Disclaimer: This story is based on characters created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoat Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
AN:
Hello everyone, I'm finally back! For those who didn't know, I was in a car accident and I've spent the last month in a hospital bed. I had a friend post this news on the Yahoo Group but I know that many of you don't check it. Regrettably, I didn't have any other way of letting you know, since I didn't have Internet access in my hospital room. Anyway, it's been a hellish month for me and I was released about five days ago, but I've been very busy catching up with my studies since I missed a lot of classes and I have finals coming up in a month and a half *whimpers*. Thankfully, I mostly studied when I was in the hospital, since I had nothing else to do, so I'm not that unprepared.
I'm writing much slower than before since my whole right arm is in a cast; it broke in three places *grimaces* though it doesn't hurt any longer since I'm taking pain-killers, which make me kind of drowsily high. It's damn hilarious when it happens *sniggers* And you should see my arm, only my fingertips show and I sluggishly punch a keyboard key every thirty seconds, it's really funny. Well, it's funny now that the pain is gone and that I know that I was very lucky. My doctor was afraid that my spinal column had suffered permanent and serious damage, but it hasn't, not really. I have three herniated discs, and those who know what that's like you'll surely know that it's extremely painful, but thankfully the physiotherapy paid off and now I don't even notice anything. There's a bunch of stuff I can no longer do, like high-impact sports and bungee jumping and stuff like that, and it depressed me for a while, knowing that I could never do a bunch of things, but now I'm cheerful again because I'm reminded every day that I should simply be thankful of being alive without any serious life-altering injuries. And when I finally read all your reviews and the 'get well' messages on the Yahoo Group, my spirits were uplifted *grins* Thank you very much for that!
So, in short, I'm back to writing though I won't be posting as fast as I would like since I have to concentrate on my studies. But, I'm continuing this story to its conclusion and I'll make it as long and detailed as I see fit, as the majority of you suggested *smiles* And it will take me even longer to write because I have to reread much of my story since I simply forgot many of the details *sniggers* So I would really appreciate it if you tell me of any inconsistencies you detect in the chapters to come.
Now, everything is well, all is jolly and summer is coming soon! *grins* So enjoy your day and, hopefully, this chapter too!
Chapter 23
Orion's gaze scanned the area, a worried frown spreading on his forehead while he made himself breathe as slowly and quietly as possible. He was back at Riddle Manor's summoning chamber, filled with silver or black-masked Death Eaters, but he had arrived at a much later time than before.
Thankfully, no one seemed to have noticed that there was someone else with them. Unlike apparations, traveling by portkey was soundless, and he couldn't be seen –not even by Voldemort- since he was under the parsel-invisibility spell. Moreover, before arriving he had also casted a muting charm on his shoes, so even if he took some steps, no one would be the wiser. What worried him was whether Voldemort would sense his presence.
He doubted it, since his dark magical aura was being suppressed by the potion he daily imbibed, and which he had taken that day, hours later than usual, but still just on time. Nevertheless, even if his magic couldn't be sensed by others, Voldemort could perhaps still feel the link between them; the connection which had been forged between their minds the moment Voldemort had unwittingly made him his horcrux. Though, as always, he had his Occlumency barriers fully raised. Moreover, the last time he had been there, Voldemort hadn't seemed suspicious about anything untoward happening; the wizard hadn't looked as if he had detected any presence that shouldn't be there.
However, he was perfectly aware that the wizard would probably figure it out soon, or in a few days. Voldemort was nothing if not too damn clever. Nevertheless, he certainly didn't want to be discovered at present, so he knew that he couldn't cast any spells –wandless, nonverbal, or of any other kind- since the beams of light could be seen, and even if they weren't, Voldemort would surely sense the use of magic. Obviously, he couldn't speak, and if he moved, it had to be with extreme caution.
Orion's gaze gauged the situation again, and his mind worked fast to remember all the details he could about the last time he had been there, in order to know beforehand what would happen. Thus, he would determine what he should do; how he could escape with Draco, without being detected or suspected.
At present, Narcissa was slumped on the floor, at one side of Voldemort's throne, and Bellatrix was pocketing her wand, standing beside her sister's prone form. It was evident that Bellatrix had casted the sleeping charm on Narcissa, seconds ago. Snape was still convulsing on the open space before Voldemort's throne, but the wizard's mouth wasn't frothing anymore and the tremors along the thin body seemed to be reducing in intensity. He knew that in any minute the Potions Master would be recovering his consciousness after having been undoubtedly subjected to a round of Crucios. Again, he was certain that Snape had been tortured because, as Lucius Malfoy had done, he had attempted to protect Draco from Voldemort's fury - unsuccessfully.
Just as he remembered, Lucius was slumped besides Snape, unconscious and seemingly not about to wake up anytime soon, since he looked as if he had been tortured too intensely or for too long. Not to mention that the wizard's gaunt face and unusually thin body revealed that his one-year stint at Azkaban had left him weak and frail, to be begin with. And the man still had one hand limply on the floor, having remained outstretched towards his son.
Inches away from that hand, was Draco, now an immobile lump; the chest barely raising and falling, the silvery eyes wide open, unblinking and empty-gazed, pupils completely dilated, mouth parted agape, lips unmoving, and with a blank expression on his once handsome, pale face. Seeing that, Orion felt his throat constrict in worried alarm; there was no knowing how profound the damage inflicted on his friend was, no way to ascertain, at present, whether the boy would recover and if so, in what state he would be left.
Nevertheless, he forced himself to focus on the task at hand, and his gaze zeroed in on his past-self, who was lying on top of Draco, protecting him from Voldemort.
"…stop this foolishness now, and let me take Draco with me," was his past-self saying sharply, glaring up at Voldemort, who stood before his throne with his wand aimed at the pair. "You obviously tortured him, that's punishment enough."
His past-self was suddenly jerked up to his feet, by the flick of Voldemort's wand, and the wizard hissed enraged, "To protect the Malfoy brat you go as far as to directly oppose me in front of my servants? You'd be willing to fight me, to duel me? You'd be willing to die for him?"
