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.

Warning: Rape and a bit of slash content.



Chapter 12

Orion went through the column of blackness, with his heart wildly beating in his chest. His skin pleasurably tingled as the magic of the portal caressed it, and he firmly stood in the middle of it. The silence seemed deafening, the coldness encroaching, and the dark magic inside him was pulsing and swirling eagerly, as if knowing what he was about to confront. There was no doubt in his mind that Cadmus would appear in the summoning portal, as had happened in his Necromancy test with Vagnarov. After all, the Dementor wanted to kill every living descendant of the main Black line, in revenge, since Ursula Black had once fatally poisoned a resurrected Eloise Talbot.

This time, the wait wasn't long. Suddenly, the temperature seemed to dramatically drop, everything darkened, and a kind of fog rapidly spread inside. Before his all-black glowing eyes, Orion saw a black shape quickly forming. He let out a puff of breath, and steeled himself, as the wraith-like creature gained definition and substance. The Dementor was about ten feet tall, hovering a few inches from the floor, with a dark hooded cloak clothing it, which only revealed grey, skeletal, decayed hands and a black hole for a mouth.

Orion instantly aimed his Death and Life wand at it, while he felt a terrible, yet familiar and unimaginable powerful aura coming from the creature, accompanied by a sense of hopelessness and dejection.

He purposely waited for the creature to act, and just when the Dementor abruptly swooped down on him, he quickly accessed one of his fondest memories, and yelled, "Expecto Patronum!"

The 'happy' memory worked, even if it was one of his most painful as well as one of his most cherished recollections; that of when Lezander, Calypso and he had frolicked and run through the woods encircling Durmstrang Castle, in their animagi forms. He being Firebreath, his wyvern animagus form, with snake-Calypso coiled around his neck while he flew over Lezander, who had been in his beautiful black stallion form. The carefree times and warm camaraderie of their deep friendship had long passed, and Orion's chest ached with the remembrance of that lost unity, since Calypso was, at present, still distant from everyone and since he hadn't seen Lezander in ages, after discovering that his former boyfriend was truly alive.

Nevertheless, the remembered happiness of that memory served its purpose, and his two patroni sprung from the tip of his wand; a glowing, black Basilisk and a beautiful Phoenix. But, as he felt skeletal and painfully cold fingers wrapping around his neck, Orion didn't mentally command his patroni to attack. Instead, he made them wait, encircling him and the Dementor.

As he had expected, and counted on, the Dementor tightened his grasp and inched its hole-like mouth to his lips, while his mind was assaulted by his worst memories. Regardless, with the help of his Occlumency skills, Orion swiftly pushed to a side the effects of the Dementor on his mind, and he concentrated in order to spur all his Necromantic powers, which were magnified by the Resurrection Stone on the Gaunt ring he was wearing.

The Dementor's grip around his throat felt like burning ice on his skin, leaving him gasping for breath with great difficulty. Nevertheless, in the instant that the creature's mouth was inches away from his, Orion swiftly shot forward a hand and pulled the hood away from the creature's head. He swallowed a horrified gasp, and immediately mentally commanded his patroni to attack. Abruptly, the Dementor let out an inhuman high-pitched screech as the great, black Basilisk snapped its jaws at it, while the Phoenix rammed against it.

Orion dropped to the floor, firmly standing on his feet, and gazed at the creature which had backed away from him. Now, with the hood dropped from the creature's head, Orion could see for the first time what a Dementor's face looked like. It was a skeletal, blackened thing; cheekless, hairless, and with rotted patches of shriveled skin here and there, with a lipless hole for a mouth, and milky-white sunken orbs for eyes. He knew perfectly well that the creature couldn't see, but the key for his next step was the creature's blind eyes.

Suddenly, a sharp, pain-filled hiss and a melodious wail resounded through the portal as the Dementor retaliated and attacked the patroni. Though Orion had expected nothing less from such powerful creature, and he waited while he observed the battle between the Basilisk, Phoenix and Dementor. He didn't exactly know how the Dementor was accomplishing it, but a rush of blackness poured from the creature's hole-like mouth and shot out, striking the Basilisk, which hissed, and the Phoenix, which let out a melodious cry.

With a hitch of breath, in the precise instant that the Dementor was occupied fighting against the patroni once more, Orion leapt towards the creature. He was completely imbued with his Necromantic powers; he felt them pulsating inside him, while a constant rush of power, coming from the Gaunt ring, vibrated through him. And, in the bat of an eyelash, Orion wrapped his fingers around the emaciated and bony throat of the Dementor, pressing his body against the creature's, and sinking his gaze into the milky-white orbs.

By touching the Dementor's decayed skin, he knew that he should have felt unbearable pain, like icy spikes stabbing his flesh, like it happened the first time he had encountered Cadmus. But he didn't feel such pain, just slightly, and he surmised that it was because he was much more powerful in his dark magic than the last time he had confronted the Dementor, and also because his Necromantic abilities were magnified by the Resurrection Stone. Nevertheless, he knew his skin would be burned black in the places in which the Dementor had touched him, or where his body came in contact with the Dementor's rotted skin.

Concentrating as he had never concentrated before, Orion pushed his mind's awareness forward, with the use of Legilimency. And while he tightened his grasp on the creature's neck, he used his other hand to spread it over the Dementor's head, and yelled, "Mentis vincula!"

The wandless, Necromantic spell, taught to him by Necro Master Vresi, instantly worked. And Orion saw a silvery glow pouring from his spread palm, which was still pressed against the Dementor's head. The magic swirled in tendrils into the creature's milky eyes, at the same time that it struck Orion's forehead. Gasping, Orion felt a cold mantle sinking into his mind, and he knew that the mind connection had been established.

Nevertheless, in that meanwhile, the Dementor had acted as well, and the patroni seemed to be dimming in their glow, weakened by the attack of the creature. And the Basilisk and Phoenix once again stood to a side by Orion's command. Moreover, the Dementor had also wrapped its skeletal fingers around Orion's throat, and he felt his skin painfully burning in piercing coldness.

Regardless, his plan had worked, and now he was gazing into the creature's milky eyes. Though, the Dementor seemed to know what he was trying to do, since it stood still, only tightly grasping Orion's throat.

Was the Dementor curious about what he wanted to communicate to it? Was that why it wasn't attacking? Could the thing still feel curiosity?

Orion inwardly shook his head. It didn't matter... And without another hitch of breath, he pushed forward his thoughts, just like Necro Master Vresi had taught him to do.

'Cadmus,' he called in his mind, 'You are Cadmus Peverell… remember… Cadmus Peverell, brother of Ignotus and Antioch. Husband of Ursula Black, and beloved of Elois-'

Abruptly, Orion let out a pained cry as he felt something stabbing and tearing into his mind. He couldn't repress his scream, even though he had been forewarned by Necro Master Vresi. The connection of the Dementor's awareness with his mind was simply too painful, like an ice-pick stabbing through his head, as he felt the creature pushing something into his mind.

