Ceres preserve us!”

Oh. Lady Greengrass was back. Was she done already?

“Child, you’ve done enough.” A vial at her mouth, cool liquid down her throat. “Let go now. It’s all right.”

Aurelia shook her head.

“If I let go too fast,” she said, voice hoarse. “She could collapse. I’m holding her up. It has to be gradual.”

“Gods.” Another vial, then another. The nausea ebbed though her head still throbbed and her vision kept jumping. Somebody was crying. She couldn’t tell who.

Finally, she was able to sit up. Both women helped her to her feet and set about cleaning her up.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I didn’t mean to be so much trouble.”

“Darling.” Lady Greengrass cupped her face, mouth firm, eyes wet yet fierce. “You are makhitis.* You are no trouble. Do you understand?”

Her muscles cramped and her stomach tried to argue. Aurelia nodded.

“Good,” Lady Greengrass said. “Can you reach her from your room?”

“Yes. I think so.”

“Mary, take her upstairs. Make sure no one sees or disturbs her. Once she’s finished, give her Dreamless Sleep.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Mary wrapped a steadying arm around Aurelia’s waist. “Come, Miss. It’s time to rest.”

Aurelia swallowed, eyes stinging.

“Thank you. And thank you, Lady Greengrass. Thank you so much.”

“Thank you, my darling,” Lady Greengrass said, her voice thick. “Off you go.”

Aurelia nodded again. She’d managed to hold the lattice work while they’d been in here. Best to keep holding it until she got to her room, then she could start letting threads fade.

“Oh.” She looked back. “Please, don’t tell Ominis.”

Lady Greengrass held up her hand.

“Not a word.”

“Thank you.”

Mary got Aurelia up to her room through a couple of cleverly hidden servant’s doors and quickly took off her gown.

“Almost there, Miss.”

A loose cotton nightgown over her head then Mary helped her lie down. Aurelia bit back a whimper. f*ck, everything hurt.

“I’ll be right back, Miss,” Mary said. “I’m just off to get that Dreamless Sleep for you.”

“Thank you.” Aurelia closed her eyes, Finding Anne in the foyer saying goodbyes, and Reached for the lattice work. The curse had eaten a good chunk of it while she’d been in the washroom. Less she had to undo. Slowly, she let go point by point, thread by thread, until it was just faint, translucent wisps of her power trying to smooth the frays.

Anne was wavering, the night ‘catching up with her.’ Aurelia could See her form sagging a little against Ominis. True to form, the man started leading her upstairs. Aurelia Followed them to Anne’s room, finally letting go completely when Anne had settled into bed.

Aurelia gasped into the dark, stomach roiling again as she ran to the washroom and threw up more blood. A cool, wet washcloth on her forehead made her jump.

“It’s all right, Miss,” Mary said gently. “Here. Drink this. It will help.”

Aurelia drank whatever the woman gave her and let her put her to bed.

Chapter 25

Chapter Text

Christmas morning surely dawned bright and beautiful. Aurelia didn’t see it. She didn’t see any light whatsoever until past well lunch and she didn’t have the energy to feel guilty about it.

Well. Maybe a little guilty.

“Not to worry, Miss,” Mary said. “The mornings after balls are all very late, sometimes not even ‘mornings’ anymore.”

“Are the others awake?”

“They are. They’re beginning to gather in the parlor for presents. Lord and Lady Greengrass aren’t down yet so you have time for a bath, if you like.”

“Thank you, Mary.” Aurelia dug into her bag and pulled out her money pouch. She tipped a few galleons into her hand, shaking her head at the way her brain wouldn’t do math, then just put it all back and handed her the pouch.

“Oh!” Mary held up her hands. “Miss, I couldn’t possibly!”

“Yes, you can. You’ve been amazing. If you won’t take it for you, use it to fix whatever I ruined. Happy Christmas.”

“I…” Mary hesitated a second longer before gingerly taking the pouch. “Miss Green, I…I don’t know what you did or how but…I haven’t seen Miss Anne so happy in a very long time.” She looked up with tears in her eyes. “Thank you. Thank you so much.”

Aurelia smiled.

“Happy Christmas, Mary.”

“Happy Christmas, Miss. I’ll just…I’ll draw your bath for you, shall I?”

A long, luxurious bath later, Aurelia put on a long-sleeved dress of brushed, burgundy satin, gathered the presents she’d brought, and headed downstairs.

“Happy Yule, Aurelia!” Anne cried, jumping up to give her a hug. Aurelia smiled, dizzy with relief that the girl hadn’t crashed too badly.

“Happy Yule,” she said. “How are you feeling?”

“Little tired but I’ll be all right through presents. Did you sleep well?”

“Like a log. Do we have a present pile yet or…?”

“Yes, just under the tree there.” Anne pointed to a massive Christmas tree sparkling with crystals and ribbons in the corner. Aurelia wasn’t sure how she missed that or how she missed Ominis standing patiently next to it.

“Hello, darling,” he said with a smile. “Happy Yule.”

“Happy Yule, Ominis. One second.” She added her presents to the truly ridiculous amount under the tree then gave him a ginger hug. “Did you have fun last night?”

“I did.” His arm around her waist, though warm, was careful and he lowered his head slightly. “How are you?”

“Bit knackered, to be honest.” She squeezed him once before letting go. “And hungry. Is there any hot chocolate?”

“Oh, yes,” Anne said. “There’s hot chocolate and scones and sawmill gravy and muffins and cinnamon rolls, everything you could think of. It’s all set up in the dining room but you can bring it in here.”

“I could go for a cinnamon roll.”

Ominis playfully wrinkled his nose at her, making her chuckle.

“Anyone want anything?” she asked.

“I’ll come with you.” He walked with her back to the dining room where Narcissus was helping Callie pick out her food.

“Ah, Happy Yule, Miss Green,” he said.

“Happy Yule, Mr. Greengrass,” Aurelia said. “Miss Callie. What’ve you got there?”

“It’s a chicken pasty,” the little girl said proudly.

“That looks tasty. Maybe I’ll try one of those too.”

By then, the rest of the family had arrived. Dahlia, Margaret, Narcissus, and Lord Greengrass elected to eat breakfast in the dining room with Callie while Lady Greengrass joined Ominis, Anne, and Aurelia in the parlor.

“Rest well, darling?” the Lady asked lightly.

“I did, thank you.” Aurelia smiled, hoping Lady Greengrass could see how grateful she really was. “And I apologize for my timing but I have your hostess gift.”

“Oh, child, you needn’t worry about that.”

“No, no, I did have at least some manners before I got to Hogwarts.” She summoned the box from the pile.

“All two of them?” Ominis asked.

“Two and a half, you brat.” She gave the Lady the box. “I hope it’s all right.”

“Whatever it is, I’m sure it’s perfect–oh!” Lady Greengrass quickly wiped her hands and picked up the ivory chiffon scarf with reverent fingers. “Oh, darling, it’s gorgeous!”

“What is it?” Anne asked.

“It’s a scarf embroidered with poinsettias. And it’s beaded! Thank you, sweet girl. It’s beautiful.”

“Thank you for welcoming me into your home,” Aurelia said. Across the room, Ominis chuckled.

“Lady Greengrass, I should tell you,” he said. “When Miss Green said she’s been embroidering and beading since she was young, she meant that in the muggle way.” He gestured towards her. “That is all done by hand, no magic. Just needle, thread, and patience.”

Lady Greengrass blinked first at Ominis then at Aurelia.

“But it’s so detailed! And the colors fade so smoothly.” She squeezed Aurelia’s hand. “Beautiful work, my darling. Truly. Hollis, come look at this.”

The others trooped in and there was some shuffling of seats as Lady Greengrass showed off her new scarf. Aurelia couldn’t help but blush under the praise.

“Hold your head up,” Ominis said next to her. “You worked hard on that.”

“How do you know?” she asked.

“Because you work hard on everything.”

Smiling, she bumped his shoulder.

“Well,” Lord Greengrass said, clapping his hands. “I say it’s time for Yule presents! Callie, my love, would you like to help give them out?”

The little girl hopped up to help her grandpa and soon paper and ribbons and tissue covered the floor. It was chaos, warm and happy and loud, and Aurelia sat back to watch with a soft smile.

“You made these too?!” Anne held up the dove grey silk gloves embroidered with daisies. “They’re so pretty! And so soft. Margaret, feel these.”

“The daisies are for innocence and loyal love,” Aurelia said. “I probably should’ve asked if flowers meant something different in the magical world so if I accidentally insulted anyone’s mother, I apologize.”

They just laughed.

“So what does mine mean?” Dahlia asked, holding up her pale blue wristlet purse.

“That’s myrtle. It’s for good luck and love in marriage.”

“Oh, that’s perfect.” She slipped the strap onto her wrist. “Beautiful, thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

“Well, don’t just sit there,” Ominis said. “You have presents too.”

“Here.” Anne dropped a small present in Aurelia’s lap. “Open mine first.”

Aurelia obeyed, ripping the paper because everyone else did, to reveal a green, leather-bound book with ‘Ortus’ embossed and gilded on the cover. Wait.

“Anne…” It was worn, well-loved, with notes all through the pages and tiny drawings in the corners. Anne smiled.

“I’ve read it a thousand times,” she said. “But Ominis said you’ve been interested in learning about magical culture so there we are.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure. Especially after these gloves.” She wiggled her now-gloved fingers. “Happy Yule, sweetheart.”

“Thank you.” Aurelia hugged her.

“Mine next,” Ominis said.

“Bossy.”

“Hurry up.”

“I will push you into the tree.”

“No, you won’t because Lady Greengrass took a lot of time decorating.”

“All right, I’ll push you in the fireplace.”

“But I’ll get dirty.”

Anne giggled, drawing a wink from Aurelia as she opened Ominis’ gift. It was another book, heavier, with a red cover embossed in silver.

“‘Queen,’” she read, flipping to the contents. “Oh, it’s historical queens and princesses! Thank you.” She hugged him tight. “Are they witches? Were they witches?”

“A good many of them. Queen Boudicca, for example, was said to be the fury of the storm incarnate.”

“That’s fantastic.” She hugged both books to her chest. “Thank you. All right, your turn.”

Across the room, the adults had fallen into talking about the ball last night while Callie attempted to make a fort with all the paper scraps. Aurelia focused on Ominis, feeling almost like the two of them were in their own little bubble. He carefully took the lid off the box and reached inside.

“It’s so soft.” He pulled out the scarf of fine, black wool, his long fingers running along the length to the tiny embroidered flowers on the ends. “What are they?”

“Edelweiss. They’re little white flowers that mean courage and devotion.”

His smile softened and he promptly wrapped the scarf around his neck.

“Thank you, darling.”

She squeezed his hand.

“You’re welcome.”

The rest of their presents came from the Greengrasses (for Ominis and Anne) and classmates, mostly candy, books, and biscuits. Anne fell to giggling at the notes that came with hers and Aurelia seriously considered just chucking Garreth’s outside to be safe. It was, fortunately, just a book about weird herbs, though she still didn’t think she should read it in mixed company.

“Uh-oh,” Lady Greengrass said. “Looks like we missed one.” She brought a small package over to Aurelia with a warm smile. “Happy Yule, my darling.”

“Oh. My lady, you didn’t have to–”

“Yes, well, the nice thing about being Lady of the House is I get to do as I please.”

Aurelia flushed.

“Thank you, Lady Greengrass.” She ripped off the paper to reveal a finely made box of rich, dark wood with a brass flower clasp. It unhooked easily and when she opened it, she nearly dropped the whole thing.

“Breathe, darling,” Ominis said. “What is it?”

Aurelia gaped up at Lady Greengrass, who’d returned to her seat next to her son. The older woman just smiled, nodding to the box, and Aurelia swallowed hard.

“It’s a bath set,” she said quietly. “I really liked the jasmine oil Mary put in the bath. It’s soaps and perfumes and–god, I’ve never had anything this nice.”

Ominis smiled and hugged her shoulders.

“Happy Yule, darling.”

*

It had never been so hard to go back to school. The rest of Christmas break had flown by in a happy blur. Aurelia hadn’t done any more major work on Anne–hadn’t been able to–but she still felt like she was moving through a haze all through Transfiguration. She was happy to be back, happy to see her friends, happy to thank them for their presents and catch their hugs when they tried to tackle her. There were just a lot of cobwebs and everything, from her toes to her hair, was sore.

She didn’t even know her hair could be sore.

Now, more than ever, she was glad she’d worked ahead. It let her coast through the first few days back without feeling too incredibly guilty. Of course, she still took notes. Wednesday’s free period would be a perfect revision day, adding whatever ideas she’d thought of in class to the papers she’d already done.

It also helped how happy Ominis was. He and the other Slytherins couldn’t stop talking about the Yule Ball, telling and retelling and one-upping each other with stories of that night. Dahlia had notes on Aurelia’s conduct, detailed, incredibly specific notes, but Ominis calmed Aurelia by saying the blonde was being nitpicky because Aurelia had done so well. Well enough, at least, for a muggleborn guest. If she wanted to be able to blend into Pureblood high society, it would take time. Experience had to be the other teacher.

By Friday, Aurelia felt like she was beginning to settle and after a rousing duel with Natty that ended with pink hair on both of them, she headed back to her Room for a well-deserved nap.

“Hello, darling.”

“Jesus!” Aurelia jumped out of her skin. “Ominis!”

“There you go.” He sat on an armchair she didn’t remember conjuring, legs crossed, hands in his lap. “How was Defense?”

“Good. I won.”

“Mmm. Feeling better then?” He held up a bit of white cloth between his thumb and forefinger and her stomach dropped when she recognized Lady Greengrass’ handkerchief on his knee, still stained with blood. sh*t. Had someone sent it to him? No, Lady Greengrass had been so careful to keep Aurelia hidden. He must’ve found it after.

“I seem to remember having a conversation about this,” he said. “About honesty, communication.”

“Yes, and if you remember more recently, I told you smoothing frays made my head hurt.”

“Yes. It made your head hurt.” He delicately folded the handkerchief as he spoke. “I am intimately familiar with the smell of blood, darling. And though this does explain Lady Greengrass’ exceptional gift, it does not explain why you chose to keep this from me. I thought we were past that.”

Aurelia took a slow, deep breath and started fiddling with the loom that never stopped clacking.

“I’m fine,” she said. “Lady Greengrass and Mary gave me some potions. I’m perfectly healthy.”

“You lied to me.”

“No, I didn’t. I told you what I knew to be true at the time.”

“What changed? Where did the blood come from?”

“That blood came from a nosebleed.”

“‘That’ blood? As in you had more than one kind? Are we speaking of more than just your courses?” He stood slowly and smoothly to his full height. “I promised I would conduct our discussions differently. Please, do me the same courtesy.”

Growling, she rubbed her face then came over to slap her wrist into his palm.

“Soothing the frays gave me a headache,” she said. “It got worse the longer I worked but I could handle it. Then Anne tripped during the…third dance? I got worried she might push too hard so I started making a lattice to support her.” She pulled up his other hand and conjured hat netting over his fingers. “I’d never tried it before and it took a lot out of me but I didn’t want to let go because I was already trying to hold a thunderstorm in a teacup and if I messed up the balance, something could’ve exploded. I didn’t want to break her in the release.”

He closed his fingers around her wrist, firm and solid. When he swallowed, she noticed the muscle in his jaw twitch.

“Like scaffolding,” he said. “On the side of a building.”

“Yes. Yes, actually, that’s exactly what it was. But the curse kept fighting me so I spent the entire night with Lady Greengrass rebuilding everything the curse ate. It was like painting in the rain. Every time I fixed one spot, another fell apart. I didn’t have time to tell you.”

His thumb stroked along her pulse.

“Do you understand why I’m upset?” he asked.

“Because it reminded you too much of Anne?”

“No. Well, yes, but it also reminded me of Sebastian. He was brilliant too, creative, driven. In another world, you two would be off creating new magic and giving me gray hair every other week. But this desperate obsession is what took him away in the first place and I…”

Closing his eyes, he took a slow, deep breath.

“Please, don’t do that again.”

sh*t. Aurelia brought the hand on her wrist up to her neck and his eyes widened slightly at the change before he shook the netting from his fingers and clasped the other side too.

“I’m going to write everything down,” she said. “Once my head’s clear. And I’m going to write down any questions I can think of.”

There’d just been so much damage. So much. All that power coursing through her body and she couldn’t even save a little girl. She hated it. She hated that this was probably Anne’s last Christmas, hated that all she could do was simply ‘make her comfortable’ like the church workers at the hospital.

Her eyes ached and her lungs tightened. She swallowed, felt his hands clock the motion as he’d surely clocked everything else.

“It won’t happen again,” she said. He frowned and for a single, hopeful second, she thought maybe he didn’t understand. Then his eyes widened and she watched his heart crack before he leaned in to rest his forehead against hers. His chest shuddered. His hands tightened, twitched, and hers reached up to grip his wrists. She wanted to apologize. She wanted to cry, scream, beg forgiveness, but she just held him and…waited.

Soon, too soon in her mind, he took a wet breath and his magic coiled tight and quiet. Not the mask, not entirely, but awfully damn close.

“So,” he said. “You’re going to write down everything. You’re not going to minimize or dismiss any pain or discomfort. You’re going to write everything down as it happened. And someday…” His voice caught. “Someday, you’re going to figure it out because you are an incredible witch in your own right.”

“Yes.” She nodded, throat aching. “I promise.”

“Good.” He placed a warm kiss on her forehead, resting there as if drawing strength. “Good. How are you feeling otherwise?”

“Weak but all right.”

He stepped back, flexing his hands at his sides.

“I’d feel better if you went to Madam Blainey,” he said.

“No.”

“I thought not. What other blood was there? Why did you say ‘that’ blood?”

“Ah.” She grimaced, tucking some hair behind her ear. “I threw up blood at the end of the ball for a couple hours.”

“You what?!”

“Lady Greengrass and Mary were with me–”

“That’s internal damage, Aurelia! Severe internal damage. A couple hours?! What are you–”

“They took care of me. Actually, I wonder if that’s what she meant. When Lady Greengrass first found me, she said there were ‘procedures’ for ‘blood magic.’ Did she mean sacrifices?”

“Oh my god.” Ominis rubbed his eyes. “Sometimes. Most people nowadays use potions for all the necessary components. Easier, sometimes cheaper. But there are older traditions that require certain types of foci for a spell to work. Those are usually incredibly powerful spells, spells that could affect the environment or people around you if you’re not careful.”

“Hmm. Something to look into then.”

He shot her an irritated, incredulous look.

“That’s part of figuring out how not to vomit blood anymore,” she said. “I can’t just discount something because it’s out of vogue. I’m dealing with a lot of power and no real way to channel it safely.”

“All right, all right, but you definitely need to go to Madam Blainey now.”

“No.”

“What do you mean ‘no’?”

“I mean I’m fine. Lady Greengrass and Mary gave me some potions before I went to bed and I took some more when I woke up.”

“Which means you spent the night seriously injured! Aurelia–”

“I’m not going to Blainey.”

Anger, frustration. His jaw and fist clenched, tension twisting up his body.

“I have some wiggenwelds downstairs,” she said. “I’ll take a couple of those right now.” She reached out to squeeze his hand. “I’m sorry I worried you. Believe me, if I’d had time to plan and practice, I would have. It was just…the train was rolling, you know? I made the best decision I could on a spur of the moment.”

“I know. And, for what it’s worth, it was remarkable. I’m just particularly vulnerable to abandonment right now and finding that handkerchief in the trash did not help. Vomiting blood. My god.” He rubbed his face. “You refuse to go to the infirmary?”

“Yes. I know what severe damage feels like and I don’t feel like that anymore.”

“I hate every word of that sentence.” He sighed. “I’m sorry if I was harsh. I just worry.”

“I know. And you weren’t. A little chilling but you didn’t yell at me and I appreciate it.”

He nodded.

“Take the wiggenwelds, darling. Then we’ll head down to the kitchens for something heretically unhealthy.”

She laughed and trudged down to the lab.

“That, Mr. Gaunt, is the best idea I’ve heard all day.”

Chapter 26

Chapter Text

“This week, we will start veritaserum,” Professor Sharp said. “This, as many of you know, is the truth serum. It compels the drinker to answer any question honestly. As such, it is a strictly controlled substance within the Ministry. Using it outside of very specific, regulated situations is highly unethical and potentially lethal.”

His dark eyes swept across the room.

“Everyone has secrets. Some, if revealed, are simply embarrassing. Some will get you on the front page of the Prophet as a ‘tragic, accidental death.’ For those of you who aren’t following, that means I will personally deal with anyone caught using this potion. Are we clear?”

A chorus of ‘yes, sir’s.

“Good.” He turned back to the chalkboard. “Now: sanctioned uses. Veritaserum is most often used in criminal interrogations. Who can give me an example? Miss Green?”

“Murder.” Aurelia remembered that chapter in the Auror Handbook.

“Very good. Who can give me another use?”

Ominis raised his hand.

“Mr. Gaunt.”

“Inheritance fraud.”

Professor Sharp smirked, adding his answer to the board.

“Paternity tests are also wrapped up in that,” he said. “Who else?”

Aurelia obediently copied the list, noting the answers and who said them. There was also a section in the Handbook that described how aurors were certified. Every weapon they used, every spell they cast, every substance they gave, had to be cleared by the Ministry and then experienced by the aurors themselves. If she was going to be an auror, she would have to take veritaserum and submit to whatever the hell they asked. There were supposed to be set, pre-approved questions for those sessions, highly personal questions to impress upon the candidate how powerful the potion was and to verify what they’d put on their application. Resistance, the book said, was futile.

Which meant people tried.

“We will start brewing today,” Professor Sharp said. “The potion takes a full lunar cycle, twenty-eight days, so we will work on other potions while it brews. Everyone set up.”

The noise of scraping chairs and clunking cauldrons filled the room.

“I can hear your brain spinning from here,” Ominis said. “What is it?”

“How honest do you have to be?” She glanced around to make sure no one was listening, keeping her voice low. “Under the potion?”

“Completely, as far as I can tell. Why?”

“Well, I mean…do you have to be honest the way they want you to be? If you asked me ‘did I steal that muffin,’ would I have to say ‘yes’ or could I say ‘I wanted to’ or ‘I don’t want to answer that’? Both are still true; it’s just not the truth you want.”

Ominis blinked slowly.

“Every day,” he said. “I am both baffled that you weren’t sorted into Slytherin and immeasurably grateful. You are chaos incarnate.”

“See, aren’t you glad we wrote so many rules?”

“So glad.” He paused when Garreth walked by then leaned a little closer. “Speak with Aran. He’s brilliant at potions, always has been.”

“I suppose he’d have to be for Alchemy.” She squeezed his forearm. “Thank you.”

“No more blood.”

She chuckled.

“No more blood.”

*

Aran laughed. She couldn’t tell if he was shocked, impressed, or insulted.

“And why exactly,” he said. “Should I tell you?”

“You and Dahlia want me to become an auror,” Aurelia said. “I can’t very well do that if I admit to murder, can I?”

“I thought that was ruled ‘self-defense.’”

“Claiming self-defense means you still did something illegal. And I have no filter when I’m tired. I can’t imagine how badly I’d word something when I’m drunk or high on veritaserum.”

“Mmm. Fair point.”

The clock chimed for the beginning of class.

“Let me speak with Dahlia,” he said. “I’ll let you know.”

“Thank you.”

His owl came the next morning at the Hufflepuff table, asking her to meet him and Dahlia in an old classroom off the fifth floor after Defense. When she arrived, Aran, Dahlia, and Ominis were already there.

“Miss Green,” Aran greeted. He and Ominis both stood. “Thank you for agreeing to meet. Miss Greengrass and I spoke and we thought it might be best for you to experience the effects of veritaserum in a controlled environment before you get to the Ministry. We have a contract for you, for your protection.”

He offered a piece of parchment and Aurelia took it with a quick glance around the room. Clean, well-lit, not completely awful in terms of temperature. Four chairs sat in the middle of the room, two facing the back, two facing the door. Ominis stood next to one of the chairs facing the door. Dahlia sat in one of the chairs facing the back.

Aurelia looked at the contract.

‘I, Aurelia Green, do knowingly and with a sound mind agree to questioning under pure, unmolested veritaserum by Aran Malfoy, Heir to the Great House of Malfoy for the duration of one hour.

I, Aran Malfoy, do solemnly swear not to use any information recovered in the course of this session to the detriment of Miss Green.’

Aran’s flourish of a signature spread across the bottom. Aurelia glanced at Ominis.

“One moment, Mr. Malfoy.” She summoned her quill and a fresh piece of parchment, amending the contract to include Ominis and Dahlia and to define what ‘detriment’ meant, according to how Ominis taught her during their philosophy talks. She signed it and handed it to Aran.

“I told you!” Dahlia laughed out loud as she came to read the new contract over Aran’s shoulder. “I told you. She’s smarter than you think.”

“If she couldn’t see such an obvious danger,” Aran said with a smirk. “We have bigger problems.” He signed it, had Ominis and Dahlia sign it, and made copies for all four of them. “Shall we begin, Miss Green?”

“First, please, explain the ‘pure’ veritaserum.” She sat down in the other chair facing the door as the others took their seats.

“It is exactly what it says on the tin.” He held up a small vial of clear liquid. “Veritaserum is odorless, tasteless, almost completely undetectable. So are many other substances, including poisons, depressants, paralyzing agents, and even some more…complicated mixes that compel you to do far more than just speak your truth.”

Aurelia might have gulped.

“Exactly,” Dahlia said.

“Is there a way to test it?” Aurelia asked. The blonde man smiled.

“Take out your wand and repeat after me.”

Aurelia obeyed, letting her vision Shift partway so as to see the potion before, during, and after the spell. Not threads exactly, not full, anyway. More like the scrivels she had to trim off seams and brush off after. Veritaserum looked like the faint sheen of oil on water, not quite a rainbow but not fully ‘clear’ either. Nothing changed from Aran’s spell.

“Thank you,” she said. “I’m ready.”

“Very well.” Aran turned his hand palm up and the vial floated over to her. She popped out the cork.

“Cheers.”

He was right. It didn’t taste like anything though it did feel…thicker than water. She wasn’t sure she’d be able to notice unless she was looking for a difference though. Then a calm seemed to seep through her limbs. Her shoulders lowered, her jaw unclenched, and her leg, that she hadn’t realized she’d been bouncing, went still.

“How do you feel?” Aran asked.

“Good. I don’t trust it.”

He chuckled and crossed his legs.

“Please, state your full name and age for the record,” he said.

“Aurelia Green, sixteen.”

“What was your mother’s name?”

“Abelia.”

“What was your father’s name?”

“I don’t know.”

“When did you come to Hogwarts?”

“September, 1890.”

“What’s your favorite class?”

“Defense.”

“Why?”

“Because that’s where I met–” She clicked her mouth shut. Ah. Clever. Get her guard down with harmless questions then throw in something serious in the same tone. She’d have to be careful of that.

“That’s when you met…whom?” Aran asked. Words rolled around in her mouth and she shifted. Something Else wanted her to answer. Something Else wanted her to do something she didn’t want to do and she didn’t like it.

“I don’t want to answer that,” she said.

“Why not?”

“Because it brings up bad memories.”

Aran nodded, folding his hands in his lap.

“You attended the Yule Ball at Highgarden, correct?”

“Yes.”

“Did you have fun?”

“Yes.”

“What was your favorite part?”

“Sitting in the library watching Ominis beat Anne at chess.”

“What was your least favorite part?”

“Getting my courses on the sheets.” Ew. Too honest. Was there a way to answer with a non-answer? Purebloods and church members did it all the time; they must have learned at some point.

“How long did it take you to make the lovely purse you gave Miss Greengrass?”

“A couple hours.”

“Did you kill Solomon Sallow?”

“No.”

“Do you know who did?”

“I know who wanted to.”

“Who wanted to?”

“Everyone he ever arrested as an auror.” Her heart pounded and her palms were starting to sweat but she held herself still. It was obvious when she fought it earlier just like it was obvious when Garreth couldn’t meet her eyes that he wanted a favor. She had to be smooth, unaffected. Like Dahlia.

“Did you ever f*ck Sebastian?” Aran asked.

“I don’t want to answer that.”

“Because you’re ashamed?”

“Because it’s none of your business.” Heat now, the urge to throw the chair at Aran’s smug, aristocratic face. This must be a trick too, getting her angry. Which made sense. She remembered Ashwinders getting sloppy the longer she held them off. How dare a little girl get the jump on them like that?

“He says you did,” Aran said.

“He’s lying.”

“Why?”

“Because that’s what He does.”

“He says you were pregnant with his child.”

“He also said He was sorry He called me ‘ignorant’ when all He really wanted was a hired gun. I don’t trust anything He says anymore.”

“Ooh.” Aran raised an eyebrow. “Bit of a lover’s quarrel.”

Out the corner of her eye, she saw Ominis uncross his legs, resolutely setting both feet on the floor and both hands on his knees. A power pose? She looked back at Aran and Dahlia. If they saw it, they didn’t react.

“Why do you want to know about Him?” Aurelia asked. Another note. She could still ask questions like this.

“Well, the whole school knows you two were close.”

“I’m close to Natty and Poppy too. Are you going to ask if I’ve f*cked them?”

“Have you?”

“I don’t want to answer that either.” Good. Consistent. She could kick herself for getting so worked up for that asshole–again–but at least she could be worked up about the same kind of thing. Her private life was private. Totally reasonable that she’d be upset about answering those kinds of questions.

Dahlia’s sharp blue eyes were a physical weight. If they didn’t discuss how she did tonight, the blonde would have notes in the morning. Another day, Aurelia might’ve felt exposed, frustrated, but right now, she could only feel grateful someone was in her corner.

“Have you ever killed anyone?” Aran asked. Aurelia took a deep breath.

“I’ve wanted to. Many times.”

“Have you ever acted on it?”

“I’ve tried.”

“Have you ever succeeded?”

‘Succeed.’ She won but trading Ranrok’s life for Professor Fig’s didn’t feel like success. Having to kill Rookwood to survive when he could’ve reversed Anne’s curse didn’t feel like success.

“No,” she said. “No, I have not.”

So it went, back and forth until, off in the distance, the clock chimed for dinner.

“And that is the end of our session,” Aran said. “Well done, Miss Green. You survived.”

Aurelia slumped in relief.

“I hated that so much.”

The others laughed, Dahlia coming over to give her a glass of water.

“We’ll talk in the morning,” she said. “For now, Ominis is going to sit with you until the potion’s out of your system. It shouldn’t take more than twenty minutes.”

“Thank you. Thank you both.”

“Well, it’s as you said, Miss Green,” Aran said, standing. “We’re invested.” He nodded to her and he and Dahlia walked out of the room. Aurelia put her head in her hands.

“Oh my god…”

“You did well, darling. How are you feeling?”

“Naked. I don’t like it.”

He came to crouch at her feet, gently taking her wrist.

“Your pulse is picking up,” he said. “The serum’s almost gone.”

“Did it slow down before?”

“It did. Even when you were upset. Bit disconcerting, really.”

She winced.

“Sorry you had to hear that.”

“It’s fine. The questions you’ll go through as an auror will probably be much more invasive.”

“I know they will be. They ask basic questions to get the truth then tell you to try and lie to a test question so they know how you look when you’re fighting.” Sighing, she rubbed her face. “And then I went and gave them that without prompting.”

“You recovered though. Honestly, sidestepping veritaserum questions doesn’t seem that different from sidestepping uncomfortable dinner conversation.”

“I noticed but I’m not great at that either.”

“You will be.” He tilted his head, listening or counting, and she let him in silence. “A few more minutes.”

“All right. Anything you want to ask while you can?”

“I’m not taking advantage of you like that.” He stood, still holding her wrist.

“I’m offering.”

“Mmm. Better question. Is there anything you would like to ask while you can blame it on the potion?”

Damn him and his quick mind. She twisted her hand, gripping his wrist for some sort of anchor.

“Are we friends?” she asked. “Real friends?”

“Aurelia…” He frowned slightly. “Of course we are, darling. Why would you ask that?”

She swallowed, fought.

“Because I’m scared.” Don’t say it, don’t say it, don’t say it. “I’m scared you’ll leave after…after she…”

“Shh shh shh.” He drew her to her feet and into a tight hug under his jacket. “No, darling. I’m not going anywhere. I’ve enjoyed getting to know you this year. You’re a bright, kind, beautiful young woman and I’m selfish enough to want to keep you.”

She let out a shuddering breath, face heating.

“You can’t say I’m beautiful,” she said.

“Yes, I can.” He shifted, sweeping those large hands down her back. “You’ve been losing weight again.”

“I’ve been eating.”

“And stressing. Come.” He tucked her hand in his arm. “We’re going to dinner. And I’m telling Poppy on you.”

“Oh, you’re such a sh*t.”

“Still want to be friends?”

Chapter 27

Chapter Text

The first unit of Alchemy covered Taoism with the key ideas being the Three Treasures of Jing, Qi, and Shen. Jing was the essence of a person, Qi, the vitality, Shen, the spirit. According to “The Book of Balance and Harmony” written in the 13th Century, when the body was at ease, the energy was complete. If the energy was complete, the mind could be pure, which made the spirit complete. If the spirit was complete, the will could be sincere and the body and mind could be united.

