Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.
AN: Another chap! Guess I'm on a roll. Thanks for the reviews, I'm glad there's been interest. Hope you enjoy Orion's side. He's fun to write too. So much softer and squishier than Walburga. But they're both so snobby XD It means, years later poor Reggie gets a double dose of snobbery. And now I really need to do my homework.
Chapter 4: If I Had To Choose A Scandal For Her
Orion pushed away the bowl of oatmeal his house elf, Shybee, kept nudging toward him.
He just wasn't hungry. Hadn't been since Walburga waltzed out the previous day, happier than he'd seen her in ages.
He looked further down at the table where he'd recruited his parents and sisters because…
He just didn't think he could do it.
They were combing through several newspaper editions for an engagement announcement. They'd found two which nearly felled him until it was revealed as only the MacMillan family (to which Mother replied she'd need to buy a gift to show her congratulations for her kin) and some Weasley (but there was always a Weasley somewhere getting married).
Thus far, they'd found nothing about Walburga. But until the day passed and the newspapers proved nothing more sinister at work, or Walburga saw fit to release him from this torment by admitting she was just playing with him, he couldn't afford to relax.
"Master Orion should eat," Shybee murmured—twisting pale green fingers into her toga.
The thought made him ill.
Arcturus rolled his eyes at his son. "For God's sake, Orion, if not for your own, eat. We can always go straight to the source, Pollux, and demand answer. I doubt he'd stand to let her elope."
But he was such a cruel warlock, Orion's heartbreak would make him laugh. As if he didn't feel awful enough now...
His father sighed, "You monopolized a month of her time and didn't manage to woo her successfully. You-"
"There was no hint of a lover, none! We could afford to take our time."
"You had a whole month to propose, Orion." Arcturus insisted. "You dragged your feet."
"I didn't want it coming out of the blue!"
"You must've been entirely too subtle."
"I made several overtures but she didn't quite catch on."
"Or she was being politely indifferent to discourage you," Melania murmured.
"Mother!"
"She's quite right." Arcturus delivered a hard scowl, "If Walburga thinks you insincere in your passions, you've only yourself to blame. Making yourself ridiculous with so many lady loves. I don't blame her at all for not wishing to be part of a queue."
Orion felt a white hot flash of anger. "If she'd have taken me seriously when I first turned of age-"
"But she didn't-"
"I wouldn't have needed to go elsewhere."
His family looked less than convinced. Lucretia looked up from her section of the newspaper and raised an eyebrow.
Orion struggled to explain, "I had to try. To see if I might forge a connection with someone else."
"Well, when you make connections of those kind, you invite women like Walburga to make judgments on the sort of man you are," Melania concluded.
"The sort with skill?" He countered nastily.
"Orion!" Arcturus hissed, for his being so inappropriate.
"The sort that strays after the altar," Melania returned coolly.
He flushed with anger at that vile assumption..
He would be a very faithful husband! Why, if his affections were returned by the object of his passions, the scope of his needs and attentions would narrow to a razor's edge. It would be a joy for his wants not to be divided among women. If only the one he wanted would make answer! Then he could look forward to demonstrating his devotion and then having his appetites wholly satisfied...provided he met hers first of course. He was a gentleman.
He tried not to think about her reading from that book. Long ago, he'd resigned himself to the reality that she'd likely be as reserved as she was unpracticed in such matters. She was so easily shocked by the risque. That he knew he'd have to be very slow and patient and understanding of her delicacy while encouraging enthusiasm on that aspect of marriage. And that she might defer such intimate gestures until later on.
And he was prepared to suffer.
But now, knowing there were hints of saucy boldness beneath that composure…
Willing to dare and shock and take risk...
There could well be a strong current of passion beneath that air of restraint.
If he could but work it free, the two of them could at last—
"I think I've found it!" Lucretia announced.
Horror flooded him and he choked on despair.
"That's the sports section," Arcturus murmured in puzzlement.
"It's the only thing I can make out that lines up with what she told us."
Melania leaned over and wrinkled her nose as she read out, "A Dueling Tournament?"
"There are matches all day," Lucretia explained. "So she could be one of those matches. The ones before noon."
Orion seethed. "If it's so, then this is without a doubt, the stupidest, most dangerous, psychotic, unnecessary, reckless stunt she's ever pulled!"
"I wouldn't start with that," Arcturus advised as they pushed through the crowd.
Orion glared.
"This is called wisdom, Son. Hardbought wisdom from thirty-five years of marriage. Do NOT begin with that. No matter how true."
