Disclaimer: This story is based on characters created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoat Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
AN:
Thanks to all of those who reviewed! As always, I greatly appreciate it. This is a long chappie, but bear with me because everything that happens needed to be written –winks-. Anyway, I hope you enjoy it and review - I would love to read your opinions!
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Chapter 10
Short-tempered, Orion cursed under his breath. He had been stalking the dimly lit corridors of Riddle Manor looking for Voldemort, not finding him either in the wizard's private library or in his study. Furthermore, he had crossed paths with several masked Death Eaters and a muttering Bellatrix, who - to his never-ending delight - had been twitching as if recently subjected to the Cruciatus Curse. That had momentarily uplifted his spirits.
Now, he was making his way to the summoning chamber, since it was the last place he needed to check, and Bellatrix had come from that direction. So surely Voldemort was there, occupied with some Death Eaters.
He turned around a corner and finally approached the door of the summoning chamber, wondering if he should wait or simply barge into whatever meeting Voldemort was holding.
Orion was about to grasp the door handle, when, abruptly, the door was jerked open from inside, and he immediately jumped into a shadowed corner.
When he saw who came out and closed the door, he took a step forward and gasped out in surprise, "Draco, what are you doing here?"
The young wizard instantly swirled around with his wand aimed forward, and demanded in a low whisper, while his tired silvery eyes squinted to discern the face covered by the hood, "Orion, is that you?"
"Yes," whispered Orion, lowering his hood and approaching Draco, swiftly casting silencing and anti-spying spells around them.
He halted in front of the young wizard and closely inspected him; the boy looked like death warmed over, and his hands were jerkily twitching.
"He crucioed you," said Orion flatly.
"Yes," said Draco stiffly, straightening up while he smoothed his disheveled robes with a hand. "But he gave me permission to take some potions from his storeroom, that's where I was going."
"Why did he summon you?" asked Orion, worried for his friend.
"He wanted an update about my progress with the task," replied Draco coolly. He sighed heavily, and shot him a wan smirk. "I don't think he suspects anything. He didn't Legilimize me. I think you were right; he doesn't want to risk damaging my mind since I still have to accomplish my task."
"Well, that doesn't mean that he doesn't suspect," pointed out Orion.
"Yes, you're right," said Draco tiredly, "he did seem peculiarly angry and bothered about something tonight. I'm not the only one who got crucioed without any apparent reason for it. Some poor saps in there are still getting it."
Orion sighed and carded his fingers through his hair. "We shouldn't be seen together, so go to take your potions to recover, and I'll see you back at Hogwarts-"
Abruptly, the door was jerked open once again and Orion jumped away from Draco, both of them putting as much distance between them as they could, given the narrow corridor.
A cloaked wizard stumbled out from the summoning chamber, closing the door behind him, and inadvertently crashing into Orion. The wizard reeled backwards, got his feet entangled with his long cloak, and stumbled onto the floor before Orion had time to grab him.
The hood fell from the wizard's head, revealing a pale, gaunt face, and Orion gazed down at him, surprised. "Barty Crouch Jr."
"Black," croaked out Barty, still sprawled on the floor, his wide eyes flickering from Orion to Draco, nervous and startled. "Malfoy."
Orion frowned at the wizard who was now shakily trying to stand up, and he shot out a hand to grab Barty's arm to help him up.
"Don't touch me," snapped Barty, instantly jerking his left arm away from Orion, straightening up with difficulty. He eyed Orion nervously, and muttered apologetically, "Sorry, Black. I meant that I don't need your help, thanks."
Orion's frown deepened further. This was the second time he had seen Barty acting strangely jittery and spineless around him; something wasn't right. He shot Draco a meaningful glance while he surreptitiously drew out his wand, and he saw Draco arching an eyebrow, following his lead by covertly aiming his wand at Barty, approaching the wizard at the same time that Orion did.
"I have to leave now," said Barty, his eyes darting from one to the other, slightly alarmed. "See ya 'round."
The wizard made a move to rush past them, but Orion instantly grabbed his forearm, keeping him in place.
"What's the rush, Barty?" said Orion pleasantly, smiling at him. "We are friends, aren't we? Stay to have a little chat with us."
"Friends? Yes, of course," said Barty, his eyes flickering from Orion to Draco. "Er – what do you want to talk about?" His gaze focused on Orion, and he tried to pull back his forearm from Orion's grasp, while he muttered with a hint of annoyance, "Can you release me, Black?"
Orion frowned at him, tightening his grasp on the wizard's forearm. "Yes, I could, but you would never ask me something like that. You would have attempted to curse me by now. What's wrong with you-"
He clamped his mouth shut, his eyes widened in realization, and his fingers sunk into the wizard's forearm, making Barty grimace. Immediately, he gazed down at the left forearm he had tightly clutched in his grasp.
Orion didn't think about it twice, he went along with his suspicion, and swiftly aimed his wand at the wizard, who had suddenly whipped out his own wand, and he whispered sharply, "Stupefy!"
Barty went down with a loud 'thud', impacting on the hard stone floors.
"What the hell?" said Draco, glancing from Barty's unconscious form to Orion. "Why did you do that?"
"His left forearm," bit out Orion, crouching besides the knocked out wizard, swiftly pulling up Barty's left sleeve; observing the moving tattoo of the black skull with the coiling snake slithering from the skull's mouth.
Draco kneeled by his side, staring at the Dark Mark on Barty's pale forearm. "What about it?"
"Touch it," whispered Orion, tracing the mark with his fingers.
Draco frowned, and his long fingers moved along the branded skin. Abruptly, his eyes widened and snapped to Orion's, and he said in a startled voice, "I don't feel any dark magic."
"Exactly," said Orion with a sharp nod. "I didn't feel it through his sleeve either, when I was grasping his forearm. And I can always feel the dark magic of your Dark Mark, even if it's clothed. This isn't a Dark Mark-"
"It's just a wizarding tattoo," whispered Draco. "He isn't a Death Eater." He stared at Orion, his jaw clenched. "A spy then, impersonating Barty."
"Yes, he must be," murmured Orion quietly.
"Then let's take him to the Dark Lord," whispered Draco excitedly. "We've discovered a spy in his ranks, he'll surely reward us-"
Orion snorted, piercing Draco with his eyes. "The Dark Lord knows, of course. If you and I can detect the lack of dark magic in this wizard's 'Dark Mark', Voldemort surely can as well. Oh, yes, he knows already. Something like this wouldn't fool him for a second."
He pocketed the stupefied wizard's wand and started to weave his arms under the impostor's body, while he said sharply, "Help me get him up."
"What do you want to do?" demanded Draco, though he helped Orion to get the unconscious wizard on his feet.
"You always carry a portkey to your Manor, don't you?" said Orion, heavily huffing when he laid the dead weight of the wizard against him, tightly wrapping his arm around him. "Take us to Malfoy Manor, Draco. I want to see who it is. He must be a spy for Dumbledore and I must know how much he babbled to the old coot."
Draco looked uncertain for a moment, nervously glancing to the closed door of the summoning chamber. "The Dark Lord won't like it-"
"Damn the Dark Lord to the deepest pits of hell!" spat Orion angrily, struggling with the body he carried. "I'll tell him about this afterwards. He knew about the spy and didn't tell me, and honestly, I don't care if he gets angry at me. I need to find out how much Dumbledore knows about my true allegiances!"
"Fine," hissed out Draco sharply, pulling out a thin chain from underneath his robes. He tightly wrapped his arms around Orion, gripping one of Orion's hands and one of the stupefied wizard's hands, and pressed them to the long chain. "Malfoy Manor!"
And in a swirl of colors, a pull around their navels, and a rush of space, they were gone.
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They were standing in the middle of the main parlor of Malfoy Manor, with the stupefied imposter tied to a chair by snakes Orion had conjured and by ropes casted by Draco. Furthermore, both of them had casted powerful silencing and anti-spying spells on the room, since Malfoy Manor was still being watched by the Ministry, ever since Lucius' imprisonment.
Now, they were standing in front of the unconscious wizard, gazing down at him, their expressions cold and calculatingly pensive.
"We can't use Imperius to command him to tell us the truth," said Draco, side-glancing at Orion. "It would surely be picked up by the Ministry's monitoring spells."
"You're right," agreed Orion, pensively frowning at the impostor. "We should try something else."
Draco poked the wizard's cheek with his wand. "He must be polyjuiced."
"Yeah," said Orion, "that is the only way he can have Barty's appearance, isn't it? But we can't wait for the effects of the Polyjuice Potion to fade away – it could take an hour and we don't have time to spare." He glanced at Draco thoughtfully. "Your mother still floo-calls Severus once in a while, doesn't she?"
"Yes, why do you ask?" inquired Draco, arching an eyebrow.
"Because then Severus has his floo-network opened to Malfoy Manor," said Orion quietly. "Therefore, you can floo into his quarters and ask him to give you Veritaserum and a potion that negates the effects of Polyjuice."
Draco scoffed. "Severus would ask too many questions-"
"Then cajole him to give you the potions without telling him anything," snapped Orion shortly. "You're his godson, you can get anything from him if you want to. He wants to help you with your task but doesn't know how since you won't accept his assistance and since he doesn't have your trust. Use that against him."
"Okay," said Draco, slyly smirking at him. "I'll be right back."
The young wizard eagerly sauntered away from the room, leaving Orion standing with his hands clasped behind his back, impatient and deep in thought.
The minutes seemed to indefinitely tick by, and finally, when Orion was about to try something drastic, Draco strolled back into the room, holding two stoppered vials in his hands, with a wide smirk playing on his lips.
"My dear godfather finally relented," drawled Draco sarcastically. "He pinched the bridged of his overlarge, hooked nose and thrusted the vials into my hands, telling me that he rather not know what my feeble mind was up to, after all."
Orion sniggered, eyeing him with amusement. "That's Severus for you. He would have threatened to curse me into telling him the truth, if I had gone instead of you."
"I doubt it. He has a soft spot for you, I can tell," sniffed Draco, raising his chin as he coldly gazed down at the bound and unconscious wizard. His lips curled into a nasty smirk, while he handed one vial to Orion and uncorked the other. "Let's see who the spy is, shall we?"
"Go ahead," said Orion expectantly, stepping to a side to leave room for Draco.
Draco shot him a smirk, before he approached the impostor and forcefully pried open his mouth, summarily forcing the potion down his throat, massaging the wizard's adam's apple to make him shallow.
The unconscious wizard shuddered violently, and then slumped limply on the armchair he was bound to.
Orion frowned when nothing happened. "Are you sure you gave him the right potion?"
"Yes," said Draco, gazing down at the impostor with an annoyed scowl on his face. "The effects of the Polyjuice should have been negated right away. He should have instantly transformed back into his true appearance."
"Then he isn't polyjuiced," interjected Orion, his frown deepening.
