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Chapter Twenty-Four—Consequences

Not talking to Orion for three days was unexpectedly hard.

Harry hadn't thought it would be. After all, Orion had inserted himself into Harry's life after ignoring him for weeks. It hadn't been Harry's idea to speak to him, or to stand up against Riddle and try to free the Knights. Maybe it should have been, but it hadn't. So Harry should have been relieved when Orion shut up and backed off.

But it was difficult to just let his eyes skip past Orion in classes or the Great Hall. Hard to help Alphard Black with homework and not turn around to look into the distant corner of the common room where Orion sat while Alphard talked about some prank Orion had played on the Gryffindors a year ago. Hard to keep his mouth shut when he heard a few people speculating loudly about the kind of future standing Orion might have with Riddle when he'd turned on him so firmly.

So when he sat down next to Orion in the Great Hall at the end of the third day, he said, "Could you pass the butter, Orion?" with a feeling of relief.

Orion turned around with a smile. Harry smiled back. It seemed that the punishment had done what it was supposed to do, and showed Orion that Harry wouldn't tolerate him trampling all over other people to secure Harry's "rights."

"Sure, Harry," Orion said, still smiling, and pushes the butter towards him. "By the way, I have a letter I want you to look over before I send it to my father. Do you want to do that after breakfast?"

Harry paused in the middle of buttering his toast and looked at Orion. What the hell was this? But he waggled his fingers for Orion to pull out the letter and give it to him, because this probably had to be dealt with now, before it turned into some Big Deal.

The letter was written on a creamy parchment that Harry supposed was the kind of thing all prim purebloods used. The thought caused a small grin to cross his face before he read the first few lines.

Dear Father,

You will be happy to know that I have followed two pieces of advice you gave me at the same time. I have found a lord who will lead me and value me, not disdain me or see me only as a servant. And I have found my future spouse, in much the same way you found Mother in your fourth year.

They are the same person. I am intending to court Harry Potter, a sixth-year Slytherin who joined Hogwarts this term, if he grants me permission. I hope you will be able to meet him soon and see both his power and his kindness. I always knew that kindness was a trait I would look for in my husband or wife, but hardly dared hope for from a lord.

It is early days yet. I know you will say that. But you found your love in Mother at a young age, and I hope that you won't forbid me from finding the same thing. And I know that he might not grant me permission to court or marry him.

But I am sending this because I hope, with every particle of my magic, that he does.

Love,
Your son Orion.

Harry stared at the letter, and stared at it, but the words didn't change, and he really didn't think Orion was the sort of prankster Sirius had once been, to write a letter like this when he didn't mean it. He choked.

"Are you out of your mind?" Harry hissed, leaning towards Orion and waving the letter around so hard it almost hit Orion in the face. He refused to acknowledge the warmth bubbling through him. He couldn't feel it, not when there was every chance that he would disappear from this world someday and wake up in his. "Are you—you have to be out of your mind! You're really going to write to your father and say that you're going to marry some half-blood Slytherin who just showed up this year?"

"Yes," Orion said, and he looked smug and very punchable. "He'll understand. It was like this for him with my mother, too."

"Your mother's a half-blood?"

"You focus a lot on blood status for someone to whom it purportedly doesn't matter."

Harry didn't have anything to say, and barely escaped putting the letter in the butter on his toast. He concentrated on that to ignore the warmth that just kept growing.

You once thought that no one would ever value you or want to date you for anything other than your being the Boy-Who-Lived, whispered the warmth. Here is someone who does.

"You can't just say that you're going to marry me!"

Harry clung to those words. They were the truth, no matter what he felt or what Orion felt. They would remain the truth no matter what Orion's father had to say on the matter, in fact.

Harry could not feel flattered and bedazzled that someone would want to marry him just for things he had done in this time. He could not. It wasn't fair to Orion when Orion didn't know a thing about Harry's real past.

Except that he knows you're a Potter. And were raised by Muggles. And that you don't want to be a lord or practice Dark Arts but you'll stand up to Riddle. That you fit only uneasily into Slytherin. That—

Harry cut his thoughts off. Those were not the kinds of things that someone could build a married life on.

"Well, no, not when I haven't asked you," Orion agreed, jolting Harry back to the present. "Would you like me to court you, Harry? Or not court you?"

Harry opened his mouth to deny it, and froze. That wasn't the truth. But he couldn't tell the truth, not the ultimate truth that Orion would really deserve to know if he was courting Harry. But he couldn't bring himself to give up the only chance he might ever get at a relationship with someone who wanted Harry for being himself, either.