"Wizards die in this tournament. Last year we saw several amputations! That fellow from Yorkshire only just woke up from his coma!"
Did there have to be so many people? His nose wrinkled as wizards dressed in cheap manufactured muggle clothing brushed past him.
There were several wizards who appeared to be drunk despite it not being past noon. There were witches with blouses cut so low a sneeze might expose them, and magic folk of such poor dental hygiene that their loathsome habits were obvious.
He spotted a witch trying to encourage a crying baby to nurse while her five year old whinged and clung to her skirts and there were children from toddler to teenhood running amok trying to get a better view of the field's great dueling ring which was divided into multiple smaller sections for the opening bouts.
"The unwashed masses," Arcturus sneered in disdain.
It was because the tournament wouldn't charge admission until the final few rounds of the competition. This was why Orion usually didn't attend the earlier bouts, knowing they would be accompanied with riffraff.
They found the entrance to the duelists' tent, but weren't allowed past a certain point—it was a fenced in area with a tunnel on the side that led to the ring, but Orion was sure he could climb over easily if he must.
"Sorry gents," a robust bouncer barked. "Only duelists beyond this point. Got to check themselves in. But you lot will get to see them pass through here again before they get to the ring."
"There's someone we must speak with, a contestant. Walburga Black."
"Can't leave my post, but if she's entered in this, like you say and she's scheduled, you'll see her shortly. The next round is about to begin."
Arcturus frowned, "How can you be certain?"
"You said 'she' and we ain't had a single woman pass through to compete yet."
They watched wizards pass by at 10 AM to hold matches at designated spots in the field.
At 11:15 AM, he saw her. It was such a sweet relief that he felt his anger begin cooling.
He eyed the Edwardian bustle of her skirt, the high necked blouse that was ruffled at the neck and cuffs, her striped vest of dark green and silver, capelet, and there accentuating her waist and hips was a silver sash with her competitor button pinned to it.
Beautiful.
She'd always been beautiful.
She opened her parasol and spun it lazily—a sign she was bored...but even bored...she looked beautiful.
It was probably for the best that her hair was pinned up and half hidden by her hat.
There was something bewitching about her hair; long, lustrous, thick, and alluring.
When he was young, she'd let him brush it and he'd run his hands over and through it.
It never lost its novelty.
He'd twist the glossy strands around his fingers or braid them and twine flowers in the plaits.
It was one afternoon not long after his seventh birthday and he was feeling pleased about that because it officially meant that until August, he and his cousin were only three years apart.
He could use that to insist he was old enough for the scary stories and secrets she shared so freely with Malfoy. She seemed to think hearing about gargoyles would frighten him into nightmares because he was soooo young.
It was annoying. She always rounded up the gap to four years...but it was really three and half. Less than a half actually. And considering he was tall for his age and she was short, he was sure that by the time he got to be at Hogwarts with her, he'd be passing her by pretty fast.
He'd been lying on the grass in his backyard daydreaming and staring at the blue sky. He was just entering a doze when she knelt down near his head and leaned over.
He hadn't been expecting her or her waterfall of hair to frame him—making it seem like she was the only thing in the world as he glimpsed her through his lashes.
She grinned down at him and then traced her lips as if applying lipstick, melodramatically narrating that she wore Wiggenweld and had come to waken the sleeping prince. She bent forward and brushed an innocent, childish kiss on his lips and bid him rise.
She grinned again, revealing once more that the gaps of her smile were slowly being filled in by adult teeth and she giggled.
And he knew he loved her.
Orion blinked as a middle aged official approached her and gestured to what she was wearing and carrying.
He pointed to a wall lined with storage crates designated for holding duelists' effects.
Walburga held her purse a little tighter and raised a hand to her hat.
She'd probably been advised to remove it.
She frowned.
He needed to find a way to gain her attention and persuade her to leave with him. This was no place for her. And she was dressed far too finely for so coarse a sport as this.
She could be an object for pickpockets or—
"Ooh," a young rough voice behind him appraised,"Who's the bit in the skirt?"
Or worse...
His friend laughed, "We had a saying back in my school days, the triple f."
Both men snickered, "A fine filly I'd like to-"
"To what, m'love?" A woman, who could only be his significant other, demanded.
"-c-curry favor with," he finished weakly.
"Nice save," she sneered.
Orion clenched his fists.
"Son, not the place," his father warned. "We're vastly outnumbered. And she's safer beyond this fence."
