Enemies

by P.A.R

A look at the history of the Unspeakable Orion Black.

50. Chapter FortyOne: Capture

A/N: Sometimes they're short.

Sometimes they're long.

Sometimes they're books in and of themselves.

This is a book.

And as always,

Enjoy.

Disclaimer: Looks over lottery tickets Damn! Didn't win here either.

CHAPTER FORTY-ONE: CAPTURE

The Deatheaters hurried down the metal stairs of muggle refinery, moving with a lot less stealth than usual.

One of the men stopped at the bottom and hurried the others past him.

The man in the rear stopped next to the other as the rest hurried down the next flight.

"Johnathan, lets just apparate out of here!" The man practically pleaded. "The Aurors are right on our tails. We're busted and so is the mission. It's time for a hasty retreat."

Treaks shot the man a dangerous look. "And just who is in charge of this mission?" He ask in a low, level tone. "You or me?" A solid shove didn't even give the man time to answer as he was sent after the others. "Now move!"

The man hurried to catch up with the others while Treaks held back and waited.

"What is he doing?" One of the Deatheaters ask as the other joined the group. "He's hanging back too much. We could lose the wretched Aurors if Treaks wasn't stopping every few minutes to make sure they kept sight of us."

The other hurried on past the man on his way down the steps. "Maybe you'd like to stay here and give him your valuable opinion."

The man considered, the hurried after the others down the next flight.

The group paused at the bottom, waiting for Treaks to catch up to them.

"Johnathan, what's going on?" The first man ask. "Do you want the Aurors to catch up to us?"

"Just one of them." Treaks replied with a maniacal smile. With another solid shove he sent the man stumbling off to one side. "Take the others and go off that way." He instructed him. "And make sure the Aurors can hear you. Lead them for a few minutes, then disapparate back to the lair."

The man paused for a few seconds, considering his orders, then finally nodded and started off, gathering the others with him as he went. If Treaks was that keen on staying behind, so be it.

As soon as they had taken off, Treaks hurried up a flight of steps that led in the opposite direction. At the top, he crouched down and waited. He could hear the others well enough still. That was good.

He turned his attention quickly to the sounds coming from where the group had just come from. Running feet could be heard. A good deal softer than those of his group, but audible none-the-less.

Treaks pulled back a bit more so that he was completely hidden. As the Aurors came into sight, moving swiftly towards the stairs the Deatheaters had been on just moments before, he smiled as he saw the men leading them.

The lead Auror fired a spell at the stairs, causing them to pull up and flatten out into a smooth ramp. The first two Aurors took the ramp like a pair of kids taking on a slide.

Orion Black, followed by his partner, Charly Misser.

Treaks remained where he was, taking careful aim. Maybe he could get a little something extra out of the plan that he had.

The spell shot out of the tip of his wand, headed for the base of the stairs.

At the calculated rate, Treaks reasoned the spell and the muggle pretender would hit the base of the stairs at exactly the same time.

But as the spell headed towards them, the Auror caught sight of it and put his arm out, digging his heels into the smooth surface and stopping himself as well as his partner.

The spell hit the base of the stairs in an eruption of sparks, missing its intended target by inches. But the two Aurors had already cleared the ramp off to either side, followed less than a split second later by the others as the whole group went for cover.

Treaks barely had time to put the rest of his plan into effect as the Aurors came out from their cover, a plan of their own already in place.

Just the one Treaks had hoped for.

Misser and the others headed after the Deatheaters while Black, providing their cover, headed right for where Treaks was hiding.

Perfect.

Treaks had counted on Black to be the one who would try to keep him busy by coming after him while the others went after the Deatheaters.

Treaks took off, headed in the opposite direction from what the Deatheaters had taken. He wanted to get as much distance between Black and the other aurors as he could.

Everything was going exactly according to his plan.

Treaks made sure he was far enough ahead of the Auror to be out of sight. That was when he laid his trap, using a spell the master had taught him. It had taken a few well constructed lies to get the particulars of the spell. But what mattered was that in the end, he got them. And the spell was going to serve him well.

He used the perimeter of the spell as the four corners of the room he currently stood in. The room, though mostly empty, was extremely large. Treaks figured that it was used from time to time as some sort of storage space for crates until they could be shipped out to their destinations. The size of the room might strain the spell's strength, but it would possibly also serve to keep Black from detecting it. A part that was crucial to his plan. Treaks waited until he heard the Auror approaching then spoke the spell as the master had taught him. He waited a few more moments, then took off running across the room. He couldn't appear to be waiting for the Auror or Black would become suspicious.

A blast from a spell cut over his shoulder and erupted into sparks on the far side of the wall. He had counted on that. A warning shot. Not meant to hit him, only get his attention. And the shot came nearly just when he had planned for it. When he was nearly on the other side of the room near the doorway.

Pulling to a stop, Treaks turned to face his adversary.

"Johnathan Treaks!" Orion stated, holding his wand pointed at the man before him. "Well, this is just my lucky day, isn't it?"

Treaks watched as the Auror entered the room. He needed Black at least halfway or he might still have a trick up his sleeve that would allow him to escape. If he was in the center of the room when Treaks sprung his trap, there would be no chance for him to escape.

"I suppose that depends on how you look at it." Treaks replied.

"I'll consider it lucky if it's all the same to you."

Treaks watched the man advance slowly across the room, but never moved himself. The Auror was looking for a trap. He needed to distract him.

"I suppose it's lucky for me as well." He stated.

"Looking for a free trip to Azkaban, are you?"

"Oh, I'm in no danger of going to Azkaban." Treaks replied. "At least not today."

Orion stopped. "And what makes today so special for you, Treaks?"

"Because you're the Auror chasing me, and you're going to let me go."

Orion gave s slight snort of laughter. "Really? I catch Voldemort's second-in-command, and I am going to let him go because.....?"

Treaks gave the Auror a very self-satisfied smile. "Because you wouldn't want to upset Katlin, now, would you, Auror?"

Orion narrowed his eyes slightly, but said nothing.

Treaks smiled to himself. The shot had hit pay dirt. All he had to do not was play the man until he was ready to spring his trap.

"I know all about you and Griss, Black." He went on.

"You're babbling, Treaks." Came the almost steady answer.

Almost.

The Auror was interested. Treaks could hear it in his voice.

"Really? Then perhaps Katlin was just babbling as well when she told me about your relationship with her. About how very easy it was for her to manipulate you. To draw you in. But you see, that is what she does. It's what she is. And you fell for it easier than anyone I had ever seen. The great Auror Orion Black, lapdog to Voldemort's top Elite."

A small smile crept over the Auror's face. "You know nothing, Treaks." Orion stated.

"Of course." Treaks replied. "That's how I know about this at all. Oh, it seemed to be give and take. You got bits of information. But what she got from you was far more valuable. We used to have a good laugh over it during the days....in the lair....in her rooms."

"And all of this is going to get you a 'Get out of Azkaban free' card because why?" Came the very cold question.

