Touched Your Lips

by Ydream08

Chapter 22

It was hard to breathe. He felt thirsty. There was an ache all over his body. With the unbelievable heaviness of his eyelids that refused to open, the blackness swallowed him into a thick panic.

What had happened? Where was he?

He could hear indistinct voices.

Orion was desperate to hold onto that clue yet his body betrayed him as he was forced into another slumber.

He was afraid to move, hesitant that his limbs would comply. It was an absurd feeling; like an appendage would snap if he moved. Could he spare a leg or an arm?

His chest weighed as if an ox sat on it, so perhaps his main concern shouldn't be losing a limb.

Orion let his mind wander as the realization that he was hurt sunk in. Merlin, was it a miracle that he was alive?

Breathing out slowly, Orion concentrated on moving his hands. One or two fingers he could overlook if they indeed came off. They moved; and wiggling them further, Orion deduced that they remained attached...for now.

"He is awake! Godric, he is awake! Oh my God, thank you, thank you, thank you!"

It was the first time he registered what was being said. Odd, he somehow thought. Why would he hear the name of Godric Gryffindor…

However, Orion's thoughts lingered more on how the voice was so beautiful. Melodic. Loving.

"I thought…" The owner hiccupped. Orion decided it was a she. And he knew she was devastated and elated at the same time. It was hard to come up with whom she was.

"It's okay. You are okay. Everything will be fine."

There was something cold and sweaty over his hand. A soft pressure. Perhaps a touch? Did she hold his hand? It was welcome.

Orion wondered why she was cold. That was his last thought before he was sucked into darkness again.

He watched.

It was blurry and his eyes could not remain open for too long, but he watched as the young woman fussed around him. She checked a few tubes attached to his arm, cast unfamiliar charms that would display different colours, and went over some papers while she was mouthing the words.

Orion knew it was Hermione before his vision cleared, yet it took him some time to add up everything.

Her voluptuous hair had frizzed, and the only reason it didn't look like a complete mess was that she had collected it into a bun. Her skin was ashen, the reason Orion believed the bags under her eyes looked far more grave. Her dainty hands were restless, always busy with either a wand or a pen. Occasionally, she wiped her face and looked at the ceiling; praying to whoever was there, Orion fleetingly thought.

She was not a visitor, he had realised because this place did not look to be a room in St Mungo's. There were no cream wallpapers and the lack of furniture was glaring. It was a four-poster bed that he laid in. Its lines were soft like silk and quilt heavy and ornate as the ones in his childhood. Then, the ceiling that Hermione often looked up at was carved in a pattern to reach a chandelier that a hospital could not afford to put up for every room. Wardrobes, a full-length mirror and commodes... all pieces that belonged in Manors of wealthy families.

When his eyes finally came to rest on Hermione again, it occurred to him that the witch was a Healer. She acted like a Healer now.

"What happened?" Orion rasped, unable to discern a coherent idea of what had actually transpired. He could understand he was hurt and Hermione was decidedly his Healer, but he drew a blank after that; maybe, because of the surfacing headache at the thought.

Her brown eyes immediately found his, and Orion knew there were no words to describe the shine of happiness and contentedness in them.

"Hi," she replied instead with a smile worth endless galleons.

She was lovely beyond comprehension. Her expressive eyes, that cute nose and those quivering lips… Orion counted the naevi on her skin: one on the cheek, another near her left eyebrow and two on her neck. His eyes returned to her parted lips, and he noted her slightly larger front teeth. A small smile tugged at his lips because this was his Hermione; the woman he loved.

"Hi," Orion replied and thanked Salazar for her warm hand over his. She wore a jumper now. "Will you tell me what happened?"

Orion didn't expect her eyes to well up that easily. Colour returned to her face in a heartbeat, and her cheeks and nose were flushed as her eyes shone with unmistakable tears.

"Alright… umm… Do you remember that we were at Genova over the weekend?" Orion nodded. "We were meant to take a Portkey home. It turns out the Portkey had been meddled with; we fell into a trap. Two wizards were onto us. A spell collided with you before I could put up a shield. I… I managed to bring us to safety."

