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The searing pressure eased and Heir Orion Arcturus Black’s panic faded with it.

His exceptional will had allowed him time and again to face any event, whether man-made or devised by The Fates without blinking an eye.

It was the only time he was...ruffled when he had company.

“You did it, Orion,” Alphard Black, his favourite cousin said ever so quietly. Unlike his sister—whose presence annoyed him beyond endurance, Orion considered Alphard his best friend and confidant.

“I managed to control the Grim.” Satisfaction bubbled inside him, warm and tingling and his core welcomed it. The Black Magic dark and tenacious bolted through his veins.

It was unlike anything he had felt before. Not even when he reached his majority or claimed the Heir Black ring. Every part of his being recognized the sensation and hungered for more. 

Awakening the majestic Black Grim was his biggest accomplishment and what he had been dreaming of since he sensed another presence in his core at the age of thirteen.

He had not minded the strenuous effort it took to control the creature of legends and make the shift smooth. On the contrary, Orion strove to find the harmony between his human side and the creature and get right into the spirit of the Grim.

He knew that from now on, he had to exercise restraint and tread carefully so as not to alert his worst enemy.

“Uncle Arcturus is going to be thrilled by the news. It had been five hundred years since a Black Natural Animagus emerged. The Fates seem to favour you,” Alphard sounded excited and genuinely happy.

Orion’s dishevelled hair fell over his eyes. “I’m not sure,” he made an odd sound, between a growl and a sneer. “Father wasn’t there for me when I refused to bond with your sister. No offence meant.”

“And none is taken,” Alphard sighed.

Revulsion trickled over his skin when he remembered his bride and the future Lady Black and as upsetting as it was to remember that he was expected to spend the rest of his life tied to Walburga, he could no longer ignore the inner voice that wouldn’t stop whispering sweet promises.

It was the Grim’s voice.

He was entitled to hope, he supposed. It was rather unreasonable of his father to agree to the betrothal in a bid to keep the family together and appease his uncle Pollux.

He didn’t resent Arcturus, not really. He might seem cold and hostile but he loved him and his sister unconditionally. He never doubted that.

However, he would not give Walburga his heart nor would he offer her relief and bless her with a son.

Any son his sister would give birth to in the future could inherit the Lordship.

As soon as the plan formed in his mind, he was in rapture he ought as well as weep with relief.

Walburga would never know his secret, would never lay a hand on the majestic creature he housed. Any imbecile could understand that she had never cared about him. He was nothing but a means to accomplish her plans. The greed in her eyes spoke plainly enough of her thoughts.

He would keep pretending he was the malleable Heir who strove to please his father. He would keep ignoring her no matter what it took.

“Orion,” Alphard studied the claws that erupted from under his nails, his brow furrowed. 

How could he explain what he did not understand fully?

The Grim’s anger could not be allayed. He felt lonely and robbed of something he could not name.

“My magic is suffering,” he said. He could not muster the callous smile or the clever witticism he used more than once to deal with similar situations. “This bond is stifling and hurting both man and creature. I’m not certain I can endure much longer. I fear I might succumb to the Black Madness and become a shell of myself.”

Orion swallowed the bitterness in his mouth.

Creatures mated for life. They mated for love and concord.

To force him into this bond was a travesty that repelled the Grim and made him claw at his skin, looking for a way out.

He rubbed his forehead, feeling the noose getting tighter around his neck. His father and every member of House Black were demanding a son; an Heir to inherit the title after him and secure the family’s future but…

Alphard opened his mouth yet nothing came out. He shut it and sank onto the cushioned seat. ‘’You have to tread carefully. Walburga is not above trickery.”

A growl left his throat. 

‘Death,’ The Grim whispered. ‘We are bound to Death and with Death’s blessing, we shall stand proud again.’

A chill went down Orion’s back but ... a feral smile twisted his lips.

She might try, but he wasn’t giving up. One day, he ought to give her the sweetest morsel of revenge cooked in the deepest recesses of hell.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Dazed, Orion blinked looking into his son’s large silver-grey eyes.

He…he had fathered a son. 

Somehow, Walburga had managed to trick him and steal his free will.

His frigid composure ebbed when Sirius took his index finger in his fist and sucked on it. Despite his anger, his mouth curved upward and mist shimmered in his eyes.

The Grim was thunderous yet conflicted. He was no longer whole. His spirit was broken by the painful defeat. However, he couldn’t hate his young.

Sirius was his. He was his son and he would love him unconditionally.

‘We have to protect him. The pup is ours,’ the Grim said gravely.

Orion pressed his face into his son’s neck and dragged his sweet scent into his lungs. “Let’s do our best, my friend.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The Grim fastened his jaws around his neck and let out a wounded growl that should have shattered the window, the chandelier and the mirror into which Orion was gazing.

‘We’ve been bested again,’ he screamed.

“I know,” he answered quietly, barely able to keep his eyes open. 

Orion wanted help. He needed to find that elusive haven he kept yearning for. He wanted to escape this gilded cage but could not.

The Obscure Ritual Walburga and Pollux had performed was potent and unassailable. Only death could set him free and cleanse his sullied soul.

Hopefully, Walburga was done with him now that she had secured an Heir and a Spare.

Without looking, he approached the bed in the nursery. 

Hazy sunlight dappled the floor. The sun hung on the sky and everything took an eerie radiance. Despite the glow, the air was completely still, cold, heavy and thick, pressing down on him.

Nothing felt right. His mood resembled the angry clouds that streaked like claw marks across the deep blue of the sky. He guessed it was another day. 

It was also his birthday, he recollected with an unpleasant taste in his mouth.

His twenty-fifth birthday.

And he had awakened in the same condition in which he had been since Walburga stole his free will, he thought bleakly.

‘’There’s no way out. Only death can set us free,” he muttered.

‘’Da…” Regulus called from the crib.

Clumsily he lifted his second son in his arms and tried to summon a smile.

“I wish I could be there for you when you'd need me most. I know what she’s been up to,” Regulus looked at him with alert eyes. Tangled black hair hung over his forehead and the faint flush of sleep yet clung to his chubby cheeks.

“I’m sorry, son. May our next life be a better one. I swear I shall protect you and your brother then,” he vowed earnestly.

Young Regulus looked perplexed while still clutching his simple black shirt.

Orion cast a distracted glance at the window.

The garden wasn’t what it used to be after his mother’s death and his father's descent into endless mourning. 

Walburga was not one to nurture and care, instead, she seemed intent on keeping correspondence with her previous Housemate, Tom Marvolo Riddle.

Two-year-old Regulus dropped his head on his shoulder and he swallowed his surprise.

He could no longer feel human contact, could not appreciate the small, fleeting pleasures life offered. He was dead inside.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“I will never swear fealty to a deranged murderer!”

Orion started guiltily as he heard Sirius’ shouts.

“Leave…ran away….” He whispered to no one in particular. 

Perversely, his lips lifted upwards the moment he sensed the shift in the wards.

Sirius voiced his intention to forsake the Black Magic. He could no longer take the Heirship.

“You did well, Sirius,” his head downbent, he inhaled deeply. He was so weak he could barely move. 

‘Our pup is safe,’ the Grim’s fur brushed against his skin.

It disheartened him to remember the last look in his his eldest's eyes before he bolted from the room. There was betrayal there, so deep, it tore his heart apart.

He was unprepared for this feeling, the infuriating uncertainty in Sirius’ expressive eyes that he was betrayed by the person who should have protected him.

He fumbled to produce a coherent sentence and failed miserably.

How in Merlin’s Name could he explain to his son that his life was subverted the day his mother and maternal grandfather usurped his free will?

How could he tell Sirius that running away from his mother’s madness was the only way to escape a fate worse than death?

How he wished that one day, Regulus would follow in his brother’s footsteps and find a sanctuary.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Orion’s unfocused gaze fell upon the Black Family Tapestry. He scrunched his face in what his father would consider an intolerably obscene manner.

The threads of his control began to unravel, his insides roiling when his eyes landed on his sons’ names.

“Walburga, you fool…you can blast Sirius’ name from the tapestry but you can never take the Black from him,” he murmured in an ominously mild tone. 

A loud guffaw cut him off. “And you are useless, husband mine,” Walburga sneered. “Did you take a look in the mirror? Your glorious days as Magical Britain’s most covered bachelor are long since gone. You did your job, quite well if I might add. You gave me the next Lord Black and the authority over the family's assets and now, I shall do as I please and bring glory to House Black.”

Orion stared at her for a moment, barely able to open his eyes, then grinned. “You slandered your ancestors’ name. But fear not, you will receive what you deserve. Of that, I have no doubt.”

Walburga‘s eyes narrowed in what might have been surprise over his words or merely annoyance at his existence.

She sent him a sardonic look. “You’re dying. Don’t you recognize the signs? Your Aura is fading.”

The Grim, who had withdrawn to a dark corner of his mind, crept out and snarled. ‘We are Death’s votaries. Do not despair, Orion. From death, your salvation shall spring.’

“Do you expect me to weep piteously like a weakling? Heed my words, Walburga. This is not the end.” Orion’s chin lifted in defiance.

It didn’t matter that he was lying on the couch, his body frail and his magic faint. He was a proud son of House Black, his bloodline older and purer than time itself and his will inviolable. His gaze went one last time to the tapestry. He was indeed weaker than he showed.

“Can you do me a favour?” he asked the Grim knowing that his creature would always have his back.

‘I know,’ the Grim answered, his voice dripping with excitement.

He could not protect Death’s Chosen. 

An inner voice told him, though, that Sirius could do that now that Orion was no longer able to carry his mission.

His nails dug into the fleshy part of his palm as he used the last vestiges of his willpower to grasp the tether that linked him to his eldest.

‘Are you sure?’ the Grim asked in a dangerously soft voice.

“Yes,” Orion’s tired expression turned defiant. “Protect Sirius and the Chosen. We shall meet again, my friend.”

Wordlessly, Orion Arcturus Black closed his eyes and surrendered to the sweet nothingness of Death’s cold embrace.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The flame of life ignited in his soul again.

A faint glow seeped through his translucent body. His insides warmed, his heart eager to beat and supply his frozen limbs with precious blood.

Orion Arcturus Black sucked in a breath then stilled, listening, praying that what he had waited for was about to occur.

He felt the undeniable Black magic. It pooled inside his core and spread off, washing over him like a cold breeze.

The grave solemnity of the moment made him exhale. His face, though, brooked no nonsense.

Suddenly chilled to the marrow, Orion froze. He was back from the limbo. He looked blindly around, searching for an answer.

He had obviously heard the stories about the Black Grim and his alleged link to Death. Myths reported he was one of Death’s Familiars and the Guardian of the Underworld. Yet, these stories safeguarded in the Black Grimoire written by Lord Hyperion the First were but intriguing pieces of a puzzle no one could solve.

Then, there were these times when he had felt uncomfortable in his own skin. It was as if he was living someone else's life—merely existing on borrowed time. 

Dragging his thoughts away from the tales of Lord Hyperion Back, he lifted his eyes and looked inquiringly at the void that surrounded him.

“Looking lost does not suit you, Hunter,” a riveting voice, impossible to ignore drawled.

Orion felt compelled to look at the owner. He used the other name of the constellation he was cleped after.

The Hunter.

A being clothed in black glided forward. The fine robes shimmered as if sewn from stardust and the hood gave no glimpse of his features. He wended his way languidly not caring for his obvious discomfort.

His eyes slashed from the being’s hand—which was holding a Scythe— to his masked face.

“Very well,” he said in sham innocence. “Could you enlighten me? What am I doing here and why do I feel younger and healthier than ever.”

Carefully, Death answered. “Centuries before your birth, Hyperion Black swore his allegiance to Ignotus Peverell; my previous Chosen and the first Master of Death. I gifted him my dear Grim knowing that a Black would never go back on his word.”

Completely baffled, Orion stared at Death.

“Proud, headstrong and true, you carry Hyperion’s essence in you. My Grim waited patiently until he found the next Black vessel to share his magic with. It’s you, Orion.”

“But…I died,” he prompted with a tinge of anger and regret.

He was nothing but a weakling.

“You survived, you persevered. Those closest to you stabbed you in the back and used your mortal body. They never had access to your soul, though. You passed the trial of fire. You owned your rebirth because all power demands sacrifice and pain. I could not trust you with what I have in mind until I tested your mettle. Until I broke you time and again. Until I pushed you to the limit of what you could handle and beyond,” Death admitted in a detached voice. “You were never meant for that life. Your story starts now.”

Thunderous rage coursed through his veins. 

He had been betrayed by his father, by his cousin, by his uncle…

Had anything in his life ever been true?

“You being the new owner of my Grim,” Death said. “You being the Guardian of my Chosen.”

“What do I do, now?” he hissed, his voice choked with emotions.

“You go back and fix the future. You bring House Black back from the ruins and honour your ancestor's name. It’s time for the Hunter to rise again.”

Death faded, leaving him alone and confused.

A loud thud made him take a step back. 

“Sirius...” His voice was an anguished whisper as he sank to his knees next to the unmoving Grim.

He pulled the creature to him and dragged his fingers through the soft pelt. “Please. I’m sorry.” 

Urgent and desperate, his voice was, while he struggled with the waves of grief that assaulted him.

His Sirius was dead. It took him a moment to locate the tether that linked him to all the members of his family and when he did, he howled in pain.

He wasn’t merely angry. He was mindless with rage.

“You will be avenged, I swear,” he assured his son, his voice low and cold.

He sensed the moment Sirius’ soul left the Grim and travelled to the limbo. His fingers clutched the Grim’s fur.

He was his only friend, his companion, his confidant.

Orion dropped his forehead onto the Grim’s neck and inhaled. “Come back to me.”

A wavery smile danced over his lips when the creature disappeared, becoming a part of him again.

Sirius’ memories flooded his mind.

Anger, pain, sour betrayal, self-hate…

He felt his son’s turmoil like his own, tasted his tears and smelled his spilt blood.

His brave, beautiful son.

Slowly, he stood and took a deep breath. His diamond eyes moved to the Veil which had appeared as soon as Death left. 

His magic was on fire; raging and calling for blood. Raw power radiated from him like a dizzying flame that sizzled across his skin, the smell of sulfur so strong. He knew the Black magic was reacting to his emotions, no longer weakened by Walburga’s rituals and tricks.

His gut twisted as reality struck.   

This was his true call and the reason the Grim chose him.

A mighty roar—an undeniable battle cry left his throat and in a blink, the tall, graceful figure of Orion Arcturus Black morphed into that of a huge black dog.

The magic of the hellhound—vengeful, potent, feral filled the air. 

Lethal claws extended and replaced his nails while his teeth elongated, becoming cone-shaped, the tips as sharp as razors. The feral portion of him he had always tried to control thundered, eager to track its prey.

Eyes gleaming like hellfire, the creature of legends charged through the Veil.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Crucio!” Ailith Potter hissed icily, her lips forming a sneer that matched the one Bellatrix had before she succumbed to her curse.

The deranged witch let out a screech when she landed on the unforgiving marble floor.

Sick, twisted pleasure cascaded down Ailith's back as she watched the woman who killed her godfather twitch and moan, her pain too great to hide.

She smiled perversely as she channelled magic from her core, summoning all the hate she felt for Bellatrix Black.

Her blood was on fire, her instincts screaming at her to carry on and have her revenge.

She moved slowly, her wand still aimed at her enemy.

Her chin held high, she asked. “How does it feel to be on your knees, Bella? Your filthy master isn’t here to save you.”

Bellatrix moaned, her blue lips unable to form coherent words.

Dumbledore was a fool.

These cold-blooded murderers did not deserve mercy. Only death could wash away their sins.

Ailith froze when she sensed the shift in the air.

She recognized the Aura. How could she not when the monster had haunted her dreams for years?

“Do it. Kill her,” Voldemort purred next to her ear.

She gritted her teeth. She couldn’t give her back to her greatest foe. She couldn’t lower her wand, either. The moment she did, she would be as good as dead.

She was so stupid! How could she fall so easily into Voldemort’s trap?

She shouldn’t have believed Kreacher’s words. The house elf hated her godfather with a passion and blamed him for leaving the Black Ancestral home and Regulus.

She willed her heartbeat to slow and remained motionless.

“She deserves nothing less,” she said in a derisive voice.

“Then do it. You know the words.”

“Ma—Mas…Master….” Bellatrix whimpered.

Ailith inhaled deeply till her chest burned.

She couldn’t die.

Not yet.

She couldn’t die before she avenged her parents and Sirius.

She shook her head once in an attempt to cool the dark magic coursing through her body like molten lava. The vindictive part of her she had tried to control for years reared its head and demanded blood. She had tried hard to conceal that part and act like the Golden, obedient girl Dumbledore—and Magical Britain expected.

The thought forced a snort from her pressed lips. The thought of her being Light and innocent after all that she went through rankled her.

“Ailith Potter,” Voldemort started again in that annoying voice. “Lord Vol—“

He stopped abruptly and she discerned the moment he tensed. Ever so slowly, she lifted her eyes and gasped.

Her heart lodged itself firmly in her throat. She experienced a petrifying feeling, raw and intense.

“Si…Sirius….?” The name left her lips like a prayer.

The Grim didn’t make a sound as he landed on the other side of the atrium. He took small, deliberate steps, making an unhurried survey of the scene that greeted him.

Gaze unrelenting, he met her stare. She didn’t look away, unwilling to sever the eye contact. He studied her for several agonizing seconds, bright eyes boring an invisible hole into her skull. Her heart raced frantically, and her throat went dry. She dropped her gaze in bewilderment, staring at the ground before her chaotic emotions made her lift her head again.

How…

Determined, the Grim trailed his gaze along the occupants of the room. She could see the revulsion and obvious fury in his eyes. He remained silent, chin notched proudly while he stepped forward.

It took all her control not to run and throw herself at him. The Grim came to her rescue.

Whisper-quiet she turned around.

Voldemort’s eyes were narrowed on the newcomer. “Show yourself and shift back,” he ordered.

The Grim’s shoulders rippled with power as he took another step, ignoring Voldemort’s command. A blood-curdling growl left his lips when Bellatrix stirred. With a throaty roar, he shot toward the pale witch.

Two swipes of his clawed paws in either direction ravaged skin and drew blood, rending tissue in half as flesh peeled from the bone. Bellatrix’ blood painted the floor wet red, burning her nostrils. The frozen expression on her face the moment she recognized her death would forever remain a prized memory.

Ominous silence echoed in the spacious hall.

Ailith peered at the remains of the witch who destroyed too many lives to count. The sensation was jolting and set her off balance. She felt no pity for the torn body. 

None.

A shrill hiss left Voldemort’s lipless mouth. “You will pay!”

Several things happened at once.

Voldemort pushed her away. She hit the floor and heard a sickening crunch.

Her wand!

Ailith gasped the moment her bond with her faithful wand was severed.

She looked up, her laser-green eyes throwing daggers at Voldemort. Her head spun around when she heard a faint pop. Fawkes dropped Dumbledore then disappeared.

“Ailith,” he murmured sympathetically. “How—“

The twinkle left his cerulean eyes the moment they landed on what remained of Bellatrix. 

“Help him. He saved my life,” she pleaded, not above begging.

“He killed her in a most gruesome way.”

He ignored her and gazed at Voldemort and the Grim.

“Help him!” She yelled, her voice slicing through the air and her magic revolting at the idea of losing the Grim again. 

She had never wielded a magic so strong. She fought to control the waves that crashed against her skin, looking for an out, focusing solely on breathing.

She looked up at Dumbledore to find him staring down at her curiously.

His eyes flicked between her and the Grim. “How…Odd…” She heard the wariness in his voice.

“Professor,” she hissed.

From where they stood, she could sense the killing intent. Nothing would appease Voldemort but the Grim’s life.

Dumbledore paused. “I’m afraid, this is not Sirius. His Aura is different. He’s a Black, though. A powerful one.”

Though she wanted to shake her head in denial, Ailith nodded. Somehow, she knew he wasn’t her godfather the moment their gazes locked.

He was a stranger…yet so familiar it was as if a part of him lived inside her.

“I don’t care. Help—“

She was so caught up in her thoughts she didn’t notice the raging fight.

A boulder headed her way.

“Ailith!” She heard Remus’ alarmed shout.

Her survival instincts took over and she covered her head with her arms.

Dumbledore aimed his wand at the fountain and the statue of the witch galloped toward her, shielding her with its golden body. The statue thrust Ailith backwards as the Headmaster took slow steps toward Voldemort and the Grim.

“Stay out of this,” Voldemort spat.

Ailith noticed with glee that Voldemort’s spells brushed against the Grim’s pelt without causing him harm. She had never known that Animagi were so strong.

“He’s….” She whispered.

Remus rushed toward her, taking her in his arms. “Sirius is dead. But he will always remain in our hearts. You have to live. That was his greatest wish.”

Her jaw clenched. She refused to cry. Refused to show weakness.

“I wonder who's this wizard,” Hermione crawled behind the statue, clutching her bleeding arm.

Ailith took her in her arms. ”Are you alright? What about Ron and Neville and Luna and…”

“We are fine,” Hermione grimaced.

“Let me help,” Remus offered. He murmured a Healing Spell and the wound closed.

“It was like a dream,” Hermione frowned. “The moment you ran after Bellatrix, the huge dog jumped from the Veil. He charged at the Death Eaters and slaughtered them. Literally. It was horrid and quite scary. Their spells didn’t seem to have any effect on him.”

“Animagi aren’t supposed to be this powerful. This is not an ordinary black dog.” Remus sounded tense.

‘Because this is the real Grim’. An eerie voice whispered in her head.

Trying to wrap her mind around what was going on, Ailith watched as Dumbledore joined the fight.

He countered Voldemort’s vicious curses and hexes, but didn’t seem intent on finishing him off.

A sour taste filled her mouth. Why didn’t he just kill him?

Voldemort, on the other hand, was losing what little patience he had. His eyes spewed rage and hatred. It was as if the more the Grim challenged him, the crazier he became.

Quietly, she crept from behind the statue.

“Ailith!” Hermione hissed.

With her finger, she signaled to her friend to remain quiet.

She studied Hermione’s wand then Remus’ and, somehow, knew none would work for her.

Her gaze went again to the Grim. His eyes glowed black before he lunged at Voldemort.

Blood sprayed from the Dark Lord's mangled arm and his wand rolled to the floor with a thud.

“Tom, enough,” Dumbledore beseeched in his grandfatherly voice.

Ailith groaned and the Grim answered with a growl, baring his lethal fangs.

It awed her how stupid the Headmaster was. They couldn’t let Voldemort apparate. Not now. It was a golden opportunity to end his reign of terror for good.

The Grim looked at her and his eyes narrowed as if he was reading her inner thoughts. Her gaze flicked to Bellatrix’ body taking in the carnage without a flicker of emotion. Then without a second thought, she sprinted toward the Headmaster.

Under normal circumstances, she would have talked herself out of the utterly crazy idea that slammed her mind. But she was the daughter of James Potter. 

Silently, the Grim watched alert as she eyed Dumbeldore’s wand. With a swiftness she didn’t know she possessed, she snatched it from his loose grasp.

“Ailith…” he gasped.

“I’m sorry, but I’m not playing your games anymore. This needs to end. Now.”

“The Prophecy…”

“You know the Prophecy?” Voldemort's blood-red eyes glared at him.

“I don’t care,” Ailith shuddered as she tightened her grip on the wand.

A sinfully dark magic purred in her ears and sent tendrils of awareness to her core. She gritted her teeth but stood proudly erect, refusing to cower.

This was her moment.

The Grim paced relentlessly around Voldemort, waiting for him to make his next move. She lightly raked her fingers over the smooth wood of the wand. It was so familiar, like a friend she had missed all her life.

“You are not a match for Lord Voldemort. Even wandless—“

The Grim growled then slammed against a startled Voldemort. He howled in pain and the scent of sulfur saturated the air.

The Grim was done with his games.

Calling to all the power she knew she possessed, Ailith took a calming breath and harnessed her magic.

Her palm tingled as warmth spread through her body. As if she was throwing a ball, she hauled back and aimed her wand at Voldemort. The arc of hellfire slammed into the middle of his chest, sending him flying through the air, across the length of the Ministry atrium. He hit a wall and then collapsed in a heap of dark robes, not moving.

The Grim rested his large paw over Voldemort’s heart. Smoke billowed out from the spot he touched. He let out a pleased roar and retreated.

All that remained of Voldemort was a pile of ashes.

Ailith glanced over her shoulder where Dumbledore was attempting to stand on wobbly feet.

Dark, cold magic creaked and splintered up her spine and she fought the need to topple over.

“What have you done…” Dumbledore wheezed.

“Ailith!” she heard her friends’ shouts but her eyes wouldn’t leave the Grim.

She watched as he sauntered toward her, his eyes soft but determined.

Heart racing, she smiled inwardly.

She knew he wasn’t her Sirius.

She watched mesmerized as the huge, black dog that stood seven feet tall moved slowly, his eyes never straying away from her face. Fast, deadly and born predator he might be but she was not afraid.

When he was close, he stretched and in a flash of blinding light, became a man.

His thick black hair was cut short in the back and longer in the front; silky locks caressing his temples and high cheekbones lovingly. The colour was stark and beautiful against his porcelain skin and bright silver-grey eyes. He was as tall and alluring as the most sought-after wizard, broad-shouldered and lean. Opulent, black robes hugged his toned body and opened at the waist, showing neatly pressed black slacks.

There was no mistaking the uncanny resemblance. The wizard had Sirius’ face. But unlike her godfather, there was an air of quaint haughtiness and power about him that Sirius had never possessed.

He bowed his head and took her hand in his, reverently. “Lady Potter.”

Something in his voice caused a flutter in her stomach like flower tendrils delicately searching for places to adhere. Magic danced over their touching skin in a coherent rhythm, like the tide and the moonlight.

Pertly, annoyed with her helplessness, she asked. “Who are you?”

For one split second, his face displayed worry, as if he hadn’t considered this minor detail. But his surprise over that was quickly hidden behind yet another firm expression.

“Lord Orion Arcturus Black is at your service, my Lady.”

The words rendered her motionless. 

Orion Arcturus Black...

Ailith stood there stunned, her vision blurred with unshed tears.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

As she remained stalwart in her disbelief, Orion studied her.

The Grim was pacing restlessly within the confines of his body.

‘Ours,’ he growled.

“Ours,” Orion answered without hesitation.

Her eyes were captivating—of a deep, rich green that reminded him of his mother’s favourite emeralds. 

Amazing eyes, candid and expressive with long, sooty eyelashes. Those eyes stole his breath and made things he had tried to ignore in his past life click into place.

Death’s promise.

She wasn’t just beautiful and pretty didn’t quite suit her either, but when she looked up at him he was stunned.  Her cheekbones were high and delicately molded, her skin was as smooth as alabaster, tinted with pale rose, her nose small.

In contrast to these delicate features, her small chin had a decidedly stubborn bluntness to it as she held Bellatrix at wand point. Altogether it was an intriguing, alluring combination, he decided. One that bewitched both sides of him.

And that was before he allowed himself to remember that she was Sirius’ goddaughter.

And she was fifteen.

He remembered how she rushed to his help and didn’t know if he should be pleased or annoyed with his helplessness.

How could he have let her put herself in danger like that?

He was her Grim Guardian. It was his job and his privilege to protect her.

But no, his stubborn, determined charge was all too capable of taking on challenges that would daunt a lesser woman—or man.

He couldn’t stop her. A secret part of him, one he had buried deep, was thrilled by the sight of her taunting Voldemort and getting the best of him.

Ailith looked away. Her reaction to him seemed to frustrate her. The faint flush in her cheeks contrasted with the bloodless pallor of her hands, which were still gripping her wand.

A sad smile lifted the corners of her mouth. But it was her eyes that captivated him as she captured his gaze with her own. They shone. Whether the glimmer of tears meant sadness or joy, he was not sure, but the depth of her emotion— that she couldn’t hide.

It reached him. He felt her pain as if it was his own.

