A/N: Here is Orion Black, Sirius and Regulus' father. This is set when he was about twenty, before he married Walburga. All the names of family members, their relationships to Orion and etc. are from the Harry Potter Lexicon, where there is a Black Family Tree JKR herself wrote. That is what I'm using for all dates and ages as well. (Abraxas really is the name of a member of the Malfoy Family. He was Draco's grandfather. His father's name, however, I just made.)

IMPORTANT NOTE: I wrote this using the assumption that in the Wizarding World, they used similar, yet different, ways of "presenting" daugthers to the world as potential wives. I was also assuming that the members of the Black Family were prominent figures not only in society, but governement as well, and that they had since retired from the posistions of power that they once held. Any other things, I just completely made up.

Disclaimer: JKR owns all. I'm just playing in her snadbox. :)

A big thanks to Permanent Rose who helps me with writer's block :) Also, this chapter is dedicated to Likewow5556, who gave me a review a while ago, suggesting that I do Orion Black when Sirius ran away. Since I did do that scene, only with Sirius as the main character, I decided to do Orion Black in his own scene. Enjoy! :)

Orion Black

Fall From Grace

"I won't do it," I said firmly.

"For the love of Merlin," sighed my mother, completely exasperated. "Just listen, for once in your life!"

My father grunted in agreement. His eyes swept over the small, cramped room. Ever since he had lost his gold in gambling, the rest of the Black family turned their backs on us. His disgust and disappointment was evident in his silence. It was rare that Mother did the talking for our family, but today, everyone would bend to her words. My second cousin Walburga Black was turning sixteen, and her father was looking for a husband for her. A pureblood. Preferably a Black.

And my mother had arranged for us to go. Or, more specifically, me.

"Look," Mother continued, "This must go smoothly. Either you shall marry Walburga, or some Malfoy will. Is that what you want? Is it? Because Thaddcus will surely thrust his son in front of her, mark my words. And his son will marry Walburga, and we shall be forgotten."

"Abraxas," Father said.

Mother turned sharply. "What was that, Arcturus?"

"Abraxas Malfoy," Father said loudly, standing to tower over my mother. She flinched back, her shoulder coming up with her arm to cover her face. My father was sending a message that would not be misinterpreted: He was still Master of this house, and his wife needed to be reminded. "Thaddcus' son is Abraxas. He is about the same age as Lucretia."

My sister smirked from her seat at the window. She had not said a word while our parents plotted to marry me off to a second cousin that neither of us had seen since her birth. Lucretia ran her fingers through her luscious black hair, and, at the perfect pause in conversation said sadly, "And when will there be a wedding for me?"

"Darling!" cried my mother, flinging herself to Lucretia. "Darling, do you wish to leave me so soon?"

My sister sighed softly. "Of course not, Mother," she cooed, "But who else shall bring this family back into the intimate circle of Blacks if I do not? Cousin Walburga has brothers, does she not? I could marry one of them." The corners of her lips twitched in pleasure at the thought. Cousin Walburga's branch of Blacks were the most wealthy, and the most powerful. To marry Lucretia into their part of our family would be our salvation from poverty and isolation. I felt instant relief. Lucretia would have more chance to raise out family with a marriage to a son of Pollux than I would with a marriage to his only daughter.

"No," my father growled. "Absolutely not! No daughter of mine shall marry a son of Pollux!"

"Besides," my mother said quickly, "They will not come of age for a few more years." She paused, letting my sister pout. "And they are not inheriting Grimmauld Place."

"What?" I shot up out of my seat, feeling as though a ton of bricks had been dumped on my head. Pollux's sons not inheriting Grimmauld? It was the center of activity, the place of meetings and schemes and plots, and, contrary to public belief, where all the important decisions were made for the Wizarding World. Many thought that the Minister ran things, but the truth was that the Blacks did. We worked at the Ministry, we were Aurors, we were the ones that made the final decision.

"Then who?"

My mother turned to me, her eyes meeting mine. "Walburga."

Lucretia dropped her tea, shattering the china cup she had used. "Walburga? Little Cousin Walburga? Why?" she wailed, "Why not the sons? Why?"

"Because," Father said, "He is afraid of his own sons. He thinks they will turn on him, as he turned on his own father. He's leaving it to Walburga because he trusts her." He turned to me. "And he will want to trust her husband."

