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:
Well, and I thought that I wouldn't be updating for a while *snickers* This just proves that when the muse strikes, she nags and nags until you have to concede and sit down to type on your computer, just to put down in writing the flow of ideas that won't leave you alone and don't let you study. *grins* Anyway, I am sleepy and tired, so I'll be replying to reviews the next time I post, and there were many excellent reviews which I will most certainly reply to directly, since I can't do it here!
Oh, and I had to describe many scenes in this chapter instead of writing them with dialogues because if not I would simply would have never ended writing, and also because I wanted to pick up the pace a little. The good thing is that we're approaching the end of Orion's sixth year, and that will be very fun to write.
So enjoy & review!
Chapter 16
The instant Orion apparated to Black Manor, his impassive expression crumbled. He was aware that he had crossed a turning point in his life, and it felt rather ominous, accompanied by a deep sense of lost – painful and piercing. Indeed, his relationship with Voldemort had effectually ended. And despite that he realized the positive benefits of it, it grieved him more than anything, since he hadn't wanted it to happen, and even less in that way – parting in cold anger and with so many things left unsaid.
Nevertheless, he had something clear: he would not allow himself to wallow in misery and dejection. He couldn't afford it. He had many things to do. Furthermore, his separation from Voldemort wasn't the end of things between them. When he obtained the last Hallow, he would tell the wizard everything… Well, almost everything, since he didn't want Voldemort to turn against him and try to steal the Hallows from him – which would certainly be what Voldemort would do. Thus, he was aware that his revelation had to be maneuvered wisely – slyly spinning the disclosure regarding all VA matters, telling Voldemort part of the truth without jeopardizing everything he had accomplished. But he would worry about that when the time came.
Therefore, it was pointless to grieve about what had happened between Voldemort and him. He simply wouldn't. He had loads on his plate. And that's exactly what he inwardly repeated to himself, steeling his determination.
Regardless, Orion hesitated about apparating to Potter Manor, as he had intended to do. He didn't think he could stand his father at present. The wizard would again question why he was still Voldemort's spouse, and he wasn't prepared to tell him that he wouldn't remain married for too long. He honestly didn't think he could bear his father's subsequent cheerfulness and roaring triumph. No, he would just end up crucioing Sirius, he had no doubt about that, since he didn't feel composed enough to put up with him.
But there was someone else he could visit, as he had waited the whole week to do. Thus, Orion wasted no more time and he entered his bedroom to grab the schoolbag with the clothes he had packed for the weekend – the one he had left behind after Loki told him about what had happened with the Dementors and Voldemort.
Finally, he ruthlessly pushed away all depressing and uselessly sorrowful thoughts, pulled a nonchalant expression on his face, and he climbed into the nearest fireplace, flinging floo powder in it, and clearly stating his destiny - while he prepared himself to demand some answers.
The moment Orion stumbled out of the green flames and into the grand office, he saw his Headmaster standing up from behind the large, ornate desk, with a startled and perplexed expression on his aged features. The office was dimly lit by a few candles here and there, and the old wizard was wearing a silky black night-robe. The man had clearly been about to go to sleep, after a late night of work.
"Orion – I wasn't expecting you this Friday night. Shouldn't you be at Hogwarts? You usually floo to Durmstrang on Saturday mornings."
Orion merely grunted, as he flicked his wrist to wandlessly clean the soot from his robes, before he carelessly dropped his schoolbag on the floor.
"Is everything well?" said Vagnarov, gesturing for him to take a seat.
Orion grumbled something as a response, while he tiredly plopped down on the offered armchair. Then he pierced the old wizard with his eyes, his sour mood worsening due to the innocently befuddled and concerned expression on his Headmaster's face.
"What's wrong, Orion? You look pale and troubled. In your letter you told me that everything went well when you resurrected your father-"
"That's not why I might look troubled to you," interrupted Orion briskly, "but it is why I have come here to see you. I've waited the whole week for this."
Vagnarov stared at him, puzzled and worried, and Orion finally spat angrily, "Death is only the beginning, Vulcan!" He pierced the startled old wizard with his eyes, and gritted out accusingly, "I have only heard YOU say that. Only you! I've never heard it from anyone else – muggle, wizard, or Necromancer. And I have never read that phrase in any textbook, not even those pertaining to the Necromantic Arts. Not verbatim, at least. It's entirely a phrase of your own!"
The old wizard blinked at him, before he intertwined his fingers on top of the desk, calmly gazing back at him. "It is. I've said it enough times during my Necromancy classes for you to know that it's a phrase of my own. Do you care tell me why you've flooed here to merely say it back to me?"
"And do you care tell me," interjected Orion crisply, his jaw clenching, "why Regulus Black knew your phrase? Why he spouted it to Voldemort the night he was tortured – just before he killed himself!"
Vagnarov paled, his dark eyes widening as he bore them into Orion's, and he said in a thread of a whisper, "How do you know about that?" His gaze became grieved, and his expression conflicted. "Regulus Black committed suicide? I thought Lord Voldemort had killed him-"
"Yes, that's what everyone thought," groused out Orion. "Evidently, that was what Voldemort ordered those present to say. But no, Regulus killed himself, just before saying, amongst other things, that 'Death is only the beginning'." He narrowed his eyes at the old man, and demanded sharply, "Why did he say that, Vulcan? When did you interact with Regulus, and why?!"
"How do you know about this?" muttered Vagnarov, his shoulders dropping as if supporting a great burden.
"Because I saw, felt, and experienced it myself," snapped Orion, his emerald eyes flashing with anger. "Because I was Regulus, Vulcan! I felt every thrust into my – his body, every rape, and I experienced every thought he had and every pain inflicted on him - everything!"
Vagnaroved deeply frowned at him. "What do you mean that you were Regulus? You saw this in a pensieve? You came upon a memory of Regulus Black?"
"No," bit out Orion grouchily, piercing him with his eyes. "I mean that I was truly Regulus Black – he was the previous reincarnation of my soul!" The old wizard's eyes grew large, and Orion jerkily carded his fingers through his hair, as he continued more calmly, "I haven't told anyone, and I didn't want to tell you in my letter, just to be safe. But Cadmus did something to me." He confusedly shook his head, and muttered, "I don't know how he did it, but when I confronted him he purposely made me remember some of my past lives' experiences. Just Regulus', though he wanted me to remember way back. Fortunately, I was able to break away from it, and Cadmus stopped trying to force me to remember."
He let out a sharp, mirthless chuckle. "Oh, now I know why he didn't try harder! Now I know why Cadmus went into the Necromancer's Gate so calmly, without taking any further revenge on me. He knew he would leave me behind tortured by what he had done to me... I thought that he could only inflict those memories on me while I was in his presence, but that's not the case! I succeeded, Cadmus is dead, but this whole past week I've been experiencing my past rebirths' lives – in the flesh. I feel everything they did! And it happens at all times, sporadically, not only in my dreams, when I'm awake as well. Cadmus certainly took his revenge on me, Vulcan! And do you want to know why he hated me so much? It's because I was Sextus Black – Cadmus' son with Ursula Black. I was the patriarch of the main Black line!"
"You were Regulus… and Sextus Black," muttered Vulcan, staring at him with a befuddled expression on his face.
"To name a few," interjected Orion sharply, narrowing his eyes at the old wizard. "From what I could gather when experiencing my past lives' memories, I have always been reborn into dark wizards – always male, magical, and dark. How's that possible? I thought reincarnations didn't follow a specific pattern. Furthermore, a soul usually takes decades if not centuries to be reborn again. Yet, my soul passed from Regulus to me in only a few months, after Regulus' death. Why? Why does my soul reincarnates so swiftly, whilst following such pattern?"
"I don't know," said Vagnarov quietly, with a deep and troubled frown on his face. "Necromancers believe that there is no pattern in reincarnations. Not one which follows gender, blood, and type of magic, at least." He bore his eyes into Orion's, and asked puzzled, "And you say the High One did this to you? I wasn't aware that Dementors had this ability."
"I don't think they do, because we would have heard something about it if they could do this," said Orion crisply. "I think only Cadmus had the power to unlock in me the memories of my past lives. It would make sense, since Cadmus was the first Dementor, the most ancient and powerful one."
"True," murmured Vagnarov, his expression still deeply pensive while he leaned back against his high, ornate armchair.
Orion pierced the old wizard with his eyes, and demanded, "How did Cadmus do this to me and how can I reverse it?"
"I don't know," replied Vagnarov quietly. "But it's safe to assume that what he did to you is similar to the Necromantic spell with which we can force summoned souls to remember their past lives. That spell cannot be used on souls inside living wizards, only on souls already in the spiritual plane, but it's clear that the High One used a variation of this spell."
"But how do I reverse it?" pressed on Orion impatiently.
Vagnarov eyed him with a hint of sadness and regret. "I don't know, my boy. I've never heard of such a thing." He leaned forward, and his eyes gleamed as he added quietly, "But perhaps you could see this as a benefit. You can learn much from your soul's past lives – the history of yourself, the arcane spells of old, some of the lost and ancient knowledge of the Dark Arts-"
"Yes, it sounds wonderful when you put it that way," interrupted Orion briskly. "But the problem is that everything I experience is not only unsettling but often painful – emotionally and psychologically! They seem to be the worst memories of my past selves. You have no idea about the things I've been experiencing lately. Thank Circe that I've never been a rapist, as far as I could see, but – yup! Psychopathic tendencies have certainly been my constant companions throughout the ages! I've killed brothers, fathers, muggles, light wizards, and also dark wizards unrelated to me, not to mention poisoning wives, having countless mistresses and catamites, stealing, torturing, and murdering for my own benefit. I've been feared, despised, rejected, and not frequently loved or esteemed, though I've certainly garnered respect by show of riches, influence or power. Yet, I have occasionally been others' victim. I've been burned alive by muggles, lynched by mobs, raped as punishment, murdered by wives, poisoned by rivals, tortured by-"
"Your past reincarnations aren't who you currently are, Orion!" interjected Vulcan, looking frazzled and unsettled. "You must understand this. There's a reason why we aren't meant to know about our past lives. You must separate who you are at present from who you have been-"
"That's exactly my point – I CAN'T!" roared Orion angrily, pounding his fists on the wizard's desk, which made a few books jump in the air. "I've tried everything I could imagine, Vulcan. Occlumency failed, parsel spells did too, and I could only momentarily halt the influx of memories with my Necromantic abilities – it worked for a few minutes, but nothing assures me that the assault of past experiences won't be triggered again! And I cannot trot around Hogwarts whilst imbued in my Necromantic powers – my all-black eyes would give me away!"
Vagnarov flinched back, clearly startled by his angry outburst – by his show of short-fused Black temper… Or was it the headstrong Potter temper? Or the Lily Evans fiery temper? Well, it didn't matter, because from all of his three parents –blood adopted or biological- he had inherited temper to spare. Nevertheless, he didn't like to take out his stressed vexation on the old wizard, so he breathed deeply, forcing himself to calm down.
Orion carded his fingers through his hair, and said quietly, "Look, I have learned a lot from my past lives, even arcane old spells, as you said. But I'm not willing to go on like this. I know no rest, Vulcan. I need it to stop."
"I understand," murmured Vagnarov. "Perhaps, there's something I can do to help you. I should take a look into your mind to discover if something can be done."