Treaks had to give the man credit. He didn't think Black would hold his ground this long. "Because you won't want to be the one responsible for killing the man Katlin loves."

A short snort of laughter answered the statement. "You are babbling still, Treaks." Orion stated. "You are the last person in the whole wizarding world Katlin Griss would be in love with."

"And you were played, Auror." Treaks stated with a cold smile. "By Voldemort's best."

Orion returned the smile. "And you know nothing."

"Really? Then I know nothing about your coming to see her at her apartment. Nothing about Lawrence Oliver's party. Nothing about the envelope she claimed she found there. Nothing about the wizard in the north she has been warning you about. Nothing about her manipulating her way into your home. Nothing about the story of her past she told you, about how her parents were murdered. And I wouldn't know anything at all about the story you were fed about who was really responsible for what happened in her village."

Treaks could tell just by the look in the Auror's eyes he was pushing ever single right button with the man.

"She told you what you wanted to hear." He goaded him on. "Did what you expected of her. Everything she had to to get you to trust her and tell her what she wanted to know." Treaks gave him a smile. "Right down to lying to you that she was pregnant."

That was it. The final push he needed. The Auror took three running steps towards him. His sole goal to get his hands around the Deatheater's throat.

Treaks jumped back, clearing the room and immediately touched the tip of his wand to the floor.

"Amatray!" He shouted.

The room erupted in a flash of light. The energy coursed through every square inch of the room like electricity following a grid map that had been laid out. All of it finally centering on the lone figure in the middle of it.

Treaks had to shield his eyes from the power of the blast. But when he finally looked back, all that remained was a lone figure laying crumpled on the stone floor.

With a pleased smile Treaks walked over to the man and gave the body a sharp kick.

"Great magic!" He thought, pulling the body up in one arm as he pulled a portkey out of his pocket. "It shouldn't be this easy."

Within minutes of arriving back at the ministry, Charly knew something wasn't right. Orion didn't return to the arranged area. And absolutely no one had seen him since they returned. In fact, the last anyone had seen of him was when he went after the Deatheater on his own.

Charly headed straight for Bale's office, not bothering to waste time on formalities as he burst into the office without knocking.

"Sir, we have trouble." He stated.

Without looking up from his desk, Bal continued to work on the report on his desk. "Tell Black whatever he's doing, I said to stop it."

"If I knew where he was, Sir, I'd be happy to."

Bale looked up this time. "Where he was? You're his partner, Misser. You should know where the man is."

"The last anyone saw of him, Sir, he was headed after a Deatheater over at the Mierson Plant on our last mission."

Bale was out of his chair in an instant. "Charson. Markel. Report! Now!"

Two Auror's instantly apparated in front of their superior.

Before either could say a word Bale turned a furious stare on them. "Black. Where is he?!"

The two men suddenly looked very nervous. "He hasn't reported in yet, Sir." One of them answered finally.

"And exactly how long were you planning on giving him?" Bale nearly yelled at the two. "The man went after a Deatheater alone. He hasn't reported back yet. How many more parts of this equation do you need before you decide it adds up to something bad?"

"We were preparing to report, Sir." One of the men answered.

Bale looked ready for murder. "I have an agent missing, and you were 'ready' to report? Report what, Charson? The Deatheaters are having a party over his carcass?" Bale turned to the other man. "Get everyone who was on that mission and have them in my office in five minutes. Do you understand?!"

"Yes, Sir." Both men answered in unison, then quickly disapparated.

Bale turned back to a very worried looking Charly. "You already know where he is." Charly stated in a deathly quiet whisper.

"No, Misser." Bale replied. "I know who has him. I have no idea 'where' he is. We haven't been able to locate the Deatheaters new lair yet."

Charly sat through the brief meeting in stoic silence, all the while mentally cursing his partner's stupidity. If Orion hadn't destroyed the lair, they would likely have already gotten to him by now. Had him safely out of the Deatheaters hands and back at the Ministry.

But they had no idea where the new lair was. Orion had screwed himself badly this time. It could take them days.....or weeks to find where he was.

If it even matter still by then.

If it even matter still now.

Charly still sat in his silence as the others filed out of the room. Finally the door closed as Bale stood next to him.

"We'll find him, Charly." The man promised. "This is everyone's top priority. We'll get him back."

Charly nodded mutely as he slowly got to his feet.

"Go home." Bale advised. "Get some rest. I'll let you know as soon as they bring him in."

Charly said nothing as he headed out the door. Bale could reassure him all he wanted. But Charly knew they were playing bad odds against this one. The chances of getting his partner back in one solid piece were small, and Bale knew it. Orion was at the top of the Deatheaters 'to do' list and had been for some time. He would be a prize they wouldn't give up easily.

Hurrying out of the office, Charly made it home in record time. Grabbing his wand he stood in the middle of a large open room and held the wand between his hands. Maybe Bale and his agents could prevail and get Orion back. But time wasn't on their side. And it was getting shorter with every passing second. Something had to be done, and it had to be done now. And Charly felt it was about time that having a Deatheater for a partner paid off for him.

"Treaks!" Charly called as he held the wand in a tight grip before him. Treaks would know where they had taken him. What they were planning to do with him. Treaks could get him freed.

The wand glowed slightly, then the light faded.

"Treaks!" Charly called again, sounding more desperate this time as he mentally was ticking off the seconds going against his partner.

The wand glowed again, then dimmed.

"Treaks!" Charly called one last time. But the results were exactly the same. The wand glow, then dimmed.

But still no Treaks.

A horrible sense of foreboding seized Charly. What if Treaks knew where his partner was? What if Treaks had been the Deatheater Orion went after? Then Treaks would not only know of his capture, but would have been responsible for it.

Charly gripped the wand tighter than ever.

Treaks had betrayed him.

Orion woke to the most unpleasant feeling in his right shoulder.

Ah. Dislocation. That was never a pleasant feeling, he told himself.

He had been in the hands of the Deatheaters for twelve hours, and they had certainly made the most of their time.

Not one part of his body that he could still feel didn't hurt. He had lost the feeling in his arms a long time ago as he recalled. Chained in a cell, he had been given just enough slack that he could kneel on the dirt floor. His body was suspended by his arms, which were chained above him on either side and pulled back slightly behind his body.

He could feel the caked cloth hanging on his torso, soaked as it was in his own blood and sweat, mixed with dirt and whatever else the Deatheaters had seen fit to throw at him in the past twelve hours. Most of which, by the smell alone, he didn't care to venture guessing at.

The worst of it was they had hung a Blocker around his neck, making it tight enough that he couldn't get it off himself. Normally the ministry would have been able to trace him in a matter of minutes. But Blockers made any magical tracing useless. And the ministry hadn't found a way yet to circumvent them. Finding him now could take hours, even days....if he was found at all. His best hope now was Bo. But for that he had to be left alone. Orion had no desire to ever tip that hand to the Deatheaters. To his knowledge, the Deatheaters knew nothing about the boggart, and Orion liked to keep it that way. Should they ever learn about him, Orion had no doubt Voldemort would stop at nothing to capture Bo and exploit the boggart's power for his own use.