He released a shuddering breath. It was yet more proof, she shouldn't compete. Shouldn't be here in any capacity, exposed to this. It wasn't safe. No aspect of it was safe.
A third man, older than the others joined his rough companions. "I see you don't recognize her, she was an upperclassman though so-"
"Don't recognize who?" yet another man, who Orion recognized as Knowley, asked and then looked on Walburga and cried, "Dear God, hit the deck! Captain Battle Ax has come out of the woodwork!"
"What?"
"Wot?"
Knowley snickered, "Abraxas called her our pet Amazon. Only girl on the Slytherin Dueling Team."
It was then that Abraxas Malfoy himself sauntered out of the duelist tent and approached Walburga and the official.
Despise wasn't a strong enough word for the loathing he felt at that man.
From the time he'd entered their lives, he'd been a hateful distraction and he took a special interest in coming between them.
On noticing Malfoy, Walburga promptly shoved her handbag, parasol, capelet, and hat into his hold while she followed the official.
It was customary for duelists to ring the ceremonial gong before heading in for their match—to signify strength, initiative, fraternity.
Walburga looked reluctant and tried to give it a soft rap with her knuckles.
Orion sighed. Walburga, he thought, did you ever even watch any of these tournaments before signing up for this one?
The official shook his head and gestured to the steel mace stationed on a great slab of quartz.
"Aww poor bird-"
"You see? See? They're just not cut out for-"
"Don't know what they were thinking, letting her in-"
"Making a mockery of the spor-"
She and the official became increasingly irritated with one another to the point that she grabbed the mace, the official had to duck out of the way, and she hit the gong hard enough to dent it.
She then expertly spun it in her hand and offered it to a duelist behind her.
And the twitters of the crowd stopped.
Arcturus chuckled, "You know? Alphard had said something about her having weapon's training but I assumed it was something a little less..."
"Barbaric?" Orion mumbled.
"Abraxas, darling!"
Orion stared as Obsidia Malfoy appeared near his elbow. Heaven spare them from ladies who risked themselves! And she had young Master Malfoy in tow! And the toddler looked especially put out.
Abraxas' eyes widened and he came over to the gate, "What on earth are you, this is no place-"
"Lucius and I-"
"Return home-"
"How strangely bedecked you are," she observed.
He looked at his laden down arms and gave an exasperated smiled, "I know, Abraxas Malfoy. Celebrated School Governor. Accomplished warlock. Last year's champion. This year's glorified hat rack."
"Well, we all have our place in this world," Walburga declared, having followed him over. "Or so I'm told."
"Walburga," Obsidia greeted with an unflinching smile. "How good to see you after that...ball? How terrible it was."
Walburga's face faltered a bit but she recovered, "Obsidia, dear. I hope you don't mind my making use of him. I can't believe they don't employ a Gringotts Goblin to watch our things. Seems unprofessional. I ought to write someone."
"Well, men don't typically haul half their boudoir with them," Abraxas scoffed. He lifted the purse and made a strained expression, "Here's the real weapon. Truly, you should use a weight lightening charm."
Walburga's lips puckered with irritation, "I have."
He laughed. "Well, thank goodness for your opponent you're only allowed your wand. One good strike from this-"
"I can take her effects," Orion volunteered.
"Orion?" Walburga breathed. "Oh you clever man, you found me out and so quick!" She looked over at Arcturus with more surprise. "You've come to support me, also?"
Father and son shared a glance and Orion's face twitched but he nodded and his father followed his lead on how enthusiastic they ought to be.
They'd never scold her in a place like this but...they could make displeasure known in their looks and actions.
Both wore smiles and calmly accepted Malfoy passing her things to them.
Though it meant enduring a patronizing, "Mr. Black, good to see you, sir" and "Oh, it's young Orion, I wondered if you'd show. If I recall, you never were terribly fond of watching the dueling team's matches."
Watching people hex and curse his Walburga, sometimes bodily hurling her across a room…
Why no...no he wasn't "terribly fond" of witnessing that.
"Walburga, I'd remove the earrings," Abraxas advised. "Last year, there was a man with facial piercings...it didn't end well for him."
Walburga pouted but did as bade.
Orion was surprised as he cupped his hand to accept them that they were the earrings he'd bought her this year for her birthday: black pearls.
"It's a shame," she sighed. "I've found them lucky."
Orion felt warmth spread through him at that. Even if it was more than a little pathetic.
She gripped the bars, "Do wish me luck, since I can't wear them."