"Good," said Orion, heaving in another deep breath. "That's precisely why I came to you. Obviously, I can't legilimize myself, but you can. And if what Cadmus did to me is anything similar to that Necromantic spell we talked about, then you could use Legilimency and your Necromantic abilities to form some sort of block in my mind."
Vagnarov nodded. "That seems a viable solution." He pierced him with his eyes, and said gravely, "If I succeed, do you want me to obliviate all the memories you have already experienced?"
"I…" Orion deeply frowned at him, and finally said firmly, "No. I want to remember them. But before you try it, I need my answers." He narrowed his eyes at the old wizard, and demanded sharply, "Did you ever meet Regulus Black?"
"Yes."
Orion's eyes narrowed further. "He said 'Death is only the beginning' because you said that phrase to him?"
"Yes," replied Vagnarov with a heavy sigh.
"Well, do explain, Vulcan," snapped Orion crisply, his jaw clenching. "Regulus never attended Durmstrang, so how did you have contact with him, and more importantly, why?"
Vagnarov eyed him silently, his features seeming more aged and burdened than usual, and he finally said quietly, "I met Regulus Black when the boy was eighteen years old, at a reunion purposely orchestrated so that I could meet him. It took place half a year after Regulus graduated from Hogwarts, and the host was Horace Slughorn." He pierced him with his eyes. "Do you know who that was? The real one, I mean, and not the false one currently at Hogwarts."
"Yeah, I know about him. The real Slughorn was an Aux Atrum," said Orion crisply, his hands balling into fists. "I see. You met me-" He shook his head, clearing it from the usual fog of confusion between his current and past selves, and continued, "You met Regulus at a SlugClub reunion party." He narrowed his eyes at the old man, and demanded angrily, "You were sent there by the Spirits, weren't you? Did they use Regulus as well? Was Regulus a VA candidate?"
"No, Regulus was never a candidate," replied Vagnarov quietly. "He was powerful above average but not extraordinarily, and he was untrained. His bloodline was of interest to the Spirits, but the boy wasn't powerful enough to yield the unique type of dark magic that you and Grindelwald have. Yet, as I said, the Spirits were interested in him. I was ordered to bring Regulus to Durmstrang during a weekend, and I know that the Spirits showed themselves to him during the visit. But I don't know what they spoke about. Regardless, I perceived a change in Regulus after that."
"What change?" interjected Orion, deeply frowning as he leaned forward. "Did the Spirits cast a compulsion mind web on him? What was he ordered to do?"
"I don't know," said Vagnarov with a heavy sigh. "But I don't think they casted any compulsions on him. He merely seemed awed, unsettled, yet also brimming with a new found sense of purpose."
Orion fiercely rubbed his forehead, and muttered, "What did the Spirits tell Regulus? What did they want from him…"
"I think it's pretty obvious by now," interjected Vagnarov quietly, boring his black eyes into Orion's. "Back then, I didn't know about horcruxes or that the Dark Lord had made several, but I'm sure the Spirits were aware of it-"
Orion snorted, and said acidly, "Of course they were. The Spirits made Slughorn influence Voldemort when he was a schoolboy. It was because of the mind web casted on him that Voldemort became obsessed about immortality. Voldemort made several horcruxes simply because the Spirits wanted a Dark Lord who would live long enough until a VA candidate appeared and killed him. That's all what Voldemort is to the Spirits – cattle for slaughter."
"Yes, that sounds as something the Spirits would do," said Vagnarov impassively, eyeing him closely. "And now that Valois disclosed to me the existence of the Dark Lord's horcruxes, I can only conclude that the Spirits ordered me to bring Regulus to them because they wanted to speak to someone close to the Dark Lord. You see, back then Regulus was already a Death Eater, and also… well…"
"Oh, you can say it," interjected Orion briskly. "I saw it. I was him, after all. Regulus was already Voldemort's fuck toy, then."
Vagnarov looked a bit uncomfortable, before he sharply nodded. "Yes, it was widely known in Death Eater ranks. And of course we, the Aux Atrum, had our spy among them."
"Of course," said Orion dryly. "So what you suspect is that the Spirits wanted to talk to Regulus because they knew he was close to Voldemort. So they were looking for another spy, or…"
His eyes widened, but Vagnarov beat him to it and explained his own conclusion, "I think the Spirits divulged to Regulus not only their existence but also that of the Aux Atrum. They must have also explained to him their goals regarding the creation of the Vindico Atrum, as well as how they used Dark Lords for their plans. Therefore, I can only deduce that Regulus was told about the Dark Lord's horcruxes. Perhaps he was even ordered to seek them-"
"No," interrupted Orion quietly, slowly shaking his head while his mind buzzed with thoughts. "Regulus wasn't openly told about the horcruxes. He merely found one by mistake…" He deeply frowned. "Yet, it couldn't have been a mistake at all… I was looking for something in Voldemort's treasured possessions, that's how I found the diary... You see, a diary was one of Voldemort's horcruxes, though it isn't any longer, it was used and destroyed long ago… But I – Regulus didn't know what the diary was at first, until he researched it and finally discovered what a horcrux was... After knowing that what I had found was a horcrux, I realized that there had to be more. And I wanted to at least find one, and destroy it. And I did find another horcrux, one that I could destroy since it wasn't in Voldemort's possession. Yet, I didn't have the time for it - Regulus didn't have the time for it. Voldemort discovered that I – that Regulus had seen the diary and Regulus was tortured and forced to confess that he knew what it was. Then, Voldemort proceeded with the real torture… and…" His jaw clenched, and he gritted out, "Then I, Regulus, killed myself before enduring more. But the crux of the matter is that the Spirits must have told Regulus to search for something in Voldemort's possessions. They obviously didn't tell him what a horcrux was, but they certainly described it vaguely. The Spirits must have wanted to have one or several horcruxes in their grasp, to be ready to hand them to a powerful VA candidate when such appeared. So that the Dark Lord could be swiftly killed by the candidate and so that Voldemort's dark magic would go into him."
Orion paused, and jerkily carded his fingers through his hair, while he muttered, "Yes, that's what happened. Yet I don't understand how I – damn it!- how Regulus could have been convinced by the Spirits. They didn't tell him exactly what he had to look for, but he must have known that it was something that could be used against Voldemort-"
"Orion," interjected Vagnarov quietly, his features grieved, "it's fair to assume that Regulus wanted to destroy the Dark Lord. It was no secret that the Dark Lord treated him harshly. That Regulus was nothing more than a pet to him. Regulus must have wanted to destroy this horcrux you speak about – the one he found and which wasn't in Voldemort's possession. Regulus must have wanted to destroy it for revenge."
"Yes, but there has to be some other reason," said Orion grimacing. "You don't understand, Vulcan. As pathetic as it sounds, Regulus loved Voldemort, despite the abuse. I felt it. Regulus loved him. Voldemort was - as twisted as it is- like a father, brother, mentor and friend to Regulus – all those figures in his life that he had lost. The Dark Lord was the first one who seemingly took him seriously, who gave him attention and affection – occasionally. Regulus was…I was pathetic…" He paused, and deeply frowned. "No, I wasn't pathetic. Not in the end. I didn't die pathetically, Vulcan. I died feeling resolved in my actions. Feeling a weird kind of hope… I felt truly important… My suicide not merely something to achieve oblivion, but one more step towards something greater…"
He gasped, and stared at Vagnarov, aghast. "When did you tell him that 'Death was only the beginning'?"
"Just before he left Dursmtrang, after the Spirits spoke to him," replied Vagnarov, with a troubled and pensive frown on his face. "Actually, I was ordered by the Spirits to tell him that. And I saw Regulus' determination hardening, though I didn't understand why that phrase must have been significant to him – he knew nothing about Necromancy, he didn't have the abilities. Yet, that phrase was the last thing I said to him, and I never saw him again." He pierced Orion with his eyes, his frown deepening. "I know what you must be thinking, but it's not possible, my boy."
"How would you know?" bit out Orion agitatedly. "Regulus' soul reincarnated in me – a VA candidate! And 'Death is only the beginning' was one of the last things he said before killing himself, Vulcan. The Spirits must have told Regulus what he could become in his next life. The Spirits must be the ones who have been manipulating the way my soul reincarnates-"
"They cannot be," interrupted Vagnarov gravely, piercing him with his eyes. "Morgana and Mordred were astoundingly powerful when they were alive, but their Spirits are not. It has been centuries since the only kind of magic they can yield is mind-magic. And there's no being –no matter how powerful- who can influence the way souls are reborn. It's simply not possible."
"But the pattern of my rebirths cannot be coincidental," insisted Orion, with a hard gleam in his eyes. "The pattern is clear and steady. Furthermore, why would Regulus say that Death was only the beginning? He must have known-"
"The only thing Regulus knew is what the Spirits told him," interjected Vagnarov sternly, boring his eyes into Orion's. "And there's no doubt in my mind that the Spirits are unable to manipulate how your soul is reincarnated. Therefore, the only thing you can suspect is that the Spirits made Regulus believe that he would reincarnate into someone powerful, but that's it. It was a mere manipulation, an empty promise, since the Spirits –or anyone else- have no way of influencing rebirths."
Orion's jaw clenched, and he gritted out, "Fine, I believe you. But it's obvious that the Spirits must know why my reincarnations follow a pattern. Moreover, as you said, they filled Regulus with lies about future power in the next life. Lies, since the Spirits couldn't have been certain that he would be reborn into me, a VA candidate. Yet, Regulus must have believed them, that's why he felt triumphant when he killed himself. That's why he told Voldemort that someday he would realize that he had been bested by him, because Regulus believed that he would be a VA candidate in a next life. The Spirits must have told him how a VA candidate has to kill Dark Lords in order to garner more power to undergo the Vindico test."
"Yes, I think you're right," said Vagnarov calmly. He pierced him with his eyes, and said pensively, "And if your soul is truly following a fixed pattern, then the Spirits might know the reason for it, though they cannot be the ones influencing it. You should talk to them. Go to the Crypt and ask them-"
"I will not," spat Orion angrily, balling his hands into fists. "They've manipulated me enough times. I won't listen to anything they have to say. If I see them now I'll kill them, and I need them for a bit longer. They are the ones who have to tell me what I need to do with the Hallows, once I finally obtain the last one. Moreover, they never tell me anything. They always make me talk, and they merely guide our conversations with more questions, leading me to what they want me to discover. I won't play that game with them again. I don't need them for this. I'll get my answers, eventually – I always do."
"I understand," said Vagnarov sympathetically, before he heavily sighed. "Very well. I'll research the matter regarding patterns in reincarnations. Though, I'm almost certain that I will find nothing. Even the Guild believes that rebirths do not follow any patterns, my boy. But I'll look into it and I'll let you know if I find something pertinent."
"Thanks," muttered Orion.
Vagnarov curtly nodded, before he slowly went around his desk and reached Orion, towering over him. "Now, I think I should try to block this new awareness of yours. I cannot promise I'll succeed, but I'll do my best. Please stand up."
"Do whatever is needed to block the memories of my past lives, Vulcan," said Orion quietly, as he obeyed and stood in front of the old wizard.
"I will," whispered Vagnarov, instants before his eyes turned into all-black glowing pools, as he pressed his hands over Orion's head and fixedly bore his eyes into his. "Legilimens!"
The old wizard's wandless spell immediately took effect, and Orion felt as if his mind was being explored by a careful and gentle touch, prodding here and there, while his emerald gaze remained locked with his Headmaster's all-black, unblinking stare.