Orion tried to imagine what Hermione told him. He remembered their weekend. Lovely three days; too short if he were honest. Then, the memory of their last dinner together returned to him as well. Orion had finally breached the subject of his son to Hermione. They had talked about Sirius' unusual letter and Walburga's recent antics. Everything after that became fuzzy as Orion tried to think about it… yet, he recalled vividly that there was a purple spell coming over.

It would have hit Hermione, Orion suddenly remembered.

He had saved her, but the spell had done him no good.

Why had they been attacked in the first place? What had happened to their attackers? Why wasn't he in St. Mungo's?

As the questions proliferated and clung to his skin like drenched clothes, Orion decided that he had remembered enough of what had happened for now. Concentrating on something else would surely brush off this ominous feeling.

"Where are we?"

Somehow Orion knew before she replied.

"We are at Malfoy Manor. Do not worry, only Abraxas and Lucius know of your situation."

Orion would have said that was unsavoury, but he was exhausted already. He wanted to feel the sweet rest take him slowly back into a nice sleep.

"There is one thing…" Hermione was saying but Orion could no longer focus on her. He was welcomed by silent dreams this time.

When he woke up, Abraxas Malfoy sat by his side. Orion had been unsure he was seeing alright, but the man cocked an eyebrow which Orion conceded to be very realistic.

"Awake at last," the man murmured. He held a book in his hand, legs crossed as he read it silently.

"Why?" Orion said, his voice sounded normal dare he say. "Has your poison not worked already? Don't tell me you failed to get rid of me in my sleep. I thought you wanted me out of Hermione's hair."

Orion's dry tone earned him a smirk.

"Well, I can't risk expelling you from her life as obsessed as she seems to be with you. I finally convinced her to get some proper sleep for the first time in six days."

Six days?

"What?"

"Yeah, the girl is stubborn. I convinced her to shower only by the end of the third day, not to mention this chamber has a bathroom attached. She would not step away from you even for a second."

The affection that swelled in Orion's chest momentarily chased away the shock that six bloody days had passed since his injury.

Yet, the urgency of his thoughts surfaced. What had happened to his business? Orion knew there would be no harmful consequence for his absence in this week's schedule, then again there was a difference between voluntary absence and sudden disappearance.

"I should have returned to work early on Monday."

"Do not worry, we notified your secretary, Mrs Macmillan, about your absence on loose terms," Malfoy said. "You are welcome in my Manor as long as Hermione so wishes."

"What did you tell Murial, I mean my secretary?"

"The usual… Working on a new project abroad, don't want to be contacted for some time unless you owl them etc."

Orion nodded, accepting that there was nothing to stress about at the moment. "Thank you."

At that Malfoy looked up at him. There was a pause, but he nodded eventually.

Some time passed while the silence was filled with Malfoy's hum. He seemed cheery being in Orion's presence. As the minutes ticked by, it irritated Orion more and more.

The man was humming while he was hurt, for Salazar's sake—

Orion halted at that thought. Thinking about the founder of Hogwarts tickled something at the edge of his memory, something odd…

It didn't dawn on him until the following day when Hermione knocked on the door and came to change places with Abraxas.

She wore a thick knitted red jumper and jeans underneath. Her hair was free, golden streaks of her curls shining and bouncing as she sat next to him with a smile. The spark in her eyes was unmistakable.

It was these colours that made Orion remember. Red. Crimson. Gold. The colours of the house of Godric Gryffindor. His son, Sirius' colours. An image of his son in his Gryffindor shirts, jumpers and scarf came to his mind.

With the spark in Hermione's eyes, Orion saw the air of resemblance to Sirius, too.

If Orion were to sort Hermione into a house, there was no mistake where she would end up.

Yet, she had grown up in France. Attended Beauxbatons. She had never been to Hogwarts.

Orion tried to recall the last time Hermione had talked about her family. Her childhood. Her years at school.

All he came up with were her admiration to Hogwarts, its curriculum (she was well-versed in that topic) and the castle itself.