She was mourning her godfather.

He mourned his son—his sons.

His dark brows drew together when he noticed her scar. Sirius had his warranted suspicions, and now that he had all the Black magic at his disposal, he recognized the leech. He shoved the thought away, his gaze going to Dumbledore. 

“Orion…how could this be…” The frail wizard breathed.

Unable to help himself, he smirked, clasped Ailith’s hand and slid his fingers through hers, intertwining them. “From now on, Lady Potter is my charge.” His heady voice dropped an octave, taunting.

The need to shield her was palpable, crawling under his skin. The craving was something that, rather shockingly, his Grim had accepted even before their bond clicked.

“Where—where do you think you’re taking our friend?” a redhead spluttered as soon as he joined them.

“Is this even legal—“

“Hermione!” Ailith buried her face in his chest. The moment she did, she cemented her fate.

There was not much he could have considering her age. He would wait and be whatever she needed until she reached her majority but…

Her acceptance soothed his Grim, bringing each and every part of him together.

Unable to do anything else, he accepted the will of his beast and pulled her scent into his lungs.

The fragrance was like a balm that tamed and calmed, starting in his nostrils and winding its way through his body.

Gently, he slung an arm around her waist and tugged her close. Her magic twined with his, driving him more than a little dizzy. While she felt fragile in his embrace, he knew that it was just an illusion. 

She was the strongest witch he knew.

“Let’s go home. You need to rest.” His husky voice brought goosebumps to the surface of her skin.

Dumbledore hesitated before he asked solemnly. ”Will you—“

“Absolutely,” he replied with conviction, digging his fingernails into his palm. “Without question. I will be her shield and sword. You don’t need to worry about her anymore.”

What he didn’t tell the old man was that his treachery was over. With the knowledge he gained when he took the leap from the limbo to the future, he knew where to start.

Orion intended to hunt every last part of Voldemort and cleanse the containers with hellfire.

Nothing less would appease the Grim and alleviate his fear.

Ailith whipped her head to look at him. “Do you promise?” She clutched his robes, trembling, as a lone tear streamed down her pale cheek. “You won’t leave me like Sirius?”

Caressing her forehead, he vowed. “I give you my word, Ailith.” 

Identifiable longings and emotions resurfaced with fevered intensity when he addressed her by her given name for the first time.

“Take me away, Orion,” she whispered against the tender spot beneath his ear, her breath nuzzling the hair at his nape.

He recognized the spluttering Fudge, who lost his balance and fell on his arse, his face ghostly white. “How...” he whimpered in a pitifully weak voice.

Orion’s dark eyes locked with the Minister for a moment.

Whoever dared hurt his family would pay tenfold. There would be no mercy for the traitors.

But first….

He had his Chosen to take care of.

The air carried the sulfur smell of the glorious Black magic. His muscles went taut before he disappeared with Ailith in his arms, breaking the unbreakable wards of the Ministry of Magic.

Part of his sons’ hearts would always ache in his breast. Part of his heart would remain chilled. Part of him would miss what he lost deeply, unfathomably.

But like the constellation he was named after, he would burn consumed and resurrect even half-slain.

If he was to make a single vow, it was to remain true to his Chosen and mold a satisfactory future for them.

The star of the Noble of Most Ancient House of Black would never grow dim.

Chapter Text

Lady Narcissa Black Malfoy sat by the window overlooking the gardens, her hands resting demurely on her lap.

Her gaze darted anxiously to the Malfoy Manor gates. Of course, she didn’t need to look to sense her husband’s presence. He wasn’t back from yet another hazardous mission.

Her defenselessness hurt her badly. How confusing and terrible it was for her to see the man she had fancied in her youth succumb to greed and madness.

Lucius, the silver-tongued Death Eater with no backbone was not the wizard she chose and wed.

She knew nothing of her fate when she accepted the Betrothal Contract Lord Abraxas Malfoy brought eagerly. Did not know that she would witness her husband’s disgraceful fall.

She could not condemn Lucius without also condemning herself. She followed him faithfully for years in a bid to keep their little family together and secure her son’s future.

But was Draco’s life worth all these sacrifices? Was losing her dignity and her self-respect and turning a blind eye to everything she believed in worth it?

Lucius was but a dead man walking. Voldemort’s thirst for power would not end well for all those involved.

She would have to lose another sister, another person she loved dearly despite all their flaws.

The cry that left her throat took her by surprise.

She shot to her feet, almost stumbling on her feet.

Her pulse rushed in her ears as her trembling hand went instinctively to her chest, clawing at her fine robes.

She felt it. Clear as the moon on a starless sky.

The bond that linked her to Lucius was severed.

Her husband was no more.

Her legs failed her and in an unprecedented occurrence, Narcissa Black Malfoy; the witch who bowed to no one, sank to her knees.

She swallowed, her eyes stinging with unshed tears. Her limbs started shaking then her stomach sank and a great emptiness filled her when she felt another loss.

Bella…

Finding it hard to breathe, she closed her eyes and dug deep into her core.

The tether was brutally severed. It was as if Bella was being…judged by the Family Magic.

But it was impossible. Only the rightful Lord Black could call upon such punishment. 

Unless…

The tiny hairs on the back of her neck rose.

Her head began to spin, her heart beating painfully against her breast when she sensed the new presence in the web that linked all the members of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black together.

The web was no longer the same after all the losses they suffered through the years. Whereas it was fabled to be filled with endless stars, bright and unique, representing each member of the family, nothing remained but a few faded stars.

The new presence blazed and she knew that the new Lord’s power could pulverize her or any other family member with a simple thought.

His presence was pure white, so cold she suppressed an instinctive shiver. Even Sirius, despite his tremendous potential, never had that power.

With a gasp, Narcissa noted that the place where Sirius’ star resided was empty. She had enjoyed her cousin’s dastardly pranks until they became older and burdened by their parents’ expectations, they drifted apart.

Another loss to mourn….

Narcissa rose to her feet slowly. 

She understood that she had reached a very important stage and needed to make a choice.

For her son’s sake, for her family’s sake…

Either way, she had no choice but to answer to Lord Black. It was the only true allegiance in her life; the one she had always believed in and missed for years. She could mourn later and pray for the dead.

But…Who was he?

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Andromeda Black Tonks struggled to comprehend what was going on.

She shook her head and opened her mouth but no sound emerged.

 “Andy, are you alright?” Ted sounded worried. Being her husband, he would feel her emotions as if they were his own.

Despite her banishment, Andromeda was a member of House Black. She had asked for a small Bonding Ceremony according to the Olde Ways; to share everything with her husband and have that heavenly connection.

“I—‘’ She shook her head in denial, ‘’Bella and Sirius are gone.’’

Ted’s gaze grew wary. “Nymphy?”

They knew she was part of the Order of the Phoenix. Andromeda had never trusted Albus Dumbledore but she could do naught to stop her daughter from fighting. It ran thick in her blood.

“She’s fine.” Her gaze locked with her husband’s.

The two of them had seldom spoken of the dark days that followed their elopement and marriage. However, a blood-hungry beast lived within her—a beast that asked for revenge. Her anger at her family for betraying her still cut deep.

Ted rested his hand on her shoulder. “How are you feeling?”

She looked down at her hands. “Sirius was never the same after his imprisonment. I’ve been mourning the great man I knew for years. I pray to Mother Magic that Death gives him the freedom he had been denied. As for Bella…She was the first to abandon me when—“

“You don’t need to explain,” Ted ran his hand soothingly over her back. “I know how much you love your sisters...despite everything.”

“I cannot help it.”

Then out of nowhere, it happened.

She was momentarily blinded by the new presence in the eerie darkness of the Black family web of stars.

“This is impossible….” Her heart slammed in her chest.

“What’s—“ Ted’s brows drew together.

“The new Lord Black.” She willed her mind to focus, every muscle taught with tension. “He’s not Ailith or Narcissa’s son as I’ve expected. He’s way more powerful and….a true Black.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Orion bit back a sigh. Grimmauld Place’s magic was responding to his arrival as if it had been expecting him.

The moment he landed at the threshold, Ailith held securely in his arms, House Black’s stronghold welcomed its new Master.

Nostalgia filled his chest, unleashing the longing and pain that lived within. He was back home; where he spent his best and worst days.

Even the Grim was comforted by being back to what he perceived as his lair.

He’d promised that he would have revenge, that he’d allow no one to mock or underestimate House Black again. The moment he said farewell to Sirius and leapt through the Veil, he had taken an oath to see this through to the end, no matter what he had to do.

And he would start then and there.

As soon he remembered his vow, his mind took hold and cold fury doused the heat in his blood.

He caught the momentary flicker in the wards. They were reacting to Ailith’s presence. As soon as they recognized his imprint on her and understood what she was to him, they simmered down.

“I believe you’ve been here before,” he observed.

“Yes,” she answered. 

Without further ado, he touched the carved emblem at the centre of the door and it opened at once.

“Welcome to Grimmauld Place,’’ he ushered her inside then studied her, thoroughly.  

So young and fragile she seemed, and yet also defiant and proud.

She walked with her head high and her eyes set. But he could see she was weary and…afraid. Her eyes were wide, her gaze darting here and there, her breathing rapid and shallow. 

The violence and the loss she’d endured that night were written over her pale face. There were dark circles beneath her eyes and her ebony hair hung in tangled waves almost to her waist. Her robes weren’t faring any better. The sleeves were tattered.

However, he discerned anger and bloodlust behind the grief and desperation.

Like him, she wanted those who wronged them to suffer for their pain just as they had made them suffer when they took what they cherished most.

It was disturbing for someone so young to harbor such dark intentions, yet he could not begrudge her that considering who she was and what she went through.

‘She’s tough, don’t underestimate her,’ the Grim clucked.

“I’m not,” he threw back. “It’s just she's—‘’

‘Young. Younger. So what? It isn’t as if age matters for Wixen. Take it one step at a time. She needs you more than you think. Don’t embarrass us.’ The shameless creature taunted.

Orion ignored him and looked around instead.

Fighting helplessness, he stumbled through the gloom of what remained of his ancestors’ stronghold.

A part of him wanted to unleash the Grim and bring Walburga from the dead so he could punish her accordingly.

He had never seen Grimmauld Place in such a state. Lord Hyperion the First; the founder of the stronghold, must be rolling in his grave.

He caught himself lest Ailith caught on his turbulent thoughts and pushed back, driving the bitterness filling his mouth with all his strength.

He pivoted when he heard someone scream at the top of their lungs. ‘’Intruder, Blood Traitor! What are you doing here again Mudblood? My failure of a son! How dare he bring half-breeds to my house! Shame of—‘’

Portrait Walburga’s jaw dropped when she spotted him. Momentarily stunned, she studied his face, shaking her head in denial.

“Ori—Orion….But how could this be? You….You’ve been dead for decades! You look—‘’

His smile flashed like a blade. Cold and merciless. “Good evening to you too, Walburga. Such behaviour isn’t acceptable. Where are your manners? I was made to believe that wellbred witches of Ancient Houses never stutter.”

His lips twitched when he heard Ailith’s snort.

Driven by rage, Walburga glared at her. “How dare you mock me, Mudblood!”

Orion’s voice was quiet and steady when he interrupted her rant. “Her blood is actually way older and purer than yours, Walburga. I believe you’ve met Lady Ailith Potter Peverell previously. As expected, you are acting gracelessly. Your ignorance knows no bounds. It’s rather disappointing.”

“You—‘’

“Careful,” he raised his left hand and the Lordship ring that appeared on his pinky as soon as crossed the Veil glinted in the dimly lit corridor. “Insult me or mine again and you will pay.”

“But… How?” she croaked.

He rose his head gracefully. His eyes turned diamond bright, and he knew the moment black seeped into the white. His claws elongated. Steel-hard and sharp.

He examined his hand carelessly, turning it up and down. “I told you, you are as ignorant as ever. I am the Black Grim, Lord Hyperion’s true Heir and Death’s Vassal.”

She reared back as if she’d been slapped.

‘A wicked, talentless woman like you is no match for us,’ the Grim growled and he enjoyed the devastated look in her eyes. Immensely.

“I told you years ago that it wasn’t over. A part of me had always known that I would come back.”

“No,” she breathed.

“Yes,” he hissed viciously. “Look what you’ve done. You brought House Black’s ruination. You killed Regulus and were the main reason why Sirius ran away and never took the Lordship; his birthright. Congratulations, everything you plotted so hard to get is destroyed. Rather than thinking only of yourself, you should’ve cared for your sons. As of now, you have none.”

Shocked at his cruel rebuke Walburga screamed. “You lie!” Orion could hear the note of hysteria in her voice. She was too shaken to mask it.

“Am I?” his voice became hard-edged. “Would I lie about something so important? Would I jest about my son’s life? Sirius is dead. I hope you are content now. You’ve never shown that boy a smudge of kindness.”

Caught in an enchanted canvas, Walburga had no choice but to glare at him as he took another step closer. “I don’t know whether I should announce the joyous news now, but yes, I am back. For good. I am younger and stronger, in my prime. The Grim is no longer ailing and he shall answer to me whenever I need him. Moreover, the spot of Lady Black will not remain vacant for long. Meet my betrothed, Lady Ailith Potter Peverell soon to be Black.”

He knew his Occlumency walls were crumbling. Insanity beckoned him but he was immune to it now. The Lord of House Black would never go insane; the Family Magic would not allow it.

The Grim relished in Walburga’s shock, he wanted to smear the walls with her blood and bath in her despair. 

Image after image shot through his mind, nightmare memories from a past that should’ve never taken place.

The fire inside his veins shot to inferno levels and black flames danced over his fingertips.

“Orion?” Ailith touched his arm, worry lacing her voice. “She’s not worth it.”

Her concern dampened the hellfire at once. “I know.” He forced a smile.

“You dare—‘’

“Of course I do.” Venom dripped from every word Ailith gritted, eyes riveted to Walburga’s face. “You are the reason behind Sirius’ suffering.”

Orion’s gaze skimmed through her face and he knew he had to bring an end to this confrontation.

Ailith needed her rest and he needed some privacy so he could reconcile himself to everything that had taken place since he came back.

He stretched his left hand to the portrait, barely touching it.

“Walburga, you’ve been always loud. You speak without care. You take pleasure in scorning those you consider lower than you. Thus, I will take your voice. From this moment, you shall see everything that I will do. But, you will have no voice to comment, scream or curse. When I am done, I shall bring your last memory to a crisp. I won’t let you tarnish the walls of my ancestors’ home for long. You are unworthy.”

Walburga opened her mouth to protest but no sound came out.

He closed his eyes for a moment, savouring the moment. Ailith’s hand grazed his as if she were drawing strength from him. 

“Come, you need to rest. Kreacher!”

Orion’s eyes narrowed when Ailith flinched and then pressed her lips hard.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Ailith’s teeth almost chattered from grinding them together. She could not confront Kreacher, not now.

She knew that the House elf was deranged, and merely answered to his previous mistress’ commands. But his trickery led to her godfather’s eventual demise.

She met Orion’s haunted gaze then her brow bent in a frown and her gaze dropped to his hands again.

Earlier….he had displayed his lethal claws.

It fascinated her how much control he had over his creature. Partial shifting was not possible for Animagi, she read it in the book Sirius gifted her for her fifteenth birthday. She knew how eager he was for her to become one with her Spirit Animal.

Unfortunately, it wasn’t meant to be.

Fresh tears burned behind her lids but she refused to let them down.

Not in Walburga’s presence.

Everything hit her at once. The fake scene Voldemort lured her with, her dragging her friends to the Ministry, her friends battling with Death Eaters way older and stronger, Sirius rushing to her rescue, Bellatrix’ heinous crime, her torturing the unhinged witch and then….

Lord Orion Black coming back.

She looked up at him then her gaze fell on the House Black emblem stitched on his left breast.

Nothing made sense at all yet nothing in her life had ever seemed so right.

It was as if the Magical World was dead set on showing her the impossible over and over again.

Mine…

His words reverberated in her mind.

Hit by a wave of dizziness, she drew in a deep breath, refusing to succumb to such weakness.

Good Godric, she was only fifteen!

She was aware that witches of Ancient and Noble Houses followed traditions loyally. They received Betrothal contracts from the age of thirteen. But Ailith wasn’t raised in Magical Britain. She was trying to find her place in this strange world and understand how most things functioned.

Moreover, he was Sirius’ father...even though he did not look a day older than twenty.

As soon as she gathered her resolve, Kreacher popped in.

Orion looked down at the shivering elf with a raised brow.

“Ma—Master Orion…H-How could—“ He stuttered, his head bent and his nose almost touching the filthy ground.

“Kreacher son of Tally, don’t you dare repeat your Mistress’ words,” Orion warned.

“Kreacher is sorry, Master,” he sniffled. ‘’But Master Orion is here.”

“I see that your eyesight is as good as ever.” She noticed the faint smile that lifted Orion’s lips. “What happened to you? Why do you look so raddled?”

Kreacher lifted fearful eyes to her then sunk to his knees. “Kreacher was following Mistress Walburga’s commands like Master Orion wanted. Kreacher is a good House Black elf.”

His words seemed to take Orion by surprise.

With a hard lump in her throat, she explained. “Kreacher is awfully loyal to Walburga. He would do anything for her. Anything. He hated…Sirius with a passion and never considered him the rightful Master of this House. Hermione suspects that he’s under a strong spell.”

Orion studied Kreacher carefully. Kreacher paled drastically and she knew that was he standing, he would’ve swayed on his feet like an autumn leaf.

Orion was reading the elf’s mind.

“Kreacher…How could you? You are my elf. Tally gave you to me on your seventh birthday. You’ve been serving me since.”

The hurt in Orion’s voice echoed in the scarce space.

“Master Orion, Kreacher swears…”

“I know.”

Ailith wanted to give in to her tears. The conflicting emotions going over Orion’s face were too hard to watch.

“Free him,” she urged. “Break the spell.”

She knew how desperately Kreacher needed to earn his Master’s forgiveness. Orion had to say the words aloud.

“Kreacher, don’t blame yourself. There was naught you could’ve done to stop this. Walburga wanted a faithful servant and she found you. She stole you from me. At least, you served Regulus dutifully till he took his last breath. For that, I am grateful.”

He put his hand over Kreacher’s forehead and the elf gasped.

When Orion’s gaze met hers again, she saw wariness and deep regret.

“Master Orion, Kreacher committed the gravest sin. How could Master forgive this bad elf? Kreacher deserves a beheading.” 

Krecher’s wails filled the corridors.

Whatever else he said, Ailith could no longer hear over the pounding of her own heartbeat.

It was too much—all those people and creatures betrayed by the one person they trusted most.

“To atone for your sins, I order you to serve Lady Ailith most ardently. From this moment on, she is your one and only Mistress. Understood?” 

“Yes! Thank you, Master Orion, Kreacher does not deserve this honour. Kreacher will spend his remaining days serving Mistress Ailith.”

Shocked by the abrupt change of manner and the way Kreacher addressed her, she took an instinctive step backwards.

A sense of despair pressed in on her. “But he is—he was your personal elf! Maybe you should—“ She tried to dissuade Orion from making this grave mistake.

She did not require Kreacher’s services.

He seemed to consider her words. When he spoke, his voice was gentle once more. “Winning the unwavering loyalty of an elf is one of the greatest blessings. They would do anything for you; even give you bits of their magic if need be. I know what he did. But like me, he was yet another victim of the hag. I hope that one day you’ll find it in your heart to forgive him.”

“Kreacher will be good! Please, Mistress Ailith, allow Kreacher this honour,” the proud elf begged fat tears sliding down his pale cheeks. She felt his body quiver against her legs as his short arms tried to close around them.

“Fine. Just…go and finish whatever you were doing,” she sighed.

Orion’s gaze travelled over her face and his lips curved in a satisfied grin.

Her heart missed a beat and a rush of heat went into her cheeks.

She wondered what was going on with her.

He beckoned her to follow him. When they reached the stairs, his gaze pierced her. “You have endured a terrible ordeal tonight, Ailith. You might want to unburden your heart by speaking of it to someone. I will be there whenever you need me or you are free to invite some of your friends to come and keep you company.”

Only one other person had ever asked her to share the troubles of her heart.

Sirius.

The very sight of Orion’s face made her chest constrict, a maelstrom of feelings inside her.

As if reading her thoughts, he took her hand in his. “You cannot solve all your problems tonight. Take it easy. There’s plenty of time for us to get acquainted. And remember, you are no longer alone. You have me.”

Something fluttered deep in her belly at his words. How long had she longed to hear someone—anyone to make that promise?

You are not alone. 

You have me.

“Orion,” a helpless flush spread over her face leaving her short of breath, her heart beating faster. “Why me? What are we to each other? Why do you feel so familiar?” She breathed.

He caught her chin turning her face toward him. He looked at the tear stains marring her cheeks.

She looked up at him, the brave mask she’d worn throughout the night shattering.

“I’m not sure this is the right time to explain everything. There’s much we have to discuss. Most importantly, your magical education is….unsatisfactory. You were not meant to grow up with Muggles. A Heiress of your standing should be taught from a young age about this world.” Orion shook his head. “Suffice to say, my first ancestor; Lord Hyperion the First, swore fealty to yours, Lord Ignotus Peverell. A bond that transcends time and space was forged. The Grim, my Creature is Death’s Familiar and Death is the Peverells’ closest friend. They are his most trusted. Were you taught your family’s history?”

It took a long moment for her to go over his words. 

“No. I merely know bits about the Potters' history. All thanks to Sirius’ bed stories.” It was painful to make the admission.

No one—other than Sirius—had cared enough to educate her properly, to show her the Potters’ way of life.

“Will you…” she bit her lower lip.

“With pleasure. It’s your right,” Orion’s voice grew deep. “Know that I’ve never asked for this. Like you, I was chosen by Death and his Grim. I will never pressure you or demand something you are not ready to give, your heart included. I respect you so much to act that way. We can become whatever you want, whatever you need. I will be your mentor, your protector and your friend. You have nothing to fear from me. I know very well how much it hurts to lose one’s free will. Tonight changes nothing. You are your own person and the mistress of your fate.” Something about the way he made the new vow—the comforting timber of his voice, the naked truth in his eyes—made her want to be whatever he needed as well. 

Was she that transparent?

It was as if he could sense her need for comfort. Her need to know that nothing was expected from her.

She was free at last.

Her hand held his instinctively. “Thank you.” Her voice was hoarse but she didn’t care.

“No, thank you for prevailing.” He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed her cold fingers.

“Kreacher, take Ailith to her room and make sure she has whatever she needs.”

“Wait! What about school? I mean—“ She stammered.

“You are free to go wherever you want. This is your home and not your prison,” he teased. “I believe the school year is over. I would advise resting for a couple of days. You don’t want to be pestered by reporters and noisy fans.”

She scrunched her face in disgust. “Most definitely not.”

“Sleep for now. We will talk tomorrow. We have much more to do.”

“Good night, Orion.” She followed Kreacher upstairs. When they were out of earshot, she said blankly. “Take me to Sirius’ room.”

She ignored Kreacher’s flinch.

She knew she would not get any sleep that night. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Orion put his hands on the table and steepled his fingers, noting how Kreacher’s eyes went to them.

‘’You want to tell me something.” It wasn’t a question.

“Master Orion…”

“I’m listening,” he prompted the apprehensive elf. “I know you are afraid but you must trust me. You used to be my confidant. I told you I don’t plan to punish you. We will start anew.”

Kreacher held his apron tight. “Master Regulus….The night Master Regulus died he was in the midst of doing the snake-face monster’s bidding. Master Regulus revealed the vile monster’s secret but it was too late. The snake-face monster tricked him.”

Fresh tears run down Kreacher’s face.

Orion’s vigour was restored by a renowned sense of purpose. “And?”

“When Master Regulus died, Kreacher stole the snake-face monster’s treasure. Kreacher had been keeping it safe for years, waiting for someone to avenge Master Regulus and make the vile monster pay.”

“Voldemort is no more. Ailith helped me kill him.” He met Kreacher’s wide eyes.

Kreacher screamed and threw himself at his legs. “Thank you! Thank you, Master Orion!”

“He was my son.” Even though he never felt the connection properly. He was robbed of that thanks to Walburga.

‘But you loved him,’ the Grim reminded him.

“That, I did.”

Kreacher nodded then disappeared. A moment later he returned with a locket dangling from his fingers.

“Kreacher senses evil in this locket. Kreacher hid it from the loud, plump woman Master Sirius invited home. Master Orion should destroy the locket.”

Orion frowned as soon as he touched the locket.

It was cursed, indeed.

And it was the fabled Locket of Salazar Slytherin.

At once, he realized what this meant. Voldemort was far from gone and he had to act swiftly if he wanted to prevent another war. 

But first…

He relaxed on his chair, gazing through the open window at the starlit sky. “I want you to take my letters to the remaining members of House Black. They are undoubtedly aware that the rightful Lord Black is back.”

Chapter Text

Orion darted a glance at the clock mounted on the wall to the right of the fireplace. A quarter past three. The evening was going to be every bit as enjoyable and thrilling as a challenging game of chess. 

Perhaps even more so.

He looked at Ailith who was engrossed in a book.

Her gaze was glazed and unfocused, her fingers pressed to her cheek.

She failed to feign interest in whatever she pretended she was reading.

He knew that her mind was worn with uncertainty and dulled by the loss they suffered three days ago.

It was strange to think that she was the one woman he was destined to spend his remaining days with.

It was strange to think that this witch was his ideal match. 

Her gaze briefly met his and so much was said in their wordless exchange.

Bracing herself for what he was about to say, her spine went rigid and she closed the book slowly.

Kreacher stood huddled close beside her. Orion noticed that the elf spent most of his time following her like a lost puppy, eager to do her bidding. 

Ailith didn’t look particularly overjoyed by the turn their relationship took. It went without saying that she wasn’t fond of the elf considering what he did and how he had treated her in the past.

Nevertheless, he was certain that she would never abuse her power over him. It wasn’t who she was. Ailith Potter was innately good.

He knew how little she wanted to have company. However, it amused him how adept she was at masking her real thoughts and feelings. She would’ve fooled a lesser wizard.

Her control was applaudable if he were to consider her age and lack of proper training.

He took a seat next to her on the settee ignoring the way heat rushed into her cheeks. “It’s odd to think that I will be meeting Cygnus’ daughters and their kids. Did you know that Cygnus was my age?” His lips twitched when her eyes widened.

“Cygnus Black?” Her voice quavered.

“Yes. He’s Walburga and Alphard’s brother. He wasn’t a good man, far from it. His choices for his daughters’ husbands can attest to that,” he sighed.

“And what about Andy?” Her gaze bored into his and his smile widened.

“Are you asking if I am a blood purist?” he prompted gently.

She gulped the cup of Earl Grey tea Kreacher offered gratefully then began with blatant reluctance. “Yes…well—‘’ Her voice dropped to a whisper and she cast a glance toward the Family Tapestry. “Orion, I don’t know much about you. I’m sorry but Sirius seldom mentioned his family. If we are to pursue whatever this—“ she dropped her head, her face burning as her hand flailed between them.

A faint smile played across his lips. “You mean pursuing a relationship with me?” For whatever reason he could not name, he took immense pleasure in seeing her struggle to explain herself. 

Naturally, he knew what she wanted to say.

When her blush intensified, he decided to end her suffering. “I do not consider Muggleborns lesser. I’ve been taught that Magic is Might. From what little I grasped, your best friend—who is a Muggleborn—is the brightest witch of her age.”

Ailith took her time absorbing his words. “So, you don’t believe that Squibs and Muggles are unworthy?”

Orion wondered for a moment if she considered him a bigoted fool like Walburga.

The thought was so droll it provoked a single raised brow. There was nothing in common between him and Walburga. 

Nothing at all other than the hate he harboured towards her.

Every member of House Black true to their name had honour in them—honour that went soul-deep—and courage as strong as the roots of a mountain despite what everyone thought of them.

Preying on the weak went against everything he believed in.

Moreover, it would give him no satisfaction.