That was a danger he simply couldn't put his friend in. No matter what.

The sound of footsteps down the corridor broke into his thoughts.

From the sounds of the voices Orion guessed four men were headed towards his cell. One of them unmistakably Treaks. Characteristically, Orion thought, the loudest.

Opening the door, the four gathered in a circle around him. For once the beatings didn't start right off, leaving Orion wondering what they had planned this time. But from the corner of his view he caught sight of a flash of metal.

A knife.

A long thin one.

Treaks took his position behind him, the long, sharp silver knife held in his hand.

"What did you think, Auror?" He hissed in his captives ear. "That you luck would hold out forever?"

Orion made no attempt to even acknowledge he had heard the man, doing his best as it was to keep his mind off of how much pain he was already in. He knew from experience being in the hands of the Deatheaters was no picnic. But Treaks went at his work like a man with a score to settle.

A very personal one.

A hand grabbed his hair and forced his head back.

"Answer when a Deatheater speaks to you!" Treaks demanded.

"I am sorry." Orion forced out between swollen lips. "Did you say something?"

The hand that gripped his hair tightened as it pulled back harder, causing Orion to grit his teeth.

"Keep it up, Auror." Treaks sneered at him. "The longer you fight, the happier I am. I look forward to breaking you."

"Really, Treaks.' Orion hissed out between clenched teeth. "How do you expect Voldemort to keep getting you toys if you keep breaking them?"

"Somehow I doubt he'll be too angry when I bring him this one in pieces."

Orion could practically feel the man's smile as Treaks slowly stood back up. What he didn't like was that the death grip on his hair never let loose.

"You enjoy your little banter, don't you, Auror?" The Elite asked. "You think it makes you in control. Don't you!?" The last two words were nearly shouted as the hand gripping his hair gave a solid yank, forcing his head back further.

Orion had to congratulate the man. He had almost gotten a good yelp of pain out of him with that one. But instead he bit his teeth together tighter.

"Well," He managed to get out still, "someone has to be."

"And before the sun rises again, Auror, you are going to learn who that is."

"Oh, magic." Orion sighed forlornly. "Is that how long I'm going to have to listen to you prattle on about how much of a man you think you are?"

Orion felt the blade of the knife caress his throat.

"I look forward to all of the time we're going to spend together." The Deatheater stated. "And you will learn to respect the power of our dark lord."

"Power?" Orion managed a short, choked laugh. "Over a man beaten and still chained up? Can't say as I'm impressed so far."

A solid hand struck him across the face. He had almost forgotten the others in the cell.

"Scum!" One of the man before him screamed in his face. "How dare you speak such disrespect. Voldemort will reward us well for killing you."

Orion felt the hand wrap his hair tightly about it, again pulling his neck taunt as his head was yanked back.

"Are you prepared to die, Auror?" he heard Treaks whisper in his ear.

"If it shuts you up, go ahead." Orion replied, trying to keep the pain under control, not that he was sure it mattered much anymore. The men seemed determined to kill him, as was he always sure was their intention. And he had his doubts even Bo could help him out of this one, even though the Blocker the Deatheaters used to keep the Ministry from apparating their captured agents out of the Deatheaters hands would only keep the boggart at bay for a few hours, it was likely all the Deatheaters were going to need.

He could follow Treaks movements by the man's grip on his hair. He felt the Deatheater step behind him. Could feel the pull on his hair tighten. Could feel the man pull back for the downward strike with the knife.

It was the only surprise Treaks dealt him that night.

Instead of feeling the knife bury its way into his back, he felt the grip on his hair instantly loosen at the same moment he expected the pain to come.

A very satisfying Treaks stepped back around in front of him, his hand still wrapped tightly about his hair, now shorn off in the man's grip.

"Not yet, Auror." He stated in a voice that was pure hatred. "Not yet."

Three solid kicks left him barely conscience as the other filed out of the room, each taking their turn at him as they left. A loud clang of metal shook its way through his body as the door to his cell was slammed shut and he listened to the men leave, laughing as they discussed what to do with their prize.

Orion fought every minute to hold onto consciousness as he tried to sort out what to do next.

He should have called Bo from the beginning.

No. He quickly shook off the idea. Things were too confused then. Bringing Bo in would only have complicated them. Possibly even risk injury to his friend. But he had waited too long for the right opportunity, underestimating how quickly things would move. He never imagined the depths of Treaks hatred for him would lead the man to act so rashly. He was a prize catch. Captured before, he had gone days before anyone so much as threatened him. Voldemort had seen too much potential in learning the Ministry secrets through him than to allow anyone to so much as hit him. Not that his time there before had been any picnic either. He had had to ward off their interrogators for hours at a time as they tried to break down his defenses; mental, physical, and magical. But in the end they had made the one fatal error they always did.

They left him alone.

Then it was a simple matter to call Bo to get him out of the lair.

Within minutes he was safely home.

His predicament now, he was aware enough to know, was grave at best. He was in a Deatheater lair, no one likely knew where, in the hands of a man who absolutely hated him.

The day was not looking very promising.

Charly practically took the door down at Orion's house as he burst through it. He had a key. He knew all the spells and wards and how to get through them. But this was the fastest way to get the attention of who he wanted.

Almost as soon as he was through the door, a large black mass of robes came flying out of the cellar, banging the door against the hinges as it came and making a horrible racket. Anyone else would likely have not waited to see any more of the display and would probably have been halfway back to town at that point. But Charly stood his ground. He knew Bo too well to be taken in by the act.

Besides, he knew what was coming.

The mass of black material flew at him as though it intended to engulf its victim. But at the last second it pulled up and landed with an unimagined grace before the man.

As the material settled about its form, the boggart immediately took to bouncing in front of Charly, circling him as it did so. Watching the odd dance anyone else might have likened it to a large dog whose owner had just gotten home after a long day.

The truth of the matter was Bo absolutely loved Charly. Whenever Orion's best friend came over, the boggart positively shadowed him, like a child following its favorite family relative. Neither Charly nor Orion knew for sure exactly why the boggart had taken such a liking to the man. Orion had speculated it had something to do with Charly being mostly muggle. Bo had very few opportunities to interact with real muggles, and something about them just seemed to strike the right cord in the boggart.

Charly, usually giving the boggart the same attention one would an overly eager three year old begging for attention, this time only frowned at the display.

"Bo! Stop it!" Charly demanded.

The flurry of black robes suddenly came to a halt, as though whatever was animating them had abruptly come to an end. There was absolutely nothing natural about the transition of the movement.

"Bo, where is Orion?" He stated with a worried urgency in his voice.

The boggart seemed to consider the question, then went through a brief series of gestures.

"No, Bo." Charly countered, shaking his head. "He's not at the Ministry. He's not at the office. No one has seen him since we went on a raid early this evening. Do you understand?"

The boggart stared at the man before him without moving.

Charly sighed quietly. Orion knew exactly how to talk to the boggart. For Charly it was more of a challenge to get his point across.

