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:

Hello everyone! I'm updating at last *impishly grins*. Sorry for taking so long but I was very busy with my finals, and then holidays came up and I had to travel with my family and etc… so I didn't have much time on my hands, and I began writing a fic for another fandom to boot… so… er… well, sorry for taking so long but I'm definitely continuing this fic and I have every intention of completing it. So if this long wait happens again don't fear, because it only means that I was busy, but nothing else! *winks*. Anyway, I'm posting this chapter in two parts because it's really long and I still haven't finished writing it, and I wanted to give you something in the meanwhile. Nevertheless, I hope to post the second part in two or three days at most.

So thanks to all of those who are still reading this fic and reviewing it, and I hope you enjoy the next chapters, since not much happens in this one, it just sets the scene. And happy 2009!

Ah, and you'll find the translations of some phrases at the end of the chapter.

Dunkelheit= Darkness, in German.

NOTE: I uploaded more pics in the website for the Black Heir yahoo group. They're mixed with the old ones in the 'character album'. And finally, I found one which has become my official pic for Orion, since that's the face I would imagine for him. This pic of Orion is in the 'home' page of the yahoo group. There's also a pic for Patrick Connolly, as well as a really nice one for young Lily Evans, to name a few. And there're two new pics in the 'Durmstrang album'. I hope you like them!


Chapter 11

It was late Saturday evening, and Orion was standing in the middle of the main sitting room of Potter Manor. He was clothed in his Durmstrang dark crimson uniform, the short cape had long ago been discarded, and he was wearing the Gaunt ring on one of his fingers. He was heavily breathing, his body ached with lingering pain, the coldness around him seemed to seep into his very bones, and his mind was draped in a numb veil of hazy detachment.

Orion shuddered and straightened up, his mesmerized gaze of glowing blackness still observing the form in front of him with immense longing. The wizard's body was glowing in an uneven whiteness, like a fiery, blazing fire in the midst of cold darkness. Orion yearned for the warmth he perceived coming from the wizard; he hungered for it. He took a shaky step forward, but immediately stopped when Grindelwald aimed his wand at him one more time, with a sadistic smirk promising endless pain.

He shivered again, struggling against his desire and consuming hunger, and he tiredly closed his all-black eyes, slowly drawing out a deep breath. He had been practicing with Grindelwald during the whole day, and he was exhausted and weary.

After leaving Lycaon, he had returned to Hogwarts almost at dawn, just to get all the things he needed from his dorm and from Slytherin's private quarters in the Chamber of Secrets. Then, he had promptly flooed to Durmstrang from Dumbledore's empty office, just like on any other Saturday morning. But he had decided to skip classes at Durmstrang and spend the day in Potter Manor, to practice with the Resurrection Stone as much as he could, before going to the Guild.

The first time he had worn the Gaunt ring during this practice session, he had felt exactly like the previous day when he had seen Draco. He had been inevitably drawn to Grindelwald, and the wizard –though warned about what had happened between Draco and him- had been too startled when he had jumped at him, meshing their mouths together. Nevertheless, Grindelwald had promptly blasted him away with a violent, black whirlpool of his unique dark magic. Then, haggardly breathing, the wizard had wasted no time in crucioing him until the pain made his senses cut through the foggy numbness of his mind.

After that, the hours passed by in the same manner. Orion getting ravaged by pain when attempting to take a hold of Grindelwald to kiss him, and the wizard fighting him back and enjoying the perks of cursing him until the piercing pain made him come back to himself.

Nevertheless, throughout the ten hours of their practice session, Orion had slowly been able to become more aware of what he was doing each time he was cursed and propelled away by Grindelwald. Now, gazing at the wizard's glowing form, he felt the hunger and the need, but not as consuming as before, and never as intense as what he had felt with Draco.

The first time he had worn the Gaunt ring in Grindelwald's presence, Orion had seen the wizard's soul infusing its body in a glow, and he had wanted to consume the wizard, but the need hadn't been as ravaging as what he had felt with Draco. And he had been able to steadily and progressively control himself. Orion thought that it was easier for him to do so with Grindelwald because the wizard's soul didn't feel as enticing as Draco's. Indeed, as he now gazed at Grindelwald, he could see that the whitish glow infusing the wizard's body wasn't the pure, untarnished, intense whiteness of Draco's. Instead, the whitish glow of Grindelwald's soul was uneven and darkened in several places. It was clear to him that it could only mean that Grindelwald had done some things to himself, probably undergone some dark ritual or having done something which tarnished his soul.

"Have you had enough, mein junge? Can you control yourself now, or should I crucio you again?"

Orion snapped open his all-black eyes, intently gazed at the glowing wizard in front of him, and said in a voice hoarse due to past screams of pain, "I can control myself better." He shivered and clasped his arms around himself, muttering in a low voice, "I still feel cold, and I still feel the hunger… an emptiness inside me which wants to be filled by your soul… but I won't attack you again, Gellert. Practicing today has helped me."

"Gut," said Grindelwald, with a sharp nod of his head while he lowered the wand he was clutching – Orion's Phoenix wand. "Do you want to keep practicing or-"

"No," interrupted Orion, "this is good enough, and it's getting late. Loki must be already waiting for me at the outskirts of Sølvanghøj. I have to get going."

Swiftly, he took off the Gaunt ring and pocketed it. The change was instantaneous; he felt all coldness rushing away from him, his mind was plunged back into its own awareness, he no longer felt numbness or detachment, his Necromantic powers calmly settled inside him, and the glowing blackness of his eyes seeped away, leaving his eyes to be naturally emerald green.

Tiredly, Orion briefly closed his eyes and heavily exhaled. He opened them again when he felt a hand reassuringly squeezing his shoulder, and he gazed up at Grindelwald.

"Dunkelheit be with you, mein junge," said the old wizard, his lips curling into a small half-smile. "I'm fully confident that you'll succeed." He grabbed Orion's chin, lifting it, and added with a wide smirk, "Make me proud and show them what a Vindico candidate can do."

Orion shot him a small smile and nodded. As always, he had told Grindelwald everything that had happened. The old wizard knew that he would be confronting Cadmus, that the Guild's Necromancers would be watching, and that he would try to resurrect his father. He had told his mentor as much as he could about the Guild. Given the magical contract he had signed with the Necro Masters, he couldn't disclose any relevant information about the Guild and what he had done when he had visited them on several occasions. But he had told Grindelwald as much as he could, and he knew that the wizard had been able to piece it all together. Thus, the wizard had realized that he had signed a contract with the Guild in order to use one of their Gates, in exchange of eventually undergoing a period of training, with the possibility of becoming one of them.

"Thanks Gellert, I will," said Orion, tiredly grinning at him. "I'll see you tomorrow - hopefully."

Grindelwald mutely nodded and released his chin, and Orion grabbed the black cloak he had perched on a chair, quickly clasping it around himself. Then, he flung over one shoulder the strap of his schoolbag, which contained all the things he had packed for his confrontation with Cadmus.

And without another word, he closed his eyes and instantly apparated to Black Manor. As soon as his feet landed on the marble floor of the main hall, Orion called, "Dobby!"