A faint frown spread over the aged features, and Vagnarov muttered in a distant voice, "I think I see something unusual… Ah… No, this has to be your connection to the Dark Lord… Um, I see… troublesome… yet you must know about this already… you've been keeping quite a secret to yourself… Ah, yes… there's something else…" His frown deepened. "Interesting… peculiar… it seems like a swirl of a tunnel into your mind… composed by Necromantic magic, no doubt about it… I'll try to… steel yourself, my boy, this won't be pleasant…"
Immediately, Orion clenched his jaw when he felt a piercing stab prodding the back of his mind, while he saw a glow of black light flowing from Vagnarov's hands, surrounding Orion's head. The pain increased and he saw beads of sweat tricklhad ing down the old wizard's forehead, as the man muttered spells under his breath. And abruptly, Orion's vision faded into darkness, before he felt images and feelings bubbling and spreading in his mind, as he distantly realized that Vagnarov had indeed found the connection between his soul and mind…
…He was tied to a wooden post, mobs of muggles yelling at him in fear, hatred, and frenzied anger… flames started blazing in the pyre he was tied to, the fire licking his small, bare feet, the pain agonizing as his flesh started to be scorched, while he mindlessly sobbed and screamed, frantically looking for his mother, knowing that the muggles must have already killed her… in the mob, among the cruelly fascinated faces, he saw the little muggle girl he had liked… the one he had wanted to impress by conjuring a small flower and giving it to her, before she had gazed at him in horror and ran away, screaming…
…He wasn't a small boy any longer… no, he was someone different… a teenager or older, yet powerful… his stance confident, his steps resolved, and his chest bristling with hatred… He reached the older man and gazed into his regal, handsome and benevolent features, hating the gleam of wisdom, nobility and superiority in the light hazel eyes… so unlike his own, yet the man was his father… He ignored everyone else, though he knew the crowds were restless and alert… he ignored his mother and his aunts, and tightly embraced his father… the man instantly tensed, yet he caressed the man's long locks of dark blond hair and he whispered warmly, "Father"… He felt the rejection coming from the man… He was being rejected again for being dark, ambitious, and ruthless, and his hatred became fierce and uncontrolled, swallowing any sorrow and hint of regret he might have felt… He should be the true King, not this pathetic man before him… but he was the King's bastard, not even worthy of being the Prince, in their opinion… He knew what they thought of him, and he hated all of them, with blazing fury… He tightened his embrace, almost crushing his father against him, and murmured "Father" again, affectionately, while he swiftly unsheathed his poisoned dagger and stabbed it into his father's stomach, repeatedly… It was chaos, they were being hunted by the mobs and warriors, yet he felt euphoric… he had done it, he had killed his unworthy father… His mother was running besides him, protecting him, yet he hated her as well… he could see in her gaunt face the pain she felt, the way she mourned his father's death... yes, she had loved his father but she had known that the man had to be killed… She didn't reproach him for murdering his father, she had known he would do it, but still, she mourned the death of the man she had twistedly loved… Pathetic, she was unworthy too, despite her power… And that hated bitch had escaped… his mother was supposed to have killed her, they both hated her… yet, she had escaped… he would find her and murder her soon, she couldn't escape them for long… but now, they had to flee, somewhere, anywhere…
…But then came pain… an arrow had speared his shoulder… the pain was agony… he frenziedly screamed… It was pure agony… Yet, he distantly realized that the agony was fresh… it was happening now, and he realized his throat ached… he was screaming…
And Orion kept screaming until it all faded back into blackness…
"Ennervate!"
Orion gasped an exhalation of breath, his eyes snapped open and he dizzily glanced around, confused, while his head throbbed painfully. He winced and gritted his teeth, and finally realized that he was lying on the floor of Vagnarov's office. Instantly, his gaze zeroed in on the old wizard. The man was slumped on an armchair, the aged face drained of color, his expression exhausted and pained, the eyes closed, and there were splats of blood on the wizard's lips and chin.
He instantly jumped to his feet, alarmed, though he had to rest a hand on the desk to steady himself, since his legs felt weak and his pounding head swirled with dizziness.
"Vulcan?" whispered Orion in a hoarse, haggard voice, while he gently shook the old wizard's shoulders.
Vagnarov slowly opened his eyes, and shot him a wan smirk. "I'm alright, my boy. Merely resting."
"I shouldn't have asked for your help," muttered Orion, eyeing him with deep concern. "You coughed up blood again. I knew you weren't well. I shouldn't have made you-"
"You didn't force me to do anything," interrupted Vagnarov calmly, as he shifted in his seat and straightened his shoulders. "And my health shouldn't concern you. It's as well as it could be expected for someone near Death's doorway." His smirk widened, and he added, "Death isn't something to be mourned, and I don't want you to mourn mine, when it comes."
Orion wanly smiled at him, forcing his cheeks' muscles into the carefree expression. "Alright."
"How do you feel?" asked Vagnarov, inspecting him closely.
Orion blinked, before he touched his forehead, and said with a hint of awe, "Light. I feel as if a heavy lid had been lifted from my mind." He stared at the old man, and gasped out cheerfully, "You succeeded! Thanks-"
"Don't thank me yet," interrupted Vagnarov curtly. "I couldn't sever the link the High One formed in your mind. It was a link between your soul and mind, I believe. Very strange. I never saw something like it. Nevertheless, I couldn't snap it. I merely blocked it."
"What does that mean for me?" said Orion troubled. "Will I still experience my past lives? Or-"
"You won't be assaulted by your past memories anymore," interjected Vagnarov gravely. "Not for a while, at least. Yet I can't ascertain how long my block will hold. Maybe for the rest of your life. Maybe not. I formed it as powerfully as I could, yet some influences could tear the block away. If you want it to hold, you must make sure that no Necromancer or Legilimens fiddles with it. Hopefully, the block will hold for many years to come."
"Well, that's good enough," said Orion happily, feeling deeply relieved and in a buoyant good mood. "Thanks, Vulcan. I knew you'd be able to help me."
Vagnarov waved a hand dismissively while he stood up with difficulty, and Orion lend him a supporting hand to steady the man in place, as he led the old wizard back into his ornate armchair.
Once the old wizard was settled back behind his desk, Orion eyed him with curiosity. "What did you use to form the block?"
"Mind magic and my Necromantic powers."
"You said Cadmus had formed a link between my mind and soul," said Orion eagerly. "Does that mean that you casted a spell to see my soul, in order to block the link?"
"No, due to my declining health I'm not strong enough to cast such spell," replied Vagnarov tiredly. "And I didn't need to see your soul to find the link. Legilimency was enough."
"Oh," grumbled Orion with disappointment.
He knew that the spell Necromancers used to see a soul inside a living wizard was a very powerful one, and magically draining, thus, that they didn't use it often. But he was curious about the state of his soul. And since he couldn't cast the spell on himself, and not even fully see his own soul with the use of the Resurrection Stone, he had hoped that Vagnarov would have seen his soul. He was curious to know if it was any different from a normal one, since he had taken some essence from Draco's soul.
"Speaking about links," said Vagnarov sternly, pointedly staring at him, "I found another link first."
Orion arched an eyebrow, and said nonchalantly, "Yeah, I heard your mutterings."
"You are a horcrux," stated Vagnarov curtly, piercing him with his eyes. "Voldemort's horcrux."
"I am," said Orion impassively. "And don't ask why I didn't tell you. I haven't told any Aux Atrum about it. Only my father, Grindelwald, and other two trustworthy wizards know it – Severus Snape and Remus Lupin, you must have heard about them. And Dumbledore knows it as well, but not because I told him. He figured it out himself. Though, obviously, the manipulative old coot hasn't revealed it to me."
"I understand quite a few things now," muttered Vagnarov, with a pensive frown on his face. "I understand how you knew about Igor Karkaroff's death. You came to me years ago, confiding to me that the Dark Lord had tortured and killed him, also divulging what Igor had said as his last words." His gaze snapped up to Orion. "You can see through Voldemort's eyes, can you? It's a side effect from being his horcrux. That's also how, in the past, you've known about Death Eater activities."
"Yes, I sometimes have flashes of visions about what he's doing," said Orion calmly. "Not lately, though, because I always have my Occlumency barriers raised at full-power." He pierced the old man with his eyes, and said sharply, "But you can't say a word about it, Vulcan. I don't want the Aux to know that I'm a horcrux. I didn't even tell Sebastien when he disclosed to me that the Spirits had told him and Komorov about Voldemort's horcruxes."
"I will tell no one," said Vagnarov firmly, gazing at him a stern gleam in his aged, black eyes. "But how are you planning on ridding yourself from the Dark Lord's piece of soul before you kill him?"
Orion plopped down on the armchair on the other side of the wizard's desk, and said crisply, "Easy. As I have told you repeatedly, I'm not planning on killing the Dark Lord. I have no personal reason for it, and only a personal reason would make me do it. Thus, I'm not planning on ridding myself from the piece of soul. Moreover, it can't be done. The only way to destroy the horcrux inside me is to kill me." He wryly smiled at the man. "Grindelwald theorizes that perhaps I could survive death because I'm a horcrux with Necromantic abilities. And also because I survived the Avada Kedavra Curse when I was a baby, since my dark magic protected me. Nevertheless, I don't know what the Killing Curse might do to me now – whether the piece of soul inside me would be destroyed and I would live, or if I would simply die along with it. Whatever the case, I'm obviously not eager to test it."
Vagnarov tiredly sighed, and said reluctantly, "Very well, my boy. I won't argue about your decisions any more. I'm sure you have enough of that from everyone else. You know what you're doing."
"I am," said Orion cheerfully.
"However," interjected Vagnarov gravely, piercing him with his dark eyes. "Don't believe that the Spirits don't know that you're Voldemort's horcrux. According to you, they have known about the horcruxes since the beginning. According to you, they ordered Slughorn to compel Voldemort when the Dark Lord was a young schoolboy. Therefore, the Spirits must have realized by now that you're one of the Dark Lord's horcruxes. Yet, they still expect you to fully kill him. Therefore, there must be a way for you to rid yourself from the piece of soul inside you, without dying."
Orion frowned at him. "Yes, Grindelwald said that the Spirits would eventually realize that I'm a horcrux. But he also said that they would be very angry."
"Indeed they would," said Vagnarov, smirking at him. "And I'm surprised that they haven't requested a meeting with you. The Spirits aren't omniscient and omnipotent, but they are astoundingly sharp and sly. They must know by now that you're a horcrux. But, on the other hand, you stated to them, quite firmly and angrily, that you were going to take an independent path from them to become the Vindico. Thus, I think they are leaving you alone for now, to see how you manage. And as we previously agreed, I told them, after receiving your letter, that you had succeeded in unblocking the Resurrection Stone from the Dark Lord's piece of soul, and that you bested the High One and resurrected your father. They were… quite satisfied, to put it mildly."
"Good," said Orion, smirking back at him. "I want them to crawl back to me, beginning me to hear them out. I will immensely enjoy it, before I finally kill them."
"Kill them?" inquired Vagnarov with an arched eyebrow. "I know that Valois told you that the Spirits-"
"Yeah, yeah," interrupted Orion, waving a hand dismissively. "That the Spirits want to make their grand appearance before the masses. Showing their existence and reveling all their work, before stating that a Vindico had at last risen. And the Spirits will do that, and thus show their support of me and hail me as the Dark's legendary prophet, once they're certain that I can survive the Vindico test. Meaning, once I have all the Hallows and once I've killed all current Dark Lords to absorb their powers. That's fine by me. It serves my purposes. And once I've killed Grindelwald and have the Elder Wand in my possession, I'll go see the Spirits so we can plan their magnificent spectacle before the masses." He deviously smirked at him. "After that -after I'm hailed as the Vindico Atrum by them, and after they tell me what the VA test is- I will kill them."