He took one of her pale pretty hands and kissed the knuckles, "Always."
She gave him a playful pat on the cheek that turned into a short caress to his chin, dismissed him as a flirt, and flounced away.
His skin tingled, while his ego ached.
But he wasn't the only one having troubles.
"Abraxas, dear. Your match is an hour off yet, isn't that so? Why not enjoy the festivities with me and our son?"
"Ice blossom, I told you. The later rounds will be more...suitable for you and the child. And Black doesn't know where to wait for her match. She has no sense of direction. I can't trust her. She's hopeless. I've never told you but in our first year, she disembarked the train and missed the way to the boats altogether-"
"Oh yes, twenty steps on my own. However will I manage? I feel so disoriented, already. So frightened so-wait! There are arrows, I daresay I'm saved," Walburga sneered. "Oh look, there are signs, too. How fortuitous that I can read! My father had me instructed in the art. Radical, I know."
Abraxas rolled his eyes and called back, "There are ruffians in there also. And you will be in close quarters and-"
"Duelists scheduled for half-past eleven? Please assemble," a magically enhanced voice announced. "Mr. Amon, Mr. Avery, Mr. Batton, Mr. Beed, Ms. Black, Mr. Blue-"
"Ms?" Malfoy chuckled. "Ms? You're going by Ms. now?" Malfoy called after her, his ice blue eyes watching her until she was out of sight.
Walburga glared, held her head high, and turned on her heel. Snickering, Malfoy caught up with her and both disappeared from view in the tunnel.
Arcturus gave a slow nod and murmured low enough so only Orion could hear. "Alright. I'm in agreement. It's a most dangerous and reckless stunt unfolding here. Let us hope she goes out in the first round."
Orion felt torn at that because while he very much wanted her out of the tournament he didn't want her pride injured. It would be better if she simply withdrew.
Arcturus rested an arm around Orion's shoulders. "If I had to choose a scandal for her, better it's you."
There'd already been three matches and the sweepers were currently clearing up a puddle of blood.
Considering his own ordeal, it made him more than discomforted to see blood so soon. Considering Walburga could suffer such a thing in the next few minutes, he felt weak-kneed and sick to his stomach.
"So terribly sorry about that ball," Obsidia replied. "Simply awful."
Orion nodded, only half-listening, "Yes, yes. Terrible thing. Better now. Here for Walburga."
Her expression warmed as she bounced Lucius on her hip. "You have great attachment to each other then? I was much impressed with how she tended you. She didn't flinch one bit. And in all that gore. It was almost romantic, I think."
That caught his attention and he raised an eyebrow but her cheeks remained marble white.
"Horrible," she agreed. "But romantic."
Even though he knew she was maneuvering him with such talk to have him act as a wall to separate Malfoy and Walburga, it sent a thrill of pleasure through him nonetheless.
To think of Walburga's devotion…
The way she immediately came to him…and no, she hadn't faltered through any of it. He knew she was loyal to him. Fond of him. Appreciated him. Enjoyed his company. All that was needed was a desire that was less cerebral and more physical, and they'd be setting the date.
Obsidia adjusted her hold on a squirming Lucius and smiled tightly.
Well, if Mrs. Malfoy wanted him to stamp out any spark between her husband and Walburga, he was only too happy to oblige.
"Her turn," Arcturus pointed out.
His stomach flopped and he tried not to lock his knees.
"Steady," his father muttered.
Her opponent was an arse.
When the announcer was introducing them and asked if Mr. Colt was concerned about facing Walburga, Colt remarked, "I beg understanding from my opponent, since she cannot be persuaded to withdraw for her own good sake. For alas, my great respect of this fine sport will not afford me to exercise restraint...even when faced opposite against the fairer sex."
It made it sound like he wanted to do violence to her. Orion's teeth gritted.
Walburga was less moved by far and she clapped politely.
The announcer and Mr. Colt were taken aback. "I see you clapping, Ms. Black. Can it be that you agree? Do you not fear-"
She pulled the announcer's wand to amplify her voice. "Oh, I completely agree with Mr. Colt."
The announcer blinked a little surprised and the audience seemed uncertain as what to make of it until—
"I, too, show no restraint when I'm facing the gentler sex." She grinned maliciously at her opponent.
The crowd made a low "Ohhoho" sound of mean amusement and applause broke out.
Arcturus sighed from his spot beside Orion and then chuckled. "I suppose we ought to have prepared ourselves for that."
