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Chapter Twenty-Five—Standing

Harry walked into the Great Hall wondering if his plan to handle Riddle was really the best one he had ever come up with. On the one hand, he couldn't think of anything else, and being close to the other boy's trunk because they were in the same dorm room made everything much easier. On the other hand, this was—really big interference in the timeline.

If you were still worried about that, then you shouldn't have allowed Orion to court you.

"Harry!" Orion called. Harry looked up to see him standing at the Slytherin table and holding out what looked like a letter. "My father replied."

Harry took a deep breath. This was probably the end of his dream of letting someone court him, but that was for the best, he reminded himself for perhaps the sixteenth time. He couldn't interfere too much in the timeline. He still had to be able to go back to his own. He still had to let Sirius and Regulus be born.

"Really? What did he say?" Harry thought his voice was okay, calm and measured, but he didn't anticipate Orion holding out the letter to him.

"Judge for yourself."

Harry picked it up. He was breathing fast, and he hated it. Arcturus Black, Orion's father, wasn't someone he had ever met, and Sirius had barely mentioned him, either. What did it matter if he disliked Harry? What did it matter that he'd likely said no to the courtship? It didn't matter, and Harry was being ridiculous to let it matter.

The letter confirmed the courtship. It wished Orion luck in it, and said that Orion having found his lord and his spouse in the same person was—a good thing.

Arcturus Black is fine with letting his son court a random, no-name half-blood.

Harry lowered the letter and stared at Orion. Orion smiled back, and Harry realized that he probably looked overwhelmed. He did his best to pull himself together. His hanging out for Arcturus's approval was still ridiculous, and he shouldn't feel so happy about this. He shouldn't. He groped around for words and found something sufficiently distant from his emotions at the moment to say.

"I—you would invite me home with you for the holidays?"

"Of course. And Father said yes to the courting, obviously."

Harry looked back and forth from the letter to Orion, from Orion to the letter. He saw the way Orion looked worried, but he couldn't stop. Random thoughts danced in his head, everything from the fact that he had somehow made an impact here despite not being the Boy-Who-Lived to the fact that he was being invited home with someone for the holidays.

Harry felt himself smile.

He knew it was a pretty weird-looking smile, but from the enchanted way Orion was staring at him, he might not have noticed. Harry shifted his balance and cleared his throat. Then he realized he was still holding the letter and handed it back to Orion.

"I—yes, Orion, then," Harry says, and ran a hand through his hair. He could see Orion staring at him when he did that, and grimaced a little. He probably looked messed-up and not at all like the sort of person Orion wanted to marry or sleep with. "What do I—I don't know what comes next in courting. Do I have to get you a gift?" He hoped not. Professor Dumbledore had actually paid for Harry's books and robes and almost everything that wasn't actually the food in Hogwarts or the bed in Slytherin. Even Harry's quills and parchment had come from him.

"I get you a gift," Orion said, and if the look he was staring at Harry with wasn't actually reverence, you couldn't have proven that by Harry. "And you accept it, or not. You can get me presents if you want, but that can wait until you have the money."

"Oh."

Harry swallowed, and then jumped a little as he realized that half the Great Hall was staring at them. A fine spectacle you make, he thought, disgusted, and reached out to grab an apple and a scone. He didn't want to eat with everyone staring at him. He probably couldn't eat with everyone staring at him.

"Wait," Orion said, and grabbed Harry's wrist. Harry stared at his fingers and decided Orion couldn't possibly know how they seemed to sting Harry's skin like a branding iron. "Will you stay?"

"Everyone is staring." Harry tried to sound strong about that, but he couldn't help looking around. Yeah, the "everyone" included Walburga—who Harry still thought Orion should be marrying if they were going to have Sirius and Regulus, and still worried about interfering with—and Riddle.

"We have nothing to be ashamed of. And if you're going to be my husband, then we should get used to the staring. We're going to be the handsomest and most magically-powerful couple in the school, after all." Orion smiled at Harry, and looked as if he was ready to both accept the staring as his due and fight off half a dozen suitors for Harry's hand.

Not that there ever would be that many, in a world where I'm not famous.

But Orion had done so much for him, and was ready to do so much more. Harry couldn't retreat and just leave him there to take the brunt of the crowd. He smiled a little nervously and took the seat next to Orion.

It was difficult for him to respond during the conversation that followed, where Orion talked about homework, and essays, and spells they were learning, and ignored all the staring. Harry had to wonder if Orion just didn't care about it, or if he was hoping that this would show people Harry wanted to be with him, not them.

Harry stared at Orion and thought, Yes, I do want to be with you. And I almost don't care how long I'm going to be here or what it might cost me and others. You're what I hoped for and dreamed I'd never get.

"Why would I be summoned to the Headmaster's office?"

