Can Things Change

“The Midnight Duel” Fred giggled as he read.

Aurora had never believed she would meet a boy she hated more than Dudley, but that was before she met Draco Malfoy. 

“Now don’t you think that’s going a little far Ro,” Amice asked while Draco looked deeply offended.

“It was,” Aurora admitted. “But do you remember him first year? You weren’t his biggest fan either.”

“Amice!” Draco exclaimed, half laughing.

Still, first-year Gryffindors only had Potions with the Slytherins, so they didn’t have to put up with Malfoy much. Or at least, they didn’t until they spotted a notice pinned up in the Gryffindor common room that made them all groan. Flying lessons would be starting on Thursday 

“But that was the best part of first year!” James yelled.

Aurora shrugged, hiding her smirk, “I only went to one lesson, it just wasn’t for me.”

James groaned.

— and Gryffindor and Slytherin would be learning together.

“Why are the two most dangerous classes with the two houses that have the biggest rivalry?” Xenophilius asked. 

“I don’t know,” Aurora answered. “We were the only year that had those classes together in about 50 years.”

“It's true, I had potions with Hufflepuff’s and flying lessons with Ravenclaws,” Fred said.

“Ravenclaws and Gryffindors were paired in both of them in our year,” Luna added, pointing to herself and Ginny.

“Typical,” said Aurora darkly. “Just what I always wanted. To make a fool of myself on a broomstick in front of Malfoy.”

All of the time travelers had to muffle their laughs, earning several suspicious looks from the others in the room, especially the Marauders.

She had been looking forward to learning to fly more than anything else other than potions, and now that was going to be ruined too.

“Potions was really that bad” Lily asked. “It wasn’t just the first lesson?”

“It’s always like that,” Neville said. “Ro and I are the targets of our year.”

Lily just looked at Severus disappointed. 

Seeing the forlorn look on her mothers face, Aurora tried to cheer her up, “Potions is still one of my favorite things about being a witch. I just had to find outside teaching.” She looked at Fred, beaming.

“Up until her third year, either George and I taught her, or Cedric did,” Fred said, smiling down at Aurora in return. “After her third year, she hired outside tutoring.”

“You don’t know that you’ll make a fool of yourself,” said Ron reasonably. “Anyway, I know Malfoy’s always going on about how good he is at Quidditch, but I bet that’s all talk.”

“I highly doubt that,” Lucius cut in. “Malfoy’s are very proficient fliers.”

“He is a very good player,” Aurora assured. “He just needs to be playing the correct position.” She teased Draco, who just grumbled under his breath. They had talked at length that the only reason that he had played seeker instead of chaser like he wanted was because he was pressured by his father to beat Aurora.

Malfoy certainly did talk about flying a lot. He complained loudly about first years never getting on the house Quidditch teams and told long, boastful stories that always seemed to end with him narrowly escaping Muggles in helicopters. He wasn’t the only one, though: the way Seamus Finnigan told it, he’d spent most of his childhood zooming around the countryside on his broomstick. Even Ron would tell anyone who’d listen about the time he’d almost hit a hang glider on Charlie’s old broom.

“And he never caught you?” Ginny asked, shocked. “The one time I used his broom he knew and yelled at me worse than mom ever has.”

“I always asked first,” Ron smirked at his sister. He knew that himself and all his other brothers were over protective of their sister, and none of the others would ever let her fly on her own if they knew. 

Everyone from wizarding families talked about Quidditch constantly. Ron had already had a big argument with Dean Thomas, who shared their dormitory, about soccer. Ron couldn’t see what was exciting about a game with only one ball where no one was allowed to fly. Aurora had caught Ron prodding Dean’s poster of West Ham soccer team, trying to make the players move. 

“What’s soccer,” several of the pure bloods asked.

“It’s a muggle sport,” Lily explained.

“There’s two teams of eleven that try to kick a ball into the other team's goal, which is like a giant box with a net on it,” Hermione continued. 

The ones who had asked, nodded, satisfied with the explanation, several making a note to look up soccer and watch it sometime.

She had been hanging out with Ron and Neville in their dorm, trying to get away from all the staring in the common room. Fred and George had had fun pranking people that night, and the stares had decreased afterwards, at least from the Gryffindors.

“We tried with the other houses too,” Fred said. “Never made much of a difference.”

“Cedric and I tried to reign in the Hufflepuffs,” Amice said. “And well you know how that turned out.”

Aurora just nodded. “Second and Fourth year,” she added to the others in the room.

Amice just looked down at her lap sadly, she was so ashamed of her house those two years. Draco covered her hand, soothing her with his touch.

Neville had never been on a broomstick in his life, because his grandmother had never let him near one. Privately, Aurora felt she didn’t have much faith in her grandson, because Neville managed to have an extraordinary number of accidents even with both feet on the ground, but was getting much better with a little praise and confidence.

“Oh no,” Neville said, going to the defense of his grandmother, who it appeared was about to be yelled at by his father. “I’m a horrible flier. Nothing anyone does helps. But I’m fine with keeping my feet on the ground. I can fly if necessary but I’d really rather not.”

“I’m not much for flying either,” Alice said. 

Hermione Granger was almost as nervous about flying as Neville was. This was something you couldn’t learn by heart out of a book — not that she hadn’t tried. At breakfast on Thursday she bored them all stupid with flying tips she’d gotten out of a library book called Quidditch Through the Ages. Neville was hanging on to her every word, desperate for anything that might help him hang on to his broomstick later, but everybody else was very pleased when Hermione’s lecture was interrupted by the arrival of the mail.

