Corvus, meaning 'crow' in Latin, stands on the tail of the Hydra constellation. In Greek mythology, a white crow told Apollo of his lover Coronis' infidelity. In a fit of rage, he scorched the crow's feather's black.

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As the days passed, the atmosphere at Hogwarts became duller and duller. Chatter in the corridors and the Great Hall - now rebuilt - was almost non-existent, especially with the Carrows constantly looming around.

Students reserved conversations for the common rooms and dormitories, and even still, spoke in hushed voices, as if someone could be listening in just around the corner.

Her fellow DA members had resorted to painting the walls with opposition slogans, some angry and inspiring, some blunt and crude, like 'Carrows suck arse'.

On one occasion, Angel, together with Hannah, Seamus, and Lee, set off dungbombs outside the Carrows' office just to piss them off.

These all earned them punishment on more than one occasion. Michael and Terry were used as 'demonstration' for the Cruciatus curse during Dark Arts by Amycus Carrow. Neville became more and more outspoken against the two Death Eaters, constantly rebutting them and ruffling their feathers. Once, they'd found his arms covered in cuts and bruises, but he didn't say how he'd gotten them. Almost all of the DA members served detention on a weekly basis.

After a particularly long week, Angel lay on her bed, unable to sleep. She tossed and turned, turning the silver Hippogriff between her fingers.

Just then, a rustling at the window above startled her, but she quickly relaxed when she saw it was just a bird. The raven looked at her with its beady eyes, cocking its head. There seemed to be something attached to its feet. She pushed away her covers and stood on the mattress to get a closer look.

It was parchment, meticulously rolled and tucked into a leather loop strapped to the bird's foot.

"Is that... for me?" she whispered. The raven flared its wings in response. She took that as a yes. Eyeing it cautiously, she slipped the note out. It adjusted its footing impatiently, as if waiting for something.

My Star,

How have you been? Are you safe?

Please write back. Be careful, they're watching the mail. No names, and only use Blackbeard.

I love you.

Ophiuchus

Her heart leapt into her mouth. "Hannah! Susan!" she hissed in the darkness. They stirred, Hannah grunting in response. "Wake up! It's Draco!" At his name, they both shot out from their beds, suddenly wide awake.

The three inspected the note in the moonlight, exchanging looks with each other - and Blackbeard.

"Ophiuchus? Are you sure it's him?" Hannah sniffed.

"Yeah, it's a constellation. It's just something we-" she began, but cut herself off. "It's him."

Hannah squinted at the ink. "Well? Are you going to write back?"

"He said they're watching the mail. Is it safe?" asked Susan, pinching the sleep from her eyes.

"Fuck them!" Hannah bristled. "I say write back. Poor boy's probably all alone, shrivelling up from heartbreak in that godforsaken manor of his."

Angel scrambled about in the darkness for a piece of parchment. On her bed, illuminated by the pale moon, she scribbled back.

Dear Ophiuchus,

I'm doing okay. Well, not really. Everything's changed. The school is in shambles. Lessons are different now. The trio have gone. But I am safe, and so is everyone else for now.

I wish I knew where you were so I can go to see you. I miss you so much. Please tell me if you're doing okay too, and if you've been eating and sleeping alright.

I haven't forgotten you.

Your Star

"Come here, Blackbeard," she whispered to the raven and held out her arm. It fluttered down obediently, and she almost lost her balance at the surprising weight of it. "You'll take care of him for me, won't you?" she cooed, pushing her note back into the empty loop. "Be safe."

Silently, Blackbeard spread its wings. Despite its size, it melted into the darkness, disappearing into the night.

They stood by her bed for a while, looking at each other in silence, weighing what had just happened in their minds.

"What now?" Susan asked.

"We wait, I guess," said Angel.

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

The next few days were agonising. She stayed up as late as she could to watch for Blackbeard, but there was no sign of the raven.

Finally, on the fourth night, the sound of heavy wings woke her from her light sleep.

My Star,

Words cannot describe how happy I am that you wrote back.

I'm sorry this took so long. My parents don't want me contacting anybody. I can't tell you where I am. It's difficult for me to leave, or even write to you often, but I will find a way to see you soon.

I've got more time now, so I just wanted to say - I'm so sorry for what I've done. I only wanted you to stay away from me to keep you safe. I know I've hurt you, and I will never forgive myself for that.