One quote in particular stuck out to Aurelia.

‘Making one’s spirit complete, one can recover emptiness.’

It was a fool’s hope in regards to Anne. Aurelia had been able to use the dozens of anatomy charts associated with Chinese medicine over Yule but it was much more complicated than she expected and Seeing did not mean Weaving. Not at her level. Too many subtleties, too many chances for things to go wrong. At most, she was able to incorporate chi lines into her Fiber Theory and clarify her Vision.

The definitions themselves, however, did help her understand the pain magic a little better. Most of what was in that corrupted glob of Ancient Magic was emotional, shen, but people were never just one thing. If she could differentiate the types of pain and where they were in the body, she could perhaps figure out the math for them and how they would react to manipulation. After all, emotional stress still manifested in clenched jaws and tight shoulders. Everything was connected. And she needed to know it wouldn’t explode in her face.

The second unit, Dharmic Alchemy, covered the four main religions in India: Hinduism, Buddhism, Jainism, and Sikhism. Aurelia had never heard of any of them but was excited all the same. One school, in particular, caught her attention: Tantrism and its focus on medicines and metal conversions. Some prominent witches and wizards in that school used the word ‘rasayana’ for alchemy but ‘rasa’ was also a word for mercury, a metal with multiple properties and a resistance to being compressed.

When Professor Avicenna trailed a stream of mercury through the air that afternoon, Aurelia had nearly gasped out loud. It moved exactly like the pain magic, liquid and uneven. Maybe there was something there.

The last chapter of the unit, which they came back into after Christmas break, was sexual alchemy. Aurelia blushed through the entire section. She knew what sex was, especially since Lady Greengrass’ talk, but the idea of using sex for magic felt incredibly strange. Aran noticed her discomfort the first day and, thankfully, took pity on her.

“Think of it more in terms of life force,” he said quietly. “Life is Change and Change is both a choice and a process. During tantric processes, the focus is on experiencing the change and building up that energy, not just skipping to the end.”

She still vowed to never tell Ominis about it. Not like it was helpful to the repository mess anyway. Isidora had taken everything else from her; she didn’t get that too.

“And what has you so flustered?” Of course, Ben asked about it the next morning and she seriously considered hitting the bastard with a bolt of lightning.

“Everything all right, darling?” Ominis asked.

“I might have to kill your housemate,” she said.

“Oh, he’s a bit loud at night but he’s not that bad.”

“Me! What about you?”

“Shut up, Ben.”

Aurelia clapped her hands over her face, blushing even harder, and both boys burst out laughing. They didn’t mean it like that but she was not ready for the random filth that popped into her head. At least at Highgarden, the idea of sex was clinical, functional. Lady Greengrass was explaining a bodily function so Aurelia didn’t think she was dying.

Professor Avicenna, on the other hand, had waxed poetic about sex and flesh and god, he’d even quoted passages from the Song of Solomon that she was sure would’ve had him thrown out of the church and–

“Come back, darling.” Ominis rubbed a hand across her shoulders. “It’s all right. We were just teasing.”

“All right there, Green?” Aran asked. Aurelia lifted her head, peeking through her fingers, and he grinned. “Let her be, boys. Alchemy covers a broad range of new and exciting topics.”

“Oh my god,” she said. Ominis subtly squeezed the back of her neck then withdrew.

“Eat something,” he said. “Please. There’s sausage gravy? Or chocolate chip muffins?”

She lowered her hands.

“I could do a muffin.”

“All right.” He passed the plate to her, dropping a giant chocolate chip muffin on her plate with his long, nimble fingers, and she bit her tongue hard. What the hell was wrong with her?

Across the table, Ben caught her glance and smirked as he took a bite of bacon.

“Is there a spell to melt through the floor?” she asked.

“Not that you’ve learned yet,” Ominis said. “Eat your food, darling. It’s almost time for class.”

*

“Who wants to be an auror?” Professor Hecat asked. The whole class lifted their hands.

“I thought so. Well, it’s a policy in the Auror Department that every applicant must experience the Cruciatus Curse so you know, in your bones, that it is not to be used.”

Aurelia shared a panicked glance with Natty. The f*ck? Yes, it made sense but seriously, what the f*ck. They were children.

“Calm down, calm down.” Professor Hecat waved her hands. “Most all of you have a free period after this. If not, I can write you a note. You will have plenty of time to recover. Today, lecture. Thursday, I will cast a short Cruciatus on each of you then you will write a paper of its effects over the weekend. Wear comfortable clothing–you have permission not to wear your uniforms for this class. Eat something at lunch before but nothing too heavy. Now.” She clapped her hands. “Let’s get started with the lecture.”

sh*t, f*ck, balls. She squeezed Natty’s hand and when class was over, they both went straight to Professor Hecat.

“Ah, just the ladies I wanted to see,” Professor Hecat said. “Miss Onai, since you already know how it feels, you can just write your paper. Would you be willing to help me catch the students?”

“I-I…” Natty blinked a couple times then cleared her throat. “Yes. Yes, Professor. I can do that. Thank you.”

“Thank you, my dear.”

“Professor,” Aurelia said. “Are you doing this in the non-N.E.W.T classes as well?”

“I am and you are not to worry.” Professor Hecat lowered her voice. “Mr. Gaunt is excused from class that week. We’ve already discussed a different assignment for him.”

Aurelia let out a breath.

“Thank you, Professor.”

Natty chuckled.

“You were going to take it for him, weren’t you?”

“I was going to take it for both of you.”

“Gods.” Natty gave her a quick side hug. “Thank you, Professor Hecat. We’ll see you next class.”

“Have a good day, ladies.” Professor Hecat gave Aurelia an approving smile as they left. “Make sure to drink plenty of water, Miss Green.”

She wanted to talk to Ominis. Or, more accurately, she wanted to run screaming to Ominis. But that would bring up a slew of awful memories and he was still riding high from the last letter he got from Anne talking about how much fun she’d had. She’d written Aurelia too, gushing about the dresses and food and fussing that Aurelia hadn’t danced with her and the rest of the girls. She sounded all right. At least, her handwriting looked smooth and steady. That was something.

“Hello, darling.” Ominis came up from the potions lab of her Room, wiping his hands with a towel. “How was your day?”

f*ck it. Dropping her bag, Aurelia walked right up to him and slipped her arms under his blazer for a tight, sudden hug. He ‘oofed’ but it was purely for show; the man didn’t budge.

“Mmm.” He wrapped his arms around her, warm and strong. “You’ve heard then.”

She nodded, breathing in the scent of cardamom and…sage? Hmm. He must’ve been growing something down in the lab.

“You’ll be all right,” he said. “She assured me you’ll all have mouth guards and someone to catch you. It won’t…It will feel like an eternity but there are, what, twenty students in your class? Professor Hecat is formidable but even she can’t cast that many times at full strength for an extended period of time.”

She nodded again, face pressed against his broad chest.

“I just needed a hug,” she said. He chuckled, dropping a quick kiss on her temple, and she let go.

“How was your day?” she asked.

“Always better when I speak to you, darling.”

“Well, that’s a lie.” She flushed anyway. “You’re upright though. Ducklings doing better?”

“Slightly better. I thought we could ask Deek for some cheesecake and sit with the unicorns.”

“That sounds perfect.”

*

Thursday. Aurelia ate buttered bread and drank some water at lunch but couldn’t manage much more than that. Images flashed through her mind of Him falling to His knees, of red lightning crackling across Natty’s gazelle body. The way Ominis trembled when they entered the Scriptorium itself.

“You’ll be all right,” Natty said when they got to class. “I’ll be there to catch you and Professor Hecat has plenty of chocolate.”

Aurelia nodded and wiped her sweaty palms on her pants. She knew what burns felt like, broken bones, cuts. She didn’t know this and the ignorance was almost worse than the idea of the pain.

The rest of the class wasn’t much better. Professor Hecat had pushed all the desks back to open the room and piled what looked to be every pillow in the castle against the wall under her office. A table of chocolate bars and water pitchers sat next to it.

“All right, class,” Professor Hecat said. “Miss Onai is going to come around with mouth guards for all of you. This is to keep you from biting or swallowing your tongue. Now, when I call your name, you will come stand here with your feet shoulder-width apart, knees slightly bent, and hands by your sides. I will cast, Miss Onai will catch you, then you will go over to the pillows and get some chocolate. Does everyone understand?”

“Is this really allowed?” Leander asked. “They’re Unforgivable for a reason. It’s illegal for you to cast this on us.”

“I have special permission from the Ministry, Mr. Prewett. This is to show you precisely why these spells are Unforgivable.” Professor Hecat picked up her list. “Annette Browning.”

One by one, Aurelia watched her classmates scream and collapse. True to her word, Professor Hecat only cast it for maybe ten seconds but from the look in the students’ eyes, it felt much, much longer.

“Aurelia Green.”

Aurelia put in the mouthguard and stepped into position. Natty gave her an encouraging smile. Aurelia tried to smile back then looked at Professor Hecat. She probably should’ve been Watching the old woman’s magic this whole time, dammit. Rolling her shoulders, she let her vision Shift. Professor Hecat favored charms, most of her magic the reds of abjuration and oranges of evocation.

“All right, Miss Green.” Professor Hecat raised her wand, a bright, hot orange gathering in her core. So. Cruciatus was an evocation charm. Interesting. “One, two, three.”

Searing pain erupted through her body, burning, breaking, twisting, cracking. She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move, couldn’t fight. She was back in the Highlands, cold and alone and bleeding out. Venom melting through clothes and flesh, direwolves ripping through muscle, knives and clubs and shattered bone–

Hands on her arms.

“I’ve got you, I’ve got you. Almost there.”

Aurelia fell to the pillows, curling up and whimpering at how loud her ears rang. Slowly, the world came back. Other students whimpering and crying, Professor Hecat counting, the students that hadn’t gone yet talking sh*t or whispering. The pillows were soft. Natty’s voice was sweet and steady under the pain.

By the time class ended, Aurelia had come back enough to Watch what the curse did to the last few students. It made their body’s look a lot like Anne’s, briefly lighting up their threads with that fiery orange-red. After the cast ended, their magic seemed to almost cower, the body scrambling as it tried to process the flood of sensory lightning.

“Stay as long as you need to,” Professor Hecat said. “You all did very, very well.” She lowered the lights further. “We’ll talk more next class.”

Aurelia climbed to her feet, gave Natty a hug, and fled to her Room.

“Ominis!”

He caught her in his arms, holding her so tight she could barely breathe. She pressed closer, desperate to feel something other than Everything.

“I’m so sorry,” she whimpered. “I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry.”

“Shh shh shh, it’s all right.” He gently touched the back of her head. “It’s all right. It’s over. You didn’t know.”

She shuddered, a pitiful trill in her throat.

“I know,” he said. “I know. But it’s over. It’s all done.”

“f*cking co*ck.” She nuzzled his chest and he laughed.

“Well, it’s not quite like that. Here, come sit down.” He drew her over to a large pile of pillows in the corner and settled with her curled in his lap. He only let go long enough to cover them both in a quilt she didn’t remember having. “There we are. Just breathe for me. You’re safe. You’re alive. You’re with me. Everything’s going to be all right.”

His heartbeat was deep and rhythmic underneath her. No blazer, no waistcoat, just a shirt that felt far softer than the dress cotton he usually wore. She snuggled closer, eyes aching.

“Ominis.”

“Yes, darling.”

“I’m done. It’s out of rotation. No more. If I need information, I’ll get it another way.” She gave a small shake of her head. “I’m done.”
He hummed, gently brushing her hair out of her face.

“I’m very glad to hear that,” he said. “Rest now. We’ll go get dinner in a little while.”

“I’m not hungry.”

“It wasn’t a question.”

Chapter 28

Chapter Text

January passed. Aurelia revised and worked ahead, experimented with the pain alchemy, and tried to ignore the rumors floating around about how she and Ominis had shagged over Christmas. He was fit, sure, but honestly, she’d barely had the energy to haul herself out of the bathtub towards the end. She certainly didn’t have the energy for whatever cross-stitched Arabic poem Professor Avicenna had framed on the wall.

“It’s all right,” Poppy said as they sat down for breakfast. “No one believes it. We know you’re not like that.”

“Thank you.” Aurelia looked around at the food. Most of the usual, sausages, potatoes, scones, tea. Further down, there were some dishes she didn’t recognize but she dimly remembered someone talking about the Lunar New Year. Huh. She should probably spend more time in the Common Room.

“Anyway, he’s a cinnamon roll,” Poppy went on. “He’s so proper, I’ve never seen him even look at a girl.”

Aurelia blinked.

“Really?”

“You know what I mean. You and Anne are the only ones I can think of that he didn’t keep at arm’s length. I figured he just thought of her as a sister.”

“That’s the feeling I got too.” Aurelia finally settled on some toast with honey. Simple and she didn’t have much of an appetite anyway.
And there was the mail and its cloud of down feathers. She sighed, covering her plate. They really should do something about that.

“Oh.” Poppy stiffened.

“What? What is it?”

“Malfoy.”

Aurelia looked up to see Aran striding quickly towards the faculty table. Her stomach dropped. Dahlia had a letter in her hand and her face…

“sh*t.”

Another wave of students came in, Ominis among them. Dahlia shot to her feet.

“sh*t!” Power surged and, suddenly, Aurelia was skidding to a stop at Ominis’ side, his hair fluttering across his forehead.

“Darling?”

“Ominis.” Dahlia strode up to them, lips set in a firm line. Aurelia gripped the back of his elbow and he froze.

“No,” he muttered. “No, it’s too–we just–”

“I’m sorry.”

His chest caved, a rattling breath rushing past his lips.

“Get him out of here,” Dahlia said. “Slytherin’s password is ‘cupiditas.’”

Aurelia nodded and steered Ominis back into the hall. Other students said things but she ignored them, all of it turning to white noise as she focused on his breathing, his steps, his arm under her hand.

He didn’t speak the entire way, barely reacting when she dragged him through the floo-points.

“Cupiditas.”

A stone snake arched up across the wall to reveal a heavily carved set of double doors. She shoved through them, startling a handful of younger ones.

“Where’s his room?”

A girl pointed down one of the halls and Aurelia stalked past, Searching for traces of his magic. There. She Waved through the locks he’d set and got him inside.

“We’re back in your room,” she said, letting go.

“I don’t understand. I don’t–we’ve been writing since Christmas. She said she was fine. She said she felt better than she had in years. I don’t…”

He dropped his wand on his desk and started pacing, running his hands through his hair.

“I don’t understand. Even Freya said she was doing better. Winter’s the hardest but she was doing all right. She was fine!”

Aurelia didn’t know what to say so she said nothing. She just licked her lips and watched, desperately praying that Aran and Dahlia would hurry up. What was she supposed to do? Dahlia said…Right. Dahlia said Aurelia was to make sure Ominis was where he was supposed to be, when and how he was supposed to be there. First step was getting him to his room so he could lose it in private. Next step was…what?
Packing. They’d surely leave soon. Aurelia quickly found his trunk and knelt in front of it. Warded.

“Ominis, lift the wards on your trunk.”

He waved his wand, his magic popping and crackling across the wood.

“Thank you.” She opened the trunk, revealing a small box, a handful of books, the scarf she’d made him, and a stuffed Niffler with a threadbare face. Oh, that was precious. Shaking her head, she went to his wardrobe. The room was small, only two beds. She could guess who the other student had been. Not important now.

He didn’t have a lot of black clothes–come to think of it, she didn’t either. She’d have to transfigure some later. For now, she just took out everything dark she found and chucked it on the bed.

“Darling, I can pack for myself.”

She startled, glancing over her shoulder.

“You and your damn cat feet,” she said. “Need to get you a bell.”

“I’ve heard that.” His eyes were red-rimmed, his hair a mess, but he seemed…present. Sort of. “Move. I know what to get.”

“Check the bed first.”

“Why? Did you mix up my closet?”

“Sorry.”

He waved his wand over the clothes on the bed, nodding every once in a while.

“These are fine. Move.” He took her spot, shedding his school robe and blazer and tossing them on the chair by the desk. “Fold what you have. I’ll put it in the trunk.”

She obeyed and the two worked in tense silence until a knock came at the door.

“Come,” Ominis said. Aran and Dahlia walked in.

“You and I are leaving today,” Dahlia said. “Aurelia, you will leave with Aran in the morning. We’ve already notified Professors Weasley and Garlick and you are excused from classes the rest of today.” She handed her a list. “Here’s what you’ll need. Aran will collect you at seven. If you need something to eat before that, go to the kitchens.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Aurelia looked over the list. Clothing specifications and the different events, thank god. More specific than the funeral lecture. More specific to her. She nodded.

“Go,” Dahlia said. “We’ll see you tomorrow.”

Aurelia glanced back at Ominis, heart aching at the too-tight set of his shoulders, then bobbed to Dahlia and left.

Poppy, Natty, and Ben met her in the Common Room.

“So it’s happened then,” Ben said.

“Yes,” Aurelia said. “I’m sorry. I’m sure you’ve already been given instructions?”

“I have. Ladies.” He nodded to all three of them and walked away.

“What do you need from us?” Natty asked.

“I’ve got sh*t to do,” Aurelia said. “In the meantime, I’ll need you two to take notes for me. And Garreth in Charms. Natty, if you could ask him for me.”

“Of course. Not a problem.”

“Thank you. Poppy, if you could keep track of Transfiguration and Potions for me. We’ll miss our veritaserum window but–”

“I’ll take care of it,” Poppy said.

“Thank you.” Aurelia hugged them both. “I’ll see you later.”

They all left the dungeons, splitting off at the top of the stairs. Aurelia had been working ahead for just this reason and Dahlia said Pureblood funerals generally took a week to ten days. They just hadn’t had a time.

Now they did so Aurelia went straight to her Room and started sending off all the assignments due for the next two weeks. Deek agreed to check on Penny and the animals. Then it was getting a proper funeral wardrobe together, something she should’ve been doing all along but it was too late to beat herself about it now. Thankfully, they’d had a huge after-Christmas donation so she had her pick of slacks, dresses, coats, and everything else she could think of.

Dahlia’s list was clear and thorough, as expected. She also had a lot more slacks and waistcoats on there than Aurelia expected. So much the better. Aurelia couldn’t move as well in those gowns and if she was going to be on her feet, taking care of Ominis, she didn’t need to worry about petticoats.

Her gaze hitched on the Ortus book, nearly making her drop the clothes that hung and shimmered in the air. Had Anne been able to declare? When was her birthday? sh*t, Aurelia couldn’t remember. f*ck.

Shaking her head, she went back to altering the clothes.

*

Aurelia ate dinner in her Room then went back to the Common Room to finish packing. Poppy came back that night, looking like she’d been crying.

“We’ll take care of everything,” she said. “I promise. Don’t worry about a thing.”

“Thank you, Poppy.” Aurelia gave her a tight hug. “You’re such a sweetheart. I’m sorry to ask so much of you.”

“Oh, tosh. You saved a dragon with me. And her egg. I think we’re pretty even.” Poppy wiped her eyes, sniffling. “I can’t believe she’s gone. She was so sweet and funny.”

It was an awful and sudden realization that the other students also knew the twins, also missed them, would also grieve. Aurelia swallowed the guilt and gave Poppy another hug.

“I should try and sleep,” she said.

“Right. Right, of course. You get some rest. I’ll see you in the morning.”

Morning came far too quickly. It felt like she hadn’t slept more than ten minutes before it was time to get up. Aurelia dressed simply, black suit and dress shirt, and shrank everything down into a carpet bag she’d found in the donation pile. Poppy met her in the Common Room with an easy breakfast of porridge with fruit and a cup of tea then, after another hug tight enough to make her wheeze, Aurelia headed out.

“Miss Green.” Aran nodded to her and took her bag. “Here’s your bereavement pass. Keep it secure for the bean counters.”

“Thank you.” She tucked the pass in her planner as they walked. Another thing Dahlia talked about: death took a lot of paperwork.

A carriage took them to the train station but instead of boarding the train, Aran held out his hand.

“Have you ever apparated with someone?” he asked.

“Yes.” Dammit, she still remembered how unsettling it had been with Auror Thistlewood. “Highgarden doesn’t have wards?”

“It does. We’re included.”

“Right.” She took his hand and squeezed her eyes shut at the way the world tipped and spun.

“It’s all right,” he said. Their feet touched solid ground. “It’s all right. We’re here. Deep breaths.”

Aurelia weaved a bit then shook herself and straightened.

“Sorry,” she said.

“I hate side-apparition too.” He stepped off the platform they’d landed on and handed her down. What was this? A receiving room? There was only one door. Did they have a room just for apparating?

“Come.” Aran led her further into the house. “Hollis? Freya?”

“Oh, my darling.” Lady Greengrass bustled out of the study and wrapped Aran in a tight hug. “Dahlia’s inside. Have you written your parents?”

“Not yet. I was going to once we got Miss Green settled.”

“Miss…? Oh!” She rushed past Aran to hug Aurelia. “My darling girl, thank you for coming.”

“My lady.” Aurelia hugged her back, only letting go when the older woman did. “I’m sorry. What do you need from me?”

“Oh.” Lady Greengrass dabbed at her eyes, careful of her makeup. “Just being here is enough. Ominis isn’t up yet. I’ll have Mary take your things upstairs. Do you need something to eat?”

“No, I ate before I came. Is there anything I can help with?”

“Oh, there’ll be plenty. Here, you can come in here with us until Ominis gets up.”

“All right. Wait! I…” Aurelia glanced at Aran, who nodded.

“I’m going to find Hollis,” he said. “Excuse me, ladies.” He walked away and Aurelia lowered her voice.

“Lady Greengrass, you must tell me honestly. Did I…Was it because I…?”

Lady Greengrass’ eyes widened and she clasped Aurelia’s hands in hers.

“No,” she said firmly. “Absolutely not. You are a godsend to this House and you gave her the best month she’d had in years. Don’t you feel bad about that. Don’t you dare.”

Aurelia nodded, quickly blinking away the burn in her eyes, and followed Lady Greengrass into the study. Dahlia stood over a table full of papers, shuffling through what looked to be seating charts, fabric swatches, and menus.

“Ah, there you are,” she said. “Got everything then?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Aurelia said. “Thank you for the list. What can I do to help?”

“For now, fold those programs.” Dahlia gestured to a stack of cardstock on another table. “They’re for the big funeral on Imbolc. And use magic; we don’t need you getting a papercut and bleeding on the stationary.”

“Yes, ma’am. Big funeral? So you’re doing the smaller one too?”

“Yes, tomorrow on the thirtieth then there’ll be a day to prepare then the big funeral will be on the first.”

“Imbolc is a fire festival, right? Am I folding these in half or thirds?”

“Half. And yes, it’s one of the four major holidays for us, light returning to the world.” Dahlia’s hand flexed. “It’s ironically fitting.”

Aurelia set to folding the programs, noting the music and quotes and fancy typeface.

“Why not have the smaller one on Imbolc instead? If it’s important?”

“These things must always be a show,” Lady Greengrass said, sorting through a different pile of papers. “With her passing so close to Imbolc, there are expectations. But it works out for us. The new moon is at its darkest tonight, a time of renewal and transition. The energy will be much better for us to send her off tomorrow.”

“Oh.” Aurelia made a note to research that later. “And…is He…?”

Both women paused, glancing at each other.

“I see,” Aurelia said. f*ck. Biting her tongue, she went back to folding programs, listening to the other two make arrangements, delegate to servants and elves, and send off letters. A couple hours passed that way before a soft knock on the door made them all look up.

“Hello, all,” Ominis said. He looked perfectly together, hair and clothing just so, mask firmly in place.

“Hello, my darling,” Lady Greengrass said. “Have you eaten yet?”

“I’m not hungry. How are the plans coming?”

“Very well. We’re almost done. Then it will just be waiting. Are you still planning to sing at the private funeral?”

“Yes.”

“Very good, darling. The music room is at your disposal.”

“Thank you.”

Dahlia caught Aurelia’s eye and nodded pointedly at Ominis. Right.

“I’m a little hungry,” she said quietly. “Will you sit with me?”

He startled.

“Darling, when did you–of course. Come.” He led the way to the dining room where breakfast was still laid out. On black linens. sh*t, she was glad he couldn’t see.

“When did you get here?” he asked.

“A couple hours ago. I’ve been folding programs and place cards.”

“How riveting.” He didn’t go to the buffet with her, instead choosing to stand by her usual chair while she got food. So she got two plates, filled both with fruit, cold cuts, and toast, and came to sit down. He sat her, of course, but when he went to round the table, she caught his wrist.

“Help me.” She set the second plate in the spot next to her. “I don’t want it to go to waste.”

“You don’t have to mind me. I’m a fully grown man capable of feeding myself.”

“Dahlia’s scarier than you are.”

“Right. I’m the ‘harmless cinnamon roll.’”

She winced at his tone and looked down at her plate.

“Please, eat something.”

Sighing, he sat down next to her and brought over a pot of tea with two cups.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean to snap.”

“It’s all right.”

“It’s not. How are you, darling? Really.”

“I’m fine. Worried about you.”

He made a face and took a bite of ham.

“I don’t know how to answer that,” he said.

“You don’t have to. Just eat your breakfast.”

“Is this what this week is going to be like?”

“Yes.”

“Excuse me, ma’am, sir.” Mary came in. “Miss Dahlia asked me to give this to you, Miss Green.” She handed Aurelia a piece of cardstock. “It’s the itinerary for tomorrow.”

“Thank you, Mary. And hello.”

“Hello, Miss. I’ve got your things upstairs in your room.” Mary bobbed. “Excuse me. I’m in the middle of a list.” She hurried out and Aurelia looked down at the cardstock. More than just a schedule for the funeral itself, the itinerary included all the prep and details leading up to the event, including what Aurelia needed to wear and how visible and/or vocal she needed to be when. Someday, Aurelia was going to be this organized.

“Let me guess,” Ominis said. “Dahlia has this all planned to the minute.”

“Pretty damn close, holy sh*t.”

“You have such a way with words.”

“What the hell is the Red Door?”

“It’s a side entrance to the gardens out back.”

“The gardens in the snow? Those gardens?”

“Sorry, why are you attending Hogwarts again?”

“I wonder if you would smell the turkey before I shoved it up your nose.”

“I thought Dahlia was scarier than I.”

“She doesn’t have to know.”

He grinned, short though it was, and touched her wrist.

“I’m glad you’re here,” he said. She covered his hand with her own.

“Did you want to practice your song after breakfast?”

He sighed.

“I suppose I should,” he said. “The downside of being in this house: the women already have everything well in hand so there’s nothing for me to do but wallow.”

“You could teach me chess after.”

“I suppose I could. You never learned when…” His teeth clacked shut and he closed his eyes.

“sh*t,” she said. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think–”

“Darling, you’re here for a funeral. You can’t apologize every time someone gets sad.”

“Sorry.”

It was enough to get him to roll his eyes.

“Eat your food,” he said.

*

He cried during the song. The first run-through, he couldn’t even make it through the whole thing. The second time, he got angry. They were alone in the music room, her perched on the piano bench as if she could do something with it while he stood a few feet away. At least, he started rehearsal standing over there. As he tried to sing, he got distracted with memories and stories and started pacing up and down the carpet.

The third time that happened, he hissed in Parseltongue for five minutes, only coming to when he nearly tripped on a chair.

“Are you all right?” she asked, jumping to her feet.

“I’m fine.” He clenched his fists. “I’m fine.* I can swim all the way to France and back but Anne can’t! She never could! God, I’m so mad I don’t know what to do. I want to know why. I want to know why her life is over when it's barely begun. I just–I don’t understand. I was ready to go first. I’m the monster. I’m the cripple. I was always ready to go first.” His voice cracked, small and scared. “Why did it have to be her?”

Aurelia hugged his waist and he collapsed around her, burying his face in her hair.

“I don’t know how to do this,” he said. “I don’t–I just want to hit something, someone. I just want to hit them as hard as I can until they feel as bad as I do.”

She felt the instant he realized what he’d said and tightened her grip.

“You’re not evil,” she said. “You’re hurting. It doesn’t mean you’d actually do it just like I wouldn’t actually stuff turkey up your nose.”

“You would do that in a heartbeat.”

“No, I wouldn’t. That would be a waste of good meat.”

He huffed a weak laugh and she waited, relaxing her grip as his breathing evened out.

“I’m all right, darling. I’m all right.”

“Do you want to duel?”

“No. The mood I’m in, I’d cheat.”

“I can take it.”

“Yes, darling. That doesn’t mean you should.” He pulled away and wiped his eyes. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to yell at you.”

“It’s a funeral. You can’t apologize every time someone gets sad.”

“Oh, now, you listen to me.”

“I always listen to you. I’m just sh*t at obedience.”

He shot her a sarcastic look then sighed and ran a hand through his hair.

“I need to practice,” he said. “I haven’t sung this in years and the pitch and breath support are important.”

“All right. What do you need from me?”

“I don’t know.” His voice wavered. “You keep asking and I don’t know. I don’t know.”

“Shh shh shh.” She took his hand. So this is what Dahlia meant. All right. “How about this? You run through the song, start to finish, twice. Then we get some lunch and take a nap.”

“Twice.” He swallowed, nodded. “I can do that.”

“I know you can.” She went to sit back down. “When you’re ready.”

A deep breath and he went back to his original spot, hands flexing at his sides.

“Dahlia said closing your eyes helps,” Aurelia said. That startled a small laugh out of him.

“Just hush and let me concentrate.”

Chapter 29

Chapter Text

Dinner was a somber affair. Lady Greengrass and Dahlia did most of the talking, explaining to the table what would happen the next few days, what everything would look like, and where everyone needed to be and when. Aran tried to draw Lord Greengrass into innocuous quidditch talk and that helped on that end of the table but Ominis and Aurelia couldn’t give two sh*ts about the sport so they just sat quietly.

Then it was time for bed and Aurelia walked Ominis upstairs.

“All right,” he said dryly. “You don’t have to follow me this far.”

“So I don’t have to worry about you staying too long in the tub or testing how far the window is from the ground?”

“No, darling.” He reached out around head height and she stepped closer so he could cradle the side of her neck. “You know I have an attendant when I come here. Nicholas is very good at his job.”

“And I’ll be happy to work with him tomorrow.”

He smirked.

“Good night,” he said. “I’ll meet you at breakfast.”

“Breakfast.” She waited until he went inside then headed to her room. Other people would arrive tomorrow, including Imelda and Nerida–Anne’s old dorm-mates. Ominis would probably have his mask up the whole day, stoic and nonreactive in the face of their grief. There was no telling how he’d act before they arrived though.

Aurelia went over the itinerary one more time before bed, falling asleep to memories of Ominis singing.

The next day, Mary helped her get ready, French-braiding her hair and setting out black woolen slacks, a black cotton dress shirt, and a waistcoat of black crepe. Another attendant, a man in his twenties, was heading into Ominis’ room when Aurelia arrived.

“Nicholas?” she asked. “I don’t think we met at Christmas. I’m Aurelia Green, pleasure to meet you.”

He smiled, offering a small bow.

“A pleasure to meet you as well, Miss.”

She smiled back.

“Go get him ready,” she said. “I’ll wait out here.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He disappeared into the dark and Aurelia took out the itinerary again. They had time for breakfast then a couple hours until they had to get dressed for the funeral at one. That left time for some more practice, if he needed to, or they could putter around in the library. Damn. Did he have a pocket watch? She’d never bothered with one; there was always someone yelling the time at her and why wasn’t she going faster.

She shook herself. Lord and Lady Greengrass would greet guests as they arrived. Ominis wasn’t required for that, thank god. Aurelia just had to get him to the gardens in time for him to get his bearings for his song. That would be…what, a half hour before? Did he still have his sunglasses? Would he need them? Hmm. Nothing in her pockets besides her handkerchief, which she’d probably need. Nothing out in the hall…Oh, her hair ribbon.

Yanking it out, she quickly transfigured the ribbon into a pair of lightweight black sunglasses with thin, rectangle frames. There. She stuck them in her pocket. Maybe she should ask Lady Greengrass for one of those pepper-up potions, just in case. She can’t imagine he’d slept well the last couple days.

“Oh, starting early, are we?” Ominis came out in a crisp black wool suit and waistcoat, black cotton dress shirt, and black silk tie. “Hello, darling.”

“Hello. Ready for breakfast?”

“No, but I take it that’s not an option?”

“It is not.”

He heaved a long-suffering sigh and offered his arm like it was some great burden.

“Oh, we’re so dramatic,” she said. “Do you have a pocket watch?”

“Yes.”

“Give it to me.”

“Why, so I can hear you clicking it open every two minutes? No, thank you, darling. I think I’ll keep it on me.”

“If you get me in trouble, I’ll–”

“You’ll what?” He held himself better here, even under the circ*mstances, so the height difference, the tone, and the way he found her eyes made her bite her tongue hard.

“Asshole,” she said, grabbing his hand. “Come on.”

“That’s what I thought.”