Harry is speaking relatively loudly, and frowning at the small note that swooped into the Slytherin common room on paper wings. Headmaster Dippet favors such things since it's difficult for him to get down all the stairs to the dungeons.

Orion winces at some of the speculative stares they're getting. Some of the Slytherins probably assume Harry is in trouble. Or it has something to do with Riddle and they've discovered some irregularity in how the bastard got arrested.

It would have been better for Harry to announce it quietly. But then again, some people might have overheard anyway and started to spread rumors, especially about why Harry decided to be quiet about this instead of loud. Could he be weak? Could he be trying to hide weakness?

Orion sighs. Slytherin politics are complicated.

"I don't know," Orion admits, standing up and reaching for Harry's wrist to pull him lightly to his feet. He does such things that will show he's still courting Harry and intends to be by his side always, but that won't make Harry look fragile in front of the others. "But we'll go right after breakfast."

"Since when do you trail after someone else, Black?"

That's Lucianna Malfoy, leaning forwards from her place near the fire. Orion just shakes his head a little at her. She wants to play politics, after years of ignoring them? She'll need a stronger sally than that.

"Better trailing after Harry than after Riddle," he says.

Lucianna's eyes narrow a bit, but they flick back and forth between him and Abraxas, who's standing up next to Harry, and she settles down. She nods. "Perhaps you're right. Better to choose true power than a bastardized version of it." She stands up and strides towards the door, casting a long glance back over her shoulder.

Orion doesn't realize what she's doing at first. Lucianna has never acted interested in him, and she wouldn't want to attract her cousin Abraxas's attention, not when they've irritated each other since they were children growing up together. But then he sees the way that she's tracking Harry's gaze, and understands.

A Malfoy has married a half-blood before, a memory says to him, something Abraxas stated last year when Orion teased him about his interest in a half-blood Ravenclaw.

Now, blinding fury sings through Orion's veins, and he really might do something about it, except that it's obvious Harry doesn't notice a thing. He's still frowning down at the note from Dippet. A second later, he sighs and tucks it away.

"I suppose we won't know until we go up there."

Harry starts towards the common room door. Lucianna has to keep going and exit herself, since she was heading that direction and she obviously doesn't want to reveal her stratagem to anyone. Her eyes are still narrow, and she's frowning.

Orion isn't afraid of her, though, the way he was Riddle. He catches her gaze and simply stares.

Lucianna's eyes travel behind him and Harry for a moment, alighting on something that Orion isn't going to turn to look at right now. Then a small smile crosses her face, and she nods and leaves without any more glances or tricks.

Orion risks a glance himself as soon as he's sure that she won't turn back around. He blinks when he realizes Abraxas, Avery, and Lestrange are all following them.

His eyes alight on Lestrange and narrow as he remembers that Xavier Lestrange presented a danger to Helena Potter. And to Harry.

Harry's hand tightens on Orion's arm before he can say anything about it. Orion blinks at him. Harry shakes his head and keeps walking, not looking over his shoulder, as he speaks in a gentle tone. "He also warned us about the attack at your family's party."

That much is true. Just because Lestrange's uncle chose to feud with the Potters doesn't mean that all of his family is tainted—any more than Orion's is because Cygnus decided to be an idiot and try to avenge Riddle.

So Orion nods and does keep walking. But he also resolves to keep an eye on Lestrange in case he does anything odd or signs show up that he's being pressured by his uncle.

Things don't have to be true. But Orion is going to be vigilant for enemies who will try to take Harry away from him, no matter which direction they're coming from.

"Ah, hello, Mr. Potter. I didn't anticipate you would have so many other people with you."

"Well, I didn't anticipate Professor Dumbledore would be here, sir. I think it's grand that we both have company."

Orion manages not to laugh as he watches the bland smile on Harry's face, and the even blander way he sits down in the chair across from Dippet's desk, but it's hard. Orion takes the chair next to Harry, and Abraxas, Avery, and Lestrange stand behind Harry's chair. Professor Dumbledore is standing next to Dippet.

His eyes are very grave as he watches them. Orion suspects that he's seeing a reflection of Riddle in Harry walking around with a bunch of followers, but if Dumbledore can't see that Harry is different from Riddle in every way and that this is just how Slytherin politics work, then Orion really can't help him.

Dippet leans forwards. "I received a note from Melania Black this morning, Mr. Potter, saying that you need to be excused from classes on a regular basis to attend sessions with a Healer."

Harry's eyes widen, and then he glances down at his blackened hand, the one with the missing fingers. He seems surprised. To tell the truth, so is Orion. Nothing with the Healer happened during the holidays, and he's almost got used to seeing Harry this say. Mother must have had more trouble than she thought arranging the Healer.

"I—well, yes, she did offer to help me find one," Harry says, an adorable flush climbing his cheeks. "She did?"