"Right," said Draco crisply, side-glancing at him. "That's it then. I'm going to Imperio him-"
"But the Ministry's monitoring spells-"
"I'll deal with that," interrupted Draco sharply, "I can tighten the Manor's wards around this room, so that no casting is detected by the Ministry. I can sustain it for a few moments. It will be enough."
"Very well, then do it," said Orion, gesturing at the impostor while he shot his friend a challenging smile. "He's all yours."
Draco confidently smirked at him, before he briefly closed his eyes, an expression of deep concentration spreading across his aristocratic, handsome face.
"Done," said Draco, snapping open his eyes while he whipped out his wand and aimed it at the bound wizard. "Ennervate!"
With a haggard intake of breath and a violent shudder, the impostor's eyes flew open, alarmed and alert while his gaze darted from one boy to the other, struggling against the snakes and ropes which bound him to the chair.
But Draco didn't give him time to say anything. His face instantly adopted a ruthlessly resolved expression, and he spat, "Imperio!"
Immediately, the impostor's eyes glazed over and his body relaxed, gazing unseeingly into space.
Orion arched an eyebrow and glanced appreciatively at Draco, who proudly smirked back at him, drawling smugly, "I'm very good with the Imperius Curse."
"I can see that," said Orion, shooting him a respectful smile. "Finish it, then."
Draco nodded, and rounded on the imperioed wizard, with his wand still aimed at him, and said commandingly, "Assume your true form."
Instantly, before their eyes, the wizard's whole body shuddered and trembled while limbs shifted, features blurred, and muscles, skin and hair rearranged and changed. And in a blink of an eye, the impostor had turned into a young, beautiful witch with long, wavy black hair, a round, pretty face with large dark eyes, and an athletic, fit body.
"Slytherin's snakes!" gasped out Draco, staring at the witch. "She's a metamorphagus, and she looks like-"
"Like a young, sane Bellatrix Lestrange," whispered Orion, gaping at the imperioed woman with wide eyes. "Who is she-"
"Our cousin!" exclaimed Draco, gazing at him with startled realization. "I've never met her in person but I've heard about her. She's an Auror and a metamorpaghus. She's Nymphadora Tonks!"
"Merlin's socks," breathed out Orion, staring at her with a deep frown on his face. "Nymphadora Tonks… yes, my father told me about her a while ago…" He side-glanced at Draco, and snapped, "Cancel the Imperius before it's detected, hurry!"
Draco nodded, clenched his jaw, and instantly swished his wand through the air. The change was instantaneous; her eyes focused back into awareness, her hair turned into a mass of hot pink spikes, and her face shifted into common features.
She glared at them, struggling against her binds, and snapped furiously, "Release me, brats! What's the meaning of this? You casted an Unforgivable on me! I'll have your hide-"
"Shut it, Nymphadora," spat Draco angrily, digging his wand's tip into her cheek. "Tells us why you were-"
"Don't call me Nymphadora!" bit out the witch, bristling. She lifted her chin, glowering at them. "I'm Tonks."
"Why, you filthy blood traitor," hissed out Draco, sinking his wand deeper into her cheek, "I should crucio you for your impertinent and misplaced pride in your disgusting muggle surname, you pathetic little half-blood-"
"I'd like to see you try, my dear cousin," spat Nymphadora, eyeing him with defiance and contempt. "You're going to regret this. I'll make sure the Aurors prepare a cell in Azkaban for you, next to your father's-"
"Enough!" said Orion sharply, when he saw that Draco was about to lose his composure and seriously curse her.
"And you, Black," snapped Nymphadora angrily, her eyes narrowing at him, "you're the Boy-Who-Lived. How can you do this when Dumbledore-"
"Yes, we'll talk about the old coot in a minute," said Orion sharply, nastily smiling at her while he quickly uncorked the vial in his hands.
Her eyes widened with dread when she gazed at the vial, but Orion didn't give her time to react. He lurched forward and tightly gripped her face, prying open her mouth and forcefully making her gulp down the Veritaserum, pinching her nose and shutting close her mouth with a tight grip.
Nymphadora stopped struggling, she shuddered, and in an instant her body slumped against her chair's backrest, her expression blank and her eyes foggy.
Satisfied, Orion flicked his wand to vanish the empty potion vial, and he stepped back to tower in front of her.
"What's your name?" he demanded.
"Nymphadora Tonks," replied the witch tonelessly.
"What's your occupation?" said Draco, glowering down at her.
"I'm an Auror for the English Ministry of Magic," said Nymphadora in a monotonous tone of voice.
Orion narrowed his eyes at her. "Are you a member of the Order of the Phoenix?"
"Yes."
"I knew it," hissed out Draco angrily, glancing at Orion. "The Death Eaters have suspected her for a while."
Orion nodded, and gazed back at her, clasping his hands behind his back. "Were you impersonating Barty Crouch Jr. under Dumbledore's orders?"
"Yes."
"Why?" asked Orion sharply. "What's your mission?"
"To gather information about You-Know-Who's plans and about your involvement with him."
Orion's jaw tightened, and he demanded briskly, "What have you told Dumbledore about me?"
"That you're still seeing and visiting You-Know-Who, and that you're maintaining some sort of relationship with him."
"Fuck!" grumbled Orion angrily, pacing in front of her while he fiercely rubbed his forehead. "The old coot knows. What is he playing at, then? Why is he still giving me lessons if he knows that I'm truly on the Dark's side-"
"What are you talking about?" said Draco, gazing at him with a frown on his face.
"Dumbledore is giving me lessons," snapped Orion, spinning around to stare at him. "He's not teaching me spells, mind you. He's just telling me stuff about Voldemort because he wants me to kill him. Or I should say that he wants Voldemort to kill me. But if he knows that I'm still going to Voldemort's Manor, and thus that my true allegiance is to the Dark, then what are Dumbledore's real plans for me?"
"Dumbledore wants you to fight the Dark Lord because of the prophecy the Daily Prophet keeps mentioning, right?" asked Draco, intently eyeing him. "The prophecy my father failed to acquire – it's real? It's truly prophesized that you're the one who can kill the Dark Lord?"
"Yes, in a way," replied Orion shortly, waving a hand dismissively. "But it doesn't matter." He rounded on the witch, and demanded crisply, "What are Dumbledore's plans for me?"
"I don't know. He's only told the Order that we should keep an eye on you, to watch and protect you, if needed."
"What are your orders regarding me?"
"To inform Dumbledore about your dealings with You-Know-Who."
Orion deeply inhaled, and bit out, "Were you Barty during my bonding ceremony with Voldemort?"
"Yes."
"And did you tell Dumbledore that I'm Voldemort's spouse?" gritted out Orion.
"No," replied Nymphadora tonelessly, her eyes unfocused and hazy. "I couldn't say anything because I had to sign a magical contract which bounded me to secrecy-"
"Well, thank Merlin for that," snapped Orion, carding his fingers through his hair. "What about Barty, where is he?"
"He's being held at the Order's Headquarters."
"Where is that?" demanded Draco, an eager glint in his eyes.
Nymphadora's mouth opened, and then clamped shut, her lips quivering and her body violently trembling.
Orion frowned at her, before he glanced at Draco. "She cannot tell us, even though she's dosed with Veritaserum. They must have casted-"
"A Fidelius Charm," interjected Draco, nodding at him.
"Exactly," said Orion, gazing back at the witch. "The Order has a Secret Keeper, correct?"
"Yes," replied Nymphadora tonelessly.
"And she won't be able to tell us who it is, either," said Draco, with an expression of deep disappointment.
Orion nodded, and rounded back on witch, demanding sharply, "Since when have you been impersonating Barty and how was he apprehended?"
"I started masking myself as Barty Crouch Jr. since last year," replied Nymphadora monotonously. "He was discovered in France, whilst attempting to recruit followers for You-Know-Who. The French Aurors captured him and alerted Dumbledore. He was extradited to England and Dumbledore placed him under the Order's supervision."
"Your Dark Mark is fake," said Orion briskly. "How have you been able to answer Voldemort's summons and cross his Manor's wards?"
"Dumbledore casted spells on my forearm," replied Nymphadora, staring into space with unfocused eyes. "He gave me a temporary tattoo which is a replica of the Dark Mark. I don't know what spells he created and casted to accomplish it. I feel the summons as a pleasant tingle on my skin, and I'm able to apparate through You-Know-Who's wards."
"So Dumbledore knows the location of the Dark Lord's Manor?" demanded Draco, narrowing his eyes at her. "And about the wards casted on it?"
"Yes."
"Bloody hell," muttered Draco troubled. He shot Orion a glance, and said sharply, "That explains a lot."
"What do you mean?" asked Orion, frowning at him.
"The Dark Lord informed me," said Draco caustically, "that he'll soon be using Malfoy Manor as his new Headquarters."
"I see," said Orion quietly, gazing at him. "I told you that he knew about her. We've been suspecting about a spy in the Death Eater ranks for a while. He knows about her and that Dumbledore is able to get through the Dark Manor's wards if he wants to. It makes sense for Voldemort to choose your Manor as the new Headquaters – Malfoy Manor has powerful, ancient wards casted and piled up throughout the centuries."
"Yes, but it doesn't mean that I like to be ordered to give up my own Manor," interjected Draco crisply. He pointed at the witch, and added troubled, "And if Dumbledore is able to cast spells on her so that she can cross the wards of the Dark Lord's Manor, then why hasn't the Order attacked it?"
"Because it would be fruitless," replied Orion, his jaw clenching while he thought about the old man and the horcruxes. "The old coot knows that he can't kill Voldemort, not yet - not ever, if it's in my power. And he wants me to attempt it. He wouldn't send the Order to attack Voldemort's Manor because it would only result in pointless casualties."
"He can't kill the Dark Lord yet?" said Draco, piercing him with his eyes. "What do you mean by that?"
"I can only tell you that Voldemort has ensured his own survival," replied Orion dismissively. "Dumbledore cannot kill him and he expects me to do it, and to die in the process."
Draco deeply frowned at him with concern. "Why? I don't understand-"
"I'll tell you someday, if necessary," said Orion sharply. "For now, it's best for you to not know, believe me. Nevertheless, whatever the old codger is planning, I won't allow him to use me to kill Voldemort. The old coot won't be able to kill Voldemort – ever."
"Alright," grunted Draco, shooting him a displeased glance. He towered over the bound witch, and demanded sharply, "Does Dumbledore know or suspect anything about my task?"
"Your task?" said Nymphadora in a monotone. "I don't know anything about any task of yours."
Draco nodded, looking assuaged and satisfied, and he glanced at Orion. "Do you want to ask her anything else?"
"No," said Orion quietly, "she doesn't seem to know anything about Dumbledore's plans for me. I doubt that Dumbledore tells the Order about his schemes." He eyed Draco carefully, and added, "Furthermore, you should know that the old coot is aware that Voldemort gave you the mission of killing him-"
"What!?" choked out Draco, his expression aghast and terribly worried.