"Bo, we went on a raid tonight."

The boggart made a quick gesture that Charly frowned at.

"I'm getting to that." He nearly yelled at the mass of black robes. "Just listen to me!"

The figure fell silent.

"Bo, we were after a group of Deatheaters tonight. Orion got separated from the others in the group. He went off after a Deatheater alone. When we came back to the Ministry, Orion didn't come with us. No one knows where he is."

The boggart seemed to consider the information, then made a slow gesture in front of him with his hand.

Charly shook his head. "Bo, he's not lost. I think Orion was captured....by some people who will hurt him, Bo. And they're going to hurt him a lot. Do you understand?"

The boggart made a series of quick gestures.

"I don't know where he is Bo. That's why I came here. I need you to find him."

The boggart fell absolutely still. Charly watched him for a few minutes, then went and sat on one of the foyer benches. He knew what was going on now. Bo was doing what he had asked. With his own innate power, which was more than Charly could even imagine, he was searching for his friend. The problem was, Bo was just a child really, working with an ability very few in the wizarding world wouldn't gladly kill to have control of. Perhaps Talon had truly found the best solution to how to deal with his 'family curse'. Put it somewhere no one else would think to look for it, where no one else could take it away, and give it the mind of a child.

The problem was, a child wasn't what Charly needed right now. He needed someone who could truly manipulate the Power. And the best person for that was Orion. Even Talon at times couldn't manipulate the Power as well as his son.

Charly thought of going to the elder Black for help. But that would take time. And there was no guarantee that Talon could do any better with the boggart than he was doing.

Charly watched the boggart for a few more minutes. Bo was best when left alone with a problem to work on. Bothering him simply broke his train of thought, and getting him back on board sometimes wasn't the easiest of tasks. So Charly decided to kill the time by going back to the office and seeing what was going on there. He could use a portkey and be back in about fifteen minutes tops. Maybe Bo would have something by then.

And besides, it was something to do.

Charly quickly got up and left, hurrying out to the end of the anti-apparation barriers.

As soon as the door closed, Bo's head suddenly came up. The call had struck him like a solid blow.

His friend was in danger. Bad danger. Just as Charly had said.

Without another seconds hesitation, the boggart vanished.

Katlin watched as the four men exited the lower levels of the lair. The levels where prisoners were kept. They were laughing and joking and fighting over something Treaks had in his hand. But she paid little attention to it. She was far more interested in the prisoner himself. The man had been brought in and taken to the lower levels so fast, few had even heard he had been brought in. But he was a prisoner. He should have been given to her first. Why was he given over to Treaks and his troop of idiots? Didn't Voldemort know that when they were done she likely wouldn't get anything out of the man anymore?

Waiting for the sounds of the laughing to die down in the distance, Katlin finally slipped from her hiding place and quickly slipped through the door to the lower levels of the lair.

Several flights later she found herself in some of the most distant areas of the prison. She made her way carefully along the row of cells, each one of them empty. It wasn't until she came to the very furthest one that she found what she was looking for.

It the last cell, hanging from chains by his wrists until he could just kneel on the dirt floor, was Treaks sport.

Bruised, bloody, cut and with more blood on him than Katlin felt was a good sign, she wasn't even sure the person was still alive.

"Who are you?" She asked in as demanding a tone as she dared, fearing someone else might hear her. But she wanted to make sure the person knew who was in charge.

The prisoner made no move to even answer her.

"Who are you?" She demanded again. "Answer when an Elite speaks to you."

The body in the cell moved slightly, as though trying to raise itself. Katlin felt an unexpected wave of relief rush through her to realize the person was still alive. But an abrupt choking sound caused her to question her assessment. The body lurched fitfully in its chains. If the person was alive, they didn't sound like they would be for long. A stream of blood sudden spilled between swollen, cracked lips onto the dirt floor before the body.

'What was Johnathan thinking!?' She angrily asked herself as she pulled out her wand. The prisoner was obviously important. Why did he show so little interest if the person choked to death on their own blood?

A quick spell and Katlin had the door to the cell open. Without much fear of attack, she rushed in and wrapped her hand under the person's jaw and tilted their head up.

That was the first look she got at the man before her. One that caused her to nearly drop her hold as he moaned in pain.

"Sier!"

An unexpected wave of emotion grabbed hold of her as Katlin stared down at the barely recognizable face.

What possible interest did Johnathan have in an Auror doctor?

Katlin quickly stabilized his head as he began to choke again. A shudder ran through his whole body and he began to cough. Barely enough to even get any air into his lungs. But it was a start.

Katlin quickly released the chains without thinking. The instant it was free of its support, the body collapsed against her, nearly knocking her back with its sheer dead-weight.

Katlin knew better than to lay him down. He probably had more blood in his lungs than in his veins at that point.

She had to do something. But what?

Leaving him to his fate quickly sprung into her mind. He was, after all, a prisoner of the Deatheaters. Of Lord Voldemort. That was his fate.

But he had saved her life. Saved her sight and kept her safe. Surely she owed him something for that.

And that's all it was, she firmly told herself. Obligation. A debt to repay.

Nothing more.

Katlin quickly moved Sier back in the cell until he was sitting with his back to the wall. She had never seen someone look so pale before. The man sat before her like a corpse. One that was struggling with every last ounce of strength left in it just to take each breath. The man was positively sucking air into his lungs. Likely there was probably more blood than air in them at that point.

Her assessing gaze quickly settled on the Blocker hung tightly about the man's neck. She tried several times to remove it, then finally used a releasing charm to get it off of him.

She gave his cheek a light slap. Anything to try and get a response.

"Come on, Sier." she whispered at him. "I need your help. I need to know how to get you out of here. Get you back to your home."

A soft sound echoed her. "Home."

"Yes." She eagerly encouraged him. "Home. How did I get you home? Where is that?"

The man seemed to take a stabilizing breath. One that rattled all the way down into his lungs. But the one word he gained by that didn't make any sense to her at all.

'Bo.' Was the best she could make out. But she didn't have long to try and sort it out. Without warning the stone walls about her wavered, and then vanished. An abruptly she found herself suddenly in the entranceway of a house. Two large gray stone pillars sat at the base of a staircase.

Instantly she became aware again of the man beside her. He was now on his back, trying desperately to roll himself over as he struggled to pull himself up to his knees. She tried to help, but he soon lost the battle and collapsed back to the hard stone floor with a moan of pain.

So who did one call to doctor a doctor?

Katlin was racking her brain for what to do when the man laying next to her moaned again. But this time it was more of a word than just a sound of pain. He said the word a bit sharper. Enough for her to make it out this time.

"Bo."

Before Katlin had time to wonder what the word meant, a tower of black material appeared next to them. The figure descended on the man next to her, all but shoving Katlin out of its way as the man's body all but disappeared into the layers of black material as the figure let out an anguished wail from under its hooded head. As she watched, a pale, blood covered hand reached up and placed itself against the creature's chest. Over several rasping coughs, the man spoke several soft words to it, which seemed to calm the creature down considerably as it listened attentively to what he said. After a few moments, the creature pulled back and with slow, careful movements, helped the man unsteadily to his feet keeping him nearly obscured from view as he wrapped the black cloaked material about the shaking body.