*

“O chra ort, a shagairt Ui Dhomhnaill*
Na dona go deo mar a d'imigh tu
O leigh se an tAifreann De Domhnaigh
‘S bhi se maiden De Luain ‘na mhinistir…”

Anne Sallow died at 3:21 am, January 28th. The house elves alerted first, waking the house, and the servants stopped all the clocks on the property. They covered the mirrors. They turned all the photographs face down. Lord Greengrass made a laurel wreath tied with black crepe ribbons and hung it on the front door.

Lady Greengrass gave Anne her last bath.

“O’ fill, o’ fill, a run, o’
Fill, a ruin, o’ is na himigh uaim
O fill, a chuisle ‘s a stoirin o’
Is gheobhaidh tu an ghloir ma phillin tu…”

Her shroud was the finest, thinnest linen Aurelia had ever seen with a scalloped edge embroidered with tiny, multi-colored wildflowers. Thread and ribbon embroidery. Glass seed beads.

“She made it herself,” Dahlia said. “Sebastian threw a fit the one time he saw it. She was careful to hide it after.” The blonde touched under her eye. “She added the beads after she saw your work on Mother’s scarf.”

Aurelia nodded through the ache in her throat.

“Da bhfeicfeadh sibh Neili De Domhnaigh
‘S a guna ban go sala uirthi
Buclai bui i na mbroga
‘S i a tarraingt sa rod mar phuca…”

In the days since Anne passed, bundles of sweet-scented rushes burned in a circle around her. Rosemary for protection and cleansing, cypress for understanding and calm. Ominis held a handkerchief over his mouth and nose as they entered her room.

“Tell me,” he said. Aurelia swallowed.

“Her hair is loose with a few thin braids,” she said. “She’s wearing a simple gown of white silk edged in gold and silver with a gold metal belt around her waist. There’s a gold band around her neck that doesn’t clasp in the front and a gold circlet on her forehead with tiny sapphires.”

He swallowed, lowering his hand.

“Sapphires for hope and faith,” he said. “Gold for the nobility. The braids…For the warrior. In Celtic culture, the most honorable way to die was to fall in battle.”

Aurelia bit her tongue.

“Please,” he said. “Give me a moment.”

“I’ll be right outside.”

“O’ fill, o’ fill, a run, o’
Fill, a ruin, o’ is na himigh uaim
O fill, a chuisle ‘s a stoirin o’
Is gheobhaidh tu an ghloir ma phillin tu…”

This service was small. Lord and Lady Greengrass, Dahlia, Aran, Imelda, Nerida, Professor Ronen, Narcissus, Margaret, and Calanthe. Ominis. The winter sun was bright, almost warm, and wildflowers covered the pavilion. Lord Greengrass and Professor Ronen carried Anne to a stone table covered in a layer of golden wheat for Demeter.

Ominis sang.

“Ta mallachi na sagairt is na mbraithre leat
I do mhala ag imeacht duit
‘S na measa duit mallacht do mhathartha
Na a bhaca tu a riamh den buhnadh sin…”

His voice was smooth and haunting, the unfamiliar words drifting through the air. They stood in a circle around the table. The girls were already crying. The men tried not to but it didn’t last long.

“Mummy,” Calanthe whispered. “Why’s Miss Anne not covered up? She’ll get cold.”

Aurelia clenched her fists so hard she felt her nails through the gloves.

“O’ fill, o’ fill, a run, o’
Fill, a ruin, o’ is na himigh uaim
O fill, a chuisle ‘s a stoirin o’
Is gheobhaidh tu an ghloir ma phillin tu…”

Cold. She felt…cold. Her clothes were too tight, too thick, touched her too much, yet all she could feel was cold. Threads of frost on the edge of her vision drew her into the Sight and she swept her eyes around the space. Chilled, dark shadows lurked around the Lord and Lady Greengrass, thick and heavy in their torsos. Dahlia’s had seeped into her fingers. Aran carried his in his back, high between his shoulders blades and into his neck.

Most of the others carried it in their chests, the chill deepening as they walked up to the table for individual moments. Grief then, the absence she’d felt in the repository, the damp sludge that wouldn’t leave her skin. Was it different than physical pain? She Looked down at her finger and pressed her thumbnail hard into her flesh. A flare. Heat. So there was a difference.

Swallowing, she chanced a Look at Ominis and quailed. His whole body radiated cold, concentrating in his chest with an absence so dark and so complete, she half thought it had replaced his bones and organs outright. And there, little flares of hot around his eyes and throat as he tried not to cry.

She let her Vision fade and looked at Anne.

“O, threaigh tu Peadar is Pol
Agus threigh tu Eoin is an bunadh sin
O threigh tu an Mhaighdean ‘s a ghloir,
Is na dona go deo mar a d’imigh tu…”

Dinner was buffet-style, small, easy finger-foods that didn’t require a lot of thought. Aurelia stayed at Ominis’ elbow, handing or taking whatever he needed. They didn’t speak to each other. He barely spoke to anyone but he did sit and listen to the others tell stories. At one point, Nerida even got them all laughing about a mermaid prank that got so out of hand, even Professor Black had been involved.

There were no niceties though. No ‘she’s in a better place’ or ‘the Lord called her home.’ The closest Aurelia heard was someone saying ‘at least she’s not hurting anymore.’

She didn’t know how to respond to that so she just refilled everyone’s tea.

“O’ fill, o’ fill, a run, o’
Fill, a ruin, o’ is na himigh uaim
O fill, a chuisle ‘s a stoirin o’
Is gheobhaidh tu an ghloir ma phillin tu.”

Chapter 30

Chapter Text

The gentle knock on the door came at exactly nine a.m.

“Come in,” Aurelia called. The door opened behind her.

“Good morning, Miss Green.”

“Good morning, Mary.” Aurelia finished her thought then started putting away the latest sheaf of notes. Her mind just refused to shut off even now. “That time already then?”

“Yes, ma’am.” Mary pulled back the drapes with practiced flicks of her wand. “Did you sleep well?”

“Well enough. How about you?”

“Well enough.” Mary smiled at her but there was a tightness to it as she led Aurelia to the vanity.

“What is it?” Aurelia asked.

“Pardon?”

“What’s wrong?”

“Oh. Um…” Mary straightened and started brushing Aurelia’s hair. “Lady Greengrass received word this morning. Lord and Lady Gaunt, Masters Marvolo and Acrisius, and their wives and children will be arriving today.”

“What? Why?”

“They…pardon, Miss, but another Great House is hosting the funeral and it’s Imbolc…”

“They want a show.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“But the big funeral isn’t until tomorrow. Are they just inviting themselves over to flex?”

Mary glanced away, her reflection uncomfortable.

“sh*t,” Aurelia said. “And because they’re a Great House too, Lord Greengrass can’t refuse without looking incredibly rude. When do they arrive?”

“We expect them for breakfast at eleven.”

“f*ck.” Aurelia jumped up and started rummaging through her closet. “Does Ominis know?”

“I don’t know, ma’am. Nicholas should be waking him soon.”

“All right.” Fighting gear. Slacks, dress shirt, waist coat, knee-length jacket, and ankle boots. Dahlia would just have to deal with it. “Help me.”

They got her dressed in minutes with her hair in a crown braid then she led the way to Ominis’ room. They made it to the door just as Nicholas approached with a fresh basin of water.

“Miss Green,” he said, startled.

“Nicholas, he awake?”

“N-not yet.”

“Let me. Mary, you can wait out here if that makes you uncomfortable–Actually, no, I don’t want you to get in trouble. Both of you come inside. Mary, you can face the wall if you need to.”

The door opened on silent hinges and she stepped into the darkened room, made even darker when the door shut. Aurelia waved Nicholas over to the washroom where he and Mary began prepping Ominis’ clothes. She went to the bed.

“Ominis?” she whispered. Thick, heavy curtains hung around the four-poster, subtle threads of sound-deadening charms woven through the velvet. She pulled one back to see Ominis lying on his side, hand twitching with a dream.

“Ominis.” She slipped her hand into his. “Ominis, honey, wake up.”

He twitched again, brow furrowing, and she started stroking his hair. The twitching got worse. She grimaced. Dreams in the early morning were always the strangest, things from outside creeping in, thoughts too muddled to separate, storylines crossing. She raised her voice a little.

“Ominis.”

He woke with a gasp, eyes wide, and sat up.

“What’s going–I don’t–what–”

“Shh shh shh.” She gently covered his mouth, her other hand cradling the side of his neck. “Ominis, it’s me. Come back. Come back to me.”

He gripped her wrist too tight, his breathing too fast. She sat on the edge of the bed and held him.

“It’s all right,” she murmured, stroking his jaw with her thumb. “It’s just me. You’re all right.”

She didn’t have to see to know when he realized she was actually there. His face flushed white-hot and his back snapped straight.

“Miss Green–”

“The Gaunts are on their way. Mary says they’ll be here for breakfast.”

“sh*t. Where’s my wand? Nicholas?”

“Right here, sir.”

Aurelia slapped his wand in his hand and hopped down. Nicholas met him half way, towel in hand as Ominis hastily pushed past him to brush his teeth.

“You’ve got him?” Aurelia asked.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Oh my god, you’re in my room!” Ominis spit into the sink and grabbed the towel. “You can’t be in here, Aurelia. I’ll see you at breakfast.”

“You sure?”

“Out!”

She couldn’t help but snicker as she and Mary left.

“So fussy,” she said. Mary tried not to grin.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“You’ve been good to me, Mary. Thank you.”

“Of course, ma’am.”

Aurelia smiled, squeezing her shoulder.

“Do what you need to. I’ll wait for Ominis here.”

“Yes, ma’am. And here is Miss Dahlia’s itinerary for the day.” Mary handed her a new piece of cardstock, bobbed, then vanished around the corner, leaving Aurelia to lean against the wall and read. Try to read. She’d heard stories of the Gaunts, of course, and not just from Ominis. Her house and classmates had no problem telling her every horrible, awful thing they’d ever heard about the old family. Then she got here and Lady Greengrass’ face spoke. The Lady would never be so crass as to say anything out loud but Aurelia had survived by reading women’s faces and Dahlia’s mother had opinions.

Which meant that Aurelia had to be perfect or Ominis would pay the price.

“Cannot believe you did that.” Ominis came out of his room, quickly followed by Nicholas, who bowed and hurried away.

“Thank you, Nicholas,” Aurelia called. “Yes, you can.”

“Yes, I can. God.” He shook his head, looking quite sharp in clothes similar to hers but three or four tiers up. “You can’t do that while they’re here. They will eat you alive.”

“I know. I just wanted you to have time to get ready.”

Sighing, he offered his arm and they headed down at a much slower pace than she’d started with.

“I know,” he said. “And I’m grateful. Thirty minutes is very different than thirty seconds and I appreciate it more than you probably realize. I just…” He rolled his shoulders. She squeezed his arm.

“Like your pajamas,” she said. He laughed, shaking his head.

“You’re impossible.”

“You adore me.”

“I do. That doesn’t make you any less of a gremlin.”

Humming, she hugged his arm.

“What do you need from me?” she asked.

“I don’t suppose you’d just spend the day in the library?”

“If you do.”

“Mmm.” His jaw tightened as he thought. “I wish I could say they’ll ignore you but we both know that won’t happen so we’ll have to be a bit barbaric.”

“I can throw chairs at them?”

“No.” He managed a small smile. “Not this time. I meant you’ll have to be invisible. Don’t speak unless spoken to, don’t draw attention to yourself, let me take the lead. If I answer for you, it’s not because I’m trying to take over. I know their language. You don’t. If Dahlia or one of the others answers for you or if I say something incorrect, let it be. They’ve surely heard about you by now; they’ve already made up their minds. Nothing any of us say or do will change that so don’t waste energy trying.”

“So I’m a cat today.”

His smile widened just a fraction.

“Yes,” he said. “We’re both cats today.”

“I’m still sitting next to you. Non-negotiable.”

“I thought so.”

“Ah, good morning, my darlings.” Lady Greengrass smiled warmly at them when they passed the drawing room.

“Good morning, my lady,” Ominis said, steering them inside. Aurelia nodded to her, making Ominis smile again. This one was more real.

“You don’t have to be a cat with her,” he said. “Just around them.”

Lady Greengrass’ sharp eyes flicked to Aurelia then up and down her clothes.

“We have some time,” the Lady said. “Come sit, both of you.”

They obeyed and the older woman laid out much the same plan. Ominis contributed a little at first but as the morning wore on, he grew quieter and quieter until he was just a tense bundle of wire in the chair next to her.

But that was what Aurelia was here for. She asked questions, repeated instructions, and by the time the house elves announced breakfast, she felt much more prepared to face…well, anyone.

Then again, what was that quote Ben told her? ‘Plans never survive first contact’?

Ah, well. Aurelia was used to things going to sh*t. She didn’t plan on setting the house on fire but it was always an option.

*

The Gaunts looked good. That was probably the first annoying thing Aurelia noticed. She stood at Ominis’ elbow, the man himself standing next to Lord Greengrass. The whole house had turned out, staff lined up on one side of the front steps, family on the other. Two large, ornately carved carriages drove up pulled by four horses each. Out of the first stepped an attractive older man in black robes that looked more suited to the Keepers’ portraits, quality work yet worn and faded. A pretty younger woman stepped out after him wrapped in dark furs. A daughter? Did Ominis have a sister?

A handsome brunette man followed, his suit fine but not tailored, and he handed down a blonde woman in a cloak lined with fur and skirts of a burgundy so dark, they were almost black.

Almost. Aurelia fought to keep her face clear.

A boy followed, not more than four or five, and looked at his shoes.

Out of the second carriage stepped a handsome man about Narcissus’ age in a more modern suit than the others, black and green, and a lovely brunette in dark green taffeta. She had a little girl with her, maybe seven, in what was surely antique lace.

Aurelia discreetly touched the sunglasses to Ominis’ palm while Lord Greengrass welcomed the family. Ominis gave a minute shake of his head.

“So sorry to hear about your ward,” Lord Gaunt said, shaking Lord Greengrass’ hand. “It’s truly tragic when the young die before the old.”

“It is indeed,” Lord Greengrass said.

“Welcome to our home, Lord Gaunt,” Lady Greengrass said, curtseying. Hmm.

“Should I have worn a dress?” Aurelia muttered.

“You’re perfect,” Ominis said. “Do not bow.”

Lord Gaunt looked their way and Aurelia subtly double-tapped Ominis’ wrist.

“Hello, Father,” he said.

“Ominis.” Gaunt’s eyes shifted to Aurelia, looking her up and down far too slowly for her liking. His gaze caught on the scar around her right eye. “I’m hungry.”

“Breakfast has just been set,” Lady Greengrass said. “Right this way, my lord.”

The family stalked into the house like they owned it, the other men giving Aurelia a once-over as they passed, the women looking down.

“f*ck,” Aurelia muttered. “I was really hoping they’d all be ugly.”

“Oh, they are. You just haven’t heard them speak.” Ominis rolled his shoulders. “Remember your manners, darling. No setting fire to the tablecloth.”

“I make no promises.”

*

Lord Haemon Gaunt and Lady Libitina Gaunt sat in the middle of the table, as the most honored guests according to some archaic medieval rule. Around them sat their oldest son, Marvolo, his wife, Valdis, and son, Abaddon, their second son, Acrisius, his wife, Melaena, and daughter, Desdemona. Lady Greengrass sat at one end of the table, Lord Greengrass at the other. Narcissus, Margaret, Aran, and Dahlia filled out the rest of the seats with Aurelia.

Professor Ronen, Imelda, Nerida, and Callie, on the other hand, were nowhere to be seen. Aurelia was grateful. She had no doubt they could hold their own for something like this but that was under normal circ*mstances when they could prepare. Yesterday had scraped them raw and if it was going to be half as bad as Ominis described, they didn’t need to be here.

It was, as it turned out, worse.

Aurelia knew Ominis had a mean side. Hell, the first few months they knew each other was just one long experiment in Upper Class Chilly. But he’d warmed up to her eventually. Maybe it was because she knew how to talk to authority figures–which he definitely was–or maybe he was just desperate and needed help keeping Him in check. Whatever the reason, Ominis Gaunt had been nothing but gentle with her since the Scriptorium, even when they were debating topics she thought she was too dumb and poor to consider. He’d had a few stern words about that opinion too. Stern yet still with that thread of care she’d come to recognize in others who knew the taste of blood.

This…This was a different man entirely. And it was a man sitting next to her, not the student she ate breakfast with and teased about hair products. This man was collected and aware with a wit that cut to the bone. Aurelia could only sit back and marvel. The Greengrasses were nothing but the perfect hosts, polite, genteel, which Aurelia took to mean they had to act above reproach. The Gaunts outranked them because of Salazar so to be rude would or could be dangerous.

But not for Ominis. Ominis was a Gaunt, a son, and could fight fire with fire. When Lord Gaunt made a snide comment about the professors at school, Ominis shot back with a pointed question about his father’s grades and did he even pass Charms? When Acrisius sneered at something as trivial as the curtains and how much better Home was, Ominis tore apart the man’s clothes down to the stitching.

And when Marvolo turned his attention to Aurelia with all the eagerness of a beast getting to the main course, Ominis smiled and spoke in a voice so cold and so alien, she wanted to hide under her bed and never come back out.

She didn’t remember eating, though her plate was empty. She couldn’t be sure if she said anything correctly or even if she responded at all. She just came back when Ominis took her arm and led her to the library.

“Holy sh*t…” Aurelia immediately crouched into a ball, hands buried in her hair. “Holy sh*t, what the f*ck was that?”

“Explains a lot, doesn’t it?” Ominis sank into a thickly padded armchair with a sigh.

“How do you even–I didn’t–” She stood up, starting to pace. “Who was that next to your father? The woman that didn’t speak much? Sounded like a baby niffler?”

“That was my mother.”

“That’s not your mother; that is somebody’s child!”

“Yes. My uncle’s.”

A beat.

“What?!”

Ominis gave her the mildest look she’d ever seen.

“You are f*cking kidding me!” she cried. “She’s your cousin?!”

His lips twitched.

“I believe that’s how that works, yes.”

“Oh my god.”

Lady Greengrass and Narcissus came in, Ominis standing briefly before settling back into the cushions.

“All right, my darlings?” Lady Greengrass asked, perching on the arm of Ominis’ chair. Aurelia gagged.

“Ah,” Narcissus said. “Appropriate response, I think.”

“Yes, I thought so,” Ominis said. “You’re not surprised.”

“Yes!” Aurelia snapped. “Yes, I am very surprised! Abusive, yes, sad*stic, sure, but incest babies?! And when would they have even gotten married? Your brother is–she’d had to have been–f*ck!”

Ominis pressed his fist to his mouth, trying valiantly not to snicker outright. It helped, seeing such light in his eyes after that trainwreck of a breakfast.

“I thought it was just rumors,” she said. “Gaunt’s evil and inbred and sneaks out to do crazy Dark rituals naked under the full moon–”

“Well, we did have that thing at the equinox,” Narcissus said.

“And nudity is completely optional, darling,” Lady Greengrass said. “So don’t feel pressured in any way.”

Ominis finally let himself chuckle.

“You did very well, Miss Green,” he said. “I’m very sorry you had to see me that way.”

“No, no, that’s fine.” Aurelia waved her hand. “Actually, it would’ve been fun if it weren’t so horrifying. How many people have I killed? Are they serious? I just got my tea; let’s incriminate myself first thing.” She paused in her pacing. “Actually, is it possible to look through my memories to see how many I fought? I’m kind of curious now.”

“Yes,” Narcissus said. “It’s a form of self-legilimency. Not a terrible skill to have as an auror. I might have something. I’ll send it back with you.”

“Thank you. That would be very helpful.”

“Oh, are you going to be an auror?” Lady Greengrass asked.

“That’s the plan.”

“Remind me later, Ominis, darling. I have some books to send back with you too.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Aurelia shuddered, flapping her hands with a quick whine, then took a breath and turned back to face them.

“All right,” she said. “What do you need from me?”

They all smiled.

“Stay with me,” Ominis said. “Forget everything I said. I don’t want you anywhere alone.”

“That might make going to the washroom a bit awkward.”

“Please, what am I going to see?”

She stuck her tongue out at him and Lady Greengrass chuckled but quickly sobered.

“I’m sorry, darling,” she said. “It will only get more stressful.”

“I’m sorry if I made anything more difficult.”

“For a girl not born to this world,” Narcissus said. “I’d say you did very well.”

“So I’m supposed to have sweaty palms and feel like I’m about to pass out?”

“Until you get more practice, yes.”

“And we’ll be with you,” Lady Greengrass said. “Don’t worry about deportment. You and Ominis are to focus on taking care of each other, yes?”

“Yes, my lady.”

“Yes, my lady.”

“Good. Abraham has the girls; the rest of the attendees from Hogwarts and elsewhere will arrive tomorrow. I’m afraid today, you will just have to endure. Mary will make sure you’re properly dressed for dinner.”

“Yes, ma’am. Thank you.” Aurelia came over to Ominis’ chair and he took her hand. “I’m sorry. I think I might’ve vaguely threatened your sister-in-law?”

“Cousin.”

“Oh my god!”

Chapter 31

Chapter Text

Ominis was stuck in a unique position. On the one hand, Lord and Lady Greengrass seemed more than willing to entertain the Gaunts and let him disappear. Aurelia had no doubt they’d go to war for the boy they’d all but adopted. On the other hand, he was of age now and had a sense of honor she’d never really seen outside of fairy tales. The Gaunts were his family, his responsibility, and there was a history Aurelia had only begun to learn.

Ominis compromised by setting up in the parlor, available to anyone who would seek him out yet not actively inviting abuse. Thankfully, the Gaunts were as antisocial as they were cruel so the only people to look for Ominis were his fellow Slytherins.

Aurelia, meanwhile, manned her post. She took care of him and whoever came to see him and quietly read in between. Oddly enough, the routine of it, the job, was its own comfort and when lunch was served, she sent Nicholas to get plates for them.

“You’re teaching me some terrible habits, darling,” Ominis said as they ate. “I went away to school specifically so I could do things for myself.”

“Dahlia told me to be on your ass. I’m on your ass.”

He choked, coughing into his wrist.

“God, woman, really?”

“We don’t lie to each other, remember?”

“Mmm. And that question you’ve been trying not to ask for the last hour?”

It really was creepy sometimes.

“Will you teach me?” she asked.

“Teach you what?”

“How to do…that. What you did at breakfast.”

Ominis raised a brow, the corner of his mouth twitching.

“You want me to teach you how to be cruel?”

“Not–” She wrinkled her nose. “There was a billiards hall the next town over. Do you know it?”

“Vaguely. It’s a game?”

“Yes, you take turns hitting the cue ball to knock one of the other balls into a pocket along the side. Some of the men used to go. We couldn’t, alcohol and such. Gambling. Apparently, there were players that would pretend to be terrible, get someone to bet a ridiculous amount of money, then sink every ball without giving the other man a single turn. They called it ‘running the table.’”

“Ah.” Ominis smiled. “I understand now.”

“So…?”

He crossed his legs with a sigh, long fingers tapping idly on the armrest.

“Darling, I understand your…fascination. I can hear your pulse dancing from here. But it’s not a…fun skill nor a particularly ethical one. Dahlia’s lessons are more than sufficient to help you navigate.”

“As a nice young lady.” Aurelia could hear how petulant she sounded but she didn’t really care.

“Dahlia is teaching you how to play nice. You and I both know that’s not the same thing.”

“And that will work fine for when I need to deal with noble civilians but what about in the Auror Department itself? What happens when those assholes try to dismiss me because I’m some little mudblood bitch?”

“Aurelia.” That tone, ice and shadow and blood. “You will not refer to yourself like that again. Do you understand me?”

“See?” She ignored the shiver that shot down her spine. “That! How do you–I can’t even–I’m not scary and I can’t resort to violence every time I have a disagreement. That’s not the reputation I want.”

“I’m pleased to hear it.”

“So–”

“But.” He turned towards her. “Running the table like that requires you to hear, respond to, and deliver incredibly uncomfortable things. And you, my dear, have not sat through one conversation.”

“Yes, I–”

He gave her a supremely unimpressed look and she sighed.

“How can you even tell?” she asked. “I answered everything. Narcissus and Dahlia said I was good.”

“You were. I just know what running lines sounds like. You know.” He gestured to himself. “As one actor to another.”

“Oh.” Right. Growing up in that house, he probably did learn how to Speak very early on. The same way he learned how to disappear. Her stomach twisted and she shifted uncomfortably in the chair.

“I don’t do it on purpose,” she said quietly.

“I know, darling.” He reached for her and she took his hand. “I didn’t mean it as a negative. If that’s how you survived, that’s how you survived. I’m just saying that habit is rather antithetical to what you’re asking.”

“Anti-what?”

“Ah, ‘opposite.’”

“Mm. I guess you’re right. Probably doesn’t help that confrontation makes me nauseous.”

“That is also a hindrance.” He rubbed the back of her hand with his thumb, tongue darting out to wet his lips. “I’m not in the right headspace for this.”

“sh*t. You’re right. I’m sorry.”

He gave her a tired smile.

“I’ll consider it,” he said. “But not here. I don’t have the strength to be that awful to you right now.”

“I could mess up your hair.”

“You could lose a hand.”

*

People didn’t entertain when they were mourning. People didn’t visit or have engagements. Men went to work and women didn’t even leave the house for months.

Purebloods were weird.

“It’s time to get ready, ma’am,” Mary said. Aurelia glanced at Ominis, who just smiled and kissed the back of her hand.

“A challenge for you, darling,” he said. “You are familiar with Professor Sharp’s observational reports?”

“Yes,” Aurelia said. “You want me to write about dinner?”

“I want you to write about dinner. Every color you See, every gesture, every shift in tone, every comment and response you can catch, and what you thought of all of it. Later, we’ll go over it and see how observant you were.”

“I’m going to hate this, aren’t I?”

“Probably.” He squeezed her fingers. “Mary, please, make Miss Green look untouchable.”

“Yes, sir.” There was a smirk in Mary’s voice as she led Aurelia upstairs and got to work. Another thing mourning people didn’t do: they didn’t flex on other mourners. Even the pettiest, most gossipy bitch at her old church knew when to shut the f*ck up and behave. Some things were just too sacred to use in whatever stupid war they were waging.

Yet here were the Gaunts, a family that had tortured and abused their youngest son for giving a sh*t, inviting themselves over to stay for an undefined length of time to show Society they still held to the values of their peers even though they probably didn’t even know Anne’s name. It didn’t matter, though, right? The Greengrasses, a Great House, was in mourning so all of the other Great Houses of Wizarding Britain and the bannermen under them were also in mourning.

f*cking pageantry.

“Miss?”

Aurelia blinked, realizing Mary was done drawing her bath.

“Sorry,” she said, quickly undressing and slipping into the water. “Mary?”

“Yes, ma’am?”

“Am I allowed to be angry?”

“Of course, Miss.” Mary handed Aurelia a washcloth and some jasmine-scented soap and while she washed herself, the older woman started washing Aurelia’s hair. “Miss Sallow was put through far too much for such a kind heart.”

“No. I mean, yes, but I meant the Gaunts.”

“Oh.” Mary cleared her throat. “Yes, ma’am. Yes, you are most certainly allowed.”

“Good. I’m sorry you have to deal with this too. Do you…Will you and the others be able to fall apart after we’re all done? I can play guarddog at the door, if you need me to.”

“That won’t be necessary, ma’am.” A smile in her voice now, despite the topic. “We’ll be all right. The Lord and Lady are good to us.”

“All right. Well, make me pretty.”

“Yes, ma’am. Close your eyes and tilt your head back.”

Thanks to Dahlia’s instructions, Aurelia had already picked out her dresses for the funerals. The private funeral dress was a simple, medieval-cut dress of fine, smooth wool with a modest, boat neckline, and long, close sleeves. She hadn’t worn any jewelry, not that she had any. The only adornment was a thin, silver box-chain belt with a circle clasp. Because it wasn’t about her. It was about Anne and her family and the beautiful future they should’ve had together.

The public funeral, as part of the Imbolc celebration, needed more. Aurelia still wasn’t the Daughter of anything but she was associated with Ominis and the Greengrasses so she had to show up. For that, she’d brought a modern gown of crepe and lace, complete with corset, petticoats, gloves, and small hat. Of course, Dahlia had gone through everything Aurelia brought and when Aurelia wondered if maybe that dress was too much compared to everyone else, the blonde told her to add beading and embroidery.

“Flowers,” Dahlia said.

“Wildflowers,” Aurelia said.

“Wildflowers.”

This absurd dinner with the Gaunts fell somewhere in between. Ominis wanted her ‘untouchable.’ Dahlia wanted ‘educated’ and ‘proper,’ using those words specifically on the updated itinerary she’d sent up. Aurelia, personally, wanted ‘safe.’ She didn’t like how the other Gaunt men looked at her like she was a f*cking piece of meat. She also didn’t want to hide from the assholes because that would mean they won and she wasn’t about to have that.

Mary, bless her, helped her decide on a black velvet gown, another medieval cut, with a high collar that opened in a narrow V at her throat and long, tight sleeves. No embroidery, no jewelry, no accessories at all, just draping fabric that highlighted her figure without clinging.

And secret pockets in the a-line skirt for her wand and a dagger she’d become partial to after a poacher tried to slit her throat with it and she’d flipped it on him. Feeling the weight of both helped but the velvet was also a bit thin and the way it fell over her breasts made her feel vulnerable when she thought of that gross old man. Damn. Maybe a different dress after all. Or a wrap?

Someone knocked on the door.

“Come,” she said. Nicholas came in with a quick bow.

“Forgive the intrusion, Miss,” he said. “I have something from Mr. Ominis.”

“What?” Aurelia looked over at him, Mary barely pausing in curling her hair. “Is everything all right?”

“Yes, Miss. He thought this might help.” He held up a neatly folded, black silk scarf with a subtle, tone-on-tone Celtic snake pattern. “He also has a message.” He cleared his throat.

“‘This is a battlefield, darling. If you sit with our classmates, you’ll be out of the line of fire.
If you sit with me, I may well use you as a weapon or prop. I understand either choice.’”

Smiling, Aurelia gingerly took the scarf.

“Thank you, Nicholas. Please, tell Lady Greengrass I will be sitting next to Ominis tonight.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Nicholas bowed, not quite hiding a smile, and hurried away.

“Mary, can you do something with this?” Aurelia held up the scarf.

“Yes, Miss.” Mary did something complicated with her wand, finishing the half-up, half-down style she’d picked, then draped the scarf across Aurelia’s collarbone in a gentle cowl-neck. She fastened it to her shoulders with pins, letting the ends hang down Aurelia’s back almost to her waist.

“Oh, I like that.” Aurelia’s shoulders dropped with relief. The drape drew attention away from her curves and, more importantly, the scarf smelled like him, sweet, spicy cardamom, rich cedar and musk, gentle vanilla and rose. She took a deep breath and smiled up at Mary.

“Thank you,” she said. “You’re amazing.”

“You’re welcome, Miss. Ready to go down?”

Another breath, his cologne on her tongue.

“Yes.” Squeezing Mary’s hand, Aurelia headed to the stairs. A battlefield. She closed her eyes at the landing, feeling her magic thrum through her body. The others were beginning to gather in front of the dining room, Professor Ronen’s fire, Nerida’s greens, Imelda’s blues and purples. Lord and Lady Greengrass and Dahlia were a rainbow bouquet of different colors, jacks-of-all-trades. Aran favored enchantments.

Aurelia turned her head, Following Narcissus, Margaret, and little Calanthe. A bouquet of colors for him to support his wife’s illusions and divination and his daughter’s bright white of potential.

“Darling.” Ominis approached, his steps steady and solid. His magic was building towards the same rainbow as the Greengrasses, telling her Highgarden focused on a rounded education. Lady Greengrass wanted her children to know something of everything. She wanted them to survive.

But above those colors, Aurelia Saw red and orange, shielding and the ability to shape energy into damage or protection, depending on the situation. Ominis burned, his core the deep, gently flickering embers of a hearthfire.

He slipped an arm around her waist, cheek touching her temple.

“You look lovely,” he said. She opened her eyes to see the Gaunts approaching the other staircase.

“Haemon favors evocation and necromancy,” she said quietly. “Libitina uses divination but it’s sullied; the flow’s off. Marvolo follows Haemon. Valdis uses enchantments and illusions. Acrisius uses transmutation and necromancy. Melaena, conjuration. The children…” She frowned, a chill settling over her. “Evocation. They’ve already learned to cast it.”

The arm around her waist tensed as he straightened up.

“Good girl,” he murmured. “That’s very good, darling. What else?”

“Their clothes are old with fragments of enchantments in the weave. Marvolo walks as if he’s carrying a weapon. Haemon’s right hand is shaking.”

“Have they seen us?”

“The men have. The women won’t look up.”

He hummed then stepped back and offered his arm.

“Shall we?”

*

“Well, if you ask me, I think the entire idea of educating lesser creatures is a waste of time and resources.”

Aurelia had been taught at a young age that one didn’t discuss politics or religion at the table. The Gaunts, apparently, had not. She pitied Lord and Lady Greengrass. They had to play ball, so to speak, but any major confrontation could make things worse and they actually cared about Ominis’ feelings, as did Professor Ronen.

