—————A—————

"Mr. Potter," Professor Snape drawled as he approached their group in study hall. "Kindly tell your mutt of a godfather that I do not take kindly to playing messenger. I am not an owl." He tossed Harry a folded piece of parchment, then turned away with an air of such great annoyance that it even made Aurora frown.

"He can still be a right git sometimes," Harry muttered.

"And you can be incredibly thick, but mother always told me it was rude to point out the flaws of others," Draco said without looking up from his essay.

Harry smiled sheepishly, his cheeks pinking a bit. "So, what you're saying is you didn't listen to your mother for a long time," Harry commented as he opened the letter.

"Oh, I listened, doesn't mean I heeded the advice," Draco countered.

Ginny and Aurora exchanged a glance, both wondering if the two boys would ever realize how often they bantered like that.

Harry opened the letter and scanned it over. He frowned, then chuckled, frowned again, then lowered the letter and stared off in the direction of a group of Ravenclaws.

Aurora and the others kept trying to see what he was staring at. There was a group of Ravenclaw girls, Cho Chang among them, all whispering and gesturing in a way Aurora had seen Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil do in the common room. Except, of course, they kept stealing glances at a completely oblivious Harry.

"Bad form to go after Cedric's girl," Draco sneered, snapping Harry out of his thoughts.

"What?" he said, looking at Draco. He shook his head. "No, not interested in Cho. Not like that. I was just... well, here, read it."

He handed the letter to Draco, and because she was beside him, Aurora rested her head on his shoulder to read it. Neville, who was on her other side, scooted a bit closer, while Luna mimicked Aurora and rested against Draco's other side.

Harry,

I have to say, I agree with Hermione's suggestion. It may be quiet now, but it won't stay that way for long. It's clear that Fudge is using Umbridge to further his standing. He's clearly operating under the assumption that if there's no Voldemort, then there's no need to teach you to defend yourselves. But you do. It looks like Fudge and other Ministry workers forgot just how bad things got during the First War, and how quickly. Be careful. Remember that you have allies in the school, Order members who want you to be prepared. You know who they are, keep them in the loop.

Mrs. Weasley has told me to let you know that Ron and Ginny should not, under any circumstances, be involved. It could earn them worse than detention, and they are forbidden to take such a risk. She has also tried to persuade me to do the same and has even tried to convince Mrs. Snape to talk to Aurora and Draco. Don't worry; Molly is quite outnumbered. Still, pass on the message.

Now, I know you have a Hogsmeade weekend soon. I'd like to meet you at the Three Broomsticks. There's something I want to show you.

Good luck with your class, Harry. And be careful.

Yours,

Sirius

"I'm not quite sure why your mind wandered after reading this," Draco said as he handed the letter back. Harry handed it off to the Weasley siblings.

"I wouldn't have thought anyone in the Order would approve of this. And he brings up people at the school. Like who? Dumbledore?"

"McGonagall?" Ginny suggested.

"My dad," Aurora reminded.

"Can't trust your dad, though, can we?" Ron asked.

"And why not?" Aurora folded her arms. "He brought the letter, didn't he?"

"Well, yeah, but he's still a git. And he might say he's—"

"Shut it," Harry said suddenly. Ron had started to get louder, and while no one was paying attention yet, it would do no good for them if someone heard them talking about this. "Just shut it about Snape. Yes, he can be a git. Yes, he's a bit greasy—no offense Rory—, but he's on our side. Okay?"

Ron shifted in discomfort, glancing around at the rest of them before he petulantly grumbled, "Bloody well isn't."

"Oh, shut it, Weasel," Aurora huffed before getting up and leaving.

Her father glanced at her as she marched past a table of Slytherins. He was helping one of them and was unable to pull himself away. He gave her a slight nod, permitting her leave, and she nodded back.

She had been absolutely right, the truce between Ron and Draco didn't extend past convincing Harry to teach. And with the Slytherins becoming the High Inquisitor's favorite house, earning less detentions and less reprimands than the rest, Draco was an easy source for Ron's irritation. So was Professor Snape. Because there weren't any other Slytherins in the Order, and because Ron knew her father had the Dark Mark, he was always quick to say he couldn't be trusted.