"You could give me an answer, you know," Orion said, putting his chin in his hand and fluttering his eyelashes at Harry for a moment. Harry's brain caught on that and kind of choked him. "You don't have to say that you're going to marry me right on the spot, but courting? One way or the other? Yes or no, Harry."

Harry looked at Orion and had the feeling he was probably giving away a lot more than he wanted in that look. But he couldn't help it. The daydream, the fantasy, was being dangled in front of him, and the shine of it was slowly overwhelming more practical considerations.

Orion slowly leaned in. His eyes were so bright. Harry couldn't look away from him, but he was thinking of the way Orion sometimes looked at him, and the way he had gone after Charlus (for all the stupidity that had contained), and the words he had written in the letter.

And I know that he might not grant me permission to court or marry him.

But I am sending this because I hope, with every particle of my magic, that he does.

"Yes?" Orion asked, quiet but persistent. "Or no?"

Harry closed his eyes and averted his face. He became aware that he was gripping his fork hard enough to dent his palm. He tried to say something about how Orion was crazy, but what came out of his mouth was mumbles and swear words.

The shine of the daydream grew brighter in his head. He could accept it. Orion would never deny him.

He still didn't think it was the right thing to do.

But the word "no" refused to come out of his mouth.

"Yes?" Orion whispered. "Or no?"

Harry stood up. He had to get out of here—he had to leave—he had to—

But in the end, the shine of the daydream won. He had never had this. He would probably never have it again. And he would stop it before it went too far. He would make sure that Orion wasn't hurt and that he had forgotten about Harry by the time Harry found a way back to his own time.

He leaned in and whispered, "Yes." He thought the word should be as private, as much for Orion's ears as his letter had been for Harry's eyes.

Then he grabbed a scone, buttered it with a wandless flick of his fingers, and left at high speed. He could feel Orion's eyes on him. He could hear the table bursting into talk. It didn't matter.

Harry leaned against the wall behind the staircase up to the first floor and breathed.

Perhaps he had made a mistake. But he had changed so much already. And the promise of the future they could have burned in him like a jewel too dazzling to let fall.

"Okay, so why have like fifteen people come to stare into our compartment?" Harry demands when the Hogwarts Express has been in motion for about an hour.

Orion smiles at him over his book. He decided it couldn't hurt to catch up on Transfiguration, but honestly, he's spent most of the last hour staring at Harry. "You really don't know? Even with your political awareness of Slytherin?"

Harry frowns at him for a second, and then groans and claps a hand over his eyes. "You're not serious."

"From what you've told me, that was my son's name," Orion says, and Harry glares at him with one eye over the tips of his fingers. Orion gives in and laughs in delight. "No, Harry, of course they want to see the student who get Riddle arrested and fought him to a standstill. Rumors about what happened when we visited my family and the Potters are probably circulating as well."

"But I disbanded the Knights of Walpurgis!"

"How does that affect everything that happened after your duel with Riddle, even if it affects that?"

"I mean…" Harry seems at a loss for a moment. "Because that should have shown them I'm not interested in political power?"

Orion opens his mouth, then shuts it slowly. Some of the things that Harry said during the hols which puzzled him make sense now.

"Harry," he says, as gently as he can. "You have political power. What you do with it is up to you, of course. I can't force you to do something, and I would never want to. But you can't just ignore it and pretend it doesn't exist. It does."

"No, it doesn't."

Harry's jaw is set and his eyes blazing. Orion hasn't seen him have this strong a reaction to anything that isn't other people being hurt, but it's probably linked to what he's told Orion about his past life in his own time. Orion leans forwards gently and puts his hand on Harry's knee.

He does see a flicker out of the corner of his eye, but whoever it is stands outside the compartment and spies instead of coming in. And honestly, having someone else see and spread the rumor of his closeness with Harry can only do both of them good, Harry by showing that he's ensconced in the protection of the Black family and Orion because it shows that he's the confidant of this dazzlingly powerful man.

"Yes, it does," Orion says. "And you should manage it just enough to keep people from turning on you, if you don't want to do anything else with it. But that also means that you have to refrain from ignoring it."

"What kind of political power could I have, for God's sake?"

Orion might be worried about the Muggle reference at any other time, but probably the whole of Slytherin knows by now that Harry was raised by Muggles. Riddle would have spread it around to undermine him. Orion thinks the wonder is that Harry wears and wields his magic so well anyway.

"You stood up to someone who was seen as untouchable in our House," Orion says, and begins taking the points off on his fingers. "Political power inside Slytherin. You have at least two powerful families interested in you, mine because we're betrothed and the Potters because they owe you a life-debt. The Potters' power is more in Potions and ours is more in the Ministry, but still. Political power because of influence and favors owed. And finally, if you think your magic isn't power, you're mental."