Vagnarov intently pierced him with his eyes. "So you'll spare one Dark Lord, Voldemort, and kill the other, Grindelwald. Moreover, you'll become a full-fledged Necromancer in order to obtain the power you don't want to gain by killing Voldemort. Am I correct?"
"Yes, precisely," replied Orion coolly. "It's a good plan, is it not?"
"It's neither good or bad – it's simply your plan, and all what matters is if it will work," said Vagnarov gravely, scrutinizing him. "And also, if you won't regret the consequences. I won't tell you again how you'll be changed after becoming a full-fledged Necromancer. You know that already."
"I do," said Orion nonchalantly. He eyed the old man closely, and asked with curiosity, "You're a very powerful dark wizard, Vulcan. Tell me, did you ever feel your dark magic spurring you further? Did you ever feel what I have pegged as the 'pull'?"
"Certainly," replied Vagnarov, arching an eyebrow. "All powerful dark wizards feel it. Furthermore, it was the reason why I went to the Guild, to train to become a full-fledged Necromancer."
Orion frowned at him. "But you left the Guild before completing your training. You mustn't have undergone their trials."
"Exactly," said Vagnarov impassively. "I didn't become a full-fledged Necromancer because I realized I didn't want it. And also, because my pull, as you call it, became muted. My dark magic seemed contently settled inside me after the training I underwent, even if I didn't finish it."
"The Guild's training abated your pull, satisfying it?" interjected Orion, his eyes widening. He leaned forward, and said excitedly, "So maybe the same will happen to me-"
"It won't," interrupted Vagnarov with a deep sigh. "I was never a VA candidate. You are. Your pull must, therefore, be stronger."
"Hmm, yeah, I suppose it is," muttered Orion, leaning back on his seat.
"Are you really committed to become the Vindico?"
Orion blinked at him, before he said with annoyance, "Of course. I thought I had already proved that, repeatedly. Even if I don't want to kill Voldemort."
"Is it because of the power you'll gain?" interjected Vagnarov, dismissing Orion's reply and inspecting him closely. "Don't think that I haven't sensed the changes in you. You covet power now, my boy. And that's always a very dangerous thing for dark wizards. Indeed, for light wizards as well. In the past, you didn't thirst for power-"
"Yes, I've changed," interrupted Orion with irritation. "I want to become more powerful than anyone else. But that doesn't mean that my reasons for wanting to become the Vindico have changed completely. They haven't. I still want to protect my friends and family. I still want to ensure that the war will be brief, with few casualties for our side. And I still want to make sure that the dark bloodlines will become purer and thus more powerful. That we won't breed with muggles and muggleborns, and that our dark magic won't dwindle because of it. I still want to help the Dark become stronger, politically and magically. I don't want the Dark Arts to be considered evil knowledge, and I don't want dark wizards to hide in their homes and in schools like this one in order to practice it. I don't want light wizards to keep prosecuting those who openly use and uphold the Dark Arts, in seemingly evil ways in the Light's opinion. I don't want Aurors to keep hunting us down. I want to destroy the stigma of evil that we, dark wizards, have. I want the Light to know about the consequences of mixing their lines with muggles and muggleborns. I want them to understand what Salazar Slytherin did and discovered. And I want Light and Dark magic to survive all future centuries of breeding." He locked his gaze with the old wizard's, and said sharply, "All of those desires haven't changed, and the means for it is for me to become the Vindico. Its importance is very present and clear to me. I don't hunger power for the sake of power. I hunger it due to all the consequential and necessary things I could do with it."
"Good," said Vagnarov curtly, his lips quirking upwards in small smile. "Keep all those reasons fresh in your mind, and never allow yourself to be corrupted by power. It happens to the best of us, Orion. And the consequences are never positive."
"I'll always remember, don't worry," said Orion coolly.
"Very well, now I think you should go to your common room," said Vagnarov, smirking while he stared at him pointedly. "The members of your Dark Army have been buzzing with gossip all this week. After your letters to Miss Titania Tenleyn and Miss Calypso Rosier, the news regarding how you resurrected your father has awed your DA. You'll find them very excited to see you again."
Orion grinned at him. "Perfect. I have to discuss some matters with them."
He shot the old wizard a last grateful smile, before he grasped his school bag, nodded at him in farewell, and eagerly left the office.
Orion soon discovered that his Headmaster had been right. The moment he hurled himself into the sixth years' common room, he found students of the different Orders congregated there; some gossiping with friends, others discussing their plans for Saturday, a few finishing late Friday-night homework to have their weekend free, and such. More importantly, there was small group bunched together, animatedly whispering among themselves. And he inspected that group from afar, before letting them know that he was there.
Titania, though graduated and an apprentice of the Dark Arts under Professor Romulus Rosier, was there, seated on a couch. Viktor Vlonski was spread along the couch, with his head on his girlfriend's lap, while Titania caressed his locks of blonde hair. To his surprise, Calypso was seated near Titania, deep in conversation with her. And apparently discussing very important matters, since Calypso glared with irritation at Viktor when the young wizard occasionally distracted Titania by trying to smuggle a hand under his girlfriend's shirt.
Scattered among them were the rest of the DA's Elite, even though some were fifth or seventh year students, not to mention from different Orders. Nevertheless, it seemed that the tightly-knit group had gathered all together in the sixth years' common room. Wenceslas, Artemisa and Kasimir were seated besides the fireplace, on a couch across from the one of occupied by Titania and Viktor. While Geodrof, Dravana, Alexios, Laiana and Hector were sitting on the floor, with their backs supported against either couches. All of them were participating in the conversation going on between Calypso and Titania. Moreover, to Orion's increasing surprise, Evander Fornax and Kara Kavsir were also with them, even though he had never mentioned to the couple anything about the DA group.
Stealthily, he approached them, while he saw other non-DA students occasionally turning their heads around to glance at him, surely surprised that he had dropped in a Friday night instead of a Saturday morning, as usual. Not far from them, Orion detected that the Elite must have casted silencing and anti-spying spells around them, since he couldn't hear anything. So he took some more steps and surreptitiously flicked his wand to momentarily halt the spells. Instantly, their voices reached his ears.
"It's just not fair," Viktor complained from his position on the couch, as Titania swatted his hand away from underneath her shirt. "If I can't paw all over my girlfriend on a Friday night, then what I am supposed to do? A wizard needs his entertainment and fun, and you are all a boring lot." He cheekily grinned at Titania. "Except you, luv."
Titania merely glanced down at him with irritated yet fond amusement, as Viktor tried once more to slip a hand under her clothes.
"You could get serious and join our discussion," hissed out Calypso, looking highly annoyed. "Instead of sexually harassing your girlfriend in public. There's something called decorum, Vic."
Viktor lifted his head from Titania's lap to stare at her, and snorted. "All you do is yap and yap about Orion. Yes, what he accomplished is mind-boggling and awesome but all your speculations are useless. And I don't see why you're suddenly back in our fold, wanting to plan our next steps. You've made yourself scarce during this year. You stopped attending our DA lessons. So you are in no position to voice your opinions regarding the DA. And you should wait for the man himself to come tomorrow morning-"
"The man himself is here," said Orion with amusement, as he finally stepped before them.
As if pulled by invisible strings, all their heads snapped up at the same time to stare at him.
"Orion!" cried Calypso excitedly, rushing to his side.
Abruptly, she halted a pace away from him, looking uneasy. And Orion confusedly frowned at her when she didn't immediately hug him, as he had expected. Granted, she hadn't hugged him in a very long time, nor allowed him to hug her, but he had expected that she would have been more openly friendly after the letters they had sent to each other.
"I'm so glad you're here," she gushed out, while she leaned forward to peck his cheek, still leaving a space between them and looking uncomfortable. "We have many things to tell you."
"What in Circe's name are you doing here?" said Geodrof gruffly, his massive body shifting on the floor to glance up at him. "Aren't you supposed to be in that pathetic school for bloodtraitors and muggle-lovers?"
"What does that matter," quipped in Calypso happily, instantly grabbing Orion's hand and pulling him down to a seat besides her. "It's obvious that he decided to come sooner." She shot Orion a smile, and added warmly, "And we've been dying to have you here. There are so many-"
"Yes, we have many things to tell him – you've already said that," interjected Artemisa in her faintly Spanish-accented voice, glancing at Calypso with irritation. She gazed back at him with her almond-shaped eyes, her plump lips curving into a dazzling, seductive smile, as she said, "But it is indeed good to have you earlier than expected, Orion."
He returned the smile and simply nodded at her, since he saw Calypso darkly scowling at the witch. Well, so Calypso and Artemisa still didn't get along. No surprise there. It was certainly not due to any jealously or envy from either part; both witches were very beautiful. It was simply that their personalities and manners clashed. Though it had been a while since he hadn't seen them snapping at each other.
Wenceslas pierced him with his sharp blue eyes, and swatted a lock of light blonde hair from his forehead, as he said, "Many things have been going on in the school-"
"Yeah," interrupted Viktor, straightening up from his position on Titania's lap. "Do you know that Loki Njord has left school?"
Orion raised an eyebrow, and instantly flicked his wand to fortify the silencing spells around them. "I did. I saw him earlier today. Though I wasn't aware that he had told you-"
"He didn't," scoffed Viktor. "The Headmaster told us." He frowned at him. "And you say that you saw him today? According to Headmaster Vagnarov, Loki became a Necromancer and he isn't coming back to school. I always said he was always a weird one; slouching around in his black cloak, covering every inch of his body, scowling and skipping classes. Though I didn't know he was so advanced in your Necromancy class-"
"He didn't become a Necromancer thanks to Vagnarov's class," interjected Orion. "He… well, you could say that Loki's father helped him become a full-fledged Necromancer. And you're right, he isn't coming back."
"Just great," groaned Viktor grumpily. "There's only three of us, sixth year Hydras, left now! With Lez dead long ago and Loki gone away-"
"Er…" said Orion hesitantly, glancing around the group. He gazed back at Viktor, and muttered quietly, "Lezander isn't dead."
"What?!" gasped out three voices at the same time. Viktor had instantly jumped to his feet, Evander was staring at him, perplexed, and Kara's delicate features wore an expression of hurt, while she pinned him with her light blue eyes.
The others, the Elite, seemed surprised but their reactions were mild, since they had never known Lezander well. They only fleetingly knew that he had been Lezander's boyfriend, before Lezander had supposedly died at the English Department of Mysteries.
Of course, there was no surprise reflected on Calypso's face, and Viktor's hazel eyes instantly narrowed at her, and he pointed a finger accusingly. "You knew, didn't you? How's this possible?!…You knew and didn't tell us, Calypso!" He rounded on Orion, and snapped angrily, "And you're the one who should have told us! Why did you lie to us? You let us believe that Lez had died in that Veil thing. I mourned him-"
"You mourned Lezander?" interrupted Calypso crisply.
"Of course I did!" bit out Viktor sharply, gesturing at himself, Orion, Calypso, Evander and Kara. "Lez was our best friend, one of us!"