He was not a sick bastard like Pollux and Voldmeort’s sycophants. 

Cornering his foes and getting revenge on the other hand…

“You have nothing to fear, Ailith,” he placed his hand on her shoulder and gave her a gentle squeeze. “Surprisingly, Sirius took after me. I saw his memories through the Grim’s eyes. I regret not being there when he needed me most but, I was so far gone at the time.”

The colour drained from her face and her eyes grew wide. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to offend you. It’s just…I want to know more about you.”

Before she dropped her head again, he lifted her chin. “You don’t have to apologize. We can’t let his matter drop. Yes, Sirius was my son and I wasn’t there for him most of our short time together. Like you, it pains me to talk about the past but we cannot let go of the bitter memories and the grief. It’s the proof that those we once loved existed. We have to draw courage from our mistakes and remember that those we love will always remain in our hearts. You are entitled to mourn your godfather, to ask questions even if you think that they will most probably bother me, to argue with me. You are your own person with your own thoughts and beliefs.”

“Thank you. I needed to hear that,” she whispered then leant until her forehead pressed against his shoulder.

He savoured the warmth of her closeness for a moment then helped to her feet when the wards announced the new arrivals.

“They are here. I would understand if you do not want to meet them too soon.”

She placed her hand upon his arm and he saw the determination in her expressive eyes. “I can’t blame Narcissa and Andy for their sister’s crimes. Draco is a prat but I can always hex him as for Tonks, I consider her a friend. She’s been always nice to me. They’re part of my family now. The sooner I get to know them properly the better.”

Orion felt his breath leave him.

Family…

Yes, it was what he intended to have. A family made of the remaining members of The Noble and Most Ancient House Black.

Ailith was, unknowingly, acting like a proper Lady Black.

There was a stuttering in his chest when he remembered his mother. She was his father’s confidante and best friend. She spent her life being Arcturus’ pillar and partner.

It shook him how much he wanted that. How deeply Ailith understood him.

Orion’s assessing gaze went from Ailith’s face—which had gone blank—to the tall blonde following after Kreacher.

She returned his evaluating gaze with one of her own. Narcissa tried to look unruffled but that feat wasn’t easy when he was in full control of the Black web of stars.

He felt the quivers that went down her back and the uncertainty.

Narcissa Black was a tall, proud woman with eyes a shade of blue so light they appeared silver. He was certain she had recognized him at once. If she was surprised by his young appearance, she did not let it show.

Her lashes lowered slightly as she glanced down at his hand where the Lordship ring glinted.

“Merry Meet, Narcissa.” His voice was deep and textured like gravel wrapped in velvet.

Even if he looked like a green lad of twenty-one, he was anything but.

Every member of House Black had to know better than to cross him. It would be foolhardy to expect mercy if they acted anything like Bellatrix.

‘They won’t,’ the Grim avowed with unwavering confidence.

“They better not. I’m not eager to snuff another Black star,” he sighed inwardly.

“Merry meet, Lord Black,” she curtsied graciously. He didn’t lower his head or take her hand in his. She did not deserve that privilege right now. She had to understand that he did not trust her yet.

A glint of amusement appeared in his eyes when he noticed the silver-blond wizard cowering behind her. He tried to hide his nerves but his face betrayed him.

Lucius Malfoy did his son a disservice by not teaching him well. Another crime to add to the long list. Unfortunately, he was dead. He would’ve liked to have a long talk with the brute.

“Lord Malfoy, I presume?” 

The younger wizard seemed caught off guard by his sudden interest. He gaped and looked at him with startled eyes. “Y-yes! Merry Meet, Lord Black,” he stammered.

Orion stared at him blankly for a moment. When he didn’t take the hint, he decided to start with his education. “Weren’t you taught how to bow to your Lord properly?”

Bemused, Draco jumped a little when Narcissa nudged him. “Or perhaps you do consider yourself my equal considering you are Lord Malfoy now?”

Draco took a step back watching him with an expression of awe mingled with fear. 

He let some of his magic free and forced the startled wizard to meet his gaze.

Orion's eyes were dark as midnight, the Grim looking through them. “I’m sorry to disappoint you, Malfoy. Your meagre House can never measure up to House Black. You are our vassals. Your maternal grandfather should never have accepted Lucius’ proposal. He was not worthy to have a Black maiden as his wife.”

He felt anger kindle in his gut when Narcissa’s eyes became haunted. He wanted to berate her, to rage at her, to throttle her but she was innocent.

Another victim of a father’s ignorance and greed.

“So, bow properly. Your chin is to touch your sternum and do keep your eyes downcast when you do that. You cannot expect respect when you do not offer it. Consider this is your first lesson.” Ailith turned to look at him sceptically, and he smirked, his eyes gleaming with challenge.

He wasn’t being unreasonably cruel but he had no intention of being disrespected or disregarded again.

He would take that respect by force if need be.

“Do as Lord Black asks,” Narcissa said in an even voice despite her uneasy expression and he applauded her control.

‘’This should be interesting," Ailith muttered under her breath glancing at Draco who did as he was told. His face was flushed and his eyes over-bright to suppress his fear and humiliation.

“I apologize, Lord Black,” he breathed.

“Draco, I harbour no ill feelings towards you. I know you ought to blame me for your father’s regretful demise but you should remember this: the moment your father disregarded his family and followed Voldemort was the moment he had absolutely and utterly ceased being an honourable man and a worthy Patriarch of his House. He had to be put down. I do not doubt that he lost control of the Family Magic for magic is pure and fair. Mother Magic would never commend killing innocents,” came Orion’s succinct reply.

He was not fond of explaining himself but Draco was young and vulnerable. It was his duty to guide him.

Draco hesitated, tension seeming to spread through his taut body as he met his eyes. “I know. Father wasn’t the same after…” His gaze went inadvertently to Ailith and he heard the unspoken words.

“After Voldemort’s resurrection.” It was a statement.

Draco nodded. “He intended for me to take the Dark Mark this summer notwithstanding my wishes and desires.”

“Well, you don’t have to do that anymore. You are a free man, Draco. With your mother’s help, I do not doubt that you will restore your family's name and clean your father's shame. Come, let’s take a seat. Andromeda should be here soon,” he offered.

He guided them through the parlour and was overly entertained by the way Draco kept stealing glances at Ailith.

Her stride didn’t falter but he noticed the vivid enjoyment in her expression.

From what little he knew about her, she wasn’t fond of Narcissa’s son.

The exchange was too compelling for him to ignore. Slyly, he motioned for his guests to take a seat and said. “I’m certain you’ve made Lady Potter’s acquaintance previously. Aren't you yearmates, Draco?”

Draco paled, his eyes volleying between him and Ailith. “Yes, of course.”

He captured Ailith’s fingers and bestowed a lingering kiss on her knuckles. “And you know what happened in the Ministry.”

“We do,” Narcissa answered. “Minister Fudge’s statement was rather….enlightening.”

Ailith snorted. “I bet it’s full of lies."

“Do not worry, Ailith. He will not enjoy this power for long.” He shot a cool glance at Narcissa and Draco. “His reign is about to end. He’s ineligible for carrying such a heavy burden.”

“I agree,” Narcissa pursed her lips. “Our world changed drastically three days ago and we need a fresh take on how to run the Ministry of Magic.”

Orion nodded. “I find myself quite interested in the question of who should replace Fudge.”

“Maybe Amelia bones?” Ailith suggested.

Tucking the information in the back of his mind, he mulled over her words. He knew the woman from Sirius’ memories. She seemed like a staunch defender of law and order.

The question was, did she really have what it took to rebuild their world?

Even though Voldemort was almost gone, his ideologies were not. Not all his followers were at the Department of Mysteries the night he ended their pitiful existence.

The fight was far from over.

His eyes went to the scar on Ailith’s forehead and he caught the momentarily flicker in the shadow that lit her eyes from within.

He had to start a throughout research if he wanted to find the remaining containers of Voldemort’s butchered soul.

Considering how he tricked Ailith into rushing to the Ministry, there was no doubt in his mind that she carried at least a shard of his soul.

“Master Orion, Mistress Andromeda and her family are here,” Kreacher announced.

“Bring them in,” he ordered.

Orion returned Andromeda’s quizzical glance with one of his own.

The resemblance between her and Bellatrix was uncanny. However, where the latter’s magic was tainted, Andromeda was pure Black.

“Merry Meet, Lord Black,” she curtsied then ushered her husband and family forward. “This is my husband, Edward Tonks. Nymphadora, greet Lord Black properly,’' she added tersely.

“Mum!’’ The pink-haired woman whined as she executed a swift bow. “Don’t call me that, it’s Tonks.”

His brows raised in a silent query as Nymphadora studied his face. “Wow, you are Sirius’ father, indeed.”

He disregarded her lack of manners. “I am.” His mouth quirked into a smile. “You are a Metamorphmagus. That’s splendid. There weren’t any in our House since Lord Antares the Second.”

Nypmhdora—or Tonks for he did not wish to make her uncomfortable, grinned. “Yes, it is. Look.”

She blinked and her hair became bright orange. Her nose elongated until it resembled that of an elf and her eyes turned into a disturbing shade of purple.

“Nymphadora!” Andromeda hissed while her husband tried unsuccessfully to hide his snort.

He exchanged an exasperated glance with Ailith. She seemed to know what he was about to say.

Merlin’s Mercy…This was worse than what he had predicted.

Why did Cygnus’ daughters not teach their offspring properly? He did not want to sound like he was lecturing them. Not during this first meeting, but this…this recklessness was insufferable.

Edward hesitated for a moment then offered his hand. “Edward Tonks at your service, Lord Black.”

It was a test and he knew it. He met Muggleborns in Hogwarts and established a cordial relationship with them. He was quite familiar with their customs.

Edward Tonks seemed fascinated as Orion shook his hand. “Nice to meet you too, Mr Tonks.”

“Orion,” Ailith rasped and he heard the wonder in her voice.

When everyone was seated again, he directed his gaze to Andromeda. “I am aware of what happened when you refused to accept Amycus Carrow’s proposal and eloped with Mr Tonks.”

Andromeda tensed and squeezed her hands together in a blatant display of weakness. He sensed the agony in her magic and hated Cygnus more for causing his child so much pain.

“Worry not, Andromeda,” he continued. “You’ve been prevented from getting access to the web of stars for years. As much as it pains me to admit it, Sirius never took his duties…seriously. No one will question your affiliation with House Black again. I name you Andromeda Black Tonks and I name your daughter Nymphadora Black Tonks. So Mote Be It.”

Andromeda shuddered overwhelmed by the Black magic that claimed her again. She closed her eyes, her breath coming in short pants.

He could scarcely blame her. Family was everything.

Nymphadora gasped and held her slender fingers helplessly to her lips, her purple eyes wide in amazement. “It-it’s so beautiful.”

“It most definitely is,” he avowed, pride lacing his voice.

He looked down into Ailith’s face and explained. “Our family motto; Toujours Pur. It doesn’t mean the purity of the blood. Every Black has to keep their magic and their soul pure and intact. We are to keep the family bonds and nurture them for a constellation cannot be made of a single star hence the web that links every Lord Black to the rest of the family members. It’s every Lord Black's privilege to look after them and make sure they do not veer from the right path. My father, unfortunately, lost his will after my mother’s death. I was never available to carry that duty and then…you know what happened to Sirius. The spot has been vacant for years.”

“It sounds fascinating,” she breathed in wonder.

His eyes twinkled as he lowered his head and whispered, his breath teasing her earlobe. “You might become part of the web of stars one day, who knows?”

He willed himself not to grin when heat crept slowly into her cheeks the moment she understood his words.

“I see that Ailith is here,” Andromeda started slowly.

“And she will remain here as long as she wants. I am her Magical Guardian. A close…relative of hers trusted me with this honour. She can become more if she wishes to. Rest assured that I will never force my will on her. She’s too precious for that,” he spoke clearly because he could read her thoughts.

Andromeda’s sharp eyes studied him. “The Grim considers her his Mate. I can sense the budding bond between you.”

Draco and Nymphadora gasped, jerking their heads his way.

“You are a Sentient,” his expression grew thoughtful. “This is fascinating. Two Black gifts in a single family. Cygnus was most definitely a fool.”

He saw the shadow of hurt in her eyes and let the warmth of his magic comfort her. He knew firsthand how hard it was to be betrayed by those who were supposed to protect you.

Narcissa surprised everyone when she stood and took her sister’s hand in hers. “I’m sorry Andy. For everything. Father forced me to take a vow and never seek you again. It was broken after his death but…” Her eyes darted swiftly to her son. “Lucius wasn’t any better. He didn’t think much of Mr Tonks, no offence meant.”

“And none is taken,” Edward shook his head. “My Andy never stopped caring about her younger sister. You should know that.”

“Ted!” Andromeda’s voice was hoarse.

Narcissa leaned and kissed her sister's  forehead with so much tenderness. “We will never part again, I swear. It will take time to heal from Bella’s betrayal but together, we can do it. I need my sister back.”

“And you shall have her,” Andromeda took Narcissa’s face between her palms. “You are not alone.” Her voice deepened to a vow.

“Hey! Don’t forget about me!” Nymphadora joined the hug.

Orion smiled. “Perfect. I will need you all to accomplish what I have in mind.”

Ailith gripped his sleeve. When he looked down, he was almost blinded by her radiant smile. “Thank you. You did the impossible and managed to bring the two sisters together. Sirius used to tell me how close they used to be.” She hesitated for a moment before she whispered. “But did you have to mention duty and what you expect from them? What will they think of you now?”

She looked up at him with so much care and concern in her eyes. Orion’s heart nearly imploded from the tenderness on her face.

It was Narcissa who answered. “How could we be offended when bringing the family more glory is the highest honour a Black could be trusted with? Lord Black is right. We will use whatever is at our disposal to help him achieve his goals.”

Andromeda nodded. “I’m running a small law firm with Ted in Diagon Alley. We can help with the legal aspects of the family business, Lord Black.”

“I’ll be glad to do that,’’ Ted sounded eager.

“And I am an Auror. I can be your eyes and ears in the Ministry. I am also a Metamorph, I can blend in easily and…” Her voice trailed off when he cleared his throat.

“Tonks,’’ he started. “About that. Your talent is so valuable to use carelessly. Had I been there when you presented as a metamorphamagus, I would never have allowed you to let your gift become common knowledge. Do you know how rare you are? How lucky? How could you use your talent for practical jokes? Own your real face. Raise your head proudly and know that no one is worthy enough to criticize you. You are perfect just the way you are.”

Taken aback, Nymphadora gaped at him. She dragged in a ragged, heaving breath and tears glistened in her eyes. “Ho-how did you know?” her voice was small and uncertain.

“Nymphy?” Andromeda’s gaze volleyed between them.

“Because we are family,” he said simply.

The painful ache in her face receded. His magic drew out all the poison and low self-esteem that had been seeping into her soul ever since she was bullied in Hogwarts.

Did she think she was not interesting enough if she did not change her face?

“They don’t deserve you,” his eyes darkened to pitch black.

The puzzlement and disbelief that clouded her face disappeared at once.

Silver-grey bled into the annoying purple and her eyes shone brighter than any star. Her cheekbones became well-sculpted and sharp. The bridge of her nose became perfectly straight.

There was no question that she was Andromeda’s daughter; a proud daughter of House Black.

“Er. I think I’ll keep the pink hair. I love it.” A little wistful smile curved her lips.

“I can live with that,” he drawled.

Ailith snickered. “I love your hair colour, too. It suits you.”

With luck, Ailith wasn’t planning to change her hair’s colour.

Her eyes twinkled with mischief when he looked questioningly at her.

“Now, back to business.” His eyes darkened dangerously. “There’s much to do but let’s start with ending Fudge’s reign for good. Narcissa, I need you to lower your shields. I want to know everything about Lucius and his associates.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Ailith bit her lip as panic began to flutter through her body like a thousand tiny wings.

She hadn’t seen her friends in a week. The longest since they had started this school year.

Most importantly, the last she saw them they had been bleeding and barely standing.

She had not been herself lately, her feelings confusing even to herself. One moment she felt angry, the next near tears and the next she was lost in daydreams. 

Always at the centre of her thoughts was Orion Arcturus Black.

‘She can become more if she wishes to. Rest assured that I will never force my will on her. She’s too precious for that.’  His words echoed unbidden through her mind.

She had recognized the shadow of pain and uncertainty in Orion’s eyes despite his attempts at appearing cool and careless. She was unwilling to let him suffer any longer.

She was aware of how unusual their situation was. But to her, it didn’t seem odd at all.

The sweet delight of his nearness drove all else from her mind. She could lose herself in him; his magic comforting her in a way that ought to be unreal.

It was as if they were always meant to meet, always meant to be together.

It didn’t make sense at all, yet, it was the only truth she could believe after everything she went through.

She remembered how, emboldened, she rose to her feet and kissed his cheek before he left a moment ago.

His muscles tensed and when she looked up; cheeks blazing, she found him wearing an amused grin. He pressed a lingering kiss to her forehead then lifted her hand to his lips. “I have an appointment with Lord Ogden Fawley. He was my father’s friend. Despite his retirement, he still holds immense power over the Grey Faction. There’s much we have to discuss. Your friends should be here soon, have fun,” he said silkily.

With a mysterious smile, he disappeared.

Ailith sighed. Hermione better not spend the evening harrying her with questions she didn’t have answers to.

She could barely understand what was taking place.

“Your friends are here, Mistress Ailith,” Kreacher announced.

“Bring them in,” she said, covering her nerves with a bright smile.

“Ailith!” Hermione‘s arms shot out, caught her and held her in a crushing hug. She could barely breathe but she didn’t mind.

Hermione’s screams as Carrow tortured her still rang in her ears whenever she closed her eyes.

“Careful, ‘Mione,” Ron snorted. “She’s turning blue.”

Hermione’s face became a funny shade of scarlet. “Sorry! Did I hurt you? Were you injured during…” She bit her lip when she remembered what happened that night.

“I’m fine. Did Madam Pomfrey treat your wounds?” Despite her firm resolution, it was hard to meet Hermione’s gaze. She understood her so well. She was her first and best friend.

“We’re fine. Come here,” Ron urged her into his arms. He kissed her hair. Throat aching, she returned his hug and clung to him. 

Drawing back, he angled her head forcing her to meet his gaze. “Ginny, Luna and Neville wanted to join us. We didn’t want to overwhelm you. Maybe they can pay you a visit later.”

“Of course, they’re welcome here,’’ she nodded eagerly.

Ailith felt two pairs of eyes on her. “What?” Her brow furrowed.

“Let’s take a seat first,’’ Hermione led her toward the comfortable couch. 

Ron and Hermione sat nearby and chuckled when her eyes narrowed.

“So….Orion?” Hermione started carefully. “I didn’t know that coming back from the dead is possible. Wait…Does he know Voldemort’s secret? Did he use the same ritual?”

“Not again,” Ron groaned. "Er...How can you get an answer if you won’t let Ailith speak?”

“Sorry,” Hermione said in a rush, eyes wide. “It’s just…It’s unbelievable! You weren’t there when he jumped through the Veil. It was...” She shook her head. “Everyone froze. At first, I thought it was Sirius but—He was magnificent. He disposed of the Death Eaters swiftly.”

“He was rather scary. I thought he was going to attack us next,” Ron mumbled.

“Orion would never do that. He was helping us,” she explained, a strange feeling of protectiveness swelling in her chest.

Hermione said mischievously. “He was protecting you. He came back for you.” Ron looked uncomfortable with the turn the conversation took.

Hesitantly, Ailith nodded. “His ancestor gave mine an oath. He’s honour-bound to protect me.”

“Wow! The Potter Luck strikes again,” Ron whistled. She tried to punch his shoulder but he ducked. “Nice try, mate.”

“So, what are you planning to do? Thankfully, you don’t have to go back to Hogwarts till September. I’m sorry, but several lunatic reporters are looking for you wishing for an exclusive interview.”

Ailith scrunched her nose. The last thing she wanted was to get in touch with reporters again. Her experience with Rita Seeker scarred her for life.

“And that’s not even the half of it,” Ron grimaced. “Fudge declared he was aware of Voldemort’s return. He says he has been working with you in secret to catch Snake-Face. Can you believe the audacity of the wanker?”

“What?” she gasped.

“Yes. He’s shameless,” Hermione sighed.

Confused, she felt her stomach sink. As soon as it did, fire started coursing through her veins. She felt ill. Tears burned the backs of her eyelids.

He was the main reason Sirius was killed.

Trembling with rage, she felt blood rush from her head. “We can’t have that. He has to pay.” 

She would make him pay. 

“Ailith….” Hermione reached out and caressed her hand.

“What about Dumbledore?” 

Hermione and Ron’s silence was the answer she dreaded.

What the bloody hell was wrong with him? Since she’d first met him, he made her defy orders, endanger her life and that of her friends and come close to death time and again.

Perhaps he’d simply gone senile.

It had been close—far too close. She could have lost her life in the Ministry. Thankfully, Orion came back and she followed her gut and helped him.

She was done with Dumbledore. She would no longer follow his whims.

“If he doesn’t stand with me then he’s my enemy.”

Chapter Text

Orion had been taught well by his father and even though he never took his seat as Lord Black officially, he knew what he had to do.

Reaching goals could not happen arbitrarily. It could not happen overnight, either.

Not only did he need to plan everything carefully for the safety of Ailith and his family, but every step the other opposing party took should lead, without a doubt, to him. 

He had zero margin of error and no tolerance for mistakes. He couldn’t afford failure. It was no longer an option.

Some of his enemies needed to be dealt with care and fake concern, others needed to be threatened and blackmailed.

As for the rest, they needed to be acquainted with the harsh reality of standing between a Black and his prize.

He didn’t feel sorry for them. They made their choice and it was time they paid for it.

However, they had to believe they still had a choice even though it was snatched from their hands the night he came back.

It was not a question of options as much as how much he enjoyed playing with his prey before delivering the last blow.

Fudge, unfortunately, belonged to the last category. There was neither forgiveness nor second chances for him.

After he went through his main supporters and ended their annoying existence he did not need to look further to know that his power was wavering and his accounts were suffering.

As a result, he committed the deadly mistake—the last mistake he would ever commit—and added to Ailith’s distress.

How dare he lie so shamelessly after causing her so much grief?

For two weeks, he kept a low profile using his impeccable information-gathering and alliance-forming skills to move within the most influential families in Magical Britain.

Since he came back, he’d known exactly who his allies would be.

Even if they weren’t aware of it by the time he took the leap of faith and braved his anger and grief, they were already on his side whether they agreed or not.

He wasn’t ashamed of using his father’s name in order to accomplish his goals.

There was hardly any man more feared or respected in Magical Britain than Arcturus Sirius Black, the previous Lord of House Black, who’d inherited one of the oldest peerage titles in England. His reputation was so fearsome and venerated, in fact, that he outranked all his peers.

Orion being his son and sole Heir and—the noteworthy reminder that he conquered death itself and came back—worked wonderfully in his favour.

They understood that he was a perfect fit to keep Arcturus’ legacy alive and fill the vacancy his demise left.

Slowly but surely Orion planned what he had to do next. He was too smart to commit the amateur mistake of conquering the Wizengamot chambers without allies guarding his back.

Instead, he slithered his way inside his potential allies' hearts and snatched their trust either by conviction or blackmail.

Naturally, he wasn’t above using underhanded means to get what he wanted.

His long, graceful strides ate the distance between him and his rightful seat. His plum robes billowed behind him and the Sigil of House Black—A Grim wearing a crown made of thirteen stars and holding a dagger between his lethal jaws let his true allegiance be known to the world.

Nothing mattered but his family. The world could burn to ashes for all he cared.

He relished in the taste of respect and fear that followed his appearance. 

Was it too manipulative to let some of his magic out and savour the apprehension and terror in the eyes of those he intended to quash like the pesky cockroaches they were? 

Maybe.

But in order to take his rightful place at the top, it was imperative for them to understand that their days were numbered.

Some pale faces and wide eyes admitted their owners’ defeat before even the real battle started.

How disappointing…

Nott and Selwyn had the audacity to look him in the eye and he let the black of the Grim’s irises seep into his eyes.

They had managed to escape death by not being there. They would not survive the next encounter.

He didn’t pay the sweating Fudge any attention. Absolutely none. It was like he was invisible for the time being. He feared that his disdain would make the bastard erupt into flames before the show he spent weeks concocting started.

He had even forsaken sleep. The novelty of his life, the staggering need to see everyone who slighted him or his pay and the pain of the loss he suffered didn’t allow the comfort of shutting his brain and relaxing.

He feared that he could not sleep until he was done with his revenge. His mind was on high alert and his magic was eager to cause massive destruction.

Ailith was at the back of his mind every second of every day.

It amazed and scared him how much he cared about her. He had always been the type to play, never to be played with or care deeply. He had never gotten too close, never revealed his cards or allowed emotions into his decision-making process. But here he was in the Wizengamot Chambers, eager to avenge her and punish every fool who dared go against her interests.

She was somewhere in the guests' seats, under her Invisibility Cloak. She refused to make a public appearance too soon, too weary to deal with the vultures posing as reporters.

He cocked a brow up when a plump woman wearing a hideous haircut and looking disturbingly like a toad lifted her head like a monarch when he passed her by.

Interesting…

He knew who she was. Dolores Umbridge; Fudge’s Undersecretary and the harlot who dared torture Ailith.

Even though she never told him about the detentions, Sirius’ memories and the scar marring the skin of her hand attested to the horrors she went through.

‘The toad woman has to pay,’ the Grim growled. ‘I can almost taste her blood. It’s fetid and disgusting but I will have it. She’s mine.’

Orion’s smile was all teeth. “You can have her later. Let’s take care of Fudge first.”

‘Can I—‘ The Grim’s keenness was infectious but he knew better than to comply with the creature’s desires.

“Aren’t you bloodthirsty today?” he sighed. “Weren’t you there when I put my plans in motion for today?”

‘Plans are boring. I can always get rid of this bunch of weaklings. They are nothing but a nuisance.’

‘’They are but I need to remind them who’s in charge. So, be a good dog and watch.”

The Grim growled in indignation but he ignored him.

Had he been a wizard with lesser self-control, he would’ve tripped when Dumbledore gave him a wide grin.

The audacity of the man. He stood there like a statue as Ailith begged him to help the Grim and end Voldemort’s life like he was supposed to.

Lord Pucey rushed in his direction, he almost collided with him. He was followed by Lord Greengrass, Lord Montague, Lord Flint and most importantly Lord Warrington; the Head of the Neutrals.

He exchanged a small nod with the stoic man but it was enough to assuage his misgivings.

The Neutrals had decided to have his back and overthrow Fudge.

The hours he spent negotiating with them after Lord Fawley invited them to his manor bore their fruits.

He contemplated the vacant seats and fought the raging need to bring the bastards he killed back from the Underworld so he could torture them again.

The Dark faction was at its weakest thanks to the greedy fools who ruined his father’s hard work.

Lord Burke and Lord Jugson looked at him with horror. Lord Nott and Lord Selwyn pretended he wasn’t there.

His narrowed eyes went to Lord Rookwood and Lord Yaxley. It astonished him that the first was rumoured to be a secret follower of Voldemort’s ideologies while the latter was a mystery, to say the least.

The Rookwoods had been Unspeakables for generations. Their shrewd minds were well-suited to solve enigmas and find answers to the most puzzling mysteries.

The Yaxleys were Duellists and Masters of Battle Magic. Neither was suited to be a follower.

They were natural-born alphas.

He understood that he needed to secure a meeting with both as soon as possible and decide if they were worth his time. 

House Black needed strong allies, more so now that the Grim had disposed of half of the Lords of the Dark faction.

‘I could do with a simple thank you.’ Smugness oozed from the Grim’s voice.

“Not with the kind of trouble I have to go through thanks to your incurable bloodlust,’’ Orion fired back.

Orion straightened his back when Fudge cleared his throat, his mask firmly in place. He stared blankly as the fool blabbered nonsense about a time of peace, unity and rebuilding.