Katlin tried desperately to help as well, but the man gently eased her back.

"Let him handle this." He told her past several strained breaths. "Stay or leave. Whatever you wish."

And with that Katlin suddenly found herself standing in the foyer alone. The words under other circumstances might have sounded a bit harsh they were so short and sharp. But Katlin knew the effort it took for him to say anything at all, let alone group words together. He was only giving enough to get his point across. Minimum effort was the best he could manage.

Turning to where he had been laying, Katlin noticed the tiles of the foyer were now smeared with blood. A frightening testimony to the last few minutes. Katlin pulled out her wand and quickly removed any trace of the blood. She didn't want to have to look at it.

Unsure of what else to do, she finally seated herself on one of the foyer benches and waited.

For what seemed like hours to him Orion passively allowed the boggart to poke and prod and do what he could to make even just a little of the pain go away. But not overly much to his surprise, when the boggart finally pulled back and stood silently next to the bed, it didn't hurt nearly as much to take a breath and a considerable amount of the pain was indeed gone.

With a relieved sigh Orion gratefully let his body sink into the mattress beneath him. It actually felt good now to have the cool sheets beneath his skin.

A wave in the air next to him attracted his attention. The boggart made a series of gestures, to which Orion finally gave a tired nod.

"I'm much better now, Bo. You did very well."

The black robes descended on him as the boggart gave a soft trill as he enveloped the man in his arms.

Orion gave a small smile as he let the boggart nearly smother him. Bo was a three-year-old in ever sense of the word. And more than ever in how he expressed himself.

But slowly Orion attempted to push the boggart back as something nudge him in the back of his mind.

Katlin! Where was she? Bo had left her in the foyer the last he remembered.

Orion gave another tired sigh as he turned back to the boggart as it pulled back.

"Bo." He asked past a slight cough. "The woman who came here with me? Did she stay or leave?"

"The 'woman'," a soft voice from the end of the bed answered him, "chose to stay."

Orion turned his attention to the voice.

Standing at the end of the bed, Katlin was watching the proceedings with a bemused smile.

A small smile managed to show itself over cracked and swollen lips. "And the man is very happy she did." Orion barely replied.

He watched with pure pleasure as she moved about to the side of the bed and gracefully seated herself on the edge.

"How are you feeling?"

"Like I've been tortured half to death in a Deatheater prison."

A gentle smile rewarded his effort to get out the whole sentence. "Well, you'll be pleased to know that would be correct then." She answered.

Orion winched slightly against an unexpected sharp pain in his shoulder.

He half expected her to jump back, but instead Katlin reached forward and laid her hand against his shoulder with a slight pressure. Almost instantly the pain disappeared.

Katlin noted his surprised look as he gingerly tested the shoulder.

"My mother was a healer." She told him quietly. She fell silent for a moment as she pulled back, sitting now straight backed with her hands resting in her lap. "It's been ages since I've used my gift. And I'm not very good with it anymore even. I healed a few of your cuts. A few bruises. But that was all Icould do."

Orion gave her a small smile. "Feel free to practice on me all you want." He answered. "Because the walking laundry pile behind you isn't that good either."

A slight huff answered his comment as the material in front of Bo's face wavered slightly on the breath.

Orion sank back into the bed with a soft sigh, then slowly opened his eyes as he looked around him.

"How did I even get here?" He asked finally, closing his eyes again.

"Don't you know?" Katlin asked, genuinely confused.

Orion shook his head. "I don't remember much."

"You were in the cell, in the lair, when I first saw you. I thought for a moment you were dead. You certainly looked it."

Orion looked around again. "But how did I get here?"

Katlin brushed a stray bit of hair back from his face. A touch Orion simply bask in the feeling of.

"I don't know myself really." Katlin told him. "I found you in the cell."

Orion opened one un-swollen eye and looked at her. "You did?"

"I knew Johnathan had a prisoner." She explained. "By regulations, you should have been turned over to me first. I am Voldemort's chief interrogator. But Johnathan did everything he could to keep you hidden. I wanted to see what he considered so valuable he was hiding it from everyone else."

"You would have been more fun." Orion choked out.

"How can you joke about this?" She cried. "Do you understand? They were going to kill you. They almost succeeded."

"And you're a Deatheater." Orion reminded her. "Why did you care?"

"I told you. Johnathan was hiding something. I wanted to know what it was."

"So you found out. Why not just leave me?"

Katlin paused before answering, one that went on longer than she intended as she searched for an answer she wanted to give him.

"You saved my life once." She answered finally. "I felt it was fair to return the favor."

Unexpectedly Katlin suddenly found herself grabbed behind the neck and pulled into a kiss she would have bet anything she had the man wasn't capable of and was equally sure cost him severely in pain. But as she slowly pulled back, a warm smile was all that greeted her.

"Now again," he asked quietly, "why did you bother saving me?"

Katlin searched as best she could for the words to answer him, but finally gave up as she instead slipped willingly back into him arms, her lips quickly finding his again in an equally gentle but passionate kiss.

For the next several days Orion simply bask in the sheer pleasure of Katlin's very capable care. As the time went by, she grew more and more confident of her lost ability and she soon was managing very advanced heal spells on him, all designed to lessen his pain as much as possible.

She would leave for periods of time, explaining she had to check in at the lair and see what was going on. After all, a highly prized prisoner had escaped without explanation as to how. Voldemort was bound to be looking for anything suspicious to point to a guilty party. Her not being there would be just what he was looking for.

While Katlin was gone for a few hours each day, Orion was forced to submit himself to the care of his house elves and Bo. The boggart, while never seeming to do much, Orion knew was doing everything he could to heal the injuries to his body. Spending several hours a day by his bed, Orion could feel what healing magic the boggart knew working to mend what damage it could. Coupled with Katlin's work, the two were doing a remarkably good job of mending him.

That first day Katlin had left, Charly had come by. By pure luck they didn't manage to cross paths.

Charly had been as happy as Katlin had been to see his partner alive. A flurry of questions and resisting offers and demands to take him to St. Andrews had left Orion so worn out that by the time Katlin arrived back that night he was sound asleep and didn't wake again until the next morning. But Orion had used Charly's visit to send messages back to the Department. Assuring everyone he was all right. He also had Charly severely downplay the extent of his injuries. All he needed or wanted was time alone. Bo and Tets were taking perfect care of him. All he really wanted was just peace and quiet.

After that first visit, Orion left strict orders with Bo that he was only to have one visitor in his room at a time, no matter the circumstances.

That would preclude Charly and Katlin ever accidentally bumping into each other. Something he just wasn't up to at the moment.

As for Katlin's visits, Orion made sure Bo understood she was not to have free run of the house as before. She was to be watched very carefully and kept in certain areas only. Every possible picture of himself or any member of his family were removed. Every possible precaution was taken to ensure that not even the smallest clue remained to expose the truth behind the lie he was living.