His past-self started replying back in parseltongue as well, but Orion paid them no mind. His heart was frantically beating in his chest, since he realized that Draco had disappeared minutes after this scene, and he didn't quite know how do it…
But, abruptly, he remembered that Draco had disappeared the second Snape had shot the Killing Curse at the unconscious boy, and that reminded him of Snape's strange behavior… When the wizard had asked Voldemort to allow him to kill Draco to redeem himself, he had thought that Snape was betraying them. But it was obvious that it hadn't been the case… Then he remembered Snape's expression of dawning comprehension, so the man had certainly participated in the scheme of rescuing Draco without fully knowing or understanding what was happening… But why would Snape go through the act of wanting to kill Draco? How did that fit in the plan to get the boy out of there?
Suddenly, the realization struck him like a lightning bolt; to kill two birds with one stone, of course! Snape couldn't go back to spy on the Order for him, and the wizard was in a precarious situation with Voldemort as well, since the man had tried to protect Draco. Furthermore, Snape had known about the Unbreakable Vow he had taken, and hadn't told Voldemort about it, just as Bella and Narcissa hadn't done either. And those witches were surely going to be punished for it, since Voldemort had ordered that Draco couldn't receive any help.
Thus, Snape would earn back Voldemort's trust if he shot the Killing Curse at Draco, and Snape could keep spying for him without Voldemort suspecting too much about the wizard's true allegiances. Moreover, Snape's entire intervention would serve as a diversionary tactic, while he got Draco away from there… And he knew just how, it was simple, and perhaps Voldemort wouldn't suspect it for that very same reason.
He knew that there was only one way in which Snape could have known what to do, only one way to communicate with the man without anyone finding out. He had never tried it before, but it had been done to him. Well, somewhat; it had been done to Regulus. He still clearly remembered the feeling of being tied down on the stone altar, of Voldemort's crimson eyes coldly observing the rapes, the jeering Death Eaters surrounding him, the gaze on his nude and tortured body…
Orion grimaced, but his mind ploughed forward to the important part of that recollection… The pain of being entered by someone who clearly didn't want to do it nor knew how it was done… but then, the voice breaking into his mind, in between the painful thrusts… Snape's unique silky voice, tinted with despair but also sharply commanding, as he told Regulus to end his misery and kill himself, just before the man had surreptitiously conjured a shard of glass...
Snape had done it; the man had used his astounding mastery of Legilimency to communicate directly into Regulus' mind without the need of eye-contact, verbal spell, or wand use… And, indeed, that was quite an astounding feat. Surely, he wasn't as experienced as Snape when it came to Legilimency, nor remotely as gifted, but he knew that their minds had grown susceptible to one another after having shared so many memories between them. Especially after he had plunged into Snape's mind to see the recollections that his guardian had wanted to reveal to him… He had never had a reason to exploit that susceptibility between their minds, but he certainly had now… It seemed almost impossible to manage it in his first attempt, but he was instantly wrapped in self-confidence; he had done it already, so there was no doubt that he would accomplish it!
And without any further delays, his thoughts having taken mere seconds, Orion concentrated with single-minded focus and attention. He didn't lower his Occlumency shields; firstly, because Voldemort would surely detect him then, and secondly, because it wasn't required. He didn't have to pull Snape's awareness into his mind, after all. Quite the contrary; he had to project forward a thought. And that's exactly what he did.
He intently gazed at Snape, who was now starting to jerkily move his limbs, seeming as if he was slowly recovering awareness. Orion fixedly stared at him, his forehead scrunched in concentration, and he forced himself to remember how it felt to enter Snape's mind and the sensations that encompassed him when he was inside…
The wizard's mind had always felt like a vast, blank space, as if one was standing in the middle of white nothingness… Surely because Snape used his Occlumency skills to keep his mind in such way, so that his thoughts couldn't be easily found… But then, he remembered that when Snape voluntarily shared his memories, it felt as if they were coming from an infinite point in the distance, rushing forth and unraveling like a veil fluttering and stretching out, suspending in the midst of vacuum… And sometimes, Snape's emotions seeped through -those linked to the memories- and the man's mind felt as if it had suddenly turned into a black box, the darkness attempting to swallow up and hide the emotions, to suppress them, since the wizard certainly didn't want to share those…
Orion had learned enough about Legilimency at Durmstrang -mastering it though not as far as Snape had- to know that a wizard's states of mind were overlapped, one on top of the other. Meaning that Snape's 'vacuum' and 'black box', to name a few, existed at the same time in the wizard's mind, and the mind switched from one state to the other either by force, when the wizard willed it so with the use of Occlumency, or automatically, depending on the wizard's circumstances and what he was living through. For instance, he knew that Snape's mind was a 'vaccum' most of times, by default or when the wizard forced it to be so when he felt it was needed, either because he was spying or under the threat of his thoughts being perused by someone else, against his will.
On the other hand, he knew that Snape's mind became the 'black box' when the wizard felt inner turmoil, when he felt deeply affected by something and wanted to repress the subsequent emotions or thoughts… And it was clear that Snape's mind had to be in this latter state, since the man had just been tortured whilst trying to protect Draco from Voldemort's wrath. Surely, as soon as Snape regained full awareness, the wizard's mind would be bombarded by thoughts regarding his present dire situation, and undoubtedly regarding Draco's condition. Snape would certainly attempt to suppress all of that with the 'black box' in order to be able to think clearly without emotions getting in the way, so that he could find a way to help Draco without further incurring in Voldemort's anger.
Certain that his evaluation of Snape's mind was correct, Orion focused on what it had felt like to enter Snape's mind when the wizard had showed him the memory regarding his discussion with Dumbledore, when Snape had casted his patronus; a doe – Lily Evans. Back then, that memory had instantly sprung forth, as Snape willed it to do so, but it had been suspended in the midst of the 'black box'. Therefore, Orion knew what it felt like, and he invested every ounce of concentration and effort to focus on that feeling, while he continuously shouted outwards in his own mind, 'Kill Draco! Kill Draco! Kill Draco!'