As if he would ever allow him to be part of the future. He was a mistake. A past mistake he was about to erase.

At times like this when he had to suffer insufferable idiocy, he contemplated just closing his eyes and ceding all control to the Grim but then he remembered that he had so much to do, too many places to go, and unfinished business to attend to.

Most importantly, he remembered the promise he made to the weaker, younger version of himself when he lost everything he believed in; when his body, his magic and his mind failed him.

I will never be weak again. I will be so strong that no one can reach me.

Orion was under the binding obligation to keep that promise and never fall into the pit of hopelessness again.

He would never allow himself to be stomped upon and ordered around again.

He would be high…so high that no one would dare look him in the eye or think about harming him or his.

And he would never, ever stoop so low again.

“Before we start the seven hundred twenty-sixth Wizengamot session and present the new proposals, let’s greet among our body the new arrival. I know that most of you have been wondering after we managed to end the He-Who-," Fudge flushed like a rotten tomato and used a handkerchief to blot sweat off his neck. “I mean the D-Dark Lord V-Voldemort’s reign.”

Orion sneered at the weakling’s brittle voice.

How could someone like him be trusted with the Ministry of Magic and the fate of millions?

“Well, I was there and so was Lord Orion Arcturus Black.”

A commotion started and everyone struggled to take look at him. Through the unwelcome inspection, Orion looked straight ahead, a bitter taste of annoyance clogging his throat.

He raised a brow, looking pointedly at Fudge and the latter stammered. “I urge you kindly not to bother Lord Black or-or ask him about the circumstances of his return.”

‘Can I suggest a permanent solution to get rid of him?' The Grim growled.

Orion ignored his creature and kept his bored expression. He didn’t mind the scrutiny. It wasn’t like he planned to hide and keep his return a secret.

He was here and he should as well enjoy every moment.

Umbridge cleared her throat. ‘’Hem, Hem.”

He swore that when he was done with her, she would wish that the Centaurs had finished her off.

“Shouldn’t Lord Black explain himself? His return is suspicious, not to mention the massacre he partook in. He isn’t above the law and he has to answer to the Ministry of Magic.” Her smile was triumphant and cringe-worthy.

Fudge tried to make her stop but she defied him so blatantly.

“Are you perchance insinuating that I am an impostor?” he asked lazily.

She froze, rooted to the spot when he lifted his left hand and showed her the Lord Ring. “Or maybe you think that anyone can wear this ring? Are you saying that House Black’s Family Magic is so weak it could not recognize its rightful Lord anymore? Are you looking down on my family?”

The onslaught of sarcastic questions made the woman tremble with nerves and helplessness.

“I-I didn’t say that!’’ she shrieked.

Lord Warrington rose to his full height, a feat considering he was an imposing man. “Madam Umbridge, I am afraid that you just slighted Lord Black upon his return, not to mention that you should be thanking him considering what he did a couple of weeks ago.”

‘’I was merely wondering about his sudden appearance. It’s not like you are not dying to know his secret,” she tried to justify her insolence, digging a deeper grave for her rotten soul.

“You weren’t asking,” Orion’s cold and apathetic eyes went to her red face. “You were demanding answers from me. Answers I do not want to give.”

“Lord Black, please, she didn’t mean to insult you,” Fudge tried unsuccessfully to placate him.

Well, he couldn’t be placated considering he was waiting for this confrontation.

“I am afraid I cannot do that,” he said with a lethal voice. “Madam Umbridge belongs to a minor House. She’s a mere Undersecretary and she has no business to be here to begin with. To have the audacity to accuse the Lord of one of the oldest Ancient Houses in Magical Britain of a heinous crime such as theft is unacceptable.”

His expression remained the same, except for a smidgen of amusement as he retrieved his wand and aimed it at her. “I, Orion Arcturus Black swear on my honour and on my magic that I am not an impostor nor do I harbour any malicious intentions like Madam Dolores Umbridge so kindly suggested, So Mote Be It.”

A huge Grim leapt from the tip of his wand. The bright creature plummeted toward a bone-pale Umbridge, roared then dissipated in a shower of stardust.

“I hope that this demonstration took care of any doubt you had.” His diamond gaze went to the assembled Lords and Ladies watching him with varying expressions of awe, fear and puzzlement. “I mean you no harm but harm me or mine and you shall pay. I give you my word.”

“There is no need for that, Lord Black,” Dumbledore intervened at last.

His time would come eventually. But not today.

The supposed leader of the Light had left his son to rot in Azkaban for thirteen years knowing what the Dementors could do to a Wix; a Black in particular.

Members of House Black were prone to madness and Sirius’ plight was a testament to his inner power.  His dear son had suffered for years but he never gave up, never bowed or cowered.

“I have to disagree,” Orion spoke calmly. “You cannot expect me to respect this body if it doesn’t respect me.”

His eyes tapered to a stormy grey when Dumbledore’s intrusive gaze bore into his.

No, surely he wouldn’t dare look in his mind or…would he?

He stood there unblinking, waiting for the old man to make up his mind. The Grim urged him to set him free so he could wrap his jaws around Dumbledore's frail throat or slam him against the ground.

Dealing with a man of Albus Dumbledore’s calibre wasn’t that simple. Brute force or outright hostility wouldn’t work with him. Unfortunately for Dumbledore, Orion had always been proud of his ability to remain calm and hide his inner thoughts.

It took some time for that side of him to grow, however, thanks to his father’s arduous training, as soon he started Hogwarts, no one could get into his head without his permission.

Not his father, not his mother, not his sister. Not even Walburga after she poisoned his magic. He had always been self-sufficient and entirely self-reliant. As a result, no one could provoke him.

That steel-like will was being tested to its limits right now as Dumbledore contemplated what to do with him.

Thankfully, Lord Montague broke the intensity of the moment when he spoke. “I believe we should hear Lord Black out. I’m certain he has a lot to share with us, other than educating Madam Umbridge, that is.”

Orion nodded absentmindedly and looked at Fudge. “Minister Fudge. Were you insinuating that you were part of the battle that took place in the Department of Mysteries a couple of weeks ago?”

“I-I…” Fudge paled and started shaking.

“Did you? I was made to think that you spent the previous year trying to tarnish Lady Potter’s reputation and attack her character. You were adamant that she was a liar and a disturbed child with a questionable conduct. You never cared when you launched your smear campaign, notwithstanding the evidence and the fact that you were abusing your power over a Lady of the Sacred Twenty-Eight and a minor at that.” 

Orion’s anger kept building as he spoke. He never had a volatile nature and his patience had never dimmed so easily but he could barely restrain himself from lunging at the fool looking at him with bulging eyes and trembling limbs.

There was also the fact that Fudge had supposedly ordered his Undersecretary to take care of his problem before the school year started.

Lazily, he took his seat back and clasped his hands to form a steeple at his chin, then leaned his elbows at the table and feigned intrigue.

“Also, I find myself wondering about the Dementors’ incident. Lady Potter had almost lost her soul and that of her Muggle cousin to a couple of Dementors who should’ve been guarding Azkaban. It goes without saying that only a high-ranking Ministry official could dispatch a Dementor. It makes sense with how eager you were to get rid of her and silence her for good. You asked your Undersecretary to ‘take care of your problem’ like she confessed while torturing Lady Potter. If by ‘take care of it’ you meant murder, then I am surprised that you are still here, sitting on that chair and presiding this session.”

“I-I never did that! I would never…” Fudge shouted with a strangled voice.

“You have to be more specific, Minister,” Orion smirked. “I am going to take a wild guess and say that you didn’t order Madam Umbridge to send the Dementors. But did you or did you not antagonize Lady Potter for months and endanger her wellbeing?”

“Lord Black, please,” Fudge swayed on his feet.

“You are also going to be more specific with your begging,” a red haze almost blurred his vision. Every part of his being called ravenously for the traitor’s blood.

He had passed the stage of finding excuses and moved on to the execution part.

They had to pay dearly.

Every single one of them.

“No,” Fudge whimpered and shook his head vehemently.

Orion’s hawk-like focus was all on him. “That’s right. Lie again. I cannot help but find that we have to fix that behaviour problem of yours.”

“If the grave accusations Lord Black mentioned are true,” Lord Warrington cleared his throat, “I have to say that you have completely lost my trust, Minister and therefore, as the Leader of the Neutrals I find it my duty to bring justice to this honoured body.”

“Not only your trust, Lord Warrington,” Dowager Longbottom looked down her nose at the cowering minister. “You should lose your life. I see you as nothing but an enemy.”

“My Lady,” Fudge’s voice came shaky.

“Cornelius…” Umbridge appeared stunned for a second then recovered. “I-I was trying to help, I swear.”

“Shut it you fool!” Fudge thundered. “I never ordered you to set the Dementors on Potter. I never asked you to torture her with an Unforgivable too. Why? You ruined my career!”

Orion enjoyed the way most of the audience looked at Umbridge. Their heated glares threatened to gauge her eyes out of their sockets and rip her body.

He shut down the alluring voice of the Grim as a muscle worked on his jaw.

Death was too little a punishment for the woman who dared scar Ailith’s skin.

His gaze went to Dumbledore and he fought the need to grin. It was subtle, almost unnoticeable but he noticed the way he flinched. At last, the old man understood that he wasn’t going to make it easy for him.

He was there while Ailith was tortured time and again. As Hogwarts Headmaster, it was his duty to protect every single student. The bastard had turned his back on her and instead of explaining what was going on and assuaging her fears, he opted to leave her in the dark for months.

Nothing, absolutely nothing, could explain his attitude. He was a manipulative, narcissistic bastard.

Unlikely for him, he had never predicted Orion’s return. His reign had reached its end and it was about time his ego splintered to pieces.

Madam Bones’ lips thinned. She put her quill down and locked her eyes with him. “Lord Black, your accusations are quite grave. I’ve been privy to some of the incidents that took place in Hogwarts this year. My dear niece reported how unfairly Lady Potter had been treated by Madam Umbridge. Unfortunately, there was no evidence so we could prepare a warrant and catch the culprit also,” her sharp eyes went to Dumbledore. “The Headmaster failed to report these incidents and I wonder why.”

“I’m afraid I wasn’t on good terms with Minister Fudge by the time Umbridge tortured Ailith. I wasn’t even aware of what took place during the aforementioned detentions. You cannot expect me to follow Ailith at all times. The welfare of hundreds of students lies in my hands and I cannot show blatant favouritism.” 

Orion had to reinforce his hold on his Occlumency Shields before he actually acted on his instincts and set the Grim free.

“So you find it quite normal that a student was tortured for months in the establishment you were supposed to run?” Lord Greengrass blurted. “How could you?”

“You never had my trust and now, I understand why,” Dowager Longbottom glared up at him. 

Orion slid his attention to Fudge who was cowering.

He didn’t want to divert the attention from the main problem. They could always deal with Dumbledore later.

He was surprised when Lord Yaxley stood with the grace of a predator and cleared his throat.

By the reaction of the audience, it wasn’t hard to guess that he seldom intervened. “Without dragging this further, I ask Lord Black to present his evidence, Mr Fudge and Madam Umbridge are to be questioned under Veritaserum and,” he exchanged a fleeting glance with Lord Rookwood. “Naturally, a vote of no confidence will have place after. Either way, Mr Fudge needs to leave. His actions are a disgrace. He is no longer fit to carry this burden.”

Determination flooded Lord Corban Yaxley’s voice and Orion couldn’t help but feel relieved. If he wanted to rebuild a strong Dark faction, he needed allies with Yaxley’s mindset and resilience.

He needed bold people ready to fight for their rightful place among their brethren because Dark Magic wasn’t evil. It wasn’t something to fear and shun. It wasn’t their fault that they had a Dark affinity, that they found it easy to wield offensive magic.

The new generation had to be taught that.

Fudge looked pathetic as he confessed all his wrongdoing and sang his crimes like a simpleton. Orion tried to remain detached so he would not attack him and end his miserable existence once and for all.

Umbridge took his seat after and he averted his gaze when the Unspeakables played Ailith’s memories on the Pensive Madam Bones ordered to be brought.

The mere thought of Ailith writing the words with her blood made him shiver with unfiltered fury.

His eyes were pitch black as he glared at Umbridge’s back. He was not done with her. Even Azkaban would not protect her from his wrath.

Things ran smoothly after Fudge and Umbridge were dragged to Azkaban by an eager Alastor Moody and a stoic Kingsley Shaklebolt. He recognized Tonks' pink hair as she joined them, her eyes throwing daggers at Umbridge.

The sheer lightness that filled the Wizengamot chambers after was delightful.

It didn’t take long for the present Lords and Ladies to make a vote and as expected, Madam Amelia Bones was elected the new Minister of Magic. He didn’t know much about her other than she was an honourable and fair woman respected even by her enemies.

A shadow fell over him and he tilted his head to meet Lord Corban Yaxley’s dark gaze. “Merry Meet, Lord Black.”

Orion stood slowly and offered a nod. “Merry Meet, Lord Yaxley. Your father was a dear classmate.”

Yaxley’s expression didn’t shift. “You may call me Corban, Lord Black. I know we will meet again. Soon. If my hunch is right, you have many plans for our faction and I am eager to show those bigoted bastards that we are not done, far from it.”

“We are tired from hiding behind the Neutrals' skirts,” Lord Rookwood drawled as he joined them. “We’ve been silent for decades and it’s a travesty.”

When Orion looked at him expectantly. Rookwood bowed his head. “Merry Meet, Lord Black. I apologize but I find myself excited at the prospect of rebuilding our faction.”

Orion rose to his full height. “Merry Meet, Lord Rookwood. And you are right. Our voice needs to be heard. Also, you can be at ease in my presence. Like Corban insinuated, we are going to meet again.”

Orion understood that he had to be patient, understanding and open-minded if he wanted to build new connections.

His eyes studied Augustus Rookwood's face and he smirked inwardly. Befriending a Master Unspeakable for instance was a win. He knew he would require his services soon.

After all, he had a couple of Horcruxes to hunt and a leech to get rid of.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The feeling of being powerless and unable to stop writing despite the scorching pain made her skin crawl.

Nausea filled her throat then she tasted blood.

Her blood.

Too much blood.

She hated being weak, being forced to lower her head afraid she would make Umbridge angrier.

But how could McGonagall and Dumbledore expect her to go through this for months?

At first, she thought she was strong-minded enough to not be affected by torture but she clearly had overestimated herself.

The image of the parchment soaked in her blood became blurry and all of a sudden, she was back at the Department of Mysteries.

She opened her mouth to scream but no sound left her dry throat. She watched wide-eyed as the Veil swallowed Sirius, her Sirius, taking him away from her.

Forever.

Part of her was trapped helplessly in that moment. She struggled to escape or at least, try to follow him but she couldn’t move her limbs.

With a gasp, Ailith opened her eyes.

Breathe….

She needed to breathe….

Her heart was beating wildly, her chest too small for it. With a shaking hand, she flicked her wand and whispered: ‘Tempus’. It was 4:00 AM and again, she couldn’t sleep due to the recurring nightmares.

She bit her lower lip to hide her whimpers and was startled when moisture slid down her pale cheeks. She tasted salt and she realized she was crying, again.

What was wrong with her?

She didn’t even know that she was crying.

Would she ever have a nightmare-free night?

It was over. Voldemort was dead, Fudge and Umbridge were in Azkaban and she was safe. However, her brain didn’t seem to catch up yet.

Her head collapsed against the headboard with a thud and she closed her eyes with a pained sigh then tapped her chest, fruitlessly trying to eliminate the knot that was growing there.

She stilled, her eyes going to the door when she heard a faint noise. She was startled when Orion came through the door in his black silk sleepwear.

He stopped by her bed, watching her with silver-grey eyes. His expression was neutral and she was thankful that she glimpsed no pity there. She didn't want his pity. Would never accept it.

She wasn’t powerless.

Since she met him, she felt the power lurking beneath his perfect exterior. Nothing seemed to faze him. In the short period they spent together, she came to consider him her rock; someone she could rely on.

A moment ticked by as he studied her chaotic state then, without a word, he closed his eyes. She knew what he was about to do even before the majestic Grim stood before her.

All black, all menacing, all invincible.

He was a predator, an omen of death but not to her. The Grim would never harm her.

He was her Guardian, her companion.

She threw the covers away and watched spellbound as he complied and settled next to her. His intelligent eyes watched her; kind and patient. His huge head rested on his paws, lethal claws retracted.

Ailith shivered against him as her arms wrapped tightly around his neck and her nails dug into the soft fur. She sniffled, the soft sound highlighted by the silence in the room. 

Gently, he laid a paw on the middle of her back, making her sniffle louder. The sound was like a constant shrill ripping the stillness of the night.

“I need to become stronger so no one can hurt me again,” she whispered against his fur. “I need to rise again. To make Sirius and my parents proud. Would you help me? Would you….train me?”

A teary smile lifted the corners of her lips when he growled and licked her cold hand almost lovingly.

At last, she was safe, warm and cared for.

She was home.

Chapter Text

Ailith realized that she couldn’t just stop looking at Orion the moment she saw him. 

There was no end in sight for her awareness whenever he was around. It got worse since he found out about the nightmares and spent almost every night in her bed.

In his Grim form, of course. 

But…

She cursed her age and inexperience and swallowed thickly then faced him with mock confidence. She took refuge in the fact they were in the duelling room practising as per her request.

She was surprised when he agreed readily the moment she asked him to train her. 

Her feet came to a halt in front of him and she had to look up because he was unfairly tall. 

His iridescent eyes studied her posture slowly—making her fight the instinctive need to fidget, then he uncrossed his arms, letting them fall on either side of him. ‘’The training you received in Hogwarts was dreadfully lacking,” he sighed as he ran his gaze over her face in a manner that made her sense how displeased he was with that realization. “I cannot understand how could Dumbledore expect you to win in a duel against Voldemort or any of his senior Death Eaters for that matter with what little you’ve been taught. You have a long way to go, Ailith.”

“I’m not helpless,” she lifted her chin in defiance. “I managed to thwart his attempts at murdering me time and again. I survived.”

“That, you did.” A smirk curved his lips. “But you can do better. You are better than what you think.”

The pit of her stomach felt queer and fluttery at his words and she looked at the floor, beaming with pride despite the splash of red that exploded on her neck.

For an uncanny reason, his opinion mattered. 

A lot.

In the time they spent together, she came to realize what a great man he was. He was an accomplished wizard with a keen mind and sharp reflexes. His understanding of magic was deep and different. It opened her eyes to possibilities she hadn’t considered prior to meeting him.

It hurt to remember the kind of horrors he had to go through but there was no place for the bitter past between them now.

All that mattered was the future.

She didn’t waste time and flicked her wand, throwing an Impediment Jinx at him. Not only did he duck, but he also hit her with the same spell making her freeze momentarily with an effortless ease.

The blow to her pride throbbed painfully but she narrowed her eyes and gripped her wand tighter. All the while, Orion remained put, his expression calm and watchful. He had an unnerving way of looking at people as if he were able to read the deepest minds and the darkest secrets.

“Again,” he beckoned her. “You are a natural. You have the speed and the raw power. What you need is to step out of your comfort zone and understand that Magic is Might. There is no Light and Dark. Intention is all that matters. A real duel cannot be won with a first or second’s year charms.”

When her brows furrowed, Orion’s remained the same: timeless and serene as he explained. “Don’t fear your magic, Ailith. Don’t fear what you can do. It’s criminal how much Dumbledore had altered the new generation’s understanding of Magic. Dark does not equal evil. You can kill with a simple Tripping Jinx or heal with a Crucio.”

Ailith tilted her head to the side, absorbing his words like a sponge. She noticed that whenever he wanted to teach her something, he didn’t do it in a way that made her feel ignorant or stupid. He was firm in his resolution to make her question everything she knew and make her own opinions that she physically felt each and every word of his.

She nodded stiffly and aimed her wand at him again. 

Maybe it was time for her to look into the Black Library and forget Sirius’ warning about how Dark and lethal the spells his ancestors’ invented were.

Maybe it was time for her to stop being the Golden Girl and embrace her true self because if there was one thing she knew about herself, it was that she was not golden or innocent, far from it.

She made her first kill at the age of eleven. 

Experienced what a Crucio did to a witch’s nerves. 

Lay in her blood still and defendless.

Got bitten by a Basilisk…by an Acromantula …

She watched as her beloved godfather was taken away from her. 

Watched her best friends being subjected to torture beyond their years.

Ailith knew that there were sides to her other people were not supposed to witness under any circumstances.

There were dark shadows, jaded edges, and the whole package of untouched corners.

Most of all, there were parts that she was taught to ignore and hide. 

But the Dursleys and Dumbledore and Magical Britain overlooked a crucial fact.

Ailith Potter was not an innocent.

She was a survivor.

A fighter.

Were she the same child with troubled emotions and an unquenchable thirst for attention, she would’ve cared. However, she did not need to hide anymore.

That night a couple of months ago had set her free.

With a battle cry, she sent a Cutting Curse at Orion. Her eyes widened when the most beautiful smile she had ever seen lifted his lips at that.

By the time the duel was over, he didn’t even look tired or like he’d exerted any amount of energy.

Ailith, on the other hand, stood on unsteady feet barely staying upright.

But she was feeling…exhilarated. Happier than she’d been in years.

He reached down and gently, touched her cheek. She turned her head until her lips nudged his palm with a tenderness she knew instinctively was reserved solely for him.

“Thank you,” she whispered. “I needed this.”

He pinned back the wild locks that escaped her braid and kissed her on the forehead. “Never thank me for caring about you.”

She smiled up at him. “I won’t stop thanking you, Orion. Thank you for coming back for me.”

She didn’t know if she was overstepping any boundaries but she was past caring. She might be young and inexperienced, but, she knew that what she had with Orion was special.

She let her head drop on his chest flattening her palms on his pectorals and listening to his steady heartbeat while basking in the Dark, alluring magic cocooning her.

She was not alone. 

Never again .

His arms went around her shoulders and she sighed.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Orion cocked a brow up when Kreacher grinned without shame. “Kreacher is certain that Mistress Ailith is going to enjoy the surprise.”

He lowered his cup of tea. “And now, we have to make sure that she suspects nothing. Did you send the invitations?”

Kreacher pursued his lips and his complexion became pallid. “Kreacher did as Master asked. Mistress Narcissa and Mistress Andromeda were wonderful. But…”

At his nod, the reluctant elf shuddered and said miserably. “Mistress Ailith’s friends warned me against upsetting her again. They were hard on poor Kreacher. But Kreacher loves Mistress Ailith, he intends to serve her until he dies and joins his mother.”

Orion shook his head. He met Miss Granger, Miss Lovegood and Mr Weasley. He knew they would never inflict permanent damage on his elf but it was hard to forget the past.

Whether intentionally or not, Kreacher was among the reasons Sirius died. It would not be easy to forget his crime.

“Don’t worry about them, Kreacher,” Orion said gently. “They don’t know you as well as I do. They will come to understand that it was not your fault.”

Kreacher stopped breathing for a moment then tears of despair and gratitude started sliding down his wrinkled cheeks. “Thank you, Master,” he muttered on a hoarse breath.

Relaxing back in his chair, he thought about Ailith’s training.

She was doing very well considering how new she was to this. She had the natural grace, the instincts and the raw power of a true duelist. What she was missing was experience.

Someone else would’ve given up already or admitted defeat.

Not Ailith Potter.

Every morning she came back to the dueling room dressed in the Dragon Hide robes he commissioned for her ready to learn more.

The time he spent teaching her became a routine he was quite fond of.

The highlight of his day wasn’t working on forging more alliances, gathering information or slowly stripping the control Dumbledore had over many prominent families anymore.

It was there, in the dueling room waiting for Ailith to appear with that eager, defiant expression on her face.

Sometimes, it worried him how much he came to care about her. How much he wanted to put a smile on her face. He found it fascinating that she had this type of hold on him, especially since he had never been as attuned to another person’s needs as he was to hers. This dark possessiveness should scare him but no matter how much he questioned himself, he couldn’t help it

‘Maybe because she is ours and it is our duty to make her happy,’ the Grim offered unnecessarily.

“But she’s too young for me,” he sighed.

‘Age does not matter for Wixen,’ the Grim snorted. ‘It’s not like you will hold a Bonding Ceremony any time soon. Nevertheless, you have to court her properly. To show her that we are the best option there is.’

Orion suppressed the need to groan. “Doesn’t this sound like I will be doing all the hard work while you keep watching and claiming she’s yours as well?”

The Grim’s amused voice carried in his head. ‘Well, she is ours and you are convenient. I cannot court her properly. I can, however, keep her safe. Always.’

Orion was speechless. He was reduced to…convenient now?

That was certainly the first time anyone had ever used that word for him. He was many things but convenient was certainly not one of them.

His hand flexed and unflexed while he contemplated a comeback.

He was interrupted when Kreacher appeared at the door. “Master Orion, Lord Rookwood is here to see you. Should Kreacher bring him here or take him to the…”

“Bring him here, Kreacher,” he ordered. 

Kreacher bowed. “Of course, Master.”

Orion watched Rookwood closely as he glided inside his office. He was a tall, graceful man. His bottomless, dark eyes were alert with the devil’s own intelligence. He exuded a confident and worldly Aura. Not that Orion was surprised. He did his research thoroughly.

Lord Augustus Rookwood could be an invaluable ally or a ruthless foe. Orion was not stupid to be fooled by the calm, non-threatening face the wizard offered to the world. 

Rookwood had no loyalty but to himself and to his House. 

However, Orion was certain that he could entice the Unspeakable with the offer he had in mind.

For even though Rookwood was smart, abundantly rich and powerful, he had a weakness.

A weakness Orion intended to play on in order to lure him into helping him.

There was something Rookwood valued above all the aforementioned things.

Knowledge.

Orion came around the desk and offered his hand. “Welcome to Grimmauld Place, Augustus.”

Augustus bowed his head slightly. “Thank you for the invitation, Orion. Truth to be told, I’ve never been to the Blacks’ stronghold. I surmise the stories were true. I can feel the Sentient Magic saturating the air. It’s so…alluring.”

“I’ll take your words as the highest of compliments,” Orion offered curtly. “Please, do take a seat.”

Discussing his Family Magic was his least favourite subject.

Blacks guarded their secrets covetously; like Dragons guarded their treasure.

Augustus seemed to take the hint. He took the seat opposite to him and waited patiently. Considering he was the one who invited him, Orion was aware that the master manipulator wouldn’t make it easy for him.

Unruffled, he made a temple of his hands and started. “I will assume that you are more knowledgeable than most about what took place in the Department of Mysteries two months ago.”

Augustus’ smile was forced. “How could I forget when that band of heathens demolished my workplace? Thanks to them, we spent a fortnight cleaning the mess they left behind. We lost many priceless relics, ancient texts and experiments we were working on. And then,” he smirked. “Your spectacular entrance didn’t make it any easier for us. I can only guess that the Grim wasn’t pleased at all.”

‘Would you like to see me enraged?’ The Grim bared his fangs.

“Behave,” Orion chided. “We need him.”

‘Well, make it quick. He’s a slippery bastard and I hate the lot of them.’

Augustus’ dark eyes shone like two coals. “Quite interesting. I can sense the link you have with your creature. Not quite the normal bond a wizard forges with his Animagus. You are not exhibiting any traits from your Grim while you are in your human form, however….” His words trailed off when he adopted a thoughtful expression.

‘Is he…trying to figure me out?’ the Grim was most certainly not pleased.

“He wouldn’t dare,” Orion’s smile was all teeth.

He cocked a brow up and gazed at Augustus. Black bled into silver-grey until his eyes became darker than the lowest pit of hell.

“Er…I might take my words back,” Augustus sounded thrilled. “No fangs or tails, I presume?”

“None,” Orion said coolly. “And that’s the extent of what I will share with you, Augustus. I’m certain you understand.”

“Of course,” Augustus nodded. “Knowledge is power. Rest assured that I will keep this information to myself.”

