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Chapter Thirty—The Consequences of a Choice

When it was over, when Riddle had been taken to prison, Harry shook off Orion and Abraxas and climbed to the top of the Astronomy Tower.

There were no classes that night. Harry lay back with his arms folded behind his head and stared into the distance, at the stars that hovered overhead, and his eyes found Sirius after a moment. He stared, then closed them and lay there in the cool night while the stars stared at him.

He had protected Orion and Abraxas and Alphard, and other people like Avery and Lestrange, from Riddle's vengeance. He had sent Riddle to be tried. Probably to prison, if Horcruxes were as bad as everyone seemed to think they were.

He had destroyed any chance of returning to his original timeline.

Harry breathed out slowly. He wondered if he was selfish, for choosing the people in front of him instead of the people in the future. They were waiting for him, he thought. They needed him to destroy Voldemort. They needed him to come back and be their friend.

Or were they all gone now, because he had utterly wiped them and their circumstances out by ensuring Riddle would never become the Voldemort they'd known?

Harry had no idea. He had made his choice, though, for the people who needed him here, for this timeline, and he would have to live with that no matter what happened. Knowing he could have chosen differently, and knowing that if he had it to do over again, he would have still rescued Alphard, still have stolen Riddle's Horcrux diary, still have stood up for the Slytherins of this time against Riddle.

Or would he disappear someday, simply vanishing as suddenly as he had come?

Harry stared down at his blackened hand, and flexed his remaining fingers. A steady throb of pain made its way up through his arm.

When he went back—if he went back, if he woke up someday and he was back in his own time—he was pretty sure he would still have the injuries from confronting Riddle. Probably Dumbledore and Ron and Hermione would smother him with questions about it. And someone would say that he shouldn't have done it.

Harry shrugged. He had made his choices. He had to live with them.

It was harder to think that other people would have to, as well.

He looked up at the stars, and remained motionless until he knew he would be risking breaking curfew if he didn't go down now. It took some time to reach the Slytherin common room from here, after all. He slipped as silently as he could along the corridors. The last thing he needed right now was to draw the attention of the professors after the whole debacle with Riddle's Horcruxes and how they'd brought him to prominence.

When he slipped through the door into the common room, Abraxas glanced up and nodded at him. Harry nodded back, a little surprised, and eased up the stairs into the bedroom the sixth-year boys shared.

Riddle's trunk was gone, seized by the Aurors as evidence, and Hogwarts or the house-elves or whoever or whatever kept track of things like that had taken the bed, as well. Harry sat down on the edge of his own and started when Orion rolled over. He had thought he was asleep.

Orion gazed at him with completely clear eyes, and Harry flushed. Of course. Orion might have let him go up to the Astronomy Tower alone, maybe because he had been able to see how much Harry needed it, but he wouldn't have gone to sleep while Harry was wandering around somewhere. Especially not when Abraxas had been waiting up, too.

"I'm so glad you're here," Orion whispered, and then rolled over and faced the opposite way again. He didn't seem to fall back asleep, but that would be a little quick, really.

Harry blinked, and made quick work of going to the loo, brushing his teeth, and getting dressed in his pyjamas. Then he lay down on the bed and blinked at the ceiling.

He had someone who worried about him, someone who wanted to know where he was at all times but also would let him have time by himself, someone who waited up for him.

Harry smiled slowly. He had thought a lot on the Tower about how much his choices had cost him and others, but there were good things, too. And Orion was the best of them.

"I don't think you ought to go."

Abraxas gives the advice in the soft, heavy voice that he uses when he wants to talk about the most serious subjects. Abraxas being Abraxas, there aren't many of those times.

Orion is ready to explain to Harry why he should take this seriously if Harry doesn't listen, but Harry pauses and turns to Abraxas. He must have noticed the rarity of the occasions when he does this, then. "Why not?"