"Very well. Then we'll duel," Voldemort was snarling, with wand aimed at his past-self, but Orion kept chanting the words in his mind and he didn't pay any attention to Voldemort or his past-self, his gaze still fixed on Snape. "And I will show you no mercy-"
Now, Snape was starting to slowly stand up, with a pained expression on his face, and the wizard said in a hoarse, weak voice, "My Lord…"
Orion's heart jumped in alarm, but he kept screaming the words in his mind, never losing his concentration, still wrapping himself in the feeling of what it had felt like to be in Snape's 'black box'.
"I beg forgiveness-"
'KILL DRACO!' Orion bellowed again, his mind's voice frantic, while he felt as if his heart was about to come bursting out of his chest with frenzied urgency.
Abruptly, he saw Snape clamping his mouth shut, the wizard's black eyes imperceptibly widening, and Orion almost roared with triumph. He knew that those words would pierce through Snape's mind, capturing the man's attention, since they were alarming enough.
Nevertheless, when he saw that Snape shot his past-self a frown and a quizzical gaze, his past-self then staring back at the man with puzzlement, Orion instantly yelled in his mind, 'Don't look at me! Act as if nothing is happening!'
Snape seemed to understand to some degree what he was attempting to do, since in the next second, he abruptly felt as if his mind was being propelled forward… It felt as if he had been pushing against a tightly locked door, and suddenly it had been yanked open from the inside, with him hurtling in… And when his own mind was encompassed in absolute darkness, he realized that Snape had just lowered his Occlumency shields to allow him in… A direct connection had been established between their minds, and since he was inside Snape's, now communicating required much less effort and concentration.
Thus, Orion didn't waste another second, and projected forward, urgently, 'I don't have time to explain! So simply trust me, and do as I say. Act subserviently, and tell Voldemort that you want to redeem yourself! This is to save Draco – so that I can get him out!'
Snape didn't beep a word, didn't even twitch. The wizard simply straightened up, an expression of hard determination flickering across his face, before he gazed at Voldemort and said beseechingly, "My Lord, allow me to redeem myself…"
'Tell him,' said Orion hastily in his mind's voice, 'that you want to prove yourself!'
"Today I made many mistakes," continued Snape, in the same pleading tone of voice, "and I wish to prove myself to you, Master."
"Indeed, you have much to atone for, Severus," said Voldemort coldly, though the wizard's expression was faintly pleased. On the other hand, his past-self was gaping at Snape. "I am listening to how you propose to do it."
'Now tell him,' Orion instantly projected forth, with his heart pumping fast and forcing his breathing to remain slow and silent despite of it, 'that you want to kill Draco!'
"Please, My Lord," said Snape quietly, "allow me to be the one to kill Draco Malfoy."
"WHAT?!" burst out his past-self, and Orion saw a tumult of expression flickering through his past-self's face; fury, hurt betrayal, suspiciousness, and then confused pensiveness when Snape shot his past-self a hard glance which made his other self stand still, yet the alert tenseness didn't disappear from his past-self's shoulders.
"You wish to kill the Malfoy brat?" said Voldemort musingly, before a satisfied smirk tugged his lips. "Very well. Do so, and you'll gain my pardon."
'Do it – shoot the Killing Curse at Draco!' snapped Orion in his mind. 'And you have to mean it; Voldemort cannot suspect you. It will work out similarly to what happened with Dumbledore. You'll cast the Killing Curse, meaning it, and at that same moment I'll save Draco – I'll take him away!'
"Thank you, My Lord," said Snape, bowing to Voldemort, before he swiftly aimed his wand at the prone and unconscious Draco.
Orion tensed, with his heart still wildly beating in his chest, since he knew that this was it. He hadn't moved an inch since appearing in the chamber, he was still invisible and crouching at the same spot; a few paces away from Draco and Lucius Malfoy. Now, he swiftly tugged out the Invisibility Cloak from his robes' pocket, and then the Black Heir ring. Since he couldn't use spells to make Draco invisible -or Voldemort would sense the magic- he would use the Cloak. But knowing that he would need both hands for the Cloak, he placed the ring in his mouth, clamping his teeth down on it, yet leaving half of the ring protruding from his parted lips. Immediately after, he extended the Invisibility Cloak in front of him, grasping the hem with hands widely set apart, and he flexed his knees, ready to jump forward at any instant.
'I expect to be given a full explanation about what has happened tonight!' suddenly blasted in Orion's mind, in Snape's sharp, demanding tone of voice, the echoing loudness of it making him wince.
'Of course,' rushed out Orion. 'I'm taking Draco to Potter Manor. I'll wait for you there, so apparate as soon as you can. And remember to triangulate! No one must know about Potter Manor, Voldemort least of all. This is more important now than ever before, since it's the only place where I can keep Draco safe, given that only us know about it!' He glanced at Lucius, and then Narcissa, and added with worry, 'What about the Malfoys-'
'Nothing further will happen to them, I'll make sure of it,' resounded Snape's voice in his mind, the tone flat and to the point. 'Taking care of Draco is now your responsibility. He'll need a healer - immediately.'
'I'll find one,' inwardly said Orion promptly, with his gaze fixed on Snape, feeling fully alert and expectant, yet he also felt as if his heart would pop out through his throat if the wizard didn't act soon. There was so much of rushing adrenaline that his exhausted body could cope with.
In the next second, Snape's face contorted with hatred, the wizard's wand aimed at Draco, and Orion leaped forth as the wizard spat, "Avada Kedavra!"
When the beam of bright, green light started to careen towards Draco, Orion had already landed on top of the boy, and he immediately flung the Invisibility Cloak over them, covering them completely, and thus making Draco disappear from sight. In a flash, he flicked his wrist and grasped his wand when it came shooting out from underneath his sleeve, from its holster. And without another second, he tapped his wand's tip on the ring he had clenched between his teeth, to activate the portkey. Just when he saw his other self about to land on top of them -since he remembered that he had had the intention of blocking Snape's Killing Curse, thinking that the man had truly betrayed them- he pressed his mouth against Draco's, forcing the ring to touch the boy's lips, just when the portkey activated and they were swept away, seconds before the curse struck them.
