A New Dawn at Hogwarts

Chapter Fifty-one: Truth or Fiction?

A/N: Thanks to my awesome beta, to2llyuntraceable, who made me realize that sometimes, you need a little more fluff to balance out the angst.

Aurora woke to more voices in the sitting room. By the time she reached it, the door to the hall was closing, whoever had been visiting already gone.

Her father gripped the back of the armchair, staring at the door. He spun when she cleared her throat, his eyes glittering with—were those tears? He dropped to his knees in front of her and placed his hand on the side of her neck, his thumb tracing the line of her jaw.

Her heart plummeted. This was not like him at all. Was this another vision? Was he about to tell her something had happened to Malichi, or to Steven? "Father? What is it?"

"It's over." His voice broke, a huskiness present that Aurora wasn't used to. "You don't have to be afraid anymore."

Breath caught in her throat, and her heart skipped a beat. "How do you know?"

"Professor Dumbledore has just left. The Aurors found Nicole Cafferty's body early this morning."

Aurora's blood chilled, remembering the previous night's vision. Or had it been real? "How did she die?" she whispered.

He shook his head. "It's unclear right now. But she can't hurt you again."

"No," Aurora said, stepping back.

He frowned. "No?"

"This is another vision, another trick. If I believe it, it's just going to turn into something terrible."

The frown softened. "This is no vision." He reached out and took her hands. His eyes held hers as he gently squeezed her hands. "You're free of her."

And then he did something he'd never done, not once that Aurora could remember. He pulled her into an embrace, almost knocking the wind out of her with the force of the hug.

"You're free of her," he said again. He rested his cheek against her hair, one hand held against the back of her head.

A sob escaped from Aurora's throat, and her father's arms closed around her even tighter. She wanted to believe him, but she'd trusted visions like these before. They always ended badly. And this was too surreal. She pushed away from him, wiping her eyes on her sleeve. Her father's face pulled into a puzzled frown.

"This isn't real," she whispered. "My father would never..." her voice trailed off.

He closed his eyes, his shoulders sagging. When he opened them again, Aurora thought she saw a flicker of regret. It was gone before she could be certain.

"No," he said. "I suppose I wouldn't. But I assure you, this is real." He sighed, standing when Aurora stayed where she was. "Maybe by the end of the day, you'll let yourself believe it."

But Aurora knew she wouldn't make it to the end of the day without something catastrophic happening. The visions never lasted that long.

Severus forced back a curse as he surveyed the angry red marks on Aurora's back. They were no longer open wounds, but they were still more pronounced than he would have liked. She flinched when the rag touched her back, and his frown deepened.

"That hurts?"

"Not really."

"Aurora. We've been over this. If you're in pain—"

"I told you. It always hurts right when I wake up. Poking at it doesn't help."

"And yet, it's a necessary part of applying the salve," he said. "Is the pain sharp?"