A raspy, sharp, chuckle-like sound cut through his thoughts, and Orion's mind was filled by a chaotic myriad of intelligible feelings. It was like being assaulted by a havoc of wild and irrational instincts and emotions, all pouring from the Dementor. He felt a deep, insatiable hunger, plunged in dark coldness, added to a fierce and burning hatred. Such hatred and fury as he had never felt before. And he realized, a bit dizzily, that it was directed at him.

'Necromancer,' the word resounded through Orion's mind, the sound hoarse, sharp and painful, as if it were a blunt blade aggressively sinking into his head.

When the Dementor inched his hole-like mouth closer, Orion's eyes widened, fleetingly feeling the survival instinct of fright, something telling him to pull away and cancel the portal. Since at present, inside the portal, he was in control, like any Necromancer. He could bring it down and the Dementor would go away. Nevertheless, Orion pushed the thought away, since the next step of his plan was to take the Dementor out of the portal, so that the creature would see Eloise.

'Necromancer,' rasped out the creature in Orion's mind, accompanied by a sharp, merciless chuckle which caused goose-bumps to spread over Orion's skin, 'you have learned much since last time… I have been waiting for this… I knew you would call me again, Sextus…'

'Sextus?' thought Orion wildly, his eyes widening as he stared back into the unseeing milky-eyes which were inches away from his. 'Whoever that is, I am not him. I am-'

'I know perfectly well who you are, Sextus,' resounded hoarsely in his mind, while he saw how the Dementor inched his mouth to his, even closer now. 'I know you better than you know yourself… I feel you… Sextus… I feel what you have, too… It isn't yours, it's mine…'

Orion realized that Cadmus was referring to the Resurrection Stone, and he dropped his hand from the creature's head, to grip once again his wand, aiming it at the creature.

'It's mine now-'

'I don't want it,' interrupted fiercely the sharp, painful voice in his mind. 'I don't need it any more, Sextus… always taking what is not yours… always killing… Isn't that why you created a portal to summon me, Sextus?'

'I'm not Sextus!' roared Orion in his mind, frazzled and perplexed, since he didn't know what the creature was talking about.

Moreover, things weren't going according to his plan. It was evident that the Dementor was well-fed to be aware enough to communicate directly into his mind, but the creature was certainly confusing him with someone else. He hadn't expected that. The Dementor was supposed to remember that he was Orion Black, the last living descendant of the main Black line, and thus, someone who the creature would try to Kiss and kill-

'But I will kill you, Sextus,' pierced the rasped words into his mind, while the Dementor tightened his fingers around Orion's throat, 'but not before I make you realize who you are… you deserve to know… you deserve to pay for it, for what you did to me…'

Orion stared at the creature with wide eyes. The thing was mad! He didn't give it a second thought, and the instant that the Dementor swooped down to mesh their mouths together, he released the creature's throat and spread his palm, making his dark magic rush outwards. A blast of black flames shot out, and instantly encircled the creature in a tight mantle of blazing, black fire.

He staggered backwards, away from the creature, while he panted deep breaths. But, suddenly, a sharp, eerie chuckle cut through his mind, and he saw the Dementor gliding through the wall of flames, utterly unscathed.

'Your strange dark magic does nothing to me, Sextus,' said a fierce, hoarse voice in his mind. 'You cannot stop me… you never could… and yes, I never cared for you… I despise you, all what you are… all what you did… and your very conception…'

It happened so quickly, that Orion could do nothing but hastily order his patroni to attack the creature, before it swooped down on him. And several things happened simultaneously: he heard his patroni hissing and melodiously wailing, respectively, when they launched themselves on top of the Dementor and when the creature blasted them away with some invisible force; the creature flung itself against him; he was pinned to the floor; and the hole-like mouth meshed with his, while skeletal hands gripped his head.

Orion's scream of agony was lost inside their locked mouths, while he felt as if his mind was being wrecked apart - something forceful, relentless and fierce digging and tearing. He felt his eyes roll upwards, his body starting to convulse, and something clawing inside of him...

Suddenly, through the blazing, piercing pain which tore through his mind and body, he felt a flicker of awareness bubbling in his mind… It was the strangest sensation, as if something was unrolling inside his head, spreading and encompassing all his thoughts and senses… And he felt as if he was dropping into an endless, dark abyss…

Abruptly, he was flashed by whiteness, and in the next instant, he was on a grand, plush bed. His blood was rushing, his heart thumping in his chest, and he felt heated and unbearably aroused. A moan was ripped from his throat, while his body was spread on the bed, on his stomach, while he felt something hot and hard penetrating him, and brushing against a spot inside him that made him writhe in waves of pleasure.

Someone was thrusting into him, relentlessly, constantly, while he felt a body pressed against his back, and while long, elegant fingers carded and clutched his hair.

"Do you like this?" said a husky, silky voice into his ear. "Do you enjoy when your Master takes you?"

"Yes," he breathed out, turning his face around and staring into intense crimson eyes.

"Yes what, Regulus?" demanded sharply the low, silky voice.

"Yes, Master," he said quietly, and he hated himself for it.

This wasn't how it was supposed to be; this wasn't why he had accepted sharing his Lord's bed. He wanted the wizard's admiration, the recognition of his power and abilities. This wasn't why he had become a Death Eater. He believed in his Lord's magnificence; the wizard would put to right everything that was wrong in the wizarding world, the pureblooded Houses would gain back their influence and glory, and mudbloods would be casted away. And he would be there, standing besides his Lord, helping him, being an Inner Circle Death Eater, the Dark Lord's right hand. And his mother would love him again, and his brother would understand that he was mistaken. And everything would be right, and he would fulfill his destiny, and he would have the Dark Lord's love and admiration, but not this… This wasn't how it was meant to happen…

The crimson eyes glinted with satisfaction, before a cruel, twisted smirk spread over the handsome face, and he felt a savage thrust rocking into his body once again…

Orion screamed and wildly flailed his arms, trying to pull away from whatever was happening… he didn't understand… he couldn't feel much, except the pain of something digging and clawing inside, the weight of the Dementor on top of him, the hole-like mouth working in his, and the darkness that once more gripped his mind… But all he could think was that it wasn't possible, that whatever he had seen and felt wasn't real, that it was implanted there-

'It's not,' cut through a raspy, sharp voice into his awareness. 'But be patient, Sextus. We'll get there… to what I want you to remember… but you are an old soul… it might take a while… in the meantime, we'll go through your most painful, past recollections…'

A hoarse, vicious chuckle ripped through his mind, and he felt as if he was being flung once again into a black pit, before emerging into eerie clarity...

Every muscle in his body ached, his insides burned painfully, he felt his back flowing with blood pouring from the wounds inflicted by the whiplash curse, his long, wavy black hair was plastered on his sweaty forehead, and he could feel the gazes of every Death Eater in the room, staring at his naked, torn body. He was spread on his stomach on a stone altar, with his arms and legs tied by hissing snakes, and with great effort, he raised his face to stare forward.

The Dark Lord was there, elegantly and calmly seated on his throne, the crimson eyes cold, the handsome face he so loved to observe revealed nothing but fury, hatred, and contempt. And that was more painful than anything which had already been done to him. But he shouldn't care about it anymore. He had been foolish. Stupid to not realize that he meant nothing to the Dark Lord, nor to his mother and brother.