The last blurry thing he saw was his past-self on his hands and knees, with a perplexed expression on his face while trying to comprehend that Draco had suddenly disappeared. And the last thing he heard was Voldemort's enraged roar, "WHO HAS DONE THIS?! Where's the boy?!"
But he had little time to think, since he now found himself in a maelstrom of tightening space, colors rushing around him, as he tightly grasped Draco's waist, making sure that the boy wasn't flung out in the middle of the portkey's whirlwind.
Abruptly, they painfully crashed against solid ground, and Orion winced when he felt something stabbing his chest, a muted 'crack' faintly reaching his ears. He immediately spat out the Black Heir ring into his hand and pocketed it. Then, he disentangled himself from the Cloak and jumped away from Draco's prone form, before he grasped the Cloak and rearranged it so that it fully covered Draco once again. Still feeling his heart loudly thumping in his chest, he glanced around to ascertain that he was back at Hogwarts' grounds, just besides the school's gates. He was about to grasp Draco once more and swiftly apparate away, when, abruptly, he became aware of something tingling on his chest, and he quickly parted open his robes, with a frown on his face.
Orion's breath hitched when he saw a drop of blood trickling down from a tiny cut on his white shirt, just where the time-turner had once been dangling on. He quickly unclasped the golden chain from his neck and stared at the broken hourglass; tiny shards of glass were falling down, along with specks of golden dust.
The time-turner had broken, it was now useless. Orion frowned for a second before he straightened up and swished his wand, pointing at the wrecked hourglass. It vanished with a flick of his wand, and he didn't waste time dwelling on it. Honestly, he was partly relieved. He didn't think he would like to time-travel again in order to fix matters; for starters because he couldn't afford to depend on it to patch his mistakes and secondly because even though his other self hadn't seen him this time, if it happened in the future then there was no way of knowing how it would alter the timeline and what the consequences would be.
All in all, it was best for him to never use or depend on a time-turner again. He would only resort to that if someday in the future something catastrophic happened; then, he would have to decide if he lost less by attempting to alter the timeline to prevent it. And only then, would he consider breaking into a Ministry of Magic in order to get his hands on another time-turner.
Suddenly, a stern voice reached his ears across the distance, and Orion stood very still when he saw Scrimgeour and a group of Aurors making their way out of Hogwarts. The moment they stood at the entrance, with the Minister issuing orders right, left, and center, Orion caught sight of something from the edge of his vision, and he snapped his head around.
He sucked in a breath when he saw that his past-self had just portkeyed a few paces away from them. His past-self immediately crouched and gazed at the Aurors congregated far away at the school's entrance, and Orion observed his other-self in complete stillness and quietness. He was still under the parsel-invisibility spell and Draco, who was lying at his feet, was still covered by the Cloak, so they couldn't be seen. Nevertheless, he didn't want to make a single sound, just in case.
Immediately, he saw his past-self checking his wristwatch and then pulling out the chain of the time-turner and looping it around his neck. And in the next second, his other-self spun the hourglass three times and he was gone. Orion slowly let out an exhalation of breath; the cycle was now complete and he was pretty sure that he hadn't made any mistakes that would alter the timeline.
Without wasting another second, and becoming once again aware of the urgency of his present circumstances, he quickly kneeled down to tightly clutch Draco against his chest. And using another hand to grasp the Cloak, he instantly closed his eyes and swiftly pulled them into an apparition.
"GELLERT!" shouted Orion, as soon as his feet landed on the carpeted floors of one of Potter Manor's lush and cozy bedrooms. "Gellert, Daisy – quick, in here!"
With a grunt of exhaustion, he lifted Draco higher up with his arms, before he gently settled down the boy along the bed. Then, he summarily threw the Cloak unto an armchair and flicked his wand to cancel his own invisibility spell. Just when he tossed the sheath and sword to the floor, in order to unburden himself from the weight to inspect Draco closely, Potter Manor's chief house-elf popped into the room and Grindelwald barged in, running and with a frown on his face.
"Master Potter is injured?" said Daisy worriedly, already snapping her fingers to summon several vials from the Manor's potion storeroom, while her blue gaze was travelling along Orion, as if weighing how to best tackle her recalcitrant and difficult master to force-feed him a potion.
"Not I," interjected Orion urgently, pointing at Draco. "Him – help him! I need to-"
"It happened today?" said Grindelwald, his frown deepening and his voice carrying a hint of surprise, as he approached the bed.
"The Death Eater attack, yes. And many other things," replied Orion hastily, as he flicked his left wrist and caught the Phoenix wand that came shooting into his hand. He threw it at the German wizard, and demanded, "Here, can you help him?!"
Grindelwald had instantly caught the wand in mid-air and was already casting a volley of spells and charms on Draco, his expression turning more somber with each passing second.
"This is beyond my healing skills, mein junge," said the wizard gravely, shooting a stern glance at Orion. "I told you the Malfoy Heir was important; that we couldn't lose him, due to his bloodlines. Why did you allow this to be done to him-"
"I didn't!" snapped Orion frantically, his gaze flickering from Draco to Grindelwald, as he jerkily carded his fingers through his hair. "I did my best, Gellert… So many things happened…"
"What happened?" demanded Grindelwald curtly, his eyes narrowing, but then widening as they caught sight of the sword lying on the floor. "Is that-"
"I don't have time to explain!" said Orion, his alarm increasing when he saw that the wizard had stopped attending Draco, as if it was already pointless to do so. He stared at Grindelwald with wide eyes, and gasped out, "Then Severus was right. Only a professional healer can help-"
"Ja, indeed, and even then it's probable that the Malfoy boy won't ever be himself again," interjected Grindelwald sharply, before he carried on with harsh sarcasm, "And what do you intended to do, mein junge? Break into St. Mungo's to kidnap a healer?"
"If I must, YES!" yelled Orion, and he was already running out the room, as he added over his shoulder, "Do whatever you can in the meantime!"