Katlin did her best to keep everything as peaceful and ordered around Sier as she could. But back at the lair things were far from peaceful or ordered. They were, in fact, highly suspicious to her. She expected Voldemort to be all but cursing people in the corridors in his search for the guilty party that had helped the prisoner escape. At the very least she had expected Johnathan's ire to be raised. The prisoner had been in his custody. But to her surprise, Voldemort seemed utterly unaware anything at all was amiss. And Johnathan didn't seem eager to bring the matter up. All in all, there wasn't so much as a word mentioned of the escape.

But Katlin found she didn't have long to ponder the situation.

Although Johnathan's visit came as no real surprise to her, that hadn't kept her from dreading it just the same. Mentally she had been ticking off the days. He had given her one month to prepare for their wedding. And that time was almost up. It was inevitable he would bring it up again as the time approached. Especially when Katlin herself seemed to be doing close to nothing to prepare for the blissful day.

"Katlin, we need to talk." Johnathan announced as he all but barged into her room one late afternoon at the lair. In truth Katlin was just finishing up her time at the lair and was eager to get on her way back to check on Sier. Every day brought with it one single motivating factor in her life now. To complete what she had to during the day and get back to the nearly ravenous affection that was waiting for her return.

With each passing day Sier's condition was improving, and tonight she was hoping to spend some time with him as more than just his nursemaid. He was up to the point that it seemed he was always attempting to cop a feel if she ever got too close. Some small intimate grab that she was evading less and less these days. Each one only serving to arouse her that much more, then failing to deliver any relief for her own growing needs.

The man had definitely been playing with fire the last few days.

But tonight she had promised him a soothing therapeutic massage that she planned would leave him anything but 'soothed'.

And now Johnathan seemed determined to delay her that much longer.

"How dare you!" She fired back at him in irritation. "How dare you barge into my rooms as though I were some lower ranking person."

Johnathan met her attack with a nearly genuine smile. "Katlin, our wedding is in just a few days. We need to be making plans."

"Plans?" Katlin stated in disbelief. "It's a wedding, Johnathan. Not a covert mission. There is very little that needs planning."

"Very little?" He asked in astonishment. "Katlin, it is our wedding. We need to have plans for it.'

Katlin aimed herself for the door, brushing past the man attempting to block her path.

"Then make them." She stated. "I am sure whatever you decide will be acceptable."

Johnathan barely managed to grab hold of her as she pushed past him. "Where are you going to?" He asked.

Katlin turned about and met his stare with a hard, cold one of her own. "What business is that of yours?"

"As your future husband, a great deal." Johnathan stated, but quickly softened his tone. "It's late, Katlin. I'm concerned where you might be going."

Katlin didn't bother to return the smile or the false sentiment behind it. "I'm going to see a friend." She didn't lie. "A sick friend."

Johnathan had to practically physically restrain himself from pressing her further. He had come with one end in mind. To make sure she wasn't going to get out of the wedding. To remind her of how short the time was and assess if she was trying to manipulate anything as a way out of it. But here she was presenting him with something new. He bit back the almost painful need to try and find out where she was going, and replaced his questions with a simple smile.

"When will you be back?" He asked.

"Tomorrow."

Johnathan didn't try to hold on as she wrenched her arm out of his grasp and all but stormed out the door.

She had gotten her dig in at him, and it had been quite successful. She had told him nothing concrete, but had raised his suspicions to a fever pitch. She wasn't retuning to the lair until tomorrow. It could be a perfectly innocent statement. She was going to see her friend, then go home.

But he doubted it.

More likely she was returning to the lair tomorrow because she was never leaving her friend's house that night.

Fortunately for him there was no one in the hall when he left Katlin's room. Or perhaps better, fortunate for anyone else in the lair. Johnathan was at that point just looking for someone to vent his frustration on. But lacking a target, he simply stormed off down the corridor. Eventually, inevitable, he would come across someone.

Katlin hurried down the corridor. Not simply because she was running late getting to see Sier, but she didn't want to risk Johnathan following her.

The man was getting far too possessive.

Katlin's hurried steps paused at the thought and she found herself suddenly redirecting her path into a side corridor.

A few days!

How was she going to get out of this. Johnathan was pressing the issue this time. She wouldn't be able to simply side step the matter again. He was staying on her like a bloodhound. Not letting her forget.

Maybe she could go to Voldemort. Maybe he would listen to her. The marriage was a bad idea. Johnathan didn't love her. He loved her position. Her power. Voldemort was going to condemn her to something worse than she could ever imagine.

Katlin sighed quietly to herself. No. That wouldn't work. Voldemort wouldn't listen to her. If Johnathan was manipulating the situation as well as he was, backing her into a corner on things, then he had already presented his own case to Voldemort, who had found merit in it and given him the right to move forward with things.

More than likely she would be patted on her head and told she had cold feet and to go to bed and think things over.

At this point Voldemort would no more call off the wedding than Johnathan would.

How to stop it?

There had to be a way.

She wasn't desperate enough to just leave. That would be to give Johnathan his victory a thousand times over. Not only would he finally get what he wanted out of this whole facade, but he would have managed in the process to run her off as well. And she would never abandon her people simply because of an unpleasant situation. She had stood beside them in battles were the odds were no doubt against them. She would walk up to an altar if she had to to prove her loyalty to them.

No. There had to be another way.

Something permanent. She didn't want just another excuse to delay things. This answer had to be permanent. It had to last. It had to stand up on its own against Johnathan's ire once he learned she had managed to find some way to stop him for good this time.

But what? What short of her own death could stop him now?

Katlin smiled to herself. That was what Kristen had always interpreted marriage as in her opinion. Death. The younger woman had always firmly stated she would never marry. No man was worth that in her eyes.

Katlin had felt much the same way back then. That had been her main drive at first in evading Johnathan's proposal. She simply didn't want to get married. But quickly she had seen the man for what he was, and her dislike for the institution was quickly replaced by her abhorrence to the man himself.

And now it seemed she was going to be tied to him for the rest of her life. Unless she thought of a solution soon.

Katlin sighed again. Sier was going to be asleep before she got there at this rate.

She would have to put her problems to rest for now and think about them later. Best to focus on the moment instead.

Or better, then night ahead.

Katlin checked the corridor several yards in either direction with her wand before stepping out of her alcove and hurried for the entrance to the lair so she could disapparate. From there she would go to a location where she had a portkey waiting for her that she used in emergencies when she wanted to make sure she couldn't be followed. It would take her to another location, where she would apparate to one more area where Sier had placed a portkey for her to use to get to his house.

She never questioned him on where the house actually was. She didn't much care. All that matter to her at the moment was that she could get there.

Katlin quickly found her thoughts slipping more and more onto the path of what lay ahead for her that night. Sheer bliss, wrapped in the arms of a man she had only know for a few weeks. One who obviously loved her. Proved it to her every night she was with him. From the first night she had spent with him. One who the next morning had................!