But he had known that already, hadn't he? He had known that the Dark Lord had to be stopped as well... when he realized what the Dark Lord's plans were, when he had found the Dark Lord's diary, and then researched to understand what it was. When he took the time to find another horcrux, and investigate the Dark Lord's past – the wizard had been a half-blood, no less. Such hypocrisy, such lies, such manipulations… He had been repulsed by all of it, and by his naiveté.

Regardless, in the end, he –Regulus Alphard Black- had won over the Dark Lord, the wizard from which he had yearned love and affection. Such idiocy on his part. He inwardly smiled, since it was painful to do it outwardly. Yes, he had bested the Dark Lord. Oh, the wizard had finally found out that he had seen the diary, that he knew about the horcruxes, and this was his punishment. But the Dark Lord didn't know that he had found the locket in the cave, that he had taken it and supplanted it by a fake one, and that he had hidden the locket in his bedroom. He had successfully occluded all that. Pity that he hadn't had the time to destroy the locket with the basilisk poison he had bought; he had been summoned just before he could do it. It didn't matter, though, even if he knew that he was going to die. Someone else would find out about it, and would destroy it. Someone else would finish his task...

"Lucius," said the Dark Lord commandingly.

He dropped his head, shivering in the coldness of the chamber, and tightly clenched his jaw, feeling a surge of hatred mingled with anguish. The Dark Lord knew him too well. The other rapes had been painful torture on his young and once smooth body, yes, but the other Death Eaters meant nothing to him. But having Lucius rape him was another matter entirely. This was now psychological torture, since Lucius had been the first with whom he had ever experimented with sex, three years ago, before Lucius graduated from Hogwarts two years before him.

After all, besides the Dark Lord, Lucius had been his only lover; as handsome, charmingly enticing, and sexually skilled as the Dark Lord. Yet so different. With Lucius, there had been affection and a friendship, even if the wizard was meant to marry his cousin Narcissa. He liked her too, so there had been no ill-will against her or against Lucius' decision of marrying her to follow his parent's plans.

He shuddered when he heard the sound of a zipper being pulled down, and he felt warm fingers clutching his naked hips. Unlike the others', Lucius' grip wasn't painful, but gentle, and he inwardly panicked, hoping that the young wizard wouldn't show mercy or tenderness. The Dark Lord would punish Lucius as well, if the wizard did that.

The penetration was harsh, and he inwardly sighed with relief, resting his cheek against the cold stone of the altar, and tightly closing his eyes. He barely felt pain anymore; his torn entrance was bloodied and it helped lubricate the thrusts, and his body was by now in such agony that one more rape didn't add that much pain to it.

He felt Lucius' silky, platinum hair caressing his wounded shoulder, and abruptly, he had to bite his lip when he felt a surge of pleasure with the next thrust. What was the fool doing? But it continued, Lucius kept ramming into that spot inside him which filled him with pleasure, and he bit down his tongue and pulled a blank expression over his face, not revealing anything to the Dark Lord who was intently gazing at him. But he ended inwardly thanking Lucius for it. He knew what his former lover was doing; giving him pleasure without letting it be known – it was Lucius' only way of saying farewell. And he was grateful, since even though Lucius wouldn't sacrifice his own life to save him –which would be staggeringly stupid, for it would only mean Lucius' death as well as his own- it told him that Lucius did care for him; for what they had once shared, he supposed.

Suddenly, he felt Lucius' release coating the insides of his entrance, and the wizard's fingers momentarily caressed his hips with a soft touch, before standing way. Then he heard the sound of a zipper going up, and he sagged against the stone altar to which he was bounded, wondering when the Dark Lord would kill him. He didn't think he could take much more.

"Severus," said the Dark Lord's voice in a low, silky tone.

And he could detect the hint of cruelty in it; this time directed at Severus, he knew that. This was another test for Severus, to see if the wizard would participate in this torture. And he fleetingly felt for the wizard, knowing that it would be unbearable for Severus, but that the wizard would do it nonetheless. This was another psychological punishment for him as well. It seemed that the Dark Lord had kept the only two people he cared about for last. Lucius, once briefly his lover, and Severus, the only real friend he had made in Slytherin House.

He opened his blood-shot eyes, and side-glanced at the young wizard. Even through Severus' Death Eater mask, he could tell that the wizard had paled. He knew there was no way that Severus would ever be aroused: the wizard liked women, and didn't have a sadistic streak, but the wizard was a sly survivor as well. Nevertheless, he surreptitiously shot his friend a faint smile, and that seemed to do the trick – it was his express command for Severus to go ahead and obey. He didn't want Severus to be punished over this. He just wanted it to be over, and to die.

Severus' obsidian eyes turned cold, and he inwardly sighed with relief once again, while he saw the wizard surreptitiously casting a wandless lust charm on himself.

Again, the sound of a zipper going down… he had lost count of how many times that had happened during that evening… a body pressing against his back, and a painful thrust into his body… But no pleasure; Severus clearly didn't know what he was doing. The wizard had certainly never bedded another wizard… The thrusts were unskilled, unsure, and involuntarily more painful than normal… Fleetingly, he wished to experience Lucius' perfectly-skilled and pleasurable love-making again…

Regardless, he dropped his head on the stone altar, and made his mind travel away from his surroundings, away from the sound of flesh slapping against flesh, of the cruel and mocking jeers of the other Death Eaters, and above all, away from the crimson eyes observing him ever so coldly and hatefully.

Instead, he made himself think about his friend, perhaps his only true one. Severus was just nineteen, one year out of Hogwarts, like himself, and the wizard had been a tough housemate to befriend... Always a loner, always pinning for that upstart, filthy mudblood Lily Evans, always being the punch-bag of his brother's pathetic band of friends who called themselves the Marauders - such an inanely ridiculous name that could have only come out from a moronic Gryffindor's mind… And that was precisely why he had befriended Severus, to go against Sirius, to try to garner his brother's attention… Not that it had worked. Sirius had just ignored him as usual, happy to be with his carefree friends, content in rebelling against family and turning into a bloodtraitor, never caring about who he had left behind – him, his own brother…

Oh, but he missed Sirius… He had always missed his older brother, who he had admired since they were little boys… And he had written to him, just two days ago, before getting the Slytherin locket today, but Sirius had never replied… No doubt that his brother was currently cozy in James Potter's house, probably with the mudblood as well… That couple would surely end up married… Well, good riddance to them; a light pureblood marrying a mudblood. Pathetic, disgusting… But why hadn't Sirius replied? He had wanted to tell him that he wanted out. That he didn't want to be a Death Eater anymore… Not that he would join Dumbledore. Yuck. No, but he wanted to be his own man, he wanted to go his own way… To destroy the horcrux and… And what? There was something there, in his mind, which eluded him. He didn't know anymore… He was tired, in agony, he wanted everything to simply end once and for all… The horcrux wasn't his problem anymore, he had found it and taken it, that was enough… Someone would destroy it, and the rest of horcruxes… Well, it wasn't his burden any more… But he did want to see Sirius one last time…

He inwardly shook his head, wondering if all these ponderings was what usually happened when one was confronted with imminent death. He supposed it was, for he couldn't stop thinking about his life; about the nineteen years of his existence, and how he had been ridiculously idealistic at first... Graduating from Hogwarts with excellent grades, trying to make his parents care for him, instead of them bemoaning the loss and betrayal of Sirius, and then valiantly deciding that he wanted to be a Death Eater, that he would be what his mother had wanted Sirius to be. Stupid.