With a 'pop', the house-elf appeared before him, eagerly rocking on his feet, gazing up at him with large eyes. "Master Orion called Dobby? How can Dobby help Master, sir?"

Orion observed the weird house-elf with fondness. He dearly thanked Narcissa for having temporarily given him Dobby a long while ago, when Severus had become his guardian after Lucius had been imprisoned, and after his stint with the Dursleys had ended when he had unwittingly killed Vernon and Voldemort had killed Petunia and Dudley. Narcissa had given him Dobby so that the house-elf could stay at Black Manor, taking care of his father's body. Though, he was certain that Narcissa had been more than glad to get rid of the wayward house-elf.

"Bring me my father's body, please," he said hastily.

Dobby blinked, puzzled, before instantly obeying and snapping his fingers.

Immediately, a robed body popped in front of them, hovering in mid air, as if resting on an invisible bed. And Orion inspected his father's body closely, gently caressing a long, black lock of hair. It had been a while since he had visited his father's bedroom in Black Manor, but he could see now that Dobby had taken excellent care of him with the use of life-sustaining potions. Sirius' body was healthily lean, the handsome face was pale but not gaunt or thin, his wavy hair was trimmed at shoulder-length, and he sported a short, trimmed beard.

Satisfied, Orion gently wrapped his arms around his father's body and summarily casted a disillusionment and light-weight charm on him. He glanced at Dobby, and said quietly, "You can return to Malfoy Manor, Dobby. Tell your Mistress that I won't need your services any longer, and that I thank her-"

"Dobby will be a good house-elf, Master!" wailed Dobby beseechingly, eyeing him with watery eyes while his ears frantically bobbed. "I is helping Master Orion, sir. Dobby wants to stay here to attend to Master's father." He frantically clutched his hands, glancing around wildly as if looking for something. "Dobby punish himself if Master isn't happy with Dobby-"

"No, don't do that," interrupted Orion hastily. "I'm happy with you, Dobby." He deeply sighed, and added, "Fine, stay with us if you want that. I'm sure I'll find something for you to do. You can be my father's personal house-elf if I manage to resurrect him, okay?"

"Master is resurrecting his father?" said Dobby in awed wonder, gazing at him with huge, wide eyes.

"Yes, I'll attempt it," replied Orion tersely.

"Oh, I is always known that Master is a great wizard!" gushed out Dobby excitedly. "Master is a good, nice wizard, trying to give life to loved father, even if Master is dark, and-"

"Yes, yes, thank you," interjected Orion dismissively. "Now, stay here. I'll be back in a few hours, I hope."

"Yes, Master Orion, sir," said Dobby eagerly, bobbing his ears. "I is staying here with Master and taking good care of Master and his father, sir."

Orion warmly smiled at him. "Very well, thank you."

Then, without any further ado, he tightened his clutch around the invisible body of his father, and he promptly grabbed some floo powder from the mantelpiece of the nearest fireplace.

He entered the fireplace, flung the powder into it, and said clearly, "Headmaster's office, Durmstrang!"

With an engulfing blaze of green flames, he was thrown into a vertiginous rushing through space, before it suddenly halted.

Coughing and dizzy, Orion stumbled out of the fireplace, grumbling under his breath since he didn't like flooing, he much preferred apparating. Alas, one couldn't apparate into Bornholm Island, and he was lucky enough that his Headmaster allowed him unrestricted use of his floo connection.

He straightened up, wandlessly dusted off the soot from his cloak, and clutched his father against his chest. Though he stopped short in his tracks when he saw Vagnarov standing up in front of him, the old man's gaze intently inspecting him before flickering to glance at the disillusioned body he was carrying.

"Ah, I see," murmured Vagnarov quietly. "This is why you didn't attend your classes today. Your professors were worried, and your friends asked about you." He pierced him with his eyes, and muttered, "You're doing it today?"

Orion bore his eyes into the old ones of his Headmaster, and said firmly, without preambles, "Yes."

"And you're going to the Guild," said Vagnarov with a deep sigh. "Now I understand why Durmstrang's wards detected Mr. Njord leaving the school. I surmise that he's waiting to take you to the Guild."

"He is," said Orion, eyeing him carefully. "The time has come, Vulcan. I will no longer postpone it. I have all the things and knowledge I need in order to truly attempt it."

"Are you sure you do?" interjected Vagnarov sternly, gazing at him with a hint of concern. "A Dementor has never been killed before-"

"True," interrupted Orion calmly, "but I know what could kill one. I've learned a lot of things from Cadmus' journal, and thanks to it, I know how I can kill him." He widely smirked at him, and plucked out the Gaunt ring from his pocket, showing it to him. "And I unblocked the Resurrection Stone."

"You mean that it isn't one of the Dark Lord's horcruxes any more," said Vagnarov, shooting him a knowing glance. "Valois told me about the horcruxes, my child."

"Sebastien had no right," snapped Orion angrily, narrowing his eyes at him. "He told me that only Komorov and he knew about the horcruxes, since they are the new leaders of the Aux. I didn't expect him to betray me by telling you-"

"Sebastien told me recently while we were discussing you and the future of the Aux Atrum," interjected Vagnarov sternly. "He told me, in secrecy, about the conversation he had with you. His aim wasn't to betray you, but to discuss matters with me, seeking guidance, since he knows that you're much closer to me than to any other Aux Atrum. Disclosing to me the conversation he had with you was risky for him. He didn't tell anyone else. And he only confided in me because he knows that you trust me and that I'm trying to help you. He's on your side, my boy. We both want to help you." He shot him a small smile, adding quietly, "Furthermore, I'm going to take the secret to the grave - literally."

Orion shifted his weight from one leg to the other, feeling uncomfortable and awkward by being reminded of his Headmaster's imminent, natural death. He pushed aside any pang of grief or sorrow, and he was about to say something when Vagnarov took a step forward, gazing intently at the Gaunt ring Orion was still holding up. The wizard didn't touch it, though there was an excited and eager glint in the old man's eyes.

"The Hallow is truly itself now," said the old wizard in a low, quite voice, his mesmerized gaze still focused on the Gaunt ring. "With all its powers unrestrained… What I would give to feel it…" He stretched out a hand to touch it, but suddenly halted and quickly withdrew his hand, while his jaw clenched. "Yes… so powerful yet so dangerous." He pierced Orion with his eyes and arched an inquiring eyebrow. "The Stone isn't fractured. You didn't destroy the horcrux, yet it isn't a horcrux anymore. What did you do? How did you free the Stone?"

Orion regarded him carefully, before he decided that he lost nothing by being honest. Furthermore, the old man had proved repeatedly to be worthy of his trust, to some degree. "I transferred the piece of soul into a new receptacle."

Vagnarov's eyes slightly widened. "How?"

"I used some spells I learned from Cadmus' journal," replied Orion dismissively, "and from a parsel book." He bore his eyes into his, and added purposefully, "A parsel book which was one of the two books that were given to me by the Aux when I was ten years old. Given to me by my -and Draco's- childhood tutor Ragnarok, who got them from Gregorovicht. Remember them? You were their leader back then-"

"Yes, I remember... " muttered Vagnarov, before he changed subjects. "The spirits will be pleased to know that you returned the Resurrection Stone to its true state." He pierced him with his eyes, and added quietly, "But they won't be happy to know that you didn't destroy the Dark Lord's piece of soul."