Katlin skidded to a halt.

What had Sier said to her the first time she had stayed the night with him? What had he said that morning before she left?

Katlin's mind worked furiously over the scene again, pulling the fragmented memory of conversation they had had from her mind.

A small smile began to creep over her lips.

She needed a solution to her problem with Johnathan.

A permanent one.

What had Sier said to her that morning? What had his words alluded to? What had he offered her?

'It never had to end.'

That was what he had said. It never had to end if she didn't want it to.

Katlin abruptly started down the corridor again, this time all but running to get out of the lair as quickly as possible.

She had an escape.

She had a permanent escape from Johnathan.

How could the man marry her.........if she were already married.

Orion laid in his bed staring intently at the ceiling. He was up to the 3500's in small dots he had managed to count up there to take his mind off of Katlin's impending visit. She had made a nearly down right lewd offer of a therapeutic massage the last time she had left, promising him he had never had anything like the one she would give him on her next visit...unless he had paid extra.

The tantalizing idea had kept him occupied all day as various possibilities treated him to one erotic fantasy after another. And the longer she took in getting there that night, the more frayed his nerves were getting.

But finally he heard the door open downstairs and with great anticipation counted each step as she came up the stairs and down the corridor towards his room.

When she finally came in the door, he greeted her with open arms and an enthusiastic "Ready!"

But his enthusiasm quickly waned as it met with a very stoic Katlin, who entered the room and slowly walked over to his bed.

"What's wrong, Love?" He asked as he watched her set her things on the chair near the foot of his bed.

Katlin turned to him with such a forced smile it was all he could do not to call her on it.

"Nothing's wrong, Sier." She replied in an equally forced, calm voice. "Some days are just longer than others. Today was a very long day."

Orion favored her with a small smile as he held his hand out to her, which she gratefully took and let him easily lead her over until she sat by his side on the bed.

"I'm sorry your day wasn't better." He told her. "Tell me what I can do to help."

Katlin gave him a small, sad smile. "I'm suppose to be here to help you." She replied.

"So this is pay back. What's wrong?"

One thing Orion had noted early on since he was back with Katlin, was that in this new relationship, she was much more relaxed. Much more open with him. No matter how he had tried to ignore it before, she was always just a little guarded against him. Seemingly never 100% sure of things...or of him. But now she was more relaxed and at ease than he had ever known her to be.

Except for tonight.

Her answer was far from anything he expected.

"Sier, you asked me once why I was with the Deatheaters. Do you remember that?"

Orion nodded slightly. "You said it was for the security they offered you."

"And you said you could give me that same security."

Orion felt his breath get lost somewhere in his throat. Where was she planning to go with this? But he quickly mentally shook the thought off. He was letting his mind wander too much.

"You also said that night was all there was too it." He reminded her gently.

"And you said it didn't have to be."

Orion felt his mouth go suddenly dry, and his mind took off wandering again down one of its favorite paths. "And it doesn't." He whispered.

A small smile crept across her lips as she stared down at him. "That's a very lofty promise, doctor. How do you plan to keep that?"

All that he ever loved in her Orion could still see in those eyes. Wrapping a hand up under her hair, he pulled her down to him and placed a soft, gentle, loving kiss on her lips.

"Marry me." He whispered.

The answer caressed his lips before she placed her's over them again.

"Yes."

Q&A

nessie:

No, no, Dear. Not 130 words a minute. 130 words a minute off the top of my head. If you put a paper in front of me with words on it and say, 'Type that', I promptly fall to about 35. But if I have a scene in my head and I want to type it out, then 130 words a minute. With multiple errors, I will admit.

Long hair will get me every time. You'll notice most of my male characters sport a nice mane of long hair. Just something about it.

The character you're describing, Dear, sounds like Gambit of the X-Men. Used to enjoy that story, until it started getting incredibly dark. But PAR also liked Gambit very much. Something about the accent.

One thing you'll note in most of these stories is my male characters have an almost un-natural attachment to their hair. And if there is ever a Sirius/Baby Harry story, I guarantee the kid is going to get a handful of it at some point.

Silverfox:

Don't get me wrong, Dear. I love long reviews. It's like PAR getting to read a little story in return.

And clocking in at 21 pages, I hope you have something to say about this one.

Especially with all the nice continuity errors PAR handed out this time. If you can't find them then I'm doing a better job of covering my arse than I thought.

Let's face it, Dear. Our boy isn't thinking too far into the future. And after this chapter's ending, I think he's hit a record short time frame. He's just agreed to marry a woman he is one; lying to, two; has under a memory charm, three; is lying to, four; hasn't even told her his last name, and last but not least, five; is lying to. Now, what do you think poor Katlin is going to do if she ever remembers who he actually is?

Sure! Send that cyber chocolate right on down the pike. PAR loves chocolate, so her computer must like it too.

What could Sirius do to Harry if left alone with him? You're fishing in the wrong pond, Dear. And no, not a werewolf or a vampire.

Hmmmm, now there's an interesting question to ponder. Which of the Black brother's is the more rash? Sirius or Orion? Tough question that. Although I will say that ever since fatherhood walked up and slapped Orion in the face, he's gotten much better.

Men...more logical.....? Phffffffffffffft!

Hey! That sounds like where I work, technical-wise. Most things are referred to simply as Pointing at object 'That thing over there'. If you need a more detailed explanation? 'Its that thing over there that does that stuff'. More detailed? 'Its that thing over there that does that stuff when you enter that code'. Everyone in PAR's workplace nods knowingly

I believe we came up with the word 'child' as to not have to call them a 'person'.

Well, Katlin described the family best. "You're an Auror. Your brother is an Auror. Your father is an Auror. Your mother is an Auror. You come from a long line of aurors." But Arianna Black is an interesting woman. She's kind of a 'Mother-Earth' figure....when there's a hurricane brewing. Let's face it, what sort of woman would you have to be to be married to Talon? And the mother of two sons like Sirius and Orion?

Lays head on the desk Just because, Dear.

OK, seriously, you have to look at the Power from a lot of angles sometimes. True, the power has not split yet. What is split is it's potential. And, no, Sirius hasn't 'tapped into' the Power yet. But he has the potential, Dear, and that was what was spilt between the two brothers. And that small little thing means a great deal when trying to tap into the full potential of the Power. Orion, as a channeler but not a host, can not tap completely into the Power because all of that ability did not transfer to him. Part of it went to his brother. It is also the main reason Orion can't be a host. He hasn't got all the right parts, so to speak. I hesitate to say its a 'gene thing', Dear. Especially since the Power will recognize 'non-genetic' family members (Bo). But the Power recognized Bo because it's host allowed it to, or, more accurately, 'told' it to. It does not recognize Orion or his brother as a potential host because neither of them has everything it is looking for. That is what Talon did by having two sons. He deprived the Power of one full-blooded male family member. Now the question comes up, what would happen if Orion and Sirius were willing to work together to manipulate the Power? This comes up in, and is a large part of the plot, of Family Relations.