On the other hand, everyone here was a Slytherin and Aurelia got to watch an entire table of snakes hiss and slither around each other with pointed glances and backhanded compliments. Imelda was quick and sharp to guard Nerida’s quiet maneuvering. Lord and Lady Greengrass played off of each other and their children, guarding and engaging in equal measure. Because the Gaunt men were vocal, Ominis included, and there was no shortage of opinions shooting back and forth across the table.

The Gaunt women and children, however, didn’t say a word. Aurelia hated what that meant. She was also kind of grateful that she didn’t have to try and draw strangers into awkward small talk. Instead, she watched how often the women flinched. She watched when the men’s gazes shifted according to what they said or heard. Eye contact, it seemed, was its own form of combat and she began to keep score. That round went to Professor Ronen. That round went to Acrisius. That one ended in a draw between Narcissus and Imelda and Marvolo.

Ominis didn’t always win. He was smart and quick, she knew he was, but he didn’t win every interaction. He also didn’t lose. It was strange, at first. Aurelia watched, confused, as he took a hit and didn’t react. Not getting upset was its own form of control but that remark about his mother–who was right f*cking there–should’ve evoked something, right?

Then the conversation would drift, circle back, and he’d strike harder and deeper in words so mild and innocent, she had to do a double-take just to hear the insult. Aurelia realized he wasn’t losing, per se. He was adjusting. Much like when she fought and shifted her weight, he was letting a comment that didn’t matter glance off his shoulder so he could stab them through the ribs.

Once she saw that, she was able to clock when the others did the same thing, marveling at how skilled Imelda and Dahlia were even at such young ages. This, then, was what it truly meant to be a Pureblood. Lavish balls and blood-thirsty dinners, razor-thin smiles and glittering jewels.

“Quite the welcome, ‘ey? You’re not going to let these tossers win, are you, sweetheart? Where’s that spirit?”

Aurelia hated how helpless and lost she felt, like those nightmares of not knowing where class was or what she was supposed to write. Her magic crackled under her skin to the point she wondered if her hair was standing on end. But the table had an answer for that helplessness too. Her classmates from other houses, Gryffindors in particular, would go on about how Slytherins were only out for themselves and to hell with everyone else. The Snakes at this table, though, watched each other’s blindspots and moved in a complicated dance of attack and defense, shield and cast.

“We make a pretty good team, don’t we?”

“Eh, you’re all right, I guess. For a civilian.”

“Oh, new girl’s got jokes. Let’s see how funny you are after those spiders.”

Magic flickered. Aurelia’s eyes darted up and down the table, Searching for–there. Melaena sat as she had all dinner, looking at her plate, but her other hand was under the table. Aurelia let her vision Shift. Sickly orange threads coiled around that hand, wrapping around her fingers. Sparks of…black or grey jumped from the tips of her pointed nails, flicks of what felt like chilled metal. Aimed at Ominis.

Aurelia Reached for the other woman, imagining her magic as a mitten, and doused the spell with one grab. Melaena startled, eyes widening at her plate. Aurelia watched her glance sideways at Valdis, who narrowed her eyes. Interesting. Aurelia withdrew, purposefully tensing the leg closest to Ominis. The man tilted his chin down slightly in acknowledgement, not missing a beat in the conversation. She didn’t really know what she expected him to do but he registered the warning at least.

Magic flickered again. Valdis now, the same spell. Aurelia doused it as well, dirt on a campfire. Valdis clenched her fork. Now Marvolo noticed, shooting his wife a dark glare that had her quailing in her seat. sh*t. Aurelia had seen that kind of behavior before in her old town, men controlling their wives with just a look or a subtle touch that made them trip over themselves in an effort to perform because they knew what awaited failure at home. Her heart went out to the Gaunt wives, as it did for those other women, but if it was a choice between them and Ominis, it wasn’t a choice at all.

Next course. Aurelia blinked back, waiting for Lady Greengrass to start eating, then started on her own food. Fish but she couldn’t tell what kind, something tender and flaky with a rich cream sauce. Around her, the verbal sparring continued and she watched the women’s body language. They were both eating now, with both hands. Waiting? Marvolo didn’t look like he’d accept quitting.

Then Libitina moved. Aurelia wouldn’t have even noticed if she hadn’t been watching so closely, the woman so invisible as to be a statue that only shifted during a blink. It hurt to think how she’d learned to be like that. It hurt more to think she was about to try something on her own son.

Aurelia doused the spell before it could fully form. This was bullsh*t. She hated them. She hated that they were using Anne’s death as a way to flex. She hated that they couldn’t just leave their son alone. Really, what did it matter if he wasn’t at home? Everyone knew they were monsters. What did this performance of pretending to care about Ominis’ friend really do for them? Especially when they were acting like this. Were they putting the Greengrasses in their place too? Did they want something from Highgarden? His older brothers were already married and Dahlia was engaged to Aran.

And what the hell was that spell? Aurelia had watched enough evocation during school to know they were weaving damage, not protection. She wasn’t familiar with the metal-grey sparks though, which meant it was a spell the school probably couldn’t teach and the riff-raff in the Highlands didn’t have access to. Balls.

“And what about you, girl?” Haemon asked gruffly. Aurelia met his eyes.

“What, are you deaf and dumb?” He snapped his fingers at her. “Does she not speak?”

“She speaks,” Ominis said smoothly. “When there is someone worth speaking to.”

Haemon’s eyes flashed at his son, his handsome face beginning to contort with anger.

“What would you like to know, Lord Gaunt?” Aurelia asked. He looked back at her, lip curling.

“I don’t like your tone, girl. I’ve seen little chits like you my whole life, always sniffing at the heels of their betters, begging for scraps. Well, you won’t get any. That rag around your neck is the closest you’ll ever get to the Gaunt name. The blood of Salazar Slytherin runs in our veins and even the very weakest of us–” He glared at Ominis. “–is better than the best of you.”

Ominis tensed. Aurelia just smiled at Haemon, touching her knee to Ominis’, and doused another f*cking cast from Melaena.

“Oh, the roast,” Margaret said as the servers brought the next course. “Mother, you do spoil us, don’t you?”

“I try my best,” Lady Greengrass said. Aurelia held Haemon’s gaze until he broke it and she turned back to the women. They were all getting frustrated now and, as the meal progressed, they tried casting two or three at a time. Aurelia felt like she was playing whack-a-mole at a fair. It was stupid. But she wasn’t getting a headache which either meant this wasn’t taking the same kind of toll as working on Anne or she was getting stronger. Either way, she behaved herself and didn’t do anything to the women or their magic. She just blocked them.

Still…could she do something to their magic? If she wanted? When Libitina tried again, could Aurelia grab a thread and just…pull? What would happen? Would Libitina feel it? They deserved it but there were rules about guests and hosts acting against each other. Aurelia didn’t have a way to prove they were trying to cast on Ominis without revealing her Ancient Magic. Besides that, she wasn’t sure if he’d even count as an injured party in all that since she wasn’t really a ‘person’ according to the old laws.

Best not to stir up trouble. She’d make notes after dinner and–

God-f*cking-dammit, could these women just stop.

Ominis shifted, hooking her ankle with his heel. sh*t. She took a sip of her wine and a slow, deep breath. He must’ve felt her magic or maybe she was getting too tense. Regardless, she needed to calm down so she didn’t hurt anyone. This house had seen enough grief for a while.

Also, who the f*ck named their child after a demon?

Dessert finally arrived, a delicious strawberry cake. Of course, Haemon and Marvolo had comments to make. Aurelia ignored them, Watching. Oh, Acrisius this time. Points for multi-tasking, the useless f*ck, but he wasn’t going to win either. Aurelia clamped onto his hand, except the spell didn’t gutter right away like it had with the others. She Shifted just enough to see him and his magic and watched his eyes.

“Why would I listen to someone so ignorant?!”

She tightened her grip. His magic snapped and popped. His gaze grew dark and intense, boring through as if he could kill her with a glance. Hatred. That was it. He hated her, hated that she existed, hated that she dared try to fight back. Good.

The spell snuffed out. Acrisius swore under his breath.

“Well,” Lady Greengrass said. “Shall we adjourn to the parlor for coffee and music?”

“I’m going to bed,” Haemon said, standing. “Come, girl.”

His wife hurried to follow him and the sound of shuffling chairs filled the room as everyone began to break off.

“Well done, darling.” Ominis stepped into a side hall and pulled her into a tight, one-armed hug. His other hand clutched his wand. “Are you all right? What happened?”

Instead of tying up her own hands with a proper hug, she let her head rest on his shoulder and just breathed. Damn, she was starting to shake.

“They were trying to cast,” she said quietly. “I don’t know what it was. All the wives and Acrisius. They were trying to cast at you.”

“Mmm.”

“You’re not surprised.”

“Not particularly, no. Are you all right? Does your head hurt? Any blood?”

“No, no blood. I’m just angry.”

“Now is not the time, darling.”

“I know. I know.” She lifted her head. “Are you all right?”

“I am, thanks to you.”

She nodded and he squeezed her waist.

“Did you want to join us?” he asked. “Or would you rather retire? Either way is fine.”

“I–”

“My my.” Acrisius’ smooth voice slid down her spine. “What a fascinating little toy you have, Ominis.”

“Acrisius.” Ominis straightened up, turning to face his brother. “Enjoy your dinner?”

“Yes. Quite unexpectedly.” Acrisius looked Aurelia up and down, a unique mix of contempt and interest in his eyes. She lifted her head, feeling her power rise up like an eager hound. It had been prowling along the bars all night, testing her control like it had the night of the Yule Ball.

“Nothing to say, lovely?” he asked. “Well, I suppose my brother isn’t f*cking you for your voice.”

Her power pulsed through the house, a quick, heartbeat-thud of pressure that stole the air from the room and rattled the walls. Acrisius’ eyes widened, she saw his breath catch, then it was over and the other man just stood there, gawking like he’d seen a ghost.

“Oh, yes,” Ominis said, chuckling darkly. “Quite lovely, indeed. Run along now, Acrisius. I know you need your beauty sleep.”

Acrisius narrowed his eyes, malice settling around him like a cloak as he sized up the younger man. Ominis just held his gaze, impassive, and after a moment, Acrisius shot one last glare at Aurelia and left.

“That was foolish,” Ominis said.

“An unfortunate accident. It’s been a very emotional time.”

He blinked at her then smirked and shook his head.

“You are just a baby, after all,” he said.

“Exactly. Still learning.”

“I’m glad you liked the scarf.”

“I love it. When do you need it back?”

“If you like it, it’s yours. Consider it compensation for that awful dinner.”

“I’m going to need a lot more than a scarf.”

“Oh, really.”

“Yes. At least a song and a trip to the bookstore.”

“Fine,” he sighed, rolling his eyes. “You drive a hard bargain, Green.”

“I learn from the best.” She stepped away, flexing her hands. “We should join the others.”

“You can. Or, as I said, you can retire. I know it was stressful and I think Margaret has already made her escape to Callie.”

“Could you walk me to my room then? Give my apologies to Lady Greengrass?”

“Of course.” He offered his arm and they headed upstairs. “I know it was overwhelming.”

“Maddening, more like. How do you keep your temper in check? How did Imelda, of all people, not climb over the table?”

“Impressive, isn’t it?”

“It’s terrifying.”

“That’s what I said.” He glanced down at the carpet. “I’m sorry. Truly. This is an awful enough time without you having to fight. Thank you for protecting me though.”

“It’s what I do.”

“Mmm.”

She rolled her eyes, poking his side.

“That was a joke,” she said. “I’d have blocked the cast for any of you.”

“I know.” He offered a small, almost shy smile. “Thank you.”

They reached her room and she gave him a proper hug with her arms under his jacket. It felt much better and, for the first time all night, she was able to relax.

“I’m going to write down everything I remember,” she said. “Especially that spell. I don’t know how to translate it though. Any ideas?”

“You said Freya helped you before so she knows you can do Something. I’ll tell her when I get to the music room. What can you tell me about it?”

“Evocation of some kind. Damage. Necromancy, maybe. It felt like…metal. And cold.”

He hummed and pulled away.

“I think I have an idea what it was,” he said. “For tonight, ward your room. I’ll tell Mary to be ready for it in the morning.”

“All right. Good night, Ominis.”

“Good night, darling. It will all be over soon.”

Chapter 32

Chapter Text

The next day was a heavier version of the ‘Hurry Up and Wait’ before Anne’s first funeral. Roses, tulips, and hydrangeas of almost every color covered every surface in the house, set dressing for the Purebloods, and food was laid out almost as soon as people woke.

Dahlia sent an itinerary to Aurelia with Mary, a much denser list this time. Otherwise, there was no contact. Aurelia was well and truly on her own to take care of Ominis. That was fine though. Dahlia, Narcissus, and Margaret had to play the Good Hosts with their parents, greeting guests as they trickled in for the three o’clock service. Aurelia didn’t envy them that responsibility at all.

“All right there, Green?” Imelda socked her in the shoulder when she made it down for breakfast. “Crazy last night, huh?”

“Mad,” Aurelia said. “You were incredible though. You all were.”

“Well, thank you.” Imelda wore slacks and a dress shirt like Aurelia, at least for now, strong and together. Except for her eyes. Her eyes were red and her bottom lip was bitten raw. “What was that after, though? Ominis said it was some kind of…slip?”

“It’s been a rough couple of days.”

“Uh-huh.” Imelda gave her a shrewd look then smirked and looked over Aurelia’s shoulder. “There’s his highness now.”

“Time to clock in then. See you later, Reyes.” Aurelia headed over to where Ominis was investigating the buffet table.

“Hello, darling,” he said.

“All right, you couldn’t have possibly heard me just now.”

“Jasmine soap.”

“Isn’t that too personal for a gentleman?” She slipped an arm under his jacket for a hug. “What do you want to eat?”

“Oh, are we doing that again?”

“Yes.”

“Whatever you’re having. I don’t have much of an appetite.”

“One of everything coming right up. Did you want to eat in here?”

“Mmm, no, I think I’d rather hide for a bit longer.”

“All right.” She loaded two plates with a bit of everything then followed him.

“Talk to me,” he said.

“About what?”

“Come now, you must have questions. Ask. Give me something to think about.”

“I have a lot of questions.” Aurelia glanced around at the esteemed company they passed in the halls. “Not sure how appropriate they are.”

“Even better. Ask. You won’t offend me, I promise.”

“All right, let’s start with I thought you came from money yet their clothes look like threadbare out-of-season castoffs from fifty years ago.”

Ominis snickered, managing to still look completely natural when someone greeted him, and led them further into the house.

“I’m so glad you’re here,” he said. “Yes and no. The Gaunts are descended from Salazar Slytherin’s great-great-granddaughter, Androctasiae. It was a profitable match with an ungodly dowry but Salazar was…well. You remember.”

“Batsh*t?”

“Quite. Tell me, how did the Roman Empire gain so much wealth?”

“Wars. Conquest.”

“Very good.” He found an empty study, shut the doors, and led the way to a set of wingback chairs and a small, round table. A wave of his hand had the fire roaring in the hearth and they started eating. “What happened when they stopped conquering?”

“Infighting. Corruption.” She tilted her head. “I suppose they always had that though. But didn’t they start eating themselves after a while?” A blink. “No new blood means no new wealth. It’s dried up.”

He smiled. In this light, he looked much more like his normal self, if a bit wan. She settled more comfortably in the antique chair.

“My paternal grandfather died early,” he said. “My father took over as Lord Gaunt, continued to spend ridiculous amounts of gold to flaunt our connection to Salazar, and refused to make any kind of good decision regarding anything from personal hygiene to economics.”

“So how did you happen? Is this Greengrass money?”

“In a way. My father lives for the worship of others and that doesn’t work if they revile us so there must be at least the attempt at ‘society.’ When the Greengrasses took me in, the story became I was sent here to study. A younger son of a Great House learning from another Great House could only be good for the family. Look how willing they are to work with others. Of course, to maintain the charade, I did actually have to learn how to earn money. Over the years, I’ve gotten very, very good at making business friends–careful to ensure that I’m the only Gaunt they interact with–and to keep the family off my back, I send back stupid amounts of gold.”

“Huh. Is there…You have paperwork, surely.”

“Oh, of course. Everything’s spelled out in black and white.”

“Should I be worried?”

“No.” He gave her a softly amused smile. “I’m fine, darling. That’s actually my project come summer, severing all ties.”

“All right. So.” She cleared her throat. “How did you meet Anne then?”

“Ah.” His expression grew a little distant then he shook himself and crossed his legs. “Their mother was kin to the Greengrasses, enough of a link they could explain it anyway. After Mr. and Mrs. Sallow died, Freya offered to let the children stay here. Solomon took them back to Feldcroft after a…disagreement about Anne’s treatment.”

“I’d wondered about that. The money versus treatment options versus that house. Nobody really talked about it.”

“I imagine not.” He took a drink of his tea. “Quite the elephant in the room, wasn’t it?”

“Just a little.” She mimicked him, taking a drink of her own. “And you being a prince and not just by blood?”

“Well,” he said with a laugh. “Hollis and Freya are nothing if not thorough. I learned economics, languages, all the social graces my father didn’t care about because why should he when he’s descended from a wizarding god, and thus I became the awkward little bird you see before you.”

“Aww.” She smiled then shook her head with a sigh. “Damn, you’re impressive.”

He grinned, touching his forehead in a little mock bow.

“Hollis has also been very good about teaching me protections,” he said. “I’ve been slowly diversifying my assets and now that I’m of age, I can officially get the ball rolling. Hence the paperwork.”

“And they can’t f*ck with you in the meantime?”

“No. Not financially anyway. Seeing them here though…” His jaw tightened. “I’m more grateful than ever that we were able to say ‘goodbye’ yesterday. It’s…humiliating…being reminded of what I came from.” His lip curled. “What I’m related to. Gods…”

“Are all the families like that?”

“Rude and unwashed?”

“Obsessed with their trinkets. The way Haemon kept throwing around that damned ring, I thought it was going to fall in his food or something. I didn’t want him to choke. At first.”

Ominis laughed.

“The devil himself wouldn’t take that man.”

“I believe that.” She propped her chin on her hand and lowered her voice. “Any thoughts about last night?”

“My, what a personal question.”

“Payback for the soap comment.”

He smirked.

“Yes,” he said. “I believe it was a spell that affects the blood.”

She swallowed.

“That would’ve killed you.”

“It might have. Or it might’ve just been meant to incapacitate because I’m showing too much independence and they know they won’t get any more of my money soon.”

“Mmm. So is that what this was then? Reminding you of your place?”

“Everything is about reminding me of my place. No matter what I do or where I go, they can always drag me back.”

“No, they can’t.”

He smiled, looking seemingly at her.

“I believe you.”

“You ever going to change your name?”

“Maybe. Sometimes I want to redeem my name. Other days…Who knows? Maybe I’ll change my name when I get married.”

“Oh, is that what all this is for? Getting the house ready for your Missus?”

“And what about you? Auror Department, business school, new branches of magic. What have you got up your sleeve?”

She grinned, opening her mouth to respond, when something plucked. She glanced towards the study doors, Searching. A wizard, his magic full of blues and reds.

And black. Lots of black, like mold on a damp, crumbling wall.

She shuddered, rolling her shoulders. More witches and wizards had rot in their magic than they liked to pretend. For every Lord and Lady Greengrass, there were two dozen random villagers that gossiped about their favorite torture methods in broad daylight.

Across the table, Ominis placed both feet back on the floor.

“I’m afraid we’re still on stage, darling,” he said.

“Mmm.”

She Watched the wizard hesitate at the closed doors then continue on. She let out a breath and the sound let Ominis relax.

“I figured,” she said. “We probably won’t be able to turn off until we’re back at Hogwarts so how would you like me to behave?”

“Oh.” He made a face. “Don’t say it like that. Makes me feel like I’m as controlling as they are.”

“I’m deferring to your experience. You’re not abusive.”

“You promise?”

“I promise. Eat your food.”

He chuckled.

“Yes, ma’am.”

*

Today would be the day Anne was actually buried. They’d laid her in her coffin before but now there were great black carriages with black crepe curtains and large black ostrich plumes drawn by black horses with silver tack and more plumes. There were ushers and attendants, musicians, everyone in uniform.

Ominis found a balcony for them to spend most of the day, listening to Aurelia describe who had arrived and telling her who they were. Given how complicated this level of society was, it took a lot of time and led to pretty interesting questions. And some swearing. She realized she understood how politics and Purebloods worked pretty well; she just had no patience for their generations’ worth of bullsh*t.

The clothes were pretty though.

“It never ceases to amaze me how keen your eye is for fabrics,” he said. “Can you really tell what they’re wearing from here?”

“Well, to a degree. Some of it’s more knowledge of how the garments are made. Some pieces have to have certain kinds of fabrics, some fabrics only move certain ways.”

“Magic doesn’t affect that?”

“Not as much as you’d think. From what I’ve seen, enchantments work with the natural properties of the cloth, not against. Flow, structure, breathability.”

“Mmm. There are enchantments in that scarf, you know.”

She froze. sh*t, she hadn’t even checked.

“Ah.” He grinned. “Sounds like something you need to work on.”

“Why would I question Nicholas? You said you like him.”

“I do. But how did you know it was really Nicholas?”

“I…f*ck.” She leaned back in her chair. God, no wonder Ominis was so on edge when they first met, if that was how he had to think all the time. “Are you sure I can’t just punch him in the face? Or the dick?”

“Nicholas?”

“Haemon.”

“I’m sure, darling. Sacred hospitality is just that: sacred.”

“So I have to behave.”

“While we are on this estate, yes, you have to behave. Now, if one of them decides to come after you, you are welcome to whatever’s left of them.”

“Left.”

“Well.” He shrugged. “I’m not completely helpless.”

“Uh-huh. So what happens after you break from them? You said that was your goal this summer but you’ve been using your name to flex at school. Are we worried about that?”

“No. I mean, it’s true I won’t be able to use their clout anymore and I don’t have the same connections or…leverage…they do but I’m tired of feeling disgusting. I’d rather live a small, comfortable life than be a hypocrite with them.”

“Proud of you.”

He smiled.

“You were actually my inspiration.”

“Really?”

“Really.” He looked towards the gardens. “Hogwarts?”

“Looks like it. Wow, that’s…f*ck, that’s almost our whole class and a lot of the younger ones. Jesus, did they leave any teachers at the school?”

“Excuse me, Miss.” Mary stepped out onto the balcony. “Mr. Ominis. It’s time for Miss to get ready.”

“So now’s the time to run, then,” he said. “Wonderful.”

“Skirts or not, I can still whip you.” Aurelia ruffled his hair as she walked by.

“Hey!”

“Ew, how much product do you use?”

“Obviously not enough. Take her away, Mary, before I drop her off the balcony.”

“Yes, sir.” Mary shared a grin with Aurelia and the two headed back to her room.

*

“Ladies and gentlemen.” Lord Greengrass stood at the top of the front steps, voice magically enhanced. “Thank you so much for coming. If you’ll all take your places, we’ll begin the procession in a few minutes.”

Ominis stood waiting at the lead carriage in full dress robes, shaking hands and accepting condolences from adults and students alike. Aurelia sidled up next to him in her gown, hat, and gloves and slipped the sunglasses she’d made into his palm. The corner of his mouth twitched, either in amusem*nt or thanks, and he put on the sunglasses before greeting the next people in line.

The Gaunts stayed at their carriages, thank god. Older guests greeted them but the students barely gave them a bow before hurrying off to wherever they needed to be. According to the itinerary Dahlia gave her, Anne would be carried out to the hearse soon then that carriage would lead the entire procession to Highgarden’s family cemetery on the other side of the estate. Every House knew their place in line. Students and teachers that belonged to a House rode with them while the few non-House students rode with their friends. Aurelia counted maybe five of those.

“Stay here,” Ominis said. “I’ll be back.”

Aurelia squeezed the back of his arm in acknowledgement and watched him head inside. Almost immediately, the crowd arranged itself in neat lines along the drive. Music played, bagpipes, in a slow, mournful tune she didn’t recognize. A few minutes later, Lord Greengrass, Narcissus, Ominis, Benedict, Aran, and Professor Ronen carried Anne’s coffin to the open hearse in the front.

“In you go, darling.” Lady Greengrass put a hand on Aurelia’s shoulder, she and Dahlia looking impeccable as always. Lord Greengrass appeared to hand them all into the carriage then climbed in with Ominis. And then they were moving. No one said a word for a while. They just listened to the clip-clop of the horses’ hooves under the music.

Aurelia took a bag of candied oranges out of her pocket and offered them around. Lord Greengrass gave a small smile as he took one, Dahlia nodded, and Lady Greengrass squeezed her hand. Ominis didn’t respond to what he could probably smell so Aurelia just put a couple oranges in his hand and kicked his foot.

“Bossy,” he murmured.

“I’m not about to let you pass out in front of a hundred people.”

“Actually,” Dahlia said. “I think it’s closer to three.”

“Are there more people here than at Christmas?”

“Oh, yes,” Lady Greengrass said. “A lot of families host Yule Balls.”

“Right.” Aurelia glanced at Ominis, who was slowly eating the oranges. Good. She patted her skirt for her wand for the umpteenth time. No flare-ups yet but that didn’t mean anything. There were a lot of people here and assholes liked to take advantage.

When they arrived at the cemetery, Lord Greengrass handed down the women as the crowd made their way to the gravesite. More roses and hydrangeas, more plumes. The pallbearers carried Anne to the site, gingerly setting down the coffin in front of a life-sized statue of a beautiful, young woman. She held a bouquet of wildflowers in her arms and had flowers in her hair and along the long, flowing dress. A nymph, maybe, not old enough to be Demeter herself. Aurelia recognized Greek letters on a chain around the woman’s neck. Persephone, maybe?

Ominis came back to stand next to her, folding his hands in front of him. She didn’t touch him. Lady Greengrass didn’t either. The older woman just took her place on a small platform next to the statue and began to sing. It was beautiful, of course it was, but Aurelia would never remember what it actually was. She was too busy Watching for casts, noting the different colors in the crowd.

Through the song, through the prayers in what sounded like Gaelic, Latin, and Greek, through the coffin lowering into the earth, Ominis stood still and Aurelia stood with him. Then began the long process of every guest tossing white roses onto the coffin. She had the absurd thought that the hole would fill so high with roses they wouldn’t need dirt. Wouldn’t that be awkward.

At last, it was just the two of them. Aurelia slipped her hand into the crook of his arm and he looked down. She held up two roses and his brow furrowed.

“She hated roses,” he said. “Said they smelled like old people.”

A flick of her wrist changed them to sunflowers and she slipped one into his hand. He smirked, gloved fingers gently running over the petals.

“Good girl,” he said and dropped the sunflower in the grave. “Slan a dheirfiur.*”

He turned away.

“I’ll wait for you at the carriage.”

Aurelia watched him walk down the hill. What was she supposed to say? ‘Sorry’? ‘Forgive me’? Nothing sounded right. And the others were waiting for her to get back in so they could go to the house so a song wouldn’t work either. Did Anne sing? She must’ve. The Greengrasses enjoyed music too much and He…

She couldn’t remember ever hearing Anne sing. She’d been too busy working to listen but she hoped Anne got to sing with Ominis at least once before the end. They must’ve sounded beautiful together.

She dropped the sunflower in the grave and got back in the carriage.

Chapter 33

Chapter Text

Ominis grew more and more tense as the day wore on, back impossibly straight, shoulders so tight she thought he might break if he moved too quickly. So she watched for the break. A nod at a noble, murmured thanks to a classmate, shaking hands with a teacher she didn’t recognize…

“I need to speak with Sebastian,” he said.

“All right.”

“Now.”

sh*t. He could only apparate to points he’d been to and she hadn’t taken the class yet.

“Let me get Dahlia,” she said. “Do not leave without me.”

Her tone was enough to make his lips twitch but that was it. She squeezed his wrist one more time, half in comfort, half in warning, and went to find one of their hosts. Dahlia was in the next room, playing the Perfect Daughter, polite yet somber, affected yet still together.

“Miss Greengrass.” Aurelia stepped up at her elbow and only had to wait a second for Dahlia to lower her head towards her. “Ominis wants to see Him. Right now.”

Dahlia nodded and waved over her brother.

“Narcissus will take you.”

The man nodded to Dahlia then gestured for Aurelia to go first. No instructions, no explanations. This family really was prepared for everything. Later, she’d have time to be more impressed and add that level of communication and forethought to her goals list. Right now, she hurried back to Ominis.

“Narcissus,” he said. “Thank you.”

“Of course.” The older man led them to an empty room and locked the door. “You won’t be allowed your wands inside so you’ll have to guide him, Miss Green.”

“I understand,” she said. Narcissus nodded and held out his hands for them to take.

“Have you ever apparated before, Miss Green?”

“A couple times. With Professor Fig and Aran.”

“Good. It can be…disorienting.” His hands tightened and, suddenly, the world tipped and spun in melting colors. Then they were standing on an island in the middle of the ocean, waves crashing around them, foul-smelling spray icy and sharp on her face. Azkaban loomed overhead, just as cold and nauseating as the first time she’d come.

“I’ll wait for you here,” Narcissus said. “Do you see the gate?”

“Yes.” Snippets of old sermons flashed through her mind about the gates of hell and wide was the path that led to destruction. She pushed them to the back of her mind, took Ominis’ arm, and led the way up. A smaller, inset door opened as they approached and they went inside. Damp, chilled, uneven stone in the floor, the stench of mildew and rotten seawater in her mouth. She’d been in ruins off the coast that were in better shape.

“Can I help you?” a bored voice said. Ominis turned towards what looked to be a guard station with an iron grate across it and another guard stepped out of the shadows.

“Wait!” Aurelia stepped between them. “He’s blind. It’s how he sees.”

The second guard narrowed his eyes but moved aside. The guard behind the grate ushered them forward.

“Names?”

“Ominis Gaunt,” Ominis said. “And Aurelia Green. We’re here to see Sebastian Sallow.”

“Pass your wands through for weighing. They’ll be secured in a locked and warded cabinet here for the duration of your visit. You can collect them on your way out. Don’t give the prisoner anything, don’t accept anything from the prisoner, the Ministry is not responsible for any harm that befalls you during your visit. Do you understand these terms?”

“Yes.”

They handed their wands over, Aurelia watching with a sort of detached fascination as the guard put them in a copper scale and paper streamed out.

“This way.” The second guard opened the next gate. Aurelia took Ominis’ arm.

“Five stairs up to the gate,” she said quietly. He nodded and the three of them made their way deeper into the prison. Almost immediately, the temperature dropped even further, an awful, cloying fog sinking into her chest. She glanced up. Dementors swirled overhead, only two. She remembered more but that might’ve been because of where they were. Prisons had different security levels, didn’t they?

As it was, they only had to go up to the fourth floor. Well. ‘Only.’ The stairs were narrow and worn, any prisoners that caught sight of them screamed obscene nonsense and rattled the bars, and the higher they went, the more Dementors swooped and hovered. The guard was no help. He walked too fast, either not noticing or not caring that they had to go slower. Aurelia glared at his back but didn’t try rushing Ominis. Not like she couldn’t find the way on her own.

Although, Seeing in here was…a new kind of terrible.

“Here.” The guard stopped further down the corridor and waved his hand at a cell on his right. “Take as long as you want. When you’re ready to leave, go out that door, take a right, two lefts, and another right to the gate. Have a nice visit.”

He didn’t even wait for them to catch up before he was hauling ass back the way they came.

“Pansy,” Aurelia muttered. “Almost there.”

Ominis nodded, lips tight, and then they were at the cell. Aurelia took a breath. He sat on the floor in the corner, His prison shirt hanging off shoulders she remembered being much stronger. She could smell the filth, the sick, and when she Looked, His magic was so dim.

Ominis shifted.

“We’re here,” she said. His head jerked up.

“You!” He shot to His feet and stomped over to the bars. “How f*cking dare you show your face to me!”

“Sebastian,” Ominis said. “We didn’t come to fight. Lady Greengrass submitted a request for a furlough months ago. You should’ve gotten a letter.”

“Right, that letter. ‘So sorry, young Seb, Annie’s kicked the bucket, I’m sure the flowers will be lovely.’”

“Wildflowers.” Ominis’ hand tightened around Aurelia’s but his face stayed clear. “We did a small service for her two days ago. She had wildflowers.”

His eyes cracked, just a little.

“Did you sing?”

“Yes.”

“What was it?”

“Fill, fill o’ run.”

He gave a small, broken smile.

“She loved that one.” His face hardened, a vicious sneer twisting His mouth as He glared at Aurelia. “But she wouldn’t have needed it if you’d just done your f*cking job!”

“That’s not fair!” Ominis stepped in front of her. “She’s a child–”

“So was I!”

“She starved herself for you, for months, gave up sleep, risked her education, risked her life time and again for you. She did everything she could to give Anne a good night at Christmas and it nearly killed her–”

“Then she should’ve died!”

“Sebastian!”