"Dumbledore knows about that," said Orion calmly, placing a reassuring hand on his friend's shoulder, "but he doesn't know about the vanishing cabinet, or about your plan to have a group of Death Eaters entering the school. Moreover, Severus made him believe that he was the one who took the Unbreakable Vow, not I. Therefore, you have nothing to worry about. You'll get your chance to kill the old coot, and I'll be there with you."
"Very well," said Draco, clenching his jaw and squaring his shoulders. "What do you want to do with her? I think we should obliviate her and take her back to the Dark Lord-"
"No," interrupted Orion, with a deep frown on his face. "If we take her back and allow her to resume her spying activities while impersonating Barty, Voldemort will eventually kill her."
"Then let him do it," snapped Draco angrily. "She's a blood traitor and a spy, and it would be Dumbledore's fault anyway, for giving her this mission."
"Yes, it's the old coot's fault," interjected Orion quietly, "but I'm certain he was planning on getting her out before endangering her too much. I'm sure that Dumbledore is aware that Voldemort knows that she's a spy-"
"But why would Dumbledore send her, then?" asked Draco, frowning at him. "It's mightily stupid of the old man to place her in such a risky position. It's not as if the Order can afford to lose one of its members, and an Auror, to boot."
Orion scoffed, and angrily pointed at her. "Don't you see? This is how Voldemort and Dumbledore play against each other. This is how they communicate and signal each other; through misinformation! Each of them allows her to give the other bits of irrelevant information or covert misinformation, while trying to skim the truth out of layers of lies. That's how they use her. But in the end, if we don't get her out, Voldemort will kill her when her usefulness expires."
"Then what do you want to do?" demanded Draco, piercing him with his eyes while he crossed his arms over his chest. "If we don't get her back, then the Dark Lord will lose one of his pawns, and he'll be furious."
"True," said Orion, utterly unfazed, "but I don't want to risk her life. Dumbledore might not get the chance of pulling her out before Voldemort decides to kill her."
"That's the old coot's problem," hissed out Draco angrily, pointing at the still dazed and unaware witch. "It was his decision to use her in this way, and she's a blood traitor-"
Orion stared at him, interrupting shortly, "She's a Black-"
"She's a half-blood-"
"So am I!" snapped Orion crisply, narrowing his eyes at him. "I'm a half-blood Black, remember? Just like her."
"You're a different case," said Draco sharply. "You're on the Dark's side. You're not a blood traitor."
"She's a blood traitor because she was raised as a light witch," interjected Orion in a steely tone of voice. "But she has dark blood in her veins. I want to give her a chance."
Draco snorted snidely. "Do you truly think that you can persuade her to change sides?"
"Perhaps," said Orion curtly, leveling him with a hard gaze. "There are few Blacks left, Draco. And she's one of us. I won't allow her to be killed. I'm the current Head of Black House and she's family. She has muggle blood in her veins, but she also has Black blood. And blood matters above everything else, Draco!"
"Yes, blood matters," said a calm, quiet voice.
Startled, Orion snapped his head around and he clamped his mouth shut when he saw Narcissa coolly assessing the situation before her, standing in the threshold of the room. She gracefully approached them, her small steps elegantly fluid, while her long, silky, sky blue dress swished around her.
"Mother," said Draco surprised, bowing at her in greeting, before his eyes darted, worriedly and uncertainly, between Nymphadora and Orion. "We came here to, er-"
"My Dragon," said Narcissa warmly, intently inspecting him with a concerned glint in her pale blue eyes. "You don't look too well."
"Um, I was summoned-"
"Yes, I gathered as much," interrupted Narcissa calmly. "Please make sure to take some healing potions before you get back to school."
She turned around and stoically gazed down at the witch bounded to the chair, her face a beautiful mask revealing nothing, and she murmured, "Andromeda's daughter..." Her pale blue eyes snapped to Orion's, and she said quietly, "Blood matters. Do it."
Orion nodded, and she gave him a small, warm smile before she smoothly turned around and left the room.
Draco stared after her in silence, and finally muttered, "She wants you to help Nymphadora. But she-"
"She doesn't want to know the details," interjected Orion, nodding at him with satisfaction and a fond smile on his face. "In case-"
"In case the Dark Lord peruses her mind," continued Draco, gazing back at Orion. He clenched his jaw, and said in a low, angry voice, pointing at Nymphadora, "Nevertheless, I don't agree with want you want to do. She's an Auror and a member of the Order. You're making a mistake. What if she doesn't change sides?"
"Then, I'll kill her," said Orion impassively.
Draco stared at him, arching an eyebrow. "You would?"
"Yes," said Orion coolly. "I'll give her time, and I'll give her a chance, but I won't let her go free and I won't allow her to go back to Dumbledore just to betray us and later fight against us. We can't afford it. Therefore, if she doesn't change sides, I'll kill her."
Draco tiredly sighed, before he squared his shoulders, and said quietly, "Very well. We save her then. Where do we take her?"
"You are not taking her anywhere," said Orion pointedly, eyeing him with concern since the young wizard still looked frayed and exhausted. "You had a rough day and you need to take your potions now. You suffered the effects of a Dementor because of me and then Voldemort crucioed you. Not to mention that you're barely getting any sleep nowadays because of your task. I'll take care of her."
Draco resolutely shook his head. "No, we're in this together-"
"I appreciate it," interrupted Orion, warmly smiling at him while he placed a hand on his friend's shoulder, "but I truly don't need your help. Take your potions and get back to Hogwarts, Draco. And let me worry about Nymphadora. It's better if you don't know what I'll do with her, either. In case Voldemort attempts to get it from your mind."
"Fine," said Draco, heavily sighing. "Then I'll give you a portkey so that you can return here to floo to Severus' quarters in Hogwarts, after you take her wherever it is you're taking her."
"Thanks, a portkey would be useful," interjected Orion, grinning at him.
Draco nodded and approached the mantelpiece of the nearby fireplace, pointing his wand at a beautiful, small glass figurine of a wizard and witch dancing together. "Portus!"
The figurine vibrated and glowed in an intense blue for a few seconds, before it settled down, and Draco snatched it and handed it to Orion. "I'm going to get some potions from the storeroom. You can return this to me on Monday." He pierced him with his silvery eyes, and added with concern, "What will you say to the Dark Lord about Nymphadora?"
Orion tiredly rubbed his forehead. "The truth. Tomorrow I'll send him a letter from Durmstrang, and I'll see him next weekend. If he summons me before that, I'll ignore it. Hopefully, his anger will lessen during the week, before I see him in person."
"You're a fool for incurring in the Dark Lord's wrath just to save a blood traitor like her," muttered Draco, though he was gazing at him with an intense emotion glinting in his eyes. He eyed him closely, taking a step to be inches away from him, and added worriedly, "You don't look too well either. What happened between the Dark Lord and you, when you answered his summon?"
"We dueled and we quarreled," said Orion stiffly, glancing away from him. "But he doesn't know that I was with you."
"Did you tell him that you wanted to have a lover?" asked Draco, intently observing him.
"Yes," replied Orion, clenching his jaw while he stared back at him. "We reached a compromise on the matter but I… well, some things were said, and I… I'll end up doing whatever I want."
"And what is that?" said Draco, expectantly gazing at him while he slowly carded his fingers through Orion's hair.
Orion gazed back into Draco's silvery eyes, feeling a sudden blaze of desire and warmth. He smirked at him, before he gently grabbed Draco' nape and ghosted his lips over his. "I'll end up having you, when all this mess is over. Like we agreed, remember?"
"I remember," whispered Draco huskily, his silvery eyes darkening. He took a step back and dropped his hand from Orion's hair, while he smirked back at him. "Very well. I'll look forward to that."
"Me too," said Orion grinning at him.
Abruptly, they saw from the corner of their eyes how Nymphadora started stirring and repeatedly shaking her head, and Orion whipped out his wand, and snapped, "Stupefy!"
The witch slumped against her chair, and Draco glanced back at Orion. "I'll leave you to deal with her. I'll see you on Monday."
He shot Orion one last heated glance before he swiftly turned around and calmly sauntered away from the room, though Orion caught sight of a lingering limp in the young wizard's smooth strides. Draco had been injured by Voldemort much more gravely than what he had admitted.
Orion heavily sighed and carded his fingers through his hair, before he gazed down at the unconscious witch. He didn't know where to take her. He wouldn't go back to Riddle Manor, even though Voldemort was surely expecting to see him waiting in the bedroom. And though he still needed to have a serious conversation with the wizard, to demand some things and to discuss the plans for the war, he would leave the matter for their next meeting, since now he had to do something about Nymphadora Tonks.
He deeply frowned while he stared at her. He couldn't take her to Black Manor, because even though the wards wouldn't allow her to leave she would be alone with his house-elves and who knew what she could do. He wouldn't risk the destruction of his possessions. And he couldn't take her to Potter Manor either, since Grindelwald was there and no one knew about the wizard or that he had access to the Manor. There were other Black and Potter estates, but he couldn't leave her alone and unsupervised...
Suddenly, an idea struck him, and his eyes glinted with satisfaction. It would be imposing a burden and responsibility on his friend, but he couldn't think of a better solution. And the two of them knew each other from before, if he remembered correctly.
He aimed his wand at her, and said sharply, "Ennervate!"
Nymphadora's eyes snapped open, glancing around, alarmed and alert. But before she had time to say anything, he instantly hissed, "Clausus mentisss!"
A golden beam struck the witch's forehead and formed a golden sphere, before sinking through her head, enveloping her mind while Orion hissed in his mind all the commands and instructions to form the appropriate compulsion mind web. It was the same parsel spell he had casted on Severus years ago, so that the wizard wouldn't disclose his secrets. And because of it, now Nymphadora wouldn't be able to tell anyone about what had happened from the moment she had clumsily stumbled out of Voldemort's summoning chamber. She would remember, and she would be able to talk about it with Draco and him, but she wouldn't be able to speak about it or share the memory with anyone else, since that was exactly how he was building the compulsion mind web.
Once it was done, deeply satisfied, Orion aimed his wand at her one last time, and snapped, "Stupefy!"
The witch slumped back against the armchair, and Orion grimaced with commiseration. After all the stunning and enervating spells casted on her, she would have a wrecking migraine for a few days.
He smoothed his robes and flicked his wand, cancelling the snakes and ropes which bounded her to the chair. Then, he gently lifted her, tightly embracing her against his chest, and he plucked out the chain hanging around his neck. With an eager smile on his lips, he pressed one of her hands around the pendant of the stag, dog, and werewolf, also clutching it himself, and whispered, "Padfoot."
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They landed in the middle of a vast clearing in the midst of a dense forest. The night was dark, with countless, sparkling stars mottling the black, clear skies, and a crescent moon glowing with magnificent beauty, casting shadows from tall tress surrounding them.