"I'm not quite sure what to make of this," said Kara in clipped tones, piercing Orion and Calypso with her blue eyes. "But you should have told us that he was alive."
"It was Orion's right to decide whether to tell you or not," interjected Calypso coolly. "And I certainly wasn't going to divulge it before he did." She side-glanced at Orion, and continued, "Though I'm glad he finally did. Nevertheless, Orion didn't mislead you on purpose. We thought that Lezander had died-"
"Then why are we being told now that Lez is alive?" snapped Evander, fiercely scowling at Orion and Calypso. "You two told us that Lez had died when you went to the Department of Mysteries of the English Ministry of Magic. That Orion tried to save him by pulling him out from the Veil thing, but that he only pulled out Lez's dead body. The whole of Durmstrang thought that Lez had died, though they didn't know the details since you only told us the specifics. So do explain to us how, suddenly, Lezander is alive!"
"He was alive all along," said Orion quietly, gazing at the three of them. "But neither Calypso or I knew about it. I had pulled out his body, with his soul attached, yet his heartbeat was very faint and he wouldn't wake up. I took him to his parents and they were the ones who told me he had died." His jaw clenched, and he added sourly, "It didn't even cross my mind to doubt them. So when I told you that Lez had died, I truly believed it. It was months after that I discovered that he was alive when I visited his parents."
"So you did save him," muttered Kara under her breath, her eyes widening. "With your Necromantic powers, right? Just in the same way as you have resurrected your father-"
"Not quite," interrupted Orion, carding his fingers through his hair. "What I did with my father was planned in detail, yet back then, a year ago, I only saved Lezander out of sheer luck. Yes, I used my Necromantic powers to pull him out of the Veil, but I wasn't in control, and I did it unwittingly, not quite knowing what I was doing. Nevertheless, it worked. But I didn't find out until much later."
"Alright, but that doesn't excuse that you didn't tell us the instant you found out!" snapped Viktor sharply. "And why on earth isn't he here with us?! Why didn't he come back?"
"Lez didn't remember us," interjected Calypso briskly, glaring at the young wizard. "When Lezander saw Orion for the first and only time after the Department of Mysteries fiasco, Lez didn't remember his life. He only barely remembered Orion, and that was because he was staring right at him."
Orion nodded when the three of them piercingly gazed at him. "Calypso wasn't there but I told her about it. Lezander had been living in Zraven Citadel for a while, and I think he mostly remembered his life with his parents, but not his school years with us. But he did remember me – somewhat. But he was confused and puzzled… Lez had been…er…" He cleared his throat, and intently stared at them. "Well, Lez had been having vague dreams about me, so I guess that helped him remember me. But he certainly didn't remember much about you guys or Durmstrang."
"Fine," gritted out Viktor. "It's clear that it was an after-effect of being plunged into that Veil thing. But why didn't you bring back Lezander? He could have remembered if he saw us! And it's been over a year now, for Merlin's sake-"
"I didn't bring him," interrupted Orion in a steely tone of voice, "because he wasn't ready. I left him with his parents and told his mother to tell him everything about his life. Lezander is a vampire first and foremost, even if he's also a dark wizard, and he needed to be with his own people-"
"Bullshit!" bit out Viktor bristling, narrowing his hazel eyes at him. "You didn't want Lez back because you became the Dark Lord's spouse! What kind of a boyfriend are you that you left Lez there, without-"
"Don't you DARE blame Orion!" yelled Calypso angrily, furiously glaring at Viktor. "What kind of friend are YOU that you blame Orion for something that was out of his hands? Isn't it enough that Orion saved Lezander, that he grieved while thinking that Lez was dead, just to find out that those Zravens had lied to him!"
Viktor instantly rounded on her, as he said acidly, "I am Orion's friend, but also Lez's, and that's more than I can say about you! Don't spout to me about friendship when you haven't crossed words with Orion or any of us for months – when you constantly shy away from us! What excuse do you have?!"
"I have my reasons!" spat Calypso heatedly, glowering at him. "And you are not going to change subjects. Orion did what he thought was best. And when he saw Lezander, discovering that he was alive, Orion was about to marry the Dark Lord. So you can't expect Orion to have gone back to Lezander. They weren't a couple anymore-"
"I don't care two figs if Orion was or wasn't about to bond with the Dark Lord," snarled Viktor, darkly glaring at her. "I don't give a flying gnat about the Dark Lord. I care about my friend - Lez! And so should you. It's clear that Lez was an inconvenience for Orion, so he was simply left behind!"
Calypso immediately made a move to whip out her wand, her expression truly thunderous, and when Orion saw it, he quickly jumped between them, and said severely, "This is getting us nowhere – calm down, NOW!"
Titania instantly forced Viktor to take a seat, as Orion pulled down Calypso on a couch, besides him, while the rest were merely gazing at them, with slightly wide eyes or frowns on their faces.
"Look," said Orion quietly, staring at Viktor, Evander and Kara. "I didn't tell you because I wasn't ready. I wasn't ready to face Lezander either, because I wanted to marry Voldemort. Furthermore, I asked Lez's mother to keep him in the Citadel, and to stop Lez if he tried to contact me or see me. But I also knew that the Zravens wouldn't allow Lez to come back to Durmstrang. Lezander is being trained to take his father's place. The Zravens have always wanted this, and they grasped the opportunity to keep Lezander with them. Amongst other reasons, I think this is why they told me that Lez had died. Though, Mireilla, Lez's mother, did want to tell me the truth. Nevertheless, I'm telling you now that Lezander is alive because it's the proper time to do so." He eyed them closely, and added, "I'm going to see him during the summer. I'm going to stay at Zraven Citadel for a month or two."
"To solidify your allegiance with them, right?" said Titania, studying him with her chestnut eyes.
Orion mutely nodded.
"Gut, that's settled then," interjected Dravana curtly, sternly piercing the group with her deep, dark eyes. "Let's get back to more important business-"
"Not yet, Vana," snapped Viktor, narrowing his eyes at Orion. "I want to know if Lezander is coming back for seventh year. I want to know if I'm going to see him again!"
"I don't think he'll come back to Durmstrang," replied Orion calmly. "I hope he remembers everything by now, and I'm sure Mireilla has helped him with it, but Râzvan certainly won't let Lez come back into a wizarding school. Lezander is being groomed to take Râzvan's place, I already told you that." He deeply sighed. "But if you want to see him, then I guess I could arrange it after summer."
"Then do it," snarled Viktor angrily.
"Watch your tone," bit out Calypso, narrowing her large, black eyes at him. "You'll do well to remember that Orion is your leader!"
"Leader?!" hissed out Viktor bristling, before he pointed an accusing finger at Orion. "A leader doesn't lie to his followers! A leader doesn't keep secrets from them-"
Kasimir let out a loud snort, his sharp, aristocratic features twisting into a mocking expression. "Of course they do, Vlonski. And it's their prerogative to do so. Why should Orion disclose everything to you? I would have been disappointed if he did." He shot Orion a smirk, and drawled, "A leader manages information as he sees fit, and certainly not to content their followers' hearts or to appease their minds. And let's not forget how very powerful our leader has proven to be." His smirk widened as he gazed smugly at the group. "Needless to say, that Orion's power and abilities are all what should matter to us, and not his personal life or decisions." He side-glanced at Viktor, and said snidely, "So let's stop chatting about this friend of yours. If you want to see the vampire, then go to the damned Citadel and stop wasting our time. As Vana said, we have more important issues to discuss."
"Fine, I will," grumbled Viktor darkly, crossing his arms over his chest.
Evander heavily sighed, glancing at Orion as he murmured, "I would have liked to know, before now, that Lezander was alive. I would have liked to have written to him. But I understand if you had your reasons. It mustn't have been easy for you."
"It wasn't," said Orion coolly, "but you can write to him still, if you want. I know a bloodspell which will instantly send your letters into his hands. So you can simply give me your letters, and I'll make sure he gets them."
"That's a good idea," quipped in Kara, affectionately caressing Evander's hair. "We'll write to Lez, and we'll see if he remembers us. Perhaps he'll invite us to stay a few days in his Citadel."
Orion nodded encouragingly, though he highly doubted that either of them, or Viktor, would be invited to Zraven Citadel. The Zravens only allowed those with their blood to stay there. Nevertheless, trying with letters wouldn't hurt.
Then he glanced at the couple with a slight frown on his face, as he said as tactfully as possible, "Not that I'm not happy to see you, but what are you doing with … er… this lot?"
Evander arched an eyebrow, and said pointedly, "With the 'Elite', you mean?" He scowled at him, looking highly miffed. "You should have told us about this Dark Army of yours from the start. Why wasn't Kara and I invited to form part of it? Why were we the only ones, from our group of friends, to be excluded?"
"You and Kara are engaged," said Orion firmly. "You're going to get married as soon as you graduate next year. Therefore, I didn't want you to participate in things which might be dangerous for either of you. I never doubted your skills, but-"
"I see," interrupted Kara softly, shooting at him a warm smile. "I thank you for the concern and consideration, but it wasn't necessary. You know that we want to be involved in the war."
"You never did," said Orion pointedly.
Kara's smile grew, her light blue eyes lovingly gleaming as she side-glanced at Evander. "I do now. We both decided it was best to be involved rather than to stand on the sidelines and probably get murdered because we remained neutral."
"That's right," interjected Evander, nodding his head while he grasped Kara's hand in his. "Calypso told us about the DA and we discussed the matter between us and finally decided that we want to be part of it – of your Elite."
Orion threw Calypso a withering glance, and she instantly said hurriedly, looking troubled, "You don't understand, Orion. I know you wanted Evander and Kara out of it, but becoming part of the Elite is their best option." She pierced him with her eyes, and said gravely, "The Carrows came here, to Durmstrang, two days ago."
"Creepy, deranged pair of twins," muttered Viktor under his breath. "The witch even more unsettlingly perturbed that the wizard… with that sadistic, twisted, little smile of hers… one look at her and I almost ran screaming in the opposite direction…"
Orion stared at them, stunned. "The Carrows - here? Whatever for?"
"Yes, Alecto and Amycus Carrow," rushed out Calypso, her expression distressed. "I heard from my father that they 'asked' the Headmaster to hold a gathering here – a meeting to recruit followers for the Dark Lord. Headmaster Vagnarov couldn't refuse, because he can't openly say that he doesn't support the Dark Lord. Therefore, two days ago, all the students were congregated in the Great Hall, and the Carrows gave a speech about the importance of becoming a Death Eater – the honor to fight for the Dark Lord, the prestige of being one of his followers." She bit her lip, and finally blurted out, "Many students agreed to become Death Eaters soon - most of the students in sixth and seventh year, except those who are in the DA. Gustav Orloff was the first one to agree, and he was named by the Carrows to be the Dark Lord's liaison in Durmstrang. Stupid fool that he is, Orloff has taken it seriously, gloating and boasting about it, though he does his work and convinces others."
"Orloff?" bit out Orion, his eyes narrowing before he side-glanced at Titania and Kara. "The same who demanded that I had to be expelled from Durmstrang after it was made public that I was Harry Potter? The one you had to threaten with detention, Titania? Your Chimera classmate, Kara?"
"Yes, that's the one," replied Titania with a hard glint in her eyes, while Kara nodded at him.
"That's not all," interjected Calypso worriedly, intently gazing at him as if to gauge his reaction. "The instant the Carrows left, I wrote to Draco. I wanted to discover is something similar had happened in Hogwarts."