"Yes, she did," Dumbledore says, his eyes darting over the four of them again. "Mr. Potter, can you tell me why Melania Black would be interceding in such a private matter? I was under the impression that you had no contact with your birth family, and no contact with the Blacks, either."

"I spent the holidays with the Blacks, sir. And I'm courting Mrs. Black's son. I thought that would be obvious."

Orion bites his lip and stares up at the ceiling. Harry sounds adorably confused this time. Of course, he isn't truly. He's just coming up with a way to turn Dumbledore's strange question back on him.

Is there anyone in the school who doesn't know about my courtship of Harry? Even if they didn't know he spent the holidays at Grimmauld Place? I don't see how Dumbledore could be that oblivious.

"You may perhaps need to consider the cost of accepting favors from—"

"My lover's family?" Harry asks dryly. "Sir, I appreciate your concern, if you think that I'm being somehow bought with favors and used for politics. But that's not the case. Mrs. Black was kind and promised to help me. I just forgot the promise until now."

"How?" blurts Dippet.

"I got used to living with the way my hand is now."

Orion glares at Harry from the corner of his eye. He could believe that Harry forgot about it, with everything else that's been happening during their holidays, but he doesn't like the hollow, accepting tone in Harry's voice. That will not do.

Harry glares back, once, then nods and turns to face Dumbledore and Dippet. "I'll try to make sure that my class schedule isn't disrupted that much, professors."

"It's still an unusual request," Dumbledore says.

Orion has no doubt that Dumbledore would grant it in an instant for a student he liked. Those aren't all Gryffindors, either; Dumbledore isn't completely and blindly prejudiced like some of the professors were in Riddle's favor. But he still doesn't have any right to interfere in a Healer's treatments for Harry's hand.

"Harry needs his hand healed, professor," Orion says, as gently as he can. "Or do you disagree with that?"

Dumbledore blinks. "Of course not, Mr. Black."

"Then why oppose his leaving for the treatments?"

"I simply wonder how those treatments will be paid for, Mr. Black."

Oh. Maybe this is simpler than Orion thought. Maybe Dumbledore thinks that since he paid for Harry's books and robes, people will expect him to pay for the Healing, too. Maybe he doesn't have the money.

Orion smiles. "I assure you, Professor Dumbledore, my family has both the money and the eagerness to provide treatments for Harry. No one else will be on the hook for Galleons or Sickles or even a Knut of such a thing."

"Orion."

Harry is flushing. Apparently talking about how much Orion wants to provide for him, and how the Blacks want the same, embarrasses him in a way that publicly acknowledging the courtship doesn't. Orion winks and takes his hand. "You know what I'm saying is perfectly true, Harry. And we'll escort you to and from the Healer's, and pay for the potions you need, and anything else that goes along with the treatments. If we have to send you abroad for experimental treatments, we'll do that, too."

"Better to wait for the summer, perhaps," Dippet says loudly, as if he wants to indicate that he has some part in the conversation.

Harry doesn't take his eyes from Orion. Whatever he's searching for, Orion intends to let him find it. He remains calm and open, and Harry relaxes all at once, in a great wave, nodding. "Okay," he says quietly.

"Then we can arrange the schedule of your absences?" Dippet rustles nervously through the parchments on his desk. Orion eyes them, not surprised to find them thick. The kind of Healer that Mother found must have been both rare and capable of sending detailed reports. She wouldn't accept anything less for her future son-in-law. "It shouldn't be that taxing, I hope."

"This is what you want, Mr. Potter?"

Dumbledore is looking straight at Harry. Harry looks back, the skin around the corners of his eyes crinkling for a moment. Orion wonders what he's thinking of, the past or the present, the man who paid for his books and robes or the one who tried to guide him, in a certain way, through managing his fame.

"Yes, sir," Harry says at last. "I know that I want a peaceful life, and I want Orion at my side." His hand reaches out and squeezes Orion's, once, then drops back to dangle at his side. Orion admires the way he lounges there, like a powerful panther who's decided it's not worthwhile springing off his branch.

"Ah, yes. So." Dippet clears his throat a little nervously. "There are other absences to arrange, too. Ones that might be a little more complicated to work around your class schedule. And your Healers' appointments."

"What are they?" Orion asks sharply. He can only think of one candidate, and that kind of appointment should only have occurred once, not multiple times.

But Dippet blinks and mumbles, and Dumbledore is the one who steps in. "Headmaster Dippet means to say that you have been summoned to testify at Tom Riddle's trial."

"Why?" Orion demands. Yes, that's the absence he was thinking of, but he doesn't see why they would need to attend the trial more than once. And it seems odd that both of them would need to testify, when Harry is the one who found Riddle's Horcruxes and the one responsible for bringing him down.

Dippet blinks again. Dumbledore is the one who speaks, his voice oddly gentle.

"Because Mr. Riddle is claiming that you are the one who led him astray, Mr. Black, and gave him the books on Horcruxes."