"I don't care," said Orion with a shrug of his shoulders, letting slide that the old man didn't want to discuss Ragnarok's actions in his life, and also Draco's for that matter. And it was a matter which still occasionally made him pensively speculate. Nevertheless, he let it drop, and continued with the issue-at-hand. "Tell the spirits what I did. They will find out eventually, anyway. And there's nothing they can do."

"Yes, I will them," interjected Vagnarov quietly. "They should know that you managed to free the Stone. It's one more proof that you're a Vindico candidate with unprecedented chances of succeeding." He pierced him with his eyes, and added sternly, "Yes, the Stone will help you against Cadmus, but I think you should postpone the confrontation with him. Your chances of surviving are still very slight, not to mention that even if you manage to avoid being Kissed, there's much more that the Dementor could do to you. I don't doubt that you'll be able to defend yourself. I know you've become powerful in your dark magic and Necromantic abilities. Regardless, the chances are that he'll damage you permanently. A Dementor's Kiss isn't the only thing you should worry about. Cadmus can hurt you in other ways, Orion. Even you if succeed in pulling out your father's soul, you might not survive the confrontation unscathed or with a complete soul."

"I know," said Orion calmly. "But I've learned a lot about Dementors thanks to the lessons I took with a Necro Master, when she taught me how to communicate with one. And I learned even more thanks to what Cadmus wrote in his journal regarding all the discoveries he made about souls." He intently stared at him, and added sternly, "I have a plan with great chances of succeeding. After reading his journal, and feeling his emotions as if they were my own, I know Cadmus as much as I know myself. And that's what I'll use against him. I'm ready, Vulcan."

"Very well," said Vagnarov with a heavy sigh. "I guess that you won't come to school tomorrow, either." Orion nodded, and the old man continued, "I'll tell your professors, and please, write to your friends, they'll be concerned. It's your decision whether to tell them the truth about what you attempted to do." He placed a hand on Orion's shoulder, and added with concern, "And write to me when it's over. I want to know if you succeeded and also if you came out of it without any serious or permanent injury. And if you need healing, come to Durmstrang. I'll heal you and help you recover. If your soul is damaged, there's isn't much that I can do, but I can help you with physical wounds and mind injuries."

"Thanks," muttered Orion quietly.

"Furthermore, the spirits will want to know the outcome as well. If you succeed…" Vagnarov widely smirked, his dark eyes glinting. "Well, if you succeed in killing the Dementor and resurrecting your father, the spirits would realize that they foolishly alienated precisely the wizard they have been longing for, since it will be one more proof of your true powers and your chances of surviving the Vindico test. Thus, they'll think about it twice before angering you or attempting to manipulate you again."

Orion smirked back at him. "Then, if I succeed, I'll write to you, and you have my permission to tell them."

"Deal," said Vagnarov, a conspiratorial smile tugging his lips. He tightened his squeeze on Orion's shoulder, and added quietly, with a serious expression on his aged face, "Remember, if you need me, come to me. I want to spend my last days on Earth knowing that I have not only furthered the Vindico cause, but also yours."

"I'll remember, Vulcan," said Orion, warmly smiling at him. "And I'll always thank you for everything you've done for me."

Vagnarov nodded and dropped his hand away from Orion's shoulder. "Go, my boy, and may your dark powers protect you."

Orion nodded back at him, and mutely, he clutched his father's invisible body tighter against his chest and quickly left the Headmaster's office, shooting at him one last grateful and fond smile.


"Look who finally deigned to grace me with his presence," bit out Loki, darkly scowling at him. "I've been waiting for you forever, Black! As if I have nothing better to do with my time than-"

"Shut it, Njord," snapped Orion, heavily panting since he had ran all the way from Durmstrang to the outskirts of Sølvanghøj; the light weight of his father's invisible body adding more to the exhaustion he felt, due to spending the whole day being cursed by Grindelwald while under the influence of the Resurrection Stone. Not to mention that he had barely slept the previous night, after leaving Lycaon.

He flicked his wand at his father's body, cancelling the disillusionment charm, and said hastily, "I'm here now. That's what matters. Let's go."

Loki shot him a dark glower, before gripping Orion's shoulder and the hand of the body Orion was carrying, summarily pulling all of them into an apparition. Orion still wondered how the young wizard managed to apparate from Bornholm Island. True, they had been well outside Durmstrang's anti-apparition wards, but the rest of the island also had anti-apparation wards casted and monitored by the Danish Ministry of Magic. Though, he surmised that Loki was able to apparate them, undetected, because the young wizard was a member of the Necromancers Guild. It was surely one more Guild-thing that those Necromancers were able to do, in order to keep their society and their location a secret.

The skies had been dark at Bornholm Island, since it had been nine in the evening, but when Orion's feet landed on the rocky terrain of the tiny inlet suspended in mid air, the skies were a mix of night and day, as always. The moonlight meshed with the glow of stars and with the golden, orange and red rays of sunlight, creating swirling waves of infinite, pulsating colors which streaked above them.

He felt a tingle over every inch of his skin, caused by the heavy magic vibrating all around them. Also, as it always happened when he was there, he felt pleasantly detached and weightless, with his dark magic surging and his Necromantic powers spreading throughout him. And he gazed, mesmerized as usual, at the undulating masses of turquoise seas which enclosed them by plunging into an infinite abyss formed by gigantic, foaming waterfalls.

This time, Loki quickly kneeled on the rocky ground and pressed his palms together pointing downwards, while reverently whispering the litany to gain access to the Guild. Then, the young wizard plunged the ring he always carried into the Necromancer's symbol etched on the ground – a triangle with an all-black eye inscribed in it.

Loki pulled out the ring and swiftly stood up, while gazing ahead with unfocused, unseeing eyes. Then, he snapped his head around to look at Orion, and said briskly, "I told them we're here. They were already waiting for us. Let's go."

Orion nodded and instantly allowed his Necromantic powers to completely suffuse him, knowing that his eyes were turning into glowing pits of blackness. He followed Loki across the suspended path of the floating scaffoldings that crossed the abyss, which now had its pit filled with a dense mass of smoldering lava.

They reached the Guild, which was the downturned mountain suspended in mid air, floating amidst all the lava and surrounded by the endless, oceanic waterfalls, and Loki pressed his ring into another Necromancer symbol. The rocks shifted and cracked, giving way to a tunnel-like passage, and Orion followed the young wizard inside.

Strangely enough, while Orion trailed after Loki, he didn't hear the usual distant, eerie whispers, wails and howls, and he didn't feel the presence of forms lurking around. The silence was absolute, and he asked Loki about it, curious.

"All the Necromancers are waiting for you in the Gate's chamber," replied the young wizard tartly. "Therefore, none of them are working. Meaning, that they haven't been creating portals into other planes or summoning souls and otherworldly creatures. Thus, you don't feel or hear them."