She was getting bloody sick of it, and the school year had only just begun.

"Oi, Snape," she heard Fred Weasley call, and she stopped immediately.

"Yes, Weasley?" she snapped, and Fred gave her a devilish grin that she didn't like that she enjoyed.

"Cheeky today, are we?" he said, putting his hands in his pockets. "My brother isn't giving you a hard time, is he?"

"I can handle Ronald," she replied, adjusting her bag on her shoulder. "Is that all you were doing? Making sure your brother wasn't being a bigger prat than usual?"

"Or I could say I missed our talks?"

"What talks?"

"Exactly. I thought we could sit down and have a chat sometime. Like, maybe, next weekend at the Three Broomsticks."

Her eyes widened, and she could feel her cheeks warm even though she was desperately trying to make them stop. She swallowed the giddy squeal that tried to worm its way out her throat and squared her shoulders.

"I was planning on going with Harry to meet Sirius," she said quietly, because anything above a whisper would result in her voice squeaking.

He shrugged. "Can't take the whole day, can it?"

She shook her head.

"So whaddya say?"

She should say no, and do it in some cheeky, flirty way. But Merlin help her, she couldn't think of anything witty in that moment. Nothing sly, nothing terribly charming. Bloody hell, it was all she could do not to dissolve into a fit of girly shrieks, and she would never lower herself to sound like Lavender Brown.

"Okay," she managed.

"Excellent," Fred beamed, and she did that. She brought that big, bright smile to his face. "You know, I've also been meaning to ask why you didn't go for Keeper."

Quidditch, she liked Quidditch. Quidditch was a safe topic that helped clear her head. "I'm more Chaser or Beater," she said with a shrug.

"Maybe so, but you'd have done better than ickle Ronniekins," he replied, glancing over his shoulder as George and Lee came out of study hall. "Later, Rory," he said with a wink as he joined them, heading off to who knew where.

Alone in the corridor, Aurora stood stunned for a moment, letting what just happened sink in. Fred Weasley asked her to go with him to Hogsmeade. On a date. It was a date, she knew it was a date because there was no way it wasn't a date. And she said yes. In a moment of stupid weakness, she said yes to the prat, and she couldn't be happier by that slip in intelligence.

The squeal erupted, a quick sound before she suppressed it. She danced, a big stupid grin on her face as she hopped around in circles in an attempt to relieve herself from all the pent-up joy.

A moment later, she stopped, feeling eyes on her.

Her father stood watching her, utterly expressionless except for one arched eyebrow. Blushing, she adjusted her bag, fixed her hair, and left.

She did catch the flash of a smirk on his face when she glanced over her shoulder. It was gone in a moment, but at least she knew she hadn't disappointed her father too much.

Although now she knew he would never let her forget this.

While nearly all the other students went to other stores, Harry and co. headed straight to the Three Broomsticks the moment they arrived in the village, the twins and Lee with them. Well, Aurora knew why Fred was coming, but she figured that until they broke off for their rendezvous, he didn't mind George and Lee coming.

It was quiet upon entering, the locals out of the village since the students were expected. Tucked into the corner, hands wrapped around a pint of something Aurora would wager was not butterbeer, were Sirius and Professor Lupin.

"Remus!" Harry exclaimed, running to them. He slowed and stopped before he could fly into either of them, and bashfully sat across from them.

"How are you, Harry?" Lupin said with a grin.

"Could be better," he admitted as the rest of them sat around the table. "Did Sirius tell you what Hermione suggested?"

There was a sadness to Lupin's grin, and he took a moment to reply. "Yes. I admit I'm a bit worried about that prospect of you trying to teach spells to others your age. But if what you've told Sirius is true, then it might be necessary. And from what I've heard from friends in the Ministry, Dolores Umbridge is ..."

"A right toad?" Ron suggested, chuckling at his own quip.

"Quite." Remus nodded.

"So, what did you want to show me?" Harry asked.