And then... Oh, that had been the highlight of his life, once... Then, meeting the Dark Lord for the first time, when he was eighteen, fresh out of Hogwarts. How he had been captivated by the Dark Lord's aura of power, by the wizard's charm, the man's vision and magnificence. Yes, he supposed he had fallen in love. What an idiot…

Abruptly, a sharp, painful thrust rocked into his body and he let out a grunt of pain. He heard derisive chuckles, and closed his eyes tightly. Damn Severus' inexperience! Oh, it seemed the wizard was done… Thank Merlin for that, because he couldn't take much more-

'Use it! Glance down! Use it, for your sake… for my sake, Regulus...'

He snapped his eyes open, but didn't look anywhere, so that the Dark Lord wouldn't notice. He recognized that voice! Severus had used his unparalleled skills in Legilimency to speak into his mind... Distantly, he heard the Dark Lord commanding someone else to take the place that Severus had left… more raping… the Dark Lord wasn't done with him, then… Nevertheless, when he felt it was safe, when the Dark Lord's attention was turned to another Death Eater, he glanced down.

There, lying inconspicously on the floor, next to the altar, he saw it: a small, sharp piece of glass, wandlessly conjured by Severus, no doubt about that. He briefly closed his eyes, feeling tears brimming in them; tears he didn't want to shed, for they would be taken as weakness. But they weren't caused by pain, anguish, or anything of the sort. They were caused by a warm feeling clutching his chest, by his gratefulness towards Severus, who had given him a way out: to die on his own terms, and not by being killed by the wizard he had once naively fallen in love with.

This was it. Suddenly, he felt the weirdest thing: a feeling of peace, certainty, and fierce, ecstatic determination. This would be the culmination of his short, young life, but he felt no sorrow. He would rid the Dark Lord of one more thing: his death.

He momentarily closed his eyes, ignoring the thrusts which had started once again, and he invested every drop of magic in himself, every last measure of strength and effort, to summon as much magic as he could. Wandless magic was something he could occasionally do, but it wasn't easy; he never had the opportunity of practicing and developing it much. Regardless, he put all his will on it... And, suddenly, he felt his body brimming with a potent spike of power.

Finally, with his legs and arms still bound by hissing snakes to the stone altar, he sharply raised his head and stared right into the crimson eyes observing him.

The Dark Lord seemed momentarily startled; perhaps the expression on his face was one of ruthless determination, perhaps the wizard didn't think that his 'pet' was able of such show of conviction and confidence. How mistaken the wizard was. The Dark Lord had never known anything about him, never truly taken an interest.

Fooled all of them, he had. He had kept all his deepest secrets, he knew he had taken all the precautions, he was certain. And the Dark Lord hadn't been able to break through all his Occlumency barriers during the punishment - Severus had taught him well. The Dark Lord hadn't seen how he had gone to the cave, how he had swaped lockets... Everyone was safe, everything was as he had planned...

He smirked at the Dark Lord, even if the Death Eater behind him was thrusting brutally into him. He widened his smirk, piercing his dark gray eyes into the Dark Lord's crimson ones, and he saw those eyes slightly widening. Yes… do ask yourself why I'm smirking, why I'm not afraid…

He opened his mouth, his gaze locked with the Dark Lord's, and he said in a hoarse yet loud, firm voice, "This is nothing. This isn't me losing, or you humiliating and punishing me. This isn't the end of me. And you'll find, someday, that you were bested by me."

His lips spread into a true smile, and he added exultantly, "Death is only the beginning."

And then, just when the Dark Lord must have realized that he was about to do something, he wandlessly made the sharp shard of glass sink into his throat. It sunk painfully, and he made it dig deeper and slash across his throat. He felt gushes of blood pouring from his throat… He couldn't speak anymore, he felt blissfully faint and relaxed… He heard yells, he thought to recognize Lucius' voice among them, but he only concentrated on the crimson eyes.

The Dark Lord had stood up, he was aiming his wand at him, no doubt trying to close the wound, no doubt not wanting him to die by his own means, but it was too late… He felt himself entering the blackness of unconsciousness, of death… And the last thing he saw was the crimson eyes, which flashed with something he couldn't clearly decipher. Was there regret there? Was there a slight modicum of some emotion? Hadn't it been the Dark Lord's plan to kill him in the end?

But he didn't care about that anymore… and he felt himself blissfully fading away…

Orion screamed, he yelled wildly, frenziedly, while what he had experienced, felt, seen and heard sunk into his mind, as he understood the implications of it… He felt shocked by it, shaken as he had never been before, as if a bludger had rocked his world off its axis…

'No, no,' cut through a raspy voice through his mind, 'We aren't done yet, Sextus… Be patient… I'll show you…'

Orion started sinking into a dark pit once again, but he frantically fought against it. He couldn't experience something like that again. He didn't want to know! No one was supposed to ever know about his past lives! He would go mad… He hadn't known that a Dementor had the power to do this… No Necromancer could do it, either. They could only make souls, summoned from the spiritual plane, remember their past lives, but they couldn't do that to a living wizard…

And Regulus… he had been Regulus Black… an uncle he had occasionally mourned not having known or met…

No, he couldn't think about that at present! About the impossibility, about the strangeness of it, about the earth-shattering implications of it… Everything in him rebelled against what was being forced into his mind - that narrowed abyss which would take him to remember more, probably of some other life he had previously had, about one of his soul's reincarnations… Everything in him fought against it; he felt his dark magic surging violently in him, he felt his Necromantic powers consuming him, magnified by the Resurrection Stone he was wearing…

He felt the Dementor's hole-like mouth pressing insistently on his, the creature's skeletal fingers gripping his head tighter… But a flicker of his own present awareness cut through the blackness of his mind, and he violently flailed his arms and legs, his eyes gazing frantically around him… The patroni had vanished at some point, since without being aware of them, he couldn't have maintained them…

Therefore, in an instant, he spread open one palm, buckling wildly under the Dementor, and he yelled as powerfully as he could, "EXPECTO PATRONUM!"

This time, the Basilisk and Phoenix, seeming reenergized, shot from his extended palm and crushed right into the Dementor. The wraith-like creature was forced away from him, and Orion instantly crouched on his hands and knees, his eyes watery, his throat aching, his breath heavy pants for air, and his mind a messy, wrecked havoc of emotions and memories wrapped in a turmoil of rampaging, frantic thoughts.

With great effort, but thanks to the discipline of his skill in Occlumency, he forced all of that away from his mind. Now was not the time to analyze and confront what the Dementor had made him experience. Now was the time to end what he came there to do.

Breathing haggardly, he quickly stood up, his all-black eyes blazing with a fury he hadn't felt in a long time.