"WAIT! WAIT!" Hand goes up in the back "You said last time the power would recognize Sirius as a potential host. Now you're saying he can't be a host at all."

Shut up and sit down!

OK, true, the Power would recognize Sirius as a potential host. But he could never use the Power effectively. That's very important to the over-all story. He can never yield the power effectively without Orion's help. The fact the Power would recognize him means very little. It recognizes people coming down the hall too, folks. But it would recognize them as 'family', 'non-family', or 'potential'.

Hand goes up again "Ummmmm, you indicated last time that Harry could be a host if the Power recognized him. How is that possible based on what you just said?"

Because I'm the author. Shut up and sit down.

Actually, I said something there I shouldn't have. Little tooooooooo much information this early in the game.

Now, Dear, is any of this helping? Or am I just confusing you more?

Orion's parents love him very much. They kinda question his reasoning skills sometimes. But they love him.

My, my, my, but someone has put an awful lot of thought into that next part.

Voldemort's assumptions? Ohhhhh, all right (). I'll give you a gold star for that. You were right on almost every point. And the part you were wrong on was minor. Voldemort, in fact, knows very little about the Power itself. The rest you had pretty much spot on. Oh, and there are no 'records' here, sorry. This is pretty much an 'observation only' class. It isn't like the Blacks keep journals about this thing.

No one knows about Bo outside of the family, Dear, except Charly and, sort of, Katlin. And neither of them really knows all there is to Orion's enigmatic boggart. Trust me, old Bo still has a few tricks up his sleeve. And he's not as harmless as he seems. Nor as innocent.

OK. Another thing to straighten out. Lets time line this thing. Currently, we are just about at the time when the stuff hits the fan, folks. Now, Orion and Charly are already Unspeakables. Unspeakables came into being in the war with Voldemort. A war we are told very little about, except that it seemed to come to a rather abrupt end with Voldemort's defeat by little baby Harry. Hence, this war before that time must have been an ongoing thing. Or so I figure. So I look at it this way. Severus was working for Voldemort, he stopped, he is now working for Dumbledore. A bit ahead of things? Maybe. But we were never told when Snape stop being a Deatheater and came to work for Dumbledore. Or at least, not that I recall. Feel free to mess things up for me.

How many parties are involved in this? PAR thinks for a minute Three.

How many parties think they are involved in this? Seven.

How many parties are involved in this and don't even know it, despite they are the main reason for the whole mess to begin with? One.

OK. Points for you and points for me here. True, it is very likely, having gotten his son out of Slytherin amid threats of turning a certain hat into window washing rags, Talon was not keen on letting his little pride and joy use the first wand. Point for your side.

Orion would have indeed gotten his first wand before he went to school. But he also became Bo's channeler before they went to Diagon Alley. And Orion was pouring his poor little eleven year old 'but I've never been away from home before for this long' heart out to his friend sometime after he got his acceptance letter and before they went shopping for school supplies. So he was a channeler before he got his first wand. Not something you would have known, but hey! Tough! Point for my side.

Bo isn't exactly 'in his head', Dear. In fact, Bo knows very little of what goes on with Orion unless Orion calls him, as evidenced in this chapter. The person Bo is constantly connected to is his host, Talon. Or he was, until Talon gave him a body of his own. Remember that the Power was passed on 'from host to host'. So it had to be a physical part of its host.

OK. The wand thing really is a lot more complicated than I care to go into right now. But know these facts to simply be true.

1. Orion has his original wand. That is the one he uses.

2. Charly has Orion's second wand.

3. Orion's first wand is more closely connected to Bo. And there's a really good reason for that, which goes back to the question, when the sorting hat sorted Orion into Slytherin, who was it sorting? Orion or Bo?

4. Lastly, if I said differently, I apologize. But Charly does NOT draw his magic off of the Power. Not directly. He draws off of Orion, which was stated in the story itself.

Keep in mind, Orion is just a channeler, not a host. He can call on the Power, he can even use it. What he can not do is control it.

Yes, Dear, you do seem to like thinking about Sevi.

Skahducky:

Don't assume, dear. It can be dangerous.

now with that said, let's 'suppose' Katlin gets her memory back. Folks, this is a scene I would love to write. Orion, Katlin, and Dumbledore in a room. Dumbledore removes the memory charm, then quickly exits the room, slamming and locking the door behind him.

Bo himself could likely not come up with anything as frightening as what that man would be facing from down the business end of a wand. No less than 67 different emotions, and not one of them good.

HA! FINALLY I'm ahead of you guys!

Got this all covered.

Yes indeed, Katlin sees 'someone' in her dreams. But it was stated in the story the face of the person was never clear. Believe me, the point you just made is why it was written that way.

However, this brought up ANOTHER problem along similar lines. Katlin knows she had an 'affair' with an Auror, that to her was no more than a mission she was completing. She knows it was with Orion Black. She couldn't block that out because, due to Johnathan's interference, too many people knew and someone may inadvertently mention it in front of her. But she views it with an 'Well, that was fun' attitude, as she does most of her missions she must take to that level of intimacy to get what she wants out of the person. She knows what Orion Black looks like.

Trust me, some VERY serious fast footwork was needed to get around this. It is, in fact, the whole reason Capture was even written.

How did I get around this?

First off, the first time Orion saved Katlin was in Control-Part One. And yes, she clearly saw him. That started my whole problem, you see.

The second time, she never saw him. Someone deflected a spell aimed at her. But she never saw who.

The third time was in the restaurant, and Johnathan kept her from getting a good look at him, as did Charly.

The next time Katlin got a good look at him, he had changed his appearance by changing his hair length. Trust me. That makes a BIG difference. Especially if you're not trying to make the connection.

After that, he kept his hair short whenever he saw her to perpetuate the illusion he was someone else.

In this chapter, Treaks made it permanent.

If you go Continuity Error hunting in the chapters Thirty through Forty-One, I'm sure you'll find some based on this one subject. But I'm warning you, I have my trusty Acme Loophole Starter Kit right here by my computer.

What are Charly and Johnathan exactly suppose to be doing? I wondered when someone was going to ask this question. The sad part is, I can't really tell you much more than I already have. So, simply to reiterate, their goal in life is to keep Orion alive. (Believe it or not.) Now granted, Charly is a little more dedicated to this goal than Treaks, but Treaks sort of has his own agenda, and working for the wizard in the north just kinda fits into his plans right now. But trust me, keeping Orion alive is the stepping stone of a much grander plan.

And yes, they do spy on their respective sides for the wizard in the north. But the whole reason for that Katlin laid out in Chapter Fifteen. If you have three parties in a war, how do you win? You get two of them to fight. How do you get them to do the most damage to each other? Keep the playing field level.

Why are they working together? You consider their relationship working together? Well, in all fairness, they're suppose to be. But for all his bravado, poor Charly really is a bit naive in this respect. Treaks works with him when it suits him. Other than that, as I said, Treaks has his own agenda.

All reviews are as of 05122004.

And remember:

Bobbitt Tavern - Have a few too many and we'll cut you off.