Orion Black sat in the Black family library at Grimmauld Place. Light from the nearby oil lanterns illuminating the textbook and parchment he found himself hunched over, trying in vain to focus on the last bit of summer homework that he had left.
His father had stipulated that his summer work must be completed before the party, else it would be cancelled. That would never be acceptable, and so, here he sat. one of his hands raked through his once perfectly styled hair, touseling it in a way that it somehow ended up looking neatly playful. The Potter's hair could never lay this neat, even in its current state of (comparative) disarray.
A heavy sigh broke past his lips as he slouched back into his chair, running his fingers through his hair once more. Runes always made his head spin, but his parents had required the course of him. He was never given any explanation , but he figured it was either to do something with the Dark Arts, or their Family Magic. Either way, he couldn't wait to be done with it.
Careful of his ink stained fingers, Orion rubbed the ache from his eyes. The firelight wasn't ideal for his eyes, but it worked. Too bad his parents forbade magic in the library. Too many old books sensitive to ambient energies or something like that.
Orion jumped and whirled to face the small window as he heard a sharp tapping noise. An upset dark grey owl sat there, golden eyes staring down at him balefully. She ruffled her feathers, splashing a fair bit of rain water onto the sealed window.
"I'm so sorry," Orion called out softly, rushing to the window. He noticed the obviously unharmed scroll of parchment tied to the proud owl's leg and his heart skipped a beat. He recognized that ribbon. He'd been forced to memorize it and the wax signet that sealed it to the scroll. It was another letter from Lady Peverell.
"This window doesn't open," Orion shrunk back as the sooty owl glared at him with her unsettling golden eyes. "I'm sorry. My room is directly above the library. I can open my window there for you."
Headwig gave him another look before turning and taking off, almost disappearing into the night as she spread her wings and rose up above where he could see.
Orion took only a second to wonder why the owl's glare had such an effect on him before he dismissed it and ran up towards his room. There was a letter from Lady Peverell to attend to after all.
In his haste to get up the stairs, Orion almost forgot about the artifacts that his parents had scattered about the house. He ducked at the last second to avoid the mechanical bits thrown by the grandfather clock, and tripped slightly on the third to last step when he stepped on the sinking sigil woven into the runner.
A bit disheveled and about three hairs lighter, Orion slammed the door of his room open and rushed to the window. He didn't see the owl sitting on the sill, but he tossed the window open and stepped back. He stood there for about three seconds.
It didn't matter that he had stepped away from the window. Headwig shot through and landed on his shoulder with an enormous splash of rain water, thoroughly drenching him in the process. Once she settled she shook herself dry, further soaking the left side of Orion before she even considered proffering her leg for him to retrieve the letter.
"Thank you my dear," Orion stated blandly, less than thrilled at the unexpected shower he had just received. Briefly, he wondered where Lady Peverel had procured such a willful and interesting bird. He wiped the water from his face with a neatly pressed handkerchief before carefully extracting the tightly rolled sheaf of parchment from her leg.
His heart sped up, and a soft smile curled its way onto his face as he read Heir Orion Black inscribed onto the corner of the page in a casually neat hand. He marveled for a second at the elegant slant of the lettering before he tugged on the end of the silvery gray ribbon. The seal came off effortlessly, coiling itself up and attaching itself to the upper corner of the parchment as Orion unfurled it.
Within the letter for Orion was a second scroll. This second one, written on foiled and embossed parchment, was Lord Arcturus Black. Orion swallowed, his mouth running dry. This letter was Official Correspondence. And she had entrusted it within a letter to him. Instead of the other way around. That showed a deference to Him, the Heir, as the person she felt more familiar with, rather than deference to the person with political power.
Quite the honor, he noted as he skimmed over the note for him before shoving it carefully into his pocket, hurrying to bring the official correspondence to his father. It was her RSVP to the party he had invited her to, and she had said yes. He would be officially meeting Lady Peverell in about four days' time.
"Kreature," Orion called out as he walked. A young, squat elf with an overly protuberant nose appeared, barely stumbling as he matched pace with the young master.
"What can Kreature be doing for yous good young sir," Kreature bowed as they walked eager to serve.
"Where is my father? I have an urgent letter for him."
"The master sir is in the drawing room with the misses madame and her guests. Shall Kreature inform them of your seeking sir?"
"No creature. Thank you, you may go"
Kreature bowed while walking, and tripped over his own nose, disappearing with a pop before the poor elf could tumble to the floor properly.