Orion waved a hand dismissively. "It didn't."
"It did," said Calypso firmly. "The Slytherins were told to gather Ravenclaws who were known for their Dark sympathies and connections, and both Houses, from fifth year upwards, went into the Forbidden Forest, two nights ago. There, some Death Eaters were waiting, and a meeting was held. Many Slytherins and Ravenclaws were recruited, though I don't know when they will be marked."
"How's this possible?" gasped out Orion, staring at her with slightly wide eyes, alarmed. "I never heard a word about this. Draco didn't tell me, and neither did Severus!"
"They couldn't," interjected Calypso quickly, "All of them were bounded by secrecy, even my father. Luckily, well…" She stared at him pointedly, and said vaguely, "Luckily my father has other loyalties solidified by vows which allowed him to circumvent the secrecy binding. And luckily, Snape helped Draco to write back to me with the truth. Draco wrote that he couldn't have done it without Snape's assistance. But they both knew that I would tell you, so it served their purposes."
"I can't believe it – and this happened two days ago… I just came back from seeing him!" snarled Orion furiously, feeling as if his blood was bubbling with rage, as all the pieces clicked together. "That conniving bastard planned it from the start – he was never going to give me chance! No matter what I did or said, he had already decided to break it between us! Oh, I didn't answer his summons for a week, but he could have waited to see me before recruiting in Slytherin, and before recruiting in my own bloody school – my turf!"
"What are you talking about?" said Alexios in his soft voice, though his expression was perplexed.
Orion ignored the question, and demanded brusquely, "Who has been recruited, Calypso?"
"Well…" she said hesitantly, before she clenched her jaw and said sternly, "From the people we know in Slytherin, Pansy Parkinson, Millicent Bullstrode, Theodore Nott, Vincent Crabbe, and Gregory Goyle. But it's anyone guess when the Dark Lord will mark them. Blaise Zabini and Daphne Greengrass want to remain neutral, but I'm not sure how they're going to accomplish it. Furthermore, from those who graduated, I've heard from my father that Marcus Flint and Adrian Pucey have already received the Dark Mark. The Dark Lord is certainly heavily recruiting, getting ready for when the war truly erupts."
"And Gustav Orloff," bit out Orion angrily, "is making sure that plenty Durmstrang students will agree to receive the Dark Mark."
"It's not only a matter of agreeing," interjected Viktor, his previous anger towards Orion having seemingly faded away. "Many of us have been pressured by our parents to take the Dark Mark. You know that my father isn't a Death Eater, but he's a supporter of the Dark Lord."
"Yes, Venerian Vlonski," said Orion with a sharp nod. "I remember him."
"My father has written to me as well," said Evander, grasping tighter his girlfriend's hand. "And Kara's too. That's why we wanted to find an alternative solution to taking the Dark Mark. That's why Calypso told us about the DA, and we decided to become part of it."
"Your fathers…" muttered Orion, listing them out loud. "Yes, Xander Fornax and Konstantin Kavsir… I remember them from the winter season ball which was held in your Manor, Evander…"
Kara nodded, and she piped in, "A Death Eater also visited my cousin, wanting to recruit him. Remember my cousin, Viktor Krum?"
"Krum, dear Merlin, yes, of course I remember him," said Orion surprised. "He wanted to be Durmstrang's champion in the Triwizard Tournament. And he was a very good sport when the Goblet of Fire selected me instead. We formed a tentative friendship, but it's been ages since I've written to him. He graduated from Durmstrang over two years ago. What has he been doing?"
"He's the Seeker of Bulgaria's National Quidditch Team, as before. And he's also currently the star Seeker of the Montrose Magpies – the most successful team in history and twice European Champions," replied Kara dismissively. "But that's not my point. The Death Eater who approached him was very insistent – they want Viktor. My cousin is not particularly astounding in his magical prowess, so I think they want him for his fame. A sort of Death Eater poster boy."
"Did he agree?"
Kara delicately snorted. "Merlin, no. That line of my family, the Krums, have always been covert muggle-lovers and Light sympathizers." Her brow slightly wrinkled with a hint of worry. "Though I'm not sure what Viktor plans on doing. The Death Eaters will keep insisting and he'll keep refusing, and Viktor will be killed soon enough if he persists-"
"Krum, a dark wizard and famed international Seeker, a bloodtraitor," interjected Geodrof gruffly. "I don't know what our wizarding world is coming to."
"It's quite obvious what Krum'll do," interjected Calypso scathingly, utterly ignoring Geodrof's deep musings. "We saw him drooling after that upstart muggleborn, remember Orion? I still don't know what Krum saw in that Granger chit." She pointedly side-glanced at Orion. "As a matter of fact, I only accept that you've become 'friends' with her because I know that you're only trying to keep your cover as the Light's Savior. But it's patently obvious that Krum will end up going to Dumbledore to become a member of the Order of the Phoenix. Given Krum's Light-oriented ideals, it's the only alternative for him since the Death Eaters will keep pressuring him."
Wenceslas waved a hand impatiently. "Well, there's nothing we can do about that. And we don't want someone like Krum in our midst, so let's get to the point."
"Right," said Calypso firmly, piercing Orion with a worried gaze. "As I was explaining, many other DA members are in the same situation as Kara and Evander. Celeste, the Gorgon, is the daughter of Theobald Kormegov. And Crispin, the seventh year Chimera, is the son of Arthemius Arlov. And Algernon Wilkes' nephew is also in the DA – Wilhelm, the fifth year Hydra. And there are countless of other students, member or non-members of the DA, who have one parent, uncle, or relative who's a Death Eater or a political and financial supporter of the Dark Lord. And everyone is being forced to decide soon whether to take the Dark Mark or deal with the consequences. But we've been holding DA meetings this past two days, and all of DA members chose to remain with you. Not even one defected! You're abilities are already very well-known in the DA, and you have their respect and confidence." She shot him a sly smile, and said conspiratorially, "Not to mention that Titania and I let it slip that you had killed a Dementor and resurrected your father. That certainly made them respect you even more. You should have seen their faces – they were flabbergasted, awed, and practically couldn't string two words together! They kept babbling about it!"
"Good," said Orion sharply, remembering the cause of his blazing fury. "But that's not enough – Damn him!"
"Do I assume correctly by suspecting that you're damning the Dark Lord?" inquired Laiana in her melodic voice, piercing him with her pale green gaze.
"You assume correctly," replied Orion dryly, his emerald eyes flashing with anger.
Kamisir arched an eyebrow, and drawled flippantly, "Trouble in paradise for our Leader?"
"More than that," gritted out Orion, tightly clenching the arm of the couch he was seated on. He glanced at all of them, and said sharply, "Okay, I was going to tell you anyway, though I didn't expect that it would be today. I wanted to wait until tomorrow… but well, what's the point of dallying any longer… I've parted ways with the Dark Lord, just about an hour ago."
Many of their eyes slightly widened, a few paled, and others intently gazed at him, evidently thinking fast about the consequences, while Calypso gasped and Kara stared at him in dismay.
"Parted ways with the Dark Lord…" mumbled Calypso under her breath, gazing at him, aghast. "What do you mean by that?"
Orion scoffed, and said tartly, "It's evident, isn't it? The Dark Lord and I quarreled, things were said and done, and he broke it off with me."
"How can he break it off with you?" demanded Kara fiercely, her light blue eyes blazing in indignation and anger, in a show of temper that startled Orion, since her fiery nature had long been subdued by Evander's tender and warm love for her. "You're married to him – by a magical bond!"
"Not for long," said Orion dryly. "He told me he would sever the magical bond-"
"He can't!" blurted out Calypso, repeatedly shaking her head. "A magical bond like the one you have with him is not easily broken. And I don't believe he would do it. Why? No! I don't understand-"
Orion scoffed, and said crisply, "He can do it, and he will. Remember that I once thought about the way it could be done? Well, he has the same plan in mind. I'm sure he'll soon contact the five binders we used for the bonding ceremony, and you were one of them. So expect to be contacted soon-"
"I will refuse!" bit out Calypso, her expression thunderous. "I will not take part in the breaking of your marital bond with him."
"You will obey and do as he asks!" snapped Orion sharply. "He wants to be free of me and he'll bloody have it!"
Calypso stared at him with wide eyes, stunned and confused. "I don't understand, Orion. You want him to break your marital bond? Why – what happened between you? You argued? Then fix matters with him!"
"Fix matters?" said Orion bristling. He gazed at her, and said acidly, "He doesn't want to fix anything. He has been recruiting behind my back since two days ago, in my own bloody school - Durmstrang is mine, not his! Durmstrang is my home, my school, my turf, and my people. He can keep Hogwarts if he likes, but he shouldn't have messed with Durmstrang and he bloody well knows it. Regardless, he sent the Carrows here, before I even saw him!"
He let out a mirthless, sharp chuckle, and added briskly, "And yes, we argued, just an hour ago. Amongst other things because the Dementors attacked him after last weekend, since I was his spouse and I had killed the Dementors' leader. The Dementors broke their allegiance with him and attacked him in revenge, but he came out of it fine! Nevertheless, there were other issues between us, and I agreed when he said that he would sever our magical bond. So you will bloody do it, Calypso! There's no way to fix anything with Voldemort. He was already recruiting without telling me, before he gave me a chance to explain matters. I didn't answer his summons during the whole week, but he should have waited to see me before sending his minions to recruit in my school! He knows I want my own fellow students to become my supporters, and he acted beforehand, to steal from me those who should be my supporters and not his. He has Hogwarts and I have Durmstrang, that deal between us was implicit! No, there's no going back, and from now on I will consider myself unattached and single. And he'll soon break the bonding between us. I know him well enough to be certain that even if his words were hasty or said in anger, he won't retract them and change his decision. He would only lose face if he did so, and that's something that Voldemort would never do. No, we've absolutely parted ways. Now, I'm just his ally, independent from him, and that suits me just fine!"
He firmly clamped his mouth shut after his angry tirade, and gazed at his Elite. Most were staring at him with wide eyes, though some others were nodding at him, showing a modicum of support and agreement.
"Well, I -for one- am glad to know that you won't be the Dark Lord's spouse anymore," said Kasimir, deviously smirking at him. "You don't need that title any longer, Orion. You've already formed your base of followers, and we're over fifty in the DA alone. Moreover, the DA already respects you, and looks up to you as their leader. Being the Dark Lord's spouse gave you an extra benefit before, but not any longer. Those who don't want to become Death Eaters wouldn't flock to you if you were still the Dark Lord's spouse, do you see?" His smirk widened slyly. "So I dare say that this is a gift sent from the Fates."
"I agree," grunted Geodrof in his characteristical terseness.
"I'm not so sure about these benefits you speak of, Kas," said Alexios softly, his expression one of serene pensiveness. "Oh, I see the upside of this, but Orion will still have to prove himself in some other way." He shot Orion a warm, placid smile. "Not to us, but to the rest of the DA. One thing if for them to gossip about how you disposed of a Dementor and resurrected a Kissed wizard - gossips spurred thanks to Titania's and Calypso's 'slip' of the tongue. But another thing is for them to have direct proof that you've become even more powerful. They should see your abilities for themselves. They should have further proof that you're a wizard powerful enough to be followed by them. A wizard who can lead them, and protect them in battle. And a wizard who can, most importantly, stand up to the Dark Lord. If not, they would fear to refuse the Dark Mark."