A bit perplexed, Orion nodded and proceeded to follow him in silence, deep in his own musings. They took a downward, spiraling staircase which plunged into the depths of the Guild and Orion saw countless closed doors on every level. Finally, they reached the seventh floor, which was the last level, smaller than the others since it was located in the inverted mountain's crest.

They took a long, dimly lit corridor, and Orion halted in his tracks and gasped when he saw Loki crossing a sheet of silvery mist which cut through the corridor. What made him gasp was that Loki's body was fractioned into a sequence of slices of flesh, bones, and mass, as the boy crossed the thick mist. But it all snapped back together as soon as Loki left the silvery screen of fog, seemingly utterly unaffected and unconcerned while proceeding down the corridor.

"Wait!" yelled Orion, clutching his father's body tighter against his chest, while he stood uncertainly before the strange sheet of silvery mist.

Loki spun around, and bit out impatiently, "What is it now, Black?"

"What the bloody hell is this?" snapped Orion. "Are you expecting me to go through this?"

"Of course you must go through it," snarked out Loki, short-tempered. "It's harmless, Black. It's just a locus of fractured time. The Guild is filled with them." He scowled when Orion didn't move a toe to go forward, and added impatiently, "For Merlin's sake, Black, don't you understand anything? The Guild is the epicenter of the Cross of Planes. You already know that time is bent here and that it acts differently in different places inside the Guild. It's because the Guild is the nexus of all the planes; where their boundaries meet and cross together, and where portals can be easily created to access them. That's what fills the Guild with magic and its unique characteristics, which defy all logic and law of nature and time." He briskly gestured at the silvery sheet of fog, and snapped crisply, "This is just a Locus of Time, completely harmless. So move on and stop wasting our time, Black!"

"Alright," grunted Orion, eyeing the shifting, silvery screen with suspicious caution. He took in a deep breath, tightly pressed his father against his chest, and plunged forward.

It was the strangest and most bizarre and uncomfortable thing he had ever experienced. He saw his father's body, and his own, being vertically sliced into infinite thin slabs of bones and flesh. It was slightly painful, like the prickle of sharp needles throughout his body. But it was over very soon, and he came out of the screen of silvery mist quickly inspecting himself and touching every part of his body, making sure that all his parts were still with him.

When he saw that he was complete and unscathed, Orion let out a heavy sigh of relief.

"Quit the dramatics, Black," snapped Loki sharply, with an annoyed scowl, "and fondle yourself on your own bloody time. As if I want to see that!"

"Yeah, well, I had to make sure that my limbs and family jewels were intact," bit out Orion crisply. "You might be sexually repressed but I'm not. I enjoy it a lot, thank you very much, and I wanted to make sure all my bits and parts were undamaged."

Loki snorted disparagingly, while turning on his heels and proceeding down the corridor. "It would have been a blessing for wizarding kind if you had left behind your bits. The last thing we need is for you to procreate and pass down your idiocy!"

"I'm the best student at Durmstrang, along with Calypso," snapped Orion irritably, following the cranky young wizard. "And I'm powerful as well, remember that."

"So what?" scoffed Loki scathingly. "You're an utter idiot, regardless. The day I leave Durmstrang will be the happiest of my life. I won't be an involuntary witness of your inane antics any longer."

Orion snidely snorted. "And I won't have to see your sour, scowling face every bloody weekend. It will be a happy occurrence for both of us."

"Yes, it will," snapped Loki, while stopping in front of a door and swiftly yanking it open. "Get inside, Black."

Shooting him a glare, and fleetingly wondering why the boy was even more snarky with him than usual, Orion entered the room. It was a cavernous, circular chamber dimly lit by some torches embedded on the rocky walls. And there, in the middle of the vast chamber, he was confronted by a group of individuals who looked like grim specters. They were all covered from head to toes with black cloaks, their hoods shrouding their faces in shadows, only their glowing all-black eyes visible from within the darkness.

The silence felt heavy and ominous, but Orion could hear eerie whispers breaking it, not coming from the Necromancers but, seemingly, from someplace far away. And his skin tingled while it was raised with goose bumps, feeling the same way he had felt around the Veil in the Department of Mysteries; entranced and transfixed by what waited in the beyond, his Necromantic and dark magic swirling animatedly inside him, imbuing and fueling him with power. Furthermore, he felt again that eerie sense of belonging towards all the Necromancers congregated there, as if there were invisible ties linking them together.

He understood the sensations he was feeling when the large group of Necromasters shifted to either sides of the chamber, allowing him to see a huge stone arch from which a mantle of flowing darkness fluttered as if moved by a breeze. It was a Necromancer's Gate; possibly the one the Guild had stolen from the English Department of Mysteries, after learning about it thanks to his disastrous incursion into the Ministry with Calypso and Lezander.

Orion pulled his entranced gaze away from the Gate when he heard Loki taking in a sharp inhale of breath, and he saw what had provoked it. Four Necromancers had taken several steps forward, and he recognized three of them immediately, despite their hooded cloaks: Necro Master Njord, who was Loki's father; Necro Master Vresi, the witch who had taught him how to communicate with Dementors; and Necro Master Kreguil. But it was the fourth figure which had surely surprised Loki, and Orion inspected the man carefully, with a small measure of suspicion and wonder.

The wizard was a strongly built man he had never seen before, dressed very strangely: with a fitting ensemble of breeches, boots, vest, and doublet, which seemed antique-looking, fashionable centuries ago. The strangeness derived from what accompanied that the man's rich clothing. He had a leather strap running across his chest, carrying a large jeweled sword which peeked from the wizard's broad shoulder, his thighs had straps carrying daggers which seemed imbued with poison given the tint of their blades, and his right forearm carried a wand inside a holster.

Orion stared at him, perplexed. The middle-aged wizard seemed a cross between a regal aristocrat and a fierce, experimented warrior. And when his gaze travelled to the man's face, he realized that the wizard was certainly much older than he appeared to be.

His features were strong and masculine: with a squared jaw; spiky white hair framing his face; an old scar running from the muscled right cheek to the strong chin; with strange black symbols tattooed down along the man's forehead to his left cheek; and intense eyes of orange pupils which were piercing into his. Orion gazed right back at him, and the man kept silently staring at him with cold assessment, the wizard's expression revealing nothing but stern seriousness and gravity.

Orion slightly frowned, wondering who the man was and what he was doing there. He was about to ask, when the wizard's orange eyes suddenly turned into glowing pits of blackness, as the man turned his gaze to Necro Master Njord. Orion's eyes widened when he realized that the wizard was a Necromancer as well, surely communicating mind-to-mind with Necro Master Njord, who was now also staring at the strange wizard. And if the man was there, then he had to be part of the Guild. But what puzzled him the most was that, despite the certainty that the man was a full-fledged Necromancer, the wizard's eyes weren't always all-black, like in the case of the rest of the Guild's Necromancers. Indeed, the wizard's gaze turned away from Necro Master Njord, and now stared back at him, with his eyes orange once again.

Orion's frown deepened and he side-glanced at Loki, seeing that the boy was also gazing at the strange wizard, with awed respect but also recognition.