Orion continued down the stairs to the drawing room, tidying himself up on the way. He paused outside the door. He tugged his robes straight one last time, clearing his throat, and fixing his posture before knocking politely. A muffled voice carried through the thick dark wooden door calling him to enter. He carefully twisted the door handle and it swung open smoothly.
A shock of bright red hair met his eyes as he stepped into the room, and he lightly bowed in greeting to their guests. "Lord and lady Prewett," he greeted them politely. "Mother," he walked over and politely kissed her cheek in greeting. "I do hope I am not disturbing you unduly, but I'm afraid I must call Father away to attend to some business."
"Of course it's no bother at all," lady prewett gushed, flattered by this proper display of manners from the young man. Lord Prewett nodded next to her, trying not to look too put out as his conversation partner stood to take his leave.
Orion's ears tinged pink as they exited the room, hearing Lady Prewett's comments about how handsome he had grown since they had met last. The door shut with a sharp click, and Orion turned to face his father.
Lord Arcturus Black was a tall man, towering over his son by almost a full head for now. Orion still had time to catch up. However Orion had inherited a bit more of his mother's angular beauty, whereas Arcturus was a sternly square kind of handsome, with severely square facial lines starting to deepen into his face. A few strands of gray touched the dark thick hair at his temples, standing out starkly and starting to make him look distinguished with age.
The pair of them nodded at each other before moving down the hall to Arctutus' office. As soon as they had closed the door Arcturus faced Orion.
"What is it?" his tone broached no nonsense as his eyes bored into Orion's, searching, as well as informally testing his occlumency barriers.
"You've a letter," Orion stated calmly, drawing Lady Peverell's letter from his pocket and handing it to his father.
Arcturus took the vellum scroll, slowly examining it before tapping the seal with his wand. A small puff of green colored smoke emerged from the tip of the wand, indicating that it was safe to open. He tucked his wand back into his sleeve and tugged on the ribbon, breaking the seal and having it shift the same way it did on Orion's letter.
Orion sat down in front of the enormous desk as his father read, watching the minute changes of expression that floated across his face. To the casual observer he was a hard man to read. However, to those who got to know him his face was like an open book. In particular, the deepening of the dimple on his left cheek let Orion know that he was well pleased with what he had read.
Arcturus sat down behind his desk as he slowly reread the letter for the third time, slowly chewing on the inside of his cheek. She was a clever one, this Lady Peverell. Nothing she said was singular in its meaning, and she quite succinctly made it clear that she was neutral in all parties. She would meet everyone and get to know everyone, but would hold her own council. She would not fall into line on either side of the spectrum, regardless of how others felt on the topics discussed.
Arcturus was impressed. She must have been trained well for a teenager. Even just based on this letter, Arcturus could see how her appearance into the political sphere would cause waves. He had no doubt that she would become a great voice, one that others would listen to… as long as she made smart friends… and she was open to a friendship with the Black family. Arcturus could read between the lines. A great storm was brewing and Lady Peverell would fight her way to be at the helm to lead whomever followed her through.
"You invited her to your little get together with your friends, correct?" Arcturus asked nonchalantly.
Orion nodded, then quickly corrected himself at his father's look.
"Yes father. An invitation was sent just yesterday."
"And?"
Orion pulled out the letter from Lady Peverell and unfurled it carefully before reading aloud.
"Heir Orion Black, I am very honored to accept your invitation on August 3rd. It would indeed be much more pleasant attending Hogwarts knowing that there would be several familiar faces amongst the crowd, and hopefully even one or two that I might be able to call friends…"
Arcturus leaned back in his chair, closing his eyes and steepling his fingers as he listened to his son read. Silence filled the air for a minute as Arcturus processed what he had heard. A single eye cracked open to observe his son for a second. The letter from Lady Peverell was still grasped firmly in his hand, close to his chest rather than relaxed at his side. Arcturus took a deep breath as he reordered his thoughts. Perhaps a friendship would be able to happen more naturally...
"It seems the young Lady Peverell is in the market for some good friends." Arcturus stated matter of factly.
"Yes father."
"We shall do our best to be those friends."
"Yes father."
"Her name alone carries much weight within magical Britain. I don't care if she's dark aligned or not. In fact, from what I've seen she probably won't be. All I care about is that she is not stolen and wielded as a political battering ram by the light. Do you think you can do that?"
"Yes father." Orion was stunned. His father always wanted control over others. And yet in this… He turned and drifted out of his fathers office in a daze at the wave of dismissal. What could have been in that letter to convince Lord Arcturus Black that you couldn't be under his thumb?