Aurora hadn’t had a single letter since Hagrid’s note, something that Malfoy had been quick to notice, of course. Malfoy’s eagle owl was always bringing him packages of sweets from home, which he opened gloatingly at the Slytherin table.

“That’s not very smart of you,” Regulus said. “It won’t endear you to the others in your house, not just the other houses.”

“Yes, it was a miscalculation,” Draco agreed. He had had some issues in the house for his first year. He had learned to temper his gloating, and point what he couldn’t as insults to Aurora.

A barn owl brought Neville a small package from his grandmother. He opened it excitedly, only to frown and show them a glass ball the size of a large marble, which seemed to be full of white smoke.

“Oh no,” Sirius groaned. “Those are so useless.” Some of the others looked at him in confusion.

“It’s a Remembrall!” he explained. 

“Oh,” the confused people exclaimed.

“Sirius is right,” Columba agreed. “They are always red, because they don’t differentiate what you’ve forgotten, so it could be something as simple as a quill or something bigger like a birthday. But you don’t know what because it doesn’t tell you what you’ve forgotten.” 

“Gran knows I forget things — this tells you if there’s something you’ve forgotten to do. Look, you hold it tight like this and if it turns red — oh…” His face fell, because the Remembrall had suddenly glowed scarlet, “… you’ve forgotten something…”

“You hadn’t written to your Gran that week,” Aurora said. “It was her birthday the day before.”

Augusta just smiled softly at her grandson. She was probably trying to subtly remind him, not wanting to make him feel bad about forgetting. She knew how the first month of school could be; how easy it was to forget that there was a world outside of Hogwarts sometimes.

Neville was trying to remember what he’d forgotten when Draco Malfoy, who was passing the Gryffindor table, snatched the Remembrall out of his hand.

“Draco!” Narcissa scolded, causing the boy to shrink back, hiding behind Amice.

Aurora and Ron jumped to their feet. They were half hoping for a reason to fight Malfoy, but Professor McGonagall, who could spot trouble quicker than any teacher in the school, was there in a flash.

“I swear it’s like she can smell trouble,” James whispered loudly to the other Marauders, who chuckled in response.

McGonagall hid a smile with her hand.

“What’s going on?”

“Malfoy’s got my Remembrall, Professor.”

Scowling, Malfoy quickly dropped the Remembrall back on the table.

“Just looking,” he said, and he sloped away with Crabbe and Goyle behind him.

At three-thirty that afternoon, Aurora, Ron, and the other Gryffindors hurried down the front steps onto the grounds for their first flying lesson. It was a clear, breezy day, and the grass rippled under their feet as they marched down the sloping lawns toward a smooth, flat lawn on the opposite side of the grounds to the forbidden forest, whose trees were swaying darkly in the distance.

“That’s good flying weather,” Remus stated. James and Sirius were almost bouncing in their seats, excited to hear about the lesson.

The Slytherins were already there, and so were twenty broomsticks lying in neat lines on the ground. Aurora had heard Fred and George Weasley complain about the school brooms, saying that some of them started to vibrate if you flew too high, or always flew slightly to the left.

“I shall talk to the board about updating the school brooms every five years,” Augusta said to the Professors, looking pointedly at Dumbledore. “Those sound very dangerous. We won’t get the newest model of course but I’m sure we could find something much safer.”

Dumbledore nodded in agreement with the lady. She was right, those did not sound safe for the students at all.

Their teacher, Madam Hooch, arrived. She had short, gray hair, and yellow eyes like a hawk.

“Well, what are you all waiting for?” she barked. “Everyone stand by a broomstick. Come on, hurry up.”

Aurora glanced down at her broom. It was old and some of the twigs stuck out at odd angles.

“That’ll have some drag issues,” James said confidently.

“Stick out your right hand over your broom,” called Madam Hooch at the front, “and say ‘Up!’”

“UP” everyone shouted.

Aurora’s broom jumped into her hand at once, 

“You’re a natural,” James yelled. Keeping up the charade, Aurora just shrugged nonchalantly. 

but it was one of the few that did. Hermione Granger’s had simply rolled over on the ground, and Neville’s hadn’t moved at all. Perhaps brooms, like horses, could tell when you were afraid, thought Aurora; there was a quaver in Neville’s voice that said only too clearly that he wanted to keep his feet on the ground.

Madam Hooch then showed them how to mount their brooms without sliding off the end, and walked up and down the rows correcting their grips. Aurora and Ron were delighted when she told Malfoy he’d been doing it wrong for years.

“It was a French technique,” Draco scowled. “I have always preferred it to what is taught at Hogwarts.”

“I prefer the Bulgarian way myself,” Aurora said. Ever since Krum had taught her a few things, she had adopted his grip style.

“Now, when I blow my whistle, you kick off from the ground, hard,” said Madam Hooch. “Keep your brooms steady, rise a few feet, and then come straight back down by leaning forward slightly. On my whistle — three — two —”

But Neville, nervous and jumpy and frightened of being left on the ground, pushed off hard before the whistle had touched Madam Hooch’s lips.

“Come back, boy!” she shouted, but Neville was rising straight up like a cork shot out of a bottle — twelve feet — twenty feet. Aurora saw his scared white face look down at the ground falling away, saw him gasp, slip sideways off the broom and —

WHAM 

Fred had shouted the word, causing several people to jump, and Frank and Alice looked worriedly at their son. Frank had a hand on Alice, holding her in her seat to keep her from rushing to check on Neville herself.

— a thud and a nasty crack and Neville lay facedown on the grass in a heap. His broomstick was still rising higher and higher, and started to drift lazily toward the forbidden forest and out of sight. Aurora was racing for Neville before he even landed, beating Madam Hooch to her brother.

Lily and Alice shared a soft look, loving how much their children cared for each other.