'You want me to remember,' he heatedly spat in his mind, knowing that the Dementor would hear it, since he hadn't cancelled the Necromantic spell between them. 'You want me to know who I was… this Sextus you keep mentioning… But I don't care about that! Whoever I was, whatever I did to you, it was my past reborn self. Not I! And you have done much to me as well – you took my father. You want to kill me, and I want to kill you, as you very well know by now. So try it. And let's see who wins!'

And without wasting more time, he mentally ordered his patroni to back away from the creature, and he quickly ran out of the summoning portal made by his Necromantic magic. He didn't have to look back to know that the Dementor had followed him out of it, since the creature probably knew very well that, outside the portal, he couldn't make the creature go away. The Dementor would see it as an advantage.

As soon as he stood feet away from the portal, Orion spun around and aimed his wand at the Dementor, who was quickly gliding towards him. Not too far behind, the patroni followed, but he made them float still, nearby.

'My mistake,' resounded a hoarse voice in his mind, sharply painful, fierce and curt. 'You are more powerful than I suspected… more strong-willed… No point now in trying to make you remember, Sextus…'

The Dementor was now a few paces away from him, and to Orion, the creature seemed to be piercing him with its blind, milky eyes.

'Do you feel it?' echoed the raspy voice in his head, its tone low, almost soft.

'Feel what, Cadmus?' spat Orion in his mind, with a tight grip on his wand, still aiming it at the wraith-like creature. 'For you know that you are Cadmus Peverell, don't you?'

A harsh chuckle bounced in his mind, making Orion slightly cringe, and the Dementor's voice poured forward, 'I know who I am, Sextus. But I can't say the same about you… Pity… But I was talking about the souls, Sextus… Do you feel them, in me? I know you must, since you are wearing my Stone, my precious Hallow…'

Without having realized it, Orion found that the Dementor was now inches away from him. But not in a threatening posture; it was simply hovering in front of him. And he shivered as he felt the creature's eerie, dark aura pressing on him. Orion's breath was slowly coming out as puffs of air which condensed in their cold surroundings, and he felt again that inexorable hunger… Whatever the Dementor was doing, it was working, for he felt attracted to the creature, as if it held a warmth he needed… Something enticing which would abate his desire, his hunger, his thirst…

'Given your show of power, and the way you were able to break through it, I think I won't kill you,' rasped out the creature's voice in his mind, 'You could be much more useful in other ways… And perhaps, this ending would be more fitting for you… To be with me…'

Orion frowned, not quite understanding, but the strange numbness and haziness wrapping his mind seemed to freeze any rational thought. He could only feel a mesmerizing need… the hunger… while the Gaunt ring took hold of him again… He mightily fought against it, as he had learned to do with Grindelwald, trying to control himself… But as the Dementor inched its hole-like mouth closer to his, he felt his determination caving in… He felt himself yielding to what the Dementor was offering… He knew what was happening, but this time, he didn't fight back, since what the Dementor did didn't feel threatening, and his dark magic didn't rise in him in self-defense, as usual.

When the creature pressed its hole-like mouth into his, Orion welcomed it, feeling the enticing, promised warmth in it, even though he felt a burning, icy pain on his lips. A peaceful, embracing feeling took over his mind, and he could only feel the Dementor's cloaked and skeletal arms tightly surrounding his body, as their mouths locked together and skeletal fingers carded, almost lovingly, through his hair. Orion felt a frisson of fear, of rational revulsion, but it flickered away in the instant that he felt something glowing from the Dementor; a warmth building between them.

His all-black gaze dropped down, and over their locked mouths, he saw the middle of the Dementor's body glowing in whiteness. He discerned an intense ball of white light filtering through the creature's cloak - a whirlwind of meshed, ethereal shapes; ghostly faces, arms, legs, hands… Distantly, he heard their eerie voices, wails, and pleadings… from the souls trapped inside the Dementor… He even thought to recognize his father's voice among them, but it didn't quite register in his mind. He only felt a blazing spike of desire, while the Dementor kept meshing its hole-like mouth into his.

'Take some of them,' said a low, raspy voice in his mind, its tone lulling and soft, 'Feed, Necromancer. Join me, Sextus… I know you hunger for them… You need them, to make that empty coldness go away…'

'Yes,' mumbled Orion in his mind, feeling a detached sense of peacefulness embracing him, while something warm and enticing pressed against his lips.

He saw the creature's exposed, skeletal throat glowing in whiteness, something exquisite travelling through it – a soul, he realized. A soul being offered to him, to pass through their locked mouths, and flow into his being. He could take it… Orion momentarily closed his eyes, while he felt the Dementor's arms tighten around him, something insistently being pushed against his lips.

Yes, he could take it, and he knew what would happen. But it could serve his purposes, couldn't it? If he took a soul into his body, under the influence of the Resurrection Stone, he would live off it, slowly consuming that soul, and he would become something similar to a Dementor, but not truly one… But he would be powerful, as well. Very powerful… And that was what he needed. After all, he would need to kill Grindelwald to obtain the wizard's dark magic – the same unique dark magic as his- but he wouldn't kill Voldemort for it. So he needed another source of power. He wanted to become a full-fledged Necromancer in order to accomplish that; in order to be powerful enough to survive the Vindico test, and not need to kill another Dark Lord, besides Grindelwald, for it. But this was just as good as, or even better, than becoming a full-fledged Necromancer… Yes, it was…

Orion closed his eyes, and slowly crept a hand along the Dementor's rotted, skeletal neck, and he tightly grabbed the creature's nape. And without pondering about it any longer, with his mind encompassed by a hazy, detached pit of peacefulness and numbness, he opened his mouth wide open, pressing against the Dementor's.

Instantly, he felt an exquisite, blazing warmth starting to pour into mouth, while skeletal fingers smoothly carded his hair, as if cooing a child.

"NO! STOP IT!"

The desperate, eerie, potent scream pierced through his awareness, and something abruptly pulled him away from his source of enticing warmth.

Haggardly gasping for breath, with his heart thumping wildly in his chest, Orion stared with wide eyes at the scene before him, shaking his head repeatedly, clearing it, and trying to understand what had happened. Whatever influence the Dementor had had over him, it had vanished. He still felt the hunger, caused by the Gaunt ring he was wearing, but he could control it now, as he had practiced with Grindelwald.

Whatever hold the creature had over his mind had faded away, and now, aware of himself, Orion gazed at the two figures in front of him. The Dementor hovered in mid air, still as a stone statue, while Eloise Talbot's spirit stood between them. Immediately, he realized that she had been who had pulled them apart; that she had interceded so that he wouldn't take in a soul and become a Dementor-like creature.

Shakily, he let out a heavy breath, surprised at the Dementor's powers, and admitting his own weakness. But he felt no shame in that. He knew very well that Cadmus was the most powerful Dementor of existence, since he was the first one, the oldest one.

"Eloise," said a raspy voice, very low and faint, and it sounded painfully longing and yearning.

Orion's eyes widened. The Dementor had spoken, with great effort, it seemed, but the creature had done it. The wraith-like thing was powerful indeed.

"Yes, it's me, Cadmus," said Eloise softly, her ethereal, doe-like eyes gazing at the Dementor.

Orion could tell that she was scared, horrified even, as she stared at the skeletal, inhuman, shriveled and rotten face of the Dementor, who still had its hood down.