Orion gaped while he glanced around, still tightly embracing the stupefied witch against his chest. Even though it was dark, he could perfectly see thanks to torches and gas lamps hanging from trees circling the vast expanse of the clearing. With a surge of pride, he inspected what Remus had built. He had never before used the portkey to visit the werewolf camp, but he was certainly satisfied with how Remus was using the money from the main Black vault.
He had expected a camp with tents, some fires here and there, and meager living conditions. But what he saw exceeded anything he could have imagined. It couldn't be described as a camp, it was more like a small, cozy village. To his right, there were countless small, wooden lodges, lined one next to the other. To his left, he could distinguish several simple buildings made of stone and wood: one was basically a roofed enclosure with large tables surrounded by wooden chairs and with a stone oven in the middle, lit by fire and carbon; another looked like a small school with a fenced playground to a side; and there was one with large windows through which he could see several shelves filled with books and some couches, it looked like a small library. The last wooden structure, which was in the center of the village, appeared to be a meeting place of sorts. It was a roofed enclosure, and he could see that its ground was covered by thick furs, with blazing fires nearby. From the distance, he couldn't distinguish the shifting forms faintly lit by the fires, but he was almost certain that the resting and undulating forms that were spread on the furs were people, sleeping all bunched together.
Orion arched an eyebrow at that, but he continued inspecting the place. There were pebbled paths leading to the buildings and lodges, trailing in the midst of the vast expanse of grass. The small lodges had patches of gardens on the front, and he could distinguish orchards at the back. And not too far away from the village, he could see the rippling outline of a river, and he could hear the rushing of the water. Moreover, everything was dimly lit by oil lamps hanging from the porches of the lodges and by some muggle gas lamps pinned to the wooden buildings. And there was one lodge which was slightly larger than the rest, with tall torches speared to the ground, lining the pebbled path which led to it. Furthermore, the village was encircled by a high, sturdy, wooden fence, from which he distinguished the faint glimmer of strong magical wards. And he could feel more wards all around the forest which surrounded the village. He deduced that the wards must keep out wandering muggles and wizards, and also keep in the werewolves when they transformed during full moon nights.
All in all, the 'camp' looked like some cozy and neighborly rural village. And Orion was immensely proud of Remus.
Smiling, he stopped inspecting his surroundings and decided to get going. He wasn't sure what time it was, but it was surely very late since no one was wandering around, though he could see candle light spearing through the curtains of some lodges as well as smoke coming out from small, stone chimneys. With the use of one knee, he hefted the unconscious Nymphadora higher up in his arms, to carry her in bridal style, and he advanced forwards, taking one of the pebbled paths which led to the lodges.
Abruptly, he felt something hard and pointy being stabbed into his neck, and a low, rough voice behind him growled with a heavy accent, "Are ye lost, human?"
Startled, for he hadn't heard anyone stealthily approaching him, he turned his face towards the voice and squinted into the dark. A muscled man in his late twenties was jabbing a wand into his neck. His features were strong, manly, and ruggedly handsome, with thin lips, wild curly hair, deep, menacing amber eyes, an old scar slashing through an eyebrow, and a rough line of stubble along his squared jaw. His broad, muscled chest, scattered with old scars, was unclothed and he was barefoot, though he was wearing black slacks.
Orion inspected him with curiosity, and finally said quietly, "I'm a wizard, not a muggle."
"Makes no difference," said the man gruffly, sinking the wand's tip deeper into Orion's neck. "Ye have no business here, wizard. How did ye get past our wards?"
"I used a porkey," replied Orion crisply. "I'm here to see Remus Lupin."
The man narrowed his amber eyes at him, and demanded harshly, "Our Alpha? Why do ye want to see him?" He pointed a finger at Nymphadora, and added in a low, rough voice, "And who's her?" He viciously bared sharp, gleaming teeth at him. "A human sacrifice? You're bringing us something tasty to eat?"
"No," said Orion caustically, clutching the witch tighter against his chest. "She's a friend. Now, will you take me to Remus?"
"That's Alpha for ye, wizard," spat the man brusquely, angrily narrowing his eyes at him.
"I'll call Remus however I want," snapped Orion impatiently. "And you're a wizard as well, aren't you? Given that you're stabbing me with your bloody wand."
"I'm a werewolf," growled the man angrily, poking his wand deeper into Orion's flesh. "And ye'll show respect to our Alpha and address him as such. Tell me yer name and why ye've come here before I rip ye apart, wizard."
Orion huffed angrily. "I'm Orion Black and Remus Lupin is my friend. He gave me a portkey to come here whenever I needed to. Thus, here I am, and I want to see him now."
"Ye're Black?" said the man in his harsh, low voice, his amber eyes scrutinizing him. "Our Alpha has told us about ye. Follow me, and no funny business or I'll snap yer neck."
Promptly, the man turned around and firmly strode along the pebbled path lined with torches, with Orion trailing after him, fuming.
"Who are you?" asked Orion to the broad, muscled back in front of him.
"That's none of yer soddin' business, wizard," harshly snapped the werewolf, without turning around.
They took some steps and halted in front of the wooden door of the largest lodge, the only one which had its pebbled path lined by torches. The werewolf knocked, before brusquely clutching Orion's shoulder and pushing him inside after opening the door.
Orion almost tripped and stumbled as he was roughly shoved inside, but he quickly regained his balance, grasping Nymphadora tightly against him, and he glanced around.
The small lodge was cozy and welcoming, and the furniture was austere but neatly arranged and seemingly comfortable. There were some framed wizarding pictures hanging from the wooden walls, a carpet on the floor, many shelves filled with books, a blazing fireplace with two comfortable sofas and a low table in front of it, curtained windows, several candles and oil lamps illuminating the place, an opened door which led to a kitchen with a dinner table, an ajar door which led to a small bathroom, and two other closed doors which Orion assumed to lead to bedrooms. And finally, against one of the walls, there was a large desk, with a tall, lean man seated at it, absorbedly reading a book.
"M'Alpha," said the young werewolf, lowering on one knee without touching the floor as he bared and stretched his neck to a side, as if offering it in submission, while he roughly clutched Orion's shoulder to push him in front of him. "This wizard claims to be Orion Black. He came unannounced and impertinently requested to see ye."
"Orion!" said Remus with surprise, after gazing up from his book. "What are you doing here?"
He stood up and quickly approached them, with a gentle smile spreading on his face while his gaze took in Orion.
Remus stopped short in front of them, glancing down at the witch in Orion's arms, his eyebrows shooting upwards. "Tonks? I wasn't aware that you knew her." He glanced back at Orion, and asked with concern, "What's happened? Is she injured? Why are you carrying her-"
"I'll explain soon enough," interrupted Orion, struggling against the rough grasp on his shoulder. He whipped his head around, and snapped angrily, "Unhand me, you brute!"
The young werewolf bared his teeth at him, and growled menacingly, "Watch how ye address me, wizard!"
"Call back your beast, Remus," hissed out Orion, unsuccessfully attempting to shift the body in his arms in order to reach his wand.
"Who are ye calling a beast?" snarled angrily the werewolf, sinking his fingernails into Orion's shoulder. "I could easily rip ye apart, wizard-"
"And I could easily kill you if I wasn't carrying her," bit out Orion, glaring at the man.
Remus glanced at the other werewolf, and said quietly, "Enough. Release him."
"Yes, m'Alpha," said the man gruffly, brusquely releasing Orion while shooting him a feral and menacing glower.
Orion stumbled a step forward, before he straightened up and hefted Nymphadora's body to secure her in his arms. "She's getting heavy, Remus. Where can I lay her down?"
"Come with me," said Remus, worriedly glancing at the unconscious witch. "I have a spare bedroom."
Orion nodded and followed the wizard into one of the bedrooms, gently laying Nymphadora on the bed. He smoothed his disheveled robes and went back into the sitting room, with a concerned Remus by his side.
"What has happened?" said Remus instantly, briefly glancing at the closed door of the bedroom they had left.
"I'll explain everything," interjected Orion tartly, before he glared at the other werewolf. "But can you tell him to leave? I don't wish to have an audience."
Remus glanced at him, startled, before a small smile spread on his face. "Oh, I trust Patrick with my life. He's my Beta."
"Your Beta?" said Orion, arching an eyebrow. "You've established a hierarchy in your packs?"
The only thing he knew about werewolves was what he had read from textbooks and learned at Durmstrang, which wasn't much, just the basics. And Remus had never taken the time to tell him about pack dynamics and their ways.
"Yes," replied Remus, gently smiling at him. He glanced at the other werewolf, and added, "Allow me to introduce you to each other. Patrick, this is Orion Black. I've already told you about him. And Orion, this is Patrick Connolly, known in my pack as Sharpfang. He was Greyback's Beta before he joined my pack. And now, he's my Beta."
"This is Orion Black, then?" said Patrick gruffly, eyeing Orion with scathing contempt. "He's the Boy-Who-Lived? He doesn't seem much to me, just another human weakling."
"And you just look like a flea-bitten mutt to me," snapped Orion caustically. "Appearances can be deceiving, can't they?"
"Insult me one more time, wizard," snarled Patrick, bearing his sharp teeth at him, "and ye'll know the meaning of pain."
Orion snidely scoffed. "Nothing that you could do to me, either with your fangs or wand, remotely scares me. Believe me, I know the meaning of pain already, and what you can dish out pales in comparison. If you want me to address you respectfully, then start by doing the same for me."
"He has a valid point, Patrick," interjected Remus, leveling at them a quelling gaze. "You haven't been polite, either."
"Fine," growled Patrick, eyeing Orion with distaste.
"You're a pureblood, aren't you?" said Orion crisply, closely observing him. "Connolly is an Irish dark pureblood surname."
"I was a pureblood," said Patrick brusquely. "Now, I'm a werewolf – a dark creature." His lips curled into a feral smirk, and he sneered, "Which is much better than being a physically weak wizard like ye."
"Oh, I can certainly see that you came from Greyback's pack," countered Orion acerbically. "Do you also like to infect little children, while devouring others, like he used to do?"
"I don't prize others with the wolf gift," snarled Patrick angrily, "nor do I kill for pleasure, not unless I'm given a good reason for it. And ye're starting to give me one."
"Yeah, whatever you say," scoffed Orion, before he addressed Remus, "I don't see why you took Greyback's Beta to be your own. You could have chosen someone more apt-"
"I heard that ye're the Dark Lord's bitch," interrupted Patrick nastily, with a vicious curl of his lips.
"I'm his spouse," hissed out Orion angrily. "And what were you – Greyback's fuck toy?"
Instantly, Patrick had his wand pressed against Orion's neck, growling furiously under his breath, while Orion had swiftly whipped out his wand, jabbing it into the werewolf's cheek.
"Enough, you two," said Remus firmly, shooting at them a sternly disapproving gaze. "I wish you could get along. Orion, he's my Beta and has my full confidence and trust. Patrick, I couldn't tell you before, but he is indeed the Dark Lord's spouse. Moreover, you already know that he's our ally. He's the one who lend me, and is still lending us, the money to build and maintain our community, and he's the one who helped me come to an agreement with the Dark Allies. So stand back, both of you. Now!"