Madam Hooch was bending over Neville, her face as white as his.

“Broken wrist,” Aurora heard her mutter. “Come on, boy — it’s all right, up you get.”

She turned to the rest of the class.

“None of you is to move while I take this boy to the hospital wing! You leave those brooms where they are or you’ll be out of Hogwarts before you can say ‘Quidditch.’ Come on, dear.”

“Well Draco, what did you do?” Barty asked, looking at the boy.

“How do you know he did anything?” Lucius asked the younger man, his voice carrying a threatening quality.

“Come now Luce,” Narcissa said, laying a hand on his arm. “He has just been left with his rival, with no supervision from a Professor. You would do something against your rival and Draco is obviously very much like you.”

Lucius humph’d and Severus had to hide a smirk at how well his friend had just been handled by his wife.

Neville, his face tear-streaked, clutching his wrist, hobbled off with Madam Hooch, who had her arm around him.

No sooner were they out of earshot than Malfoy burst into laughter.

“Did you see his face, the great lump?”

The other Slytherins joined in.

“Shut up, Malfoy,” snapped Parvati Patil.

“Ooh, sticking up for Longbottom?” said Pansy Parkinson, a hard-faced Slytherin girl. “Never thought you’d like fat little crybabies, Parvati.”

“Aren’t the Parkinson’s in business with the Patil’s,” Narcissa asked.

“They were,” Draco answered. “Pansy grew up with Parvati and Padme, but her treatment of Parvati after she was sorted into Gryffindor caused the Patil’s to dissolve the contract.”

“I can not believe that her father was pleased with this,” Lucius said.

“She had a very unpleasant summer.”

“Look!” said Malfoy, darting forward and snatching something out of the grass. “It’s that stupid thing Longbottom’s gran sent him.”

The Remembrall glittered in the sun as he held it up.

“Give that here, Malfoy,” said Aurora quietly. Everyone stopped talking to watch.

Malfoy smiled nastily.

“I think I’ll leave it somewhere for Longbottom to find — how about — up a tree?”

“Give it here!” Aurora yelled, but Malfoy had leapt onto his broomstick and taken off. He hadn’t been lying, he could fly well. 

“Thank you Ro.”

Hovering level with the topmost branches of an oak he called, “Come and get it, Potter!”

Aurora grabbed her broom.

“But you haven’t been taught how to fly yet,” Lily said, hiding her face in James’ shoulder.

“No!” shouted Hermione Granger. “Madam Hooch told us not to move — you’ll get us all into trouble.”

Aurora ignored her. Blood was pounding in her ears. She mounted the broom and kicked hard against the ground and up, up she soared; air rushed through her hair, and her robes whipped out behind her — and in a rush of fierce joy she realized she’d found something he could do without being taught — this was easy, this was wonderful. 

“But…” James trailed off. Sirius and Remus let out a loud laugh, having finally clued in that Aurora was messing with them.

James looked back and forth from Aurora to his friends. “You tricked me!”

“I did,” Aurora agreed.

“So then why didn’t you ever try out for the team if you enjoy flying so much?”

Aurora just nodded to the book, not answering the question. It would do it for her in just a moment.

She pulled her broomstick up a little to take it even higher, and heard screams and gasps of girls back on the ground and an admiring whoop from the boys.

She turned her broomstick sharply to face Malfoy in midair. Malfoy looked stunned.

“Give it here,” Aurora called, “or I’ll knock you off that broom!”

“Aurora Jasmine,” Lily scolded, “I don’t care what you are doing, you never threaten someone with knocking them off their broom.”

“Yes ma’am,” Aurora agreed. She had regretted that threat, they were rather high in the air at the time.

“Oh, yeah?” said Malfoy, trying to sneer, but looking worried. 

Aurora knew, somehow, what to do. She leaned forward and grasped the broom tightly in both hands, and it shot toward Malfoy like a javelin. Malfoy only just got out of the way in time; Aurora made a sharp about-face and held the broom steady. A few people below were clapping.

“No Crabbe and Goyle up here to save your neck, Malfoy,” Aurora called.

The same thought seemed to have struck Malfoy.

“No, I was astonished at how well you flew.”

“Catch it if you can, then!” he shouted, and he threw the glass ball high into the air and streaked back toward the ground.

Aurora saw, as though in slow motion, the ball rise up in the air and then start to fall. She leaned forward and pointed her broom handle down — next second she was gathering speed in a steep dive, racing the ball — wind whistled in her ears, mingled with the screams of people watching — she stretched out her hand — a foot from the ground she caught it, just in time to pull her broom straight, and she toppled gently onto the grass with the Remembrall clutched safely in her fist.

James jumped into the air cheering, and dislodged Lily who was clutching onto him in fear at the description of Aurora’s dive. Sirius was quick to join him. 

“You did that on a school broom?” Peter asked, looking at Aurora in awe.

“AURORA POTTER!”

Her heart sank faster than she’d just dived. Professor McGonagall was running toward them. She got to her feet, trembling.

“Never — in all my time at Hogwarts —”

The Marauders couldn’t contain their laughter. “Very funny Professor,” Sirius said.

Professor McGonagall was almost speechless with shock, and her glasses flashed furiously, “— how dare you — might have broken your neck —”

“It wasn’t her fault, Professor —”

“Be quiet, Miss Patil —”

“But Malfoy —”

“That’s enough, Mr. Weasley. Potter, follow me, now.”

“You could have let them explain,” Pandora argued. “You shouldn’t punish a student without all the facts.”

“No one ever listens to us,” Ron grumbled.