Aurelia rocked back on her heels, ears ringing so loud she couldn’t hear what else they said. She just watched, as if through glass, as He grew angrier and angrier, yelling and swearing, spittle flying from His mouth. Ominis yelled back, more furious than she’d ever seen him. That was…wrong. He shouldn’t be like that. Anger like that hurt.

She pulled him behind her, limbs heavy and water-logged. Ominis tried to move past her but she blocked him, staring Him in the eye as He yelled. Her eyes were dry. Were they supposed to be?

“–ling.” A strong arm wrapped around her waist. “Darling, that’s enough. We’re done.”

“Darling?” Sound rushed back. She heard Him laugh as He gripped the bars. “Oh, is that what this is? So cute together you are, the cripple and the failure. Was that the plan? Get us out of the way so you can live your pathetic little domestic dreams?”

“Sallow, you–”

“She’s not been in the ground a whole day and you dare come in here, parading this–”

“We came here for you!”

“Enough.” Her power swept through the hall. Both boys fell silent and she stepped forward, covering His hands with hers. He met her gaze, muscles in His neck and jaw flexing like piano wire, and she let her eyes wander over His face. His hair was greasy, His cheeks a little thinner, but it was the same nose, same mouth. Same…

“You get out in less than two years,” she said, her voice strangely calm to her ears. “You know where to find me.”

He smiled, a terrifying echo of the smile she used to know.

“It’s a date, sweetheart.”

Reaching back for Ominis’ hand, she led him out of the prison, absently murmuring warnings as they went. The guards couldn’t give them their wands fast enough. Hmm. They must’ve felt her too. Just the same, she Checked that their wands were really theirs before returning to Narcissus. The apparition back to the Greengrass estate was a little easier. Or she just didn’t notice.

“Take him inside,” she said. Narcissus gave her a shrewd look much like his sister before nodding and putting a hand on Ominis’ shoulder. She didn’t bother to wait until they were gone. She just found the nearest door outside and ran.

She ran and ran and ran until her lungs burned and her body ached. She ran until she couldn’t anymore, falling to her knees with a scream that shredded her throat. Power erupted, racing across the hills in waves of silver-blue light. She kept screaming.

Then it was done. She sat back on her heels. It…didn’t even hurt. She was just…empty.

Something crunched behind her. Too tired to turn, she waited until whatever it was decided to eat her. A shiny black boot stepped into her vision and she looked up. Professor Sharp. Right. The professors had come to the funeral.

He drew his wand. She frowned, confused. Even her head felt empty. Was he here to punish her?

He shifted his stance and with a flick of his wand, she was on her feet with her wand in her hand. Confundus charm. She blocked it. Dancing hex. Block. Jelly legs. Block. Bombarda. Dodge and counter.

Slowly, the spells began to speed up, lights flashing brighter and brighter. Back and forth across the hill they dueled, the older man sliding through the grass with a grace she never expected. There was no telegraphing, no jerks or hesitations. He simply adjusted, flowing from block to deflection to attack to counter like they were steps to a dance.

At last, she staggered back, panting, sweat soaking into her clothes. Professor Sharp lowered his wand. He wasn’t even winded. And god, that was just…so unfair.

Her wand slipped from her fingers and she clenched her fists, squeezing her eyes shut.

“I know.” He came closer, gait uneven. Ah. He was limping again. “I know. But rule number one is good people die. And rule number two is: Aurors can’t change rule number one.”

“But I could’ve saved her. If I’d just…if I’d known–”

“Being young isn’t a sin. You do the best you can with what you have and try to do better next time.”

She looked at him, throat and lungs full of glass.

“How?”

He put a hand on her shoulder, dark eyes full of pain that seemed to burn.

“You will see them again,” he said. “One day. But not yet.”

She swallowed.

“Not yet,” she said.

“Not yet.” He dropped his hand. “Pick up your wand. It’s about to rain.”

*

“We’re so sorry about Anne.”

“Are you all right?”

“Whoa, you went to the funeral? Did you cry?”

“Please, accept our condolences.”

Aurelia knew the nightmares would ramp up after they got back to Hogwarts so she didn’t even go to Hufflepuff. She passed Ominis off to Aran and the others and went straight to her Room. That was two days ago.

And she’d heard nothing but simpering and pitying hums since. Poppy, god bless her, was the only one at the Hufflepuff table that didn’t. She actually changed the subject to something else, usually beasts, and her chatter was enough to chase off the others. But Aurelia didn’t have every class with the girl and if one more person looked at her like she was about to break, she was going to blow up the whole damn tower.

“Miss Green.” Garreth stood up when she got to their desk in Charms, something he’d never done.

“No.” Aurelia pointed her finger at him. “You are the snarky, irreverent asshole I rely on to keep me going; don’t puss out on me now.”

He burst out laughing, holding his arms open for a hug. She obliged, pleased when he kept it at the friendly, ‘just shoulders touching’ level, and they sat down.

“You look awful,” he said.

“Thanks.”

“Poppy said you haven’t been coming home.”

“Well, I woke them up screaming enough last term. Are you going to ask her to the Valentine’s dance?”

“What?!” He flushed as red as his hair. “I mean–I–h-how do you–of course, she is–I mean, not that that’s…”

Aurelia smiled and took out a pouch of chocolate-covered blueberries. That had been a complete guess, just something to fluster him, but for him to get that sputtery was just adorable.

“Have one,” she said. He shot her a look that was part glare, part relief and popped a couple in his mouth.

“That was mean,” he said.

“But you’re so cute when you blush.”

“Bitch.”

“Asshole.”

They shared a grin. It felt nice.

“All right, in all fairness,” he said. “You should know that the whole ‘you not coming home at night’ is causing a bit of a kerfuffle.”

“A kerfuffle, you say. What kind of kerfuffle?”

“The ‘you’re shacking up with a certain blind rich boy’ kind.”

“Ah. Trust me, if that were happening, I’d be a lot less stressed.”

Garreth choked on a blueberry, coughing and laughing into his wrist.

“Merlin, we missed you.”

She clapped him on the back and smiled.

Chapter 34

Chapter Text

So quiet up here. So dark. Aurelia looked down over the railing. She couldn’t see the ground from this height, just shadows, but she could imagine the pavement below. Rough. Uneven. Hard.

“It’s called ‘l’appel du vide.’”

She startled, spinning on her heel as Ominis cleared the landing.

“‘The call of the void,’” he said. “The primal, nearly universal urge to step off the ledge into nothingness.”

He came to stand next to her at the railing, wand safely tucked in his pants’ pocket as it pulsed and glimmered.

“Why are you here?” she asked.

“Because I’m worried about you. I thought you might be at the Valentine’s Ball with Miss Sweeting but she’s being nauseatingly adorable with Mr. Weasley.”

“They are cute, aren’t they?”

“Mmm.”

“How are you?”

He sighed.

“I’m here,” he said. “How are you? You’ve been awfully quiet since we got back.”

“Oh. Sorry.”

“That wasn’t a criticism, darling. I…actually, I’ve been trying to find a way to apologize to you.”

“To me? Why?”

“Because you were taking care of me when you should’ve been allowed to grieve. I’m sorry for that.”

“Oh. No, it’s fine. I’m fine. You knew her better than I did. Not like I was going to let those assholes get one over on you.”

He gave a small smile and a comfortable silence fell. She looked back out at the forest, imagining the darkness out there slipping into her chest, filling up her lungs like smoke. Valentine’s Day. Hard to believe Anne had been gone for two weeks. Aurelia had worked so hard and so fast preparing for the day she died, now that it had happened, she wasn’t quite sure what to do with herself. She’d just been…existing in a fog. Poppy was getting worried. And Natty. Aran and Garreth acted the same, thankfully, but she wondered when they’d start looking at her differently too.

She wondered when Ominis would start. Her throat began to ache.

“Why are you here?” she asked.

“I told you. I’m worried.”

“No, I mean…why are you here? Why do you care? I’ve hurt people, I’ve killed people, I took away your family. Why do you even talk to me, much less help me? How are you not–how can you…f*ck.” She squeezed her eyes shut, clenched her fists at her side. “I’m sorry. I didn’t–”

“Because I wanted easy.” He gently took her wrist, turning it so he could rest his thumb over her pulse. “I wanted so badly for the Dark Arts to be the reason everything went wrong. Because if they weren’t, if Sebastian wasn’t corrupted, if my family…” He swallowed thickly and took a breath. “Then that means it was a choice. And that hurts. God, it hurts so much. And every time Sebastian brought up his research or curses or whatever else, I’d get angry. Scared. He knew what I went through, what they did. It felt like he was betraying me. I should’ve done more. I should’ve listened, talked to him. Maybe then…”

He lifted his head.

“So I suppose I’m using you as much as you’re using me, both of us trying to assuage our guilt with a meager substitute.”

“You’re not a ‘meager’ anything.”

“Aww.” He tried a smile, thumb rubbing light circles on her skin. “I’m sorry. I don’t know how else to fix this. I just know you’ve become rather important to me.”

Her lips twitched.

“Even if I’ve killed people?”

“Darling, you and I both know there are far worse things than death.” He let go and she folded her arms. It really was a beautiful night.

Then Peeves’ off-key caterwauling reached her ears and Ominis groaned.

“He really needs some new material,” he said.

“Sounds like he’s in the stairwell.”

“Yes. Suppose we’ll have to disillusion ourselves.”

“Or…”

“Or?”

She bit her lip.

“I could fly us down. It would save time.”

He wrinkled his nose but Peeves was getting louder so Ominis just sighed.

“Promise you won’t drop me?”

“I promise.” She summoned her broom and straddled it. “All right, come here. Have you ever been on a broom before?”

“Years ago. Fell in the lake.”

She grimaced.

“Yeah, that would put me off too,” she said. “Come sit behind me.”

He did, arms sliding carefully around her waist. She squeezed his wrist.

“I have to get over the railing,” she said. “Tuck your feet close.”

Again, he obeyed and she slowly moved them over the railing. His grip tightened.

“It’s all right,” she said. “Take out your wand so you can see.”

Peeves was nearly halfway up the tower now, bellowing his stupid limericks and blowing raspberries at anything that moved. Ominis took out his wand and held it tight. She smiled.

“I won’t let you fall,” she said. “Moving a little further away from the tower now so we don’t hit anything.”

“Fine.” Even his voice was tight. She didn’t comment though, just flew slowly away from the tower until they were hovering high above the ground.

“It still gets to me too, sometimes,” she said.

“Then why do you keep on?”

“Because I feel free.” She squeezed his hand again. “We should move further out. Are you ready?”

He gave a short nod and she leaned forward just enough for them to move. No Lumos though, not yet, not this close. She didn’t really need it anyway. The moon was nearly full, a bright, shining pearl that calmed the fraying in her chest. She took a deep breath, the chilled air helping even more.

“Ready to go a little faster?” she asked.

“How much faster?”

“Walking? Quick walking?”

“I think that would be all right.”

Nodding, she urged her broom a little faster and soon they were lazily soaring into the night.

“Look up,” she said. “Can you see the moon?”

“A little. It’s bright tonight.”

“It is. I love moonlight. Feels so much better than the sun. Less…buzzing.”

“Buzzing.” There was a smile in his voice. “You sure that’s not just the idiots you’ve had to deal with?”

“That is very possible. How are you feeling?”

He clicked his tongue.

“I don’t hate it,” he said.

“Good. That’s progress. Now, the Slytherin common room is…the other side? What’s the easiest way to get there? The Quad?”

“At this time of night, probably.”

“That means we either have to go over a bit of water or we go the long way round.”

His arm flexed where it rested against her stomach.

“The water’s fine.”

“All right. Here we go. How far is the range on your wand?”

“A few hundred meters.”

“Really.”

“Get to know me, darling. I’m amazing.”

She laughed and flew towards the other side of the school. The red light from his wand pulsed as they went and she made sure to go slow enough he could register the changes.

“How does it feel?” she asked. “The tops of the buildings?”

“Like pavement, which, coincidentally, is where we should be. If men were meant to fly, we’d have been born with wings.”

She snorted at the sass in his tone.

“Says the wizard,” she said. “Be nice or I’ll get your socks wet.”

“You wouldn’t dare.”

“Do you really want to give the driver attitude?”

“Oh, I don’t like this power dynamic at all.”

Snickering, she reached back to hug him around the neck.

“And if you look to your right,” she said. “We’re passing over something that will probably feel like sticking your hand in a pile of leaves. That’s the garden by the Ravenclaw tower. And the bridge and some gargoyles and…”

She frowned, staring at what could either be a person or a very angry chest. She didn’t much like either option so just kept on.

“What?” he asked.

“What ‘what’?”

“You shivered. Are you cold?”

“No, just…eyes playing tricks on me.”

“Why, Miss Green. Are you afraid of the dark?”

“No.” She elbowed him, wheezing when he tightened his grip around her waist. “Easy! I’m not gonna drop you. I’m just afraid of what’s in the dark. There’s a difference.”

“Of course, darling. Never mind that you’re probably scarier than anything in the Forbidden Forest right now.”

“I don’t know about that. Ever had to fight one of those spiders?”

“Somehow I get the feeling you’re not talking about the little things we get in the dungeons now and again.”

“No, I mean these massive creatures that would try to eat Highwing.”

“Oh, god, you didn’t.”

“Spider screams. They scream, Ominis. They make noise.”

“Please, stop talking.”

“It’s this high-pitched shriek at first then there’s this weird shudder at the end where you can hear their mandibles click together.”

“I swear to god, Aurelia, I will drop you in the lake and no one will ever know.”

“Please.”

“The squid and I are actually quite good friends. His name is Henry.”

She laughed.

“What?”

“Yes. Henry VIII. Because of his eight arms.”

“How do you know it’s a ‘he’?”

“Because his name is Henry.”

She snorted and slowly eased them over the covered walkways leading to the Grand Staircase.

“I hope you appreciate how rare this is,” he said. “I don’t fly. Ever. I did enough to prove to Professor Kogawa I wouldn’t die then I never touched a broom again.”

“It’s not a bad skill to have in an emergency.”

“I know and that is the only reason I relented.”

“Mmm.” She bit her lip. “Trust me?”

“Obviously or I wouldn’t be up here.”

Mmm, bit snippy but she couldn’t really blame him. Instead, she just covered the hand around her waist with her own and flew just a hair faster. Now they were moving at what she might call a gentle canter, the wind brushing by enough to ruffle their robes and hair but not enough to jostle. Slowly, he began to relax and she smiled up at the stars. She still felt raw inside, hollow, but the warmth at her back soothed the ache a little. She could…feel past the ache, anyway. Given the last couple years, she’d say that was probably the best she could expect.

At last, she let out a breathy sigh.

“All right,” she said. “I think that’s enough. Ready to head back?”

“If you are.” He was just holding her now, not gripping her like he was about to drown. Actually, he felt rather relaxed. Smiling, she eased them back towards the Quad and before she knew it, their shoes scuffed the pavement.

“Ta da,” she said. “This is where I leave you, Mr. Gaunt. Have a wonderful night.”

He laughed, a soft, deep sound that crept past the chill.

“And you, Miss Green. Although I suppose I should offer to escort you back to Hufflepuff.”

“No, I think I’m going to fly a bit more.”

He gave her a Look.

“Just a little,” she said. “I’m not quite tired yet.”

“Fine. But if I find you didn’t sleep at all, we shall have words.”

“Yes, sir.” She clicked her heels together and he rolled his eyes.

“Good night,” he said.

*

She did sleep. Some. At least, better than she had the last couple days and she was actually in a decent mood. Ominis came to Hufflepuff for breakfast where she swore up and down she made it back before sunrise, no, really. Transfiguration was interesting, Poppy drew a new version of her future preserve (with a conservatory this time), and Aurelia didn’t light anything on fire. All in all, a good morning.

“Look alive, Green.” Garreth plopped down next to her.

“You’re early for Charms,” she said, not looking up from her notes. “I’m impressed. How was the dance?”

“Fun. Poppy’s a peach.” He dropped his bag on the table with a loud thunk. “Word on the street is you and Gaunt had a romantic moonlit flight last night.”

“Oh?” sh*t. Nobody over third year cared what Peeves had to say so someone besides the dumb spirit must’ve seen them.

“They’re calling you the ‘Slytherin Slag.’”

She swallowed. Anne.

“That implies more than just the two,” she said lightly. “Who’s on the list now?”

“Well, Sallow, Gaunt, Thompson, Reyes–”

Aurelia snorted.

“Seriously?”

“I mean, that one’s not so bad.” Garreth grinned, nudging her shoulder.

“She would kill me. I would be dead and you’d have to deal with your aunt all on your own for the rest of school.”

“Ew, no, don’t do that to me.” His grin faded. “Just…wanted to give you a heads-up. It’s been on since last year but it’s been getting louder lately.”

Sweet boy.

“Thank you.” She smiled despite the urge to scream. “I’m not worried.”

“You sure? I mean, I could probably find out who’s stirring the pot.”

“Eh.” She waved her hand. “Stuff like this is never just one person. Somebody says something, somebody adds something else, someone makes up something completely different out of whole cloth. It’s fine, Garreth. I’ve certainly been called worse.”

“Well, not by me or any of my friends. Any Gryiffindors give you sh*t, you tell me or Natty. We’ll sort them out.”

Her smile widened. That helped the ache too.

*

“Today, we’re learning about makeup.” Dahlia drew her to an elaborate vanity set against the wall with a mirror that felt like it was competing with the Keeper portraits. “I will do your makeup to show you what it’s supposed to look like then walk you through step by step so you can replicate it. Well. So you can attempt to replicate it.”

“I know how to put on makeup,” Aurelia said as she sat on the ridiculously plush stool. “My neighbor taught me. I did my make-up for the Yule Ball.”

“That’s nice, dear.” Dahlia waved her hand and the edge of the mirror glowed as she sat on a stool in front of her. Pots of cosmetics and brushes of various sizes covered the top of the vanity. “We start with a clean face. You’re in art class. Clean palette, clean tools, clean canvas.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Don’t nod; I’m trying to work.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Straightforward, no nonsense, clear. “May I ask you something?”

“As long as you don’t move.”

“There’s a rumor–several rumors, really–about Ominis and I. Is it…Am I hurting him?”

“Hurting? Circe, no. Close your eyes.” A charm of some kind tingled across her face like mint, followed by another charm that felt…soft? “Moisturizer. Consider it a primer like gesso.”

“You know art supplies?” She didn’t need to see to know the Look Dahlia gave her. “Right. I’m just worried about…well, I know he doesn’t care about his family but he’s trying to build a reputation of his own. If I need to change–”

“Has he said anything?”

“No.”

“Have I? Has Aran?”

“No.”

“Then you’re fine.” Smaller brushes and something creamy along her lids. “And so is Ominis. Trust me when I say he can handle himself. His tastes run to other things anyway.”

“What do you mean?” Aurelia opened her eyes, making Dahlia purse her lips.

“You have to let the shadow dry,” she said.

“Sorry,” Aurelia said. “What do you mean about Ominis?”

“Oh. He’s queer, darling. He likes men.”

Aurelia blinked at her.

“It’s not some state secret,” Dahlia went on. “Though it’s not something we particularly talk about either. A lot of Pureblood families are like that. So long as the family’s reputation is intact and heirs are produced, they really don’t care what individual members do. Close your eyes.”

Aurelia obeyed, more out of shock than anything else. Ominis was…really? She’d never thought…

Her stomach dropped. Bad enough that there were rumors about her. She hated it, hated people lying about her, but she’d never been able to scream loud enough to change anything. It hadn’t worked at her old town so it probably wouldn’t work here and she didn’t have the energy to try.

She did, however, have the energy to worry about Ominis. That morning, all she’d had to worry about was people thinking she was either a toy or a damaging embarrassment that would sully his future prospects.

But if people knew about him being queer…

“Aurelia.” Dahlia’s thumb on her cheek made her jump, eyes flying open. “Oh. Darling, I’m so sorry. I really thought you knew.”

Another tear rolled down Aurelia’s face and she slapped it away.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I have to–I’m sorry. I’ll make it up to you.”

She fled the classroom, heels clicking loudly on the stone, practically running to the nearest floo. She fell out on the flying practice lawn, breath coming in labored gasps.

“Stop it! Leave him alone!”

“We didn’t do anything!”

“No! Don’t–Take me instead! Take me!”

She threw up. Then again, then again until she was just dry heaving next to the Summoner’s Court. No. No, she couldn’t–It wouldn’t happen again. This time was different. She could fight now. This time–Not again. Never ever ever again.

Hocking phlegm into the grass, she wiped her mouth and straightened up. So. She’d play the whor*. She’d just let them talk and talk and talk because really, it was just words and words couldn’t beat someone to death in the street.

“I’ll be fine. It’s fine.” She straightened her clothes. Still early yet. She’d go back to her Room, read for a bit, then go down to Potions.

Everything would be fine.

Chapter 35

Chapter Text

Not responding proved harder than she expected. The stories got more and more outlandish, though Natty assured her they were just as crazy last year. Aurelia just hadn’t been there to experience them.

“They’ll die down,” Natty said. “Garreth will blow something up or someone will think their best friend turned into a turkey and they’ll move on to something else.”

“Right.”

Dueling, at least, was a good distraction. Professor Hecat rotated the dueling partners sometimes, alternating between random pairings to simulate assignments and established partners to build trust. Today was an ‘established’ day and Natty had been practicing. If Aurelia didn’t focus, she’d lose her hand.

“Awake yet?” Natty asked.

“Waiting on you,” Aurelia shot back. It helped. It helped until Potions the next day, where, of course, Leander had to talk sh*t right behind them.

“Ignore him,” Ominis said. “It’s just his big ego talking.”

“I’m quite sure that’s the only thing that’s big,” she said. He snorted.

“I adore you,” he said, then winced. “Sorry. I’ll be more circ*mspect.”

Heat flared in her chest, sharp and painful. So he’d heard too.

“No,” she said. “We are not changing our behavior because some sh*theel can’t get a life of his own. You’re my friend. I’m not ashamed of that.”

“Nor I. Do you have the lacewings?”

“Yes, right here.”

Now it was March. She was grinding her teeth at night and her temples throbbed from constantly Scanning for Ominis. It felt like she was back on the hunt, every noise making her fingers twitch for her wand, every voice tightening her legs. Her back ached from the tension in her shoulders and she had no appetite to speak of. But Ominis was safe. It was fine.

She was fine.

“Limping a bit there, Green.” Leander found her in the hall one day before lunch. “Didn’t think Gaunt had that kind of stamina.”

Naturally, the longer she didn’t react, the more vulgar the comments got. She should just keep walking. She should let it be. But today, a boy in Charms had managed a ricochet shot to her thigh, she was sore, tired, and Dahlia had had to cancel their last session for N.E.W.T studies.

“What’s the matter, kitten?” Aurelia turned with a smile. “Jealous I’d pick a blind man over you?”

Leander’s smug, sh*t-eating grin dropped and his pack, because people like that always had a pack, ‘oohed’ and snickered.

“Pretty smart mouth,” he said, stalking closer. “Best watch your tongue, mudblood.”

“Guess I’ll have to since you’ll never see it.”

“You–”

A gaggle of firsties trundled through, loud and boisterous, and Aurelia took the chance to floo to her Room. sh*t, her hands were shaking and it felt like burning coals had lodged in her chest. God, she could scream.

Work. There was always work to do. But they were in between donation dates, Penny and the shop were doing well, all of her school work had been done and revised a hundred times…

The repository. Yes, that would do.

Shaking out her hands, she stalked to the table where she’d laid out all of her work on the pain magic. She wasn’t entirely sure she’d gotten the properties right given she hadn’t actually experimented on the mess but Professor Avicenna liked where she was headed.

The next step was figuring out how to shrink the damn thing and that was proving an absolute bitch. Two dozen different diagrams lay on her table, each with a list of pros and cons. One idea kept the magic in its semi-liquid state but that one required an organic host to put it in. Another idea had her turning it into a stone of some kind and putting it in a necklace. She liked that one, liked the aesthetic and convenience of something that small. And it was her original plan but…

What if she did just use a living host? She couldn’t use anyone or anything with their own magic; creatures over a certain size and magic ability got too high off of it. But what about something smaller? Or someone weaker?

Or what if she just…took it herself? Isidora said she got high off the ‘essence’ but that was only released during their extraction process. There shouldn’t be any of it left. So what if she took in the pain magic and just…stopped?

Her hands suddenly felt cold.

“What’s the matter, sweetheart? Come on; you’re smarter than this.”

She gripped her hair. He’d taught her how to research, how to quote and record sources, how to weave it together into something new when all she could see were oddly-shaped pieces.

“You can do this. You’re pure dead brilliant when you wanna be. Just step up and try again.”

She squeezed her eyes shut.

“Damn you,” she muttered. “Damn you!”

The clock chimed. Was that lunch ending or beginning? sh*t, she couldn’t stay here any longer. Grabbing her bag, she ripped a brush through her hair, threw it in a quick braid, and headed to Defense. If class was starting, great. If not, maybe she could take out some of this restless energy on a training dummy.

*

“Oh, think you’re so much better than all of us, don’t you, Green?”

Aurelia squared her shoulders and kept walking. Another day, another headache. Leander hadn’t liked being dismissed before Christmas and he didn’t like being ignored now. It didn’t matter. It was just squawking, barking. He was just a yappy, little dog.

“It’s not going to work. You can’t muscle your way into being decent. You’ll never be anything but a mudblood whor*.”

It was a nice day out. Maybe she should head down to the lake for a bit, see if she could draw Henry. Did she have her sketchbook with her?

“Or maybe I should just ask Gaunt. He’s in the music wing, right? Think I’ll pop over and have a quick chat.”

She stopped.

“Oh ho! Didn’t like that, did you? I think that’s what I’ll do, catch Gaunt, see if he’ll share. Obviously, you can’t be all bad if even he wanted a taste.”

She turned on her heel with a smile that felt cold and slimy.

“Poor Leander,” she said, voice sickly sweet as she looked him slowly up and down. “I don’t know why it’s so hard to understand. But you are so…small, after all.”

His lip curled.

“Mudblood bitch,” he snarled. “You are nothing! You only got in on the charity of your betters! If it weren’t for that old bastard, Fig–”

She stepped up nose-to-nose, still smiling.

“So jealous,” she said lightly. “So angry. So pathetic.”

“Shut up.”

“I get it though. Nothing but your name. No personality, no friends, certainly no girlfriend. Have to do something to make yourself feel worth it, right?”

“Shut up, Green!” He grabbed the front of her robes. “You shut your whor* mouth! I don’t have to take this from you!”

“Prewett, knock it off!”

“Someone get a teacher!”

Aurelia just kept smiling.

“Do it,” she whispered. “I dare you.”

His fists tightened, her uniform creaking in his grip.

“You can’t,” she said. “Can you? Scared, lonely, weak Leander.”

With an awful snarl, he shoved her hard and she flew down the granite steps, smacking her head on the floor. Someone screamed. She heard shoes shuffling and thumping on the stone but the floor tipped, tried to spin.

“You stupid whor*!” Leander was on her now, one hand gripping her collar, the other raised above him. “I was nice to you!” He punched her in the face. “I called you ‘pretty’!” Another. “I danced with you in that ugly f*cking dress and this is how you repay me?! How f*cking dare you!”

Pain shot through her, every blow knocking her back into the floor. Something cracked. She tasted metal.

Huh. That Ravenclaw’s shoes were untied. That wasn’t safe. He should tie them before he tripped.

“You are nothing! You’re just a fat, ugly, stupid bitch! No one will ever want you!”

Oh. She was going to be late for their tea in her Room. Damn. She’d have to go to the kitchens later for some of those cakes Ominis liked so much. Maybe she could bring the elves some flowers. Amit said they liked that, didn’t he? Or was that Arthur?

“Aurelia!”

Magic swept through and suddenly Leander’s weight was off her chest. She gasped, coughing. Someone knelt next to her.

“What the f*ck is wrong with you people?!” A girl? Aurelia tried to look but it suddenly hurt to move.

“You wretched whor*son.” A boy. She looked down and saw a boy standing at her feet. His robes brushed her ankles. “Give me one good reason I shouldn’t kill you where you stand.”

People moved around them, towards him. Panic spiked through her chest. No. No, they couldn’t–She had to–

“Easy, girl. Don’t try to move.”

She fought through the hand on her shoulder, floor lurching, stomach rolling. The crowd kept moving, getting louder, yelling…something.

“No…”

Power began to build, light like fire swirling around the man. Her ears rang; she couldn’t hear what they were saying but she tried to sit up.

“No, don’t…Don’t hurt him…”

Louder. Torches. Weapons. Something held her back and she fought harder, reaching for the man.

“Take me instead! Don’t hurt him! Take me!”

Whatever held her pulled harder. The crowd got closer. Her vision began to swim.

“Kill me!” She clawed at the floor, tried to reach. Black filled her eyes. Blood choked her throat and she tried to throw the weight off her back. Not again, not again, not again. “John!”

She was off the ground. She kept fighting, twisting.

“No…” Fabric in her hands now, something hard and broad against her. She couldn’t see, blood and black and someone was making ugly, wet noises. “No, please!”

Metal clanged then she was on the floor again. She tried to get up.

“Come back to me, darling.” Strong hands on her arms.

“Merlin and Circe, what happened?!”

“f*cking Prewett.”

“Gods. Hold her still.”

Pain exploded behind her eyes and she cried out.

“Aurelia.” That voice again, deep and soft right by her ear. “Aurelia, come back. You’re safe. You’re alive. Come back to me, darling. Come back, please.”

“Omi…nis…”

“Yes, darling. I’m here. I’m right here.”

More pain wrapped in delicate shades of violet and lavender.

“Breathe. I need you to slow your breathing. Can you do that for me?” He moved behind her, one hand over her heart. “With me, darling. Come on.”

He took a long, deep breath, his chest rising behind her. She choked, tried to get up again.

“Ah ah ah, not yet, my flower.” A woman’s face came into view, pretty, young, worried. Aurelia’s gut twisted again. Oh. She’d upset Professor Garlick.

“‘M sorry,” Aurelia whispered. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

“Shh shh shh, nothing to apologize for. Hold still. I’m almost done.” Professor Garlick waved her wand, muttering words Aurelia couldn’t make out. Oh. The purple was from her.

“What happened?!” The door banged open. She jumped, Ominis’ holding firm, and watched Professor Ronen and Imelda storm into the greenhouse.

“Good gods,” Professor Ronen said. “Mirabel…”

“Fractured eye socket, broken nose, broken cheek, fractured skull. We need to get her to Noreen.”

“He pushed her down the stairs,” Imelda said.

“Who did?” Professor Ronen asked. “Ominis, who did this?”

“Leander Prewett.” Ominis’ voice was dark and laced with blood. “We found him beating her to death on the landing near the rhino.”

“f*cking hell…”

“We’ll deal with him later,” Professor Garlick said.

“I’ll deal with him now,” Ominis said. “Professors, if you could make sure–” He started to rise.

“No!” Aurelia threw herself away from all of them, scrambling to her feet. “No, I’ll take care of it. It’s fine.”

“It’s not fine!”

“I had it under control!”

“Oh, yes, letting him punch you in the face over and over was completely in hand. My mistake.”

She glared at him, leaning heavily on a potting table.

“I’m fine.”

“Six broken bones is not ‘fine,’” Professor Garlick said gently. “Can you tell us what happened?”

“It’s nothing.” Aurelia wiped her mouth, wrinkling her nose at the feel of blood seeping into her sleeve. “I’m handling it.”

“How?!” Ominis asked. “If we hadn’t stopped him, he could’ve killed you!”

“Then you should’ve let me die! You didn’t help me! You made yourself a target! Now I have to–I can’t–” Oh, god, she couldn’t breathe. What the f*ck. What the f*ck, what the f*ck, what the f*ck–

“Green–”

“I’ve got her–”

“Darling, please–”

“Who’s John?” A rough hand grabbed her arm, spinning her around. Imelda. “Green. Who is John?”

Aurelia gripped the table again. Her heart started pounding and black edged her vision.

“I thought you yelled ‘Gaunt,’” Imelda went on. “And that’s what I’ll say if someone asks. But it wasn’t. Was it?”

Her ears rang so loud. Imelda held steady.

“You weren’t trying to save Prewett,” she said. “You were trying to save Ominis. Who did you see? Who were you reaching for?”

Aurelia clenched her teeth, shaking her head. She had to get out. She had to–Leander was probably at Gryffindor Tower by now. She could fly up if the stairs were blocked or Natty could let her in–

Strong arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her back from–Oh, she was going for the door again.

“Darling, please.”

She clutched his wrist.

“Honey…”

“Please.” Hearthfire along her back, wrapping her up. “Talk to me. Tell me what happened.”

She gagged, twisting, but he held fast and she squeezed his eyes shut. He was so warm.

“Please, Aurelia.”

Like an enchanted blanket.

“They weren’t evil,” she managed. “They weren’t. They were kind and sweet and looked out for me. Taught me to cook. S-sang for me.”

Ominis curled around her and she gulped in his scent like she was drowning.

“They dragged Matthew out first,” she said. “John was screaming. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t–I just hid and-and watched.”

She looked at Imelda, grabbed the other girl’s arm.