Abruptly, the Dementor swiftly swooped down on him, like a being bent on furious, murdering revenge. But this time, Orion was prepared, and he made his patroni jump in between them. And they hissed and sharply cried, ramming against the Dementor.

'You did this!' painfully cut through his mind a hoarse, raging voice, while the Dementor seemed to be too crazed to even battle the patroni, which kept pounding into it, shoving the creature away from Orion. 'You summoned her - I'll kill you for this, Sextus!'

"STOP!" yelled Eloise, her voice teary but loud, and pleading. "Don't attack him! He's not to blame for anything, Cadmus. Look at me. LOOK AT ME!"

The Dementor turned towards her, and Orion could see its cloaked, emaciated frame shaking tremulously, and he inwardly smirked with triumph. He knew the cause of Cadmus' wrath towards him, he knew the reason why the Dementor was trembling, and he had counted on it happening. The Dementor felt a constant hunger for souls, Eloise's included, and even for more reason since her spirit glowed in a pure, untarnished whiteness, and since he had loved her and wanted her, obsessively. The situation was perfect; just what he had wanted to happen. And now was his time to act. Moreover, he felt no pity or commiseration towards Cadmus, not after what the Dementor had made him experience.

'Do you feel her, Cadmus?' he said in his mind, in a silky, entincing voice. 'She's beautiful, isn't she? So pure, so gentle, her soul so exquisite… Imagine what it would feel to take her… Imagine what it would feel to be finally joined with her… With her soul in you… This is what you have always wanted, longed for… Her, with you… Take her, and she'll be with you, forever…'

'No!' spat a raspy voice in his mind, thought the Dementor was still turned towards Eloise, not seeing her, because the creature couldn't, but surely sensing her and not wanting to lose that. 'Send her back to the spiritual plane! Sextus, send her away!' The creature shuddered. 'Please, Sextus…'

Orion inwardly smirked. Oh yes, Cadmus wouldn't be able to help himself. The hunger wouldn't allow Cadmus to ignore such a soul, the Dementor wouldn't be able to resist.

"Cadmus," said Eloise gently, her ghostly eyes watery while she beseechingly spread her hands forwards. "Please, end this madness. This isn't you, my beloved. Come with me, as you should have done long ago. Please-"

"Leave!" rasped out the Dementor shakily, its cloaked, skeletal body, still glowing with the souls it had inside, violently trembling. "Eloise, leave… I beseech you… I can't… control it."

A puzzled frown spread over Eloise's ethereal face, before she said gently, "Come with me-"

"This is Sextus!" said the Dementor hoarsely, pointing a grayish, skeletal finger at Orion. "He tricked you… he planned for this… He is Sextus!"

Eloise's ghostly, doe-like eyes widened as her gaze flickered to Orion, intently inspecting him. She must have understood something, for she turned to face the Dementor again, and said softly, "I believe you, but it doesn't matter, Cadmus. Sextus isn't to blame for anything. What you did was of your own accord, following your wishes. He had nothing to do with it. In fact, you should be the one apologizing to him, Cadmus, for not being there for him - I told you, you should have. " She shook her head, a sad, sorrowful expression spreading over her face, and she moved closer to the Dementor. "Please, my beloved, come with me…"

Orion frowned – Sextus, again. That name rang a bell. He had seen or read it somewhere, but he couldn't clearly remember where. Nevertheless, he pushed away all the questions that popped into his mind, about Sextus and who that was and what had happened between Sextus, Eloise and Cadmus. Instead, he occupied his time in silkily whispering persuasions into his mind, which would be heard by the Dementor, while Eloise kept beseechingly talking to the creature.

'Take her,' he said inwardly, his voice a smooth, soft, persuading trill. 'Kiss her, Cadmus. Don't fight what you are, don't fight your desires. Accept what you are, what you became, and fulfill your wishes. It has been centuries without her, Cadmus… All those centuries alone, yearning for her… Wishing to see her, but you didn't dare to show yourself as you are now; a Dementor, something she must have feared… But don't you feel it? She doesn't fear you, Cadmus… She wants you, even though she's seen you like this…'

He saw the Dementor inching closer to Eloise, gliding in halting, jerky movements, as if fighting against something. And quickly, he wandlessly accioed the translation of Cadmus' journal, opened it in the middle, and read a personal passage with his mind's voice.

'When a vague murmur echoes confused behind my back, and I believe a distant voice has called my name, I know that in the shadows about me, it is you who calls. In the depth of the night, when my heart is troubled and grieved, and I feel on my lips the touch of a tender breath, and I know that, unseen at my side, it is you who breathes.'

He paused, before adding smoothly, 'It doesn't have to be that way, Cadmus. You can have her for real… Let me tell you more about what you felt…' He flipped some pages of the book, and continued, 'I know what despair and unhappiness is; it's to love with all the consuming fierceness of my soul, to feel that I would give my blood, my last breath, my immortality and eternity, this life and the other, just to embrace you day and night, in my dreams and thoughts...'

Orion glanced up and saw that the Dementor was a pace away from Eloise, while she stared at the creature with watery, pleading eyes, and he immediately said in his mind, 'You lost her, but she's here now, Cadmus. Embrace her - take her! Kiss her-'

Suddenly, a sharp, hoarse screech seemed to rip from the Dementor's throat, and Orion involuntary shuddered when he heard the anguished sorrow and self-hatred in it, just when the creature swooped down on Eloise's ethereal spirit.

She looked startled, and horrified, and tried to fight against the Dementor, but Orion already knew it was a lost battle. He merely inwardly rolled his eyes at her romantic naiveté. Had she expected Cadmus, out of love, to simply go through the Gate with her, instead of consuming her? Meanwhile, he firmly stood in place, waiting for that crucial moment, his all-black, cold gaze fixed on them.

Then, it happened: the Dementor locked its hole-like mouth to Eloise's ghostly lips, and she let out a piercing cry, before her ethereal shape started losing shape, as her soul began to flow into Cadmus' mouth.

Instantly, Orion spread his right hand before him, and quietly said the welsh incantation he had learned from Cadmus' journal.

"Tywyll anrhegu mi y cyfoeth am y Trais am Marwolaeth…"

It was the same spell he had used to free the Resurrection Stone from Voldemort's piece of soul, and to trap that Tom into the Black heirloom necklace he had given to Voldemort afterwards. It was an amazingly versatile Necromantic spell which allowed him to manipulate souls in infinite ways… Just like he saw himself doing in his visions, when he killed Voldemort and when he used his Necromantic powers in battle, to rip souls from enemies…

He shook his head, clearing it from such thoughts, and raised his voice, as he finished the chant, "Anrhegu mi y Llaw am Marwolaeth!"

He immediately felt his dark magic and Necromantic powers rushing inside him, in surging waves, spurred by the Gaunt ring. And in the blink of an eye, a burst of glowing, black magic spread over his hand, forming the Hand of Death, the 'Llaw am Marwolaeth'.