In mid sprint, he was about to apparate into muggle London –be seen be damned- when he realized that there was someone else who would be much easier to kidnap. He instantly apparated into Black Manor and entered the nearest parlor. He didn't even acknowledge Arcturus Black's portrait and the stern wizard's arched eyebrow; as soon as he reached the fireplace, he grasped floo powder from the pot on the mantelpiece.
The second he was inside the fireplace, he flung the powder and snapped, "Headmaster's office, Durmstrang!"
After a dizzying whirlwind of green flames, he came out from a fireplace, coughing and covered in dust, and he quickly gazed around. The office was empty and not a single candle was lit; Vagnarov was probably asleep in his own chambers. Orion didn't waste another hitch of breath and he yanked open the door and pelted down the stairs. In a few seconds, he was already dashing along one of the dimly lit corridors of the castle. The only sound that reached his ears were his own footfalls, other than that, there was absolute silence; everyone at the school seemed to be sleeping, since it was probably way after midnight.
Panting loudly, he finally reached a door, located in the castle's wing for the professors' private chambers. He trailed his fingertips down along the thick, wooden door, feeling the tingle of several magical wards on it. He didn't waste a second in whipping out his Death and Life wand, swishing it repeatedly as he brought down the numerous wards. Finally, with a muted 'click', the door cracked open and Orion slid inside.
The interior was dark, but once his eyes quickly got used to it, he swiftly ran through the sitting room to reach another door. With his heart pumping fast, he yanked it open and let out an exhalation of breath when he saw that this room seemed to be a bedroom. It was cozy, with dwindling flames flickering in the fireplace, illuminating the soft blues and deeps lilacs which decorated a woman's chamber. And then, he spotted her, deeply asleep on the plushy bed, under a thin blanket which was scrunched, only covering her legs. It was Petra Podroff, their Healing Dark Arts teacher.
Orion's eyebrows flew upwards when he saw the satin, skimpy, form-fitting nightgown that the sleeping witch was wearing. She was, admittedly, a beauty – a seductive witch who knew the power she held over men, and mercilessly wielded it, according to Viktor Vlonski. Indeed, if Viktor could see her now, the hormone-driven teenager would undoubtedly be salivating. The boy –who, despite being quite smug and joyful about his 'serious' relationship with Titania- still had wandering eyes whenever their Healing professor was present. He vaguely wondered with amusement what Viktor would say if he saw Petra Podroff in this attire. According to Viktor –who thought of himself a sage guru when it came to girls, sex, and the female psyche- witches only bothered to dress smartly and to wear 'nice panties' when 'they had someone who shagged them'. And, 'oh, man, if they wear lacy lingerie it's because they want you to rip it from their bodies and fuck them senseless!'.
Well, he would take Viktor's word for it. After all, he felt no inclination to fathom the convolutions of women's minds; he was quite clueless when it came to unraveling Voldemort's psyche, let alone that of the entire female gender.
Urgently, he swiftly reached the bed and roughly shook her shoulder, as he said sharply, "Professor Petra, wake up, wake up!"
"Huh… niet…" she said groggily, her icy blue eyes slowly parting open. Instantly, as her gaze landed on him, her eyes flew open and she gasped out angrily while she jumped straight up, "What do you think you're doing, Mr. Black?! These are my private quarters-"
Orion pulled away from the bed, and interrupted hastily, "I need your help-"
"…breaking into a professor's chambers," continued rambling the witch, her Russian accent becoming thicker as her voice grew angrier and sterner, while she grasped the wand on her nightstand, flicking it and clothing herself with a robe which covered her entirely, "...in the middle of the night! The Headmaster will know about this, young man. Now, get out before I-"
"I didn't break in to see you in your nightgown," snapped Orion impatiently. "I'm not a pervy, love-sick student who wants to spy on you-"
"I demand that you get out immediately," bit out Petra, narrowing her icy blue eyes at him as she stood away from the bed and landed a hand on his shoulder, starting to force him out of the room. "And it's detention for you, Mr. Black-"
"I NEED YOUR HELP!" bellowed Orion, jerking away from her grasp while he swiftly rounded on her, tightly clutching her arm. "You're the first person I thought of. I know you can help with your healing skills!"
The witch leveled him with a skeptic gaze, and demanded curtly, "My help, for what?"
"My friend is badly injured," replied Orion hastily. "You have to come with me to see him-"
"If one of the students is injured or sick," interjected Petra curtly, "then take him to the Infirmary-"
"He isn't a Durmstrang student, and I can't bring him here, and a mediwitch isn't good enough," said Orion, his tone of voice growing urgent and desperate. "I need a healer and you were one before becoming a professor. Please, Mistress Petra, you must help me, he's in a very bad shape and every second counts!"
She narrowed her eyes at him, her smooth forehead slightly crinkling. "Who's injured? Why can't you bring him here? And what happed to him?"
"Er…" said Orion uncertainly, before he quickly made up his mind and rushed out, "It's Draco Malfoy. He was tortured and only a healer can do something for him. So please just come along-"
"Tortured? The Malfoy boy, you say?" interrupted Petra, her frown deepening and her gaze turning scrutinizing.
She must have found something in his eyes, finally believing that he hadn't snuck in just to see her in her nightgown, since she didn't wait for a reply. And in the next second she started to bustle from one room to the next, picking things from drawers and shelves.
"Tell me about his condition," said the witch, as she continued packing things into a black, leather bag, with Orion trailing after her. "I need to know every pertinent detail so that I bring with me everything that can be of use."
Orion nodded, and quickly rushed out, "He was tortured, I think it must have been for about fifteen minutes or so, and I'm quite sure he was repeatedly subjected to the Cruciatus Curse…"
At that, Petra snapped her head up to glance at him, halting in her actions. "Cruciatus Curse?" A grave expression grew over her features, and she demanded, "What else? Any internal damage, any bleeding, any exterior indication of some other curse?"
"I don't know," replied Orion, frantically rubbing his forehead, biting his lower lip with extreme worry. "I didn't part his robes to check his body. But he was subjected to a Legilimency attack, and I believe that his mind is what suffered the most."
The witch stood still again, and now she pierced him with her eyes, and said sharply, "He was crucioed repeatedly and tortured further by the use of Legilimency? Who-?"