“I can’t let that happen again. I can’t. I have to get to Prewett. I–”

“That’s why you haven’t been fighting the rumors,” Imelda said. “You goaded Prewett into attacking you. So he’d leave Ominis alone.”

“I should’ve–If I’d just had my magic…If I just–If I weren’t such a f*cking coward…”

“No, no, no.” Professor Garlick hurried over, gently cupping her cheeks. “No, my dear girl. You were a child.”

“They would’ve killed you too,” Ominis said, cheek against her hair. “John and Matthew wouldn’t have wanted that.”

Aurelia tried to shake her head, tried to pull away, but no one would let her go.

“They were my friends,” she said. “They were good and-and–f*ck, if it weren’t for that stupid preacher and that stupid law–” She looked up at Professor Garlick. “I can’t let it happen again. If they know about Ominis–I have to–They weren’t evil! They weren’t!”

“My dear, sweet girl,” Professor Garlick said, her hands cool and soft. “They were a couple, weren’t they? Your friends?”

Aurelia’s eyes widened, her whole body going stiff. Ominis pulled her closer, one arm across her chest to grip her shoulder.

“It’s not your fault,” he said. “It’s not your fault, my darling. You weren’t there. You were a child. You weren’t there.”

“But I was–”

“No.” Professor Ronen came around the other side, close but not touching. His eyes were so kind and…sad. “Motek*, you must be so tired.”

Aurelia nodded once then what he said actually registered and something deep inside just…cracked.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered “I’m so sorry. I tried. I’m so sorry…”

Professor Garlick drew her into a tight hug, soft and warm and she missed them so much…

“Let it out, my darling,” Ominis said. “You’re safe here.”

The cracks got bigger, louder. She burst into tears and wailed.

Chapter 36

Chapter Text

“Oh.” Aurelia blearily lifted her head after far, far too long falling apart. “Oh. Oh, god.”

“No.” Strong hands spun her around and clasped her neck. Ominis looked her in the eye. “No, you are not apologizing for this.”

“B-but I–I just–” She clutched his shirt, panic rising. “I just outed–Ominis, I’m so–”

“Be quiet.”

Her jaw clacked shut.

“You are not responsible,” he said, gently touching her cheek with his thumb. “You are not responsible for John and Matthew’s deaths. You are not responsible for Professor Fig or Lodgok or Anne. You are not responsible for me.”

She whimpered, hands shaking at her sides.

“I know,” he said. “I know, darling, and I am so, so sorry you’ve carried this for so long.” His voice cracked and he swallowed. “You don’t have to carry it alone anymore. You don’t have to fight alone.”

She reached up to clasp his wrists, something, anything to keep her from feeling like she’d spin into a thousand pieces.

“Things are different here,” he said. “Honestly, as long as heirs get made and the family name is protected, they couldn’t give a rat’s ass. But even if that weren’t the case, I do not accept you dying for me. Please, darling. Let us help.”

“I…” She frowned, looked at him and the others. “I don’t understand.”

“Oh, my little lotus,” Professor Garlick said, tears in her eyes. She put a hand on Aurelia’s shoulder. “Someday, you will. For now, you need to rest.”

“But I…”

“Aurelia,” Ominis said. “Please.”

He was the only thing holding her up. Everything hurt and she felt raw, scoured like an upturned cauldron. She was so tired.

“You’re not failing anyone,” Ominis said. “I promise. Please.”

Closing her eyes, she gave a weak nod.

“Thank you, darling.” He pulled her close, kissing her temple. “Good girl. Professor Ronen.”

“Right,” Professor Ronen said. “First things first. Mirabel, if you and Mr. Gaunt could take Miss Green to the Hospital Wing, I will take care of Mr. Prewett. Miss Reyes, I’d like you to spread the word through Slytherin House. Miss Green will be added to the rotation.”

“Yes, Professor.” Imelda squeezed Aurelia’s arm one more time and headed out.

“Try and rest, Miss Green,” Professor Ronen said. “You are not alone in this fight. Not anymore.”

Aurelia watched him leave, suddenly feeling terribly exposed. She turned out of Ominis’ grip and wiped her face.

“Um…Th-thank you for…I didn’t mean to…”

“Darling,” Ominis said. “I have no problem throwing you over my shoulder again.”

“That was you? You carried me here?”

“While you were trying your best to climb the walls, yes.”

She cringed. There was blood on his shirt and neck. Some in his hair. Her blood.

“Sorry.”

“It’s fine. You only elbowed me in the face a couple times.”

Professor Garlick chuckled and offered Aurelia a handkerchief embroidered with tiny purple and yellow pansies.

“Come,” she said. “I have a floo in my office.”

Madam Blainey met them in the Hospital Wing in an absolute tizzy, forcing Aurelia to a bed, whipping a curtain around, and telling her to strip. Apparently, she’d heard already.

“Professor Garlick healed most of it,” Aurelia said.

“I’m sure she did,” Madam Blainey said. “Let me see.”

Which was just as well because now that she was beginning to crash, Aurelia realized how very banged up she was. She’d had worse last year but it still wasn’t fun and it was oddly nice to see someone getting angry on her behalf. If she’d had any energy left, she would’ve cried again. As it was, she just stood or sat as Madam Blainey told her and tried not to shiver at how cold the bruise paste was. It smelled like lemon.

When she was done with her inspection, Madam Blainey gave her a light, cotton robe, pulled the curtain open, and went to speak to Professor Garlick. Ominis sat in the chair next to the bed.

“Are you all right?” Aurelia asked. He blinked, incredulous.

“Am I all right?” He ran a hand over his face. “Gods above, woman.”

“Sorry.”

“No.” He looked towards her. “I’m sorry. All those battles you kept diving into, all those requests you accepted…I thought you were just trying to get people to like you. I thought you were more like me, that it was a way to establish your position and keep yourself safe. I never realized you were trying to fight something else. Fix something else.”

“You weren’t supposed to.”

He sighed.

“I know. And I know, better than most, how that much blood weighs down your tongue.” He tilted his head. “That’s why you’ve been losing weight again, only letting yourself sleep a few hours at a time. You’ve been on guard since we got back.”

“Mmm.” She blinked slowly at him. “I’m sleepy now.”

“Then you should rest.” Standing, he placed a light hand on her head then carefully moved to her shoulder. He gently pushed her down to the bed. “It’s your turn now, darling. It’s all right.”

He brought up the covers, a sheet that was surprisingly smooth, a thin woven blanket, and a fluffy comforter that smelled of lavender. She felt that empty urge to cry again.

“Ominis…”

“Rest.” He made sure the covers reached her chin and pressed against her back then sat down. “I’ll be right here if you need me.”

“But–”

“Ah ah ah. Just say ‘thank you.’”

“Thank you.” She shifted, reaching for him, then stopped, embarrassed. He just reached over and took her hand.

“Rest.”

*

“Aye, cheers, ya c*nt, next plan was liftin’ it from the bottom. Cannae believe ye can even tie yer shoes in the morning. Yeah, yeah, f*ck off, ya twat.”

She blinked, staring as He threw some kind of rude gesture at the other man and stalked back to her.

“What?” He asked.

“I really want to comment on what just happened but I have no idea what you just said.”

“Oh, that?” He gave a dismissive wave. “Nothing to worry about. Just some idiot thinking he knows everything.”

“What the hell! Why’s your voice different? What the f*ck, are you having me on?”

He burst out laughing.

“Sweetheart,” He said. “Did you think I was English?!”

“Well…”

“We’re in Scotland! I live here!”

“So does Professor Ronen and he talks about going home to Israel all the time!” She was blushing now, which only made Him cackle harder. “Oh, just forget it! Can we go now?”

“Of course, princess.” He gave a great, sweeping bow. “Boireannaich an toiseach*.”

“Oh my god.”

She didn’t say a word to Him the whole trip, stubbornly ignoring His entirely one-sided conversation and wishing to god she’d brought a bigger scarf to hide her face. Or that stupid mermaid mask. That would’ve worked too. Or a bag.

“I’m going to bed,” she said after they set up camp.

“Oh, guess I’ll take first watch then, shall I?”

“You do that.”

“Pleasant dreams, my little racist.”

She threw a rock at His head.

Aurelia jerked awake, eyes wide in the dark, heart racing.

“It’s all right, darling.” A soft murmur from the bed next to her. “It’s all right. You’re in the Hospital Wing.”

“Ominis.”

“I’m here.” He sat up, making his way to her with his wand. “Madam Blainey gave you some potions to take. They’ll help you feel better.”

It hurt to move, hurt worse to try and sit up, but she managed and obediently took the potions he gave her. He held a smaller bottle in his other hand.

“Good girl. One more.” He gave her the last. “Dreamless Sleep.”

“But…”

“Even magical bodies need rest to heal. Now go on. Bottoms up.”

Again, she obeyed and almost instantly felt drowsy again.

“‘Minis…”

He chuckled and tucked her back in.

“We’ll speak in the morning.”

The next time she woke, she was groggy, her body heavy and sluggish, and she’d drooled on her pillow. Had she even moved? f*ck, when was the last time she’d slept like that? Probably the last time she’d gotten knocked out.

Hmm. Best not tell Ominis that.

“I don’t care what was going on outside the castle!” Madam Blainey? “That is a child!”

Aurelia went still, not daring to breathe.

“Shh shh shh, it’s all right.” Ominis moved quickly to sit on the edge of her bed. “It’s all right. You’re safe.” He started stroking her hair. “Breathe, darling.”

“How dare you stand there and tell me you didn’t notice! I am severely disappointed in you, Matilda. Do you have any idea how many bones I’ve had to heal on that girl?! How many I’ve had to break and heal properly?”

Aurelia gasped, curling smaller under the covers.

“Professor Weasley is in Madam Blainey’s office,” Ominis said, his voice wry. “I take it this is the first time you’ve been admitted?”

She managed a nod.

“I thought so.” His long fingers carefully fixed her covers, each move meticulous, and his face was set in the same mask as the Gaunt dinner. Her heart thudded hard in her chest, her throat aching.

“Oh.” He blinked. “Oh, no, darling, I’m sorry.” The mask slipped away as he stroked her hair again. “I’m not angry at you. I am…well, I suppose you’ll find out sooner or later. There are medical diagnostic spells like there are for Defense and Potions. Madam Blainey cast one to see what the damage was so she could treat you better.”

Oh. Yes, she vaguely remembered the rainbow sheen of a spell when she arrived. Or was it after?

“That bad?” she asked.

“Not from Leander.” He rubbed his lips together, anger threading back up through his neck.

“If Eleazar were still alive, I’d strangle him with my own hands! Then I’d heal him and do it again! That is a little girl in there with injuries I’ve only ever seen on muggle soldiers! If she hasn’t been clinically dead at least six times, I will eat my license!”

Aurelia blinked towards the office.

“Where were you?! Where were any of you?!”

Tears welled and she turned into the pillow. Madam Blainey was…mad…for her? She…saw?

“Unclench your jaw.” His long hand rested gently on cheek. “Bring your tongue down from the roof of your mouth. Good, now deep breath for me. Good girl. One more time. And again. There. Now, Professor Garlick brought your toiletries and there’s a washroom through there. Go clean up.”

She did feel gross and her mouth tasted like one of those spiders had died in it.

“All right,” she said, sitting up. Sore but not as bad. Headache but not as sharp. “What time is it?”

“Half past seven. Do you need help?”

“No, I can manage.”

“All right. I’ll wait for you here then.”

Nodding, she hurried to the washroom with her things. Madam Blainey wasn’t yelling anymore but the silence was almost worse. At least before, Aurelia knew what was going on.

That knot in her gut made her move even faster and soon, she was back in bed, smoothing her hair and hospital gown. Ominis was back in his chair. Ah. He’d cleaned up too, hair neat, uniform fresh. A new wave of guilt washed over her. He still came back. After everything, he still came back.

“Darling…”

The office door swung open, making Aurelia jump, and Professor Weasley and Madam Blainey walked into the main infirmary. Their grim faces twisted Aurelia’s gut even tighter. Ominis slipped his hand into hers.

“Miss Green,” Professor Weasley said, taking the chair on the other side of the bed. “It’s good to see you awake. How are you feeling?”

“I’m all right.”

“She most certainly is not–” Madam Blainey began.

“Noreen, please.”

Madam Blainey pressed her lips together and moved to Aurelia’s other side, silently waving her wand in complicated whorls Aurelia couldn’t follow.

“Professors Ronen and Garlick told me what happened,” Professor Weasley said gently. “I won’t make you relive it. And I think I know why and how it got to that point. So I suppose my question is: how can I help?”

Aurelia frowned.

“Ma’am?”

“There’s more to this than just a rumor. And wounds, especially old wounds, can flare up at the most frustrating times.”

Aurelia looked down at her comforter, picking idly at a loose thread.

“I don’t know how to answer that,” she said.

“No. I suppose not.”

“I’m sorry I caused so much trouble. I didn’t mean to.”

“Oh, child, no.” Professor Weasley put a gentle hand over hers. “You’re not any trouble. Why would you think that?”

Aurelia raised an eyebrow at her and the older woman chuckled.

“All right,” Professor Weasley said. “Your safety is no trouble. Better?”

“Better.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“No. I’m sorry but…not now. I can’t.”

“I understand.” Squeezing her hand, Professor Weasley sat back and folded her hands in her lap. “Madam Blainey has brought some disturbing information to light. We will need to discuss it but perhaps we should discuss the practicals right now.”

“Yes, please.” That, at least, Aurelia could wrap her mind around. “Fighting is prohibited so I assume I have detention with someone?”

“Of course not!” Madam Blainey snapped. Aurelia startled, eyes wide.

“No, my dear,” Professor Weasley said. “Whatever you said to Mr. Prewett is irrelevant. Everyone is responsible for their own choices and he chose to behave abhorrently. No, Miss Green. You will not be punished. Mr. Prewett…” Professor Weasley pursed her lips. “Unfortunately, I am not at liberty to expel Mr. Prewett. He has been confined to his quarters except for classes and meals and his privileges to Hogsmeade, Quidditch, and all extracurricular activities have been revoked for the rest of the year. I’m afraid I can’t do more than that.”

Another day, Aurelia might’ve felt angry or betrayed but she was still too hazy from the greenhouse, a hollow fog swirling slowly in her chest. Prewett. The name meant something…

“They’re a Great House,” she said.

“Yes.” Professor Weasley blinked in surprise. “I see Mr. Gaunt’s been bringing you up to speed.”

“Aran and Dahlia too. On the way to the Yule…” Aurelia swallowed. “On the way to Highgarden.”

Professor Weasley nodded.

“Yes,” she said. “Mr. Prewett is from a Great House. As much as I would love to expel the boy for his behavior, the politics of the Pureblood families reach even here. I’m sure I already have a dozen or so owls about the punishments I did instate.”

Aurelia glanced at Ominis. His mask was back up, brow furrowed slightly as his mind raced. He didn’t look particularly surprised.

“I understand,” she said.

“Every professor has been notified, as have the Head Boy and Girl and prefects. You will not be harmed and Mr. Prewett will have no further contact with you.”

“Thank you. When can I return to class?”

“When Madam Blainey says you can. Should only be another day or so.”

“At least two.” Madam Blainey finished her exam and started summoning various bottles from a cabinet across the room.

“Your teachers should have your assignments to you by the end of the day,” Professor Weasley said. “But don’t push yourself too hard. If you need to rest, you rest. Do you understand?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Aurelia said. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. I…wish I could do more.”

Aurelia managed a smile this time.

“It’s all right. Um…I think I’d like to lie back down.”

“Of course.” Professor Weasley stood up. “I shall speak with you soon. Noreen.”

“Matilda.” Madam Blainey started handing potions to Aurelia once Professor Weasley was out of the way. “Drink these. Then you need to sleep.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Mr. Gaunt, if you’re staying, I need her to take this one when she wakes next.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Ominis said, setting the potion on the end table. “Thank you.”

Madam Blainey just pressed her lips together again, firmly squeezing Aurelia’s hand, then shuffled off to her office.

“All right, darling?” Ominis asked.

“Prewett’s not getting expelled,” Aurelia said.

“No.”

“You expected this.”

“I did. You don’t sound very surprised either.”

“No.” Exhaustion flooded her body, the edges of her eyes aching beyond even the feel of tears. God. “I’m tired.”

“Then you should rest.” He tucked her in again, a soft hand brushing her cheek. “You can eat when you wake up.”

“Thank you. I’m sorry.”

“None of that now, darling.” He sat back down in his chair and opened his book. “Rest.”

*

Aurelia woke intermittently over the next couple days. She ate when she was hungry, submitted to Madam Blainey’s inspections and Ominis’ potions, and laid in bed. She should’ve felt guilty about it but she didn’t have the energy. All she had the energy for, really, was crying and checking if Ominis was still there.

God. When did she get so pathetic?

“I miss you.”

“Aw. Good thing I’m right here then, isn’t it?”

“Yeah. Good thing.”

Nightmares came and went in those fuzzy spaces between sleep and awake, her brain mixing genuinely awful memories with squids and dancing bears.

“A ghrin a’s a ghealach*
Stiluir sinn
Gu uair ar cliu ‘s ar gloir…”

“No,” she said. “Not that one. Please.”

“All right.” Ominis switched to a French song and she tried to breathe. His voice somehow reached her in those awful moments, dipping into the dark and gently bringing her back. She cried about that too.

Then it was morning again and Madam Blainey cleared her for classes.

“Professor Garlick brought you a fresh uniform,” Ominis said.

“Oh.” Aurelia stood and stretched, head fuzzy from lying in bed so long. “You don’t have to wait for me.”

“I don’t have to do anything, Miss Green. I am choosing to stay with you until I can pass you off to another Slytherin.”

“Is that what the rotation is?”

“We have a reputation and parents like to talk in front of their children.” He turned back to his book. “Just let me know when you’re ready to head down.”

“All right.” She gathered her things and headed into the washroom to get ready for the day. Well. ‘Ready.’ Her mind was still foggy and she moved as if through mud but the shower helped. When she came back out, she felt much more human.

“I’m ready,” she said. Ominis snapped his book shut and stood.

“Time for breakfast then. Do you feel like trying the Great Hall or would you rather take breakfast in your Room?”

“I’ll have to face them sooner or later.”

“Great Hall it is, then. But we go at my pace and you sit with us at Slytherin.”

“Oh, you’re going to insist?”

“Yes.” He tilted his head. “Are you going to argue?”

She smiled.

“I really want to but I’m afraid you’ll just haul me down there like a sack of potatoes.”

“That is always an option.” He offered his arm and she took it with a blush.

“Thank you,” she said quietly. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to cause so much trouble.”

“I do not accept that apology, Miss Green. You are my friend. That means it isn’t trouble.”

Heart squeezing, she laid her head on his shoulder as they walked.

“How old were you?” he asked.

“Ten.”

“I’m sorry.”

“You change your voice. When you sing. The different songs.”

“Ah. Yes, it’s a habit I picked up as a child. I’d try to match the different artists. It’s…less so these days, now that I’m finding my own voice. But I guess I still do it.” A beat. “I’d read to the twins sometimes. Poetry, mostly. Anne said I did the best villains.”

“Mmm.”

“Aurelia!”

She yelped, making him snicker, then three sets of arms wrapped around her.

“Oh my gods, we were so worried,” Poppy said.

“I’m gonna kill him,” Natty said. “I’m gonna ram him through with my horns and throw him to the merpeople!”

“Not if I get to him first,” Garreth said. “The right potion in his pumpkin juice and he’ll be sh*tting bricks for a month.”

“I’m fine,” Aurelia said, hugging them back. “I’m fine. I’m all right.”

“No, but you will be.” Natty let go enough to check her over, which prompted Poppy to do the same, and Aurelia had to submit to them turning her this way and that, the two girls peppering her with questions. One of them even told her to stand on one foot so they could test her balance.

Ominis cleared his throat.

“Ladies, gentleman,” he said, amused. “Breakfast.”

“Then we’re going after Prewett, right?” Natty asked.

“Do you think he’ll get expelled?” Poppy asked.

“No.” Ominis somehow got Aurelia back on his arm and started walking again. “But it’s fine. The adults will handle it.”

“What?! You’re not even going to–”

“We can’t just–”

“The adults will handle it.”

“That may be how you do things in Slytherin,” Garreth said. “But in Gryffindor, we handle our business directly.”

“You will do no such thing,” Ominis said. “He’s the Heir of a Great House–”

“Exactly, and House Weasley is one of Prewett’s bannermen. If anyone can teach that wanker a lesson and keep it in house, it’s me.”

“And what of your sisters? Your aunt? What happens when the Prewetts decide to teach you a lesson?”

Garreth’s eyes flashed and Aurelia suddenly realized how tall he was. Taller than Ominis by at least an inch or two.

“You aren’t seriously suggesting we do nothing,” he said. “The girls, sure, but us? Really?”

“Garreth, think about this–”

“I am thinking–”

“I will not start a war I cannot win!”

Wait. War. Aran mentioned something like that. On the train. The families were so entwined with money and business and marriage agreements that offending one could drag the entire country into it. Ominis had the Greengrasses and Aran and most of Slytherin, if not for his person then for his name. But the power of that name was beginning to shift. Aran and Ominis talked about how other Pureblood Houses were beginning to swing a different direction, public opinion, shifting values, political changes. Prewett was one of the top contenders for the throne, one of a handful of others slowly getting involved in more and more things. There was no telling how many Lesser Houses would side with one or the other, much less what the Great Houses would do. Marriages, careers, lives could be on the line…oh, god…

“–sorry, darling.” Cardamom, leather, wood. Ominis’ hand smoothing her hair back from her face. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to raise my voice. You can come back. We’re done.”

Aurelia blinked back. Poppy and Natty watched her, concerned, and Garreth was rubbing a hand up and down Poppy’s back, his eyes lowered almost in apology. They were official then. That was good.

“There you are.” Ominis drew Aurelia close and started walking again. The others followed. “I would love nothing more than to retaliate directly, Mr. Weasley, but that would just make him the victim. If you truly want to help, keep your house in line.”

Garreth sighed through his nose, his irritation palpable, but he nodded.

“Speak up, precious,” Ominis said. “It’s been a long few days.”

“Yes, Gaunt, I hear you. Gryffindor will behave.”

“Thank you. Now, Mr. Prewett won’t actually let this go. We know this. For Miss Green to be quit of him, I think humiliation would be the most effective route.”

“What’s your master plan then?”

“Miss Green will beat Mr. Prewett at the Defense Against the Dark Arts Tournament. Publicly with hundreds of witnesses in a situation he cannot twist to his own ends.”

Natty blinked.

“Oh.”

“f*ck,” Garreth said. “I love that.”

“Fairly,” Ominis said. “Without interference of any kind. No cheating, no curses, no suspicious potions. We don’t want him to have any possible excuse as to why he lost except that he is a sniveling pile of dogsh*t.”

Poppy let out a surprised giggle and Natty laughed out loud.

“All right,” Natty said. “All right, if that’s what we have to do.” She squeezed Aurelia’s shoulder. “We’ll get you ready. You’ll be a completely unstoppable warrior, a force of nature!”

“What about me?” Poppy asked. Aurelia felt Ominis shift, softening yet still maintaining that thread of Politician.

“You are Miss Green’s dorm-mate, correct? Were you aware of Miss Green’s declining health?”

“Yes.” Poppy shot Aurelia an apologetic look. “But forcing beasts to eat after rescue hurts them more than it helps. They’re traumatized, their nervous systems are still in fight-or-flight, so they won’t be able to do anything until they feel the danger’s gone. That’s why I’ve been trying to go the long way round with blanket nests and hot chocolate and all that.”

Flashes of Poppy raced through Aurelia’s mind, the girl handing her a mug in the Common Room and begging her to help with this delicious tart in class that she ‘just couldn’t finish’ and offering a big, chunky sweater in the library because she’d ‘gotten too hot and didn’t want to put it on the floor.’

sh*t. Oh, she was able to cry again. Dammit.

“It’s all right.” Poppy quickly took her other hand. “It’s all right, I promise. You’ve been trying to survive. It’s not your fault.”

Aurelia made a noise, might’ve been a whimper, and Ominis stopped again to let the girls give her another hug. Garreth didn’t join this one.

“Madam Blainey gave Miss Green instructions,” Ominis said quietly.

“I’ll take care of it,” Poppy said.

“Thank you.” He tilted his head, listening. “We should get to breakfast.”

“Right,” Natty said. “Slytherin? Well, it’s Hufflepuff but I figured…”

“Yes.”

They knew her schedule too? Since when?

Ominis pressed his elbow to his side, squeezing her hand as much as he could since his wand was in his other hand.

“We’ll catch up with you all later,” he said when they reached the Great Hall. The entire room went quiet when they entered and for the first time, she shied away, her footsteps silent on the stone. Ominis wouldn’t let her falter though. He simply walked to the Slytherin table as steady and casual as any other day.

Then whispers and chatter broke out, some students even calling out to her. She tried to block them out, instead focusing on the Slytherin boys standing for their arrival.

“Morning, all,” Ominis said.

“Morning,” they all greeted. Dahlia pulled Aurelia down next to her and caught her in a hug strong enough to crack ribs.

“Eat,” she said. “We’ve a lot to cover today.” She shot her a wry grin. “I’m going to teach you how to survive a scandal.”

Aurelia smiled. Of course.

*

Midnight. The fireplace roared and crackled across the hall from him, faint flashes of light crossing his eyes. He flexed his hands. Any moment now.

Footsteps, slow but not nearly as careful as they should be, then the acrid scent of sweat and cheap cologne. A shadow entered the light.

“Hello, Leander.”

Prewett yelped and spun in a swish of leather and cloth.

“Gaunt! What the hell do you want?”

Ominis tilted his head, feeling the smooth head of his cane in his palm. It was a gift from Narcissus ages ago, the older man saying Ominis would look more dashing. Ominis hated the snobbery of it but he was going for a very particular look tonight and what separated humans from animals was their ability to accessorize.

“This was her story,” he said. “The special girl come to save the day and I, one of a cast of thousands. And I was content with that. But.” He leaned forward on the cane, feeling the faint heat on his face as he emerged from the shadows. “I’m afraid I must interject.”

“And what are you going to do?” He could hear Prewett puffing up his chest. “Make me disappear? For that bitch? She got what was coming to her.”

Ominis inhaled slowly through his nose and forced himself to keep both hands on his cane. It would be so easy. A spell to turn the air in his lungs to ice. A spell to swell his tongue and block his windpipe. Paralyze his diaphragm. Make his blood flow backwards. So many curses that would be undetectable in an autopsy, so many simple incantations.

But while he would never consider himself a good man, he was not a hypocrite.

“I’m going to give you one chance to explain yourself,” he said. “Choose your words carefully.”

Prewett scoffed, fidgeting as if he were straightening his clothes. As if that would make him presentable.

“It’s all horsesh*t,” he said. “No Quidditch, no Hogsmeade, no anything, just because that bitch couldn’t just put out. I was so nice to her when she got here, showed her around, helped her in class, then she started running with you and Sallow and, suddenly, I’m old news. Well, I won’t stand for that kind of disrespect. I offered my house for Christmas, for Merlin’s sake. She brought this on herself.”

Ominis let his lips pull slowly into a smile. Prewett’s breathing faltered for just a second, just enough.

“I imagine you’ve heard that all your life,” Ominis said. “You deserve the world. You’re entitled. You’re owed.”

Prewett took a step back.

“As the son of one Great House to another,” Ominis went on. “I will offer you this gift: you are a fool.* It’s not status that makes a man. It’s not blood or power or self-serving gestures. And you would know that except you have no one that cares about you. So I hope, sincerely, that one day you find someone to mourn you when you are gone.”

He stood smoothly to his feet, bringing himself to his full height in his black suit and billowing black robe.

“You–”

Ominis doused the flames, plunging the hall into darkness, and let his footsteps be the last thing Prewett heard.

Chapter 37

Chapter Text

She was done. She’d figured it out. Which meant she was missing something, some crucial equation or wand movement that would spell catastrophe for her and the school. Nothing in her life was ever this easy. She couldn’t possibly be done.

Rubbing her face, Aurelia looked over the charts spread out on her Hufflepuff bed. It couldn’t be over.

But everything hurt. Thinking hurt. Getting up in the morning hurt. Actually attending class was sometimes more than she could take. It wasn’t even the constant red-and-gold everywhere; she didn’t flinch like she expected she would. She was just…hollow, frozen, like she was just watching a doll of herself move through the day.

She couldn’t be done and she couldn’t figure out what she was missing. f*ck. If she had any shame left, she was sure she’d be throwing up again. As it was, she just packed everything up, warded it, and took her bag down to the Common Room. Per the rules, she was supposed to wait until Poppy or one of the others woke up and walked with her. No one, not the snakes, not the badgers, and not the teachers wanted her to sleep in her Room anymore–not that most of them knew where she went when she disappeared. But if Leander somehow found out about it, he or his lackeys could jump her and it was so isolated, she could be seriously injured or worse before anyone could get to her.

Not that she cared that much. Still, if it kept the noise down, she’d listen.

Around her, Hufflepuff began to stir. Aurelia waited on one of the sofas by the fire until Poppy came down then the two went to the Great Hall.

“Slytherin day, right?” Poppy asked. “There’s Ominis. I’ll see you later?”

“Yes.” Aurelia mustered up a smile for the other girl and headed over to the Slytherin table. The boys all stood and she squeezed in next to Ominis.

“Hello, darling,” he said. “All right?”

She shrugged.

“How are you?” she asked.

“Ready for this music class to be over.”

“It’s not even nine.”

“Uh-huh.”

She smiled, though the action felt a little distant, and ate whatever he put in front of her.

“What is it?” he asked.

“I…” sh*t. What if he said ‘no’? Shouldn’t she be smarter than this? Shouldn’t she be stronger? Better? It was her responsibility, right? “Never mind. I…”

He laid a gentle hand on her wrist, the scent of cardamom mixing with her tea. She breathed it in, letting it settle her stomach.

“Can you look over my work?” she asked. “I…I think I’m done but…I don’t know.”

“Of course, darling. Are you free tomorrow?”

“Yes.”

“Then we’ll meet tomorrow. I rather miss Rum Tum Tugger anyway.”

She smiled, charmed that he chose to say it that way instead of ‘we’ll meet in your Room.’

The next day, Saturday, they ate breakfast then went to her Room where she’d laid out her entire repository project. Ominis took off his black jacket–he only wore black these days–and sat down in one of the upholstered chairs.

“All right,” he said. “Tell me what you have.”

So she did, trying her best to sound organized despite the fog in her head. First, she explained the scapegoat ritual in Leviticus, the Thargelia Festival, and the various other examples she’d found. Then she went into the numbers themselves, detailing everything she knew about the pain magic, covering what she suspected it was in magical terms, how and what Isidora did, and how many people she must’ve ripped apart.

Ominis asked questions as she went, deep, insightful questions that were both frustrating because she hadn’t thought of them and infuriating because dammit if they didn’t give her more ideas as she was talking. Little brat. Still, he was brilliant, which was why she asked him in the first place so if she had to go through her alchemy, transfiguration, and charm work again, class unit by class unit, fine.

She’d rather the work be right than her.

“I must confess,” Ominis said at length. “I’m…severely tempted to have you do that to me.”

“I wouldn’t even if I could.”

“I know. Guess we’ll have to settle on you never making me feel like this.”

“Oh, so you have to go first so I feel it? That’s not fair.”

“No, I mean we’ll just have to find a way to live forever.”

“Well, this is the right class for it.”

“Mmm. Tell me about this mercury idea.”

“Right.” She switched to another set of charts, spells, and equations, explaining the whole scapegoat procedure.

“No,” he said.

“What ‘no’?”

“No, I can hear your brain spinning from here and you are not going to be the sacrifice. That is not an option.”

She sighed, putting her hands on her hips.

“I’m the only one that can manipulate it,” she said. “I’ve done the math a thousand times at this point: an alchemical mannequin won’t work. The pain magic didn’t affect me when we were down there so it stands to reason it wouldn’t affect me that way either. I could absorb it, transmute it–I’ve already run the numbers for that. I can survive.”

“You can’t guarantee that. What happened to the plan to contain it first until you found a way to destroy it?”

“I can’t destroy it. That’s the point. Pain and grief don’t work that way. Every culture throughout history knows that. sh*t, India even has math for it. Yes, ‘contain and destroy’ was the original plan but if I could just get rid of it now through absorption–”

“You are not the Christ.” He stood, frame taut and ready like he’d been with his family. “You do not have to take on the sins of the world.”

“I’m the only one that can See it, I’m the only one that can do anything with it, and too many people have died for it already.”

“Yes, darling. They died. As a consequence of other people’s mistakes, mistakes for which you are not responsible. Or are two years all that they’re lives are worth to you?”

She gaped, feeling very much like the wind just got knocked out of her, then the sheer audacity of what he said sank in and she laughed.

“Goddamn, honey. Just go for my throat, why don’t you?”

He gave a grim smile.

“I didn’t want to trust something this important to Slytherin subtlety,” he said. “I know how tempting it is, darling. I know you feel like you deserve it but you don’t. And if you don’t believe me right now, fine. We’ll take baby steps. You will not ingest, absorb, or otherwise take in any amount of that pain magic because I will not lose anyone else.”