A shudder of ecstatic pleasure ran down his spine, as he felt the magnificence of his power swirling inside him. And without wasting any more time, he swiftly approached the Dementor, fixedly gazing at the creature. Cadmus was still trembling, his skeletal, rotten head slightly bowed downwards, but Eloise wasn't there anymore. He could see a glow inside the creature, even more intense than before, the light surging through the creature's cloak. And he distinguished the details of the swirling orb of souls; the ghostly, twisted faces, the limbs and hands, all knotted together.

"Father!" he called loudly, since he knew that his father's soul would be able to hear him, just like it had happened during his Necromancy test.

Abruptly, the Dementor raised its head, its milky, blind eyes seemingly piercing him, while it swiftly glided towards him. Without much thought, Orion made the patroni stand between them, without attacking, but defensively blocking the Dementor's path. He was almost done with Cadmus, and he wouldn't waste time by battling him.

"Sirius! DAD!" he bellowed hastily, with his glowing black hand spread towards the middle of the Dementor, aiming at the bundle of meshed souls.

He saw the Dementor and his patroni fighting against each other, but Cadmus didn't seem to put much effort on it, since Orion knew that the Dementor had the power to blast them away, but the creature didn't do it.

Suddenly, a ghostly figure partly came out of the swirling, whitish, glowing whirlpool of souls, fiercely struggling to rip away from the rest of humanoid shapes. He saw a ghostly white hand frantically trying to reach him, as the ethereal face became less distorted; his father's features quickly gaining definition, as it reached out with an ethereal hand...

"Orion?" whispered Sirius' soul, while its ghostly eyes intently gazed at him, as if trying to discern if he was truly his son.

"Yes," said Orion exultantly, "I'm older, Dad. But it's me!"

Feeling a rush of thrilling triumph, he instantly pushed his Necromantic powers outwards, pouring them from his fingertips, creating a phantasmagorical black hand of vibrating power which emulated the movements of his own hand. As he kept pouring out his magic, he saw the black Hand of Death swiftly expanding, powerfully. This time, he had the means, power and knowledge to rescue his father. And he felt such a feeling of victorious accomplishment that he almost wept with joy, while he plunged the Hand of Death into the Dementor. He made it rip into the glowing ball of souls, and tightly clutch the 'body' of his father's soul, while he used his real left hand to grab the ghostly hand his father had reached out.

With fierce determination, he balled the fingers of his right hand, as if grasping something in the air, and he saw the black hand of Necromantic magic doing the same, gripping the soul of his father out of the Dementor. At the same time, he used his left hand to pull on his father's ethereal hand, and he saw the complete soul of his father coming out, while hearing a joyous cry resounding through the chamber – his father's amazed, thrilled, and rambunctious laughter.

And that sound filled him with a feeling he hadn't experienced in a long time: true, pure, unadulterated, and carefree happiness.

It was out, completely, and Orion gazed at his father's floating soul with tears brimming in his eyes, inspecting every inch of the glowing, white shape. It was mostly perfectly defined, just slightly and minimally frayed on some edges, but he knew that it wouldn't be too consequential. His father's soul was complete, the time spent inside the Dementor, being slowly consumed, hadn't been long enough to cause any significant damage to the soul.

Sirius' ghostly, wide eyes glanced around, wildly. "Pup, what-?"

"No time to explain," said Orion urgently. "Later. And, please, go along with the magic I'll use."

Sirius nodded, with a perplexed expression of puzzled wonder on his ethereal face, and Orion peeled his gaze away from him to glance at the Dementor. He deeply frowned when he saw that Cadmus was hovering in mid-air, blocked from him by the patroni, but not attacking them any longer. The creature's milky white eyes merely seemed to be piercing him, even though Orion knew that it wasn't possible. Though the Dementor could surely feel and understand what was happening.

Regardless, pushing any suspicions away from his mind, Orion turned to the task-at-hand, and he swiftly made the glowing Hand of Death encompass his father's soul. Then, with it, he created a protective orb of blackness around the soul, before he made it float on top of his father's body, several feet away from Cadmus and him.

Deeply satisfied, Orion turned around to gaze at the Dementor.

'You had all of this planned,' pierced a raspy voice through his mind, 'for me to take her soul.'

Orion arched an eyebrow, as he detected the wrecking dejection and sorrow in the creature's words. Suddenly, and quite against his will, he felt a pang of commiseration for the Dementor. Through the wizard's journal, he had come to know the man very well, to experience, first-hand, Cadmus' emotions. Regardless, he ruthlessly crushed any empathy and pity, and stared right back at him.

'I did,' nonchalantly said Orion in his mind, not bothering to conceal his smugness.

After all, despite the unforeseeable glitches in his plan, everything had worked out just as he had devised. He had known, from that start, that he wouldn't be able to defeat a Dementor like Cadmus with power –not with his Necromantic abilities or with his dark magic- but with slyness and manipulations. Intellect over power, in this case, worked better.

'I will kill you for this, Sextus. For what you made me do to Eloise.'

In a fraction of a second, the Dementor swiftly flew towards him, in a crazed, wrathful manner, which made Orion perceive the creature's murdering hatred towards him. But, immediately, he made the patroni ram violently against the creature, while he danced away from the attack, letting out a harsh bark of laughter.

'What I made you do, Cadmus?' he said silkily in his mind, still sharply laughing. 'You were the one who couldn't fight your hunger, who took her soul into yourself, not I.' He smirked at the Dementor, and added loftily, 'Regardless, I bear her no ill-will. It isn't my wish for you to end up utterly destroying her. You have a chance of saving her soul, still.'

He pointed at the Gate behind the Dementor, and continued calmly, 'Don't waste any time trying to kill me, Cadmus. I will retaliate, and with the Resurrection Stone, I'm powerful enough to withstand any attack of yours for quite some time. In that meanwhile, you'll be slowly consuming her soul. And you don't want that, do you? Your poor beloved... There's only one way in which you can free her soul from you. Only one way in which she can go back into the spiritual plane, unharmed.' He intently pierced the wraith-like creature with his glowing, all-black eyes, and said firmly, 'Go through the Necromancer's Gate, Cadmus. Only like that, will you save her.'

'My existence, for her soul – for the lives she has yet to live,' said a hoarse mind in Orion's mind. 'I see. This is what you wanted all along; for me to enter the Gate, willingly. Clever and very cunning, Sextus, as always…'

Absolute, pressing silence spread between them, and finally, the Dementor's milky eyes seemed to bore into his, while the creature rasped out into his mind, 'Patricide – one more thing to add to your list, Sextus… Though, I'm not surprised...'

A skeletal finger peeked from the creature's cloak, pointing at the black orb containing Sirius' soul, and a sharp, mirthless chuckle painfully resounded through Orion's mind. 'A father for a father.'

At those words, Orion's eyes impossibly widened and he stood rooted in place, shocked into stillness, while he saw Cadmus swiftly gliding and plunging, without any other words, into the breezy, undulating veil of the Necromancer's Gate.

He stood in silent inaction, his glowing all-black eyes wide and unseeing, while his mind was frenziedly assaulted by a havoc of thoughts… And suddenly, everything clicked in place, as Cadmus' words finally made sense to him.

