Ginny gave an undignified snort. “I'll bring it up as long as I want. I couldn't meet anyone's eyes in the teacher's lounge for the first month of your sixth year.”
James looked as if he wanted the floor to swallow him.
Ginny laughed, seemingly oblivious of the wizards and witches eavesdropping around them in the Atrium. “Well, maybe you can knock some sense into him now that you're in England. He's like Harry was all over again — always has to be the hero, even in training simulations.” Ginny's eyes grew briefly misty before she blinked and gave another laugh. “He could use a friend who's level-headed and pragmatic rather than another Gryffindor like me. I'm always torn between pride and a howler.”
The hollows of James' cheeks were stained scarlet. Aurore gave an awkward, tight-lipped smile and bobbed her head.
An elderly witch nearby cleared her throat. Ginny turned.
“Ginny, I haven't seen you since last month's memorial. How are you, dear?”
Ginny assumed a tight, practiced smile. “Mrs Tutley, I'm doing well — enjoying the summer before school begins. We're expecting a larger first year this September, and James is just finishing his second year of auror training.”
Mrs Tutley nodded, seeming entirely disinterested by Ginny's reply as she studied Aurore through a pair of spectacles. “How lovely. Who's your new friend here?”
Ginny looked over. “Oh... This is Aurore Black. James and I knew her family when we were abroad. She just got a job at Gringotts, so she's going to be staying with us until she's settled in.”
“Aurore Black?” Mrs Tutley's eyes widened, and she peered more carefully at Aurore. “Related to the Ancient House of Black?”
“They immigrated during the First War.” Ginny said in a low voice.
Mrs Tutley's eyes grew rounder, and she said in a stage whisper, “Regulus?”
Ginny's eyebrow twitched, and she gave a non-committal smile. “I wish I could talk, but we've really got to be on our way. Aurore only has a few days before her first day of work, and I promised to give her a tour of Diagon Alley first thing. James, be a gentleman and take Aurore's bag.”
There were many curious eyes that followed little group to the lifts. As the doors slid shut, whispering broke out.
Ginny Weasley had always been intensely private in interviews about who had hidden her and protected James following the death of Harry Potter. The arrival of a family friend from Oceania would set the newspapers abuzz. A Black. Of course. Harry Potter had been a Black godson. It was obvious in retrospect that a branch of the old and reclusive family would have been willing to extend protection to Harry Potter's child, even if they'd been disinclined to join the war itself. Now that the reconstruction upheaval was reaching an end, it was unsurprising that an heir would make an appearance in order to claim the languishing family seat.
There were several owls posted to New Zealand's school of witchcraft and wizardry, making casual inquiries about a recent graduate.
Aurore was seemingly oblivious of the attention as she walked through Diagon Alley. Ginny Weasley was acting as a cheerful tour guide while James brought up the rear, alternating between eyeing his childhood friend and shooting cheeky grins at anyone he caught staring openly.
Ginny was pointing out a new restaurant when a middle-aged woman bumped into Aurore and then froze, reaching out and gripping Aurore's arm tightly. “Herm—!”
Aurore turned to stare at the stranger.
The woman cut herself off, snatching back her hand and pressing it against her chest for a moment. She had several porcelain-plated prosthetic fingers. “No. No, of course not. I'm sorry. You're not. For a moment you reminded me of someone I knew once.”
Ginny turned, and a flicker of something appeared in her eyes.
“Angelina,” she said in a soft voice after a moment's hesitation, “this is Aurore Black, I lived with her family after Harry's death, when I was pregnant with James.”
Angelina stared at Aurore for a moment longer before looking over to Ginny, her shoulders drooping.
She looked back to Aurore. “Oh. It's nice to meet you,” her voice was wistful. “I hope I didn't scare you, grabbing you like that. I was just shocked. She looks a little like Hermione did, don't you think?”
Aurore's expression was blank; she looked towards Ginny.
Ginny stared at Aurore as though she were trying to see what Angelina was referring to. “Oh, yes. I think it's her mouth, maybe?” Ginny glanced at Angelina and then back towards Aurore with a serious expression. “Hermione Granger. She was a school friend of ours. She died in 2005, during the post-war imprisonment, prior to the Liberation.”
“Oh,” Aurore said before looking at Angelina. “I'm sorry for your loss.”
Angelina stared at Aurore for a moment longer before nodding and turning away.
Ginny led the way to Flourish and Blotts. “This,” she said in a low voice, “was your mum's favourite shop.”
“Of course,” Aurore said, her eyes glittering.
The bookstore was quiet. The back-to-school crush was not yet in full swing, and buyers were sedate and browsing quietly.
There was a large display of thick books just inside the entrance.
A Comprehensive History of the Second Wizarding War by Orpheus Bagshot.
Aurore paused, staring at the books for a moment before reaching out and picking up a copy.
“Just released this week,” said a helpful clerk who was standing nearby, eyeing the book in her hands.
“I didn't recognise the title, I thought it must be.” Aurore flipped the book open to peruse the chapter index.
“Oh. You're not from around here, are you? Not South African or Australian. You from New Zealand?” The clerk said, eyeing Aurore with greater interest.
“I went to school there,” Aurore said in a vague tone as she ran her fingers along the chapter titles. Her index finger paused briefly along the way.
“Well, if you're wanting a history of the war, this is — definitively, the best one out there. I read it in one go, didn't sleep. Absolute zombie here at work the next day, but it was worth it. Orpheus is brilliant with words — related to Bathilda Bagshot who wrote History of Magic and Hogwarts: A History.”
Aurore arched an eyebrow and nodded. The clerk seemed to take it as a sign of encouragement and stepped closer. “He spent more than ten years on it. Got special permission from the Ministry to access all the records from the war, even trial transcripts that weren't public yet. It's shocking stuff. Some of the sections, I wouldn't recommend reading if your stomach isn't strong. But — if you want to know what happened. This is the book that'll tell you. It's all there. Everything people should know.”
“Do you?” Aurore asked.
The clerk looked uncertain.
“Know everything that people should know about the war?” Aurore said in clarification.
The clerk looked uncomfortable. “Well — for me it's hard not to. I was born in 2005, one of — that generation. The trials went on for years while they tried to figure out what to do with all of us.”
“I'm sorry.”
The boy cleared his throat. “Anyway. Reading that — helps put it all in perspective.”
Aurore looked down at the book in her hands. “I'll check it out. I grew up outside of Europe, but we heard stories. You can't really not hear the stories.”
The clerk nodded.
Aurore tucked the book under her arm and wandered further into the bookshop. Once she was in an empty aisle, she quickly flipped the book open to its index and ran her finger through until she found the chapter title she wanted. Page 186.