“I know,” he drawled. “Now, back to business.” He ignored the slight pang of worry he felt at the prospect of sharing Ailith’s deepest secret with a stranger.

Thankfully, there was a solution. One that Augustus might consider rude and unreasonable but Orion Arcturus Black wasn’t one to trust people easily.

He learned his lesson the hard way.

“What I am going to share with you is of utmost importance. It is the answer to a riddle I’m sure you’ve tried to solve time and again. However, I demand an Unbreakable Vow before elaborating any further.”

Augustus surprisingly didn’t seem insulted at all. “If you are going to such lengths to protect this secret I can only surmise that it concerns Lady Potter.”

Augustus was too resourceful for his own good, indeed.

“It does concern people I care about,” he replied curtly, clearly not wanting to discuss the subject before getting what he wanted.

The Unbreakable Vow.

“You can refuse and I will have no choice but to look for another Unspeakable. He might not have your skills, but he will have my trust,” he added, his diamond eyes boring into Augustus’ interested ones.

Augustus rubbed his chin. “Now, you got me intrigued. Will I be in immediate danger after I learn whatever you are hiding?”

“No. Unless you betray me, that is. Hence the Unbreakable Vow.”

Orion wore a blank expression while he waited for Augustus to come to a decision.

“Let’s do it,” he said firmly. 

Subtly, Orion composed himself and offered his arm. Augustus took it without hesitation.

Eyes locked, they recited the wording of the Unbreakable Vow.

As soon they disentangled their hands, Augustus cleared his throat. “What is it?”

“I know the secret behind Voldemort’s immortality. He created Horcruxes.”

Augustus’ expression remained the same, stonelike and thoughtful. “I cannot say I am surprised. The idea had crossed my mind several times only, I could not believe that someone got his hands on Herpo the Foul’s journals. I’ve been trying for years. I exhausted my resources and paid exorbitant prices to Treasure Hunters but the result remained the same. I couldn’t find anything.”

Orion looked mildly amused as he explained. “That would be because Dumbledore got his hands on them first. I suspect that he found them among Grindelwald’s possessions after he imprisoned him.”

Augustus’ eyes flared slightly in interest. “Are you sure?”

He nodded. “Father had always suspected him. He made it his mission to uncover his truth. Did you know that Dumbledore and Grindelwald were lovers before they split up? That’s why it took him years to confront him. I don’t know what happened exactly but I know that Dumbledore is not what he claims to be. But who would dare utter an offensive word or accuse Magical Britain’s saviour of such evil deeds?”

He bit the inside lower lip to suppress a smirk when Augustus blinked. 

“He kept the texts in the Forbidden Section. After all, Hogwarts is the safest place in Magical Britain. Unfortunately, he wasn’t the only one who knew Herpo’s secret. Potion Master Horace Slughorn knew as well. Voldemort managed to extract the information from his tightly sealed lips. I suspect he used Veritaserum or Felix Felicis. After all, he was an accomplished potion brewer.”

After a moment Augustus shook his head. “Now that you put the pieces of the puzzle together, I can understand why no one could find the texts after Voldemort emerged. Dumbledore recognized his mistake and hid all the traces leading to him.”

“Because, unknowingly, he helped create the monster,” Orion said slowly, anger edging the steel of his voice. “And that’s not everything.”

With steady hands, he retrieved the Locket of Salazar Slytherin and the Cup of Helga Hufflepuff from a drawer. 

Augustus stiffened. He did not doubt that the Master Unspeakable was a Sentient. It would explain why he was unnaturally good at his job.

“These are…May I?” Augustus’ façade almost crumbled.

Orion motioned for him to proceed.

Slowly, he rose to his feet and flicked his wand. Wholly immersed in the new enigma, he scanned the items, muttering words in the Forgotten Language under his breath.

When he was done, an appalled sigh escaped him. “This is marvellous. Extremely dark and forbidden, but marvellous nevertheless. If anything, Voldemort knew what he was doing. I cannot insult this intricate work by denying that.”

Orion nodded begrudgingly. “Tom Marvolo Riddle was the smartest wizard of his age. He’s probably one the brightest wizards ever born. He was regrettably an unbalanced man with murderous tendencies. It didn’t help that he was a Gaunt. Madness ran deep in their line.”

Augustus sat back, his eyes still glued to the Founders’ Heirlooms as if they interested him more than anything else in the world. “But this is not why you asked for the Unbreakable vow. As a Master Unspeakable, you know that I would never share such disturbing knowledge. There’s more.”

Part of Orion wondered if his assessment of the man looking at him with twinkling eyes was right. He was not disappointed.

Augustus had exceeded his expectations. 

He kept his expression well-guarded as he said calmly. “What do you know about human Horcruxes?”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Ailith stood poised in her bedroom assessing the stranger looking back at her from the mirror. 

The reflection wasn’t of course that of a stranger. She recognized the heart-shaped face, the emerald-green eyes and the ebony hair.

“You look gorgeous,” Hermione squeezed her arm and grinned. She was looking very pretty in her periwinkle dress.

“Do you think it’s too…” She bit her lower lip as she asked warily.

“Don’t you dare ruin our hard work!” Ginny warned, thoroughly absorbed in the task of arranging the last strands of her hair so it framed her face in a most complimentary way.

She ran a trembling finger over the silky material of her red dress, feeling its softness against her skin. It was lovely and undoubtedly expensive. But it was Orion’s gift. He expected her to wear it for her birthday party and she couldn’t refuse him.

The cut of the dress moulded flatteringly to her slim body; the material and colour complimenting her complexion and bringing out her hair and eyes.

It was a dress that could not go unnoticed.

Admittedly it was not a bright shade of red, a colour she rarely wore. More like deep ruby.

‘This is the colour of House Potter’s banners,’ were Orion’s words. ‘You should feel proud wearing them.’

“Orion has a good taste,” Luna chimed happily.

Hermione shook her head slowly, amusement tugging at the corners of her lips before she mouthed. “She’s right.”

A snort emerged from her throat when she imagined what Petunia’s face would look like if she was to see her now.

Luna cradled her cheek in her hand, regarding her with a steady tenderness that warmed her to the marrow. “You are beautiful, Ailith. You are my first friend and you deserve the best. The Nargles told me that Orion will take care of you.”

She smiled then self-consciously looked away. 

Orion hinted at how much this party meant to him. It wasn’t held solely to celebrate her birthday—though he insisted that it was the main reason.

This party would be the first held in Grimmauld Place in decades. It would mark the return of The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black. No one would call his House extinct or dead ever again.

Feeling acutely self-conscious, Ailith cleared her throat and ventured down the stairs followed by her friends.

Ron and Neville were waiting for them. She approached them with a wide smile.

Neville was looking sharp in formal verdant-green robes with House Longbottom crest over his left breast pocket.

Ron’s cheeks flamed when she studied his royal blue robes.

“Er…They are a gift from Fred and George,” he coughed then bent and kissed her on the cheek. “You look different.”

“Don’t you mean beautiful?” Ginny asked with a touch of sarcasm.

“That too,” Ron said sheepishly.

“Thank you for the invitation,” Neville grinned at her. “Grandma will be here as well.” He glanced at the crowd filling the ballroom. 

Ailith looked around with a wide smile. Gone was the dilapidated building.

As soon as the rightful Lord Black was back, the house magic reacted to Orion’s presence.

In a way, the Black stronghold was healed from the negligence it suffered for decades.

The walls were now lined with richly carved oak panelling and a white plasterwork ceiling adorned with celestial charts of the night sky depicting the stars the Blacks had been named after for generations.

Gone were the decapitated house elves’ heads. In their place was an abundance of rich tapestries and French vases filled with bursts of freshly cut black dahlias and numerous blooms of fragrant wisteria.

As she surveyed the guests, her gaze was drawn again by Orion.

He was taller than the rest, his height exceeding everyone else. She admired his broad shoulders and his confident, masculine way of walking. It was as if he knew he owned the place and everyone’s attention. Like the other wizards, he was dressed in lavish robes with House Black’s crest and a suit that was well-tailored but scrupulously simple. 

He stopped to chat easily with a tall, dark-eyed guest, his hard profile partially averted.

Despite the distance that separated them, Ailith sensed his power. It was in his movements, the innate authority of his stance, the confident tilt of his head. 

Orion Arcturus Black wasn’t a man that would bow to anyone. He was born to rule.

She could hardly remember that this was the same man tricked by Walburga and reduced to a shallow shell of himself. He had so much to offer, so much to take from this world. His contained vitality made every wizard in the room pallid in comparison.

Voices around her drifted into silence as she continued to look at him.

“You’re staring,” Ginny teased.

“He’s her mate. She could stare as much as she wants,” Luna provided absently.

She felt her colour rising the moment Orion turned his head and looked right at her. It was as if he knew where she was all along. Which wouldn’t be impossible with the Grim’s acute senses. He said something to his guest and took slow, sure strides towards her.

"You look exquisite,'' he smiled and her heart beat wildly.

Utter silence descended on the room when he pressed a lingering kiss to her knuckles before he ushered her toward the centre of the dancing floor.

She tensed and whispered. “I don’t know how to dance. I have a bad balance.”

Laughter danced in his eyes. “Ailith,” he said, “I know you are the youngest Seeker in a century. Of course, you have a good balance. You are a terrific duelist, too.”

She slitted a glance up at him, trying to ignore the numerous eyes gazing at her. “I’m serious. It was horrible during the Yule Ball. I—‘’ She halted immediately when he pulled her against him.

He was blessedly solid and …real holding her when all that she wanted was to flee. There was something reassuring about his presence, the sense of a man who would do anything for her.

“Maybe you didn’t have the right partner.” His eyes were lit with sparks of humour and playfulness. “I can teach you.”

“Now?” she gaped at him.

“Now,” he nodded.

He seemed in a good mood so she didn’t want to ruin it. She sighed and stared at his chest. The last thing she wanted was to make a fool of herself in front of Magical Britain’s elite.

A waltz started playing and he smirked. “Follow my lead and forget about them. They don't matter. We are all that matters at this moment.”

At her hesitation, he added. “Trust me.”

How could she refuse such a request?

She let him arrange her in a closed hold position, with her right hand clasped in his left.

As they faced each other, she couldn’t help remembering the moments of being lost in the darkness of her nightmares, when the Grim’s paws closed around her and made her feel safe, wanted, loved….

As he guided her into the pattern of the dance, she stopped thinking and let him lead her focused only on his face. He was an impeccable dancer, leading her through turns, glides and different steps. It felt as if she was floating midair.

She closed her eyes and enjoyed the moment until she felt his free hand came up to caress her cheek. “I told you it’s not that hard,” he said softly.

The knots of fear and self-doubt melted into fluid warmth.

He reached out to lift her chin with his finger while sparks danced in his silver eyes like boldly emerging stars. His grin made her lightheaded. “You should smile more. I like your smile.”

Ailith looked at him and her grin widened. “And I like your smile, too.”

He loosened his arms and retrieved a small box from his pocket. “I don't want to wait for later.” He hesitated for a moment before he added. “This is your birthday gift.”

Ailith looked down at the box with furrowed brows. She didn’t want to open Orion’s gift where everyone could see it. It felt too precious for that.

“What is it?” she asked slowly.

He lifted her palm and kissed it. “Memories. I retrieved some of the memories Sirius gave me when we…” He cleared his throat. “You will find many of your parents’ memories in this box. You can use the Pensieve in my office.”

With shaking hands, Ailith closed her fingers around the tiny box. She knew she would find several bottles filled with Orion’s priceless gift inside.

Bottles filled with the only thing she had wanted all her life.

Something of her parents.

The most terrifying, beautiful, stunning feeling she’d ever known came crashing over her in a huge wave, and she embraced it fully. At that moment, she realized that it would destroy her to lose Orion. She could no longer exist without him. She was becoming someone new, with him—thanks to him.  They were becoming something together—and nothing was going to tear them apart.

She was his.

And he was solely and irrevocably and blessedly hers.

Chapter Text

As soon as she was asleep, Orion shifted back to his human form. With his hand rubbing Ailith’s back, he brought his lips to her forehead and smoothed out the furrow of her frown. She sighed and hid her face in the crook of his neck.

As he remembered what she told the Grim an hour ago before she succumbed to a night of restless sleep, his eyes raged into a darker shade of grey—almost black.

Her hands trembling as she caressed his fur, her lungs bereft of breath, he listened attentively as she recounted the horrors she went through when she was in the Dursleys’ custody.

The Grim seethed with rage but remained put as she threw her frail arms around his thick neck and hid her teary face in his fur.

They remained like that for long moments. Ailith trying to keep the nightmares away and the Grim battling the ravenous need to sink his fangs into his next prey’s flesh.

Slowly as not to startle her, he removed her limp body and made sure she was comfortable before he left her room soundlessly.

As soon as he stepped into his office, he flicked his wand sending the documents on his office flying all over the place.

Kreacher, who was standing opposite him, waiting if he needed something froze at his sudden and rare burst of motion. Something his faithful elf was definitely not used to.

“Master Orion…” He whispered carefully. “Is Master Orion fine?”

He was the furthest thing from fine but he nodded absentmindedly, just so Kreacher would think this irrational display of emotion was an abomination that wouldn’t occur again.

No one needed to worry that they had to deal with his bursts of anger or whatever unpredictable things he might surprise even himself with in the future.

‘You know what we have to do,’ the Grim hissed. 'Do not keep me waiting.'

He paused and narrowed his black eyes on the window, looking at the sky. The sun had started rising as a canopy of gold, bright amid the darkness bidding the stars to take their nightly rest.

As the last vestiges of darkness surrendered fully, every colour changed from charcoal to vibrancy.

Unfortunately, Orion found no joy in witnessing another day take its first breath.

Because that meant Mr Vernon Dursley and Mrs Petunia Evans Dursley were still breathing as well.

He wondered why he didn’t find much of Ailith’s childhood in Sirius’ memories.

Did she hide the abuse from him?

Did no one notice that the relationship she had with her guardians was far from perfect?

And what about Dumbledore?

He could hardly be judged for wanting to tear the old man limb from limb. Mercilessly. Savagely. Thoroughly. Until nothing, not even his memory, remained.

He took a deep breath and exhaled. Everything had happened so quickly since he crossed the Veil that only now was he realizing it was so much more complicated than he had ever thought. 

He hadn’t considered becoming so protective of Ailith so fast. He hadn’t considered spending mornings with her in the Duelling Room. He hadn't foreseen holding hands, sharing meals and beds and long talks.

Most importantly, he hadn’t dreamed that seeing her shy, innocent smiles would become the highlight of his days.

Everything was new; so vivid and real and it seemed he hadn’t prepared himself properly when he gave Death his vow to look after the last Peverell.

At times, he felt as if he was standing at the edge of quicksand and only just realized he had promised to jump right in.

He felt like a green lad who had never courted girls or fathered two sons.

And even though he was far from a blushing innocent, his past life left little to be desired.

Nevertheless, Orion knew better than to approach an enemy without scrupulous attention. 

Like Fudge and Madam Umbridge, Dumbledore’s time would come eventually and Ailith would have the satisfying revenge she so deserved.

Alas, he had to make a trip to 4 Privet Drive, Little Whining first.

It was long past due for this confrontation to happen.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

There were no cracks in Orion’s mask as he studied the overly uninspiring neighbourhood where Ailith grew up.

All the houses looked the same. All the fronts were painted a blinding shade of white, bland and utterly boring.

He didn’t need to look further to locate the house he had in mind. Familiar magic brushed against his senses. He recognized Ailith’s essence in the Blood Wards.

His eyes firmly on the door, he advanced thinking how ironic was it for Dumbledore to declare all branches of Dark Magic evil and forbidden when he’d been using Ailith’s blood and Lady Lily Potter’s sacrifice for fifteen long years.

The man thought he was above the law; untouchable and unlikely to commit a mistake.

The Blood Wards were not the problem. It was Dumbledore’s hypocrisy that made him itch to make a beeline for Hogwarts and confront him.

Orion closed his eyes letting his magic probe and test. The Wards were feeble and forced. They were on the brink of crumbling.

How have they held for all these years? He had no wish to know. But it wasn’t surprising seeing that Ailith had never truly considered this…building her home.

She was homeless for fifteen years but now she had him…and 12, Grimmauld place.

The moment the bell tinkled, heavy steps rushed to open the door. Orion let his arms drop by his sides adopting a casual posture he didn’t feel in the slightest.

A grossly obese man with a ridiculous moustache opened the door. His beady eyes studied his attire, widening a bit when they landed on the crest of House Black stitched over his left breast pocket in silver thread. Post haste, they went to his left ringer and a pleased smile tilted his lips up.

Orion wasn’t ignorant of what went on in Muggle England. Family crests, coats of arms and lordship rings were traditionally used by Muggle nobility. It ensured that everyone recognized their highbirth and achievements.

“How can I help you, sir?” Mr Dursley asked politely, opening the door wider.

Orion’s eyes darkened but his demeanor didn’t change as he answered pleasantly. “Are you Mr Vernon Durlsey?”

When the other man nodded eagerly, he smiled. “I want to discuss a matter of utmost importance with you. May I come in?”

He was probably the last person the Dursleys should let into their house, but it didn’t matter. They sealed their fate the moment they looked at Ailith with blatant disdain.

“Of course, sir. Please follow me,” he ushered him inside. “Petunia! Dudley, come and greet our honoured guest.”

“Who’s he?” Dudley Dursley blurted out pointing rudely at him. “He’s never been to our home.”

“Dudley!’’ Petunia chided gently.

“I’m afraid Mr Dudley is right. I apologize for not introducing myself first. It was very remiss of me.” Orion waved his hand and the three Durlseys paled when they heard the click of the locks.

He shifted in his seat slightly, put his hands over his knee and laced his fingers together watching in great amusement as they recoiled. “I am Lord Orion Arcturus Black.”

“B-Black?” Petunia stiffened and stared at him in disbelief.

“I believe you’ve met my son previously, Mrs Dursley. Let me refresh your memory nevertheless. He was Lord James Potter’s best friend: Sirius Orion Black.” His voice was flat and devoid of emotion as she struggled to assimilate what he’d just divulged.

“James Potter and Sirius Black?” Vernon’s gaze volleyed between them. “Isn’t he the caitiff who was with Lily when she brought the invitation to her wedding? I remember—‘’

Petunia shook her head vigorously but it was too late.

Vernon gasped; his face turning a disturbing shade of purple when fingers made of black smoke grabbed him by the throat and dug into his skin. His eyes bulged and he struggled to take his next breath. It was futile, though.

The Black Magic enraged and thirsty for blood filled the air and even the cowardly Muggles started shivering instinctively recognizing the danger surrounding them.

Lazily, Orion stood and blithely adjusted his faultless collar. “You don’t use bad language and utter profanities when my son’s name is in the same sentence. Ever. Never in my presence.”

“Please,” Petunia whimpered taking a step forward then thinking better of it and trying futilely to shield her child instead. “What have we ever done to you?”

The hint of the smile that curved his lips was all vitriol. “You hurt what’s mine. You abused an innocent child recklessly for years uncaring for her wellbeing. How could you do that to your sister’s daughter? She was but a child, too young and helpless to retaliate.”

“It’s her fault,” Petunia spat venomously, temporarily forgetting all about her struggling husband. “She is but a freak, an anomaly like her mother and loser of a father. We didn’t ask for this, didn’t ask to become her guardians!”

As disagreeable as her tone was, Orion couldn’t help but partially agree.

These people were never fit to raise the Heiress of House Potter; Wizarding Britain’s Saviour, the last Potter and the future of Houses Peverell and Black.

Most Pureblood families were related. A great score of Pureblood Households would’ve jumped at the chance of raising Lady Ailith Potter.

Dumbledore, ever so selfish and irrational believed he knew better.

Well, he knew nothing.

“I do respect your observation and the fact that you had no choice to begin with. However, you had your choice. You could have chosen to be decent people and treat her amiably and fairly. To my knowledge, it’s in every woman’s instincts to protect children and be…motherly. The girl you tortured is your flesh and blood. She’s all that remained of your sister’s memory. Have you ever considered that?”

Orion didn’t give her time to reply. He waved his hand and the fingers cutting Vernon Dursley’s air supply disappeared.

“Dad? Are you alright?” Dudley asked. When Orion’s gaze went to him, he put his hands over his mouth and tried to hide the bulk of his enormous body behind his mother's back.

“We-You can’t do this to us! We have our rights! Just because you have freaky powers doesn’t mean you can use them to torture innocents,” Vernon stuttered pitifully.

“I see no innocents here,” Orion wrapped his fingers one by one around his wand, prolonging his prey’s torture. “I see an obnoxious, ill-mannered child and two lowlives who don’t deserve to take another breath.”

“Please, we-we want nothing to do with her!” Petunia said in a rush. “You can take her whenever you find her. I know from the day we took her in she’ll bring nothing but trouble.” Suddenly, her eyes flared with realization. “Or-you said you were S-Sirius’ father? How could you be so young…” She shook her head and then added in a whisper. “Did she send you to kill us?”

Orion tilted his head to the side and she gulped. “Ailith would never do something so despicable. She is too innocent, too good for the likes of you. I, however, have no qualms about treating you the same way you treated her. As a matter of fact, I know I will find immense pleasure in doing so.”

He recognized the moment Vernon understood that there was no way out of his predicament. He lifted his hands in surrender but it was pointless.

Swiftly, Orion twirled his wand throwing a Petrifaction Charm at Dudley. He dropped to the ground like a boulder. His jaw was wide open, his mouth agape, his eyes glazed but still blinking.

“Dudley!” Petunia shrieked, her arms swinging wildly as she rushed to her son’s rescue. 

Orion twirled his wand again and moved both adults in his direction. Their legs kicked desperately as they floated midair, their gasps turning into anguished moans when invisible ropes kept them in place, hanging them from the ceiling.

He didn’t need a mirror to know that black had bled into the whites of his eyes. The Grim was in full control now. Petunia’s screams became more urgent not that it would save her.

Mercilessly, he delved into her mind, savagely shredding the memories he had no business checking like they were nothing.

When he found what he was after, he growled, his thoughts filled with one thing only—to make them pay tenfold.

Whether or not they knew it, they shouldn’t have thrown her into the cupboard when she was a mere toddler, shouldn’t have starved her time and again, shouldn’t have ordered her to clean, to cook, to tend to the gardens.

And that wasn’t even the half of it.

These Muggles….they were the most repulsive beings he had the misfortune of crossing paths with.

They were beyond redemption, so far they were gone.

A twisted desire to sink his fangs into their necks and let their fetid blood colour the pristine tiles red burned inside his chest.

‘Mine,’ the Grim raged. ‘My prey.’

Thankfully, he had the ability to control the sheer amount of bloodlust the Grim exhibited.

“They don’t deserve to die yet,” he explained. “Death is mercy. We cannot offer them a getaway. They deserve to suffer, to pay for every tear Ailith shed.”

The Grim closed his jaws tightly but the agitation still lurked in his chest. His anger was charged, deep, completely devout of the control he was too good at maintaining.

He had never thirsted for a prey’s blood like he did at that moment.

His fingers curled around his wand loosely as he addressed them one last time. “I will not sully my hands with your blood. Death is too good for you.”

They ceased their futile struggling, for an instant comforted by the false sense of security his words hinted at. They were sorely mistaken.

Orion took a seat, relaxed then gazed at them, his eyes burning holes in their skulls. “However, there are fates worse than death. There are more pleasant ways to make you pay.”

Slowly, all veneer of civilization peeled off him like the skin on an orange. The glossy layer coating the façade of the hunter underneath crumbled and his twisted grin was all teeth and promises of severe pain.

“You shall know no sleep, taste no food and find no peace. Nightmares shall haunt your nights and darken your days. You shall lose all that you hold dear; your precious child for instance. Your life ends now. All that remains will be the lifeless corpses of two sinners."

“No! Wait please!” Vernon and Petunia shouted.

Orion aimed his wand at them and said clearly. ‘Terreri Somno.’

The spell was forbidden and extremely dark. Lord Castor Black the Second invented it decades ago to exact revenge on someone who had tried to slip Amortentia into his betrothed’s drink. 

It had been hardly ever used for the results were dire and life-altering.

It seemed it was time to make use of his ancestor's ingenuity.

Vernon and Petunia’s heads lolled limply and their lids dropped. Expressions of terror, helplessness, sorrow and anxiety washed over their pale faces before their bloodcurdling screams rang loud.

Orion ignored them. It would take a while for the two older Dursleys to wake up before they relieved the plight of Ailith over and over again.

His brows furrowed as he considered Dursley. The kid wasn’t innocent but he wasn’t beyond redemption yet.

All he needed was a second chance. In a finer manner, Orion dug into his mind and erased all memories of his past.

He would remember nothing. Not his vile parents, not his cousin or any of the events he had witnessed.

His life would start now. With luck, with better guardians who would teach him kindness and integrity.

With a simple wave, he lifted Dudley and clutched his arm before apparating away.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

A bitter smile curved Draco’s lips. “I used to think that arrogance would make people understand how great I was. But I’ve come to realize that it was more an obliviousness to the world outside my own. Father taught me that Malfoys were the best. I had to do better, to score better, to squash all adversity no matter what means I used. He thought nothing of manipulating people and discarding them, me included. I tried all I could to please him. I..’’ he should his head, his grey eyes swirling with pain. “I was so wrong. No wonder you used to hate me.”

Ailith was appalled by the confession. “If your father used to earn other people’s trust just to stab them in the back, I am most distressed to hear that he expected you to do the same. Fortunately, he’s no longer among the living. Draco, I didn’t know the truth then. Maybe I was a bit rude for not accepting your hand but the way you treated Ron…” she bit her lower lip.

“There’s no need to defend my past transgressions,” Draco sighed. “I have yet to accept my past deeds. I believe I have a lot of apologizing and grovelling to do.”

“Have you ever considered that now that you’re out of your father’s shadow, people will start seeing for what you truly are?” Ailith said softly. She genuinely wanted to soothe him. “I, for one, am enjoying your company and grateful for all the etiquette and history books you brought for me.”

Draco gave her a bland look. “Ailith, you’re Lord Black’s betrothed. Your social standing is second to none. I cannot let the future Lady Black embarrass herself in public. As your cousin, I have a reputation to keep.”

Ailith gasped and punched him on the shoulder. “You’re an incorrigible prat.”

And just like that, Draco’s expression lightened and he smirked. It was far from the haughty, superior smirk she was used to. But it was better; more sincere.

It was how Narcissa and Andromeda found them.

“Are you enjoying yourselves?” Narcissa smiled, clearly thrilled by the budding friendship between them.

It didn’t take long for Ailith to glimpse the real guy behind the sarcastic, sharp-tongued Malfoy most of Hogwarts disliked.

Draco was blinded by his loyalty to his father and his need to show him that he was a worthy son and Heir.

Now that Lucius was gone, he understood that the father he trusted all his life had been leading him astray.

“We are enjoying our last days of freedom before going back to school,” Ailith said darkly. 

Andromeda paused with a scone poised halfway to her lips. “I thought you loved Hogwarts.”

“I do or...I did,” Ailith shrugged. “It was the first place I declared home. However, after last summer’s events, things changed.”

“You mean Orion?” Narcissa’s eyes twinkled with mischief.

Ailith’s eyelashes fluttered as she remembered the mock duel she had with Orion this morning. Knowing that he could take whatever she threw his way, she used the spell she found in the Lord Castor Black the Second’s notes and spent a week perfecting. 

To her satisfaction, Orion reacted with a quick double-blink of surprise then stumbled back. A flush of ethereal colour made his eyes fever-bright, the irises spangled with glints of wondering amusement. “You win,” he told her, and his hand cradled her jaw, his thumb stroking a circle over her jaw.

She shuddered as his mouth came to her cheek, as light as a brush of silk. He was tentative, making no demands. Mesmerized and feeling emboldened, she turned her head so their lips grazed and asked silently for more with hesitant pressure. His fingers spread over the back of her head, cupping the curve of her jaw, and he broke the kiss after a fleeting peck. At the loss of his touch, she sank against him while pleasure pooled at the pit of her stomach like a hot flame.