"It was Voldemort," said Orion instantly, without giving her a chance of ending her question and without caring, for now, how much he disclosed.
Petra sucked in a breath, her chiseled face paling, before she muttered, "That's the first thing you should have told me… Tortured by the Dark Lord… that changes everything… I can only imagine that boy's state… the seriousness of his injuries…"
She kept muttering under her breath, seeming to be distressed and anxious about her patient, as she continued to fill her leather bag with renewed hastiness. Now she used her wand, flicking it continuously to make potion vials, bandages and the like, surge from the most unsuspecting places of her quarters to fly into her bag.
A moment later, she stood with straight shoulders and a determined expression on her face, a hand clutching the stuffed and bulging leather bag, and she said curtly, "I'm ready. Where to, Mr. Black?"
"I'll apparate us," was all that Orion said, before he tightly grasped her arm and plunged them into a whirlwind of rushing colors.
They landed right in the middle of the bedroom where he had left Draco, and he didn't get a chance to explain anything, since the instant they arrived Grindelwald turned away from the bed to glance at them.
"And who might this ravishing beauty be, mein junge?" said the wizard, crookedly smirking at Petra, who's eyes were wide and who seemed to have lost her speech.
Grindelwald's smirk widened even further, before he gallantly took her limp hand and kissed it, as he said charmingly, "It's always a pleasure to meet disarmingly gorgeous women as yourself, Miss..?"
"Po- Podroff," stuttered out the flabbergasted witch, her icy blue eyes round and fixed on Grindelwald. She shook her head, as if coming out from an entrancement, and gasped out, "You… you are Lord Grindelwald! How's this possible? You're dead-"
"Oh, no, Miss Podroff," said Grindelwald with open amusement, toothily grinning at her. "I'm quite alive and kicking." He gently dropped her hand, and his features suddenly turned grave. "I assume you're a healer, ja?"
That seemed to snap the witch from her dazzlement, since she curtly nodded, shooting at Orion a stern glance which clearly stated that she expected an explanation from him later, and she swiftly approached the bed. She showed no fear of Grindelwald, nor did she display any sycophantic reverence towards him. Actually, she seemed to have completely forgotten about them, as she started to cast several diagnosing charms on Draco.
With another flick of her wand, Draco was suddenly divested from all his clothes and Orion sucked in a breath when he saw the numerous, deep gashes crisscrossing the boy's pale torso, with blood and a thick, black liquid burbling from them.
A deep, worried frown spread over her face when another one of her charms resulted in Draco's head glowing in a bright red light, and Orion demanded frenziedly, "What? What is it?!"
"Out!" snapped Petra, not even glancing at them while she quickly waved her wand over Draco's forehead.
"What?!" said Orion in a shrilly tone of voice, as he lunged forward to be able to see his friend better. "I'm not leaving this room! I'm not leaving him-"
"Yes you are," interrupted the witch sharply, leveling him with a hard glance over her shoulder. "I cannot work with you hovering over me. His condition is much graver than I thought and you'll only get in my way. So get out! The house-elf can stay, I can use its assistance."
In the next second, Petra was rushing out orders to Daisy, who seemed to have decided quite on her own to obey the unknown witch, even if her master hadn't order her to. The tiny house-elf was already pulling out everything from Petra's leather bag and orderly setting it on the enlarged nightstand. In the meanwhile, Orion didn't get a chance to indignantly complain since he found himself being forcefully dragged away from the room by Grindelwald, who quite unceremoniously frog-marched him into the nearest sitting room.
"It's always better to leave a healer to work alone," said the German wizard, pushing Orion down onto a large, plush couch. "The witch seems to know what she's doing and healers always get into a horrendous mood when someone interferes with their work." He shot him a glance, and added curtly, "And you would have only become a nuisance, mein junge."
Orion slumped into the couch, and numbly nodded, the exhaustion he had felt all during that night mercilessly creeping back into his body. He rested his elbows on his knees, and stared down at his open and spread palms, feeling a sickly sense of impotence as he muttered quietly, "Will he be alright?"
"It's hard to say," replied Grindelwald, with a heavy sigh. "We can only hope that Miss Podroff is as competent as she looks. If we lost the Malfoy Heir… Well, it would be a setback but his bloodlines don't end with him. The Malfoys could still be… persuaded to have another offspring."
Orion's head snapped up and he darkly glowered at the wizard, as he fiercely spat, "You're speaking like Morgana or Mordred would! Draco isn't just the result of a crossing between the Malfoy and the secondary Black line, he's-"
"Your friend," interjected Grindelwald impassively, arching an eyebrow as he crossed his legs in a smooth and elegant move. "Ja, I know. But for the rest of us his only value lies, at present, in the blood he carries in his veins, in the possibility of the offspring he can produce in the future. If he had been properly trained, it would be another matter entirely." He waved a hand dismissively. "I guess there's still time for that, if he survives."
"Properly trained?" gritted out Orion through clenched teeth. "I assume you mean that he should have been trained to be a fighter, a-"
"A proper and useful follower to you," interrupted Grindelwald, piercing him with his hawk-like gaze. "Ja, that's exactly what I mean. You'll need someone you can rely on, someone you can delegate tasks and duties to, someone highly versed in the Dark Arts. Someone not only powerful, with diplomatic skills, and reared as a proper, pureblooded dark wizard, but also someone who has feelings for you. Since then, they would be more unlikely to betray you down the road. You know you can never truly trust any of your followers or… 'friends', but you should at least mold someone to be your right-hand." He clicked his tongue, and added with a disappointed tone of voice, "That's what I thought that the Malfoy boy could become for you. Pity, pity…"
"He isn't dead yet," snapped Orion angrily, glaring at him, before he huffed. "Besides, you never had a right-hand so I don't see why I would need one-"
"Oh, but I did," interjected Grindelwald, crookedly smirking at him. "Several, actually. You met one of them, Dietrich Emmerich, and he was only one of a long chain of close… followers."