"Alright," said Orion crisply, pocketing his wand while he impassively crossed his arms over his chest, though remaining highly alert in case the young werewolf tried anything. "I came here to discuss some matters, not to fight, after all."
"Patrick," growled Remus under his breath, leveling a warning glance at the other werewolf.
"Aye, m'Alpha," said Patrick in a low, rumbling voice, shooting at Orion a dark, malicious glower before also pocketing his wand.
"Good," said Remus quietly. "Let's take a seat, then."
Orion followed Remus towards the only fireplace in the lodge, seating on a sofa across from him, while Patrick took a chair to seat by Remus' right side, his deep, amber gaze never leaving Orion.
"Why did you bring Tonks here?" said Remus, frowning at him with worry. "I assume she isn't injured since you would have said something about it by now. What's happened to her, and when did you meet her?"
"I met her today," replied Orion, tiredly rubbing his forehead. He pierced him with his eyes, and added gravely, "She was spying for Dumbledore, Remus. She has been taking Barty Crouch Jr.'s appearance, passing off as a Death Eater. But it's rubbish, I'm sure Voldemort knows that it's her. I discovered that she wasn't truly Barty today, at Voldemort's Manor, and I whisked her away. Voldemort would have ended up killing her soon enough. That's why I've brought her here. I didn't know whom else to trust to watch over her, but you. And right now, she's just stupefied."
"Dear Merlin," grumbled Remus, shaking his head, "Dumbledore made her infiltrate Death Eater ranks? How could he endanger her like that-"
"Oh, come off it," snapped Orion, bristling. "It shouldn't surprise you! Dumbledore made you go back several times to spy on Greyback's pack when you were working for the Order. And the old coot also wants to use me to kill Voldemort. How can his manipulations still surprise you, Remus?"
"It doesn't surprise me," growled Patrick, piercing Orion with his amber eyes. "Fenrir always said that Dumbledore had to be killed. That's one of the few thing in which I still agreed with Fenrir, in the end."
Orion curtly nodded at him, before he glanced back at Remus. "You knew Nymphadora from before, right? When you worked for the Order?"
"Yes," replied Remus quietly, gazing at him. "I got along very well with her, before I left the Order when you convinced me to take charge of the werewolf packs in England. She…" He cleared his throat, suddenly looking uncomfortable. "Well, she…"
Orion arched an eyebrow. "She what?"
"She believed that she had a crush on me," said Remus quietly, looking uneasy.
"Did she now?" said Orion, eyeing him with amusement. He shot him a smirk. "And do you like her too?"
Remus sternly pierced him with his eyes, and said gravely, "I am much older than her and a werewolf, cub."
"So what?" interjected Orion impassively. "Neither of those things are an obstacle." He smugly smirked at him. "Anyway, I see that I brought her to the right place."
"You can't mean to leave her here," said Remus, his eyebrows shooting upwards. "This is a werewolf community, my cub."
Orion placidly rested back on his sofa, nonchalantly stretching out his legs. "Yes, but I saw and felt your wards, Remus. She'll be safe here, and you can lock her in this lodge, under several protective wards, on full moon nights, so that neither you nor the rest of the transformed werewolves harm her in any way. You said to the Dark Allies that your 'camp' would be a secure place, and I already saw that it is."
"We can't allow a human to live with us," interjected Patrick harshly, narrowing his eyes at him. "This community was established only for our kind. Not for ye to unload yer burdens on us-"
"I believe it's your Alpha's decision, not yours," interrupted Orion sharply. He pierced Remus with his eyes, and said adamantly, "I have nowhere else to leave her, Remus. Furthermore, you're the only one I can think of who can convince her to support the Dark, since you tell me that you got along with her and that she liked you. I'm giving her a chance with this. If she doesn't turn to our side, I'll have to kill her."
"You cannot possibly mean that!" said Remus aghast, searchingly gazing at him.
"I do," said Orion coolly, leveling at him a hard gaze. "She's a blood traitor-"
"Your father was also called that," interjected Remus sternly, eyeing him closely. "If he was still alive, would you kill him if he didn't support the Dark and what you have done?"
Orion clenched his jaw, and bit out, "If he was alive and turned against me, I would lock him away in some place safe for him and also so that he couldn't do any damage to the Dark. I care about family, but not to the point of risking our chances in the war. I wouldn't kill my own father, of course, but I would do anything else so that he wouldn't be an obstacle. Nymphadora is a different matter entirely. She's a Black, that's why I'm giving her this opportunity, but I don't know her and therefore I don't truly care about her. If she doesn't turn to the Dark side, I will kill her, Remus. She's an Auror and knows too much as it is. I won't risk it."
"You disappoint me, cub," said Remus quietly, piercing him with his eyes. "You weren't this ruthless before, and your position regarding Tonks is unjust and merciless. You can't expect her to change her views-"
"You might be right," interrupted Orion sharply, "but this is what she's getting. Furthermore, I don't care if my decision about her disappoints you. I saved her from Voldemort, and also from Dumbledore's clutches. Ultimately, I'm doing her a favor. Moreover, the important matter is that I'm not disappointing myself." He bore his eyes into Remus, and added harshly, "I cannot satisfy everyone. You wish I could be more compassionate and others wish I could be more ruthless and cold. In the end, I don't care about what all of you expect from me. I will act according to my own beliefs, and I'll be the wizard I want to be. Nothing you can say to me will change my mind on this subject."
Remus sadly shook his head. "I knew you would keep changing under Voldemort's influence-"
"This has nothing to do with Voldemort," snapped Orion angrily, narrowing his eyes at him. "For Merlin's sake, Remus, you're part of the Dark as well. Don't you see that ruthlessness is necessary nowadays? We're at war!"
"I'm part of the Dark," interjected Remus sternly, piercing him with a hard glint in his eyes, "because I want to give my kind the rights we deserve. And because all the other alphas from Europe and I reached an agreement with the Dark Allies, in which we wouldn't be attacking muggleborns and muggles. And you also promised me this. We are indeed at war, but I still expect you to be merciful when warranted, just like I will be. I'm the Alpha of this community, of all the werewolves in England, but I lead them with justice and fairness. And it's fairness what I want for muggles and muggleborns, and it's fairness what I want for Tonks."
"And it's fairness what they'll have," said Orion sharply. "I won't discuss muggles and muggleborns with you this time, but what I'm giving Nymphadora is a fair deal. She's an Auror, and as such she has persecuted dark wizards, her own kind, whether she likes to admit it or not. Giving her the chance to turn to the Dark is fair. Just like killing her for being an Auror, a blood traitor, an Order member, and a spy is also fair. Furthermore, she's a Black and I'm the current Head of Black House, therefore it's my right to decide her fate."
"You're speaking like a dark pureblood-"
"I am a dark pureblood," snapped Orion impatiently. "And I behave accordingly."
"You have muggle blood as well," pointed out Remus sternly, piercing him with his eyes.
Orion smirked at him. "Just a bit, yes. But it changes nothing."
"A bit? You're a halfblood-"
"Not quite," said Orion, his smirk widening whilst thinking about his Potter blood. "I'm closer to being a pureblood than a halfblood, actually."
Remus deeply frowned at him. "What do you mean by that?"
"I'll tell you someday soon," said Orion dismissively, catching sight of Patrick intently scrutinizing him with an interested glint in his amber eyes. "Now, will you take her in?"
"Yes," said Remus with a heavy sigh. "It seems that I have no choice given your position concerning her." He bore his eyes into his, and added sternly, "I'll make sure she's safe here and that she doesn't leave, and I'll attempt to convince her to support us and the Dark. But I'll also protect her from you if she doesn't want to turn."
Orion arched an eyebrow. "Would you really, Remus? Are you prepared to kill me, then?"
"Kill you?" said Remus appalled. He clenched his jaw, and said sharply, "Would you kill me if I was protecting her from you, my cub?"
"I would incapacitate you, harming you as less as possible," said Orion coolly, "in order to kill her if she decided to still support the Light. Therefore, do try to persuade her, Remus." He waved his hand dismissively. "Regardless, you'll have plenty of time for it. Just make sure she can never leave this place and that she can't communicate with anyone from the Light."
"Very well," said Remus curtly, his jaw still tightly clenched. "I won't fight with you over this subject any longer. But we'll have a further discussion if she doesn't turn to the Dark, cub."
"Fair enough," interjected Orion impassively. He sat up straight on his sofa, briefly glancing at Patrick before intently gazing back at Remus. "You've spoken openly about the Dark Allies, am I to assume correctly that he already knows about them?"
"Yes, as my Beta, I've been taking Patrick to several Dark Allies meetings," replied Remus, staring at him with curiosity. "Why do ask, cub?"
"I would like to hear his opinion about them," said Orion, arching an eyebrow at Patrick. "So Connolly, what do you think about the Dark Allies?"
"They are agreeable enough. They have accepted all our terms," replied Patrick in his low, gruff voice. "And some came here to inspect our community. They were satisfied with our security measures and our wards. They know that, when we transform during the full moon, the wards don't allow us to leave the forest to go hunting into nearby muggle and wizarding towns." He shot him a feral smirk. "Not that they cared about us attacking muggles, but they were satisfied that we couldn't harm any wizards. Furthermore, other alphas of continental European packs were invited here, and they have begun building up similar communities in their countries. Our idea is that every country should have its own town populated by werewolves, with the necessary security wards, of course."
Orion arched an eyebrow, staring at him with deep interest. "So this village will become a town, eventually? You'll have stores and more amenities?" He grinned at him. "And your own Diagon Alley?"
"Aye, exactly," said Patrick, his lips curving with satisfaction.
"And what about those in your pack who are muggles? How are they faring?"
"We have werewolves in our midst who are muggles," replied Patrick, "though the majority of us are wizards. Nevertheless, those who aren't magical are treated equally since they supply their own share of work to our community. And they are quite glad to be living amongst some of their kind who are also wizards. You see, we can protect 'em and make things easier for 'em. And they are welcomed to attend our school where some of us give lessons on wizarding subjects. Most of the werewolves who are wizards didn't get a magical education, but we're quickly changing that. We bought plenty of wands and books, and we're teaching 'em how to cast defensive and offensive spells and curses. We'll be ready for the war, and this place will always be a safe retreat for us. Our own lycanthropic town – Lycaon."
"Lycaon?" said Orion, quirking an eyebrow. "That's the name of this village?"
Patrick shot him a proud, feral smirk. "Aye, that's the name m'Alpha gave this community."
"After the king of muggle Greek mythology?" inquired Orion with curiosity, gazing at Remus. "According to Greek myths, Lycaon was the King of Arcadia, and the first known werewolf. Supposedly, he founded a pagan cult to the gods of the Olympus, gruesomely killing people to offer their blood in sacrifice to the gods. Outraged and horrified by it, Zeus descended in order to verify if the killing of innocents was true, and he punished Lycaon by turning him into a wolf when Lycaon served him human flesh during dinner. And Lycaon became the first werewolf, the first 'lycanthrope', which comes from the Greek terms of lykos and anthropos, which mean wolf and man, respectively."