Necro Master Njord took a step toward them, and pressed his palms together, with his hands pointing downwards, which was the traditional Guild salute, before he said in a raspy voice, "Everything is set, Mr. Black. As you requested in your latest letter submitted by apprentice Loki, and as agreed in the magical contract we signed."

"Excellent," said Orion, peeling his gaze away from the unknown wizard, and slightly bowing his head in greeting, since he couldn't do the hand salute given that he was still carrying his father's body. He pierced Necro Master Njord with his eyes, and asked, "Did you make sure that Cadmus is well-fed?"

"We did," interjected Necro Master Vresi, in her hoarse voice, her all-black glowing eyes meeting his. "One of our duties is to provide Dementors with sustenance, when needed. And you asked us to particularly direct the High One into consuming souls which were ready to undergo the Ultimate Transcendence in the spiritual plane, to have him brimming with souls, for this occasion."

Orion nodded, faintly smiling at her, and though he heard the inquiry in her voice, he didn't address it. They would understand soon enough why he needed Cadmus to be 'well-fed'. After all, the more souls a Dementor consumed and had trapped inside itself, the more aware the creature was. And he needed Cadmus to be as aware as possible, inside the limitations of a Dementor's instinct-driven, irrational, and chaotic mind.

He glanced again at the strange wizard, frowning, and thus clearly expressing his unvoiced demand to know the reason for the presence of the unknown man. The wizard was still piercing him with his orange eyes, with a grave and stern expression on his face.

"You may begin," said Necro Master Kreguil, his voice less hoarse and raspy than that of the other two.

Orion glanced at him, his jaw firmly set. He got the point: the strange wizard was there to observe him as well, and he wouldn't be told who the man was until after he finished with what he came there to do.

He merely nodded at them, and proceeded towards the middle of the vast, dimly lit chamber, gently setting his father's body on the ground, several foots away from the Gate. He quickly whipped out his Death and Life wand and conjured a small, plush pillow under his father's head. Then, he carefully laid his school bag on the stone floor.

He straightened back up, and addressed all of the congregated Guild Necromancers, his voice firm and commanding, "I ask you to form a circle along the walls of this room. I need space. Also, I will be casting a ward. You'll be able to see and hear through it, but I and those inside it will not see you, though we will be able to hear you. Thus, I also ask you to remain silent, since the Dementor mustn't know that you are here. After all, that's for your benefit, since you don't want him to know that you aided me by lending me the Gate."

Orion saw them silently obeying his instructions, the unknown wizard and Loki as well.

"Will the ward contain in the High One?" rasped out Necro Master Njord, standing beside the orange-eyed wizard who was still fixedly and assessingly staring at Orion.

"Yes."

Necro Master Vresi pierced him with her all-black eyes, and said hoarsely, "You know that we won't interfere. Whatever happens, you'll have to deal with it yourself. Even if you are in danger, we will not risk revealing that the Guild had any part in this."

"I know," said Orion calmly, glancing at her. "I know what your plans are. You want to get rid of the Dementors and I'm here to show you the way I found to do it. But you don't want Cadmus to know that you are here, because you aren't ready to go forward with your plans in case I fail here today." He bore his eyes into hers, and said dryly, "I understand the Guild's position in this matter. This is an experiment, to see if the way I found is successful and if you can use it to get rid of all the others Dementors." He smirked, and added, "Perhaps it is, but I must clarify that I only care about confronting Cadmus. If I succeed, you can use my method –if you can- but it will be your problem to modify it to fit your own goals. I'm confident that my plan will work with Cadmus." His smirk widened, and he nonchalantly shrugged his shoulders. "With the rest of Dementors – who knows."

"That's acceptable," said Necro Master Kreguil, taking his place in the circle of Necromancers. "It meets the terms of the magical contract we signed."

Orion nodded, and stopped paying attention to them, as he concentrated to begin the first steps of his plan. He briefly closed his all-black eyes, spurring the Necromantic powers inside of him, feeling a rush of dark magic filling him as well. Then, he swished his wand through the air, following the pattern taught to him by Vagnarov in one of their Necromancy lessons. And he poured out his Necromantic powers in the nonverbal spell.

Immediately, he saw a flow of black strings flowing from the tip of his wand. The magic kept creeping out, forming a netted mesh of blackness which started to form an immense dome over and around him. When the black mantle finished encompassing the vast space occupied by him, his father's body and the Gate, he flicked his wand, to close the ward. Now, he didn't see the Guild Necromancers anymore; they were outside of the dome of black, Necromantic magic, though he could hear the faint ruffle of their cloaks.

Satisfied with the containment ward, Orion knelt beside his school bag, and plucked out several things and laid them on the stone floors: a sharp, silver dagger; a flask casted with preservation charms; the thick notebook in which he had translated the druidic symbols of Cadmus' journal into English; a small, black marble basin; and two closed, ceramic jars.

When he had all the things ready, he rolled up one sleeve of his Durmstrang uniform, grasped the dagger and swiftly slashed it through his left wrist, with a long, horizontal cut. He pressed the wound with his fingers, and poured his blood into the black marble basin. His blood slowly trickled down and he patiently waited until it filled half the bowl. Once done, he closed his eyes, feeling a bit dizzy. He waited a few seconds as the wound quickly healed itself thanks to the Zraven, vampiric blood in him, and opened his eyes when the dizziness and weakness of his body faded away.

Orion straightened up, brandished his wand, and said loudly, "Escriba en flameo!"

Instantly, the tip of his wand glowed in a bright hot red and he pointed it to the ground. He swished the wand in the air, following the pattern to write a rune, and he saw how the ancient symbol was etched in the floor, the stone floor melting in the trace he was writing. He continued etching ancient runes in the floor, which would serve as anchors for his summon, and he walked along the vast chamber, forming a circle of symbols and complicated patterns melted into the stone floors.

When he was done, he cancelled the spell on his wand's tip, and he grasped the marble basin. He tilted it, and his blood flowed from it into the symbols etched on the floor. He kept pouring, and slowly, all the runes inscribed in the stone floors were filled with his blood. Finally, he set the empty basin on the floor and he grasped the flask, setting it on his left palm. He pointed his wand at it, and summarily vanished it. With a 'pop', the glass flask disappeared, leaving its contents behind, lying on his palm.

Orion glanced at it briefly, at the piece of skin he had carved out from Cadmus' journal: a piece of the skin which had covered the journal – Eloise's skin, still preserved over countless centuries. He took a few steps and carefully laid it on the ground, in the middle of the circle of runes he had etched on the floor.

Then, he took a deep breath and concentrated on spurring his Necromantic powers inside of him. Instantly, he felt contently detached and aloof, and also buzzing with a potency of power which was very familiar to him by now, as he allowed his Necromantic powers to utterly take hold of him. His glowing all-black eyes zeroed in on the piece of skin and he waved his wand in mid-air, as he murmured a long litany of conjure spells, his lips silently moving.