"Because Merrythought was as much a follower of Riddle as you could get without being a Slytherin student. She constantly admired and praised him, and acted as though she would have her legacy secured if he did well on his Defense NEWT. You should have heard how she went on about his OWL prospects last year."

Harry's smile twists a little. Orion remembers that there was no last year for Harry, or at least not in the ordinary sense. He puts a hand on Harry's shoulder, and rejoices a little as Harry leans back against him. Of course, if they weren't back in this private corner of the library with Harry tutoring them both in Defense, they wouldn't have done either of those things.

"That doesn't mean she has bad motives for assigning me detention. I can take a bit of yelling."

"But you shouldn't have to," Orion says, and hears an odd echo in his voice. It takes him a moment to realize that Abraxas said the exact same thing at the exact same time he did.

They blink at each other, and then Orion smiles. Abraxas tilts his head and offers a thin smile back. Then they turn as one to Harry, who is watching them the way a Quidditch novice might watch people bat a Quaffle around.

"I'm going to be fine," Harry says.

"She favored Riddle too much. One of us should go with you."

"And how is that going to work?" Harry shakes his head, looking a bit exasperated. "She won't let you into her office. You know that."

"We'll take it in turns to wait outside," Orion says. It wouldn't do for both of them to miss dinner. Merrythought and probably also Dumbledore would notice and expect his and Abraxas's tactics. "Abraxas first, then me."

Abraxas eyes him. Orion shrugs. He has ulterior motives, sure. He fully plans to take over from Abraxas after an hour (and a good dinner) and stand guard for the majority of the detention.

"But—"

"Do you really think that Merrythought isn't a danger to you?" Abraxas interrupts. "That she assigned you detention just because she was outraged at the lack of respect you had for her?"

Harry visibly thinks about it. Orion reins in his impatience, his worry that Harry didn't think about that when Orion proposed standing guard or objected to Harry going to the detention. Harry and Abraxas do have more of a relationship where Abraxas listens to his advice.

"I think that she probably assigned it to me to scold me or yell at me," Harry says quietly. "But I don't think she's a danger, no."

"And someday, that overconfidence is going to get you killed," Orion snaps before he can stop himself. Abraxas glares at him. Orion glares back. "Let us be nearby. If you don't need us, that's fine."

"How is he going to signal that he does need us?" Abraxas asks. "Merrythought will probably have charms or wards up to stop sound."

Orion grimaces. "I can get through them if she does, but the effort leaves me exhausted for at least ten minutes afterwards. I don't like the thought of being exhausted if you need me, Harry."

"I'll send you a Patronus with a message."

"You know how to do that?" Abraxas blurts. "I know that—I mean, of course you can cast a Patronus, but the art of having them carry messages is almost a lost one."

"I certainly know how to cast a Patronus," Harry says, and smiles a little. Orion smiles back, remembering the stag that charged Riddle down in the common room. "And I haven't done the message bit before, but I'll figure it out."

Abraxas looks unsatisfied. It's also the way Orion feels. But they've already talked about how Harry doesn't think it's worth skipping the detention. He wants to know what she's doing, Orion thinks. Maybe even feels driven to investigate it.

If he hadn't told me he was a Gryffindor in his original timeline, I would have thought Ravenclaw.

"No problems?" Orion asks under his breath as he exchanges places with Abraxas near Merrythought's door. Abraxas is under a Disillusionment Charm, and Orion begrudgingly admits to himself that it's so good he can barely see Abraxas.

"No. It was quiet."

Orion nods. Abraxas nods back and heads up the corridor, a flicker of movement that blends into the walls and floors a scant moment later.

Orion steps back, closing his eyes, and moves his wand in a sharp jab. The Disillusionment Charm washes over him, and he settles back against the wall. He does listen, but just as they thought, the professor's warded her door so no sound escapes.

Orion passes the time idly speculating to himself what Merrythought wants. Just to punish Harry for getting Riddle in trouble? If so, this won't be the only detention. He and Abraxas will have to recruit other people to stand guard. They can't do it all the time.