Remus nodded at him with a small smile on his face, while Patrick snorted, and said scathingly, "So ye're a bookworm, Black. It figures."
"I like to read, yes," said Orion crisply, shooting him a glare.
"You're right about Lycaon," interjected Remus calmly, "he was the first werewolf muggles knew about, but he wasn't the first werewolf in history." He smiled at him. "And of course that mythical gods had nothing to do with it. Lycaon was just one more human who had been bitten and infected by a werewolf."
"Then what's the origin of werewolves?" asked Orion, deeply interested.
Remus heavily sighed, and replied quietly, "It's not known, but we believe that we come from ancient magical wolf-like creatures, which mated with humans and passed on their blood, and thus some of their traits, to half-breed muggles and wizards who descended from them. I believe that's how it all started."
"I see," mused Orion aloud, "and just like vampires, werewolves can create more of their kind by biting and turning humans, or by having children." He pierced Remus with his eyes. "A saw a small playground next to a house that looked like a school. You have children in your packs, then?"
"Yes," replied Remus, "some in Lycaon came to form part of my packs with the children they already had, and some others had children whilst being here."
"Are they werewolves too?"
"It depends on who their parents are," said Remus calmly. "Sometimes, the child of a witch or wizard and a werewolf doesn't carry the lycanthropic trait, and sometimes they do, and it's detected in their first full-moon transformation, when the child turns fifteen. If both of the child's parents are werewolves, then the child always carries the lycanthropic trait, and he becomes a werewolf with his first transformation at fifteen."
Orion nodded, before he gazed at him, troubled, "And you're allowing your pack to freely have children. I'm sure that you're aware that you're breaking the Ministry's Werewolf Code of Conduct of 1673. Remus, if the Ministry of Magic found out about this and about Lycaon, they would send Aurors to whisk all of you to Azkaban. You know this, don't you?"
"Let 'em try," snarled Patrick angrily, baring his teeth menacingly. "We have the right to have our own children. We won't be treated as animals that should be castrated, in their opinion!"
"I know, and I agree with you," interjected Orion sharply. "But it's very risky. Prejudice against your kind is very high. The English Ministry of Magic alone has several units trying to control you. There's the Beast and Being Division of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, and they also have the Werewolf Registry and the Werewolf Capture Unit. I'm sure that none here have registered, and since they have also broken the law by having children, they could easily be persecuted by Aurors and by the Werewolf Capture Unit."
"That's why we have powerful wards in and around Lycaon," said Remus quietly, piercing him with his eyes. "The wards would alert us if wizards entered the forest, and we would be prepared to fight or flee-"
"To fight, m'Alpha," interrupted Patrick fiercely, with a low growl. "We will fight."
Remus nodded, and then stared at Orion with a small smile on his face. "We are breaking the law now, my cub, but we're doing what you and I agreed on and planned for."
"Yes, I know," interjected Orion, relaxing. "According to our allegiance, and to your pact with the Dark Allies, werewolves will have the same civil rights as wizards, and that includes having children, of course. It's just that you should be careful, because we haven't won the war yet, and if we lost, the Ministry will heavily punish the survivors, and that includes werewolf children. You should have a plan for this scenario, to protect them."
"Are you planning on losing, Black?" snarled Patrick scathingly.
"No," replied Orion impassively, "but you should know that if the Dark lost you would be on your own – and you should plan for that possibility. The Dark Allies will die in battle or flee if we started losing, the Dark Lord wouldn't care about you either, and I would be dead, and therefore unable to offer you protection or allies."
"Why wouldn't you survive if the Dark lost the war, my cub?" asked Remus, eyeing him with a deep frown of worry. "Sure, the war will be fierce and many will die, but you have many willing to protect you. And your allies-"
"It doesn't matter why," interrupted Orion dismissively, "just that I'll either succeed or die in the attempt of winning the wars for the Dark. I've known this for a while, it doesn't bother me. But you should know that if I die and Voldemort survives, he won't fulfill the terms of your allegiance with him and the Dark Allies. I have always warned you about this. Furthermore, if I die, I'm fairly certain that the Zraven Clan would break all ties with our side. They are my allies only, they expressed this clearly. They'll support me but no other. Your pack, the Zraven Clan, and some wizards and witches who have allied themselves to me, will come together to fight during battles, and I'll be with all of you, leading. But that union will break if I don't survive, and you should plan for it, just in case."
Remus remained silent, observing him with troubled concern, but Patrick nodded and said gruffly, "Very well, we'll make plans for that eventuality." He bared his teeth, and added with a sneer, "We weren't counting on having vampires helping us, in any case. Blood-suckers can't be trusted. They care for no one but their own kind."
"And so do you," interjected Orion sharply, narrowing his eyes at him. "Your views about werewolves are just as purist as Greyback's, it seems to me."
"They are," said Patrick brusquely, piercing him with feral amber eyes.
Orion nodded in acceptance, since he understood it. After all, most dark purebloods were like that; proud and certain about their own superiority. And the same applied to creatures such as vampires and werewolves. The Zravens certainly regarded themselves as being superior to any other creatures or humans.
He leaned back on his sofa, and decided to change the subject to something less serious and grave. He glanced at Remus, and said with a warm smile, "Anyway, I'm glad to have seen Lycaon. This is what you had envisioned for your kind, all along. I remember vividly how we planned together, when you came to Severus' house. We planned how I would offer to the Dark Allies your allegiance through me, and we planned for you to build something like Lycaon in the future. I didn't tour the village, but I'm very impressed by it, nonetheless. I think it's wonderful that you already have your own village. The muggle vampires have their own covens and wizarding vampires have their citadels. It was high time for your kind to take a leaf out of their book."
"It was," said Remus, smiling back at him. "In time, Lycaon will grow into a town, and then into a larger community of werewolves. And, like vampires, we'll have our own secretive home, and we'll be able to go into wizarding communities if we wish to. Without fearing persecution or discrimination."
"If we win the war," pointed out Orion quietly.
"Yes," interjected Remus, gazing at him gravely. "If we win."
"Will ye still supply us with funds?" abruptly demanded Patrick, narrowing his eyes at Orion.
"Of course," replied Orion, arching an eyebrow. "Why wouldn't I?"
"And ye ask nothing in return?" said Patrick brusquely, piercing him with a hard, suspicious glint in his eyes.
"Remus is my friend," said Orion sharply, "and he's using the funds of the main Black vault. My father would have loved to help him in this way, and money isn't an issue for me. Thus, I'm doing what my father would have done in my place. And you're already my allies. So no, I won't ask anything in return-"
"As long as we always remain yer allies," interrupted Patrick gruffly. "Right?"
Orion smirked at him. "Of course. I'm not an idiot. If you turned against me, why would I fund my enemies?"
"There's no question about turning against you, my cub," interjected Remus quietly, gazing at him with gentle affection, "no matter our disagreements."
Orion warmly smiled at him. "I know. Thanks." He straightened up, and said gravely, "There's one more thing I want to ask you. What happened with Greyback? You told me that you would have to fight him in order to assume the leadership of all the packs of England. You are now the only Alpha, so did you fight him?"
"No," said Remus, looking angry. "Indeed, by tradition we should have fought until death, and the survivor would have earned the right to be the Alpha. But he never showed up to our appointed confrontation. By then, he had already lost many pack members who came to join me here, when Lycaon was starting up. I think Fenrir realized that fighting me was already pointless. He left the few who still made up his pack, and he thoroughly joined Lord Voldemort. I don't know where he's living, but I do know that he's now a full-time Death Eater."
"Fenrir should swallow his pride and join ye, m'Alpha," interjected Patrick gruffly.
Orion shot him a surprised glance. "You would like Greyback to become part of this community? I thought you didn't like him-"
"He has many faults," replied Patrick briskly, piercing him with his eyes, "but he cherishes the wolf in him, rightly taking pride in what he is. Because of this, he's one of the most powerful werewolves, since he completely embraces his inner wolf, and not many are able to do that." His gaze momentarily flickered to Remus, before he continued, "Fenrir was not always unrestrained and crazed like he's at present. The stint he spent in Azkaban, affected by Dementors but most importantly negatively affected because he was away from his pack, severely damaged his inner wolf, making him savagely wild. And he suffered much because his mate-"
"Patrick," growled Remus, shooting him an angry and menacing glance.
"Ye haven't told him, m'Alpha?" said Patrick, arching an eyebrow in all innocence, which didn't fool Orion for a second. "He's like a son to ye, so ye have told me, at least. Yet, you didn't tell him that-"
"You're outstepping your boundaries, Beta," snarled Remus, piercing Patrick with narrowed eyes glinting with fury.
"Forgive me, m'Alpha," said Patrick in a low voice, lowering his head.
Orion's eyebrows shot to his hairline. He had never seen something like this, and much less Remus behaving like that. It was certain that Remus had changed much due to all the time he had spent being an alpha for so many werewolves, while completely embracing the dark nature of his creature. He guessed that pack dynamics worked like this between an alpha and his pack members. And it thoroughly intrigued him.
"What is Connolly talking about?" he said carefully, staring at Remus.
"Nothing," snapped Remus fiercely, shooting a heavy glance filled with threatening warnings at the other werewolf. "You can leave us, Patrick."
"Aye, m'Alpha," said Patrick, instantly standing up. He inclined on a partially bent knee, bowing at Remus, before he glanced at Orion, his lips curving. "See ye soon, Black. And keep the money flowing in."
"Sure," snorted Orion, with a roll of his eyes. "I'll always maintain you cozily comfortable, Connolly. Don't worry about that."
"I won't," said Patrick, baring his teeth in a wide, feral smile.
After the werewolf swiftly stalked out of the lodge, Orion turned back to gaze intently at Remus. "What aren't you telling me?"
Remus heavily sighed, and he flicked his wand. Two tumblers and a bottle filled with a golden liquid came shooting out from the kitchen, and he served them the drinks. He handed one tumbler to Orion, and Orion took a long sip, discovering that it was butterbeer and feeling a bit disappointed. He had got used to drinking strong wizarding alcoholic beverages during his after-lessons periods with Grindelwald. But he knew for a fact that Remus would frown disapprovingly at him if he asked for firewhiskey. Never mind that he would be turning seventeen during the summer, the werewolf could still be ridiculously overprotective at times.
"Patrick shouldn't have said anything," said Remus quietly, after settling down his tumbler on the low table before them. "It's not important, cub. And it's truly something I don't think you should know yet. You're still too young."
Orion arched an eyebrow, a bit perplexed. Remus had just slipped back to gentle wizard mode, it seemed. And now secretive as well, to boot.
"I'm old enough to be told about anything," he said, eyeing him closely. "And I'm married to Voldemort, Remus, there's little that can shock me. I'm not an innocent schoolboy."