"Well," Sirius said, reaching into his pocket, "it's actually something you'd all be interested in." He set something on the table, tapped it with his wand and an enlarged box appeared on the table. He opened the lid and withdrew a picture. At the same moment, Lupin waved his own wand around. Magic washed over them, and Aurora guessed it was a shield, though it didn't feel anything like the privacy magic her father used.

Sirius looked at the photo in his hand with a warm, somewhat wistful smile, then slid it over to Harry. "The original Order of the Phoenix."

Aurora was only separated from Harry because Draco was sitting between them, so she practically crawled onto Draco's lap to see. Ron was on Harry's other side, and everyone leaned in and over the table to get a good look at the picture.

Harry's eyes misted, and it wasn't surprising once she noticed his parents front and center. He looked so much like his dad that it was surreal. Much like Leo, Harry was a carbon copy of his father, with his mother's eyes.

"Bloody hell, is that Snape?" Ron jabbed the photo, causing the picture version of her father to glare at him.

"Severus was the first of our generation to join the Order," Sirius said, gesturing to the photo. "He was recruited for his skills and creativity. And that led to what he does now."

"Who's that with him?" Harry asked, and Aurora's stomach launched into her throat.

Her mother had her face pressed into her father's shoulder but wasn't completely hidden; she would turn her head on occasion and look at whoever was taking the photo. Her hair was unaltered except that it wasn't so bushy, she was not quite as thin as she had been when she disappeared, but there wasn't enough curve to her to make her look like anyone else. Her eyes gleamed with mischief and intelligence.

"Kitten," Sirius said.

"Who?" Harry asked.

"H. Snape, Severus' ... wife." Lupin seemed to have a hard time getting his mouth to form the word.

"That looks nothing like your mum," Ginny said cautiously, with just a hint of accusation. It was a bit humorous that, at that moment, the picture version of Aurora's parents chose to look at one another with adoration.

"She frequently uses a special Glamour Severus developed for her. That way, she could dine with a certain kind of company one night and hex them the next without Severus needing to worry about his cover. This is what she really looks like," Sirius explained, and Aurora noted the warning look Lupin gave him.

"Mad-Eye," Ron observed. "And you guys. McGonagall..."

"Our parents," Ginny noted.

"My parents," Neville noted sadly.

"The uncles we're named for." Georg pointed at the twins in the picture.

"Are there any Slytherins aside from my uncle?" Draco asked. "Anyone other than Gryffindors?"

Everyone looked at Sirius and Lupin, who exchanged a wary look.

"No. As far as we know, the entire Order was made exclusively of Gryffindor alumni, Severus being the exception," Lupin said.

"Which is why if you go through with this idea, you need to make sure you get the other houses involved. I know your house will be harder to do that with, Draco, but you have to try," Sirius encouraged, looking at each of them quite seriously.

"It's a shame we don't have any Hufflepuff friends," Luna reflected. "We could have simply spread the word in our houses."

"Yeah, but I'm sure there would be some narc that would rat us out to the toad," Ginny grumbled. "I mean, can we really trust Parvati not to say anything? The other prefects?"

"Stick to the upperclassmen," Sirius suggested.

"Which excludes a third of us here," Aurora pointed out.

"How do we choose?" Ginny asked. "How do we decide who's trustworthy enough?"

"It's easy," Draco said, adopting an air of superiority as he leaned back and looked at them. "We trust the ones who trust Potter. Who believe he's telling the truth. It's more than just us, enough to get a decent Defense class going. And we already know exactly who most of them are simply by who talks about it in the common room."

"Yeah? Bet all the ones who believe in Slytherin do because then they can become junior Death Eaters," Ron sneered.

"Or maybe it's because their families were ruined the first go and now they're terrified of what could happen," Draco shot back.

"I think you all need to set aside your house rivalries and prejudices, start by being better than our generation," Sirius said, tapping the photo.

"And in the meantime, try to come up with a way to ensure you're not going to be sold out if things get tough later," Lupin suggested. "Sirius and I need to go, we can't stay long."

"All right," Harry said, and Aurora felt eyes boring into her. Glancing up, she caught Fred's gaze, and he gestured to the other side of the tavern.

There wasn't all that much stealth to getting up and moving across the room at the same time as one of the Weasley twins. Aurora heard the whispers and faint questions before they got very far.