Feeling the way she was trembling, he kept holding her, his palm resting on her back between her shoulder blades. His chest moved with the ragged rhythm of his breathing, but he sounded calm and collected as he said. “You are mine and I am yours, never doubt that, my dearest.”

Pink ran across her cheeks as she relived the memory and she cleared her throat. “Yes and no. I will miss Grimmauld Place and the time I spent here. For the first time ever, I had a real home and I was free to do as I pleased and I…” She looked at Draco, Narcissa and Andromeda. “And I have people I can call family.”

“But we are not going anywhere,” Andromeda put the scone down. “Blacks take care of their own...and of their enemies.”

Ailith laughed. Leave it to Andy to remind her that the battle was far from over.

As soon as she left the safety of Grimmauld Place, people would start thinking they were still entitled to demand things from her.

Well, she owed them nothing.

Ailith Potter disappeared that night in the Department of Mysteries. What remained was Lady Ailith Potter, the last Potter and the future Lady Black.

Chapter Text

Slowly, Ailith turned toward the hall mirror and gazed at her reflection.

She tipped her head to the side studying the Acromantula silk black robes trimmed with red she received from Narcissa on her birthday. She smoothed the soft fabric, trying to steer her easiness away.

She had never worn something so elegant for the train trip to Hogwarts but things had drastically changed since last May.

Her trembling fingers touched the two Crests and Coats of Arms stitched on her left shoulder and her vision seemed to waver and blur. A proud Griffin embroidered with gold thread held a single blood ruby between its open jaws. Two silver swords crisscrossed its wide chest and honoured every Battle Mage and Duellist House Potter had birthed over the centuries. Just below, a majestic Grim rested its large head upon its forelegs. Its eyes were two sculpted diamonds that shone like two shooting stars. Even seemingly idle, the Grim looked lethal and ready to pounce at any given moment.

The stitches were made of Ancient Runes in Old Futhark for protection. Narcissa had spent two weeks adding them to the travelling robes.

Ailith’s fingers touched her face, feeling the corner of her eye where there was an unfamiliar wetness. She brushed the tear away, along with the bitter memories.

Last year, she had been eager to leave Number Four, Privet Drive and the Dursleys. She used to be thrilled and immensely grateful whenever Dumbledore whisked her away to the Weasleys but she had never tasted the true meaning of home until she stepped into Grimmauld Place.

The ancient mansion called to her in a manner she could not explain. It was as if she had been waiting all her life for something she could not name at the time.

Despite the conflicting emotions, she could not suppress her giddiness. Just two more years and then she would be free to do as she pleased. And even though she wasn’t sure which field of magic she wanted to pursue after graduation, she was secure in the knowledge that she was no longer bound by Magical Britain’s expectations.

Unfortunately for them, there would be no Auror Ailith Potter. She had enough blood and death to last for a lifetime.

Orion was waiting for her as she left her room. The rich velvet curtains had been opened wide curtsey of Kreacher and sunlight illuminated the sharp angles of his handsome face.

She tried to ignore the happy flutter in her chest and failed miserably as he smiled down at her and lifted her hand to his waiting lips.

“Are you ready for another year, my dear?” he asked as he raked a gentle hand down her long ponytail.

“I’m not delighted at the prospect of going back to Hogwarts,” she sighed.

“Would it be so terrible to endure? Don’t you consider Hogwarts your home?” He arched an amused brow at her.

“I used to think so,” Ailith tried to act nonchalant as he caressed her cheek gently. It took a considerable amount of willpower to prevent herself from inching forward, sinking into his warmth and never letting go. “But I think being back would involve an awful lot of acting and trying to remain unreachable. Dumbledore will certainly pressure me to divulge what we’ve been up to this summer….” She let her words trail off.

“And, unfortunately, he can be very persuasive and try to catch you at a weak moment. You have to be prepared at all times,” he warned.

Ailith shook her head. “I know. But I have my Occlumency shields now, not the lies Snape….” She bit her lower lip when Orion’s eyes darkened to pitch black.

“You have to be careful.” He looked into her eyes, his expression so intent it raised goose bumps on her arms. “It would be better if you stayed away from him, but knowing the grudge he holds, he won’t leave you alone.”

She touched her forehead to his chest, savouring his nearness. “I will never forgive him,” she whispered. “I don’t care if it was part of his cover. He hurt me, belittled me, bullied me and took great pleasure in that. I saw it in his eyes.”

Orion kissed her eyelids and traced a long fingertip along her arm, skimming her wand holster. “Then he deserves to be punished.”

She sucked in a breath and he lifted her face to his. His mouth curled into a sinister grin that made her heart pound crazily.

“But…” 

He shot her a knowing look and she frowned.

Why not?

She could recall so easily every time Snape mocked her. Intentionally.

Was it part of the plan?

She wasn’t sure anymore. Either way, why would she believe Dumbledore? He was a liar, a fraud, a manipulator who didn’t care.

“Nothing is wrong with seeking revenge.” Came Orion’s tantalizing voice. “We Blacks never forget or forgive.”

She reached with a shaking hand and smoothed the dark strand hanging low over one brow. “And I am a Black.”

“That, you are, Ailith,” he rasped. “And you have a home you can come back to whenever you feel it’s too much to handle, though, I doubt you’d give up so easily. For that…”

He retrieved something from his pocket and smirked.

Ailith looked down as he opened the small box with a click. In a red-velvet-lined jeweller’s case was a thin gold chain with a pendant. It was a lavish piece that reminded her of the Grim. It was as if the crafter had spent hours studying the Grim and replicated all the details faithfully. Its body was made of black diamonds that sparkled enticingly at her while the eyes were two silver-grey gems that reminded her of Orion’s eyes.

“This is a portkey,” Orion explained as he turned her around and clasped the chain around her neck. “It will bring you home whenever you want.”

She looked up at him utterly overwhelmed. Her fingers instinctively closed around the pendant. “Thank you.”

He leaned forward and kissed her lips lightly. “You don’t have to thank me. Ever. Nothing brings me joy more than to see you safe and happy.”

“I will miss you,” she whispered earnestly.

“And I will miss you every single day,” he said affectionately. “We can remedy that in Yule.”

Ailith clasped his arm and the next thing she knew, she was hugging him tightly. She felt protected, understood…loved. “You will call me every night, right? Do you have the mirror?”

With a slow smile, he retrieved it from his pocket. “And I shall never take it away.” With that, he slid his arm around her shoulders and led her downstairs.

It was time to leave.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Ailith turned around, uncaring for their audience, anger accumulating more fully inside her. Taking a deep breath and holding her chin high, she attempted to make her voice low and calm. “It’s time.”

“I will call you later,” Orion gave her a twitch of a smile and her chin dipped slightly.

Swathed in sunlight, he was a sight to behold. She was aware of the students stealing not-too-furtive glances at him over their shoulders; of the whispers and the stupid giggles.

The muscles in her stomach curled tight in response. She had always prided herself on staying oblivious to others’ scrutiny. However, the way other witches were looking at Orion…bothered her.

With a knowing faint smile, he took her hand in his and kissed her knuckles. “Your friends are waiting for you.” With that, he bowed and then strode away. The tilt of his head and carriage of his back and shoulders spoke of a refinement that was largely absent in the other wizards she had met.

His formal robes billowed around his legs as he made his way toward the Apparation Point completely uncaring about the eyes following him ravenously.

Ailith sighed and levitated her newly-purchased trunk.

“You don’t want to miss the train,” Draco who had materialized from thin air smirked. “It’s not like you can talk him into allowing you to skip school. Blacks value their education.”

Ailith rolled her eyes. “Thank you for the reminder, Lord Malfoy,” she threw sarcastically.

It was probably the first time she had exchanged a civilized conversation with Draco in the train station.  Draco bowed dramatically and offered her his hand. Ailith looked at it thoughtfully before she lifted her eyes. Her gaze clashed with Draco and both smiled wistfully.

For a moment, she wondered how things would have turned out had she taken Draco’s hand in their first year.  However, they were past regrets and repentance. All that mattered was the future of their family.

She took his hand and held it firmly. “Thank you, Draco.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Do you require any more assistance, Lord Black?” 

Orion wrestled with the need to roll his eyes. “No, thank you, Miss Burke.” He moved sideways to give her access to the door. She hesitated then whirled around and left.

“Is it a new rule that every female in my department is attempting to force herself into conversation with you?” Augustus Rookwood cocked a brow up.

“Perhaps she wasn’t flirting and her offer had been precisely what she claimed,” Orion took the chair Augustus gestured to.

The latter sent him a sideways glance and Orion’s mouth curved with amusement. It wasn’t as if it mattered for he was already taken. 

“I am certain Lady Potter doesn’t share your faith but then, it’s not like you made things official between you for all to keep their distance.”

At that, Orion stiffened. “Ailith is sixteen. She’s too young.”

“She’s likely to think otherwise.” Augustus sat forward as he put in abruptly. “Witches of her status start getting Betrothal Contracts the morning of their fifteenth birthday.”

“I hope this is not what you wanted to discuss when you sent a message, Augustus,” Orion said frowning.

“It depends,” Augustus said with a faint grin.

And with that, Orion conjured an image of Ailith in pearly Bonding Robes. He’d spent a great deal of his youth striving to please his father and uphold House Black’s legacy, he had seldom thought about the future Lady Black.

Of course, Walburga had never been part of the equation. She was vile and insufferable and even though he had been born to wealth and privilege, he would’ve turned his back willingly on both and fled the wedding ceremony had he not loved his father so much.

The price he paid had been far more frightening than all his imaginings but he couldn’t regret the few blessings he had.

Sirius and Regulus; his sons.

But now that he was back, he knew without a grain of doubt that his future was with Ailith Potter.

Luckily for them both, Orion was a very patient man and he would never push her to do something she was not ready for even though it seemed she became quite fond of him—which he hoped would evolve into something stronger, deeper—she was but a sixteen year old witch.

Which brought him back to the reason behind this visit to the Department of Mysteries where everything had started.

“Did you find something?” he ignored Augustus’ knowing look.

The Head Unspeakable set aside the book he was skimming and made a steeple with his hands. “I did.” Orion frowned at that. “Considering what I’ve just heard, I’m not certain you will like what I am going to say.”

Orion wished with everything holy that whatever Augustus found wasn’t nearly as dreadful as it sounded. His heart pounded in his chest as he asked. “Please, continue.”

“When the shard latched on Ailith’s soul, she was very young and vulnerable at the time. Her core was immature and she had no Occlumency shields to lessen the damage. In a most curious way, the Horcrux found home in her soul and what they created is very similar to a Soul Bond.”

Even though his expression remained collected, he feared that the ice encasing his heart was in danger of cracking.

‘This is not possible,’ The Grim roared. ‘She is ours.’

He lifted his chin and gave the Head Unspeakable a look that should have instantly turned him to ashes. “I hope this is not all.”

“Fortunately, no,” Augustus said with a devil-may-care shrug. “If we want to retrieve the shard from her soul, we will need a bond strong enough to stabilize the damaged part otherwise, I’m afraid Ailith Potter won’t be the same anymore.”

“A Soul Bond,” Orion muttered in understanding.

“Exactly,” Augustus nodded appreciatively. “There hadn’t been a Soul Bond between a married couple for centuries. It demands a deep level of trust and understanding. Moreover, they will share everything from their magic to their life force. You need to completely and irrevocably believe in your partner to take this bold step.”

A leap of hope quivered in Orion’s chest.

Would it be foolish to trust a woman and accept handing her everything again whether she took care of his gift or threw it away? He would never know but…

A sudden feeling of peace swept over him. Truth to be told, Blacks were suspicious and cautious by nature. It went against every instinct he possessed to lay himself bare to someone. It explained why there had never been a Soul Bond in House Black.

However, what he had with Ailith and the circumstances that brought them together were utterly unique. He cherished the hopefulness he felt around her—the belief that maybe he could trust another person with his heart.

‘She will never betray us,’ The Grim assured him. ‘It is not in her nature to stab someone in the back.’

“I know this matter cannot be taken lightly but I urge you to give it thorough consideration,” Augustus said. “You still have time before the Horcrux starts acting up.”

“How much?” Orion asked sharply.

“Nothing is certain but according to what I found out about Horcruxes, they are connected. The Horcrux knows that his brethren are gone. It will eventually try to take over and possess her to bring its master back. If I were to make a guess, I’d say two years.”

Two years…

It wasn’t that bad even though he would’ve preferred to give Ailith more time to enjoy her freedom before sharing the burden of being the Head of House Black and the Dark Faction with him.

“It seems I have much thinking to do,” Orion sighed.

Augustus studied his face. “I understand. In the meanwhile, what do you plan to do?”

He stood up and smoothed his cloak. “Bring all the Dark families together, of course," he lifted a brow up. "If I am to tie Ailith's life to mine, I have to ensure her safety at all times."

Augustus tilted his head to the side. "Are you sure she needs your protection?"

Orion smirked. "No. But I will do it anyway. It's my duty as the Head of the Dark."

Chapter Text

Hermione seated herself tactfully in a nearby chair, eager to start asking questions.

Ailith bit her lower lip with an inner laugh and took her sweet time working on her Charms homework. The sooner the work was finished, the more time they’d have to spend together. Ron, being such a novice, kept stealing glances at them.

“Say it,” she put her quill down.

“Did Orion propose?” Hermione said in a rush. “Did he give you a ring? When are you going to bond? But you’re sixteen! Wasn’t he bothered that you are back at school and he’ll be alone? What is he planning now that Voldemort is no more?” With every question, Hermione inched forward.

Ron gaped. “’Mione, slow down. One question at a time.” A blush heated Hemoine’s cheeks when Ailith arched an amused brow.

“No, he did not propose,” she took a deep breath before she elaborated. “No matter how much he tries to hide it, I know that my age is bothering him. Physically, he might be twenty-one but his soul is much older than that.”

“I cannot believe that he’s Sirius' dad. I mean…he looks younger than Charlie,” Ron scrubbed a hand over his face. “Only you, Ailith. Only you.”

She peered at her best friend through narrowed eyes, indignation at last replacing amusement. “I’ve never asked for this. I’ve never wanted to become the Fates' favourite toy.”

Hermione launched herself at her and hugged her tight. “You are not a toy. You are the strongest person I know.”

Ron looked down and whispered. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to…”

Hermione lifted her head long enough to glare at him. “We know that you have the emotional range of a teaspoon. Just try to be more sensible,” she hissed. “Ailith had a rough summer.”

Ailith’s chest constricted, a pang of emotion lancing through her.

Her summer had started with a nightmare indeed, but she wouldn’t say it was horrible.

Returning to Hogwarts, however…

The moment she set her foot into the Great Hall, she had swept her gaze through it. Thanks to her training, she had developed the habit of taking everything in as soon as she left the safety of Grimmauld Place; her home, entrances, exits, weapons that could be used against her—weapons she could use, people who could present a threat later.

Experience had taught her that mistrust carried one further than trust. She should never have trusted Dumbledore. It had cost her Sirius. A good man’s life was wretched and stolen because he gave his trust freely to those who least deserved it.

“Part of me is grateful to the people I’ve been up against, no matter how bad time their animosity had given me, they led me to this moment. And I’m content.” She gave her friends the most fleeting of smiles. “People will not leave me alone anytime soon. I guess it’s my destiny.”

“So what are you going to do?” Hermione was the first to ask. “You cannot ignore Dumbledore’s summons for long. You are still a Hogwarts student and…”

“Why is he insisting on meeting her?” Ron cut in before Hermione could expand on her speech.

“He wants to know everything,” she remembered his expectant face when their gazes had clashed during dinner. “Orion is an unknown, someone who isn’t under his control.”

If he was expecting her to betray the man she loved and expose his secrets, he must have lost his mind.

Sighing, she straightened her robes and stood up. “I guess, it won’t do to keep the headmaster waiting.”

“We can…” Ron called out as she strode out of the Common Room.

“No need,” she looked over her shoulder. “I’ve faced worse."

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The moment the door shut, Ailith watched as excitement washed over Dumbledore’s features.

His twinkling eyes could no longer fool her. She used to find peace in the blue seas, but now that she was older and wiser, she recognized the Devil’s Triangle that lay under the seemingly calm shore and she had no intention of drowning in his deceptions. Never again.

“Good evening, my girl. Please, take a seat,” he offered with a jovial smile that didn’t fool her.

Raw shouts echoed in her throat and fought to leave her tightly sealed lips. She wanted to scream at him, to shake him and ask him why. Why had he betrayed her trust and destroyed everything she took for granted? Why hadn’t he saved Sirius before the Veil claimed him?

He was a vain, overindulged old man with incurable delusions of grandeur and she no longer possessed the time or the energy to humour him. She had a life outside of Hogwarts walls now.

“So, have you enjoyed the holidays?” he asked, pointing out at her. “You look happy.”

“Which must be a strange occurrence, I presume, considering where I’ve been living for the past fifteen years.” Violent, cold anger radiated from every word she uttered through clenched teeth. “You knew.”

Yes, the kitten’s fangs had popped out of her gums. Dumbledore should be wary of his docile pet now.

Dumbledore’s eyes widened with confusion. “Ailith, my girl, what came over you?”

She chuckled, very low in her throat, the sound anything but merry. “Hardly anything you’ve planned the day you throw me on the Dursleys’ doorstep. I’m no longer the girl you know, Professor Dumbledore. So let’s skip the unnecessary pleasantries and get straight to the point. Yes, I still blame you for what happened to Sirius. You could’ve helped him and asked for a trial. Knowing the connections you have, you could’ve proved him innocent and ended his suffering. You know that Sirius had been going crazy confined to Grimmauld Place. He traded a prison for another.”

His brow creased as if he hadn’t heard her right. “I didn’t have the means to prove his innocence. We couldn’t catch Peter Pettigrew and…”

“And you hadn’t tried hard. Heedless of his wellbeing, you availed yourself of his home and used his hospitality. You treated him as if he were a guest, and hid crucial information from him,” she ground her teeth as pain tore through her over Dumbledore’s betrayal. More than that, she resented everyone who had speculated about Sirius’ life and motives when they knew nothing about him. They hadn’t even tried to. 

“Did Orion Black tell you this?” Dumbledore said in his usual suspicious tone.

She stared at him pointedly then shook her head. “Why would he? Orion doesn’t need to tell me a thing. I told you I’m not the same girl you know. What happened in the Ministry opened my eyes.” Her voice was like unbending steel. “Why am I here?”

“I wanted to make sure that Orion is treating you well. I sent many messages but they went unanswered,” he cleared his throat.

Ailith thought she could handle everything. But this…this amount of hypocrisy …it was her undoing.

Slowly, she rose to her feet and glared at her ex-mentor. As she spoke, she felt scraped raw inside. “Where were you when all my nights were plagued by nightmares? When I was crying and starving and praying for someone, anyone to save me?”

He reached a frail hand and flinched when she ignored it. “You have no right to pretend that you care. Voldemort is gone, you no longer require my services. Why keep the charade? We should go our separate ways. Only two years to go and you won’t hear from me again.”

His lips parted and his eyes went inadvertently to her scar. She stiffened and her rage morphed into suspicion. She knew that Orion was keeping something from her and the look in Dumbledore’s gaze didn’t help erase her uneasiness.

“I’ve never wanted to cause you harm, Ailith,” he clamped his lips in a hopeless attempt to stop them from shaking, then breathed. “Will you ever trust me again?”

“Never.” Came her harsh answer.

“Then would you at least trust that I’ll always have your best interest at heart?” he tried again.

“Give me the truth.” Her face turned stone-cold. “I know you’re still hiding something.” She barely resisted the urge to draw her wand and point it at Dumbledore’s black heart.

When he looked at her with shattered eyes and whispered. “You are not ready for the whole truth. Not yet.” She whirled around and headed toward the door. “Then I’ll never forgive you. Don’t ask for a private meeting again. I won’t answer your summons. To me, you are merely the headmaster of the school I’m frequenting, nothing more and nothing less.”

“Ailith….”

She stopped when something hurtled towards her. With the ingrained Seeker reflexes, she caught it.

“I believe the ring belongs to you,” he said sadly but his victimized show did nothing to placate her. “Use it well.”

Ailith studied the eerie dark stone with furrowed brows. Coldness emanated from the smooth surface and hushed voices called to her. But how was that possible? The ring looked in a sorry state, as if someone had tried to smash it but failed miserably. The stone was mostly intact save for a little mark that marred its perfection. Power, so much power radiated from it.

She exhaled sharply when the Elder Wand started humming in the arm holster.

Dumbledore’s expression was vacillating between sympathy and pride when she looked over her shoulder at him.

“I hope that one day, you’ll find it in your heart to forgive this sinful old man.”

“I doubt that,” she lifted her chin and left the room and her past behind.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Ailith shook her head and struggled to understand what was Snape doing in the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom. Cobwebs were meant to be stripped away for a home to become clean.

“I thought they’d learned from their mistakes and wanted us to actually learn something but that won’t be possible with the bat teaching us…nothing,” Ron snorted.

Ailith nodded. Her self-control had been tested today more times than in her whole life. She had to deal with Dumbledore’s shameless behaviour only to find out that Severus Snape, their new Defence Against the Dark Arts hadn’t changed at all.

She mentally sneered. Why would he? A snake was still a snake regardless if it shed its skin and Snape was the most venomous snake she had the misfortune of meeting.

His grudge ran deep stemming from the way her father and Sirus had treated him in the past. However, he wasn’t blameless. 

Holding a child accountable for their father’s misdeeds wasn’t something praiseworthy.

His footsteps echoed inside the classroom as he explained in a bored voice. “A Nonverbal Spell is a spell performed without the caster speaking the incantation aloud. Naturally, it requires more concentration. As already established, casting is a difficult thing for some of you.” His spiteful eyes went to Neville. “I hope by the end of the year, some of you will master this technique. It can come in handy because, even though the war is over, you shouldn’t let your guard down.” He glanced at her for a fleeting moment. “Stand up, pick up a partner from another House and start practising. I want you to cast a Depulso on your target. Now.”

Groans and whispers filled the room, but everyone stood. She looked around and grinned when she noticed that Draco was looking for a duelling partner.

“It’s been a while since I kicked your arse in a duel,” she smirked.

“Mind your language, Lady Potter-Black. My mother will hear about this,” he replied eloquently.

The soft admonishment spurred her into action. She rolled her eyes and made the first move. Draco gasped when he was pushed back until his bottom hit the far wall drawing everyone’s attention to him. Gasps of awe and surprise filled the classroom.

Ailith’s stomach knotted but she ignored it. She’d known it would come, had prepared for it. She no longer felt the need to hide the extent of her talent. Her magic needed an outlet, it needed to manifest itself and be free of all restraints.

Her skin prickled as the Elder Wand buzzed with barely restrained power. Orion had taught her that she could wield her magic without fear. That she was way stronger than she ever imagined. That one day, she would become invincible.

“Potter,” Snape snarled. “You could’ve severely harmed Mr Malfoy. Did you have to show off? A little demonstration is more than enough.”

“I’m fine, Professor,” Draco hurried to her rescue. “Ailith would never hurt me intentionally. She added a cushioning charm so…”

But Snape was past listening. He stepped in front of her. A muscle ticked in his jaw, a testament to his anger.

Ailith’s lashes fused together, leaving only tiny slits. “I wasn’t showing off, Professor. I was doing as you asked.”

He stiffened and gritted out. “Are you calling me a liar?”

Ailith remembered the first day she’d come into contact with the Potion Master. Back then, she had been eager to learn more about potions. She thought that now that she was out of her guardians’ clutches, she was free to do as she pleased and concentrate on learning without fearing Petunia or Vernon’s retribution. 

Her first lesson had ruined all her hopes. She learned the hard way that Hogwarts was no different from her previous school.

“Yes,” she replied coldly. “You are a liar and a bully.”

Snape grew still among the horrified gasps. She aimed her wand at him and cast a wordless Depulso. His gaze was lost as her spell hit him true and his back crashed against the wall. Heedless of the several eyes following her warily, she cast a Muffiliato and kneeled next to him. “You are a liar because you’ve never been a good friend. You betrayed my mother’s trust. How do think she’d react if she were to know how you treated her daughter for years?” She grabbed his arm and helped him to his feet. “You are a bully because you enjoyed humiliating and belittling me for years. You used your position to mentally abuse me. Thanks to you, my nightmares got worse and Voldemort gained access to my mind. You must feel proud of yourself. Let this knowledge keep you company for the rest of your miserable life.”

Chapter Text

For a long moment, Ailith lost herself in Orion’s presence. A fluttering warmth rose deep in her chest and she could not help pressing herself against him, her soul seeking something only his nearness could offer.

“So, you missed me too.” She heard the thick emotion in his voice as he brushed her hair back from her face and then laid a very tender kiss on her cheek. She savoured that touch so much.

“Why didn’t you tell me that you’ll be here today?” she pouted.

“I wanted to surprise you,” he lifted her hand and pressed a lingering kiss to her knuckles. “Draco was a great help.”

Ailith felt her chest tighten and she went hot all over. She had to thank Draco for arranging this delightful surprise later.

It was a Hogsmeade weekend and the last thing she expected when she left Hogwarts this morning, was to find Orion waiting for her at the gates, his silver-grey eyes glinting with amusement. When he flashed her that startling smile, she almost tripped on her feet if not for Hermione’s helping hand. Of course, the knowing smirk didn’t help the state of her blazing cheeks at all. Nor did Ron’s snickers.

She equalled being with Orion to…happiness.

She remembered happiness from a long time ago. From the memories her Patronus brought. Happiness was her mother’s lullabies and promises to protect her no matter the price. It was he father’s pride when she zoomed on her toy-broom.

She was denied that feeling for years and yet, the giddy warmth that kept washing over her for no reason whatsoever since Orion came into her life made all that she went through somehow bearable.

“Are we going to stand here?” he teased, the smile still hovering on his lips. “Your schoolmates’ looks are quite intrusive. I see that Hogwarts rumour mill is still as active as ever.”

She followed Orion’s gaze and groaned. True to his words, many students, girls in particular, seemed overly interested in them.

The wind teased a lock of ebony hair and sent it straying over his temple. Unable to resist, she reached out and stroked the tendril back. Orion’s gaze gentled making her colour. 

“Let’s go. I believe you have someplace you want to take me to,” she cleared her throat and laced their fingers together.

“My lady’s wish is my command,” he smirked and led her toward the village.

Ailith grip’s tightened and his solemn silver-grey eyes became tinged with obsidian.

It seemed that both man and Grim had missed her. Good. Because she had missed them, as well.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

After he escorted Ailith back to Hogwarts, Orion didn’t waste any time getting to his next destination. A destination he had no idea he would head to when he left Grimmauld Place this morning.

At least he hadn’t lost control when she let bits of what she’d been up to since she went back to school.

He was certain that Ailith had enjoyed their date which was all that mattered. He had enjoyed watching the myriad of emotions playing over her face when they stepped into the Prestigious Pumpkin. The manager himself had rushed to greet them and escort them to the table he reserved a day prior to Hogsmeade’s Trip.

He let his gaze linger on her pulchritudinous face. He was so fortunate, he thought with a private smile, and he couldn’t wait for the day she’d become his. The touch of amusement faded quickly as he imagined the primitive satisfaction of claiming her, watching her grow ripe with his child, being there for her as she accomplished all her dreams. As she became the splendid woman she was always meant to be.

For just a moment, he let himself dwell on the idea until she looked at him questioningly. Hastily, he bludgeoned the impulses back where they belonged. 

‘They do not belong to the back of your mind,’ the Grim had growled. ‘They are our future.’

However, his good mood darkened when she started talking. The tremor in her voice wrenched his heart. He knew how much it pained her to relive Dumbledore’s treachery and Snape’s unfair treatment. His arms went instinctively around her. He collected the quivering bundle of her against his chest and held her firmly as she spilt what had been bothering her for weeks.