"You aren't," agreed Remus with a hint of regretful dejection, "much to my consternation."
Orion held back a roll of his eyes, and he pressed on softly, "Come on, Remus. Tell me what Patrick wanted me to know. You can trust me."
"I know," said Remus firmly. "Regardless, it isn't something I wish to disclose. You have enough on your mind."
Orion sighed with resignation, and said dismissively, "Very well, as you will."
After a brief stretch of silence, Remus intently observed him, and asked, "Something has happened to you, hasn't it?"
"What do you mean?" said Orion, staring at him with a blank expression on his face. He scoffed, and added mockingly, "You mean finding out that Barty Crouch Jr. has really been Nymphadora Tonks since last year? Or perhaps having to whisk her away from Voldemort's Manor, then having to force the truth out of her –without harming her, don't worry. Or you mean-"
"You know perfectly well what I mean," interrupted Remus quietly, his gaze piercing and searching. "Something personal happened to you." A small, forlorn smile broke on his face. "I could always read past your father's masks, you know? Sirius always appeared to be strong, cool, mischievous, and devilish. But I could see through it, when he felt down. When he escaped from his home and felt he had nowhere to go, before James invited him to live with the Potters. Or when Regulus took the Dark Mark and Sirius was frantically worried about him, but he didn't want to show it." His expression became somber, and he added, "Or when he became estranged from Regulus for a year and some months after leaving his home, missing him terribly, just to find out in the newspapers that his little brother had been brutally killed. He acted indifferent, but I could tell he blamed himself for not protecting Regulus and for having abandoned him when he left his home. I saw him clutching a picture of Regulus, sobbing with wrecking grief and despair. But with us, he never showed when he was in pain. He was always a cheerful trickster. He would always say he was 'as jolly as a pixie'."
"Nothing remotely like that has happened to me," said Orion tightly, not liking to remember that he owed the death of one more relative to Voldemort; that of an uncle he would never know. "I'm fine."
Remus ruefully smiled at him. "And you always say you're 'fine', when you're not."
"What do you want to know?" interjected Orion tiredly, gazing back at him.
"I want you to tell me what happened to you," replied Remus calmly. "What is paining you."
"Nothing important," said Orion dismissively. "I simply had a quarrel with Voldemort."
"And perhaps he said or did something which hurt you?" interjected Remus, worriedly eyeing him closely.
"I told him I loved him," said Orion flatly, with a hint of anger directed at the werewolf for persisting in digging in.
"Ah, I see," murmured Remus quietly, gazing at him. "And what did he reply to that?"
Orion sneered, "What do you think he said? It was certainly not 'I love you too'!"
"Hmm," said Remus, steepling his fingers together on his lap, while he comfortably leaned back on his sofa, his gaze never breaking away from Orion's. "Do you remember all my objections when you decided to become Voldemort's spouse?"
"Vividly."
"I have to admit," said Remus calmly, "that I was mistaken."
Orion blinked at him, utterly befuddled. "Meaning?"
"I still don't like the wizard," said Remus quietly. "I would have preferred someone better for you; certainly not a ruthless and merciless murderer like him. But I've been meeting him frequently at the Dark Allies gatherings, and I think I understand him better now. He's a very complex wizard, prone to never show or say what he's really thinking or feeling, accustomed to have his orders instantly obeyed, used to be domineering and controlling without opposition, masking everything under a façade of collected coolness and indifferent impassivity, and -most importantly of all- he's very aggressively offensive when he feels threatened by someone or something he doesn't understand. And this perceived weakness and loss of control frightens him terribly, thus, he cruelly lashes out."
A small smile curved his lips, and he added, "I wouldn't cope if I was the spouse of someone like him. I think he would break me eventually, due to sorrow, despair and frustration. Nevertheless, whatever he told you, whatever his reaction was when you told him you loved him, I remember clearly the words he said to you during your bonding ceremony. Neither of you mentioned love or affection; both of you were very careful in your vows. Regardless, I didn't see a Dark Lord in him that day, I saw a wizard who probably loves you but doesn't know it. He'll possibly never understand it if faced with his own affection for you, and he'll probably never admit it to himself or to you. Nonetheless, that's what I saw in him that day, and it's what I still see whenever he mentions you during the Dark Allies meetings. And that's why I never again told you that you had made a mistake when becoming his spouse."
After a long stretch of silence, Orion finally said tonelessly, "Even if I believed that you could be right - and trust me, I can't because I don't see it, not after what he said to me- it wouldn't change the fact that I need more. If he can't understand or accept what he feels for me, and if he can't openly express it, it's useless to me. It's like saying nothing at all. I need confirmation, Remus, not my own speculations about what he truly feels. And as you have admitted yourself, he'll possibly never be able to have, comprehend, or admit his own emotions – and that's not enough for me. I admit that he told me from the start that he didn't do fluff or romance, but that's not what I want from him, not always, at least. The problem is that I came to love him, and that changed everything, because I want to be loved back, openly. Someone adviced me to enjoy being loved while I can, before... before the war changes me and I stop caring about such things as love. That's why I feel that what Voldemort is giving me isn't enough."
"I understand," said Remus quietly, with a grave expression on his face. "So if you cannot get this from him, what do you expect to do? Won't you help him realize and confront his own feelings-"
"No," snapped Orion angrily. "What – do you want me in a vulnerable position just so that he can crush me again? Never. I'm not a self-destructive fool. It was contempt what I saw in his eyes when I told him I loved him. And I don't want to see that, ever again. Whatever his conflicts are, they are his problem, not mine. I won't risk it again. As for what will I do…" He smirked at him. "It's very simple. I'll get from others what he cannot give me."
Remus' eyebrow shot upwards, and he asked sternly, "You're planning on being with others whilst you're Voldemort's spouse?"
"I'm planning on having lovers," said Orion, smirking with deep satisfaction.
Remus sadly shook his head. "You'll only end up hurting him and yourself. That's not the way to fix your relationship with him. That's escaping from your marital problems and worsening the situation-"
"He's fine with it," scoffed Orion mordantly. "What's more, he wants to share lovers, Remus. He wants to have threesomes, for Merlin's sake!"
"That's utterly foolish," said Remus curtly, piercing him with his eyes. "I don't think he truly wants that and you'll find yourself regretting it-"
"I followed friends' advice once," interrupted Orion sharply, "and it was a terrible mistake. I won't do it again. I know how his mind works, and I'm the only one who understands the dynamics of our relationship. I'll proceed with my plans and that's it. I don't need your advice, thanks. I know what I'm doing."
"I don't think you do, cub," said Remus quietly, leveling him with a stern gaze. "I think you're making a huge mistake-"
"I don't want to discuss it further," said Orion crisply, instantly standing up. "I appreciate that you're trying to help me, but it's unnecessary."
"At least consider what I've told you," interjected Remus, placing a hand on his shoulder.
"Yeah, I will," said Orion dismissively.
He shook his head, not wanting to think about Voldemort, since he had already made up his mind and he wasn't going to change his decision. Voldemort's words and reaction had deeply hurt him, and he wouldn't serve himself on a platter just to be crushed again. He would give the wizard what he had asked for, acting as if their marriage was nothing more than a convenient political union of power, allies and bloodlines, with the plus of having hot sex whenever they felt like it.
Swiftly, he pulled out of his thoughts, realizing that he should get going since he still had to get back to Hogwarts, and since he had already covered some of the issues he had wanted to discuss with Remus.
He fondly smiled at the werewolf, and said warmly, "I have to leave, but it was great to see you after so long. I missed you."
"I missed you too, cub," said Remus, smiling at him while he ruffled Orion's hair. "Come back whenever you can."
"Will do," said Orion, shooting him a smirk. "Oh, and do take care of Nymphadora, and persuade her to change sides. You'll be greatly easing matters for me if you accomplish it."
"I'll try," said Remus gravely, piercing him with his eyes. "But I'll still protect her if you decided to-"
"Let's not cross that bridge until we're there," interrupted Orion dismissively. "Many things could change by then." He plucked out a wand from his robes, handing it to the werewolf, and added, "This is the wand Nymphadora was carrying. Give it to her if you feel it's safe to do so. But remember, she mustn't leave this place and she mustn't communicate with anyone from the outside."
"Very well," said Remus with a deep sigh, pocketing the wand in his jacket.
Orion smiled, and patted him on the back. "Take care, Remus."
"You too, my cub."
Orion nodded and swiftly opened the front door. He glanced at the werewolf over his shoulder, and said quietly, "Come to Black Manor on Sunday morning. We'll be either celebrating or having a funeral. But either way, I would greatly appreciate if you could be there."
"A funeral?" whispered Remus, his expression holding a hint of relief battling against grief and sorrow. "You'll finally burry your father's body? It's a wise decision, cub. I was starting to worry about your insistence on keeping it uselessly alive. It's hard, but the death of a loved one has to be accepted-"
"A funeral or a celebration," said Orion pointedly. "There's hope, still."
Remus frowned at him, looking deeply troubled and concerned about him. "My cub, a Dementor's Kiss can't be-"
"I'll expect you," interrupted Orion. "Please be there."
"I will," said Remus, nodding at him, though he seemed even more worried than before.
But Orion simply beamed a smile at him, before he hastily left the lodge and closed the door behind him.
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Under the dark skies scattered with sparkling stars, Orion was deeply absorbed in his own thoughts regarding all that he had learned that night, and most particularly wondering what Remus hadn't told him under the excuse that he was 'too young'. He had taken a pebbled path, following it towards the warded fence which enclosed Lycaon, in order to use the portkey Draco had given him to return to Malfoy Manor.
He wasn't inspecting the village this time, but rather busy going through his conversation with the werewolves. There was much he would need to discuss with Remus about the future plans for the war and the post-war era, if he survived. And he realized that he would have to learn much more about werewolves and how the packs functioned, as well as about wizarding vampires like the Zravens. He would need to know in order to plan how the wizarding world should be led and regulated in the future, so that everyone –wizards and creatures- could be satisfied and live in peace.
With his ambitious aim to become the Vindico, he would not only be concerned about what to do regarding the balance between the Sources and the matter of blood purity, muggles and muggleborns, but he would also need to discover how creatures fit in the grand scheme of things.
Abruptly, he felt a hand grabbing his neck from behind, while a low, gruff voice said into his ear, "Are you lost again, wizard?"
"Merlin, Circe, and Morgana!" yelped Orion startled, though he instantly recognized the voice. "Must you always ambush me, Connolly?"
The werewolf chuckled, the sound rumbling and harsh, and Orion stiffened in the shadowy darkness when he felt the man nuzzling his neck while deeply sniffing him.
"What the hell are you doing?" snapped Orion angrily, trying to turn around and failing when the werewolf tightly clutched his shoulders from behind.
"Smelling ye," said Patrick flatly, harshly keeping him in place while he roughly nuzzled Orion's neck, taking in deep breaths.