"Xios is right," interjected Artemisa, her lips quirking into a wickedly sensuous and cunning curve, making her dimples stand out. "None of the DA members have defected your side, but just two days have passed since those Carrows left, and many could change their minds. Most of them are pressured by their own parents or relatives. They need to know that you're not only a viable alternative, but that you're the strongest one – the best choice."
"Exactly," said Hector sharply, piercing Orion with his dark blue eyes. "And you don't only have to give the DA some solid proof soon, but also to the rest of students. To those who aren't in Gustav Orloff's grasp. To those who are still undecided."
"Ja, we need more members," said Dravana in her heavily accented voice, gazing at him with her deep, black eyes. "As you said, Durmstrang is your turf, Orion. It's your home. It's the home of all of us. And the Dark Lord certainly didn't attend this school. He attended Hogwarts, as you once vaguely revealed to us. And school loyalty is something that everyone in Durmstrang believes in. Our esteemed Lord Grindelwald himself garnered most of his followers from here, and so must you. We are the only school of the world exclusively oriented to the Dark Arts, and you must exploit this which unites us."
Orion widely smirked at them, feeling mighty proud of them, while a warm sentiment wrapped around his chest – an uplifting and powerful feeling caused by their show of staunch, steadfast support. And he glanced at the only two members of his Elite who had remained pensively silent. "Wen? Tita?"
Wenceslas' light blue gaze locked with his, and he said coolly, "Yes, but the question is how will you do it? It's clear that we need to expand the DA, that you need more followers now that you're an independent figure from the Dark Lord. You need your own large army of followers. You'll be considered as the second leader of the Dark, but you have to show that you're greater than the Dark Lord himself. You could gather students and duel with someone, I guess. Perhaps with Master Rosier, since he's the Dark Arts professor. Thus, you can expose your abilities to the whole student body. But… I don't know, it doesn't seem enough. You need something more spectacular, something more awe-inspiring."
"Er, well, you could ask Them," said Titania vaguely, her frown wrinkling as she tried to voice her opinion without disclosing too much, while she attempted to circumvent her Aux Atrum vow of secrecy. "Perhaps They would reveal themselves to the students, if you asked."
Orion grimaced, her obvious allusion to the Spirits not escaping him. He shook his head, and said dryly, "No, I will not ask them for any favors. I don't need Them. And I'm sure they'll refuse. They're waiting to do that much later, after -and if- I succeed in a couple of things."
Gratefully, he saw that no one of the Elite was remotely fazed by his cryptic dialogue. Obviously, Calypso knew exactly what they were speaking about, but she was the only one. Evander and Kara, new to Elite dynamics, looked confused, trying to make sense of the conversation. But the others had become used to his seemingly nonsensical conversations with Titania, and they no longer curiously demanded to know what it was all about. They simply accepted that Titania and he shared some secret, and that someday he would disclose it to them.
"You could scare Orloff," said Viktor, his hazel eyes gleaming with wicked eagerness. "You know, intimidate him, curse him until he's an unrecognizable lump of blood and flesh. I loathe that boasting little shit. Duel him and land him on the infirmary for several months, and he won't be able to recruit anyone for Death Eater ranks." He roguishly grinned at him. "Then, the Dark Lord will kill Orloff for failing, and we have one less problem in our hands and you would have dueled someone and openly showed your abilities."
Calypso scoffed, and said with an impatient roll of her eyes, "Gustav is a mediocre duelist, and if Orion bested him it would hardly prove anything. And the Dark Lord will merely send the Carrows again, so that they can appoint some other student as their liaison. How's your plan any good? Quite frankly, it's utterly brainless."
"Well, I don't see you suggesting anything useful," snapped Viktor, darkly glaring at her. "And I don't see why you're here either – you left the DA!"
"If Calypso wants to be with us and plot, she will," said Orion in a commanding, steely tone of voice.
At that, Calypso shot Viktor a superior smirk, which was responded by a low grumble. But in the end, Viktor merely scowled at her, his irritation obvious but mute.
"I already know how to 'prove' myself," said Orion at last, widely shooting them a sly and confident smirk. "I want all of you to contact those students who are undecided, those who haven't gone to Orloff. And with supreme surreptitiousness, I want you to gather those students and the DA, and take them to the Dark Arts classroom. It's the most spacey room, and most importantly, it's shaped like a circular amphitheater. Everyone will be able to see perfectly while seated. And you'll do this tonight."
Kara gazed at him, intrigued. "Are you going to duel several students at once? Or are you going to ask Master Rosier and some other professor to duel against you?"
"Neither of those things," said Orion, smiling deviously at them. "I'm going to show all of them what you guys suggested, that I'm greater than the Dark Lord. I will show them a memory, and I'll use a spell which will make it unravel as if it was a muggle movie being screened."
"A what?" said Geodrof gruffly, scrunching his broad nose in disgust. "I don't see how anything unraveling as something remotely muggle can be useful."
Orion waved a hand dismissively. "It will, you'll see."
"What memory are you going to show them?" said Calypso, frowning at him.
"The one in which I tortured Voldemort with my dark magic until he lost consciousness," replied Orion, widely smirking. "It will be edited, of course, but I will show that part, and I will show how a Death Eater addressed me as 'My Lord Black'. That ought to convince the students. Furthermore, I'll show parts of how I confronted the Dementor and how I resurrected my father. They want proof that I'm someone powerful enough to be followed instead of the Dark Lord, then they'll have it."
"You tortured the Dark Lord until he lost unconsciousness?" breathed out Artemisa awed, before her olive-tanned, beautiful face broke into a beaming, proud smile. "That will do the trick, I dare say."
The others reacted much in the same way, and Orion could almost see their respect for him speedily rising a bunch of more notches. And he saw a hint of zealousness sparkling in Wenceslas' sharp blue eyes, in Dravana's deep black ones, and in Kasimir's dark blue gaze, accompanied by an expression of smug contentment and eagerness in the others' faces. Though, in Evander and Kara it was mild, since they were new to the group. But in Calypso, the lack of excitement was evident.
"When did this happen?" interjected Calypso worriedly and troubled, her frown having deepened. "For Circe's sake, Orion, that's obviously the reason why the Dark Lord wants to break your magical marital bond. You have to-"
"It happened tonight, before I came to Durmstrang. But I won't fix matters with him," interrupted Orion coldly. "Don't insist on it further. You know that he sent the Carrows here even before I saw him tonight. He knew we would fight and argue, and he had already decided that he was fed up with me."
"That doesn't matter," said Calypso sharply, narrowing her eyes at him. "You want him. You always have. So fight to keep him! You love him-"
"I love no one!" spat Orion heatedly. "Stop trying to make me change my mind. Breaking our marital union was a decision reached by both of us."
"You lie," snapped Calypso briskly. "You didn't want it to happen, and you do love him-"
"Oh, spare us the fluffiness," interrupted Artemisa, glaring at her with irritation. "If Orion says he doesn't want to be with the Dark Lord any longer, then that's it. 'Love' has nothing to do with it. Orion has to think strategically, and certainly not be ruled by his emotions. And becoming an independent leader of the Dark was something that he would eventually need to do." She pierced Orion with her almond-shaped eyes, while she flipped a curtain of glossy chestnut hair away from her shoulder. "That was your deal with us since the beginning. And we follow you due to it. If we wanted to follow someone who was merely the Dark Lord's spouse, then we would have become Death Eaters instead."
"True," piped in Alexios calmly, in his soft, serene voice. "This is the next step for us. And we need to proceed further if we want to be the ones with power and influence during and after the war. You're our Leader and you're stepping up, just as we expected of you."
"That's all very fine," interjected Viktor, pinning Orion with hazel eyes void from their usual mischievous glint. "But I'm wary about the consequences of showing the students the memory in which you tortured the Dark Lord. News of this will reach his ears and he'll retaliate, Orion. I fear what he'll do to you in retribution."
"He'll never find out," said Orion, smirking at them when they voiced similar worries. "I was already planning on casting an enforced secrecy vow on everyone who attends the gathering. By merely attending, they will implicitly commit to the vow. And not even Merlin himself will be able to break such spell. Thus, no one will say a word about what they'll see, and nothing will be pried from their minds if someone attempted it."
"What spell is this?" said Calypso, puzzled and highly curious. "I've never heard of a spell which enforces a secrecy vow, even if the victim unknowingly agrees to it."
"It's an arcane old spell," replied Orion dismissively, "which ran out of fashion a few centuries back… er - I found it in an old book, in Black Manor's library."
Calypso frowned, unconvinced, but Orion merely gazed at all of them, and said with deep satisfaction, "So, we have work to do. Find the students and bring them to the Dark Arts classroom. We'll have the first gathering today – in an hour and a half, right at the stroke of midnight. I also want them gathered tomorrow and Sunday night, to further explain what's the DA, what they'll get from it if they join us, and what our plans are in general. Come on, people, we're going to have a busy weekend. Calypso, Titania, stay back with me, we have much to plan for this first gathering."
Two weeks had passed by, and the season neared to the start of June, yet Orion hadn't heard a word from Voldemort, and his Black Heir ring had never burned again. As much as he was tempted to lower his Occlumency barriers to catch a glimpse of what the wizard was doing, he didn't because there was a slight chance that Voldemort could also see what he was up to. Therefore, he assuaged his sour mood and curiosity by keeping himself busy.
The three gatherings with undecided Durmstrang students and DA members had gone superbly. As he had planned, he had showed them the memory of himself torturing the Dark Lord until the wizard lost unconsciousness, of Rabastan Lestrange fearfully and respectfully calling him 'My Lord Black', of him manipulating Cadmus into going through the Necromancer's Gate, and of resurrecting his father. Of course, he had clipped the memories so that nothing secretively important was shown, and he had even slightly modified the one about Voldemort and Rabastan, to show the younger Lestrange and himself as clothed. For Voldemort it hadn't been necessary, because the wizard had never divested himself from his trousers. And when Orion remembered that the wizard had merely pulled his zipper down to take him, he inwardly and angrily damned the man. But that was as far as he allowed himself to think about Voldemort during the gathering he had held with the students.
After his audience had gasped, and broken into awed and animated whispers and murmurs, they had finally expressed their frenzied agitation by firing at him numerous questions, which he had calmly replied. Moreover, Titania had brought to the meeting several Durmstrang graduates who were coursing their apprenticeships at the school. And it was one of them who had suspiciously doubted the veracity of the memory shown. Not concerned by it, Orion had allowed the older wizard to cast a spell to discern if the memory had been modified. And subsequently, the 'clothing' he had made to cover Rabastan and himself had glowed red in the screened memory. Eyebrows had been raised and snickers had resounded throughout the room, yet no one dared to ask about it, certainly due to the coldly lethal expression Orion had favored them with.
All in all, the three gatherings had produced excellent results. And the DA, once a group of fifty, had expanded to have over ninety members. Orion didn't know half of them, but he had tasked his Elite to work with them in squad-like units during the weeks when he was at Hogwarts, so that the new members would speedily learn spells and curses already mastered by the older members. Therefore, the Elite taught the new DA's lessons during the weeks, and he took over during his weekends at Durmstrang, making the DA practice in simulated battles. He knew it would take a while for the new DA members to catch up with the older members, who were more advanced, but the important matter was that his Elite would work on that on a daily basis and that it would be accomplished.
Furthermore, Calypso was once more with them, but only in a schemer-capacity since she refused to participate in the DA's lessons and only stayed up late at night to plot with Orion. He had been angry, and then hurt, that she didn't want to fully reintegrate in the DA. But he hadn't pressed her, nor had he demanded to know what was still obviously troubling her.