Aurora caught sight of Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle’s triumphant faces as she left, walking numbly in Professor McGonagall’s wake as she strode toward the castle. She was going to be expelled, she just knew it. She wanted to say something to defend herself, but there seemed to be something wrong with her voice. Professor McGonagall was sweeping along without even looking at her; she had to jog to keep up. Now she’d done it. She hadn’t even lasted two weeks. She’d be packing her bags in ten minutes. What would the Dursleys say when she turned up on the doorstep? 

“You would not be expelled for flying on broom Miss Potter,” Flitwick said.

“I know that now, but I was being led somewhere and Professor Minnie wasn’t saying anything. My mind jumped to the worst conclusion.”

“It does that a lot,” Luna and Ginny said at the same time.

Up the front steps, up the marble staircase inside, and still Professor McGonagall didn’t say a word to her. She wrenched open doors and marched along corridors with Aurora trotting miserably behind her. Maybe she was taking her to Dumbledore. She thought of Hagrid, expelled but allowed to stay on as gamekeeper. Perhaps she could be Hagrid’s assistant. Her stomach twisted as she imagined it, watching Ron and the others becoming wizards, while she stumped around the grounds carrying Hagrid’s bag.

Professor McGonagall stopped outside a classroom. She opened the door and poked her head inside.

“Excuse me, Professor Flitwick, could I borrow Wood for a moment?”

Wood? thought Aurora, bewildered; was Wood a cane she was going to use on her?

“I would never!” McGonagall exclaimed. She looked extremely offended that a student thought that she would cane them. Meanwhile, James, Sirius and Lily were once again reminded that Aurora grew up in an environment where she would get beaten for the smallest things, and that this probably seemed quite normal to the girl.

But Wood turned out to be a person, a burly fifth-year boy who came out of Flitwick’s class looking confused.

“Follow me, you two,” said Professor McGonagall, and they marched on up the corridor, Wood looking curiously at Aurora.

“In here.”

Professor McGonagall pointed them into a classroom that was empty except for Peeves, who was busy writing rude words on the blackboard.

“Out, Peeves!” she barked. Peeves threw the chalk into a bin, which clanged loudly, and he swooped out cursing. Professor McGonagall slammed the door behind him and turned to face the two.

“Potter, this is Oliver Wood. Wood — I’ve found you a Seeker.”

“No way!” Sirius shouted.

“My daughter is the youngest seeker in a century!” James hollered. 

“That’s our girl!” They both chanted, jumping around in a circle holding hands. 

Lily and Marlene let them have their moment before calming them down.

Wood’s expression changed from puzzlement to delight.

“Are you serious, Professor?”

“Absolutely,” said Professor McGonagall crisply. “The girl’s a natural. I’ve never seen anything like it. Was that your first time on a broomstick, Potter?”

Aurora nodded silently. She didn’t have a clue what was going on, but she didn’t seem to be being expelled, and some of the feeling started coming back to her legs.

“She caught that thing in her hand after a fifty-foot dive,” Professor McGonagall told Wood. “Didn’t even scratch herself. Charlie Weasley couldn’t have done it.” 

“I really don’t think he could have either,” Ron said.

“Have you two ever had a seekers match against each other?” Arthur asked.

“Bill and Charlie came home for a visit before our fourth year,” Aurora said. “We had a couple skirmishes then.”

Both Molly and Arthur looked interested. “She trounced him!” Ginny exclaimed. “He was so surprised the first two times, and wouldn’t call it for another six. You finally had to make them stop when it got too late.”

Wood was now looking as though all his dreams had come true at once.

“Ever seen a game of Quidditch, Potter?” he asked excitedly.

“Wood’s captain of the Gryffindor team,” Professor McGonagall explained.

“She’s just the build for a Seeker, too,” said Wood, now walking around Aurora and staring at her. “Light —speedy — we’ll have to get her a decent broom, Professor — a Nimbus Two Thousand or a Cleansweep Seven, I’d say.”

“I shall speak to Professor Dumbledore and see if we can’t bend the first-year rule. Heaven knows, we need a better team than last year. Flattened in that last match by Slytherin, I couldn’t look Severus Snape in the face for weeks…”

“Special treatment for Potter, how surprising,” Severus murmured to Lucius who nodded in agreement. Unfortunately he wasn’t quiet enough and Aurora heard.

“It’s not special treatment if there is a precedent for it. As I was the youngest in a century, not ever, obviously a first year had been allowed to have a broom before.”

Ron chimed in, “Also there is no rule against a first year playing on the house team, so that’s not special treatment either.”

Professor McGonagall peered sternly over her glasses at Aurora.

“I want to hear you’re training hard, Potter, or I may change my mind about punishing you. I expect you to keep your grades up.”

Then she suddenly smiled.

“Your father would have been proud,” she said. “He was an excellent Quidditch player himself.” Aurora was still too speechless to say anything, only nod.

“You’re joking.”

It was dinnertime. Aurora had just finished telling Ron what had happened when she’d left the grounds with Professor McGonagall. Ron had a piece of steak and kidney pie halfway to his mouth, but he’d forgotten all about it.

“What is it with you and making me forget about food,” Ron teased. “Happens at least once a year.”

“And once a year his astonishment leaves all of us with a view of his half chewed food,” Amice teased back.

“Seeker?” he said. “But first years never — you must be the youngest house player in about —”

“ — a century,” said Aurora, shoveling pie into her mouth. She felt particularly hungry after the excitement of the afternoon. “Wood told me.”

Ron was so amazed, so impressed, he just sat and gaped at Aurora.

“I start training next week,” said Aurora. “Only don’t tell anyone, Wood wants to keep it a secret.”

“Well that will never happen,” Fabian said,

“Nothing stays secret at Hogwarts,” Gideon continued.