The runes filled with his blood started glowing in a deep red, and he continued with the summoning spell, as his Necromantic powers flowed from his body through his wand, pouring from the wand's tip into the piece of skin. In a few hitches of breath, he had constructed a column of blackness, rooted on the floor by the runes filled with his blood, with Eloise's piece of skin lying in the middle – a summoning portal anchored in the mortal plane by ancient runes and his blood, and its magic spurred by the flesh of the one who would be summoned.

Finally, Orion pointed his wand at the piece of skin, and called loudly, "Eloise Talbot, come forth from your slumber in the spiritual plane! Eloise Talbot, hear my summon and answer!"

He knew that his words were merely a formality, since the runes he had etched, her skin, and his blood, added to the portal made by his Necromantic powers, would already serve to pull her soul from the spiritual plane. Nevertheless, he repeated them once more, inwardly hoping that her soul was still in the spiritual plane, that it wasn't currently reborn into someone alive. His plan would be ruined if not.

Suddenly, the runes etched on the stone floors beamed in a dark red and wisps of whitish fogginess started swirling from the piece of skin, and Orion sighed in relief, as he stared at it. A hazy shape quickly formed and he gaped at it when it finally solidified into a spirit. It was a little, dainty girl, wearing a dress which was fashionable decades ago, and she couldn't be more than six or eight years old.

Her large eyes glanced around her, and she said in a soft, panicky voice, "Mamá? Dónde estoy? No recuerdo… Yo estaba en… no me acuerdo! Mamá?" She let out a sob, her small frame shaking, and her eyes finally settled on Orion, and she said in a frail, teary voice, "Quién eres? Dónde estoy? Dónde está mi mamá?"

Distantly, Orion heard a sharp chuckle, coming from outside the dome-like ward he had casted at first. Fleetingly, he realized that it was a clear-sounding chuckle, not a raspy, hoarse one of a Guild Necromancer – it had to be from the strange man. So the unknown wizard knew Spanish…

He shook his head, clearing it from his pointless speculations, and concentrated back on the little girl. Thankfully, he knew a bit of Spanish thanks to Artemisa, one of his DA Elite, since her mother was a Spaniard and Artemisa often let out Spanish phrases when she was stressed, enthusiastic, or when dueling.

Orion eyed the little girl closely, quickly reviewing his options. When planning his confrontation with Cadmus, he had admitted the possibility of this happening: that Eloise's soul could have been reborn several times after her death. Thus, he knew what he had to do, for he needed 'Eloise', not a reborn version of herself which remembered nothing of her life as Eloise Talbot.

He approached the little girl slowly, and warmly smiled at her, saying gently in a thickly accented and wobbly Spanish, "Soy Orion. Cómo te llamas?"

"Alejandra," said the girl, her teary eyes gazing up at him with uncertainty. "Quiero a mi mamá!"

Orion took one more step towards her, but she quickly backed away, her eyes widening with fright.

"No tengas miedo de mi," he said softly, halting in his tracks.

"Tus ojos son raros," whispered Alejandra shakily, staring into his all-black eyes.

Orion gently smiled at her. "Sí, lo son. Pero no me tengas miedo. Soy un amigo. Te puedo ayudar a encontrar a tu madre."

"De verdad?" said Alejandra, gazing up at him with innocent hope.

"Sí," said Orion, extending a hand while he surreptitiously aimed his wand at her. "Coge mi mano, y te ayudaré."

"Está bien," she said timidly, laying her ethereal, small hand in his. Her eyes widened as she stared at her hand, and she gasped out while she withdrew it away, "Por qué son mis manos así?"

But Orion had quickly snatched her whitish hand in his before she could pull away, and he said softly, "No tengas miedo. Son así porque moriste, Alejandra. Pero yo te ayudaré. Te ayudaré a recordar."

She let out a sobbed wail, but Orion quickly aimed his wand at her, and said hastily, "Memorium de vitas preteritus!"

A silver beam struck her whitish form, and Orion dropped her hand when he saw that she started changing shapes. He knew what was happening. The Necromantic spell was forcing her to remember her past lifes, and as she remembered, her spirit changed forms, since a soul took the shape of the last life it remembered.

To help the transformation go along more quickly, he swiftly took the book of the translation of Cadmus' journal, and he started to read out loud the passages that Cadmus had written about his personal life with Eloise Talbot.

"I look at your beautiful face as you sleep on my bed, while I write this. Haven't we spent the most marvelous month together? Then why are you unhappy? We make love each night, as we used to before you died, and I feel your warm body pressed against mine, when I wrap my arms around you… You look at me with love and devotion, and you are truly alive once again, so why are you so despondent the rest of the time? Why do you tell me that you don't belong here-"

"Cadmus?"suddenly gasped out a soft voice.

Orion peeled his gaze away from the book, and instantly shut it close when he saw that the little girl was no more. The spirit had now the ethereal, whitish shape of a lithe, young woman. Her face wasn't exceptionally beautiful but her features exuded sweetness and gentility of character, with flowing long hair and large, doe-like eyes. She had to be Eloise Talbot.

The spirit's eyes widened, and to him, she seemed to be horrified while she stared back at him, taking steps to put as much distance between them as possible.

"Not again, Cadmus, please," she pleaded in a trembling, beseeching voice, as she wildly glanced around her, as if looking for an escape. "I can't go through with this again. I asked you not to do it. Not again, please!"

Orion slightly frowned at her when he closed the gap between them and she kept backing away. Finally, he extended an open hand, as if showing that he was harmless, and said quietly, "I'm not Cadmus."

"You are!" said the spirit adamantly, gazing at him with wide, terrified eyes. "Your face, your strange eyes…" A frown spread over her ethereal forehead, and she added with a hint of doubt, "You look younger… Oh, Cadmus, what have you done now?"

Orion bit his lower lip, reviewing her words in his mind, since it was difficult for him to understand them straightforwardly; her accent was heavy and strange – Old English, he surmised.

He sighed, and asked slowly, "What year do you think it is?"

"I… hmm, 732 was the year you last tried to bring me back," she said uncertainly, her gentle, doe-like eyes piercing into his. "Is it still, Cadmus? How long has it been?"

Orion shook his head, and said quietly, "I'm not Cadmus. I'll prove it to you." He quickly closed his eyes, and made his Necromantic powers rest calmly inside of him, momentarily. Immediately, he opened his eyes and gazed at her, as he said, "What is the color of my eyes?"

"Green," she whispered perplexed, her eyes widening. "But they were black before, and you have dark gray eyes, Cadmus. What did you do-"

"I'm not Cadmus, I'm his descendant, Eloise," interrupted Orion hastily, keeping his voice gentle and soothing. "And we're in the year 1997."

She gasped, and then shook her head while she muttered, "1997… so long has passed…" She stared at him uncertainly, and finally said quietly, her gaze softening, "You look so much like him. I thought you were him. I was scared that Cadmus was trying to resurrect me once again... But you're his descendant… The descendant of Cadmus' son with Ursula Black?"

"Yes. I'm Orion Black."

Eloise nodded, and then her ethereal body shivered, and she took a step forward while she murmured with deep emotion, "I can't go through with it again, do you understand? It's horrible. I don't want to feel it ever again. He promised he would stop trying. I don't belong here! Please, don't make me-"

"I'm not trying to bring you back to this plane," interrupted Orion quickly.

