Till Forever Falls Apart

12 Grimmauld Place,
Christmas Break,
Winter, 1978

The candlelight flickered in Aurora's dimly lit room, casting erratic shadows against the walls as she paced restlessly, muttering under her breath. Her hair was a mess from how often she had run her fingers through it in frustration, her nerves stretched thin.

"What is it? What is it?" she groaned, tugging lightly at her roots as she stared at the floating mass of parchment, notes, and theories she had gathered over the last few months.

Somewhere, hidden beneath layers of deception and secrecy, was Voldemort's greatest weapon—the thing that made him believe he was invincible. And Aurora Black was determined to uncover it.

For months, she had infiltrated his ranks, careful and methodical, playing the part she had been forced into by her family. She had watched, listened, and waited, clinging to every whispered conversation and fragmented clue. She was close, she knew it. The answer was right in front of her, just waiting to be pieced together.

Her eyes darted to the worn book lying open on her bed—Magick Moste Evile.

The name had come up in hushed whispers. A powerful, terrible magic. And Aurora knew that her mother kept this very book in the Black family library. She had stolen it days ago, desperately hoping it would hold the answers she sought.

She picked it up again, flipping feverishly through the pages, her lips pressed into a tight line.

A sudden knock at her door made her freeze.

Her breath caught in her throat.

It was two in the morning. Their Christmas dinner had ended hours ago. Everyone should have been asleep. So why was someone awake? And knocking on her door?

Another knock, firmer this time.

Aurora panicked. "Just a second!" she called, voice steadier than she felt.

With a wave of her hand, the floating parchments and books soared back into her trunk, the lid slamming shut and locking itself in place. She took a deep breath, steeling herself, before she unlocked and cracked open the door.

Regulus stood there, eyes wide and frantic.

"Reggie?" she whispered, immediately pulling him inside before shutting the door. "What's wrong? What happened?"

He was shaking, looking over his shoulder as if expecting someone to be listening in. "Cast a Muffliato. Now."

Aurora didn't hesitate. She flicked her hand, the air around them humming briefly as the spell settled over the room. She turned back to him, concern etched into her features. "Reggie, what—"

"I found it," he whispered, voice barely audible. "I found out what the Dark Lord's secret weapon is."

Aurora's breath hitched. "What?"

Regulus ran a hand through his hair, his entire body thrumming with nervous energy. "He took Kreacher somewhere. Said he needed elf magic. Kreacher barely made it back alive. But he told me everything. The cave, the potion, the locket..." Regulus swallowed hard, meeting her gaze. "Aurora, he's making himself immortal."

Aurora felt the world tilt beneath her feet. She stumbled back, gripping the edge of her desk for support. "No," she breathed, rushing to her trunk and throwing it open, shuffling through the stuff and flipping open Magick Moste Evile with shaking hands. She skimmed the pages frantically, her vision blurring.

And then she found it.

Her fingers trembled over the aged parchment as she read the horrifying description.

She looked up at Regulus, voice barely a whisper. "He made a Horcrux."

***

The rest of the holidays passed in a blur of stolen whispers and desperate planning. Aurora and Regulus had worked tirelessly, poring over everything they had gathered. If Voldemort could make one Horcrux, what was stopping him from making more?

They needed answers. And they needed them fast.

Even after Regulus returned to Hogwarts, the two of them exchanged cryptic letters, meeting in secret whenever they could. They pieced together scraps of information, careful not to raise suspicion. It was dangerous—suicidal, even—but neither of them could walk away now.

And finally, after two months, they had a list.

***

Muggle London,
Sometime around March,
Spring, 1979

Aurora sighed, looking up at James as they walked side by side through a quiet, moonlit park. It had been weeks since they had last seen each other, both too consumed by their respective missions.

Tonight, though, they had stolen a few precious hours for themselves. Dinner had been wonderful, filled with laughter and warmth. Now, they simply strolled, fingers intertwined, breathing in the crisp night air.

"James," she murmured, squeezing his hand.

He turned to her, his hazel eyes soft and full of love. "Yeah, love?"

She hesitated before asking, "Do you think I could... stay the night with you?"

James tilted his head, wrapping his arm around her shoulder to pull her closer. "Of course, love. You never have to ask." His expression turned playful. "Though, what about your terrifying mother?"

Aurora smiled faintly, playing with his fingers. "I'll make up an excuse."

James studied her carefully. "You've been distracted all night. This is the third time I'm asking—are you okay?"

Aurora gave him the same answer she had all night. "It will be fine. Everything will be fine."

James didn't look convinced, but he let it go, simply pressing a kiss to the top of her head before they apparated away.

Hours later, James was asleep beside her, his arms wrapped around her waist, holding her close. His soft snores filled the quiet room, a soothing rhythm against the storm raging in her mind.

Aurora lay there, tracing his features with her eyes—his unruly hair, the faint freckles across his nose, the way his lips parted slightly as he slept. She memorized her detail, every freckle, every scar, wanting to imprint his beautiful face in her mind.

A tear slipped down her cheek.

She reached out, brushing her fingers along his cheek. "Oh, James," she whispered. "I wish we had more time."

Her throat tightened. "Maybe God didn't abandon me... Maybe he was busy creating you for me—so full of life and laughter. Maybe he sent his brightest person to me, to bring me happiness and love. To soothe my pain."

She leaned forward, pressing a lingering kiss to his forehead. "I love you," she breathed, her voice breaking. "More than the stars in every universe."

Then, with one last glance at the man she loved more than anything, Aurora slipped out of his arms, out of his house, and into the dark, never once looking back.