Fred and George Weasley now came into the hall, spotted Aurora, and hurried over.

“Well done,” said George in a low voice. “Wood told us. We’re on the team too — Beaters.” 

“I was a Beater too,” Sirius said.

“I tell you, we’re going to win that Quidditch cup for sure this year,” said Fred. “We haven’t won since Charlie left, but this year’s team is going to be brilliant. You must be good, Aurora, Wood was almost skipping when he told us.”

“Anyway, we’ve got to go, Lee Jordan reckons he’s found a new secret passageway out of the school.”

“Bet it’s that one behind the statue of Gregory the Smarmy that we found in our first week. See you.”

“First week?” James said, “Very impressive.” Sirius and Remus nodded in agreement. “You just might be worthy of my daughter.”

“Dad!”

Fred and George had hardly disappeared when someone far less welcome turned up: Malfoy, flanked by Crabbe and Goyle.

“Having a last meal, Potter? When are you getting the train back to the Muggles?”

“You’re a lot braver now that you’re back on the ground and you’ve got your little friends with you,” said Aurora coolly. There was of course nothing at all little about Crabbe and Goyle, but as the High Table was full of teachers, neither of them could do more than crack their knuckles and scowl.

“I’d take you on anytime on my own,” said Malfoy. “Tonight, if you want. Wizard’s duel. 

“DRACO!” Amice, Lucius and Narcissa yelled. Amice scooted away from him on their seat.

“Are you insane,” Narcissa continued. “Do you know the consequences that could happen because of a wizard’s duel?”

“Why would you risk yourself like that?” Lucius continued. Draco hung his head, his parents were correct and for weeks his magic suffered because of what he did. He’s pretty sure the only reason he didn’t lose his magic altogether is that Ron agreed to the duel and not Aurora. 

Wands only — no contact. What’s the matter? Never heard of a wizard’s duel before, I suppose?”

She had read about them, and was honestly surprised that Malfoy was suggesting one, they were very dangerous and could have serious consequences. She was just about to decline, when Ron swallowed his food.

“Of course she has,” said Ron, wheeling around. “I’m her second, who’s yours?”

“Ronald!” Molly and Arthur shouted this time. “You do not agree to a duel for someone else!”

“Do you know what could have happened to Aurora?” Fabian said.

“What could have happened to you as well, as you not only agreed for her, but agreed to be her second as well,” Gideon continued.

Malfoy looked at Crabbe and Goyle, sizing them up.

“Crabbe,” he said. “Midnight all right? We’ll meet you in the trophy room; that’s always unlocked.”

When Malfoy had gone, Ron and Aurora looked at each other.

“Why would you agree to that for me?” said Aurora. “And what do you mean, you’re my second.”

“Well, a second’s there to take over if you die,” said Ron casually, getting started at last on his cold pie. Misinterpreting the look on Aurora’s face, he added quickly, “But people only die in proper duels, you know, with real wizards. The most you and Malfoy’ll be able to do is send sparks at each other. Neither of you knows enough magic to do any real damage. 

“I would have been able to do more than shoot sparks,” Draco grumbled softly, not wanting to draw attention to himself.

I bet he expected you to refuse, anyway.”

“I was going to refuse,” Aurora grumbled, pushing her food away no longer hungry. “And what if I wave my wand and nothing happens?” 

“Throw it away and punch him on the nose,” Ron suggested. It was obvious that Ron didn’t know much about wizard duels, she had no desire to lose her magic because he agreed to a duel when she knew very little magic still. She was going to have to do some reading tonight of her more advanced books and hope for the best.

“Magic would have realized your age and would punish accordingly,” Sirius explained. “You wouldn’t have lost your magic for this duel. At most it would be sluggish for a week or so, and every time you cast you would have felt a large drain on your reserves.”

Draco just nodded, that is what happened to him after all.

“Excuse me.”

They both looked up. It was Hermione Granger.

“Can’t a person eat in peace in this place?” said Ron.

Hermione ignored him and spoke to Aurora.

“I couldn’t help overhearing what you and Malfoy were saying —”

“Bet you could,” Ron muttered.

“— and you mustn’t go wandering around the school at night, think of the points you’ll lose Gryffindor if you’re caught, and you’re bound to be. It’s really very selfish of you.”

“Oh Hermione,” Lily said. “You need to read more than your school books.”

“Aurora explained to me later what would have happened if she hadn’t gone after Ron had agreed to the duel for her.” Hermione blushed though, because there were times in later years where Hermione acted the same way about things, she didn’t bother looking up any information about something, and refused to acknowledge that anyone knew more than her on the subject, take her house elf campaign for example.

“And it’s really none of your business,” said Aurora.

“Good-bye,” said Ron.

All the same, it wasn’t what you’d call the perfect end to the day, Aurora thought, as she lay awake much later listening to Lily, Lavender and Pavarti falling asleep. Neville was still in the Hospital Wing during dinner so she took him dessert that they enjoyed together. 

“He was so mad at Ron,” Aurora laughed. Neville glared at Ron at the reminder.

Ron had spent the rest of the evening giving her advice such as “If he tries to curse you, you’d better dodge it, because I can’t remember how to block them.” Aurora had spent the rest of the night ignoring Ron’s advice and reading all of her spell books.

There was a very good chance they were going to get caught by Filch or Mrs. Norris, and Aurora felt she was pushing her luck, breaking another school rule today. 

“We would have understood Miss Potter,” Flitwick said.

“If you would have let me explain before taking a bunch of points maybe,” Aurora mumbled to Ron and Hermione.

On the other hand, Malfoy’s sneering face kept looming up out of the darkness — taunting her about her parents, and her lack of letters — this was her big chance to beat Malfoy face-to-face. She couldn’t miss it.