Out of nowhere, he recalled her shouting a name during her orgasm. His name in more abundance, of course, was mixed in the mantra, yet, Orion was dumbstruck to have ignored how frequently Hermione exclaimed, 'Godric'.

The seed of suspicion was planted in his mind and heart, and Orion had to admit, the one in his heart hurt a hell of a lot more than the scorching pain over his abdomen.

"I know you are basically a workaholic, but do you have to be so obvious about it?" Hermione wondered out loud. "I counted the number of times you winced -49- while replying to those owls. Thirteen letters. And it is only a quarter past eleven."

"They need me; I need them to be able to feel a sense of normality," Orion replied.

Three days had passed since Hermione switched with Abraxas, during which Orion had gotten significantly better. She now regularly switched places with the Malfoys. It was annoying at first to learn that Narcissa Malfoy, too, apparently knew of Orion's situation as the witch also took Hermione's place in her absence. However, Orion had to admit, it showed his niece had indeed become a part of the family; of the Malfoys, really.

oOOo

"There is something… off about her, Uncle." Narcissa showed more interest in her nails then checking on him, but Orion knew the girl saved her observation for when he was not looking. "It might not be my place to tell whom you take as your… significant other, but considering your situation, I believe we can both show each other some leniency."

That meant Narcissa would expose Hermione as his mistress if risking his wrath suited her. For now, all Narcissa seemed to wish for was to speak her mind unfiltered. As long as she was respectful (like now), Orion found he would abide by his niece's terms.

"I believe that Miss Dagworth-Granger might not be who she says, at least not entirely. It is unfitting of her to have such a perfect London accent, for example. I never hear her speak French or compare her people to ours… not even about etiquette differences. In fact, I have never met a French woman like her," Narcissa declared as if she was mentioning the weather. "That doesn't mean she isn't a lovely woman, of course! She is annoyingly kind and naive…"

His niece must have felt his piercing gaze on her as she fidgeted and cleared her throat.

"She hasn't left your side and all she talks about is you, so there is that." Narcissa smiled at him.

Orion returned her smile, his was more playful (thanks to all those pain medications Hermione gave him).

"Anything else you want to talk about now that you have me helplessly bound to the bed?"

Oh, Orion nearly missed the predatory look on his niece's face. She used to have that same plotting face as a child whenever the girl was set to steal a chocolate cake from her mother's guest table.

The look was chased away with a pretty smile far too quickly. "I should not tire you now, Uncle. Family first, right?"

oOOo

"It is a Monday," Orion added when he was finally brought back to here and now. "It is surprising that there are only thirteen letters, to begin with."

There was a distant screech of an owl. Orion raised his head to see the zooming figure of the flying animal through the window.

"I'll get it," Hermione said. She walked to open the window and the owl swooped past her to land by Orion's bed.

Orion received the letter as Hermione brought treats to the owl.

"Like I said," Orion showed the letter that was stamped with his hotel's logo. "Thirteen is way less than usual."

The owl made haste with its treats eaten.

"Fine, Mister. Forget I said anything," Hermione replied exasperated and playful at the same time.

When she passed him, Orion reached out with his left arm to take her hand to pull her to sit on his bed.

"I don't forget anything you ever say," Orion whispered and despite the meaning behind his words, he let himself close in on her.

Hermione's breath hitched, her arms coming around to secure him in her embrace.

He reached for her lips unsure if it was a good idea. His doubts relentlessly seeped through the cracks of his heart to poison his affection toward the witch, yet her touch chased away the darkness that clung to him. He might simply be tricking himself into thinking she was everything good in his life.

Considering she was a person full of secrets, all her touches, kisses and her bliss over pleasure could be deceitful.

Yet nothing explained the flutter in his chest when their lips met. Nothing explained the heat that burned him from head to toe when she moaned against him. Nothing explained the euphoria that cleansed him as their lips moved.

Nothing could explain her smile, because Orion knew Hermione's heart would never let a false smile grace those beautiful lips.

It wasn't his inner turmoil (as silenced as it was now) that disrupted their intimacy. Orion had moved his hand to trace across her back, and the slight raise of his arm and the following twist of his upper body caused an intense pain to strike him like a stunning spell.