Orion was about to whip out his wand and curse the annoying werewolf into the next century, when Patrick brusquely released him and stepped around to tower in front of him.
"Just like I thought," said Patrick gruffly, piercing him with narrowed amber eyes. "I caught a whiff of strange dark magic in ye the first time, but also of something else." His eyes narrowed further, and he added accusingly, "Ye have creature blood in ye."
"Yes," said Orion, quirking an eyebrow impassively. "I have vampire blood. You must know this already, since I told the Dark Allies that I had been given Zraven blood, and Remus knows this too."
Patrick bared his teeth, and snarled, "I don't like blood-suckers."
"I'm not a vampire myself," interjected Orion crisply, narrowing his eyes at him. "And you'll do well to remember that the Zravens are my allies and, therefore, yours as well."
The werewolf's eyebrow, marred by the scar, twitched with annoyance, but he grabbed Orion's forearm, and said briskly, "Come, there's something I wanna show ye."
Without giving Orion a chance to voice his complains, Patrick roughly pulled him along a pebbled path, while demanding, "Did m'Alpha tell ye?"
"You mean about the thing he didn't allow you to say?" said Orion intrigued. Patrick sharply nodded, and Orion huffed with indignation. "No, Remus said that I was 'too young' to know about it."
Patrick snorted, side-glancing at him, while Orion tried to keep up with his long strides. "Aye, ye're still a cub to his eyes."
"Are you going to tell me, then?" interjected Orion impatiently.
"No," said Patrick harshly, "that's for m'Alpha to tell, not I."
"Then where are you taking me?" demanded Orion sharply.
Patrick shot him a feral smirk, and sneered, "Since ye're our ally, ye need to understand a few things about us. Not that I like to disclose wolf matters to a wizard. Alas, it can't be helped."
The werewolf stopped short in his tracks, and roughly pulled Orion to stand in front of him, pressing Orion's back against his nude chest, and gripping Orion's face so that Orion was forced to look forward. "This is what I wanted ye to see. Do ye understand what it is?"
Orion blinked in the darkness, his sight becoming used to it while he gazed at the scene dimly lit by flickering fires. They were standing in front of the wooden structure in the middle of the village. And now he could distinguish all the details. It was a roofed enclosure, its grounds completely covered by thick furs, and on them, a sea of entangled or huddled bodies. Indeed, it was people who laid there; some nestled together deeply asleep, others resting while spooning another, and others – to his embarrassment- were moaning and grunting, caressing their partner while coupling. Their age varied, but there weren't any children, there were both females and males, and some were scantily dressed while others were naked and covered by furs.
"Er…" said Orion uncomfortably. "What is this? Why do they sleep here if there are lodges?"
"This is Lycaon's Lair," replied Patrick, with a low, rumbling chuckle. "This is how a pack comes together at night. True, we built logdes for ourselves, to have independent homes. It was m'Alpha's idea to build lodges, so that those who wanted could sleep in their lodge if they wished too. Some still, erroneously, want to keep up the pretense of civilized manners. But it goes against the wolf." He shot an arm over Orion's shoulder, pointing ahead, and added gruffly, "This is how a pack should lay at night. Do you feel it – what brings and binds us together?"
"Yes," whispered Orion mesmerized, while he gazed at the mass of undulating bodies.
Indeed, he felt it; a sense of warm belonging between them, of unabashed and instinctual desire to be together, huddled and content, giving way to the nature of their creatures.
"This is what's natural for us," said Patrick in a low, rumbling voice. "Fenrir always understood this, and m'Alpha also does, now."
"How did you live with Greyback?" asked Orion with curiosity, shifting to side so that he could see Patrick's face, dimly lit by the nearby fires.
"We never had something like this," replied Patrick gruffly, piercing him with his amber eyes. "We didn't stay long in one place. We usually had to move from forest to forest, or from cave to cave, since there were always Ministry officials on the hunt, with the intention of forcing us to register as werewolves." His lips curled angrily, baring his teeth. "But Fenrir never allowed that to happen. He protected us from being tagged and monitored as if we were wild beast that had to be controlled and neuterized."
"And are you satisfied with what Remus has done here?" inquired Orion, intently observing him. "This is what could be considered as 'civilized', at complete opposites of how Greyback made his pack live."
"Aye, of course I'm satisfied with m'Alpha," said Patrick briskly. "He has given us a permanent place to call home. The wolf in us is a nomad, but our human part yearns for stability. With Fenrir, we were forced by circumstances to always keep on the move, but now we have both things. We have a Lair and we have a home which is heavily protected by wards, so that Ministry officials can't easily find us or attack us without warning. Each of us can enjoy what is preferred: civilized individuality by having our own lodges or to follow our creature's natural wildness by coming together at the Lair." He pierced him with his amber eyes, and added gruffly, "Fenrir would have also liked to give us something like this; it was his plan for the future. A vision he shared with many of us, m'Alpha included. But Fenrir didn't have the means for it."
"You mean that he didn't have the money to found and maintain a village like Lycaon."
"Exactly," said Patrick brusquely, gazing at him. "M'Alpha could give us this because he has yer support; the backing of yer money." He narrowed his eyes, and added sharply, "If ye stop funding us, we would lose this-"
"I won't stop funding you," interrupted Orion vehemently. "I already told you that. I approve of what Remus has done, and what he wants for your kind. And he'll always count with my support."
"Good," said Patrick gruffly.
Orion pierced him with his eyes, and said quietly, "By the way you speak about Greyback, I can tell that you respected him-"
"I still do," interrupted Patrick sharply.
"Then what changed?" demanded Orion, searchingly staring at him. "You were his Beta, but you left him to join Remus. Why?"
"Fenrir and I didn't see eye-to-eye in some matters," replied Patrick flatly. "He still believed that violence was the answer, while m'Alpha prefers to use diplomacy first, by allying himself with someone like ye, and violence later, for when the war truly erupts. Furthermore, I never approved when Fenrir liked to attack little children to turn 'em into werewolves when they're young, to make them loyal to him. So when I heard the rumors within my pack that there was an Alpha with the intention of building a permanent home for werewolves, and with the support of the Boy-Who-Lived, I left Fenrir and came here. Mind ye, I'm no traitor. I told him first, and he allowed me to leave." Abruptly, he tightly clutched Orion's chin, and added fiercely, "Nevertheless, Fenrir is still a great Alpha, even if he doesn't have a pack anymore, and even if he isn't as stable as he once was. It's imperative that Fenrir is saved, Black. Us, werewolves, will need him in the future."
Orion's eyebrows shot to his hairline, before he narrowed his eyes at him, and snapped sharply, "You have Remus. He's your Alpha. Why would you need a crazed, viciously violent werewolf such as Greyback-"
"Ye ignorant wizard," said Patrick with a harsh chuckle. "Whether m'Alpha likes it or not, Fenrir is part of us. Werewolves don't turn against their Sire, and many here were bitten by him. We long for him, Black. We need him and want him back. Fenrir can be brought back into what he was before being imprisoned in Azkaban. His wolf would help him with that if he became part of us; if he lived here, in Lycaon, with many of his former pack members and with the new packs m'Alpha joined us with."
"So that's what you want – to have Greyback here with you?" interjected Orion, scrutinizing him. "I'll be straight with you, I've always immensely disliked Greyback, but I know that he's a powerful wizard. And if what you say is true –that he can become sane and more stable- then I would agree with your wish. But answer me this, why have you told me all of this? There's little I can do about it. It seems to me that it's a matter to be discussed and decided by the pack, and by Remus-"
"Precisely," interrupted Patrick, his lips curling with satisfaction. "It's m'Alpha's decision to offer Fenrir a place with us. That's how you can help, because m'Alpha won't listen to me regarding Fenrir, since he also dislikes him. No, I should better say that m'Alpha hates Fenrir. That's what needs to be changed. And I saw how m'Alpha listens to you, and how you listen to him. There's trust and deep affection between ye, so ye can convince him to consider accepting Fenrir in Lycaon."
"And would Greyback accept?" said Orion, frowning at him.
"I think he would," replied Patrick gruffly. "It's not good for him to be separate from his pack. A lone werewolf suffers very much, Black. It isn't doing Fenrir any good, just like it didn't do him any good to be in Azkaban, away from his pack, for so long. And trust me, Fenrir knows this. Thus, he would come to Lycaon if m'Alpha offered it."
Orion heavily sighed and carded his fingers through his hair. "Fine, I'll think about it. But to be honest, I don't think I can influence Remus on this matter. I know perfectly well that Remus hates him, since Greyback was the one who bit and turned him when Remus was just a ten-year-old boy. I don't see how Remus could forgive-"
"It's not a matter of forgiveness but of acceptance," interrupted Patrick sharply. "Aye, Fenrir shouldn't have turned m'Alpha when he was so young. Werewolves usually turn adults, people who are seventeen or older, since the bitten wizard or muggle should be mature and physically strong enough to endure the transformations, without fighting against it and without unnecessarily suffering. Nevertheless, it happened, and m'Alpha should accept his Sire, not hate him. It's doing great damage to both of 'em, since it goes against the nature of their wolves."
"Alright," said Orion tiredly. "I understand what you've told me, and I'll discuss the matter with Remus soon. But don't expect too much. I won't press him to change his mind if he truly doesn't want to." He narrowed his eyes at him, and added suspiciously, "And I think that there's much more that you aren't telling me."
"Of course there is," interjected Patrick, shooting at him a feral smirk. "But I'm not about to disclose pack matters to ye, Black."
"Fine, I'll make sure to find out about it, anyway," said Orion dismissively. "Now, I bid you farewell, Connolly. I have to get back to Hogwarts."
"Very well, Black," said Patrick gruffly, "scamper away. I'll see ye soon, I wager."
"Hopefully not too soon," tiredly grumbled Orion under his breath, while he turned on his heels and left the werewolf's presence without any further words.
He would think about werewolves, vampires and all the rest when he had the time for it. It had been an excruciatingly long, exhausting day, and he had to concentrate on his plans for tomorrow.
Orion continued along the pebbled path and cursed under his breath, worriedly carding his fingers through his hair. Tomorrow he would need to use the Resurrection Stone but he had completely failed in controlling it today - he had almost killed Draco. He could only hope that he wouldn't attempt to suck any of the souls of the Necromancers in the Guild, and that the Resurrection Stone wouldn't cause too much trouble when he confronted Cadmus, for he needed the Stone for that very same purpose. His plan for defeating the Dementor and saving his father's soul depended on the Resurrection Stone. There was no way out of it; he would have to use it.
With a deep, troubled sigh, Orion plucked out the glass figurine of the dancing couple from his pocket, and he whispered, "Malfoy Manor."
In a swirling mesh of colors, a pull around his navel, and a tightening of space, he portkeyed away from Lycaon, his mind busily reviewing his plans for the following day, when he would, at last, confront Cadmus. Either dying or losing his soul in the attempt, or finally having his father back with him in the mortal plane.