"What do you want, then?" demanded Eloise, wrapping her ghostly arms around her body.

"I need your help," said Orion quietly, piercing her with his eyes. "Do you remember how Cadmus looked like the last time you saw him?"

"Yes," replied the spirit, shivering and tightening her arms around herself. "He had your eyes…"

"These?" interjected Orion, immediately spurring his Necromantic powers and making his eyes turn into glowing pits of blackness, and keeping himself that way since he would need to be suffused by his powers for the following steps of his plan.

"Yes," said Eloise, her voice wavering with the reminiscence of past horrors. "And he was also – strange." She shook her head, and added with sorrow, "He was deranged, he was dark and violent… I came to truly fear him. Him - the one I've always loved, and who was always gentle and loving to me! He didn't want to let me go… He wouldn't let me go back. But I couldn't stay with him! Do you understand? I don't belong here! This is unnatural, against the teachings of Christ and-"

"You were a witch," interrupted Orion frowning.

It sounded as if she had been a devoutly religious person. There was nothing wrong with that in his book, but it surprised him, since almost all wizards -and even more so the pureblooded ones- believed simply in Magic, and not in muggle religions. To him, it didn't matter. He believed in Magic, and if muggles wanted to call it God, Buddha, or whatever else, it was fine by him. But he didn't like the other connotations muggles ascribed to such things; like the beliefs in Good and Evil, Heaven and Hell, and such black-and-white notions. Those muggle ideas were precisely what had caused the witch-hunt era, and endless periods of persecution and killings of innocent wizards and witches. And it was one more reason why purebloods hated muggles, as well. To him, everything and everyone was grey: no good, no evil, just imperfect people. He inwardly smirked. Though it was true that some deserved worse than others. Off the top of his head he could quickly count the bloody Spirits -Morgana and Mordred- and even Dumbledore in that category... Succintly, those who stuck their noses in other people's lifes and ruthlessly manipulated them for their own purposes, often resulting in pain and sorrow for their victims... Well, in those cases, he would indeed like to be the avenging angel who struck them down. That was certainly an enticing and tempting divine role...

"I… yes," muttered the spirit, staring at him with a defensive expresison on her ethereal face, "but I'm a half-blood. My mother was a muggle, and I was partly raised as such. I know what is evil! And he was becoming-"

"Evil?" supplied Orion, his lips thinning into a tight, stern line.

"Yes," said Eloise firmly, boring her ghostly eyes into his. "The last time I saw him, in the year 732, it was the fifth time he brought me back into a body. A body he had created out of the flesh he had skinned from my true body; from my tomb – desecrating it. Desecrating my peace, my soul. What is that if not unnatural and evil?" She shook her head mournfully, and added quietly, "I tried to make him see reason. I loved him still and I wanted him to accept my death. To let me go in peace. He wouldn't listen. He had become… insane, perturbed… different. I don't think he was human anymore. He had these all-black eyes you have now, but also, his body was different – emaciated… His skin wrinkling, darkening… He seemed to be rotting alive… I don't know how to explain it…"

"He was a Necromancer, like myself," interjected Orion, eyeing her closely. "Do you know what that is?"

"I do," she replied. "He explained to me what he had become, all the things he had discovered…" She shivered again. "He explained his unnatural powers to me."

"I see," said Orion curtly. "And you thought he was evil. I'm a Necromancer as well. Do I seem evil to you?"

"You… no," said Eloise softly, intently gazing at him. "But he wasn't like you either, not the last time I saw him. He was something else. I could feel it. He wasn't my Cadmus anymore, not my beloved. I couldn't bear it – to see him like that or to stay away from the peace from which he pulled me out of, repeatedly." She pierced him with her ghostly eyes, and whispered in a teary, sorrowful voice, "I truly loved him but I knew that what he was doing was harming him – both of us. I made him promise to never bring me back again, and then… I killed myself, even if it went against everything I believed that was right, because I couldn't-"

"And he never resurrected you again after that, nor did he show himself to you after he changed," murmured Orion to himself, pensively. He sharply glanced at her. "You were right. Cadmus became a Necromancer first, but then he changed into something inhuman. You said he seemed to be rotting alive… Yes, I suppose that's how it starts…" He pierced her with his eyes, and added quietly, "He became a dark creature, Eloise. A Dementor. Do you know what they are?"

"Dementor?" she gasped out, her eyes widening with horrified fear and revulsion. "Yes… I sometimes see them coming, disturbing us… taking some of us away, eating us…" Her ethereal eyes seemed to brim with whitish tears, and she whispered wretchedly, "My beloved Cadmus turned into one of those monsters?"

"They aren't monsters," said Orion sternly. "They serve a purpose, Eloise. They aid the Force of Death, and guard the Balance between the planes; particularly between the mortal and spiritual plane. And they don't 'eat' souls. They consume them when the souls have gone through all their rebirths. They are the means by which a soul goes through its Ultimate Transcendence, making a soul flow back into the Sources of Magic."

The spirit repeatedly shook her head. "I don't understand-"

"It's not imperative for you to do so," interrupted Orion gently. "Just know that even if Cadmus is a Dementor at present, he is still the wizard you love."

He highly doubted that, but he dearly needed her help for his plan to work. He needed her to accept doing what he would require of her.

"Is he?" said Eloise, her large eyes seeming hopeful to him.

"Yes," reaffirmed Orion, warmly smiling at her. "I think you can give him rest and peace. Because you want that – you still love him, don't you?"

"I do," whispered Eloise softly, before her expression turned sad. "I always did. I never stopped, even after everything he made me go through."

"Then you can help me," said Orion gently. "He has my father's soul inside him, and I want to free it. For that to happen, I need Cadmus to die. If he dies, he'll have peace at last-"

"But his soul-"

"Cadmus lost his soul centuries ago," interrupted Orion. "He lost it when he consumed his first soul – when he turned into a Dementor. There's no way to undo that. There's no way to give him back his soul. It doesn't exist anymore. The only way to help him is to kill him. To end it. Do you understand?"

"Yes," said Eloise tearfully. "I rather know he died, than to have him remain an inhuman, unfeeling creature – a Dementor… Perturbed, always yearning for more souls, ravaging, destroying… I rather have him know the peace of inexistence."

Orion gazed at her with surprise. He hadn't expected her to understand it so quickly, or to be so easily willing to kill Cadmus, knowing that he wouldn't exist after that – that she wouldn't be joined with his soul in the spiritual plane. But it seemed that Eloise understood what was at play: Cadmus would utterly die, with no soul left, for it simply didn't exist any longer. Though, the way she put it – 'know the peace of inexistence'- sounded naively romantic and ignorantly poetic to him, but if that was the spin she gave it, better for him.

He inwardly grimaced, for he knew that there was no 'peace' in non-existence, there was simply nothing. But he gently smiled at her, and said softly, "Yes, he'll know peace if he dies. And you can help me make it happen."

"How?" said Eloise, her doe-like eyes gazing at him as if he was a noble savior sent to her by a higher power to ease her pain and sorrow.