Orion narrowed his eyes at the man, detecting the smug and self-satisfied glint in those hawk-like eyes, and he said bluntly, "You mean that you shagged them, don't you? Is that how you made sure that they had 'feelings' for you? You kept them happy so that they wouldn't have a reason to betray you?"
"Ja," said Grindewald, widely smirking. "Precisely. I detected promising young wizards, I feed their infatuation and reverence for me, I magnanimously bestowed my attentions upon them, I made sure they would never think about anyone else but me, and I tied them to me and to my ambitions." His expression turned stern, and he added sharply, "Yet I never forgot that even them could stab me behind the back. You have to be ever watchful, mein junge."
Orion shook his head, and asked with a dismayed tone of voice, "Is that why you wanted me to be with Draco? Why you so emphatically defended my right to have lovers? To be intimate with Draco?"
"Of course," said Grindelwald, staring at him as if he thought he was being particularly dim-witted. He waved a hand, and continued nonchalantly, "And also because he showed promise." He shot him a toothy grin. "In the Spirits' words, the Malfoy Heir is a 'diamond in the brute'. He only needs training and he could be a superb follower to you. And let's not forget the way you're bounded together since you took some of his soul's essence." A musing expression spread over his features, as he said quietly, "I'm quite sure that it has made him even more attached to you, and that means that he'll have less propensity to betray you if he ever had a reason to do so. Alas, now we'll have to wait and see if he lives or not."
"Enough!" bit out Orion, seething with anger. "I know that I have to be conniving, and that I have to use people for my benefit, but I cannot think of Draco in those terms. He's…" He frowned and pierced the older wizard with a suspicious gaze. "Are you saying all this stuff to make me angry and thus take my mind away from what's going on in the next room?"
Grindelwald shot him a devious grin. "Perhaps. Is it working?"
Without replying, Orion huffed and slumped back against the couch, his expression turning frazzled and worried once more. Though, in the next second, he frowned. Gellert would never say things like that only to distract him, it was clear that the wizard had wanted to introduce a new idea to him; that of having a 'trusted' right-hand, and of using any means at his disposal to make sure that that person remained loyal. But he didn't quite understand why the wizard brought this up now, of all times. He already had someone like that: Calypso. Though…
Orion's frown deepened. Though, she still didn't involve herself with the DA as much as she had done in the past. And Grindelwald had a valid point; he would need to start delegating more than before. After that night, things would be speeding forward, there was no doubt about it. And he already had the evidence that he couldn't manage everything himself; the mistakes he had been committing over the last months were proof of it. From now onwards, he needed to form a clique of his most capable and committed followers.
Furthermore, he couldn't really condemn Grindelwald's tactics. Hadn't he used his 'charms' on Rabastan? Hadn't he made Komorov feel pleasure through the VA mark on the wizard's nape? And in the past, hadn't he flirted with Sebastien as well? Not to mention that he knew that he could wield sex as weapon when dealing with Voldemort. Surely, the man wasn't stupid enough to fall for that, but it was useful. And Tom Riddle himself had used his charms to entice followers. Yes, the idea had merit, but he certainly didn't think that he could go as far as to sleep with people to tie them to him. In that regard, he rather follow Tom Riddle's example; promising and tempting but never truly delivering.
Something else caught his attention. Grindelwald hadn't mentioned Snape as a possible candidate to be his right-hand. No, the wizard had wanted Draco to be that, someone his own age. It was significant and he could only surmise that Grindelwald expected him to rely on the newer generations rather than on the older. And he understood why; younger witches and wizards were easier to impress and mold, and they were more eager to fight for their ideals and, more importantly, they weren't 'used'. Indeed, people like Lucius Malfoy and Severus Snape had already served a Master for decades, they were already worn out, and highly suspicious of anyone who'd want to use them. But this was a problem, since for some time now he considered Snape to be his most trusted and useful 'follower', if the man could be pegged as one. Indeed, in matters of war, he trusted Snape over Remus or his very own father.
Orion sighed and tiredly rubbed his head. He would have to think about those things further along. At present, he didn't have the energy to scheme, and he reminded himself that there were other much more pertinent matters which he needed to resolve.
He glanced up at Grindelwald, and his eyes marginally widened when he saw that the wizard was intently inspecting Gryffindor's Sword. He hadn't even noticed that the wizard had taken it from the bedroom when they had left Petra to work on Draco. And apparently the Cloak as well, since its shimmering fabric was drapped across the back of the wizard's chair. As Grindelwald gazed at the sword, the expression on the man's aged, yet handsome face was curious, a mix between fascination and a certain revulsion – the latter no doubt due to the Light nature of the object.
The German wizard must have felt his gaze on him, since Grindelwald promptly glanced at him, arching a quizzical eyebrow. "Are you done with your musings, mein junge? Are you ready to tell me what happened tonight?" He lifted the sword, and added with a modicum of wry amusement, "And why you stole a Founder's heirloom from Hogwarts' halls?"
"I didn't want to leave it behind," said Orion without any preambles, with a grimace on his face, "in case Voldemort launched a successful coup on Hogwarts and used the Sword to make another horcrux."
"Ah, ja," said Grindelwald, his lips quirking, "I see why you'd want to prevent that." All dark amusement faded from the wizard's face, and he said gravely, "Now, I want a full account of what you've been up to this evening."
Orion narrowed his eyes at the wizard, feeling a surge of anger, and he said crisply, "Oh, you're getting it, and then you'll answer every question I have."
"Will I?" said Grindelwald impassively, utterly unfazed by Orion's fuming countenance. Indeed, he appeared to be amused once more, his lips curving into a crooked, eager smirk. "Well, go ahead, mein junge. I'm waiting for your narration with bated breath."
Orion's eyebrow twitched with annoyance, before he launched into a detailed explanation of everything which had occurred during the long day; starting with his discovery of Trelawney being an Aux Atrum. He never allowed the older wizard to interrupt, though the man didn't attempt it. Rather, the wizard listened with focused attention, his expression not even once revealing his thoughts. The man stayed strangely quiet.
Letting out a low, tired breath, Orion rested back on his couch, his throat slightly hurting from all the non-stop talking, yet his piercing gaze never left Grindelwald's face. He stretched out a hand to grasp the teacup that one of the house-elves had brought him a while ago, and he downed it in one swoop, relieving his dry throat.