At half-past eleven, Aurora met Ron at the bottom of the stairs of their dormitory tower. They quickly greeted each other, before continuing down to the common room. A few embers were still glowing in the fireplace, turning all the armchairs into hunched black shadows. They had almost reached the portrait hole when a voice spoke from the chair nearest them, “I can’t believe you’re going to do this, Aurora.”

A lamp flickered on. It was Hermione Granger, wearing a pink bathrobe and a frown.

“You!” said Ron furiously. “Go back to bed!”

“I almost told your brother,” Hermione snapped, “Percy — he’s a prefect, he’d put a stop to this.” 

Aurora doubted that if she told Percy the situation he would have issued any punishments. In fact he probably would have accompanied them. 

“Then why didn’t you tell him,” Lily and Molly exclaimed.

“I honestly didn’t even think of telling him until Hermione mentioned it.”

Aurora couldn’t believe anyone could be so interfering.

“Come on,” she said to Ron. She pushed open the portrait of the Fat Lady and climbed through the hole. 

Hermione wasn’t going to give up that easily. She followed Ron through the portrait hole, hissing at them like an angry goose. As the portrait was swinging closed, Aurora caught a glimpse of Fred and George hiding in a shadowed corner of the common room, their heads together, Fred was watching the trio while George was looking at a piece of parchment.

“You heard Malfoy issue the challenge didn’t you,” Remus asked Fred.

“We had barely made it 10 feet before Draco came over to Ray,” Fred explained. “After what we heard about the flying lesson we knew he would try something, we just weren’t expecting him to issue a duel, or our lovely little brother to accept on Ray’s behalf.” He shook his head, exasperated. “We let Percy know, and we think he told McGonagall, but we also let him know that we would keep an eye on her.”

“But you stayed in the common room,” Peter challenged.

“We did,” Fred said, smirking.

“Don’t you care about Gryffindor, do you only care about yourselves, I don’t want Slytherin to win the house cup, and you’ll lose all the points I got from Professor McGonagall for knowing about Switching Spells.”

“Go away.” Aurora was getting very upset with the girl now. 

“How are you guys such good friends?” Marlene asked. She was getting very curious as to how they seemed so close when they couldn’t seem to stand Hermione. 

Aurora leaned over Fred, and while marking his place in the book, flipped the pages, “Next chapter,” she said.

She was so focused on the points system that she failed to realize that because she had ‘agreed’ to this duel, magic could see fit to take away her magic or punish her in some other way if she didn’t show up and try her best. She was formally challenged after all, there were several witnesses and second’s had been chosen.

“All right, but I warned you, you just remember what I said when you’re on the train home tomorrow, you’re so —”

But what they were, they didn’t find out. Hermione had turned to the portrait of the Fat Lady to get back inside and found herself facing an empty painting. The Fat Lady had gone on a nighttime visit and Hermione was locked out of Gryffindor tower.

“Now what am I going to do?” she asked shrilly.

“That’s your problem,” said Ron. “We’ve got to go, we’re going to be late.”

They hadn’t even reached the end of the corridor when Hermione caught up with them.

“I’m coming with you,” she said.

“You are not.”

“D’you think I’m going to stand out here and wait for Filch to catch me? If he finds all three of us I’ll tell him the truth, that I was trying to stop you, and you can back me up.”

“You could have just gone to McGonagall’s room, she has an override password that doesn’t require the Fat Lady to be in the frame for the portrait to open.”

Hermione just gaped at James. She had not known that.

“You’ve got some nerve —” said Ron loudly.

“Shut up, both of you!” said Aurora sharply. “I heard something.”

It was a sort of snuffling.

“Mrs. Norris?” breathed Ron, squinting through the dark. 

It wasn’t Mrs. Norris. It was Neville. He was curled up on the floor, fast asleep, but jerked suddenly awake as they crept nearer.

“Neville!” Aurora exclaimed softly. She felt better seeing her brother.

“Thank goodness you found me! I’ve been out here for hours, I couldn’t remember the new password to get in to bed.”

“You were waiting for her weren’t you,” Alice said, looking proudly at her son.

Neville nodded, “I knew she wouldn’t take me with her, not wanting me to get in trouble, so I waited outside for her, knowing that if I was already out she would have to take me with her. I talked to the Fat Lady while waiting. She agreed to leave her portrait when she saw Aurora leave.”

Aurora looked at Neville as if she had never seen him before, before a radiant smile spread across her face. “You did that for me?”

“You’re my sister.”

“Keep your voice down, Neville. The password’s ‘Pig snout’ but it won’t help you now, the Fat Lady’s gone off somewhere.”

“How’s your arm?” said Aurora.

“Fine,” said Neville, showing them. “Madam Pomfrey mended it in about a minute.”

Ron started pulling on Aurora’s arm, “Good — well, look, Neville, we’ve got to be somewhere, we’ll see you later —”

“Don’t leave me!” said Neville, scrambling to his feet, “I don’t want to stay here alone, the Bloody Baron’s been past twice already.”

“You’re totally playing it up,” Frank laughed.

“How are you not in Slytherin with those skills,” Regulus asked.

“They are focused on protecting my friends, not for personal gain.” Several of the Slytherins nodded in understanding.

Ron looked at his watch and then glared furiously at Hermione and Neville.

“If either of you get us caught, I’ll never rest until I’ve learned that Curse of the Bogies Quirrell told us about, and used it on you.”

Ginny perked up, “I can teach you Ron.” She was tapping her wand on her thigh.

Ron shrunk back, “I know it now.”

The Marauders watched the byplay curiously.