"Orion!" Hermione cried.

Orion gritted his teeth and focused on breathing evenly, but he was doing a poor job of it as pain jolted his body and stars seemed to swirl behind his eyes.

"Oh my God, you are bleeding…We should… Let me… Hold still."

His hand over his side was gently removed and Hermione held him firmly as she incanted a spell. Next, there was a hiss much like water on a hot pan that pulled a loud groan from him.

Now panting, Orion could only mutter, "Hermione… it hurts…"

There was the smell of burning meat, and that was the only thing Orion remembered before magic enveloped him as if he had dived into the coldest of seas.

Orion had yet to see the extent of his injury. It was mostly around his right side he knew, but the bandages covered the circumference of his lower abdomen. He never looked down when Hermione declared it was time to change his bandages. He focused on the ceiling. He focused on the touch of Hermione's fingers as they left a tingling trail over his skin.

"Orion, we must talk about your injury," Hermione said that Wednesday. Two days ago when his injury had bled, the panic of the witch was unmistakable. It was not surprising considering how he had passed out.

"Alright."

It was hard to prepare for whatever was to come. The few times he had pried about those two wizards that had attacked them, everyone had brushed him off and told him to concentrate on getting better. So, it was not like he knew anything about his attackers, why they were attacked in the first place, or whether they had intended to kill them.

"Start with what happened, then?"

"One of the wizards who attacked us… he struck you with a powerful curse, a rare one. I contained it but it will scar when it finally… well… it is easier to show you."

The bandages effortlessly came loose for Hermione, but Orion felt every millimetre of his skin that almost came off with it. He only allowed a slight scowl, though. When Hermione looked up at where she was kneeling in front of him, Orion forced himself to smile which only made him realize he had clenched his jaw too tight.

"It's alright. Take a look," Hermione whispered and took his left hand that held onto his knee. Orion entwined their fingers but regardless of that, he was unsure whether he was ready to see it.

Orion never had any problems with scars. In the magical world, it was a miracle to be left with one, anyway. In his childhood, there was only one incidence that he could give as an example and that was when he had bumped his knee into the sharp corner of a table. Guests were on the way and the last thing Orion wanted as a boy of eight years, was to ruin his father's dinner party. He recalled lots of blood that he had cleaned up with tissues and immediately pulling the carpet over to hide it; then he had rushed to his room to change his outfit. When a house-elf had accompanied him to his bath later that night, Orion had begged it to remain a secret. Unfortunately, the elf had not been very skilled in healing it, so yes, there was a white circular scar Orion now carried on his right knee.

At Hogwarts, not a single accident had left a scar until year six, because Madame Russels was a witch fabulous at her job. Evan Rosier, with his Quidditch injuries, had survived Hogwarts years without becoming a cripple, so that was more proof of Madame Russels' skills. As a student not being into Quidditch that much, Orion would have survived his school years scratch-free, yet he was not that lucky.

In his sixth year, Orion had been out of bed after curfew. He had been with a girl from Hufflepuff—her name no longer came to his mind. It would have been the night he finally reached manhood if it were not for the slight detail that they had nearly gotten caught. Running away, they had hidden in a random classroom, but Orion had tripped when he had turned around too quickly after closing the door. On the ground there had been shards, from a broken window or glass or a frame. Who could remember that far back? It had cut his left palm. The Hufflepuff girl had wrapped the wound in a handkerchief, but it was a rather deep cut that had bled heavily. The fact that they had to remain in hiding, had meant Orion had to press the handkerchief to his palm and wait with the girl for the corridors to become safe again. Afterwards, both of them had returned to their dormitories. There had not been a chance to visit Madame Russels the following morning without revealing his indiscretions. So, Orion had decided it should be fine. When he had awoken, it had no longer bled anyway.

Since then, Orion had never acquired another scar. St Mungo's was an Apparition away and he was no longer a boy or a reckless teenager. As a man, he had led a risk-free life both in his private and business life.