Unlike him, Ailith was inherently good. However, the events of the past year had pushed her to grow beyond her years. She could look so delicate and soft—breakable, even—that was until she took action. That was when people knew they had a feisty, take-no-nonsense type of witch on their hands, the kind it was almost impossible to win against because they were trained to never lose. Either they won or they died trying.

He prayed that Dumbledore and Snape had taken the hint but…the Grim demanded more. The beast could not remain placid. He hungered for revenge. 

They hurt what was his and Blacks were not known for their leniency. They did not forget or forgive.

Which explained why he was at Malfoy Manor of all places, unannounced. Leaning back in his seat at Narcissa’s approach, he watched with amusement as she swiftly masked her surprise. Nothing torched the flames of a member of House Black’s curiosity more violently than a secret they were denied.

Naturally, as her Lord, no wards could keep him away from members of his family. Draco had renowned his Vassalage Vow to House Black, so the Family Magic recognized the Malfoy Estate as Hers.

Narcissa curtsied gracefully and took the chair facing him. After a curtailed silence, he drawled. “Narcissa, I believe your husband had named Severus Snape Draco’s godfather.”

Narcissa’s eyes widened and she nodded warily. “He did. Severus is a family friend. He’s been looking after Draco for years.”

He frowned. “Then I do hate to tell you that starting today, you are no longer to consider him that. The man Lucius chose lacks something of utmost importance: kindness and forgiveness. He could not let go of the grudge he held against James Potter and….Sirius.” He glanced at the window where the last brilliant orange and blue vestiges of daylight started fading. The mention of his son’s name still hurt badly. He doubted he could ever go over the loss.

His mouth twisted in anger. “He is not fit to educate the next generation. A man who seeks pleasure from bullying a defenceless child is no better than a beast.”

“He’s been good to us,” Narcissa persisted. “But…’’ She paused, seeming to think better of what she’d been about to say. “That being said, I do understand. Family comes first. Always.” 

Orion responded with a derisive half-smile. “Maybe that’s what gave our family its reputation. But we cannot help it. Revenge is part of us. It runs in our blood. Our magic demands it, ravenously, vigorously. I could hardly rest since I came back. At times, I wonder if this circle would ever end.”

It was a subject they had never discussed. But for an uncanny reason, his magic felt most at ease with Narcissa. He trusted her to understand his motives and reasoning. From what he’d observed so far, she was the most Black among the remaining members of his family.

He still mourned what his helplessness had done to his family. He failed them once. The most unforgivable part was that in his torment, he had hurt his children and caused no end of misery for them. At the worst of it, when Sirius had seemed bent on destroying himself, he couldn’t help him. At least, the Potters took him under their wing and gave him what he was too powerless to offer: love and guidance.

After Death gave him a second chance, he emerged an entirely different man, scarred in ways that even he couldn’t fully catalog. Ruthless. Remorseless. All that mattered were the people the Family Magic recognized as Hers. His people; his family.

He was trying to make amends for the way he had failed his family. And above all, he was determined to avoid seeing any of the people he placed under his protection hurt. Now that he was aware of the fatal depth of doom his helplessness could bring, he would never let his guard down or permit a stranger to harm his people.

‘They deserve what is coming their way,’ the Grim shrugged. ‘They should never have underestimated our wrath.’

“They don’t even know you exist,” Orion retorted.

‘Which is a blessing beyond measure,’ the Grim smirked, unruffled. ‘Imagine the nightmares they would have were they to meet me. In person. In all my glory.’

Orion didn’t deem the last sentence worthy of a reply. He gave Narcissa time to make up her mind. Despite the power he had over her, he would never force her to do something that went against her conscience.

“Over the years, Draco had reported some worrisome stories,” she cleared her throat. “At that time, he had an ongoing rivalry with Ailith, so you must understand,’’ she added ruefully. “Though, I believe, since the family reunion, he started to see her as the sister he never had. Knowing her, I am sure it goes both ways. They bonded.”

Orion stared at her. “The Family Magic recognizes Ailith as the next Lady Black. Curiously, her magic has answered in kind. She recognizes you as her family. I’ve never met someone so capable of love and forgiveness.”

“Then you are a very lucky man, my Lord,” Narcissa said demurely, though there was no mistaking the glint in her eyes. “Ailith is an outstanding young woman. I know she’ll blossom into a magnificent woman.”

Her amusement lingered as she contemplated his face. “Severus, regrettably, has allowed his wounds to fester. His old grudges and self-loathing took away the promising man I met at Hogwarts years ago, the man I agreed to name my son’s godfather. He lost his soul the night Lady Potter died.”

“He had his chance and stubbornly, he refused to take it,” he said curtly. “What he did to Ailith and to the other children is unpardonable. I have no personal interest in him but I intend to find out why he acted in such a despicable way before I make my judgment. For that, I require your assistance.”

Narcissa gave him a knowing glance. “But he isn’t the only one who slighted Ailith. If anything, his crimes are way lighter than his mentor.”

A subtle challenge lit her eyes when he nodded in acknowledgement. “I am still developing the best way to ruin Dumbledore beyond repair. The other members of the Dark Faction have so kindly suggested some rather creative ways. I will let you know when I come to a definitive decision.”

“And I shall wait,” Narcissa’s eyes hardened. “He could’ve saved Sirius but he refused to offer his help. I hold him accountable. Moreover, he whisked the Lady of a Noble and Most Ancient and the last of her bloodline away, denying her her legacy. It hurts to remember how little Ailith knew about our world when I started her proper education.”

They stood together. Orion let his hand brush Narcissa’s cheek, his magic reminding her once again that she was no longer alone. She had a family that valued her and would spill blood to avenge her.

“Then we have an understanding. I will require your assistance soon.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

It took Orion three weeks to get his spy to give him a detailed account of Snape’s daily activities. Unsurprisingly, he was a man of habit and seldom did something unpredictable. Like most of Hogwarts’ professors, he spent the weekends at home in Spinner’s End. It was a shabby suburb of Cokeworth. The area was full of dilapidated houses and broken-down street lamps. It fitted the man’s character to perfection.

But that was not what mattered at the moment. The vicious wards recognized Narcissa and allowed her to drag him along into the property.

The moment he opened the door, Master Snape regarded them with thinly veiled wariness. 

“Severus,” Narcissa said evenly, waiting for him to invite them inside.

“Narcissa,” he swallowed. “Lord Black.”

Orion tore his gaze from his and regarded the crumbling ruins around. “You know why I am here.”

With blatant reluctance, he ushered them to follow him to the modest room that looked as if it had been years since it welcomed a guest. 

In a way, everything about Snape’s home reminded him of Grimmauld Place when he stepped into it after his resurrection. It was where the similarities ended. Whereas he chose to leave the past where it belonged and start anew, Severus Snape held on to the bitter memories with all his might.

With a wave of his hand, Orion shifted the dead logs. A fire erupted, sending heat inside the room. The hot air produced sweat on Snape’s pale skin, sticking the collar of his robes to his skin and dampening it. Thanks to the Grim’s cold magic, Orion wasn’t bothered at all by the heat.

He leaned on the fireplace, his gaze focused on the orange-blue flames. “Why?”

Snape gave Narcissa a furtive glance before he answered. “I’m reluctant to discuss Potter for several reasons,” he said, his dark eyes guarded. “Among them is the fact that I’ve never been particularly kind to her, nor did I protect her when I should have. And I regret it.”

Hearing him admit to his faults did not assuage the fire burning at the pit of his stomach. He did his research and knew every bit of the man’s unsavoury past. Why would the victim of child abuse inflict the same on a war orphan?

“We all have regrets,” Orion replied coolly instead. “However, I cling to my belief that one doesn’t have to start regretting something unless one stops doing it. Of course, it’s so much easier to form opinions without being troubled by facts.”

Snape sobered quickly as he stared into the flame of a small candle lamp that had been set on the table. “Before I tell you anything, I want to ask what is the nature of your interest in Potter?”

“You are not the one asking questions, Master Snape. You lost that privilege years ago,” Orion’s claws started elongating which was never a good sign. “You might mistake me for my son. I am afraid we are not the same despite the physical resemblance. I can never be as forgiving as Sirius. I know he had erred in the past and brought you pain with his actions, but you weren’t an innocent either. You went as far as inventing Dark spells to test on my son and his friends. You found satisfaction in his predicament. Went even further and tried to get the Dementors to suck his soul.”

When Snape’s eyes widened, he grinned ferally. “Yes. I know everything, Master Snape. I know your darkest secrets; the ones you are trying so hard to keep in the deepest recesses of your mind. I know of your regret.”

Frustration boiled off him—but agony lurked in his gaze and desolation edged the steel of his voice. “You have no right to judge me. I admit to my faults but you are not guiltless. I can smell the blood on your hands.”

“And I shall take that as the highest of compliments because, unlike you, I can kill for the people I love. There is no length I won’t go to in order to protect my family. What have you done after your dispute with Lily Evans? You kissed the feet of a murderer. You sought glory and fame and forgot everything the younger you believed in. And then, you led the same monster to your friend’s doorstep. You trusted the wrong people. You forget that Ailith is Lily’s daughter as well. You didn’t give her a chance which is why you never understood that she’s her mother’s daughter in more ways than you can ever guess.”

“I don’t think you have what it takes to make a good mentor,” he gave him a wry glance. “And Lily Evans Potter believes so as well.” The last words were said in Snape’s head.

The Potion Master’s lips parted in a silent cry when his mind was assaulted by images from Orion’s memories.

“Severus….how could you….” A distraught Lily Evans Potter whispered, caught in a perilous margin between anger and tears. The anger won out. “I considered you my closest friend. I never blamed you for leaving me.” She buried her tear-stained face in her hands. “She is my daughter. I died for her and so did James.” Her hard voice filtered through the cold screen of her ghostly fingers. “When everyone we trusted was gone or incapacitated, why didn’t you help her? Did you know that I named you in my will as a potential guardian? How could you be so cruel to a child? You are not the boy I befriended and trusted with all my fears and dreams.”

A shocked silence greeted Lily’s words as she evaporated from Snape’s mind. Just as the bitter man allowed himself to teeter on the brink of hope, the entire situation went tumbling out of her control. Lily didn’t ask to talk to him because she missed him. She wanted him to hear what she thought of his actions.

Master Snape extended his arm as if to reach for a ghost that was no longer among the living. 

“Severus….” Narcissa’s said dully even though Orion heard the pity in her voice.

But it was too late. He sank to his knees and hugged them like a child seeking comfort he would never get.

“I-I betrayed her memory. I-I ruined every chance I had…” he broke off with a strangled sound as shivers seized his body.

Blacks were merciless when they discovered their prey’s weakness. They set high standards in every aspect of the revenge they delivered without displaying a hint of compassion.

But as he stared at the broken shell of a man who could’ve been great without blinking, Orion wondered if there was a greater punishment than what he was enduring at the moment. Than what he would relieve for the rest of his days.

The mind was a powerful tool; one his ancestors had used shamelessly to destroy their foes and it seemed that Lily’s message was the last straw for Master Snape.

Did he feel pity for him?

Not particularly.

The Grim bared his fangs, assaulted by the strong smell of pain and misery.

“You are no longer fit to teach students,” he offered his arm to Narcissa which she took with a sigh. “I would suggest seeking forgiveness elsewhere. Reflect on your past transgressions. Meditate. And remember what had spurred the young Severus Snape into becoming the youngest and most accomplished Potion Master of his age. Leave this place for there is no place for you here anymore.”

Chapter Text

Rita Skeeter’s feral grin widened. She peeked at him from underneath her unnaturally long eyelashes. That should mean they had an understanding. Orion tried to remove the coldness from his tone as he asked. “You know the date.”

“Of course, Lord Black.” She smiled at him, which was possibly the most genuine smile she had offered in a while. A predatory spark invaded her expression. “I will do as you asked and I trust you will take care of the rest. Though, there will be no way out for him once I publish the book.”

Orion nodded once. Truth to be told, he went through a lot of trouble in the past months, working relentlessly from the shadows and arranging meetings with members of the Dark and Neutral factions. He even went as far as reaching for some Light families whose Lords and Ladies were not that loyal to Dumbledore.

He owned most of the success of his plan to the Black Book Cassiopeia left in his personal vault before she passed away a couple of years ago. Somehow, his favourite aunt predicted his return and decided to assist him. Nothing was out of the question for the Black Necromancer. No doubt, she knew he would come back—and seek revenge as soon as he did. 

“I trust you know better than to try and play games with me, Miss Skeeter,” he paused before his cool voice filled the space. “The deal won’t stand if you betray me. And I’m afraid, you will have only yourself to blame for what happens next. My family didn’t earn its reputation by being the most lenient one. I have no tolerance whatsoever for treacherous people.”

Her face became pale and stricken with fear, of which she might be mostly to blame considering her past deeds.

“I—I swear I…never…” The stutter in her voice amused him.

“Well then, everything seems to be in order, Miss Skeeter. I’ll wait for my copy of your upcoming book.” Her whole body tensed as he got to his feet. Orion fixed her with a blank expression before he walked towards the door. 

‘Good,’ the Grim drawled. ‘She should be both mortified and frightened for what she did to our Ailith. I do not understand what use the likes of her have for us. I despise bugs.’

Orion shrugged. “Don’t worry. She will have her turn soon.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Orion ran his fingers slowly over the shiny cover of the book he received a day ago, courtesy of Miss Rita Skeeter, as he waited for the Wizengamot session to begin.

Two thoughts came to mind: One, Minister Bones was not going to like what she was about to hear. In fact, it was going to start an uproar of epic proportions.

Two, Sirius would be rightfully avenged today and with that, this circle of rage and blood that started almost a year ago would end. 

His son had been outlawed without proof; held accountable for something he would never do. His kindred deserved nothing less than justice. No one was allowed to slight a member of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black and walk away unscathed. That conviction was enough to push him to retaliate and proceed with his plan. It was what kept him sane in the midst of the utter insanity of his rebirth.

‘We are almost there, Orion,’ the Grim drawled. ‘We can put all our attention on taking care of Ailith next.’

The man he loathed with every fibre of his body sauntered into the Wizengamot Chambers in his bright orange robes. His Aura alone told everyone that he was someone used to having people bow and scrape before him. It was the kind of smug insolence that made the Grim itch to sink his claws mercilessly into his flesh. 

“He should enjoy the last minutes of his reign,” Augustus Rookwood smirked. “He certainly lasted more than he deserved.”

Lord Corban Yaxley’s dark gaze burned with an amount of hate that would’ve startled a lesser man. “It’s his twisted version of right and wrong that created two Dark Lords and brought some Dark families to near extinction. Our magic cannot take this abuse any longer.”

“He seems quite fond of Phoenixes. He should know that the mightiest beings rise from ashes,” Orion pointed out. “He has no right to pose as judge and executioner. Wixen cannot be discarded or demonized because they are different.” One black brow shot north when Dumbledore’s eyes swept over him and his company. He looked at his people as if they repulsed him.

Minister Bones waved her hand impatiently. “Take your seats. I don’t plan to spend the night here.”

Murmurs and protests filled the room but everyone did as asked. Minister Bones looked at them sternly as if she wanted to strangle some of them.

Orion straightened his ornate robes and got to his feet like a panther ready to pounce. “Before we start today’s session, Minister Bones, I’d like to share a rather disturbing matter with you.” Making sure every eye was on him, he picked up the book slowly and lifted it. “Like every member of this honoured body, I received a copy of this book and I cannot help but worry. The writer shared an elaborate chain of events that had shaped Wizarding Britain as we know it. What she described was well-documented. They made sure their tale was believable with several testimonies included. How much of this book is accurate? I do not know but I wonder….” His silver-grey eyes narrowed on Dumbledore’s impassive face. “And I’ll be as bold as to assume that everyone present today wants to hear what our esteemed Chief Warlock has to say about his…biography?”

Dumbledore clenched his jaw. It was obvious he wasn’t used to being questioned.

Orion took his seat and leaned his back against its comfy back. He didn’t as much as blink as he watched the man who caused many innocents so much grief. Memories surfaced and something in his chest burned as he remembered Sirius. His son wasn’t offered the luxury of being questioned before he was thrown into Azkaban like a criminal. Dumbledore should be grateful for his clemency.

As if reading the dark thoughts taxing his mind, Augustus whispered. “He’s lucky you’ve decided to deal with him in a very un-Black manner because if it was your father or worse yet—the late Miss Cassiopeia Black, I trust we’d be finding body parts in the most unexpected places. As a warning, of course.”

Orion met his ally’s gaze with a twinkle of humour in his eyes and smirked. If Augustus thought this was all he had in store for Dumbledore, he was overly mistaken. He might not be his father or aunt, but he was no less vicious. 

Never forget. Never forgive  weren’t mere words; they were the code of honour every Black lived by.

Minister Bones adjusted her monocle as her brows popped. “Well, Lord Black is right. I was about to bring this matter to today’s session. Before you start, let me remind you that I know of the unsavoury past you had with the Daily Prophet before Voldemort was vanquished. However, Miss Skeeter—no matter how some might claim is not the most trustworthy reporter, offered to swear an oath that every word she wrote was the truth. I find her claim overly intriguing.”

Dumbledore nodded and Orion didn’t think he’d ever seen the older man so uncomfortable. He thanked the Fates for guiding him. For once, the great Albus Dumbledore was getting a taste of his own medicine.

Today, he wasn’t the one pointing the finger at those he considered lesser and unimportant.

“Mr Dumbledore?” Minister Bones’ gaze was sharp as if she was gauging the Chief Warlock’s reaction.

He was silent for a minute and Orion saw rage in his eyes. “Pardon me, Amelia but I don’t find this book worth discussing to begin with. I trust we have more important matters to—“

“You will address me by my title, Mr Dumbledore.” The words burst out of Minister Boners. “I am the one asking questions today and you will answer.”

Orion’s lips curled in the faintest of smiles when he saw the disbelief itched into Dumbledore’s features.

“Did you or did you not have a relationship of a romantic nature with Gellert Grindelwald in your youth?” 

The gathered nobility exploded into a chatter of incredulity and outrage.

‘But he was the one who killed him!’

‘Yet, it took him a decade to agree to that duel…don’t you think….’

‘Dumbledore never showed the slightest interest in a lover be it woman or man…Maybe….’

‘Dumbledore keeps his secrets close to his chest. I won’t be surprised if his first love was none other than the previous Dark Lord…’

“Enough!” Minister Bones ordered. “Mr Dumbledore, would you answer the question? I won’t hesitate to call for a trial under Veritaserum if you don’t. No one is above the law in this country. Absolutely no one.”

Dumbledore nodded and his gaze clashed with him again, narrowing, his jaw rippling as if he was grinding his teeth. “I knew Gellert in my youth. He used to visit his aunt Bathilda Bagshot in Godric’s Hollow. That’s how we first met.”

“And?” Minister Bones stressed.

“For a while, we were bound by friendship.”

Dozens of protests were heard. They came to an abrupt halt when Lord Warrington rose from his seat. “I’m afraid this is not enough. Was that bond on a platonic level, Mr Dumbledore?”

Dumbledore’s frail body was strung tight, his hands flexing as if he was looking for words. “Nothing physical happened. It was just companionship between two foolish youngsters.”

“With dreams of grandeur, Perhaps?” Lord Greengrass quipped. “If what Miss Skeeter shared is true—and I find myself strangely inclined to believe her tale, you and Grindelwald had the same goal: to rule the Wizarding World and exterminate Muggles.”

Realizing he was cornered, Dumbledore paled. “I will not be accused and disposed of in this manner! I won’t have it after everything I did for this country.”

“Order!” Minister Bones shouted turning to give Dumbledore a half-contemptuous glance. “And please, refrain from throwing accusations without proof, Lord Greengrass.”

“I disagree,” Dowager Longbottom said with a harsh tone. “Lord Greengrass’ worries are legitimate. I confess I’ve never warmed up to Dumbledore, something about him made it impossible for me to trust him like my son and daughter-in-law unfortunately did. I think it’s time to unveil the hidden and expose a past no one was private to.”

Orion scanned the crowd around him and waited calmly for the handful of members who raised their hands to speak before he posed a question of his own.

Dumbledore stroked his beard. “I’m afraid that my post is not up for public discussion. I admit I’ve been tricked by Grindelwald for a while until I exposed his lies. He ran away by the time I found out about his plan to rule our world. He dabbled into Dark Magic and was so far gone by the time I met him again. Dark Magic sullies the soul and blinds those who practice it. They can no longer differentiate between right and wrong.”

With a sigh that was nothing short of resigned, Orion raised his hand. When he spoke, his voice was calm and level. “I cannot help but believe that this radical ideology is what brought two wars upon us. Don’t you think it’s despotic to prosecute every Wixen with a Dark core for something they have no control over? Dark Wixen are born with Dark cores. It’s as simple as that. Not every Dark Wix is evil. And not every Light Wix is good. We can live in harmony and there would be no apparent bitterness between the Factions if not for prejudice and intolerance. I can give you an example. How do you think Lady Ailith Potter survived the night Voldemort attacked the Potters?”

“Lord Black!” Dumbledore hissed.

“It was thanks to the Blood Ritual the late Lady Lily Evans Potter performed. The Eihwaz Rune on Lady Potter’s forehead is proof enough of her mother’s devotion and resourcefulness.”

“And I second Lord Black's claim,” Augustus cleared his throat. “For years, I’ve been researching the strange events that took place in the Potters’ cottage that Samhain. It was definitely a Blood Ritual.”

“But that’s not the topic we’ll be discussing today, is it?” Orion announced. “It is your past and how much you’ve been involved in the rise and fall Grindelwald. I will be blunt and ask you this question: did you kill him during that duel? You claimed you did and no one saw him or heard from him but no body was found either,” he challenged. “What happened that night? Because if what Miss Skeeter wrote is true, you are no longer fit to sit on that chair and share the same air with us.”

“I agree,” Corban Yaxley stood followed by all the members of the Dark Faction. The Neutrals didn’t disappoint as they did the same, led by Lord Arkeus Warrington.

Dumbledore stared at them for a moment of incomprehension and then his nostrils flared when several members of the Light Faction joined them.

Helpless didn’t even come close to describe the myriad of emotions on Dumbledore’s face. It was the first time in decades that the three Factions were united. Their enemy was none other than the man who spread fear and lies for more than fifty years.

After what seemed an eternity, his grip loosened on his wand and he pushed himself to his feet. It was the cold, detached look he levelled them with that betrayed him. “Everything I did was for the good of our community. I wanted peace. I worked hard to end two Dark Lords. I saved all of you countless innocent deaths.” A tic started in his jaw. “I find myself totally bewildered. What am I doing here being questioned like a convict?”

Orion’s eyes darkened until they became an endless abyss. “Not every convict is given this privilege, Mr Dumbledore.”

‘You know that Sirius was an innocent but you did nothing to help him despite his loyalty to you. You wanted to have Ailith all to yourself; your faithful soldier.Your weapon.’

There was a slight widening in Dumbledore’s eyes. Breaching his Occlumency shields was no small feat. “Considering you have no intention to cooperate, I took matters into my own hands. For the greater good, of course,” he smirked. “I think you owe us an explanation and who’s better to help clarify this matter other than the man in question? Senior Auror Moody and Auror Tonks graciously agreed to take a trip with me to Nurmengard to bring a very special witness.”

Dumbledore shook his head slowly as fear shattered any pretence of composure he had. The door opened with a bang. Mad-Eye Moody entered first, his expression stormy. His spinning eye went instantly to Dumbledore. “I rue the day I called you a friend, Albus. Wasn’t it enough that I spent a year confined to a trunk in your school and now this? You are a disgrace.”

Several members were aghast at Moody’s venomous words. “Tonks!” he bellowed. “Bring the prisoner in!”

Tonks walked first, taking care to keep close to her charge. A haggard, unnaturally thin old man walked beside her, Magical Suppressing Cuffs on both wrists. When he lifted his head, ice-blue eyes zeroed on a pallid Dumbledore. “Hello Albus, have you missed me?” his grin was twisted. It promised a world of pain to his former partner. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Sunlight glittered through the canopy of interlaced branches overhead as they entered the garden populated with beautiful flowers and medicinal herbs.

Exuberantly Ailith threw her arms into the air and exclaimed, “I missed home.”

She had to admit that since the renovations, there could hardly be a more beautiful house than 12, Grimmauld Place. Orion being the other occupant of that house didn’t hurt either. In fact, it made it tenfold more appealing to her.

As they walked in silence, she reflected on the dramatic events that had occurred recently. The horrific revelation of Dumbledore’s betrayal would have thrown Magical Britain into utter chaos if not for Madam Bones’ firm hand. After Gellert Grindelwald's testimony under Veritaserum, all the crimes of her former Headmaster were revealed to the public. For once, Rita Skeeter did not lie. The Life and Lies of Albus Dumbledore was in reality a part of the diary Gellert Grindelwald wrote. He confessed everything that took place between him and Albus. 

After the trial, Dumbledore was stripped of all his titles and assigned to a single cell in the highest—and coldest tower of Nurmengard where he would spend his remaining days. Alone and without access to his magic.

Surprisingly, she felt no pity for the man who wronged her and her family—and countless other innocents.

There was no compassion in Orion’s eyes as he recounted what took place in the Wizengamot chambers that day. Ailith didn’t need to ask to know he had a hand in what happened.

Orion being selected as the new Chief Warlock surprised no one. He did the impossible and united the three warring Factions.

During the time they spent together, she came to understand his thirst for revenge; his need to right the past’s wrongs and give his family the justice they’d been denied for decades.

That dark, vicious part of him didn’t bother her because it didn't take away from the great man he was. He cared for her, liked being with her, spending time with her, teaching her, making her laugh and holding her when she cried.

So far he’d ensured her safety, given her ability to live her life freely and without fear, and exposed her to a world no one as innocent and oblivious as she was knew existed.

Thanks to his care, she flourished and came into her own. Despite the circumstances of their first meeting, she managed to cope beautifully, as he’d told her, and it all seemed rather effortless to her. As if they were always meant to be.

Ailith did not doubt for a moment that a happily ever after was definitely in the cards for them, even with his quest for revenge. Because they would make it happen. Together.

Orion’s brows came down and she knew she wasn’t going to enjoy whatever he was about to say. He seldom showed emotions unless it was something related to her.

“Ailith….” His elegant finger traced her scar lightly, making her brows furrow in worry. “Do you remember what I told you about the Horcruxes?”

She swallowed thickly. “Yes. Voldemort created many so he could come back whenever he died. But you’ve collected and destroyed them, right?”

“Unfortunately, one of them remains.” His voice came shaky.

She drew a ragged breath and tried to get hold of herself. Tightening her grip on his arm, she looked into his beautiful eyes. “Which one?”

“A rather unique one. It’s one of a kind. A very special one that even Voldemort with all his knowledge did not expect,” he said slowly.

Ailith’s heart began a rapid rhythm that sent the blood in a dizzying rush through her veins. She had never felt so afraid. She thought she was close to her happily ever after. Only one year in Hogwarts and then she’d be free to build a life with the man she loved.

The regret in his eyes was unbearable. It made her feel like her heart was being clawed savagely out of her chest and stomped upon by a herd of Hippogriffs.

“Orion….” His name left her dry lips like a prayer. There was no need for her rising panic. There was no point in going there. Redundant thinking was not her thing.

“There’s a way. A Soulbond for a Soul shard.”

The air in her lungs seemed to expand painfully. She let out a swift, shallow breath, and another, and then she let her head drop on his shoulder. “And I will be free?”

“You will be free of Voldemort but forever bound to me. We will share everything: our magic, our life force, our heartbeat. There is no way out of a Soulbound, Ailith.” His voice conveyed his desperation, his fear…of rejection.

The tension mixed with something soft and gentle in the lines of his handsome face registered as he looked down at her. Waiting patiently.

“When?” Her arms locked around his neck and pulled him against her.

“If you agree, as soon as you are of age. On your birthday.” He stared at her intently, a frown disturbing the smooth plane of his forehead. “I’ve been looking for months for a way to destroy it without harming you but I’m afraid, there’s no other…”

She silenced him with a finger. “I don’t want another way. I want to be free. When I am with you, I am the happiest. I trust you.”