Perhaps she thinks that she can prove Riddle innocent somehow if she pries into Harry's life enough? Orion shakes his head. The Aurors and the Wizengamot won't take that kind of deal now, not with the evidence of the Horcruxes and of Riddle attacking Harry right in front of some of his judges.

Perhaps she—

Orion snaps to full alert as a glowing silvery stag leaps through the door. "Orion, I need you in here," it says in Harry's voice, such a perfect imitation that Orion can hear the hoarse breathing Harry must have been using when he spoke.

Orion doesn't hesitate to unleash a blast of his magic against the protections on the door. They unravel, a lot less strong on the office than they would be on Merrythought's private quarters, and Orion yanks the door open and charges in.

He jerks to a stop when he sees Merrythought lying in the middle of the floor, bound hand and foot and gagged. Orion blinks and looks at Harry, who is standing next to her and staring down with his arms folded.

"Harry?"

"Look around, Orion," Harry says, without taking his eyes from Merrythought, "and tell me what you see on the floor."

Orion does what he says. At first, he thinks that the only things on the floor are the round stones that actually make it up. And then he makes out the thin white lines that are starred with runes, and the hair rises on the back of his neck.

"She was getting ready for some kind of ritual," Orion whispers. He doesn't recognize the markings. His mother did teach him some rituals, but they were all the kind that involved circles or pentagrams. These seem to be straight lines, with the runes woven in such intricate patterns that Orion can't even guess what they're meant to achieve.

"Yes." Harry looks up, and his eyes are haunted. That's why he wanted me here, Orion realizes. Not because he had trouble taking down Merrythought, but because he wanted to talk to me right away. "She helped Riddle with the ritual that brought me here. She thought she could send me back, or do something that would change me into less of a threat."

Orion steps forwards, and then halts. Harry nods to him, and Orion crosses the rest of the distance between them and holds Harry against his chest, making soft distressed noises despite himself.

"I'm still here, Orion. It's all right."

"I—she was prepared to sacrifice a unicorn?"

"No. She said that she thought she could just use some rare ingredients." Harry tilts his head at a large open vat near the end of Merrythought's desk. Orion can smell mooncalf dung, among other things that aren't familiar. "I don't think she thought through it very clearly. I don't think she thought through helping Riddle very clearly. She just thought she could—fix it somehow."

Orion sighs and leans his head on Harry's shoulder. Harry didn't disappear. He's still right in front of Orion, warm and solid, his arms moving to encircle Orion's shoulders.

It will work. This is—it has to work.

And Merrythought will be punished for what she did to help Riddle, for what she intended to do tonight.

"You do seem to cause trouble and chaos in my school, Mr. Potter."

Headmaster Dippet's voice is wavering back and forth. Orion says nothing. They had to find a camera—it turns out that it belongs to Professor Dumbledore—to take pictures of the lines and runes and symbols that Merrythought scribed on her floor. Dippet seems to recognize them. He hasn't taken his eyes from the picture once since Dumbledore laid it on the desk in front of him.

"Did Professor Merrythought say anything about what she thought she would accomplish by sending you back to your own time, Mr. Potter?"

Dumbledore is standing off to the side with his arms folded. He looks old and worn-down. Orion wonders if it's because of the evidence of Riddle's tendrils spreading so far and wide, strangling so many plans and other people.

Or maybe he's just reacting like that because now he's forced to believe Harry's claims of coming from the future. Orion has to admit he sort of hopes that's it.

"She just ranted a lot about how sending me back would change everything." Harry is sitting in a chair in front of Dippet's desk, his arms crossed. His voice is weary, too, but less so than Dippet's. Orion would have dragged him off to the hospital wing otherwise, no matter how much he protested. "I don't know if she really thought that everything that had happened would reverse itself if I disappeared back to my own time, or if she just thought Riddle would be proven innocent at his trial if I wasn't around. Or maybe he would escape Azkaban and come back and not have any effective opposition if I wasn't here."