Harry blinks and doesn't lash out. Orion finds himself relaxing. He knows Harry would never hurt him physically, but he did think they would have an argument on their hands.

"But if I paid those favors back…and married you, but—"

"If you think I will accept a less equal relationship because of your desire not to have power, Harry," Orion says, and lets the smile on his face die, "you are mental."

Harry blinks. "I didn't mean it like that."

"It sounded like it."

"No! I just meant…" Harry fumbles for words, and Orion lets him. He doesn't want Harry to treat their future marriage lightly, even if he's just doing it in words. Orion loves Harry, he truly does, but he has to assert some ideas and opinions of his own, or their marriage would flatten into a version of what slavery to Riddle was.

"I meant," Harry says, and takes a deep breath, "I don't want our marriage or my place in your family to become part of these power plays. I don't want to do that to you, and I don't want my marriage under scrutiny, the way it probably would have been—where I came from."

Orion relaxes. That makes a lot of sense, and isn't something he thought of right away, but of course Harry would have. "I understand, Harry, but it'll be part of the power plays to most people already. There will be people seeing if they can seduce you away from me, or me from you. There will be people who want revenge for Riddle and try to take it out on our bond. There will be Slytherins who try to separate us simply because they're bored."

Harry swallows, his eyes wide. "Fuck, I had no idea."

Orion nods. "I know. It's not exactly the kind of life I would have chosen either, if I had my absolutely free choice. But it's worth it for you, Harry."

"I would give up all the power that I have for you," Harry whispers. "If I could."

"But you need that power to protect me. So would you, really?"

"I mean—if I had my absolutely free choice. I would."

Orion nods, taking the gesture in the spirit it's meant. That he loves seeing Harry powerful and free and able to make other purebloods and Slytherins back down isn't something he needs to say to Harry right now. "Thank you, Harry."

Harry ducks his head and flicks a glance towards the door of the compartment. So he noticed whoever was standing there and spying on them earlier. Orion wondered. But the person must have left, because Harry says, "I love you."

Orion smiles and clasps Harry's hand, lifting it to his lips. He would go in for a snog, but the last thing he wants is some officious prefect finding a reason to scold them. "I love you," he echoes softly.

Harry smiles, and then settles back and reaches for his Transfiguration book.

"Are you going to admit that you're a half-blood?"

Selwyn's bray startles Orion. The one making it, Alfred Selwyn, is a fourth-year, and so both younger than they are and not someone who usually interferes in sixth-year politics. Orion glances around, collecting twitches and mutters, and sees that Avery and Lestrange and Walburga and Abraxas all look as startled as he is.

But there's one person sitting back near the fireplace who looks pleased instead, and Orion smiles thinly. That's Gregory Brown, a half-blood who had to fight for his place in Slytherin House and was being groomed by Riddle. He's probably upset that someone he counted on for protection is gone.

"I never denied it," Harry says, and pastes on an expression of confusion that even Orion would have a hard time telling from the genuine thing.

"But—you're a half-blood," Selwyn says, his eyes darting back and forth. He has a complexion almost as pale as Abraxas's, and he's flushing now and on the verge of wringing his hands.

Brown leans forwards, then retreats into the shadows again when he notices Orion staring at him. Orion just barely refrains from snorting. Yeah, when you try to embarrass someone powerful, you have to have competent allies to do the embarrassing.

"And like I said," Harry repeats, "I've never denied it."

"But you're engaged to a pureblood," Selwyn says, and now his eyes dart to Orion.

"Thank you for proving you can keep up with gossip," Orion says, and keeps his voice gentle and sincere. Selwyn is blinking harder and harder, and might actually reach up to scratch his head, but Brown decides to intervene, his voice piercing the muffled laughter of those watching him.

"Will your family accept him, Black?"

"Harry spent the holidays at Grimmauld Place," Orion says. "Yes, I know Mother and Father have accepted him."

Brown looks confounded. The giggles break out openly this time, and Selwyn turns red and runs towards the door—well, moves at a quick stride that he would probably not like people to take for running. Brown turns and snatches up a book from beside the chair.

"What was that about?" Harry mutters as he and Orion sit down in chairs between Abraxas and Avery.

"Their memories are dull because of the holidays," Abraxas says promptly. "Or they never interacted with you enough before to realize you have your own kind of power, and they think the only kind is the sort Riddle wielded. Don't worry, the challengers will become more competent as this goes on."

"Oh," Harry says, and his eyes dart to Orion.

Orion tilts his head, asking a silent question. Can you face up to this for me?

From the besotted smile Harry gives him, he didn't even need to ask the question. Content, Orion starts discussing a tricky Transfiguration point with Abraxas. He has his friends and allies around him and his fiancé at his side.

What more could he want?