Nevertheless, despite how everything was perfectly working out with the DA, Orion's mood was shifty. Sometimes, he felt triumphant and mightily satisfied, while he observed his Dark Army fiercely and dexterously fighting in simulated battlesh. But other times, his mood was sour, short-tempered and occasionally dejected, particularly when he was at Hogwarts. Often - now that he was no longer being assaulted by his past lives' memories- he reviewed the visions he saw during his nightly dreams, feeling troubled. The visions hadn't changed, and they still showed Draco being tortured and him protectively cradling a baby girl in his arms, feeling deeply grieved and sorrowful. Of course, by now, the visions about being the Vindico didn't trouble him any longer, but the one about his daughter did.
He didn't know what it meant, but he was almost certain that it would happen. It had already been proved to him that his visions had a way of really happening, even if with unexpected twists. And he worriedly wondered what the one of his daughter was about, and more importantly how and when he would have a daughter. His marriage to the Dark Lord had for all purposes ended, even if the magical bond hadn't been severed yet. Thus, it either meant that he became pregnant with Voldemort's bastard daughter, or that she was his daughter from another wizard. Yet the wisps of silky black hair on her little head could only mean that she was his daughter with Voldemort… or Lezander…
And he didn't quite know what to feel about it, other than troubled uncertainty. Furthermore, in the visions, he looked young, just as he was now, so everything pointed towards that he would become pregnant soon, if he wasn't already. But neither of those circunstances was possible, because he had never taken any potions to magically modify his insides in order to be able to carry a baby. He would know, even if someone tried to slip the potion in his drink, since the effects of it were agonizingly painful… Yes, the whole vision about his daughter perplexed and worried him. Even more so due to the grief he felt, while cradling her with unconditional love. But he had no idea how it could possibly come to happen.
Thus, he was usually in a bleak mood during his Hogwarts weeks, often staring and touching the wedding ring around his finger - the Slytherin heirloom that only Voldemort and he could see. Voldemort had its match, also with two snakes coiled around each other, one with ruby eyes the other with emeralds for eyes. And Orion felt a piercing sense of lost whenever he stared at it, knowing that Voldemort would demand the ring back once the wizard broke the magical marital bond between them. Until then, Voldemort couldn't demand the ring which contained one of the wizard's pieces of soul, because the magical bond itself made the ring irremovable. But he knew Voldemort would want it, a horcrux, back. And Orion would comply, since he had no wish to make Voldemort suspect that he was a threat to the wizard's horcruxes – he wasn't. As much as he fleetingly hated Voldemorts nowadays, he had no true reason to want him dead. He would never do it out of mere spite.
Due to the contrasting emotions of feeling smugly and proudly triumphant with his DA and then low-spirited whilst being at Hogwarts, Orion had a very volatile temper which even matched his father's. He still dropped by Potter Manor whenever he could, and he had occasionally found Sirius in a depressed state, just to change radically in the next second to become cheerful, mischievous and carefree. Orion thought it was the wizard's own way of coping with what had happened to him, so he merely lent warm, affectionate support, without forcing Sirius to discuss matters with him. Nevertheless, he was glad to see that Grindelwald was working miracles with the wizard. Oh, Sirius hadn't become a reformed dark wizard convinced about the importance of blood purity, but the wizard did practice dark curses without complaining and whining so much as before.
But, yes, regarding mood shifts, Orion was aware that he wasn't doing much better than his resurrected father, who had the valid excuse of having been Kissed and trapped inside a Dementor for three years. Orion's volatile temper had even escaped the tight control he had over himself, and he had finally engaged in a long-desired fistfight with Ron. Obviously, he had ended up pummeling the obnoxiously annoying Weasel to a pulp. Thanks to the Zraven blood coursing in his veins, he was only surpassed by Lezander and vampires in general in physical strength -though he rarely resorted to it. Though Voldemort surpassed him as well in that aspect, because Merlin knew how many rituals the wizard had used to fortify his body. Regardless, venting his aggressive anger and crisp mood on Ron had been satisfying, especially when a resounding 'crack' had issued when he had broken the boy's nose with a punch, just before Snape had ripped them apart, nastily smirking while deducing one hundred points from Gryffindor House. Hermione hadn't taken that quietly, and to her indignant dismay, she had simply garnered a further fifty-point deduction instead of a fairly based revaluation of circumstances. Her deluded bubble of justice still persevered, and she had yet to understand that fairness didn't mix with Snapishness.
Nevertheless, there were two things which had the ability to uplift his mood, no matter what. One of them was that Draco was doing very well with his task of fixing the vanishing cabinet. With the use of the two-way mirrors, they occasionally chatted with each other, and Orion could then intently inspect him day after day, having visible proof that his friend was gaining back his usual healthy appearance, along with his arrogant and confident swagger – which Orion had honestly missed. Moreover, Draco would soon finish fixing the cabinet. The young wizard estimated that he would have worked as hard as he could on it in about two weeks. Then, Draco would take his last measure: to finally drink the Felix Felicis potion to work on the cabinet one last final time. And under the effects of the potion, Draco would at last conclude his work. For Orion, that meant that Dumbledore's hour was approaching, and he couldn't feel any more happily eager at the perspective.
The other occurrence which brightened his days was a custom adopted by his Elite, and subsequently copied by the rest of his DA. After the first 'mega-gathering', as Viktor had pegged it, where Orion had showed them how he had tortured Voldemort, his Elite had started addressing him as 'My Lord Black'. In the beginning, it was done amidst amused sniggers which were their way of mocking Rabastan's reaction to a momentarily felled Lord Voldemort. But then, the Elite slyly called him 'My Lord Black' in a deeply reverent and respectful tone of voice whenever the rest of the DA was present. And from then onwards, the DA had learned from them and copied the Elite's mode of address towards him. In no time, the tone of deep respect rang true.
And it even went beyond his own group of followers, since during Potions lessons at Hogwarts, with Rodolphus Lestrange impersonating Horace Slughorn, he had become aware of the scrutinizing glances that the Death Eater surreptitiously shot him. There was always a hint of cautiousness, sly musing, and grave reevaluation in the wizard's polyjuiced eyes. Thus, Orion knew that Rabastan had already spread, among Death Eater ranks, the gossip of how he had rendered unconscious the Dark Lord.
Just with the evidence of the way the DA and Rodolphus acted around him, Orion had known that the greater wheels had started turning - spinning speedily. And it filled him with a sense of foretelling and powerful satisfaction, accomplishment, and victory.
Finally, it was the first of June and Orion was making his way towards Gryffindor Tower, after leaving the girl's bathroom which held the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets. Not unlike any other day, he had used his time-turner and covertly gone into Chamber to apparate to Potter Manor, undetected by Hogwarts' wards. After a two-hour training session with Grindelwald, in which he practiced further everything he had learned from his mentor, he had had an unusually peaceful chat with his father. Of course, he hadn't told Sirius that he and Voldemort had 'parted ways'. Actually, he hadn't told anyone except his Elite. Nevertheless, his easygoing conversation with his father had left him satisfied, and it couldn't even be dampened by Grindelwald's response of 'Soon, mein junge, soon' when he had asked the old wizard, once again, when he would be told the important and useful piece of information that Grindelwald had promised to divulge to him.
Thus, Orion was making his way back after returning from Potter Manor. Since it was quite late at night, the corridors were empty. But on the third floor he met Peeves and only narrowly avoided detection by diving sideways through one of his shortcuts. And by the time he got up to the portrait of the Fat Lady, he was not surprised to find her in a most unhelpful mood.
"What sort of time do you call this?"
"M'sorry," mumbled Orion tiredly, since during the weeks he had been increasingly feeling the exhaustion caused by the potion he was daily imbibing to mute his aura of dark magic. "I went into a classroom to study in quietness, and lost my sense of time-"
"Well, the password changed at midnight," said the portrait gruffly, "so you'll just have to sleep in the corridor, won't you?"
"You're joking!" snapped Orion indignantly. "Why did it have to change at midnight?"
"That's the way it is," said the Fat Lady. "If you're angry, go and take it up with the headmaster, he's the one who's tightened security."
"Fantastic," said Orion bitterly, looking around at the hard floor. "Bloody brilliant. Yeah, I would go and take it up with Dumbledore if he was here, because I checked his office before and it was empty, and I bloody wanted to give him something-"
"He is here," said a voice behind Orion. "Professor Dumbledore returned to the school an hour ago."
Nearly Headless Nick was gliding toward Orion, his head wobbling as usual upon his ruff, and Orion watched him with veiled distaste. In his opinion, Gryffindor House's ghost was quite pathetic, always bemoaning that he hadn't been properly decapitated. He much preferred Slytherin House's ghost, who scared all others and even had Peeves under his control.
"I had it from the Bloody Baron, who saw him arrive," said Nick. "He appeared, according to the Baron, to be in good spirits, though a little tired, of course."
"Where is he?" demanded Orion eagerly.
In his pocket, he had carried around the flask containing the memory he had supposedly garnered from Horace Slughorn. And during the past two weeks he had gone up to Dumbledore's office five times already, in order to finally give the old coot the memory. But the old goat had never been there. It only proved to him that the manipulative codger was certainly very busy with Order matters and with war plans. Nevertheless, he was quite fed up and he simply wanted to give Dumbledore the darned, modified memory once and for all.
"Oh, groaning and clanking up on the Astronomy Tower, it's a, favorite pastime of his-"
"Not the Bloody Baron - Dumbledore!" snapped Orion impatiently, while he inwardly grumbled with irritation.
Merlin, in Gryffindor he was surrounded by idiots! Well, with the exception of Hermione. But he frequently damned his decision of telling the Sorting Hat to throw him in Gryffindor instead of Slytherin. Thank Circe that he wouldn't have to put up with Gryffindorks for too long… just one more month… That phrase had almost become like a muggle prayer for him.
"Oh - in his office," said Nick slowly. "I believe, from what the Baron said, that he had business to attend to before turning in -"
"Yes, he has!" said Orion, wheeling about and sprinting off immediately, ignoring the Fat Lady who was calling after him.
"Come back! All right, I lied - I was annoyed you woke me up! The password's still 'tapeworm'!"
But Orion was already hurtling along the corridors and within minutes, he was saying "toffee éclairs" to Dumbledore's gargoyle, which leapt aside, permitting Orion entrance onto the spiral staircase.
"Enter," said Dumbledore when Orion knocked.
The old man sounded exhausted, and Orion brightened up and inwardly smirked – at least the two of them were just as tired. And without further ado, Orion pushed open the door and nonchalantly waltzed inside. There was Dumbledore's office, looking the same as ever, but with black, star-strewn skies beyond the windows.
"Good gracious, Orion," said Dumbledore in surprise. "To what do I owe this very late pleasure?"
"Sir," he said, with the polite address feeling nasty in his mouth, "I've got it, several days ago. I tried to give it to you sooner, but never found you. I've got the memory from Slughorn."
Orion pulled out the small flask Voldemort had given him, and showed it to Dumbledore. For a moment or two, the Headmaster looked stunned. Then his face split in a wide smile.
"Orion, this is spectacular news! Very well done, indeed. I knew you could do it!"
And for a second there, Orion almost thought that the old man's warm smile was honest and the wizard's affection sincere. But he wouldn't delude himself in that way, so he pushed that notion to a side.