So yes, Orion felt better after recalling those two incidents from decades ago. He knew what a scar meant and doubted he would be very disturbed to see his condition now. However, those two incidents could have never prepared him for the sight when he looked down, lifting his right arm to see the extent of his injury.

"Merlin and Morgana," he gasped.

His skin was purplish-black and swollen, the edges of the wound ragged and senseless, and he could swear there were thin lines of red liquid leaking from here and there. Moreover, Orion noticed a purple light (or was it violet?) that skipped around his wound. It immediately triggered images of the spell that had hit him, and Orion wondered if it was some kind of remnant of the curse.

Forgetting the extent of his injuries, he dropped his right arm but the moment the inner skin of his upper arm touched the wound (because it reached under his right armpit like a summit) Orion saw white.

Hissing, Orion cursed and looked away.

"Hey, hey, it's okay… There is nothing—"

Hermione froze when Orion snapped his head to look at her. How dare she say it was nothing!

"Tell me exactly what happened," he spat. Orion could no longer be placated with excuses.

"The curse would have killed you," Hermione said. She swallowed and blinked a few times. A few tears escaped, but she wiped them and continued to hold his venomous gaze. "I contained it, but I could only trap it inside your body. And… the spell I used can be called experimental at best.

Orion, have you seen the pinkish-purple light around your scar? Did you notice it moved?" Orion nodded along which seemed all he was capable of doing. "My magic bound the curse in your body and that's what remains now. It damages your skin minimally… at least as long as my magic contains it.

I think two days ago the curse flared. It must have broken free of my control momentarily—I mean, I can't dismiss the possibility that it was because of me, but it could also be about the nature of the curse or something to do with the caster. I will do research, of course. In the meantime, we have to look after you here until it is not a risk for you to be away from a Healer. If something happens… anything goes wrong… the curse could burn you from the inside out."

Orion did not know what to say. Being dependent on a Healer, on someone's magic did not sound like a safe bet. He hadn't thought his condition to be so serious. He had been expecting to see a white scar or even a slightly pinkish healed one. Yet, he seemed to have forgotten how he had bled two days ago.

Still, this was… gruesome.

"Orion," Hermione whispered. Her face looked stricken with pain. "You are hurting me."

Orion did not immediately understand what she was saying.

"My hand," she elaborated.

Looking down at their entwined hands, Orion realized he had been crushing her fingers.

He let go immediately.

"Who were they?" Orion pressed out. He had to learn more about this. Who had attacked them? Who had injured him so badly?

Hermione shook her head but didn't meet his eyes. "I don't know."

Orion froze. Regardless of his pain and shock, one feeling dominated his heart at the moment: Betrayal. Because he knew she was lying. Orion didn't know how exactly, but he just knew… Just like how he knew Hermione lied about who she was.

After his niece revealed her suspicions to him… coupled with his own clues, Orion could not shake the feeling that Hermione Dagworth-Granger kept secrets. Big secrets. Crucial truths about who she bloody was.

Moreover, even if the woman was a Muggleborn sympathizer and adversary of the Ministry, nothing could explain why she would become a target. As a pureblood witch of an esteemed House with known powerful associates like himself, the Malfoys and the Potters, there was no reason for her to be attacked, their portkey having been meddled with.

And yes, Orion was sure the wizards who had attacked them must be after Hermione just like Abraxas had warned him about. Orion himself was an upstanding citizen, and Evan's shady business partners never came even close to him. Orion had always been careful to keep a safe distance.

That left Hermione.

"You are—" Orion stopped himself before accusing her of lying. He knew she was, of course. But Orion valued what the two of them had, and he wanted to give her a chance to come clean.

Why did she not understand he would do anything for her? Salazar, he had already taken a lethal spell to the chest!

"Hermione, love, tell me all you know about them. The whole truth," he asked her, forcing himself to control his voice.

Orion caught the flicker of panic in her eyes but she conveniently dropped her gaze because of a sob. Orion did not want to believe Hermione was capable of lying so masterfully...