Shaking her head, she laughed again and fluffed her hair.

“Fine,” she said. “Fine, fine. I promise. I won’t eat the pain slime. That sets me back then. Thought I was done but it’s fine.”

“So sorry to disrupt your plans with concerns for your safety.”

“I don’t think you are.”

“I’m not.”

She threw a rude gesture at him.

“So,” she said. “This means I’m really just containing it and securing it for the foreseeable future. I’d be acting as the new Keeper–which I hate–but I’d rather do this and have it with me than leave it here.”

“Especially considering the castle has already been invaded once.”

“Exactly.” She ran a hand through her hair. “I’ve figured out what it is, what it would need to be at the end in order to be stable, and–well, I had the transfer process but we’re pivoting.”

“Does the math change that much going from organic host to physical container?”

“If I’m condensing, which I want to do, yes. Putting it into an organic host meant I only had to control the size and shape until I got it to the host. Then it was the host’s problem. Keeping the size and shape permanent would take different spells, possibly at different times. The material is too…what’s the word you used? Started with a ‘v’?”

“‘Volatile.’ It means it’s unstable and possibly dangerous.”

“That. The very act of moving it makes it feel like a barrel full of oil and the barrel’s just been lit on fire. So if I’m not just dumping it into something organic, how can we make it safe for the time it would take me to make the container, transmute it into a smaller shape, and secure it?”

“Well.” He turned towards her floating models with a sigh. “Every problem has a solution. But not right now. I’m hungry.” He set to rolling down his sleeves and fixing his cuffs. “We’re going to dinner.”

“What about searing it? Like with wounds, we heat it up so fast it can’t react.”

“‘Cauterize.’ ‘Searing’ is for food. And that still leaves the problem of the oil inside the barrel.” He slipped on his jacket. “Come along, darling.”

She caught up with him, hooking her hand in his arm.

“Glacius would be the same thing, wouldn’t it? It would be just an outside layer.”

“Yes. Now take a break. We just spent all day in there. It’s time to let your mind rest.”

“All…” She blinked up at the other students making their way to the Great Hall. “sh*t, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to steal your whole day.”

“You didn’t steal anything. I’m actually very impressed with your work.”

“Really?”

“Really. You’ve a brilliant and creative mind. All that was lacking was your access to education.”

Flushing slightly, she turned her face into his arm.

“Thank you,” she said. “I needed to hear that.”

“Darling.” He turned towards her. “Your intelligence and ability have never been a question.”

She lifted her head.

“It’s your self-destructive tendencies that have me worried,” he said. She chuckled and walked with him to the Hufflepuff table. Once the food appeared on their plates, she realized how hungry she really was.

And worn out–in a good way. It had been so validating when she was presenting her work. She’d felt smart and prepared, answering every question, walking through thoughts that could be backed up three or four ways. She felt good and powerful for the first time in…

“Oh, Gaunt,” someone said. “Sorry to hear about Anne.”

“Thank you,” Ominis said. She saw the tension shoot along his neck, the too-precise way he started eating. God, Aurelia could vomit from all the forced positivity–and this long after the fact too. Poppy understood, Natty too, and neither tried to get Ominis and Aurelia to cheer up about Anne or Prewett or anything else. They just…talked to them like normal, made sure they ate, and checked that they had their school work. Aurelia would have to do something for them as thanks. Make them something. They’d liked their scarves, or seemed to. Maybe something like that.

She took a bite of her steak. So. Positivity and light didn’t fix pain but darkness just made it worse, letting it fester and rot unchecked like those stupid Devil’s Snare plants. A balance then. That tracked with what she’d learned in alchemy. All those cultures emphasized balance and purity.

A yawn stretched her jaws and she tried to hide it behind her wrist. He was right. They needed a break. Too bad she couldn’t get any more of that Dreamless Sleep…

Oh. Oh.

“What?” Ominis asked, turning to her. “What did you just think of?”

“What if we just put it to sleep?” She huddled closer, lowering her voice. “Everything else I thought of was affecting the nature of it, right? But sleeping is really just…pausing it.”

“Hmm.” He tilted his head. “Like a form of stasis charm.”

“Right. Do you think it could work?”

“I think it’s worth looking into. So long as you find an alternate power source. I don’t want you vomiting blood again.”

“Oh, it was one time.”

“One time too many.”

She rolled her eyes.

“There are plenty of Ancient Magic spots all over the Highlands. I’m not sure how they’ll help me since I haven’t found any here in the school but maybe I could…charge up?”

“Look into leylines.”

“What are leylines?”

He blinked then sighed.

“They’re something we covered in a year you weren’t here,” he said.

“Hey.” Something squirmed in her gut. “Resources, remember?”

“I’m not frustrated with you, darling. I just have opinions about some of the staff.” He cleared his throat. “Leylines are currents of energy that cover the earth like veins. Some are stronger than others, some cross each other, some are affected by time of day or season of the year. Generally, the places they cross are so magically significant that even muggles can feel it.”

“The Henges.”

He nodded.

“Many of the Great Houses are built on specific cross-points. It wouldn’t surprise me at all if Hogwarts was built on a nexus, of sorts. Like the mouth of a river splitting into smaller streams.”

“Mmm.” Her mind wandered to the different henges she’d seen and she smiled at the memory of the mooncalves dancing. Oh, but that was a specific full moon, wasn’t it?

“You said some were affected by time?” she asked.

“Yes. It’s a little muddled what came first, that knowledge or the rituals themselves but it’s understood to be fact regardless.”

Which meant it might not be, or might be something more complicated–like everything else in her life.

“So if I were to run the numbers with the power of a leyline, I’d need to test the leyline’s strength at certain times.” She tapped her fork on her plate. “Like, say, the equinox? Balance of light and dark and all that? That stability should translate and give me more time, shouldn’t it?”

He paused in taking a drink of his pumpkin juice.

“You’re going Old School then,” he said.

“I think it would be silly not to take as much help as I can get. Rakham made it sound like she was working against nature itself so who better than nature to ask?”

“Mmm.”

“What?”

He finished his drink then took a deliberate bite of a roasted carrot.

“I need to ask you something,” he said, not facing her. “And this is not a comment on your intelligence, drive, or sense of responsibility.”

“All right.” She followed his lead, focusing on her food instead of him.

“Have you considered telling the professors?”

Her stomach dropped.

“Explain.”

His leg tensed next to her; he must’ve heard the shift in her voice.

“Secrets are part of why this got so out of control in the first place,” he said. “Obviously, not everyone needs to know. Some people are morons. But if their combined experience could help…”

She tightened her grip on her fork.

“I can’t. I’m sorry. I promised.”

He nodded.

“All right. I just wanted to say it out loud.”

“Let the record show?”

He smirked.

“Let the record show.”

Chapter 38

Chapter Text

It was strange, really. She’d only known these people a year yet she already had their voices in her head. She could imagine Poppy’s happy squeal when a bird flew overhead and how fast she’d chatter about it. She could hear Natty’s smug little hum when one of the girls got one over on the boys. She could picture Lenora’s sneer whenever someone got a question wrong.

She could feel His deep chuckle as He leaned in to make a joke. If He wasn’t talking sh*t in Defense, He was acting out little dramas with the Chinese Chompers when He got bored in Herbology. Seeing Him every day had become a bright spot for her. Everyone else needed something, needed protecting while they got that something, but when she went out with Him, it was always with a sigh of relief. Here, at least, was someone who could handle themselves. She didn’t have to explain everything down to the smallest detail. She didn’t have to repeat how dangerous the situation could be and how important it was to be smart. She didn’t have to fight for two people.

Of course, He’d make comments then too, dry, sarcastic quips that kept her energy up during a fight, cheesy jokes that made her throw spider guts at Him afterward. It was fun. Somehow, He made life or death situations fun. But she’d only known Him a few months at that point. How could He have taken up so much space so quickly? Did other people deal with that? Ominis, certainly, but she couldn’t remember Him talking to anyone else nearly as–

“Oh my god, He was flirting with me.”

Ominis burst out laughing and his head dropped to the table.

“Shhh!”

“Something you want to share with the class, Mr. Gaunt?” Professor Sharp asked.

“Oh my god,” she muttered, covering her face. “Oh my god, shut up!”

Snorting, Ominis sat up, wiping his eyes.

“Apologies, sir,” he said. “Miss Green just realized boys are idiots.”

“Oh.”

Aurelia peeked through her fingers to see Professor Sharp blink at her.

“I could’ve told you that.”

She could throw herself down the stairs. They weren’t that high.

“Yes, sir,” she said.

“Mind you don’t burn the stock.”

“Yes, sir.”

He went back to his paperwork and she punched Ominis in the arm.

“Shut up.”

“Oh my god.” Giggling, he turned his face up and she could’ve strangled him for the literal tears running down his face. “That made my week.”

“No sympathy, huh?”

“What sympathy? Sebastian was one of the single most obvious boys in this school. Did you really not notice?”

“No! Why would I? I don’t have any experience with that. I still don’t know why Garreth asked me to the Halloween Ball.”

“Well, why don’t we ask him?”

“What?! No!”

Ominis turned around.

“Weasley,” he called. “Why’d you ask Green to the Ball?”

“Because she’s cute,” Garreth said. “Obviously.”

Aurelia raised her hand.

“Sir, permission to swallow all the stingers in the cabinet?”

“Denied,” Professor Sharp said, not looking up. “There’d be an inquiry.”

She groaned, to which Ominis just snickered and bumped her shoulder.

“You’re an ass,” she said. He smiled back, lighter than he’d been in months. Her lips twitched.

“Inbred little sh*t.”

He laughed and, this time, she couldn’t help but laugh with him.

“You can’t tell anyone,” she said. “Shut up. You promise?”

“For now.”

She giggled into her hands.

“I hate you.”

*

Potions took an exhaustively long time to end, during which Aurelia imagined a full thirty ways to murder Ominis, most involving grabbing him and letting them both fall from very high onto something very sharp. True to his word, though, he didn’t bring it up again. He just looked really, really amused.

She heaved a sigh of relief when they finished cleaning up.

“Oh, we’re so dramatic,” Ominis said. “You know I adore you.”

She hit him with her bag as she swung it onto her shoulder, making him laugh.

“All right, all right,” he said. “Have lunch with me? I promise I won’t tell anyone.”

“Fine.” She fell in step with him as they all headed out. The halls were loud and crowded and somehow, the ringing in her ears was even louder. She sighed.

“Aurelia.”

“I’m not pretty.”

“Now, I know for a fact that’s not true.”

Growling, she grabbed his hand and brought it up to the right side of her face. Most days she didn’t notice the scar. Most days, she didn’t even remember. But sometimes, when she was feeling particularly hateful, she’d trace the puckered flesh that stretched over her brow and across her cheek like thin, spindly fingers and wonder how the hell anyone could look her in the eye.

Now Ominis traced it, fingertips feather-light on her skin before he cupped her cheek.

“Darling,” he said, a gentle smile on his lips. “That doesn’t matter. And if it ever does, they’re not with your time and I’ll make them go away.”

She huffed, leaning into his hand for a second, then drew him down the hall.

“Thought we weren’t going to use all that money and influence for evil,” she said.

“This isn’t about ‘good’ and ‘evil.’”

“No? What is it about?”

“Pragmatism. Anyone that blind and that stupid can’t be allowed to reproduce. It’s a danger to our species as a whole.” He grinned. “Science.”

“Well, can’t argue with that.”

They made it to the Slytherin table and sat down near the end.

“Green,” Benedict greeted. “Gaunt. How’s your day been?”

“All right,” Aurelia said. “So this little sh*t–”

Ominis laughed, drawing the attention of at least half the table.

“I want it on the record,” he said through the giggles. “That I did not instigate this, I did not bring it up, I didn’t do anything to break my word. This is all you.”

“Quiet, you.” She shoved his face away and turned to Benedict. “So we’re in Potions.”

*

She woke to gentle hands lifting her head.

“Just me, darling.” Those hands released her and suit-wool scented with sandalwood and cardamom met her cheek. Ominis. Oh. She must be lying on his leg. “How are you feeling?”

“Fine.”

“Mmm.” He started stroking her hair, long fingers brushing her neck. “I’m proud of you. For asking for help. I know it was difficult for you, even if it’s me.”

She shrugged. She didn’t want to think about how it might’ve been a betrayal. Hell, just telling him about last year was probably a betrayal but she couldn’t…It was so heavy.

“I also wanted to apologize,” he said. “I really thought you knew. Or maybe I’m just used to people knowing. I never thought to reassure you.”

“Why would you?” She pulled her blanket up a little higher, tucking her fist under her chin. The Room grew a little warmer in response. “You don’t owe me an explanation anyway. It’s your business.”

“I should’ve known something was wrong. Your nightmares, your weight. I thought it was just stress…” His voice grew bleak, haunted. “And that diagnostic…I’m sorry, darling. I’m so sorry. I should’ve asked. I should’ve checked on you.”

“You know I wouldn’t have told you.”

“Mmm.” His hand came to rest on her neck. “Darling, I need to ask you something and I need you to be completely honest. All right?”

Her eyes drifted shut.

“All right.”

“Have I been hurting you?”

She frowned.

“No. How would you be hurting me?”

“The way we interact, how tactile we are, how we speak to each other. If you thought I was interested–god, and we went on that date to Hogsmeade…”

She bit her tongue, felt his hand yank away like he’d been burned.

“No!” She shot up, grabbing for him. sh*tsh*tsh*tsh*t. “No, I didn’t mean–It’s not–Please, I’m sorry–”

He pulled her to his chest, arms tight around her. f*ck, she couldn’t draw a full breath and she’d ruined everything again, dammit, why couldn’t she just–

“Stop.”

She froze, straining for…anything. He brought one hand up to cradle the back of her head and, for a long moment, he just held her. Slowly, her thoughts stopped spinning and she was able to feel his warmth through the shivers that still raced down her back.

“I am not going to leave you,” he said. “You are important to me. You have such a kind, good heart and the last thing I want to do is break it. That’s all. Do you understand?”

She took a wet breath, tasted cardamom and cotton, and nodded.

“I want you to think about this,” he said. “Actually think about it. If you need our dynamic to change, it will change. That does not mean we’re not friends. That does not mean we’re strangers. It means I don’t want to break your heart. All right?”

She nodded again. Her chest still shook though, her hands, her gut. God, the very thought of losing him too, of driving him away…

But it did hurt, in its own way, learning he preferred men. It was just a thought, a fleeting wisp of an idea now that her life had slowed enough for such things, but it was a nice thought all the same. Remembering his dances with Anne at the Christmas Ball was both heartwarming and painful, knowing she’d never dance with him like that. Or…well. She knew he and Anne didn’t have that kind of relationship. It was just a thought.

Magic rippled across her skin and she turned to see the Room rearranging itself to build a polished dance floor.

“Oh my god.” She turned back into his chest. “This f*cking room.”

“What? What changed?”

“It’s a dance floor.”

“Oh?” A smile in his voice now. “And what did you think of that we need a dance floor?”

She bit her tongue, shoulders tensing. He rubbed a hand up and down her back.

“Just…wish I could’ve danced with you and Anne at the Yule Ball.”

“Oh.” His shoulders dropped, just slightly, and that panic fluttered in her gut that she might’ve disappointed him. Again. “Well, we’ll just have to make up for it, won’t we?”

He drew her onto the floor and took her in his arms.

“Now,” he said. “What shall we dance to?”

“I don’t think I have the energy for those reels.”

“No, these aren’t the right shoes for that anyway.” He licked his lips. “I think I have something.”

He started to sing.

“I don’t know if you can see*
The changes that have come over me
In these last few days I’ve been afraid
That I might drift away…”

He led her in a simple box step, careful of her bare toes, and she had the silly thought that she should just stand on top of his feet. Matthew let her do that. Didn’t he? Or was that John?

She couldn’t remember.

“I’ve been telling old stories
Singing songs
That make me think about where I’ve come from
That’s the reason why I seem so far away today…”

Her eyes began to sting and she stepped closer. Professor Fig would’ve liked this. Maybe something faster, more lively. Did he dance with Miriam? He must’ve. He was so sweet and Miriam sounded like such a firecracker.

And Him. That boy would’ve twirled her around whether it matched the beat or not.

She rested her cheek on his shoulder.

“Let me tell you that I love you
That I think about you all the time
Caledonia, you’re calling me
Now I’m going home
But if I should become a stranger
Know that it would make me more than sad
Caledonia’s been everything I’ve ever had…”

She was crying now. She didn’t try to hold in the tears, she didn’t try to swallow the sobs, she didn’t try to hold up her head. She just cried. For the mother she barely remembered, for the father that didn’t want them, for the old woman that didn’t know what to do with her, for the church.

John Campbell.

Matthew O’ Donahue.

Eleazar Fig.

Miriam Fig

Lodgok.

Natty and her parents.

Poppy, her parents, her grandmother.

“Now I have moved and I’ve kept on moving
Proved the points that I needed proving
Lost the friends that I needed losing
Found others on the way…”

She cried for herself and the bullsh*t she’d gone through, every time she nearly died, every meal she had to skip, every blow she had to take. She cried for Him and Anne and Solomon and the Greengrass family that could only stand by and watch. She cried for Ominis.

“I have kissed the fellows and left them crying
Stolen dreams, yes, there’s no denying
I have traveled hard, sometimes with conscience flying
Somewhere with the wind…”

She even cried for the little fantasy of whatever might have been with Him or Ominis or, hell, even Garreth. Was this just going to be her life? Was this all there was? Loss and pain and grief. She wasn’t strong enough for all of this. She just…she couldn’t…

Ominis looped her arms around his neck and settled his around her waist.

“Let me tell you that I love you
That I think about you all the time
Caledonia, you’re calling me
Now I’m going home
But if I should become a stranger
Know that it would make me more than sad
Caledonia’s been everything I’ve ever had…”

Just swaying now, Aurelia sniffling into his shirt. His voice, smooth and deep, curled around them like gentle spirals of incense. And he was so strong. Her heart twisted. He’d known why she was scared earlier which meant he must’ve felt that same desperate terror of being alone, just like he said he knew how awful it got in the dark. And she was just adding more weight to all of that.

f*ck.

“Now I’m sitting here before the fire
The empty room, the forest choir
The flames have cooled, don’t get any higher
They’ve withered, now they’ve gone
But I’m steady thinking, my way is clear
And I know what I will do tomorrow
When hands have shaken, the kisses float
Then I will disappear…”

She gathered what strength she had left and lifted her head, an apology on her tongue. He cradled her face, wiping away her tears.

“Let me tell you that I love you
That I think about you all the time
Caledonia, you’re calling me
Now I’m going home…”

He smiled, his own eyes wet and pale.

“But if I should become a stranger
Know that it would make me more than sad
Caledonia’s been everything I’ve ever had.”

She closed her eyes, weaving slightly on her feet.

“I know, sweet girl.” He scooped her up bridal-style and carried her back to the daybed she’d nested in earlier. “But it’s all right to grieve. You’re no less remarkable for it.”

She pawed at his sleeve as he set her down.

“Not…your job…”

“You are welcome to try and stop me.” Sure hands bundled her in a quilt, tucking it in tight against her back and toes. “But I am a stubborn son of a bitch so I’m afraid you’ll lose and lose spectacularly.”

She managed a weak glare over the top of the quilt and a fussy ‘mrrph.’ He smiled.

“Sleep. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

Chapter 39

Chapter Text

Aurelia saw Easter break as a chance to get her head back on straight. Between the funeral, the fallout, the sh*t with Leander, and the repository, she felt like an absolute mess. The first few days were spent going through every single subject, planning out the rest of the term, and going through her assignments. Her frenetic pace in the winter had paid off, much as she hated having to do it. At least she hadn’t fallen behind. Now she could focus on her work as it came and give it her full attention.

Ominis studied with her, the two of them eating breakfast together then either splitting up–him to the library, her to her Room–or both of them going to her Room and working in companionable silence until someone got hungry. She was eternally grateful that the man understood how to be quiet, especially after all of the noise of the last couple months. The others cared about her; she knew that and loved them for it. But it had gotten so loud and so claustrophobic that just sitting at a desk with Ominis behind her, neither of them saying a thing, was enough to make her cry.

And wasn’t that annoying. Ever since that breakdown in the greenhouse, it felt like her emotions were constantly boiling just under the surface. It took nothing to get her crying or angry or depressed. She really needed to find something to give or do for Ominis. The man was an absolute saint putting up with her for so long.

Matthew would’ve liked him.

She froze.

“Darling?”

Aurelia cleared her throat.

“I’m fine,” she said.

“Are you?”

Damn him and his supernatural perception. Sighing, she put her quill back in its pot and leaned back, rubbing her face.

“Easter’s coming up,” she said. “Do wizards celebrate Easter?”

“Not as you would know it, I’m sure.” He shifted in his chair, probably turning to face her. “Every culture has a Spring or beginning-of-the-planting-season celebration. It’s for fertility. Ours is Beltane. Here is Beltane, I should say.”

“When’s that?”

“The first of May, usually. First week.”

“Mmm.”

“Why? How do muggles celebrate Easter? Or, better yet, what is Easter? I’ve always heard the term in regards to spring break but no one’s really explained it to me.”

She smiled and fluffed her hair as she thought.

“It’s supposed to be the day Jesus Christ rose from the dead.”

A beat.

“All right,” he said. “I’m going to need more context than that.”

She laughed.

“God made the world,” she said. “God made people, people went to sh*t, God made rules that included animal sacrifice so they could be forgiven their sh*t and go to Heaven–”

“There’s so much to unpack in just that sentence.”

Grinning, she turned around, folding her arms on the back of the chair.

“At some point,” she said. “Not sure why or when but at some point, God said he was going to send a Messiah that would be a one-and-done sacrifice. Two thousand years ago, he sent his son, Jesus, to be born of a virgin girl–That’s what we call ‘Christmas.’”

To his credit, Ominis didn’t say anything rude but his face said quite a few things. He rubbed his eyes.

“Go on,” he said. Her grin widened.

“Well, Jesus was perfect. He never did anything wrong–which fulfilled some qualification for the sacrifice. He also taught people to love each other and take care of the poor and the authorities didn’t like that he was getting so popular so they put him to death. That’s Good Friday; he was crucified. Three days later, he rose from the dead, therefore proving that he was indeed the Son of God and we would never need a sacrifice again. We just have to ask for forgiveness and he would give it and then we’d be let into Heaven.”

He blinked in her direction a few times then nodded and walked over to the tea station against the wall. She laughed again, moving to flop down on the couch.

“Darling,” he said.

“Yes, dear.”

“I understand the concept of Jesus in theory. Enough to shut down your plan to absorb the pain magic anyway. But two thousand years ago would be the Roman Empire and I have studied the Roman Empire. Extensively. They didn’t execute people for being ‘popular.’ They executed people for being dangerous to the order of things, which means your Jesus was a rebel of some kind, or a criminal, at the very least.

“And ‘Christ’ sounds like it comes from the Greek ‘Christos,’ which means ‘anointed.’ That’s not a title they give to just anyone. Furthermore, there is no such name as ‘Jesus’ from that time period. There is only ‘Yeshua,’ which in English would be more closely translated to ‘Joshua.’”

She smiled, watching him brew their tea with sure, practiced movements.

“And now you’re telling me,” he said. “That the Muggle Church that worships this peasant-criminal-that-is-also-somehow-a-god mixed Israeli, Greek, and Roman history and co-opted tribal holidays on the other side of the world with their rituals then vilified the very people that taught them those rituals. And this is the same Church that teaches people like me are going to Hell for not following ‘the Way’ and preferring the wrong parts.”

“I thought you didn’t know anything about this.”

He brought the tea service over to the coffee table and sat down next to her, fixing their tea and handing her a cup in that same precise way.

“I want you to know I mean no disrespect to you,” he said. “But what the f*ck?”

She laughed, nearly spilling her tea.

“Someday, I’ll let you read the whole story,” she said. “There’s even a dragon that knocks the stars out of the sky.”

“Really.”

“And a talking donkey. Quite rude, actually. Bit of an ass.”

He snorted into his tea.

“That was terrible.”

“You still laughed.”

“Only out of pity.” Even blind, his eyes danced when he smiled. “What did you do for Easter?”

“Well, church was mandatory so we got dressed up in our best clothes and sat in a hard, wooden pew for several hours, listened to an old man talk about sin and redemption, sang some songs, and went home and ate ham.” Her lips curved. “John always insisted on ham, even though it was expensive. Mrs. Rhoades even came over. One of the few times I ever saw her somewhat happy.”

She took a sip of her tea, watching the ripples bounce against the curve of the cup. Her throat tightened and she tried to swallow through it.

“I think you would’ve liked them,” she said, her voice a little hoarse. “John loved history. He was always trekking through the hills, finding some ancient site under a tree somewhere that had some great battle. Mattie liked history too but he came from the other side, art, music. They’d get into debates all the time over which was more accurate.”

“Sounds like a fun evening.” He took a sip of his tea. “Do you want to go?”

“Do I want to go where?”

“To church. For Easter.”

“Oh.” She took another sip of tea, eyes burning a little. “No. I…I haven’t had much use for church since…”

“Oh, we wouldn’t be going for the doctrine. The implications of such absolute blanket forgiveness terrifies me and the historical inconsistencies make my eye twitch. I just thought if it helped you feel a little closer to them…” He shrugged. “It’s your choice. If you want to go, we will.”

“I can’t ask you to do that.”

“You’re not, darling. I’m offering.”

She squeezed his wrist then sat back and just focused on sipping her tea. The warmth was nice, little threads of cozy seeping through her chest to her belly. He always made the tea perfectly; she could never replicate it, even when he showed her how.

“Well,” he said, draining his cup. “I think I’m going back to my room to take a nap. Are you all right here?”

“Hmm? Oh, yes, I’m fine. Once I’m done with this draft, I’m going to take a break too.”

“All right. I’ll catch you at dinner then.”

“Dinner.”

He held out his hand and she squeezed it then he was gone and it was just her and the randomly floating books flapping somewhere near the ceiling. Yes, John would’ve loved Ominis, drawing him into discussions about philosophy and history, and Mattie would’ve countered with poetry and Ominis would’ve countered that with something in perfectly executed French and they both would’ve fallen all over him.

“Bring me the night
Send out the stars…” She kept humming as she put away the tea service and got back to work.

*

“I want to go to church,” she said at dinner.

“Then we shall go to church,” Ominis said. “Did you want to go to any church in particular?”

“London would probably be the easiest, what with Diagon Alley right there.” She stole a roll off his plate. “Could we go to Westminster Abbey? I’ve always wanted to. Do you know it?”

He smiled.

“I know Westminster Abbey. Westminster Abbey is as old as the Malfoys, and just as magical.”

“Really?”

“Oh, yes. Why do you think so many monarchs have been crowned and buried there?”

“It’s holy ground.”

“Yes, darling, but what do you think makes it holy ground?” He casually smacked her hand away when she tried to steal another roll. “What’s the dress code?”

“Easter and Christmas are the two fanciest times of the year so…damn, how do I translate this into Pureblood? Not black or white tie. Um, dinner at Highgarden?”

“That’s it? For one of your high holy days?”

“Well, I suppose if you want to show off, you could do dinner with the Rosiers. It is Westminster, after all.”

He blinked.

“You want to show off,” she said.

“Would that embarrass you?”

“No, but it might get you a lot of attention and you won’t be able to use your wand.”

“I’ll manage. Do you have something suitable or do we need to go shopping?”

“I can…” She frowned, mentally running through her wardrobe. “None of my black dresses are…current.”

“Why do you need to wear black?”

“Because you are?”

“Oh.” He took a bite of his roast. “Darling, that’s a personal choice. You don’t have to wear mourning clothes just because I am.”

“But–”

He held up his hand.

“I couldn’t do much for her when she was alive,” he said. “So my wearing black for a while makes me feel marginally better about that. You, however, have done more than enough. If you’d like to wear black to church, feel free, but you are not obligated. Wear something that makes you feel pretty.”

“I don’t think church is supposed to make you feel pretty.” She stabbed a potato. “Although, you’d never know it for how most of the women dress. All right, if you’re sure.”

“I’m sure.”

“All right. I…Thank you, Ominis. I mean it.”

“You’re very welcome, darling. Now, tell me about the service itself. Do you really drink human blood?”

“Yes.”

*

Aurelia intended to wear her navy dress, a structured, corseted, buttoned-up-to-her-neck piece that made her look every inch the modern lady. But the morning of Easter Sunday, she looked at the dress and it just…made her skin crawl. Yes, it was well made and yes, it was gorgeous with its silk and tiny bows along the skirt. It just didn’t feel right.

“Oh, what fresh hell is this?” Matthew hated how perfect everyone had to be in public.

“Can you even breathe in that? This isn’t safe. Tell me you don’t lace it up all the way.” John would get started on the trending styles, upbraiding whatever politician or noble that demanded such unrealistic forms.

“It’s not natural!” Matthew would cry, both in agreement and to keep John going. The Brit was usually so quiet that to get him that animated about anything was its own entertainment.

She rubbed her chest, pressing into the ache. No. It wasn’t natural. And while she wanted to fit in enough not to cause a scene, she wasn’t part of that world anymore. She didn’t want to pretend.

Nodding, she went back into her wardrobe and found a mint green dress of soft damask that she remembered insisting on when Dahlia helped her a hundred years ago. The bodice, while fitted, had a modest, square neckline edged in tiny pearls. The sleeves bloused slightly before coming back to close around her wrist with tiny pearl buttons along the cuffs. The skirt was a-line, barely gathered to echo the bustles of ten, twenty years ago. Leaves and vines wove through the fabric itself, invisible unless the light hit just right, and pearl buttons ran the length of her spine.

She’d never worn it, never even put on the little mint fascinator with satin ribbon and white, pearl-centered silk flowers. Today seemed like a good time for it then. A wave of her wand adjusted the corset and fastened the buttons. Another wave had her long, thick hair pulled up into a simple French twist then she added sheer white gloves with pearl buttons, her beloved white boots, and her hat. Pulling the veil netting over her face felt…strange. Like suddenly she was an adult now or a woman from one of her books.

“Well. Here goes nothing.”

Ominis met her in the Entrance Hall, looking the perfect gentleman swathed all in black. She smiled as she approached, taking in the shiny boots and tailored trousers, the brocade waistcoat, silk shirt, and knee-length, fine wool coat. A top hat was tucked under one arm and in the other gloved hand, he held a proper swagger stick.

“Hello, darling,” he said. “Ready to go?”

“I think so. Is this fancy enough for you?”

“For me?” He held out his hand and she stepped into a hug. His hand gently swept across her shoulders, feeling the fabric. “You’re lovely. Am I appropriate for you?”

“You’re perfect. You’re sure about this?”

“I’m sure.” He offered his arm. “Come. Services will start soon.”

A floo to Diagon Alley then a short carriage ride to Westminster Abbey–when the hell did he arrange that? She didn’t have time to ask as the crowd of finely dressed men, women, and children flowed into the church. Aurelia walked with her arm through Ominis’ and started looking for empty seats.

Ominis hummed as he took off his hat.

“All right?” she asked.

“Noticing the architecture. The acoustics in here are impressive.” A beat. “How it’s built to reflect and bolster sound.”

“Thank you.” sh*t. All the seats up front were taken by people who wanted to be seen–no, thank you–but the seats in the back were already full of people who wanted to make quick exits. “All right, I think I see something. Trust me?”

“Of course.”

She squeezed his arm then walked a little quicker to claim a couple seats in one of the middle pews. He giggled as she all but put him in the seat then plopped down next to him with a sigh.

“Well done,” he said. “We only ran over three children and a dog.”

“Four children; the last one was just ugly.”

He snorted. Up ahead, the organ started playing and he tilted his head.

“How bad is it?” she asked.

“Not very.” He winced, making her grin. “I can be good.”

“Really? Because I was hoping for some snarky, under-the-breath commentary to keep me going.”

“Oh, so that’s why you brought me.” He smirked towards her. “The truth comes out.”

“Please? You’re the foundation of sass and bullsh*t I’ve built my life on; you can’t let me down now.”

They both giggled, trying not to be too loud, and she put her hand, palm up, on his leg. He smiled and laced their fingers.

“At your service, darling. Oh, and here.” He reached into his coat and pulled out a brand new, leatherbound Bible. “So you can follow along.”

“You’re amazing.”

“I know.”

*

True to his word, Ominis kept her engaged. It wasn’t always commentary, though his comments did threaten to choke her every now and then. More than that, it was the little noises he made, the expressions he didn’t really try to hide. By now, she could even read the way his body tensed next to her. That line from the pastor annoyed him. That one made him seriously question how smart the other man was. That one made him want to get very posh and pedantic for a very long time but he was going to behave and not do anything but flex his hand on his cane because he was a good friend and didn’t want to embarrass her.

Then the songs got more…familiar. She’d been all right at first, focusing more on remembering the words and watching Ominis’ reactions to the off-tune old people around them. But the longer the service went on, the more she remembered other sermons, other voices.

“Lord save us, do you see that woman’s hat? Did she kill the entire chicken for those feathers?”