The announcer moved out of the ring, "Duelists bow. Duelists take your respective sides. Wands at the reeeeady! Begin!"
"Expelliarmus!" she bellowed.
Mr. Colt's wand flew into her grasp.
Orion exhaled almost giddy with relief as they left the tournament area.
"How anticlimactic," Walburga pouted, pulling her arm guards off and setting her wand safely up her sleeve.
He helped her into her capelet, handed her the purse and parasol, and hooked arms to escort her away.
"It was awfully boring, wasn't it?" she asked Arcturus. "I do hope the next round promises more excitement."
"Walburga…" Orion replied, voice strained.
Then she stopped and looked over her shoulder, "I wonder...perhaps I ought to stay and watch Malfoy's match. He did do me the courtesy of-"
"He will receive praise enough from his wife," Arcturus assured.
"Yes, I imagine you're right. And he really only watched my match because it was convenient rather than because he meant to do so deliberately. I feel satisfied and can now leave him behind without fear that I've-"
"You are aware, my dear, that the family will need to discuss all this?" Arcturus addressed. "This day could've gone very differently should a more lethal partner been assigned to you."
Walburga frowned.
Two hours later found Orion at home pacing the dining room, casting glances at an irate Walburga, who sat at the table, arms crossed, spine rigidly upright, eyes glinting with fury.
While several uncles, cousins, and Walburga's own brothers, had arrived to make their concerns known.
Pollux did not come.
And they really could've used his presence.
It wasn't Orion's father's place to lecture her as a daughter.
"As a woman…" Arcturus looked greatly uncomfortable, "there are dangers present for you...outside of the ring...that are...considerably less for men. And even in the ring, there are injuries you could endure that could do harm to your possibilities of...er...to your potential...er..."
"Progeny," Melania finished.
"You didn't seem so adverse to my competing when-"
"We would never do you the dishonor of seeming unsupportive in so public a place!" Arcturus thundered—offended at the possibility.
Orion was aghast. How dare she even insinuate such! Like she'd have preferred the quarrel!?
It was worse because Orion knew well how much his parents liked her and were willing to support his efforts to win her hand. And how they owed her his life. The healers had told them as much. She'd managed to delay the blood loss long enough for him to get proper aid.
"You can't compete," Cygnus scowled. "It's madness. Father would never allow it."
Walburga's eyes flashed. "This isn't about any of you and let Father try and stop me." She glared all around the room. "Let any of you try. I'm no child. Let alone a weakling. The tournament recognizes me as an eligible competitor."
Alphard removed his glasses to clean them and sighed, "Walburga...please...don't do this."
"And why not?"
"Consider all you have to risk!" Orion interjected desperately.
God, if she died. If she died…
He'd go mad. He knew it.
"To risk?" she rounded on him. "I'm not a wife with a husband to think of. Or children. And even if I were, husbands "risk" themselves without such censure. I'm not married! I'm free to do as I will. Femme sole!"
It was too close….
To the source of his pain. To the knot of her ignorance or obliviousness that he couldn't unravel. To the torment that had gnawed at him day and night since he was seventeen and the threat of Abraxas Malfoy was supposed to be put at rest or so he thought and he hoped all would finally resolve itself and yet didn't because he just couldn't manage to get her to—
Orion lost all of his patience and charged over. "If that's what this is all about then marry me you crazy woman! And be done with this dangerous foolery!"
"Don't mock me! It's more! It's about me getting to be something besides Walburga the daughter or the sister or the wife or the woman! I'M WALBURGA THE DUELIST! My magic doesn't care what form I have!"
With a CRACK she disapparated.
God, how he hated when she did that.
He stood there and fumed.
"Consider yourself lucky," Cygnus shrugged, breaking the silence and lighting up a cigarette. "She could've held you to that."
Orion turned to him and snarled.
Both brothers stared at him, then at each other, then back at him—looking simultaneously fascinated and repulsed.
"Walburga? Are you mad?"
"W-walburga? Are you desperate?"
Yes. To both.
"Well, at least we know you have the nerve to say it," Arcturus shrugged. "That's half the battle won. Now, we simply work on the delivery of the proposal."
Orion's shoulders sagged as he looked at him for guidance.
"She didn't think it was earnest," Melania sniffed. "Just I cautioned, she didn't think you-"
"Therefore, the question wasn't received. And if wasn't received, then it wasn't a 'No,'" Arcturus argued, making eye contact with Orion and giving him hope. "It wasn't a 'No,' Son."
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