Orion cleared his throat in discomfort, since he didn't enjoy playing along with her delusion. But pondering on it, he realized that Eloise was probably perfectly aware of what 'inexistence' truly encompassed – she was probably lying to herself about the 'peace' part in order to assuage her conscience. Nevertheless, what mattered was that she preferred to end the Dementor's life, as a way to help her 'beloved' Cadmus, so he wouldn't dwell on it any longer.

He pointed at the Necromancer's Gate a few feet away from them. "That's a Gate and the Force of Death lies behind it. Any human that goes through it would have his soul torn from his body. The body vanishing and the soul going into the spiritual plane – meaning death to anyone. To anyone except a Dementor, since it isn't truly alive. Regardless, after much research and study, I believe that if a Dementor goes through it, its body would cease to exist, and the souls feeding it would be plunged into the spiritual plane. Without the souls and without its body, Cadmus would cease to exist – without a doubt. But the crux of the matter is that a Dementor has to enter the Gate willingly. Even if I tried to force Cadmus to cross it, I wouldn't succeed – he's much too powerful. He has to go through it on his own accord, after I take my father's soul from him. And that's-"

"That's what you want me for," interrupted Eloise softly, intently gazing at him. "You want me to persuade him to go through it."

"Precisely," said Orion quietly. "Take him into the Gate with you. Nothing will happen to you except that you'll be thrown back into the spiritual plane – that peace you spoke about, to which you want to go back."

"And he would die."

Orion mutely nodded and she shivered slightly, her ethereal face looking uncertain.

"It's either that," said Orion firmly, "or he continues being a Dementor forever, consuming more souls… The problem isn't that he consumes the souls of the spiritual plane, for he helps in their Ultimate Transcendence. The problem is that Dementors feed on living wizards and witches, since they can't ease their hunger just by consuming the souls in the spiritual plane. They need more and they take it." He gazed at her, and added beseechingly, "He took my father's soul, Eloise, and my father was still alive, in the mortal plane. That shouldn't happen. And my father didn't deserve it. At present, he's in a limbo – not dead or alive, while Cadmus keeps slowly feeding on his soul. It has to be endless torture for my father, and I need to-"

"I understand," interrupted Eloise gently. "I'll help you."

"Thank you," said Orion warmly, inwardly sighing with relief. He pierced her with his eyes, and added quietly, "Much will depend on you. I'll try to reason with him, but he's a Dementor, so my efforts might be fruitless and I might be forced to use spells against him-"

"And I'll have to persuade him," interjected Eloise, nodding. "I'll have to make him remember about me, about us." She gazed at him, and asked softly, "Will he remember?"

"I hope so," replied Orion. "He's as much aware as a Dementor can be – he's well-fed by souls. So it's up to us to make him remember and to convince him to go with you into the Gate."

"I see," murmured the spirit. She pierced him with her ethereal eyes, and said resolutely, "Very well. I'll do it."

"Good," said Orion, smiling at her. "I'll summon him now, but I ask you to remain behind the Gate, unseen by him, until I call your name."

She nodded and smoothly flowed away, obeying his request. Orion wearily rubbed his forehead, took a deep inhale of breath, and quickly plucked out the Gaunt ring from his pocket, putting it on. Distantly, he heard murmurs and the ruffle of cloaks, coming from outside the dome of blackness that warded the area in which he, Eloise, the Gate and his father's body were in. No doubt that it was the Necromancers' reaction to seeing the Gaunt ring – the Resurrection Stone – in his hands, since the Stone was something in which they were highly interested in, and he hadn't shown it to them until then.

Nevertheless, such considerations swiftly left his mind as he felt the effects of the power of the Hallow taking over him. Instantly, he felt a mantle of peaceful detachment wrapping around his mind, his body felt cold and numb, while he felt his Necromantic powers pulsing vibrantly inside him. Moreover, he felt again that inexorable hunger, and his glowing all-black gaze instantly zeroed in on the Gate. Even from that distance, and even if she was hidden behind the artifact, he could feel Eloise's soul – the warmth of it, the promise of the exquisiteness of her essence.

Orion shivered and firmly clenched his jaw, forcing himself to stay put instead of launching himself on the spirit. He could feel pearls of sweat materializing on his forehead and trickling down, but he took several deep breaths and forced himself to remain controlled. It certainly helped that he couldn't see her, since her soul would surely be as enticingly pure, untarnished, and mesmerizingly complete as Draco's…

He shook his head repeatedly, abating his desire, and quickly shot his right palm forward. He inwardly repeated the long string of conjures he had learned in Necromancy lessons at Durmstrang, and his Necromantic powers started flowing from his extend palm, while a column of blackness began to be formed by it.

It was a portal like the one that Vagnarov had constructed for the test of his first Necromancy class – in which he had unwittingly summoned Cadmus. He saw the ancient runes he had carved into the stone floors glowing with the red of the blood he had poured into them, he detected how the stifled air seemed to vibrate with magic, how the temperature seemed to drop, and how his breath came out as vapory puffs of condensed whiteness. And finally, he tiredly dropped his hand when the portal was complete.

Orion steeled himself while he inwardly reviewed his plan. He would use the Resurrection Stone to stand powerfully against the Dementor, he would try to communicate with it, he would have to use several spells, and at last, he would use Cadmus' love against him. He would use his obsession – Eloise- to make him go through the Gate. He would use love against his enemy, just like any Dark Lord would mercilessly do. And he wouldn't allow himself to stupidly feel pity or empathic commiseration for Cadmus, even if he always felt it. He would ruthlessly push those feelings to a side, for the Dementor wouldn't be the Cadmus of the journal, which had made him feel all of the wizard's wrecking and despairing emotions. He would be killing a Dementor who was feeding on his father's soul – an enemy to destroy. And he would deal with it as such.

Finally, he whipped out his wand, took a heavy breath, and plunged into the summoning portal.


Translation:

Mamá? Dónde estoy? No recuerdo… Yo estaba en… no me acuerdo! Mamá? = Mom? Where am I? I don't remember… I was in… I can't remember! Mom?

Quién eres? Dónde estoy? Dónde está mi mamá? = Who are you? Where am I? Where's my mom?

Soy Orion. Cómo te llamas? = I'm Orion. What's your name?

Alejandra. Quiero a mi mamá! = Alejandra. I want my mother!

No tengas miedo de mi= Don't be afraid of me.

Tus ojos son raros = Your eyes are weird.

Sí, lo son. Pero no me tengas miedo. Soy un amigo. Te puedo ayudar a encontrar a tu madre. = Yes, they are. But don't be afraid of me. I'm a friend. I can help you find your mother.

De verdad? = Truly?

Sí. Coge mi mano, y te ayudaré. = Yes. Grab my hand, and I'll help you.

Está bien. Por qué son mis manos así? = Alright. Why are my hands like this?

No tengas miedo. Son así porque moriste, Alejandra. Pero yo te ayudaré. Te ayudaré a recordar. = Don't be afraid. They are like that because you died, Alejandra. But I'll help you. I'll help you remember.