“I will stuff you in the organ and people will thank me.”

“Yes, they would. At least then it would have some actual music in it.”

“Be quiet, you two!”

“A toddler dressed as a goose is singing. You need quiet when a goose is singing?”

In a much smaller church full of much bigger people, little Aurelia sat between Mrs. Rhoades and Matthew, trying and failing not to giggle as he and John gave each other–and everyone else–sass. The people around them weren’t much better, the butcher’s family and Mr. Coggins and his wife stifling their own laughter. Everyone always missed them when they weren’t there, which, of course, made Matthew preen like Mrs. Johnson’s prized ox.

“When we get home,” Matthew whispered to her. “Remind me: I’ve some treats hiding in the piano. We can eat them before supper.”

Aurelia’s eyes widened. Sweets before supper? That was allowed? Matthew smiled, dark eyes sparkling, and winked.

“But don’t tell John, all right?”

“John is right here,” John said.

“Yes, dear, and we’re all very proud.”

John just rolled his eyes and stretched his arm across the back of the pew. Aurelia didn’t miss the way he stroked Matthew’s shoulder with his thumb. She smiled.

“Are you all right, dear?”

She blinked, feeling tears roll down her cheeks and a hand touch her shoulder. Oh. The older woman next to her.

“Sorry,” Aurelia muttered. “I…”

“Forgive us,” Ominis said quietly, tucking his handkerchief into her hand. “She lost her parents a few years ago. Holidays are still difficult.”

“Oh, child.” The older woman squeezed Aurelia’s other hand. “You’ll see them again when the Lord calls you up. Here, you can share my blanket. Colder than a witch’s tit in here.”

Ominis choked but Aurelia just offered a small smile and spread the blanket over her lap.

A few more songs and the benediction and it was over. They both thanked the older woman, Aurelia submitting (hopefully) graciously to a hug, then sat back down.

“The crowd will thin out soon,” Aurelia said.

“I’m in no rush,” Ominis said. “Are you all right?”

“No. How’d you like your first Anglican church service?”

“It was…enlightening.” He tilted his head. “Why do I hear people moving away from the doors?”

“Hmm?” She looked around then winced. “There are candles against the far wall for people to light. It’s…a way to pray for the dead.”

“So they do that too.” He drummed his fingers on the head of his cane. She still didn’t know what the shape was. “Would you like to?”

“Oh. No, it’s all right.”

“Then I want you to help me light one for Anne.”

She shot him a look.

“Smooth,” she said.

“Really? I was going for ‘blatantly obvious.’”

She pinched his side, making him grin and get to his feet.

“Come on,” he said. “Walk with me.”

Groaning to make a show of it, she took his arm and headed over to a section that still had a few unlit candles. A woman in front of them finished and passed back the long match.

“Thank you,” Aurelia said. “All right. I’ll guide you.” She slipped the match into his hand and helped him light one of the small tea candles.

“Two, please,” he said. “For Solomon.”

Nodding, she lit another candle.

“Thank you, darling.” He handed her the match and slipped an arm around her waist. Waiting, she knew. Her vision blurred again.

“Bring me the night
Send out the stars
Cuz when I’m dreaming you don’t seem so far…”

“What is that?” he asked. “You’ve sung it before.”

“Matthew wrote it. For John. John loved it but was too shy to ask him to sing it so he’d have me ask instead. ‘Relli wants to hear your song again.’ Mattie knew, of course, but he let it go most of the time.”

“Mmm. It’s pretty.”

“It’s beautiful.

Darken the sky and light up the moon
Please, bring it soon…”

Her voice faltered.

“sh*t.”

“What?”

“I…I don’t remember the second verse.” She nearly dropped the match. “Ominis–”

“It’s all right.” He tightened his grip, stepping closer. “It’s all right. You’ll remember. Probably at a really inopportune time like in the middle of Charms when Duncan’s squawking in the corner.”

He squeezed her waist.

“It doesn’t mean you didn’t love them.”

Swallowing, she hastily wiped her eyes, lit two tea lights, and passed the match to the next person. They walked outside in silence, his arm still firmly–and scandalously–around her waist. Just the thought of the hypocrites around them clutching their pearls at this new, handsome, rich man and the way he fawned over little old her made her grin.

“What?” he asked.

“I think I know how Dahlia feels showing Aran off at public events.”

“Oh, I see, I’m just a pretty toy to you, aren’t I?” He turned his nose in the air and she laughed, hugging his waist under his coat.

“Thank you,” she said. “I needed this. You were right.”

“Someday you’ll realize I’m always right.”

“I don’t know about that.”

He flicked the back of her hat.

“Shall we go to lunch then?” he asked.

“Think we’re a bit overdressed for the Leaky.”

“I wouldn’t trust that dress on those benches anyway. Actually, I was thinking Brickette’s.”

“Ooh, fancy.”

They made it back to their carriage where he handed her up then climbed in and shut the door.

“Now,” she said. “Questions, comments, concerns?”

“Oh, so many.”

“You realize I’m not ordained. I’m actually surprised I could cross the threshold of the church without bursting into flames.”

He grinned.

“Somewhat related,” he said. “I do have a serious comment.”

“Oh?”

He flexed his hands on the head of his cane.

“You’ve read Ortus?” he asked.

“I have. A couple times.” She tilted her head, noting the pensive furrow in his brow, the slight tension in the corners of his mouth. “Are you thinking about declaring?”

“I…think I would like to, yes. I never wanted to before. My family…I don’t mind not having those traditions. But Anne never got to and I think…I think I’d at least like to do the test.”

“All right.” She bit her lip. “Would it be terribly inappropriate if I did too? I know it’s usually just Purebloods but I don’t–all that–” She gestured vaguely back towards the church. “It just doesn’t resonate anymore, you know? Unless you think I’m copying you; I don’t want you to feel like I’m trying to steal anything.”

“You’re not stealing anything, darling. And no, I don’t think it would be inappropriate at all. Magic doesn’t belong to just Purebloods any more than God belongs only to the clergy.”

“The book says we need witnesses.”

“I have some ideas. But.” He tapped his cane on the floor. “Let’s talk about how a church that expensive could possibly justify that sewer water and call it ‘wine.’”

Chapter 40

Chapter Text

It had been almost two months since Leander. Two months since she had her breakdown in the greenhouse, two months since she’d been added to the Slytherin escort rotation, two months since everything from butterflies to a stubbed toe made her cry. Her work with the repository had solidified with this new addition of leylines. There was progress, numbers she could point to, spells and charts from nearly every class that she’d used in possibly insane ways.

But she was so tired. She’d promised Professor Fig to keep it secret just as she’d promised the Keepers. Four men and a woman that had left her, abandoned her. She was sixteen. Why the hell was she doing this? Why was she running herself into the ground like this? She missed John and Matthew. She missed when life was simple and predictable. She missed adults she could count on. She missed being safe.

Across the Great Hall, Ominis sat between Benedict and Imelda, smiling at some joke and enjoying his dinner. It warmed Aurelia’s heart that he could smile and laugh after everything but her weariness grew even heavier. She’d give anything to protect that. She’d already given everything to try and it still hadn’t been enough. How much more could she do? What if she failed him like she failed Fig and Anne?

Swallowing, she looked back up at the faculty. Would it matter?

“Aurelia?”

f*ck it.

She got up without a word and stalked towards the front of the room, straight to Professor Weasley.

“Miss Green?” The older woman blinked in surprise.

“Professor Weasley.” f*ck, her mouth was so dry. She wiped her hands on her skirt. “I…I’m ready to talk. If that’s still an option.”

“Of course.” Professor Weasley smiled warmly. “You have a free period tomorrow morning, correct?”

“Yes, ma’am.” Aurelia glanced at the other teachers. “I think…I think the others should come too. It’s a lot.”

“Oh. Of course. We’ll meet after breakfast then.”

“Thank you, ma’am.” Bobbing to her, Aurelia retreated back to her table and tried not to pass out.

“It’s all right.” Poppy immediately started rubbing her back. “It’s all right. You’re all right.”

Aurelia looked across the room to see Ominis smiling gently in her direction. She huffed.

“Omniscient son of a bitch.”

*

“I’m proud of you,” he said.

“I’m going to throw up.”

“Not on the suit, please.”

Aurelia ate because he told her to but she couldn’t taste anything and it felt like every organ she had wanted to squirm its way out of her mouth. At last, she gave up and just sat next to him with her hands folded on her lap.

“I know,” Ominis said. “But I’ll be with you.”

“You don’t have to. You have class.”

“Actually, it’s called ‘status’ but easy mistake.”

She huffed a laugh, weak though it was. Then she met Professor Weasley’s eye. The older woman nodded.

“Time to go,” Aurelia said.

“All right.” Ominis took one last sip of his tea then stood, offered his arm, and they headed upstairs to her Room. As they entered, the Room expanded and conjured a huge, crescent-shaped table with its opening facing away from the door. She summoned all of her research to the front of the room, opposite the main door, and Ominis summoned a wingback chair in which he sat like some king waiting for an audience.

“Are you sure this is the right choice?” she asked. “God, they’re going to be so angry. What the hell am I doing? What if they–f*ck, you can’t be here. They’re going to throw us both out–”

“Stop, stop, stop.” He waved around for her hand and when he found it, he practically yanked her to her knees in front of him. He clasped her neck in his hands, warm and strong, and she gripped his wrists as her vision started to dot.

“Breathe,” he said, his voice gentle but firm. “Breathe, sweet girl. You’re going to be fine. And if any of them raise so much as a finger, I will handle it.”

“Ominis…”

“It will be fine.” He brushed her cheeks with his thumbs. “You will survive. Say it.”

“I’ll survive.” Yes. Yes, she would. Because that was what she did. It would be awful and stressful and she may well throw up after but she would survive.

Behind them, the doors opened. She shot to her feet, wiping her eyes, and turned to face Professors Weasley, Hecat, Ronen, Garlick, Sharp, Avicenna, and Onai as they sat down. Not every teacher but the ones that came to fight underground and, well. Professor Weasley was more observant than Aurelia thought if she brought Professor Avicenna. Damn.

“H-hello, Professors,” Aurelia said. “Thank you for coming.”

“Of course, my lotus,” Professor Garlick said, smiling in that adorable way of hers. It helped.

“Miss Green,” Professor Weasley said. “Shall we begin?”

Ominis found her hand again and she laced their fingers.

“Right,” Aurelia said. “Well, you know–or probably suspected I was involved in all the…craziness last year. But I’m not saying this to get anyone in trouble. I just…” She glanced back at Ominis, who gave her a small smile. “I just need to–I have to get it out. So…I guess I’ll start with the dragon attack.”

And she told them everything. She told them of her f*cked-up trip to Hogwarts and why she was late. She told them about Natty and Poppy and Amit. She told them about Him and Ominis. She told them about the poachers, the Ashwinders, and Officer Singer.

She told them about Ancient Magic. She told them about Richard Jackdaw and the secret locations all over the Highlands. She told them about the Keepers and the trials and the memories. She told them about Isidora and the repositories and Ranrok’s entire crusade.

The more she talked, the angrier the professors became. Her palms grew sweaty and, more than once, she faltered and Ominis had to prompt her to keep going. The third time that happened, she noticed the nail marks in his palm but they weren’t from her. Oh. Right. He didn’t know most of this either.

sh*t.

He squeezed her hand. Aside from reaching for her, that was the only time he moved. The only time he let himself move. Stomach roiling, she swallowed and turned back to the teachers.

She told them about Anne’s curse and the work she’d done trying to figure out how to help. She told them about her Fiber Theory.

“I should apologize to you, Professor Sharp,” she said. “For testing that on you without telling you.”

He nodded.

“I knew something was different,” he said. “Detention with me for two weeks for violating consent. That was incredibly dangerous and could’ve had serious repercussions.”

“Yes, sir.”

“What did you see?” Professor Avicenna said. “You said you could see the damage. What did you see in Professor Sharp?”

“Professor Sharp’s damage stretches up into his spine and into his left lung.” She cast a life-size, see-through model of a human body in the middle of the room and pointed. “Here.”

Professor Avicenna slapped the table.

“Aesop! Do you have any idea what this means? Child, this extraordinary gift, for you to see how deep a problem goes–it is incredible!”

“We can talk about that later,” Professor Weasley said. They were well past first period now. sh*t. “Miss Green, you said you had been doing research.”

“I…yes, but…classes?”

“We put notes on our doors,” Professor Onai said. Her tone brooked no argument so Aurelia nodded.

“I took Alchemy to figure out how to qualify the pain magic in the last repository. Initially, I was going to try and destroy it but all my research points to that being impossible or unacceptable so I’ve since shifted to trying to condense it into a portable form I can take with me after school.”

She shakily cast large, glowing copies of all of her work in the air.

“This is what I have.”

The pages took up the entire length of the room, row upon row of charts and equations and papers. A ripple of surprise went through the professors, quickly followed by a strange mix of astonishment, excitement, and more of that anger. She shied closer to Ominis’ chair.

“It’s all right.” He kissed the back of her hand. “You’re doing so well, darling. Just breathe.”

She let go long enough to wipe her shaking palms on her skirt then grabbed his hand again.

“Miss Green!” Professor Avicenna turned to her, a look of pure delight on his face. “Miss Green, this is amazing! I knew you were smart and I was already impressed with how quickly you caught on but to apply theoretical alchemical equations like this is just–oh! Abraham, are you seeing this? Just look at the way she wove the different spells together!”

“Are we just going to ignore the fact that she is a child?” Professor Onai asked. Aurelia quailed at the steel in her voice. “Merlin’s left tit, if Eleazar was still alive, I’d strangle him with my own hands!”

“Mudi–” Professor Weasley held up her hand.

“She is a child!” Professor Onai started pacing. “This was never her job! And for him to just take her to those ruins! I know he missed Miriam. We all miss Miriam. But to put all this on a girl who’d only just Awakened is just…just…”

“‘Irresponsible’ doesn’t begin to cover it,” Professor Sharp said darkly. “And for the Keepers to leave such ludicrous protections. Jackdaw shouldn’t have been able to find that bloody tomb, much less go far enough to get killed.”

“And to teach you nothing.” Professor Onai folded her arms, glaring at the floating diagrams. “I’ve seen such survivor’s guilt in my own daughter and for professors, grown witches and wizards to take advantage of that is beyond the pale. You could’ve died a thousand times just first term.”

“Actually,” Ominis said. “She did.”

“What?”

Ominis stood, something in the motion more fluid and serpentine. The hairs on the back of Aurelia’s neck stood up.

“Honey?”

“Forgive me, darling. I know this is your show but I’ve been practicing. Trust me?”

“I…” She glanced at the teachers then back at him. “All right.” She sat down in his chair, pleased at how warm it was, then watched Ominis smoothly stand in front of the research. A wave of his wand shifted all of it back and out of focus. Another wave had a model of a smaller body than before and a long list floating next to it.

“Professor Weasley’s already seen this,” he said. “But these are the results of Madam Blainey’s physical examination of Miss Green when she was admitted to the Infirmary after Mr. Prewett’s attack. As you can see, the injuries sustained just in fifth year are extensive. And now that I have context…”

His voice was too mild. Aurelia gripped the seat cushion, nails scraping against the upholstery. This was…this was too close to the Gaunt dinner, the soft tone she didn’t realize was a warning until it was too late.

“Second and third degree burns on multiple occasions,” he said. “At one point covering over sixty-percent of her body. Shrapnel wounds, lung damage, knife wounds, brain damage from blunt force trauma, broken legs, broken arms, broken wrists–”

“Merlin and Morgana…” Professor Garlick whispered.

“We’re only up to November. Organ damage, organ failure, spinal cord injuries, blindness, deafness, loss of fine motor function, diaphragm paralysis–”

His voice grew harder and louder as he listed off injury after injury–most of which Aurelia didn’t even remember.

“Punctured eye, punctured and collapsed lungs, broken ribs, broken eye socket, shattered pelvis, dislocated kneecaps, dislocated hips and shoulders–”

“Mr. Gaunt,” Professor Weasley said.

“Madam Blainey found scar tissue around her heart from multiple applications of magical electricity, meaning Aurelia’s heart has stopped at least six times and her Ancient Magic got it going again.”

“Ominis,” Professor Ronen said.

“She has died six times and none of you noticed.”

“Seven,” Professor Hecat said heavily. “I remember thinking how ironically poetic it was.”

A beat.

“I beg your pardon.” Ominis had never sounded so cold.

“News of Ranrok’s Rebellion had been circulating for months.” Professor Hecat stood. “Undercover agents from the Unspeakable Department have been combing the country for a while now.”

Ominis clenched his fists, his magic beginning to sink into something icy and slow.

“And you did nothing.”

“We couldn’t do anything, Mr. Gaunt. Intel on a war is bigger than some small-time criminals. They had to make a tactical decision.” She looked at Aurelia. “Some of the agents were people I had worked with, or that had trained under those that did. They were still loyal enough to me to keep me in the loop but I swear to you, on my magic, I did not know it was this bad.”

“How could you not?!” Professor Onai yelled. “My daughter was kidnapped! Where were your agents then?”

“Doing their job! And it wouldn’t have happened at all if she’d just stayed in the castle.”

“Don’t you blame this on her!”

Ominis was shaking. Or maybe Aurelia was. The room kept trying to tip and she couldn’t get enough air.

“Dinah, explain yourself!”

“I am Deputy Headmistress at this school! You’re saying I didn’t have a need-to-know about my own children?”

“Why didn’t you say anything? We could’ve acted so much sooner!”

A laugh bubbled up out of Aurelia’s throat, soft at first then louder, harder, until she was dizzy and gasping in her chair. A strong hand gripped her wrist. Ominis. But she couldn’t stop laughing, the sound burning like bile on her lips. It was funny.

So f*cking funny.

“Of course you knew,” she said, pulling herself up. “Of course you knew. How else would you get to the battle so quickly? All those promises about keeping it secret; Fig wouldn’t tell you right away. You wouldn’t have believed him but you showed up anyway, just in the nick of time. And that’s why I never got in trouble for missing class. You knew I was out there.”

She let her eyes slide from teacher to teacher, the smile painful and jagged on her face.

“So convenient, right? So helpful, this little nobody coming in to do all your dirty work and so what if she dies; it’s not like she’s important to anyone.”

“Aurelia,” Professor Hecat said. “It’s not like that.”

“It’s not enough I had to clean up Isidora’s mess and deal with those f*cking Keepers but now I had to fight your war while you stayed safe in the castle! Why did I try so hard?! Why did I run myself ragged, tearing myself up for keeping it all a secret if you knew the whole time?! Why have I been making myself sick trying to fix all this?!”

She ripped her wrist away from Ominis, tears streaming down her face.

“You should’ve let Prewett kill me! You should’ve turned me in with Him!”

“Darling…” Ominis reached for her.

“What was the point?! They all died anyway! Fig, Lodgok, Anne. He was right! Ominis, He was right! I shouldn’t be here! None of it mattered! They knew and no one cared and everyone still died anyway!”

“No–”

“It’s my fault. It’s all my fault and it did nothing!” She made to smack his hand away but stopped, an idea clicking into place. “But you could do it. You could do it. If you do it, it would stick. I wouldn’t fight you.” She grabbed his hand. “You could do it. You’re strong enough. You’re so strong. You don’t deserve any of this and I’ve f*cked up so much already–”

“Aurelia–”

“Please!” Her knees buckled and she sank to the floor, sobbing. “Please, I’m so tired. I’m so tired. Please, just kill me. I’ll be so much happier; please!”

Ominis crushed her to his chest. Another noise, distant, distressed, then soft hands on her back and the scent of spring flowers enveloped her. For a long, long moment, there was no other sound, just her ragged breathing and him holding her tighter than her shakes.

A chair scraped.

“Professor Hecat,” Professor Ronen said, his voice harder than Aurelia had ever heard. “I think you need to tell us everything in great detail. Now.”

Ominis somehow got them moved around so he was back in his chair with Aurelia in his lap and his arms firmly around her waist. Professor Garlick stood next to them, a hand on Aurelia’s shoulder. Across the room, Professor Hecat looked to be fighting back tears of her own.

“Right,” the older woman said, clearing her throat. “Well, I suppose I’ll start at the beginning too. Reports of suspicious activity started coming in about two, two and a half years ago. Aggressive beasts in the wrong places, criminals coming a little too close, goblin craft guilds shirking on orders. As it escalated, reports of that strange red magic also came in. That’s when the first aurors came. The Ministry suspected it was a rebellion of some kind pretty quickly. Ranrok was loud and charismatic, able to rile up his fellow goblins fairly easily. But they didn’t expect him to work with wizards.

“The Unspeakables came after that. And with every report, I tried to feed as much information to the rest of you as I could, without compromising the missions. Bad weather for Hogsmeade, too many aggressive animals for forest trips, oh, there’s a flu sweeping through, best grow more dittany and have a stockpile, just in case.”

“You cancelled quidditch,” Professor Sharp said.

“Yes. The boy’s accident was genuine but I went straight to Black and scared him with how many Purebloods he’d upset if he kept on. It was…laughably easy.” Professor Hecat looked at Aurelia, suddenly looking every bit as old as she appeared. “When reports came in of a student fighting the Ashwinders, I was livid. ‘Bring her back,’ I told them. Of course, ‘bring her back.’ But you were effective. And Eleazar was with you. Tight-lipped son of a bitch that man was, when he wanted to be. I worked on him, had the rest of you work on him, but he wouldn’t budge. Knowing it was about Miriam’s research, that makes more sense now.

“So I pivoted. Ranrok and Rookwood both wanted you. That was not something I could hide from the Ministry. I don’t have that kind of pull anymore.”

“Bait,” Ominis said. “They were using her as bait. If she takes down a few gangsters, so much the better, but your coworkers were using a child as disposable bait.”

“Yes.” Professor Hecat leaned heavily on the table. “Yes, they wanted to see if Miss Green could draw out either of them or both. I called in as many favors as I could, gave as much information–and mis-information–as I could, to move things around, keep the Ashwinders scattered and divided.”

“How much worse would it have been?” Aurelia asked, her voice hollow.

“It doesn’t matt–” Ominis tightened his grip around her waist but she held up her hand.

“How much worse?”

“By my estimate…” Professor Hecat sighed, looking up at the ceiling as she thought. “Two and a half times, at least. The agents couldn’t act overtly or that would blow their cover but once you started causing trouble, it gave them a chance to cause more.”

“So not every agent followed the ‘wait-and-see’ order,” Professor Sharp said.

“No. But the Ministry knows about you now, Miss Green. They don’t know why or how but they know you’re powerful and anyone of special interest to a rebel leader is of special interest to them. They came banging on my door right after the attack.” Professor Hecat nodded to Professor Weasley. “While you were dealing with statements and inquiries, Matilda, I was busy convincing the Ministry that a girl that powerful needed a proper education. That she was too dangerous to just take.”

Ominis stiffened.

“Take how?”

“For work. Your position as an auror is all but guaranteed, Miss Green. They want you trained and lethal and out on the field as soon as possible. I had to get…very stroppy…but I did it. They’ll leave you alone until you graduate. After that, well. You’re going to get a lot of attention.”

“Guess that also explains why I’m not in Azkaban right now,” Aurelia said. “I’m no use to them in prison.”

“And will you tell them about this?” Professor Avicenna asked Professor Hecat. “Will you report that this child can wield Ancient Magic like one of the great demi-gods of old?”

“No. No, they have no reason to know.” Professor Hecat looked at Aurelia. “That does not mean they won’t investigate. Something in your history, your family, made it possible for you to tap into this power. We can use that angle, especially as you’re an orphan. You could be kin to one of the Old Families and that could buy us some time. But if the Ministry finds out you can manipulate the Weave itself…”

“They’ll own her forever,” Professor Sharp said.

“They can try,” Ominis said. Professor Hecat gave a sad, bitter smirk.

“You are not near powerful enough for such talk, Mr. Gaunt. Someday, perhaps. But not yet. As for you, Miss Green…” She sighed. “I’m sorry. Truly. I can show you logs of what I’ve done the past few years if you think that would help but I know I failed you. You’re angry and you have every right to be. I have no excuse.”

She sat down again and Aurelia chewed on her tongue, one hand toying with Ominis’ cuff. She felt…crackly yet hollow, like those grey rocks with crystals growing on the inside, all those sharp, shiny points facing inward. If she breathed too deep, would she cut herself? Would that make her feel better?

“I think we all need to see what you’ve been doing,” Professor Weasley said tightly. “But that is a meeting for another time. We will talk later, Dinah.”

“Yes, Headmistress.”

“As for you, Miss Green.” Professor Weasley stood and came around the table to look at the pages and pages of work still floating against the wall. “Merlin, child. The things you’ve been able to accomplish.” She turned to Aurelia, tried a smile despite the pain in her eyes. “You helped her dance for so long.”

Aurelia nodded, eyes filling with tears again. Dammit, was she ever going to stop crying?

“Lady Greengrass took care of me,” she said. “Kept me from having to dance or socialize. Which worked out. I threw up blood for a couple hours after.”

Whispers and swears and angry mutterings. Professor Weasley recovered first but even Aurelia could tell it was a struggle.

“You are a remarkable young woman, Miss Green. And I am both immeasurably sorry and unspeakably grateful for everything you’ve done. This is a burden you should never have had to bear. If we can help you in any capacity, we will.”

Relief. Raw and sharp as she felt, relief still let her sag against Ominis.

“I think I’m done,” she said. “Or at least, as done as I can be. I had Ominis check the math but this is so big and so…I don’t want to mess this up. It can’t stay here but if I mess up, it could destroy the whole castle.” She swallowed hard. “I need help.”

“I hope you understand, Professor Weasley,” Ominis said, squeezing her. “How much courage it took for her to break her word to Fig, for her to come to you in the first place.”

“I do, Mr. Gaunt. Just as I know you are as angry at yourself for missing the signs as you are at us.”

He flinched but said nothing, just clenched his jaw and turned away.

“We will help you,” Professor Weasley said, putting a gentle hand on Aurelia’s shoulder. “You’ve done more than enough. It’s our turn now.” She turned to the teachers. “The first step is to secure the repository. Dinah, Abraham, double check the protections under the castle. No one gets in or out without our knowing. Khalid, check her work. The theory is sound but this is too dangerous to leave to chance. I hate the idea of you being the only one to manipulate the pain magic, Miss Green, but I also hate the idea of keeping it under the castle. We need to define that process as quickly as possible.”

“I’ll gather the intel I have as well,” Professor Hecat said, coming closer. Ominis stood and moved Aurelia behind him, leaving her to hug his arm if she wanted to see. The older woman stopped a few feet away with a sad smile.

“I know,” she said. “We were supposed to protect you and we failed. I failed. So we will do everything in our power to help you for the rest of your time here at Hogwarts. For my part, I am so, so sorry. I’m sorry you were left to fend for yourself. I’m sorry Eleazar put such a burden on you and I’m sorry you felt you had to do it all on your own. But most of all…”

She swallowed, took a breath.

“But most of all, I’m sorry you understand.”

Aurelia looked at her, saw the grief in her lined face, Saw her magic coiled close and dim. She was sorry. They were all sorry, which was more than she’d had from any other adults in her life.

But.

“Will you be in danger?” Aurelia asked. “For covering for me?”

“There might be some static from higher up the chain but nothing we can’t handle. We’ll spend the summer getting everything sorted.”

Aurelia gave a slow nod, hand sliding down to lace her fingers with Ominis’.

“I think we’re done for the day,” he said. Professor Hecat nodded.

“Before we leave.” Professor Sharp summoned a piece of parchment, quill, and ink pot. “This is a non-disclosure agreement that nothing we learned in this room will leave this room. Everyone will sign it.”

“Professor,” Ominis said. “Please, add a clause that no one will enter this room or use Miss Green’s research without her written and witnessed consent.”

Professor Sharp nodded, a small smirk on his lips, and after finishing the agreement, passed it around.

“When this is over,” Professor Avicenna said. “I’d be very interested in discussing possible applications. What you’ve done is truly inspired.”

“I can’t publish anything about Ancient Magic,” Aurelia said. “And I won’t, even if the Ministry tries to make me.”

“A valid concern,” Professor Ronen said. “But you’ve done a great deal of work to explain everything in different systems. The assignments you’ve turned in could be up for discussion.”

“After N.E.W.Ts,” Professor Weasley said. “We can discuss academic release agreements. In the meantime, I will see what I can do about getting Miriam’s research.” She looked at Aurelia. “It might not be anything new but you never know.”

“Oh.” Aurelia hadn’t even thought of that. “That would be wonderful.”

“Then that’s settled. Now.” The older redhead looked at her watch. “It’s well into lunchtime. I am excusing you two from classes for the rest of the day. Is the repository stable enough?”

“Yes.”

“Then it’s time to rest. We will have a plan–or the makings of a plan–for us to discuss after final exams. In the meantime, you and Mr. Gaunt will focus on your studies and being just students for a couple months.”

Huh. Wasn’t that a crazy thought.

“Does that work for everyone?” Professor Weasley asked. Agreement all around.

“Are you planning on staying here for the summer again?” Professor Garlick asked.

“Yes,” Aurelia said. “I was going to map all the Ancient Magic sites, see if they follow leylines and if I could use them as a power source.”

“Then we can speak more freely then,” Professor Weasley said. “Not all of us are staying but there should be at least a week or so at the beginning where we can meet. All right, everyone. Dismissed.”

Professor Garlick hugged her first, fierce and much stronger than Aurelia would’ve expected. Then Professor Onai, muttering teary ‘thank you’s and ‘I’m sorry’s’ into her hair. Professor Ronen was gentle with his hug but no less heartfelt for it and even Professor Weasley broke decorum and held her tight. Professor Avicenna shook her hand, his bright-eyed excitement validating and oddly comforting after all of that. Professor Sharp shook her hand too, but his eyes were dark and sad like they were after their visit to Azkaban.

“Grieve,” he said. “You may understand and you may even come to agree, to a point. But don’t lie to yourself and say everything is all right. It’s not. Let it be wrong.” He held up a finger, making sure he had her attention. “You are not worth more dead.”

Professor Hecat was last. Ominis wouldn’t let her get close enough to touch so she just bowed her head and left with the others. Then the doors shut and the research went back in its boxes and it was done.

Aurelia let out a long breath.

“Oh my god…”

Ominis pulled her into his arms again, strong and warm but…oh. He was crying.

“It’s all right, honey,” she said. “It’s over. You did so well. Thank you.”

He hissed something in Parseltongue, too much venom, too much tension in his back.

“Honey…” She held him tighter but that seemed to make it worse. “Hey.”

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I’m so sorry. She was right. She was right; I’m so sorry.” He pulled back, brushing her hair back, cradling her neck. Tears rolled down his cheeks. “I knew. I knew you were getting hurt. I heard you limping. I heard you wince when you breathed. I smelled the blood. But some part of me thought you deserved it. Here, at least, was a physical consequence of Sebastian’s foolishness. At least someone was paying the price.”

“Ominis…”

“Out of everyone in this f*cking castle, I’m the one that can best tell when a child’s being abused. I’ve reported others to the teachers. Ronen’s gotten some of them out, or Freya. I didn’t know you’d gone through all this. I didn’t–But I knew you were getting hurt and did nothing.”

Well. That certainly explained his attention now. Aurelia should probably feel hurt or betrayed but she was too wrung out to even be shocked. It just was.

“I wouldn’t have stopped,” she said. “You know that.”

“No. But maybe you wouldn’t have gotten so hurt. Maybe you wouldn’t have d-died…”

She smiled.

“No, honey,” she said. “There’s nothing you could’ve done. And maybe He’s right. Maybe I deserve–”

“No.” His grip turned to steel, his fire whipping around them both. “You did not deserve to be forced to fight. You did not deserve to be used and broken and thrown away. You did not deserve any of this.”

“You can’t say that. You can’t–” She tried to shake her head, tried to pull away, but he held fast and when she couldn’t escape, what control she’d managed to salvage crumbled.

“Why didn’t you let him kill me? Why didn’t–why do you care? I don’t understand. I just–I don’t–”

“I know, darling. I know. I’ve been there. I know. And I know you don’t believe me. But you’re so strong and so kind and you’ve worked so hard. I’m so proud of you.”

She struggled, flexed, but when he still didn’t let go, she sighed and dropped her head on his chest. No use. Everything felt heavy now.

“I’m tired.”

“I know.” He gently stroked her hair. “Will you…let me hold you? I understand if you…”

She managed a nod and he scooped her up, carrying her into the bedroom and setting her on the bed. First, he took off her shoes then he took off her vest and tie. She watched him, her mind slowing even further. Too much. Too much, too fast.

“I was good,” she said, her voice sounding too small. “I told them. Like you said. I asked for help.”

“Yes, sweet girl. You were very good. I’m so proud of you.” He started gently undoing her braids, his long fingers threading through her hair in a way that made her eyes droop.

“I’m tired.”

“Then rest. Everything will be all right. You’re safe.”

Humming, she let him tip her onto the pillows and he stretched out next to her, covering them both with a thick, fuzzy blanket.

“Sleep,” he said. “I won’t let anything happen to you.” He wrapped his arms around her, warmth and strength and safety. “Never again.”