"Well, that's going to be a bit awkward later," he said with a sheepish grin.

"Well, I wasn't expecting much different," she confessed as she settled into a two-person booth. Fred slid in across from her. "Gin, er, uh, saw the uh, the thing that, uh, happened... last year..." Aurora felt her cheeks grow warmer by the second, and she suddenly found the pepper pot on the table fascinating.

"You mean when I kissed you," Fred said, and Aurora blushed deeper. "I told George, of course. He thought I was mad and said so again when I said you agreed to some with me."

Two butterbeers were placed in front of them, and Fred winked at Rosmerta as he handed her the cost of the drinks.

"How is your business going?" she asked, more amused by it than anything.

Fred cast a Muffliato around them. Aurora glanced around as the soft buzzing surrounded them. She spotted their gang, Harry and Ginny tugging Ron toward the door as he stared incredulously at Aurora and Fred. Draco gave him a shove for good measure.

"Our business is going well. We actually have our sights set on buying a spot in Diagon Alley. Need to earn a bit more first, but we've already got a bit coming in."

"So, starting small, then," she observed, taking a sip of her drink, feeling a bit more relaxed.

"Mail order, me thinks, or at least it'll be when we're no longer at Hogwarts." He glanced around. "You know what you'll do when you're all done this?"

It was an odd question, one no one really ever thought to ask a fourth year. "I'm not sure. Though I've considered doing an apprenticeship with Aun—er—Professor McGonagall."

"Transfiguration? Not going into potions like your dad?"

"Were you ever considering working Muggle relations like your father?" she countered.

Fred smirked as he picked up his drink. "Touché," he said before taking a sip.

The two carried on a casual conversation as they drained their butterbeers, getting to know a bit more about each other. In some ways, Aurora found herself growing more smitten with Fred the more they conversed. In other ways, it made her feel... young. Too young, in fact, to have drawn the attention of a seventh year.

Yes, she knew she was one the oldest in her year, if not the oldest. Ginny had caught the eye of an even older bloke, and no one had batted an eye at the age gap. But hearing him say how he and George weren't even sure if they wanted to sit their N.E.W.T.s, when she hadn't even taken her O.W.L.s, made everything feel daunting.

But he was funny and clever, and despite his jokester nature, there was actually a bit of a seriousness to him. And it really didn't hurt that he was quite handsome.

"Can I ask you something?" he asked as they took a quiet stroll around the village. They'd already gone into Spintwitches, where a hearty discussion of Ballycastle Bats vs Holyhead Harpies was followed by which broom was better for what position. They'd also stopped into Honeydukes, where he'd surprised her by buying her a bag of jelly slugs, her favorites.

"Of course," she replied, offering him one of her slugs in the process.

He chose a yellow one, and she was sure she'd just become more infatuated with him simply for taking her least favorite.

"How have you always been able to tell George and me apart? Even our own mother has trouble sometimes. The only ones who can are Dad, Harry, and your dad."

She considered that for a moment. "I don't know," she admitted. "I mean yes, you're identical, but you ... you aren't absolutely. George has more freckles, and his eyebrows are a bit different. And your face is more... slimmer? I suppose?"

"Been staring at us that much, have you?" he taunted, and she blushed as she laughed.

"No, it's just small things. From a very young age, my father taught me to look at everything, to see all the details. He always stressed that details were important. And while I doubt I'll ever be able to pick up on the things he can, it's helped me a lot. There were twins in the Muggle school I went to, and it was the same there: I could always tell them apart. Even the Patil twins. I mean, yeah, different houses, but when they're in their plain clothes, it's hard to tell them apart."

"So, it's not some sort of connection of the soul? You didn't take one look at my mug and know we were meant to be and all that rot?" he teased, and she blushed again, just as the last had started to fade from her cheeks.

"No. Nothing like that."

"Good," he said, stopping in the street.

"Is it?"

"Yeah," he agreed. "Never been one for any sort of Divination. Quite glad it's because of your brain."

"Is that so?'

"Like a girl with a brain." He quirked a smile, and Aurora wished her blood would not rush to her face every time he paid her any sort of compliment.