"Orion, I told you… I really do not know… I do not know who they were, why they came after us or even what in the world they wanted to achieve by attacking us…"

Orion had to take a deep breath. He wouldn't let go of this so easily…

He reached to wipe away her tears first, then sighed and murmured, "Here." He pulled Hermione closer to him while his hand came to rest on her cheek. He made her look him in the eyes. He winced at the thought of her knees probably hurting from staying on the ground for so long.

"You have always been strange but I chose to ignore it; thought it was charming, to be frank. I was mesmerised by you— your ideas, your laugh, even your small-talk; just everything. I cannot lose you, and now… we have been attacked… If there is anything I need to know, this is your chance. I'm not forgiving if I'm being wronged. As I said, I want the whole truth and I want to hear it from you."

Would this convince her? Orion did not know what he could do short of giving her Veritaserum or casting Legilimency on her. Either option was unsavoury and not within Orion's skillset. Especially, not for the woman he loved.

"Orion… I…" Hermione looked uncertain and he watched as her incredible mind restlessly worked to give him an answer. It hurt him to notice how beautiful her eyes were in that moment. How wonderfully her eyebrows framed them, or how her cute nose led to those alluring lips. Would Orion lose her? Just like that?

"What do you want me to say?" Hermione tried one last time.

Orion could not believe his ears. His heart turned to stone and his blood went cold as ice. Just like that indeed.

He pulled back and dropped his hand from her face, consequently making his right side burn when his arm made contact with his wound again—this time only enough to make Orion aware he was hurt.

"Why don't you start with who the fuck you really are?" Orion hissed reaching the end of his control. If she wanted to play dumb, he could reveal her oddities alright. If it was going to end, then he would end it his way.

"Why is a French witch talking in a British accent, hmm? Why is she constantly naming Godric Gryffindor whenever she is upset, scared or… with my cock jammed into her cunt to the hilt," he hissed that last part menacingly wanting her to feel just as hurt as he was feeling.

Orion harvested an immeasurable amount of satisfaction from seeing Hermione wince at his words. She should not have even attempted to lie to him as if he were a stranger on the street.

He continued to press her buttons. "Convenient, isn't it? For the same witch to be adopted; for her to trail her family to England? Convenient if her family turns out to be a pureblood House whose members are scattered around the world; not a single living relative here in the UK. Doesn't it sound like a made-up story to you, too?

Well, fine, say that that was a miracle… Then why does this random witch who has recently moved to the UK get fucking attacked by two murderers; who, by the way, seem to have connections in the Ministry because they obviously hijacked our Portkey. So, tell me, Miss Dagworth-Granger, how come you acquired enemies in a country unknown to you with your supposed family perfect and upstanding and, not to mention, away from any political or business conflict as it is."

Orion felt light-headed, both because he had wasted all his breath and had got everything off his chest but also because somewhere deeply buried for now, he felt guilty for causing the woman he loved pain.

He was confident he had won this game after calling her out like that. Until he realized that underneath Hermione's stern face, currently holding back every secret she owned close to her heart, her brain worked to counter every single damn question he had shot her way.

Orion hesitated because she might really pull off some bullshite explanation that was nowhere close to the truth but passable enough that he had no means to press her further on the subject.

Yet he knew he had already put their relationship on the table. If she continued with her lies, Orion had to…

He had to leave her behind.

"You won't believe me—"

"FUCKING HELL! Of course, I will fucking believe you!" Orion shouted. Merlin curse his injury that now hurt like hell. "I am desperate to believe you. Because Merlin help me, I can't live without you. I am ready to believe you, so don't you dare try to lie to me again."

Hermione suddenly kissed him, but Orion never remembered disliking those soft lips as he did now.

He pulled back and fixed her with a withering stare. "Now or never."

Hermione nodded fiercely. Although, she looked stricken that he had turned her down, she quickly reached to grab his hand. She seemed to need that connection.

"I told you you won't believe me… At least, I hope you'll forgive me... Here goes nothing…" She took a deep breath and met his eyes.

"My name is Hermione Granger and I was born on September 19th...1979."

"My name is Hermione Granger," she had uttered to Orion. It had been months since she had told anyone her real name. Back then, saying her name had been a foolish accident. Now, it had been the right decision.