He wouldn't, Orion thinks darkly. The Aurors might know about the Horcruxes now, and so might Dumbledore, but they didn't stop Riddle from making them in the first place.

"I see," says Dippet, and seems to fetch a sigh from the bottom of his toes. It's his third in the last five minutes. "Well, of course Merrythought was mad, since Riddle's madness seems to have been contagious."

Orion blinks. He sees Dumbledore straighten out of the corner of his eye. Harry just sighs in turn.

"You don't believe that I came from another time, sir?"

"Of course not! It's preposterous." Dippet laughs, his voice weaving up and down the scale. "Of course these lines are disturbing to look at, but she wouldn't have been able to send you anywhere with them, my boy, not even crashing into the ceiling or wall. This is complete nonsense." He waves his hand over the photograph. "Disturbing, though, most disturbing, to have a professor attack a student, I will grant you that."

"Armando," Dumbledore begins.

"You know as well as I that no one could do anything with these lines, Albus." Dippet sits up, and an authority Orion didn't know he still possessed radiates from him. "With some of the runes in combination with blood sacrifice, yes, but they still wouldn't send anyone through time."

Harry shifts in his chair, and Orion's gaze locks on the back of his head. He's sure now what's going on. The ritual would only make sense if it had a unicorn sacrifice to power it, and of course Merrythought didn't have a unicorn in her office.

Probably.

Orion does make a silent note to check on that.

Harry doesn't seem anxious to reveal any knowledge of a unicorn sacrifice ritual, either. "Really, sir? You're sure she couldn't accomplish that?"

"Yes, my dear boy." Dippet beams at Harry, who flinches, but Orion thinks it's more about the words than the tone or the smile. "I heard from Albus that you've had delusions of being from a different time. Understandable, considering all the stress you've been under. I'd like you to visit a St. Mungo's Healer a few times. Just for the basic evaluation, you know."

Orion tenses, but mostly because he thinks Harry is going to explode. If Harry accepts this, then Orion will accept it, too. He's heard Mind-Healers have ways of detecting lies like a Legilimens can, but he's already seen how successful Harry is at lying with the truth.

"Yes, sir."

Dumbledore looks a little thrown. Orion supposes he expected a more violent protest.

"Wonderful!" Dippet claps his hands. "Well, my boy, I think that you could use some rest and relaxation. You're excused from classes for the next day. And Defense Against the Dark Arts classes are canceled for the next week. Could you spread the word among your peers? We'll have to find someone to take over for Merrythought, although where we'll get someone at such short notice, I'm sure I don't know…"

He goes on, softly talking to himself, as Dumbledore escorts Harry and Orion to the door of the Headmaster's office. Harry shakes his head a little when Orion glances at him. There's nothing they need to stay for, then.

When they're outside, Dumbledore shuts the door with more than the necessary force and turns to look at them. Harry meets his eyes with a sad smile that Orion supposes he can understand, given how close Harry told Orion he was with the Transfiguration professor in his own time.

"You told the truth," Dumbledore whispers.

"I always have, sir."

Orion supposes that Dumbledore probably does pick up on the undertone there. But I'm careful how I flavor the truth.

Dumbledore sighs. "If you would come speak with me tomorrow, Mr. Potter? And Mr. Black and Mr. Malfoy can come with you, of course. I won't ask you to spend time with me alone, not now."

That's more graciousness and grasp of reality than Orion expected from Dumbledore. He nods, and Harry nods, and then they make their way along the corridor back towards the Slytherin common room.

"I was worried for you," Orion says quietly, when it seems Harry is only going to pace and lose himself in his thoughts.

Harry starts and glances at Orion, then smiles. "I wasn't worried."

"Because you knew you could defeat Merrythought in a duel?"

"No. Because I had you and Abraxas watching out for me."

Orion has to stop and pull Harry into a kiss in the middle of the empty corridor. He has to. No one could possibly blame him, if they knew the truth.