Always taking what is not yours… I never cared for you… I despise you, all what you are… and your very conception… you are an old soul… Patricide… A father for a father…

And finally, he remembered where he had seen the name 'Sextus'. Orion gasped, horrified, and his knees threatened to buckle under him. But he hastily forced himself to pull it together, not quite knowing what to feel anymore... Since, now, he remembered that he had seen the name 'Sextus Black' at the top of the tapestry in Grimmauld's Place; it was the first name in the main branch of the Black line – not of the bloodline of Bellatrix, Narcissa and Andromeda, but of Sirius' and his. Sextus Black had to have been the son of Cadmus Peverell and Ursula Black. The son Cadmus had despised, since Sextus wasn't Cadmus's son with Eloise Talbot. And Sextus had been the person who, undoubtedly, had taken the Resurrection Stone from Cadmus, at some point.

He had never paused to wonder how the Hallow had passed down along the Black line, even though he had known that Cadmus would have never departed from it, and much less given it to any Black descendant. Now, he knew. Sextus, in life, must have searched for his father, finding Cadmus in Glen Mulag village, and probably finding a once again resurrected Eloise Talbot with him. Clearly, it happened some centuries before Salazar Slytherin went in search for a Necromancer to answer his questions, to that very same village. Whatever had happened, Sextus must have stolen the Resurrection Stone from Cadmus; perhaps trying to help his father, or just not wanting Cadmus to keep trying to bring back to life his half-blood mistress.

Regardless, he understood the most important implication: he was an old soul, with countless past lives. He had been Sextus, the patriarch and first Head of the Main Black House, and most recently, he had been Regulus Black.

Orion shuddered, and tightly wrapped his arms around himself. This was knowledge he shouldn't have. No one alive should know about their past lives. It was dangerous, and with the potential of driving him insane, if the matter started to obsess him… How many others had he been? What had he done in his other lives? Patricide, like Cadmus said he had done at present?

He tightly clenched his jaw, feeling a pang of something he didn't want to feel – slight anguish and regretful sorrow, since Cadmus had been right. By leaving no other option to the Dementor, he had forced Cadmus into killing himself... Ultimately, he had killed Sextus' father… Someone who had once been his father… Mercilessly using Cadmus' lingering love for Eloise against him...

He fiercely shook his head. He wasn't Sextus, nor Regulus! Not anymore. And he wouldn't shed a single tear over Cadmus' death, or feel any useless compunction. What he had done had been 'a father of a past life in exchange for a father of his real, present life'. He truly didn't regret it. He would have done the same even if he had known that he had been Sextus Black.

But something else still made him feel uneasy, immensely perturbing him; it was the pattern and speedily transition of his soul into its rebirths. Souls were supposed to take a long time in being reincarnated, and yet, if he remembered correctly, Regulus had died almost a whole year before his own birth. Meaning, that two or three months had passed, at most, between Regulus' death and when his parents really conceived him; when Lily Evans had become pregnant by Sirius Black. Such swift rebirth of a soul was unheard of…

It filled him with misgivings… Something didn't feel natural about that quick transition… And, also, the reincarnations were along the same bloodline; at least the rebirths which started from Sextus, then, millennia afterwards, into Regulus and himself… No, something definitely wasn't right… It seemed – forced. Though he knew that there was no power, or being on Earth, with the capacity of influencing rebirths…

Orion's mind swamped with speculations, but at last, he forced it to clear. And finally, he peeled his gaze from the Necromancer's Gate he had been unseeingly staring at, ever since Cadmus had crossed it. He firmly clenched his jaw, ruthlessly washed away any lingering sorrow, and swiftly turned towards the orb containing his father's soul.

This, the present, was what mattered. Not who he had been and what he had done. Though, he would keep it in mind. There was, undoubtedly, something strange about his rebirths. And also, something significant that he had realized from the memories that the Dementor had forced him to experience, from his past life as Regulus Black… Oh, yes, he would definitely have to dig into that… And he knew exactly whom to ask, but he would leave it for some time later.

With a shaky, shuddered breath, Orion swept closer to the orb of blackness. He extended his right hand, which was still glowing in darkness since he hadn't cancelled the Hand of Death spell in all that time. And then, he opened his hand, seeing how the magical replica, the true Hand of Death, opened as well.

He made it gently hold his father's soul, while he said quietly, "Don't ask questions, Dad. Not about what you saw or heard, or how I've done this. I'll try to explain later." He gazed at his father's ethereal face, adding with a hint of pleading, "Alright?"

"Er – yes, of course," said Sirius instantly, his ghostly face deeply frowning - with concern, Orion hoped.

Though, maybe his father was frowning at the way he looked like. Orion supposed that he must look like a mess; disheveled, frazzled, shaken, troubled, exhausted, and possibly wearing his emotions on his face, after such a turmoil of a confrontation with Cadmus. Not to mention that he eyes still had to be all-black. He inwardly grimaced. That was something he wasn't looking forward to explaining. Well, he wasn't looking forward to explaining anything to his father, but he knew he had to, and then stoically bear the outburst.

Concentrating back on his task, Orion kneeled besides his father's body, and he slowly made the Hand of Death carefully handle his father's soul, until it laid on top of the living body. The next part would happen without much of his assistance. He simply made the Hand of Death push the soul into the body, and Sirius' soul seemed to naturally take to it. With an intense gaze, Orion quietly observed how his father's soul seeped into the body, disappearing from sight.

Suddenly, the body glowed in a potent flash of whiteness, and Orion's lips spread into a beaming, joyful smile. He saw the body arching, before it flattened back on the floor, and the glow vanished. A slight tremor racked through his father's body, and then, a shaky gasp burbled from the pale lips.

In an instant, Orion cancelled the Hand of Death spell, and he placed his palms on his father's forehead, just as he saw the grey eyes opening with great effort.

"Rest," he muttered softly, while he casted a wandless sleeping charm.

The grey eyes summarily closed, and his father's body relaxed limply on the stone floor. Orion remained kneeling, silently observing his father, watching him breathe rhythmically, while feeling a luxuriant and ecstatic surge of pride in himself, reawakened love for his father, and an all-encompassing sense of triumph. He had waited so long for this, planned so exhaustively, practiced and developed his powers so much – just for this occasion. And it had worked; he had finally done it.

He didn't know how much time passed, but at last, feeling exhausted and utterly drained, he slowly got up, and glanced at his patroni.

Suddenly, a beautiful song mingled with a gentle hiss echoed and vibrated in the air, filling Orion with a sense of comforting warmness. He smiled at the Basilisk and Phoenix, and said quietly, "Come back to me."

His words were unnecessary, his mere thought sufficed, but he liked talking to them in the occasions he produced them, because he felt that they were like friends - his constant companions, inside him. Friends he couldn't lose, not like he had lost Calypso and Lezander.

Orion closed his eyes, and sighed in pleasure, when he felt the patroni plunging into him. He immediately felt reenergized, filled up and powered by the magic that had returned to his magical core, swiftly adding more to it.

Finally, he glanced around and summarily waved his Death and Life repeatedly, putting everything into his school bag, and bringing down the summoning portal and the ward that had kept the Guild's Necromancers apart from the area. Then, he flicked his wand once more, making his slumbering father gently hover in mid-air.

That done, he gazed at the Necromancers, closely gauging their reactions.