Of course, coming to that decision had been tough. With the Malfoys, Hermione had no choice to disclose her secret as the two were onto her. She had been in a tight situation back then, too; nameless, penniless and scared for the consequences of her actions, namely reviving Abraxas Malfoy. She had changed history and it was her responsibility to change it for the better. She owed her friends that. She owed Harry that.

On the other hand, sharing her secret with Orion…

Logically speaking, Hermione knew there was no advantage of Orion knowing her origins. None at all. From all she knew about him, Hermione doubted he would help her navigate politics as Abraxas did. And honestly, that was the best he could do. The least would be to give his support publicly as the Head of House Black.

The catch was that Orion was actually unavailable to stand by her side openly. The nature of their relationship was not appropriate for that.

That was why she had not revealed anything immediately when Orion said he would not be forgiving if he was wronged. What would it matter for him to forgive her if he could not be the special person in her life?

Really, what future did they have?

Hermione would not dishonour him by saying his feelings were flimsy. On the contrary, their budding relationship had been exceptional and intense. Hermione knew there was something there that she could trust to go with… something so very promising…

The cruel fact was that Orion Black was married.

Another fact was that Hermione was a willing contributor to their immoral relationship. They were committing adultery, simple as that. Had she cared till now? Did she care now?

Of course, she did!

However, she had elected to never think about it.

...Until Orion pressed her to come clean with him.

It was funny for a moment when he threatened her with ending their relationship: If she hadn't said anything, he would have left her.

Had he ever been hers to start with?

Yes, funny indeed.

It wasn't funny however when Orion continued to name all the things he thought she had lied to him about. Hermione had never realised she had been so careless around him. It was just that… he was everything good in her life. Everything far away from her mission, too.

Even Sirius, whom she adored so much, was his son. And he was a devoted father and aspired to be a good one.

All these thoughts had been jumbling her head as her heart beat faster to make it clear whose side it was on… Then Orion desperately confessed he could not live without her.

Thinking about his confession even now, Hermione couldn't contain the hot blaze that set her body aflame. He was so honest… bold…and passionate…

Why did she have to be logical, anyway?

She had already destroyed two of Voldemort's Horcruxes. She deserved to be happy.

It would have been absurd not to take the chance when the excuse was there right in front of her face, too: Dolohov had involved Orion Black in this mess the moment he had sent that curse at her.

Finally coming to a conclusion at that last thought, Hermione did not feel guilty over disclosing her secret even if it meant that now four people in total knew about her origins. Yet, while Orion had agreed on a Wizarding Oath, he had also turned mute upon her confession that involved a rough explanation of her past and now. She hadn't gone into detail about her plans with Abraxas, but Orion knew the objective at least. Defeat Voldemort before he becomes who he will become in her original timeline.

Hermione had accepted Orion's request for time, to be able to take everything in. She had a job to take care of, in the meantime, to help keep her mind from worrying too much about his reaction. She had delayed Mrs Greengrass's kind initiative for some time now. The woman had arranged a few interviews with possible Governors for her school, and the applicants were more than worthy; at least, according to Mrs Greengrass.

Indeed, it was surprising to see that the second applicant had been a Half-blood. Unfortunately, no Muggleborns were on the list but even so, as the applicant visits continued on, Hermione noticed there were a few more Half-bloods from Mrs Greengrass' recommendation list. It was promising— Hermione would have hated to be stuck with a Muggleborn-hater as a financial supporter of the school.

"Thank you, Miss Brown," Hermione said to the applicant. The young woman shared similar curly hair and the hooked nose of Lavender Brown. Unlike Lavender, however, she was a Half-blood so it might be that they were related on her father's side. "Do you have any questions before we wrap this up?"

Miss Brown hesitated. Seeing that, it only felt right for Hermione to encourage her. "Yes?"

"How do you imagine the workload to be?" she asked. Quickly, the young witch rephrased it, "I meant, what would be the extent of responsibilities of a governor?"

"How do you imagine it to be?" Hermione asked out of curiosity. This one was a new Hogwarts-graduate, it had been only two years since. Miss Brown was younger than what Hermione had in mind, but she was open to considering it.