The letter in his hand wrinkled a bit more as Orion unconsciously gripped it tighter. He would have to go through and read it properly. Perhaps send a regular letter in response, rather than a formal correspondence. Offer a bit of familiarity before she met him in person, so that both of them could know generally what to expect. Maybe actually start a friendship before then… friendship… friends…
Who had responded that they'd be there? Orion sat at his desk in his room and pulled the RSVP list towards himself. Abraxus Malfoy had obviously said yes. A year older but very much adept at weaseling his way into the respectable crowd by virtue of money. Heir Marianna Selwyn and heir Raed Shafiq had responded affirmatively as well. Just a couple cousins would be there, as well as Ignatious Prewett. He was looking for any reason to be around anyways, what with his infatuation with his sister Lucretia.
"They were probably discussing the possibility of a marriage contract," Orion mumbled under his breath. "Gods I hope I can marry outside of the family."
His stomach churned as he imagined marrying any of his cousins. They had mostly grown up together as siblings, so to even consider them for marriage was nauseating. Especially Wallaburga. She was nearly twenty already with no external prospects, and it wouldn't take long for the patriarchs to find her a match within the family or declare her insane and send her to live in france. Whichever it was, he didn't care as long as he wasn't the poor sod who got stuck with that harpy. Her shrill shrieks could be heard from miles away.
Part of him was worried though. He had seen her scoping people out last christmas, and she seemed to fixate on him. She had not so subtly shadowed him as he moved around the room socializing. Her eyes on him constantly made the hairs on the back of his neck prickle.
Orion shivered slightly at that memory and recomposed himself. He supposed he would have to find a significant other soon, otherwise he'd be at risk of being forcibly matched with someone against his will.
Orion's eyes absently drifted across the desk towards the letter from Lady Peverell, and a half formed idea stirred in his mind. He leaned back in his chair and rubbed his eyes, trying to shut down that train of thought.
"No," he whispered to himself. "Orion no. You haven't even properly met her. Absolutely not. Don't even consider it, that's completely inappropriate."
Regardless of his intent, his mind wandered. After all, she had made quite the impression. That tends to happen when someone (regardless of how pretty she was) appears out of thin air and lands on top of you. Orion remembered the shock of the impact, and the sharp pang of concern he felt as he watched the goblins hoist her up and drag her into the depths of their caverns. He remembered the sense of relief he felt when her first letter arrived, assuaging his (not so subtle) fears that she had been killed down in those vaults.
As their communication began, Orion found that not only was she pretty (he refused to acknowledge actively in his mind), but she was clever. She hid subtle jokes and jibes in her casual letters, but was also able to impress his Father through just a couple letters.
Orion pulled an embossed sheet of parchment from his drawer and absently started writing.
To the esteemed Lady Peverell,
Orion paused there. What was he trying to convey? What did he want to tell her? He sat for a while, staring at the single line as his foot tapped anxiously against the ground.
He jumped as Lady Peverell's owl barked. A completely unexpected sound from a sooty owl. He looked at the bird as she winged her way across the room. She landed on the desk and purposefully put one taloned foot on the rsvp list, making direct eye contact with him the entire time.
Orion looked between the list and the owl a couple times before the connection clicked in his mind. He grinned and dug around in his desk for an owl treat.
"You are an absolutely brilliant owl," Orion laughed, tossing her a treat from his bottom drawer.
Headwig caught the treat and puffed up her chest proudly at the praise. Of course she was brilliant. She was Headwig, not some common mail owl.
She settled herself on the back of his chair while he wrote furiously. It had been a good flight down, despite the rain. Perhaps she would be able to take a response back tonight, and rejoin her companion in the morning. Her companion always made sure she had some good bacon.
It was an hour later that Orion leaned back from the letter, finally finished. Headwig drifted down from her perch and stuck her leg out as soon as the ink had dried.
Orion blinked a couple times at her before looking outside.
"It's still raining," he said, concerned.
Headwig barked and shook her leg.
"Alright then," Orion said. "One moment though."
He grabbed his quil and quickly scribbled down a post script. He blotted it dry and then rolled up the letter, sealing it and then tying it to headwig's outstretched leg. He then walked to the window and opened it, allowing the night air and the smell of rain to permeate his room. It was just a light drizzle by this point.
"Have a safe flight," Orion said.
Headwig barked in what almost seemed like laughter as she took off into the night. She disappeared into the darkness in seconds, and Orion slowly shut his window once more.
Orion yawned as the hall clock chimed midnight. It was late. The rest of his homework could be finished tomorrow.