He yanked her to him with an arm around her waist and held her tightly for a moment, his face buried in her hair. She revelled in the feel of him so strong, so sure, so real against her.

“I shall never give you cause to regret your choice. I swear it.” 

She heard the thick emotion in his voice as he brushed her hair back from her face, and then laid a very tender kiss on her cheek. She savoured that touch so much. At that moment, Ailith realized that her worst fear was having to live in a world where Orion Arcturus Black did not exist.

“You are my future,” she whispered against his mouth before she claimed his lips in a kiss; a sharing of tenderness and love that left her shaking in his arms. 

However, she had never felt stronger in her life.

Chapter Text

Hand in hand, Orion and Ailith walked through the chilled mist of the morning, heading to Godric’s Hollow’s Cemetery.

The light of dawn had whisked away the haze of night, turning the sky a soft pink and washing the roads clean of dust and ghosts’ whispers.

Orion’s senses were raw and sharpened as an unfamiliar energy vibrated through the very air they breathed.

The Olde Magic of the ancient village was potent and alluring. No wonder, Godric’s Hollow was one of the most sacred places in Magical Britain.

It was where the three Elder Peverells met Death and accepted his gifts. Where Laird Godric Gryffindor held his son for the very first time. Where Lady Iolanthe Peverell bonded with Lord Hardwin Potter; the First of his name, and merged the two families’ magics in a way that could never be undone. It was Where the Pottters accepted Lady Ioanthe’s dowry, knowing what that action would entail. It was where Death found his Mistress. It was where his and Ailith’s story started sixteen years ago, even though he was nothing but a wandering soul at the time.

Bringing Ailith to this place was one of the hardest things he’d ever done, but they could not turn the page and start a new life without making peace with the past. He had learned that grueling lesson the hard way. 

The kind of loss they had suffered was so persistent that, at times, it threatened to stop their hearts from beating. However, together, they could put an end to that grief.

When she could no longer mask her shivers, he draped a hand around her shoulders and pulled her against his side, giving her all the comfort she needed.

He lifted her cold hand to his lips and pressed a lingering kiss on her knuckles. “It will be fine.”

“I know,” she said, giving him a reassuring smile and knotting their fingers together. “I want to be here. I want to share today with them.”

He nodded slightly, cupping her cheek tenderly. “And I am honoured to be here.”

Ailith bit her lower lip when he opened the gate to the Potters Cemetery and led her to her parents’ graves. Her knees did not betray her but the moment she stepped in front of them, they gave out and she sank down, finally giving up on pretending to be strong.

She did not pretend whenever they were together. He treasured all of her: weakness and strength and gifts and faults. He knew she needed this moment of privacy to try and sort out her conflicting thoughts and wounded heart.

She blotted her stinging eyes with the handkerchief he offered and let a shaking sigh out.

“I don’t know what to say,” she said, sounding small and lost.

“They will appreciate anything you want to share with them,” he suggested gently. “If you need more privacy, I can leave.” The last thing he wanted was to leave her side at this moment.

“No!” She said, reaching up to grip his hand more firmly. “I don’t want to be alone. I…”

“They love you,” he repeated.

Ailith took a deep breath and looked at her father’s grave first. Orion waved his hand and conjured a black flame. It took the shape of a tiny Stag that started galloping over the smooth marble.

Ailith smiled. “Dad… As much as it hurts to admit it, I remember nothing of our time together. Everyone says I have your temper and your hair. Well…I guess I do going by how much I reminded Snape of you.” She broke into a teary grin, her body visibly relaxing. “I’ve also inherited your skill with a broom. I heard that Mom wasn’t very fond of Quidditch. A pity, if you ask me. Nothing beats a race with the wind to leave behind every concern, obligation—and betrayal. This is Orion, my soon-to-be husband.” She intertwined their fingers. “He’s Sirius’ father, can you believe that? But I guess, nothing could surprise you considering you—unlike me —were raised in Magical Britain.” She shook her head wistfully. “I guess growing up with Grandpa and Grandma was lovely and quiet and safe. Bad things had happened to me after the night you—you left me.”

A slight breeze started and the tree branches swayed softly. Orion wasn’t fooled, though. He felt the ripples of sadness in the air.

“For years, I believed that a lovely future was out of my grasp. For years, I blamed you and Mom for leaving me alone. I thought I would die, never to be resurrected again. I thought I would join you.” An involuntary sound of anguish escaped her lips. Unsteadily, she ran her shaking fingers over the marble. “But Death had other plans for me. He gave me a gift beyond measure. He gave me love. I heard stories of you and Mom’s courting, and I believe it was anything but smooth.”

Orion smiled.

“Mine and Orion’s love is different. It’s quiet, with a thrill that only being together can bring. When I am with him, I don’t feel washed out anymore. I know I’m real. I know I deserve this happiness. I feel coated with sunshine. Isn’t that love, Dad? It’s the only kind of love I know. So, will you bless our love?”

Ailith looked taken aback when the Stag stopped moving and peered up at her with intelligent eyes. The light glancing off its translucent body dazzled her eyes. Unsteadily, she stood up and lowered her forehead to his shoulder. Warm magic woke up in the air, bringing a blanket of peace around them. Orion heard the veiled warning in the eerie whispers.

‘He agrees to this match,’ the Grim smiled. ‘Nonsense, since Ailith was always meant for us. She is ours.’

Slowly, almost fearfully, Ailith wandered to Lily’s grave. A bed of lilies sprang around the pristine marble the moment she touched it with a hesitant finger. "Mom…" She swallowed hard. “How can I ever repay you? Your sacrifice—You were willing to make such a sacrifice for me. You offered yourself up for me. I love—I miss you and feel your absence keenly. It’s a small relief that you are not there alone. You have Dad and Sirius to keep you company.”

A hot stream of tears slid down her cheeks as she spoke. ‘’At times, I think I hear your voice in my head. You keep pushing me and urging me to endure. Does a part of you live in me? I’d like to believe so.”

The lilies’ petals shone with the brilliance of midday. Orion kept an arm around Ailith, trying to protect her from the staggering grief.

A wistful thought, for he knew grief so well and how overwhelming and merciless it was. Life might be fleeting, but those we hold dear in our hearts never die.

“A part of her will always live in you,” he said, kissing the top of her head.

“Thank you.” A coughing sob broke from her throat. “I wish Sirius had a burial place we could visit.”

Orion stared back at her calmly and nodded, doing his best to conceal how incredibly gutted he felt because his son was denied this small courtesy.

But Sirius would always remain precious to him. The only good thing in a past he didn’t want to remember. He wouldn’t allow it to be taken away from him. Not for a day, an hour, or even a minute. Not while his heart was still beating. Not while the Black Family Magic was still a breathing and living entity.

He plastered Ailith’s hand over his heart. “He’s here. And so is Regulus. Always.”

A little, sad smile chased across her features. He wound his arms around her waist and whispered. “Your parents agree. What do you want to do next, future Lady Black?”

The faintest blush stained her throat and crept to her cheeks. “I want to become Lady Black for real.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The mermaid-like design with a long train of her wedding dress trailed behind her as she inspected her reflection in the mirror.

The dress was made of Faery-weaved Acromantula silk. It felt heavenly against her skin. It hugged her figure seamlessly but at the same time, kept her innocent aura intact.

Her hair was down in heavy, dark locks that reached her waist. The soft makeup Ginny had applied to her face highlighted her eyes.

She shifted on her feet and bit her lip hardly able to believe that the woman looking back as her from the huge mirror was her.

“You look beautiful,” Narcissa smiled as she adjusted the diamond headpiece holding the veil into place. The heirloom belonged to Lady Celeste Black, the firstborn daughter of Lord Hyperion and his favourite child according to stories.

‘’I love everything about the dress design. It suits you,” Hermione smiled, looking gorgeous in her silver bridesmaid dress.

Ginny, Luna and Astoria Greengrass—Draco’s betrothed—were wearing  similar dresses. Every bridesmaid had accessorized her hair with a Lily hair comb to honour Lily Evans Potter.

“Orion will surely appreciate the dress thoroughly,” Tonks snickered. Even heavily pregnant, the Auror hadn’t lost her sense of humour.

“You mean like Remus had appreciated your pink wedding dress? It was lovely,” Luna said innocently making Tonks’ splutter and blush.

Ailith grinned. Luna never failed to bring a smile to her lips, even at the oddest time. Her blond hair contrasted beautifully with the dress, and she wondered how long it would take Neville to confess his feelings.

The conversation and laughter of the gathered guests carried up from the gardens through the open window into the room.

When they started planning their Bonding Ceremony, she asked Orion to hold it at Grimmauld Place. It was the first home she called hers; her safe haven and the place that brought her a family and so much joy. She was aware of the bittersweet memories the walls of House Black’s Stronghold carried and she wanted to wash away all that misery, loss, and betrayal and bring back happiness.

It was where Orion was born, where Sirius was born and she would forever be grateful that she had the chance—and privilege to meet such amazing men in this lifetime.

Hermione wrapped her arms around her from behind and rested her chin on her shoulder. “You will be happy. I see it in Orion’s eyes. He loves you more than anything.”

Her eyes started tearing up when everyone nodded vigorously. She linked her fingers with her best friend’s and whispered. “Thank you. For everything.”

A knock sounded. Draco stepped in, scanning her with a soft smile on his face. He looked dashing in his lavish black robes.

“Are you ready, Lady Black?” he smirked. “I’m afraid I must escort you down. Your groom is waiting.”

She smoothed her dress nervously. “I am.”

Narcissa handed her flower bouquet, an assortment of Dahlia for dignity and elegance, purple Lilac for the first emotions of love, Mountain Ash for ‘I would always watch over you', and Phlox for ‘our hearts would be forever united’. Orion had picked it up for her, and Andromeda had explained the sentiment behind every flower.

Her heels clacked on the marble floor, and her heart pounded in her chest as they stepped onto the garden.

The front was occupied by a silver-gilded pavilion, where Orion and Amelia Bones waited. A path of red roses led toward him. They started floating around her as she advanced, taking hopeful steps toward a future she couldn’t wait to start building with the man she loved.

Her throat became too tight when he offered her that small, faint smile she adored. Her heartbeats went scattering like pearls from a broken necklace the moment they reached his side.

Draco kissed her on the cheek and whispered. “Be brave, Potter. I know you can do it.”

Orion offered her his hand and she took it. His magic washed over her, potent and familiar. Everything about his posture emphasized power and confidence. It soothed a part of her that had long yearned for protection.

There was a heartbeat of time when everything froze. Her world was reduced to his iridescent eyes and the promises she read in their depths.

Amelia Bones’ eyes shifted between them, then she cleared her throat. “Ladies, Lords and Gentlefolk. Family and friends, it is truly a beautiful day as we gather for a Bonding Ceremony to join Lady Ailith of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Potter and Lord Orion of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black. All of you assembled here are the most important people in their lives, and they know that making the journey took considerable effort for a good many of you. For this, they are deeply grateful. We also recognize those loved ones watching us from the heavens above, whom we still deeply miss. We feel their magic with us, knowing that even though they are unable to grace us with their presence, we carry them always in our hearts.” Amelia smiled and offered Orion the Ceremony Dagger. “Lady Potter and Lord Black wanted to have a Bonding Ceremony according to the Olde Ways. For those who had never had the privilege of witnessing one, let me explain what this particular bond entails. The bride and groom will share everything; their life force, their magic and their blood. The promises and vows you will make on this day will be eternally binding. Mother Magic will guide you into your common future. My Lord and Lady, are you ready to join your lives together and trust your magic to carry you through the coming years of celebration and challenge? Will you give each other this blessing of deep trust?”

Orion looked into her eyes as he whispered for her ears only. “I have been in love with no one and never shall,” he smiled. “Unless it should be with you. My heart will be yours now and always. Will you take my blood?”

She let out a swift intake of breath at the tenderness that laced his voice. She swallowed loudly, lost for words. Nothing could ever convey how much she loved this man. “Only yours.”

His eyes pierced her, luminous and mysterious as the heart of a star, as he took the Dagger and cut his palm.

He stroked her cheek with his fingertips, and she took the offered Dagger and did the same.

Carefully, he lifted his hand, his blood dripping crimson and enticing. Her heart pounding, Ailith joined their hands and closed her eyes. 

Every movement, measure, and pulse of the universe had distilled to that compelling moment. Her heart was shuttered blissfully as it found its twin. She felt Orion in every cell of her body. In every drop of her blood. In every part of her soul. Shudders racked her body, and her scar burned with renowned vigour as the vile soul shard fought for survival. Eventually, it was overpowered by Orion’s gift. Her body sagged against his, and he caught her in his arms. “Are you alright?”

Ailith looked at him with heavy-lidded, grateful eyes. It took her a heartbeat to grasp the enormity of the moment.

How hard had she fought against the Fates, for reasons she still didn’t fully understand. But now, she was no longer alone. She had someone with whom she shared everything with a reverence and intensity that eclipsed everything else. She didn’t care what the future had in store for them because she knew that she wouldn’t be fighting alone. She had Orion, and it was all that mattered.

Amelia bones took the Ceremony Dagger back and, stealthily, mopped the corner of her eye. “Now that the hardest part is over, are you ready to take your vows?”

Ailith sent her a charming smile. “We are ready.”

“Well then…” Amelia looked at them, then dampened her lips. “Lady Potter, Lord Black, please repeat after me: I plight thee my troth, and promise my love, to be by your side in times of gladness and times of challenge. I will honor you and listen to your words. I will be your sword and shield and have you in my heart today, tomorrow, and till no breath is left in me. So Mote Be it.”

Orion started reciting his vows, and her heart tripped a little at the tone of his voice. Not a long ago, she would never have envisioned surviving the war, let alone being married at all, much less to such an amazing man.

And now, she was Lady Black in blood and in magic.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Orion knocked softly. When he heard Ailith’s voice, he entered their bedroom. He found her standing on the balcony, gazing at the twinkling stars. 

He regarded her with a faint, wry smile as he approached her. “My love, you’ve already given me the best gift of my life. I could ask for nothing more. You owe me nothing.” He lifted a hand to caress her cheek. “If you’re not ready, I’ll go now.”

She turned her face to nudge a smile into his palm and said. "Don’t even think of leaving me. I’m only a little nervous, that’s all.”

His gaze chased lightly over her, the snowy velvet dressing gown open to reveal her lace chemise and naked thighs.

‘She wants you as much as you want her,’ the Grim asserted smugly.

Orion cursed the creature and advanced slowly. He was almost shocked by the rush of tenderness he felt. She looked so small and innocent in her night garments.

He caressed her shining dark hair and ran his fingertips over her cheek and the neat curve of her ear. Her skin gleamed like a pearl in the light. “We don’t need to rush anything. There’s time enough to take everything slow. We can stop, too, if you feel uncomfortable. Just say the word.”

Her blush deepened, but to his delight, she glanced up at him with a little grin. ‘’Two hours ago, you vowed to love and cherish me till end of time. Show me what love is. I want to feel everything. With you.”

A dark smile flashed in his face. “I take my vows very seriously, Lady Black.” He approached her from behind, kissing the side of her throat. She drew in a breath when he let a claw out and pressed it suggestively against the knot of her dressing gown. It gave away. Gleefully, he helped her out of it, then threw it away carelessly. It landed in a heap on the floor.

“Orion… Did you have to….” Her voice faded as he worked his way down her neck.

“Yes, I did,” he whispered, smirking as she shivered. “The Grim wants you too. So much. He’s been restless for days.”

Gently turning her to face him, he stared into her eyes. There was something different about her, he thought. A curious vulnerability he had never seen before.

“Only the Grim?” Her emerald-green eyes were soft and alive with excitement.

“What do you want me to tell you, my sweet wife?” He drew her against him, wrapping his arms around her, and he whispered into her ear. “That I’ve been waiting for the right time to claim you and make you mine? I've never wanted a woman the way I want you. I can’t wait to trace every inch of your body with my lips. To mark you in an unmistakable way so you will never forget whom you belong to. Whom do you belong with. I didn’t want to scare you off. It was for your own good.”

His breath started shortening as he he felt her curious, small hands beginning to wander over him. “You could never scare me. I know who you are.”

He looked down at her, his eyes sparking. With a fleeting thought, his shirt disappeared and he stood before her in his trousers. Her breath caught and she lifted her hands to his naked chest.

“That’s good to know. I have no reason to postpone this, then,” he smiled, his eyes half-closed. Her innocent touch was almost too pleasurable to bear. For decades, he missed human touch. But nothing could measure up to this.

Nothing could measure up to his Ailith.

“This?” She paused, looking up at him with wide eyes.

“Yes. This.” He bent to her lips, shaping them with a long, searing kiss until they clung and trembled. His voice thickened slightly as he continued. “The full extent of my love.”

He took her trembling mouth again, his fingers spreading over her back as he molded her closer against him.

The feel of her—all those lean curves contained in lace—nearly drove him mad. Fortunately, he was a very patient man. He sent his tongue deeper, the silky warmth of her was so enticing, and he couldn’t restrain a satisfied chuckle when she moaned and clung to him desperately.

He lifted her to the bed and climbed in after her. A smile tugged at his lips when she popped up on her elbows and glanced over at him, waiting for his next move.

He reached out to play with the lace trim at her nightgown. “Aren’t you a little overdressed? I think this needs to go away. It’s only fair considering I took my shirt off.”

Her blush deepened until even her ears were red. “I’m not sure,” she said, flustered, and his mischievous grin deepened. “I will be gentle. Every moment. You have nothing to fear.” He let his fingers follow the lace to her shoulders.

When she nodded, he eased the garment over her head and tossed it aside. He showered her neck and the upper slopes of her breasts with butterfly kisses, rendering her soft skin sunset red.

He caressed her waist, then her hips, fondling his way down to the small triangle at the juncture of her thighs. Although he was dying to play with her, he continued to browse over her, marveling at the beautiful, smoothly muscled body and the silky skin.

“You are so beautiful,” he said huskily, cupping one of her breasts and stroking his thumb over the taut peak. “You steal my breath away.”

She gasped as he leaned over her to catch the tip of a breast with a slow kiss. Her hands came around his neck as he feasted on the lush curves, using his lips, tongue, and the light grazes of his teeth.

“Orion…please….” Her weak voice floated up to his ears.

Quivers ran along her body, and he followed them with his fingertips and his lips, down to the tender place between her thighs. His fingers traced her slit until she panted and writhed under him. Staring into her dilated, dark eyes, he realized she was already close to the edge.

“Ailith,” he whispered, watching as her lashes lowered, trembling against her pink cheeks. “Not so fast. Bide for a while, my love.”

“I—I can’t… ‘’ She moaned and snuggled tightly against him.

He kissed her lips and along her throat, stomach and hips, gradually getting lower until he reached where she needed him most.

His mouth stroked the silky flesh, and it pulsed with need. More wetness emerged at his touch. She begged him for mercy, for a moment’s respite, but he smirked, his voice rough with triumph. “Not yet, my sweet. You asked for this.”

She tried to sit bolt-upright, but fell back against the pillows as he found what he wanted. Desperately, she closed her legs around his head, curling her fingers in his hair. He chuckled and turned deliberately to nibble and lick at one pale inner thigh, then the other. Feasting on her and relishing in the sounds she made.

“Orion!” There was a suspended moment as it all caught up to her.

She arched, caught her breath and began to shudder endlessly. A deep and primal satisfaction filled him at the sounds of her pleasure and the sweet pulsing around his fingers.

Teasingly, he blew a stream of cool air over her throbbing clit, enjoying her quivers.

When she relaxed helplessly, he let go of her just long enough to undress completely. Naked and aroused, he came back to her and gathered her up in blatant need, settling over her.

‘Mark her,’ the Grim growled.

Every fiber of his body demanded that he take her and make her irrevocably his. His human half, fortunately, was still coherent.

“Ailith,” he rasped against her lips. “Do you want me to use the contraception spell?”

Her eyes snapped open and her hand went instinctively to her flat stomach.

“The choice is yours.” A gentle smile flicked across his mouth when she looked at him with so much yearning. He couldn’t resist and pressed his lips to hers.

“I want a son,” she answered firmly.

He growled with enjoyment, and she lifted her arms to him, beckoning.

His head descended, his cheek rasping against hers. She tilted her knees to cradle his body, and he luxuriated at the moment, capturing it and turning it into a memory he would cherish forever.

Black candles floated over their heads, the air warm and sultry with Dark Magic and exotic promises.

He pushed gently at first and she let him with utter surrender. He caught her gasp of pain, then her bewildered breath of wonder. He pinned her down when she writhed in pleasure.

She reached down and stroked his back in shy encouragement and he groaned, his entire body trembling as he fought the inevitable.

He stared down at her. Her eyes were brilliant in her flushed face. She looked a bit disoriented as she experienced the wonder of sharing one’s body with another.

She buried her face on his throat when his pace intensified and shook all over when he whispered in her ear. “I love you, my Ailith.”

It was all she needed to fully surrender to passion. Minutes passed before either of them spoke. They stayed wrapped together, fused, warm, and unwilling to part.

He smiled as he felt her lips drift over his face. When she reached his chin, she gave it a small kiss. “And I love you, my Grim.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Supreme Mugwump, Lord Orion Arcturus Black banged his gravel, his eyes narrowing dangerously on the wizard standing before him.

“I’m afraid that ideas like yours, Minister Kovacs, are the seed of bigotry and discrimination in our society. You cannot judge people solely on their core affinity. By categorizing Wixen by Dark or Light Magic, you invent a cruel hierarchy that can destroy our world as we know it. Did you learn nothing from the Global Wizarding War or the rise and fall of Voldemort?” His eyes became dark and baleful.

The other man let his hands fall by his side and paled.

He smirked, but instead of taunting, it appeared downright sinister. “I didn’t end Dumbledore’s reign to have another one.” He flattened his hands on the podium, keeping everyone pinned into place with his eyes. “I didn’t accept this position because I need power or prestige; I have enough of both.” His voice lowered, which made it all the more chilling. “I did it because I could no longer watch from the shadows as people like you raised and ruined everything our forefathers spent eons building.”

“I—Your honour….’’ The Hungarian Minister for Magic stuttered pathetically.

“You think I don’t know that you are playing a very dangerous game right now?” Orion’s face turned blank as he shredded the Minister’s Occlumency shields and delved mercilessly into his mind . “I know everything. As it happens, I take my responsibilities very seriously.”

Andris Kovacs met his unfeeling eyes with fear-filled ones. “So you want to revive Grindelwald’s legacy and finish what he failed to accomplish? Even he knows better than to make the same mistake twice.”

“I second his Honour,” the Romanian Minster for Magic rose to his feet. “There has been some disturbing activity in Hungary for the past month. Minister Kovacs, unfortunately, is the main culprit. Many Dark families had been attacked for no other reason than their Magical Affinity.”

“I call for a fair trial under Veritaserum,” Minister Bones snarled, looking ready to direct her wand at the coward.

Everyone elected as a member of the International Confederation of Wizards stood as well.

Kovacs looked around, his expression desperate and his face pale. “You cannot…”

“I can and I will.” Orion’s voice was swift and calm.

When Amelia Bones proposed his name for the highest office in the Wizarding World, he didn’t hesitate. He pulled strings and used every bit of power he possessed to get what he wanted.

Everything that was yanked away from his family was back where it belonged. A direct descendant of Hyperion Black the First was never meant to bow and follow.

Blacks were born to rule.

It wasn’t mainly power he was after, it was justice and balance.

His lips twitched when two MACUSA Senior Aurors dragged the helpless man away. They would hold a public trial in a week. He glided his fingers over the smooth wood of the podium and gazed at the rulers of the Magical World looking at him with reverence and respect.

Contrary to the picture he gave to the world, there was nothing soft or remotely gentle about him. He might appear like an elegant gentleman, a highbred lord, but he was all rough edges and power simmering under the surface, waiting to be unleashed on the world.

His journey was far from over, for he would not rest until every child of Mother Magic was treated fairly and equally.

‘The world is ours for the taking,’ the Grim stretched lazily.

“Of course, it is.” He smirked.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Ailith sat on St Mungo's bed, propped against the headboard, her face colorless and damp with sweat and tears. Her grip on Orion’s hand tightened as the Mediwitch tended to her.

“You are here,” she said weakly.

“I told you that nothing is more important to me in this world than you,” he said, lifting her shaking hand to his lips, then pressing it against his cool cheek. “I wish I could take your pain away.”

She managed a small laugh, then gasped.

When she refused to take contraceptives on their first night together, she hadn’t considered the possibility of waiting months to get pregnant. Months she spent at her home just…relaxing and regrouping.

Many had expressed their surprise at her choice, but she was past the point of caring. They had no idea how trying it was to live up to people’s expectations.

Her family had encouraged and supported her choice. She was young. She had all the time in the world to decide what she wanted to do later. It would definitely be something unrelated to fighting, she had enough of that.

When she learned she was pregnant, she had never been so happy. At the same time, the lurking, nagging worry about her child was everpresent. And there was also the question of what she sensed with every part of her soul.

Her child would be special; she knew it. The Peverell Magic was dreadfully protective of it; it seldom let anyone but Orion get too close to her.

The Deathly Hallows had started acting up, whispering soothing words and dark promises in her mind. She swore that the shadows in the rooms took the shape of a towering being at the oddest hour, and she dreaded to investigate or ask because, at a bone-deep level, she knew that Death was taking care of her and the child.

Orion knelt next to her as her face pinched in pain. He leaned over her, his forearms braced outside hers. His warm magic swaddled her, giving her some measure of comfort. It felt good, as if nothing could harm her.

He looked at her. “Stay with me, my love. It’s almost over.”

Tears leaked from her eyes but she nodded despite the excoriating pain.

The Mediwitch wrapped an arm around her waist, bringing her attention back to her. “One more push, Lady Potter-Black. I can see the head.”

Her face tightened with determination, and she gave another push. Orion cupped her face between his hands and peppered her damp cheeks and forehead with kisses. “You are the strongest woman I know.”

“Go ahead, Lady Potter-Black,” the Mediwitch urged. “A few good pushes, and you’ll be meeting your child. Breathe deep and focus. Your body knows what it needs to do. Don’t fight it, let it happen.”

Ailith gripped her knees and curled her spine. Her chin dropped to her chest and she growled as she pushed with all her might.

She sagged against the damp sheets when a loud scream echoed off the walls.

The Mediwitch smiled. “Congratulations. You have a lovely son.”

Tears gathered at the corners of her eyes, then slid down unabashed as she looked at her son.

His little mouth opened wide and indignant as the Mediwitch lifted him, so Orion could cut the umbilical cord. His tiny, perfect limbs flailed as she dried them with a towel. His sounds changed to whimpers as she wrapped him up in a new, dry towel and put him over her naked chest.

She cried as she looked down at him before holding him with her shaking arms.

He was perfect.

“Hello.'’ Her whisper was feather-soft. “We’ve been waiting for you.”

Orion leaned down next to her and rested his forehead against her temple—just breathing her in. Holding them both close.

‘’I’ll give you a moment.” The Mediwitch bowed and left the room silently. As soon as the door was closed, her son opened his eyes.

Ailith and Orion gasped at once. They knew those eyes. Those familiar, unforgettable eyes. The most beautiful silver-grey eyes they had ever seen.

She swore they were glinting with ancient knowledge.

“Sirius….” She whispered.

“Sirius Orion Potter-Black the Fourth,’’ Orion said hoarsely.

The light burned low in the room, its glow devoured by the encroaching shadows. Ailith blinked as she saw sparks form in the corner of the room. It was the Elder Wand. It was reacting to her son's birth.

“Do you think…” she licked her suddenly dry lips.

Orion glanced down at Sirius. His hair was tousled, and his eyes were swirling with unshed tears.

“My heart,” he breathed. “I missed you so much. There’s no version of you that I would not choose, my son." His gaze held hers as he added softly. “That we would not choose as our son. At last, we are together.”