"Receiving kids from families, overlooking breakfast then starting the school day. I don't know how you want the schedule to be, but if there are classes till noon, then the afternoon would be free for games and etiquette lessons. Once finished, families come to get the children and day ends. That's when my question comes in, actually. After the end of the day for the children, what do we do? I'm aware this is a new establishment, and it will be my first time teaching a class rather than two or three children at most, so I was wondering how involved the governors will be with the curriculum… I mean daily, weekly and annual schedule of the school?"

Well, Hermione could not brush off that question and it pleased her to find an applicant who had put so much thought into this. It could only mean she was considering how much she should be invested in this possible job.

"Would this position give you academic freedom, you mean?" Hermione guessed. Of course, academic freedom might be a loose term considering they would be taking in children of varying ages - from five to eleven years - but still.

Hermione had the feeling this Miss Brown and she were on the same page.

"I thought you were with Orion," Hermione asked panicked when she spotted Abraxas descending the stairs at the Manor.

Abraxas halted with an apple in his hand. "Hello to you, too, dear. I missed you as well. How were all the interviews?"

"Why aren't you with Orion?" she repeated. "It's not like you have to leave the house to see him? I left only for a couple of hours."

"Six hours, to be exact," Abraxas teased her, checking his wristwatch. "I bet you asked the applicants whether they had any criminal charges."

"Of course, I did. I won't be taking anyone with a history of molesting children." Hermione shook her head. This was not what she had asked. "Well, why are you here instead of looking after Orion?"

"He likes my son better, that's bloody why." Abraxas snorted. "The two like playing wizarding chess. Less chat and more play."

Hermione rolled her eyes. She no longer detested Lucius Malfoy, actually. Malfoy jr was more like a nasty troubled younger brother with an ambition that got him a big-head.

"I would have thought Black would see him as competition," Abraxas wondered out loud.

"What?" Hermione eyed him, his meaning only then catching up with her. "Ew, no, disgusting. Besides, he's married."

"Hasn't stopped you so far." Abraxas smirked evilly and tipped his head towards the general direction of where Orion was resting upstairs.

Hermione opened her mouth, preparing for an exasperated comeback (her head was filled with that detail already so why was he acting like a git about it?) but Abraxas was faster.

"Yes, I know you would prefer me any day, no need to rub it in!" Abraxas shot at her with raised eyebrows and an innocent smile. "Anyway, Black must not know what good company is."

Hermione swallowed her initial reply and snorted at him instead. "The joke's on you, then. Because you and Black keep me company ninety-five percent of the time."

Satisfied that she had one-upped Abraxas, Hermione was ready to be smug.

"Who was your Arithmancy teacher, dear? You are not good with numbers unless there are two of you who commit yourself one for me and the other to Black ninety-five percent."

His snicker put Hermione in a foul mood that only friends did when they outsmarted you. Rare it was for Hermione as she was used to being the smart-mouth in every situation, but she was indeed spent after taking care of Orion the past week.

"Fine, whatever." She huffed.

"Oh, by the way," Hermione continued, interrupting Abraxas' departure. The man was probably on his way to hide in his study to smoke a pipe. Hermione never supported him in his hobbies. "I will write to Sirius about his father."

Of course, Hermione had more to discuss with Sirius but that was family matters. Regardless of how much Hermione loved Abraxas, he was not exactly family as Sirius was for her.

"These are not matters to be written down, Hermione. I agree the Black heir must know—"

"Relax. I will write to him to arrange for us to meet. For a talk." With Abraxas' suspicious stare, she added, "A talk magically protected and silenced. Remember the spell I taught you? Muffliato?"

Abraxas smoothed his features and nodded. "Then have fun."

Hello, everyone!

I hope you all and your loved ones are safe and healthy. I pray every day for these difficult times to pass; we have to hang in there all the same!

Chapter count for this story increased to 28, but hopefully, with the immense planning it went to the plot & scenes, there won't be any more surprises :D

Hope you enjoyed this chapter! I'm excited to hear what you thought about it!

With love,

Ydream08