“Her bat-bogey hex is nothing to scoff at,” Luna said. “No one wants to be on the receiving end of it.”

Hermione opened her mouth, perhaps to tell Ron exactly how to use the Curse of the Bogies, but Aurora hissed at her to be quiet and beckoned them all forward.

They flitted along corridors striped with bars of moonlight from the high windows. At every turn Aurora expected to run into Filch or Mrs. Norris, but they were lucky. They sped up a staircase to the third floor and tiptoed toward the trophy room.

Malfoy and Crabbe weren’t there yet. The crystal trophy cases glimmered where the moonlight caught them. Cups, shields, plates, and statues winked silver and gold in the darkness. They edged along the walls, keeping their eyes on the doors at either end of the room. Aurora took out her wand in case Malfoy leapt in and started at once. The minutes crept by.

“He’s late, maybe he’s chickened out,” Ron whispered.

“No,” Lucius said, quietly and ashamed. “My son would never issue a duel and then not show up. My son would know better, and know what could happen to him if he did this.” He and Narcissa were looking at Draco so disappointedly.

Draco had nothing to say. He did do that. He did something even worse actually. He used a supposed duel to get someone in trouble for breaking rules. He was very lucky he just got off with lethargy and no reserves for a couple weeks. If he had been any older magic’s punishment could have been much worse.

Then a noise in the next room made them jump. Aurora had only just raised her wand when they heard someone speak — and it wasn’t Malfoy.

“Sniff around, my sweet, they might be lurking in a corner.”

It was Filch speaking to Mrs. Norris. Horror-struck, Aurora waved madly at the other three to follow her as quickly as possible; they scurried silently toward the door, away from Filch’s voice. Neville’s robes had barely whipped round the corner when they heard Filch enter the trophy room.

“They’re in here somewhere,” they heard him mutter, “probably hiding.”

Amice just stood up and went to sit with Neville, Luna and Ginny, their couch extending just a little to fit her, while the loveseat she was sitting on with Draco shrunk to the size of an armchair; making it clear that she did not intend to return for quite a while. She didn’t say anything to Draco, and that was a worse punishment for him then if she had yelled at him.

“This way!” Aurora mouthed to the others and, petrified, they began to creep down a long gallery full of suits of armor. They could hear Filch getting nearer. Neville suddenly let out a frightened squeak and broke into a run - he tripped, grabbed Ron around the waist, and the pair of them toppled right into a suit of armor.

The clanging and crashing were enough to wake the whole castle.

“Oh,” Alice exclaimed, “I wish you didn’t inherit all my clumsiness.”

“I’m much better around the middle of fourth year.”

“RUN!” Aurora yelled, and the four of them sprinted down the gallery, not looking back to see whether Filch was following — they swung around the doorpost and galloped down one corridor then another, Aurora in the lead, without any idea where they were or where they were going — they ripped through a tapestry and found themselves in a hidden passageway, hurtled along it and came out near their Charms classroom, which they knew was miles from the trophy room.

“I think we’ve lost him,” Aurora panted, leaning against the cold wall and wiping her forehead.

Neville was bent double, wheezing and spluttering.

“I —told — you,” Hermione gasped, clutching at the stitch in her chest, “I — told — you.”

“Wait until you are back in the Common Room to lecture them and tell them ‘I told you so’,” Remus chided. “They won’t pay attention to you while they are still worried about being caught.”

Hermione nodded in agreement, smiling. She had learned that lesson rather quickly - lecture after the rule breaking was over.

“We’ve got to get back to Gryffindor tower,” said Ron, “quickly as possible.”

“Malfoy tricked you,” Hermione said to Aurora. “You realize that, don’t you? He was never going to meet you — Filch knew someone was going to be in the trophy room, Malfoy must have tipped him off.”

Aurora thought she was probably right, but she wasn’t going to tell her that. She also couldn’t wait to see what punishment Malfoy faced for not even showing up to the duel that he issued the challenge for. 

“I was sluggish for weeks,” Draco said. “I could barely cast anything, and what I did manage was so underpowered Goyle was getting better results.”

“I wasn’t even going to accept the duel,” Aurora snapped. “But once it was accepted I had no choice or I could face a magical punishment for breaking an agreement. You read enough books, learn this next.” Aurora was done with her attitude today. She was trying to be nice to Hermione, she knew what it was like to not have friends, but sometimes she made it so hard on Aurora to be nice. 

“I learned all I could about magical agreements after this,” Hermione said.

“Too bad you didn’t look up contracts,” Neville and Fred grunted.

“Let’s go,” Aurora added, ignoring the astonishment on all the others' faces. She waved everyone to follow her.

It wasn’t going to be that simple. They hadn’t gone more than a dozen paces when a doorknob rattled and something came shooting out of a classroom in front of them.

It was Peeves. 

“Depending on how you handle this he can either be a huge help,” James started.

“Or a huge hindrance,” Sirius finished.

He caught sight of them and gave a squeal of delight.

“Shut up, Peeves — please — you’ll get us thrown out.” 

Peeves cackled. 

“Wandering around at midnight, Ickle Firsties? Tut, tut, tut. Naughty, naughty, you’ll get caughty.”

“Not if you don’t give us away, Peeves, please.”

“Should tell Filch, I should,” said Peeves in a saintly voice, but his eyes glittered wickedly. “It’s for your own good, you know.”

“Get out of the way,” snapped Ron, taking a swipe at Peeves this was a big mistake.

“A very big mistake,” All the Marauders plus Fabian and Gideon said, cringing.

“STUDENTS OUT OF BED!” Peeves bellowed, “STUDENTS OUT OF BED DOWN THE CHARMS CORRIDOR!”