Mother took my hand in hers. "You are our greatest hope," she whispered.

I turned to look at my older sister. Lucretia shrugged, as if to say What choice to do you have?

"Fine," I said. "So when is this party?"

"Orion Black, son of Acrturus Black and Melania MacMillan Black. Acrturus Black, son of Sirius Black and Hesper Gamp." The servant turned to us. "Master is over there," he pointed. My father nodded quickly, and grabbed my arm.

"This is our chance," he hissed into my ear as we approached my father's cousin and his daughter. "Don't screw it up."

I looked at the two people in front of us. The man was about a decade younger than my father. He must be Cousin Pollux, I thought as we came closer. He was tall, and had a thick mane of black hair that reminded me of my sister's. He also wore a beard, something my own father refused to do, saying that he made him look less respectable. I guess if you're the head of the most wealthy and powerful Black Family branch, you could look like a ruffian and get away with it. My mother had said Cousin Pollux was handsome, but all that I could say was that he looked strong.

His daughter was something else, though. She was clearly no beauty, and from what information my mother had gleaned through the grapevine, she had no interest in books. Her eyes were sharp, however, and they spotted us before we could announce ourselves. She glanced at her father, and turned gracefully, her skirts rustling around her.

"Hello," she said. "You must be family, then."

It wasn't phrased like a question, so I remained silent. The smile on her fave twitched, and I started. "Orion Black," I said with a slight bow.

She curtsied.

The man beside her—Cousin Pollux—said proudly, "This is my daughter Walburga." Although we had been introduced to the room in general, Pollux could not ignore me or my father. He must make a private, and formal, introduction as Black Family etiquette required. The others around Walburga and Pollux disappeared, leaving a small cluster of Blacks to speak of alliances and marriages.

"My son is very cunning," my father told Cousin Pollux. He lowered his voice. "And, it seems, the only Black man her age. We both know we like to keep it in the family."

"He is a few years older," Pollux observed. Walburga and I were silent. "And yes, they are the only two in this generation that would probably marry. But," he continued, "The Potters have sent a boy, and the Bones, and the Malfoys—"

"Ha!" My father spat. "The Malfoys are gold diggers. I doubt they are even purebloods as they claim."

"Nonetheless, I could not deny them the chance. And the Crabbes sent my wife's second cousin's son." Pollux waited paiently for my father's reply.

"A Crabbe? But Irma's a Crabbe! They do not think to marry into the Blacks again," Father snarled.

"They are ambious. And he is related as much to Walburga as your own son is. What is your name again?" Pollux had turned to me suddenly.

"Orion Black, Cousin Pollux," I said, reminding myself to sound strong and to give a slight nodd of the head to show respect. To show weakness would be a disaster, as would a sign of disrespect.

"Hmm," he said thoughtfully. "How long has it been since the last time we married a Black to a Black, Arcturus?"

My father met Pollux's eyes. "Far too long," he said.

Pollux turned back to Walburga and I. "Go dance," he instructed. "Cousin Arcturus and I need to talk."

Walburga made to move away from me, but her father surprised her when he comanded, "With Orion."

She stiffened, but complied. She kept herself away from me, holding her body awkardly so as to not touch any part of me. As we danced, and I twirled her around the room, she watched out fathers. When Pollux laughed and gestured for wine for both him and my father, we knew.

Walburga turned to me, and she let her shoulders slump. "Our fate is sealed," she whispered, a tinge of surprise in her voice. I wondered who had caught her fancy. I wondered which family would rage when they learned that the reason they would not join the ranks of the Black Family was because they had intermarried for the first time in generations.

Walburga glared at me for a minute, and said, "You will have no choice."

"No," I agreed, "It seems our futures are in others' hands."

After a moment of silence, she leaned forward, and said, "I didn't think he'd let me marry you. I thought that with the way your family fell from grace that he would want me to marry a Potter, or Malfoy, or Crabbe. But I convinced him. I told him that I needed to marry a Black, and that you were my only choice. I want to rule this family. I want to be the greatest Black woman ever known to history. And I needed to marry a Black. I could not marry anywhere else." She smiled at me, a black widow spider grinning at the fly caught in its web. "We will be very happy together, I think."

And here I was, thinking that maybe, just maybe, Walburga would have been a friend.