And what happened after, I wasn't going to do it, I swear to you. I never wanted anyone to get die. Still, I hope you know it was stupid, what you did. You could have died.

Stay safe. I will come back for you. I promise.

Love, Ophiuchus

It was a longer letter, and she drank up every word, even his chide, feeling her heart do a little dance. I will find a way to see you soon. 

Draco was going to come back for her, and she would be able to hug him again, feel his soft hair, and hold his warm lips against hers.

She wanted to cry at the thought. The ache for him grew within her every day. No matter how hard she tried, she could not shake him from her mind - at breakfast, lunch, dinner, during lessons, watering the plants, painting graffiti on the walls near the Carrows' offices, DA meetings.

Each time she closed her eyes, she could only see his - bright grey, like the sky on an early August afternoon; flashing silver like the Thestral pond. They were the North Star in the clear night sky. They led her home.

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

It was two weeks later when perhaps the most important letter came. There was nothing in it other than a time and a Hogmeade address she did not recognise.

"You can't go!" Susan whined in protest. "It could be a trap!"

"We'll come with, if you'd like," offered Hannah, ever-eager for some sort of confrontation.

Susan folded her arms decidedly. "Absolutely not!"

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

Their footsteps sounded like drums in the quiet of the night as they scurried past the courtyards, down the steps, and onto the fields. The night was cold with the still-lingering chill of winter, and the girls huddled further in their coats as they passed the Quidditch pitch.

"Watch your step," Hannah cautioned just before they started down the path to Hogsmeade. They held hands to steady each other, and with only the faint glow from their wands for light, carefully made their way down the hill.

"If the Carrows catch us, we're done for," Susan whimpered, looking around fearfully. "They will if you don't stop your whining!" Hannah shot back.

Angel ignored their bickering, her pulse racing as she tried to make out the shops in the darkness.

"We're looking for forty-seven," she reminded them.

"This is Honeydukes. Forty-seven should be down here," Hannah pointed down a small street.

The lane was slick with moisture. Susan slipped and cursed out loud.

"Shut up, Suze! I swear, you're going to-"

"We're here." Angel interrupted. 

Madam Puddifoot's was in complete darkness, the pink exterior now a lilac grey under the dim street lamps.

Susan began to back away. "Angel, there's no one here. It's a trap. Let's just go back, please!"

Angel frowned at her watch. It was exactly two in the morning. This was the right address. "No. This is it. I don't understand, he should be here..." But her voice faltered. She cupped her hands to the glass, trying to see inside.

Hannah strode boldly to the door and turned the knob. "Hannah, what the fuck!" squeaked Susan in horror. Tonight was the most Susan had cursed in in their entire six years, and Angel would have laughed, except they had no idea what waited for them inside, or who might be spying from around the corner, ready to ambush them.

The weak light from Hannah's wand only lit up a few metres in front of them. The shop smelled of disinfectant and cleaning liquid, as most shops did after closing. Chairs hung on the tables, the display was clean, and the counter was deserted.

"Evening, dearies."

Susan shrieked, stumbling backwards and crashing into the table behind. A pudgy, red-faced woman had emerged from the dark corner, her wand pointed surely at them. "And who might you lovely girls be?"

"Who are you?" Hannah challenged, stepping forward.

"Only Madam Puddifoot, dear." Her cheery voice sounded strange amidst the circumstances. "Looking for something?"

They remained silent, before Angel spoke up. "Ophiuchus." She figured she would just make something up if her hunch was wrong.

To their surprise - and relief - the portly lady deftly flipped her wand downwards, tucking it into her apron string. "Thank Merlin you girls made it safely! Come away from the doors," she ushered them further into the shop. They followed hesitantly, Hannah still gripping her wand tightly.

Once they were away from the light, Madam Puddifoot turned back to them, her demeanour now rather akin to a friendly aunt at Christmas. "Now, which one of you is Angel?" Angel raised her hand obediently.

The shopkeeper then pointed to a stairway behind the counter. "Up and to the left, dearie. You two can come with me for a spot of tea. I've just put the kettle on."

She started towards the stairs, before turning back to her friends. They looked back at her with wide eyes as they allowed themselves to be herded into the other room and out of sight.

Taking a deep breath, she climbed the steps.