Ducking under Peeves, they ran for their lives, right to the end of the corridor where they slammed into a door — and it was locked.

“This is it!” Ron moaned, as they pushed helplessly at the door, “We’re done for! This is the end!”

They could hear footsteps, Filch running as fast as he could toward Peeves’s shouts.

“Oh, move over,” Hermione snarled. She grabbed Aurora’s wand, tapped the lock, and whispered, “Alohomora!”

“You used Aurora’s wand,” Pandora asked. Aurora and Hermione nodded. “You might dislike each other at the moment but allowing another to use your wand without them having won it from you shows great trust.”

The lock clicked and the door swung open — they piled through it, shut it quickly, and pressed their ears against it, listening.

“Which way did they go, Peeves?” Filch was saying. “Quick, tell me.”

“Say ‘please.’”

“Don’t mess with me, Peeves, now where did they go?”

“You managed to get away, Peeves won’t say anything.” Sirius cheered.

“Shan’t say nothing if you don’t say please,” said Peeves in his annoying singsong voice.

“All right —please.”

“NOTHING! Ha haaa! Told you I wouldn’t say nothing if you didn’t say please! Ha ha! Haaaaaa!” And they heard the sound of Peeves whooshing away and Filch cursing in rage.

“He thinks this door is locked,” Aurora whispered. “I think we’ll be okay — what’s wrong, Neville!” For Neville had been tugging on the sleeve of Aurora’s bathrobe for the last minute. “What?”

Aurora turned around — and saw, quite clearly, what. For a moment, she was sure she’d walked into a nightmare — this was too much, on top of everything that had happened so far.

“Oh no,” Alice and Lily exclaimed. “What now?”

They weren’t in a room, as she had supposed. They were in a corridor. The forbidden corridor on the third floor. And now they knew why it was forbidden.

They were looking straight into the eyes of a monstrous dog, a dog that filled the whole space between ceiling and floor. It had three heads. Three pairs of rolling, mad eyes; three noses, twitching and quivering in their direction; three drooling mouths, saliva hanging in slippery ropes from yellowish fangs.

“What in the name of Merlin,” James crooked. Lily was hiding in his shoulder while Alice was clutching Frank's arm in a vice grip.

“WHAT ARE YOU THINKING KEEPING A CERBERUS IN A SCHOOL FULL OF CHILDREN!” Sirius shouted. 

Fred continued reading before anyone could say anything else.

It was standing quite still, all six eyes staring at them, and Aurora knew that the only reason they weren’t already dead was that their sudden appearance had taken it by surprise, but it was quickly getting over that, there was no mistaking what those thunderous growls meant.

Aurora groped for the doorknob — between Filch and death, she’d take Filch.

They fell backward — Aurora slammed the door shut, and they ran, they almost flew, back down the corridor. Filch must have hurried off to look for them somewhere else, because they didn’t see him anywhere, but they hardly cared — all they wanted to do was put as much space as possible between them and that monster. They didn’t stop running until they reached the portrait of the Fat Lady on the seventh floor.

“Where on earth have you all been?” she asked, looking at their bathrobes hanging off their shoulders and their flushed, sweaty faces.

“I can bet what she was thinking,” Ted laughed, trying to break some of the tension. Andromeda tried to hide her laugh in a cough.

“Never mind that — pig snout, pig snout,” panted Aurora, and the portrait swung forward. They scrambled into the common room and collapsed, trembling, into armchairs. 

It was a while before any of them said anything. Neville, indeed, looked as if he’d never speak again, Aurora snuggled into his side, hoping to comfort him as well as herself in the process.

“What do they think they’re doing, keeping a thing like that locked up in a school?” said Ron finally. “If any dog needs exercise, that one does.”

Hermione had got both her breath and her bad temper back again. “You don’t use your eyes, any of you, do you?” she snapped. “Didn’t you see what it was standing on?”

“The floor?” Aurora suggested. “I wasn’t looking at its feet, I was too busy with its heads.”

“I saw it too,” Neville said. “I was avoiding looking at its heads so I saw it.”

“No, not the floor. It was standing on a trapdoor. It’s obviously guarding something.”

She stood up, glaring at them.

Neville, Ron and Aurora perked up, and started bouncing in their seats. “Here it comes,” Aurora squealed.

“What?” Columba asked.

“Hermione’s most famous quote,” Ron and Neville answered together.

“Make sure you get the inflection right Fred,” Aurora added.

“Oh for goodness sake,” Hermione sighed.

“I hope you’re pleased with yourselves. We could all have been killed — or worse, expelled. Now, if you don’t mind, I’m going to bed.” Fred read in a scarily close approximation of Hermione’s voice.

Lily, Alice, Marlene and Remus stared at the girl for a moment. Remus finally broke first, “Getting expelled is worse than being killed?”

Ron stared after her, his mouth open.

“No, we don’t mind,” he said. “You’d think we dragged her along, wouldn’t you.”

But Hermione had given Aurora something else to think about as she climbed back into bed. The dog was guarding something… What had Hagrid said? Gringotts was the safest place in the world for something you wanted to hide — except perhaps Hogwarts.

It looked as though Aurora had found out where the grubby little package from vault seven hundred and thirteen was. 

Aurora also hadn’t missed that the Weasley twins had left the common room as soon as they saw everyone was back safely.

“But why is something being hidden in the school,” Amos asked, he was very worried about his children.

“We find out later in the year,” Ron answered.

“Shall we eat,” Aurora asked, getting up and heading towards the kitchen again, not waiting for anyone to answer her.

As the last person left the room, a small pop heralded the arrival of someone new. “Oh thank Merlin,” the person in the room said at the new arrival.