Abruptly, he was startled by a loud clap, and almost spat out his tea, when the older wizard slapped his hands together, letting out a loud crow of chortling chuckles, as he exclaimed proudly, "Congratulations, mein junge! Superb, magnificent – your first possession! This merits a toast!"
Grindelwald glanced around, as if about to call for a house-elf to ask for champagne, but Orion forestalled any of that by disbelievingly gazing at him, as he said crisply, "That's it? After everything I've told you, you simply want to celebrate what I did to Hermione Granger?" He narrowed his eyes at the wizard, and added sharply, "Cut the crap, Gellert. You know very well that there're much more important matters to discuss-"
"You don't think that your first possession of another human being deserves to be celebrated? And with the use of such an obscure and ancient dark curse that not even I remembered?" interjected Grindelwald quite innocently, looking disappointed. Suddenly, the wizard leaned forward on his seat, and demanded sharply, his tone of voice now harsh, "Or is it that you regret what you did to that mudblood, mein junge?"
Orion gazed at him in silence, before he replied with curt honesty, "No, I don't. I know that what I've done to her is quite horrible. I wouldn't wish it to anyone I care for, but it's for the best." He sighed and carded his fingers through his hair. "I need a spy in the Light's side, someone who'd never be suspected and she was ideal for it. Moreover, in this way, I can use her intelligence to further the Dark's cause, but…" He frowned, and glanced up at the wizard. "But what slightly worries me is that I liked the feeling of knowing that I can completely control her, her behavior and her very thoughts, if I want to. It was similar to what I felt when Voldemort made me use the Mayan Stone… that feeling of absolute power-"
"You fear absolute power?" said Grindelwald flatly, narrowing his eyes at him. "You sound like Albus. Power in itself shouldn't be feared, rather, who wields it. And you cannot tell me that you don't trust yourself with power, mein junge." He scoffed, and added snidely, "Given your own scruples and the way you limit yourself, you're the best candidate to wield such power, wouldn't you say?"
"I don't want to enter pointless, theoretical debates concerning power," interjected Orion impatiently, leveling the wizard with a hard gaze. "You know what I want to talk about."
"Ja," said Grindelwald gruffly, standing up to pour himself a copious tumbler of Kristakoff's Aged Scotch. He took a long sip, and then pierced him with his eyes, as he said sharply, "And what I want to know is when you're going to stop taking the potion which suppresses your dark magical aura." His hawk-like gaze clinically inspected him. "You look about to drop dead on your feet, mein junge. You know what the consequences are." He narrowed his eyes at him, and commanded sternly, "You're going off it, tomorrow."
"Tomorrow?" said Orion, frowning at him. "I can't, I have to-"
"Kill me," interjected Grindelwald, shooting him a nasty smirk, before he took another long sip from his tumbler.
Orion stiffened, his gaze instantly snapping up to closely regard every feature of the wizard's face, and he said quietly, "You know I cannot do that yet. After what happened today-"
"No more excuses!" spat Grindelwald, a fierce glint sparkling in his eyes as he slammed his tumbler down on the low table and rounded on Orion. "That was the deal, mein junge. That you would kill me the day after you confronted Albus. Tomorrow, as previously planned, we'll go to Durmstrang, you'll gather all the students in the Hall, you'll give a speech, I'll reveal that I'm alive, that you rescued me, that I've been training you, and I'll proclaim you my successor – I'll proclaim you to be the new, true Dark Lord!" He swooped down, and tightly clutched Orion's chin, forcing him to look up, as he added sharply, "And after that, we'll leave the school, you'll kill me, and you'll absorb my powers. You owe it to me, for everything I've done for you!"
Orion clenched his jaw, before he pulled an impassive expression over his face, and remarked nonchalantly, "Funny, you said 'confronted Albus', not 'killed Albus'." He arched an eyebrow, piercing the wizard with his gaze. "Is that what I did? Just confronted him, I didn't kill him?"
"How should I know?" scoffed Grindelwald, releasing Orion's chin as if burned, before he once again made a move to grasp his tumbler. "I wasn't there, was I?"
"You do know!" spat Orion incensed, jumping up and clutching the wizard's arm before the man reached the scotch. He intently bore his eyes into the wizard's hazel ones, and demanded, "From everything I've told you about tonight, what has made you this disturbed? Was it finding out that Dumbledore 'feels' you, whatever the bloody hell that means? Was it knowing that he told me that you two bonded! When? Why, how?! And why didn't you tell me before, Gellert! Or is it knowing that the old man obviously still cares for you?!"
His eyes narrowed, and he continued, his voice getting louder in his anger, "And what did Dumbledore mean when he asked me how far along I was in my transformation? What bloody transformation?! And why did he say in the cave that my blood was worth more than his? Why was he scared when I told him about the voice in my dreams? Why did he say that it would mean my end? Why did he say that if I, or anyone, becomes the Vindico it would be catastrophic? And what reasons does he have to believe that it's best for wizards to keep crossing their bloodlines with muggles and muggleborns, even at the expense of losing magical power? EXPLAIN EVERYTHING!"
Grindelwald straightened to his full height, and said curtly, "You know very well that I have no clue regarding the identity of the voice of your dreams. I don't know if someone is giving you those visions, or for what purpose-"
"You don't know and Dumbledore does?" interrupted Orion crisply, and it didn't escape his notice that the wizard was completely disregarding all his other questions. "I find that hard to believe, Gellert. What are you hiding from me?"
"NOTHING!" spat Grindelwald, now looking even more angered than Orion did. He pierced him with a hard gaze, and snarled, "After everything I've done for you, the things I've sacrificed – the possibility of me becoming the Vindico, of taking back the reins and power!- after I've spent every single minute of my days in training you to help you develop and control your powers, you suspect me of doing it for my own benefit? Or what do you fear? That I'm colluded with the Spirits?" He violently shook his head, and added fiercely, "You know very well that I feel no loyalty towards them, that I myself rebelled against what they had planned for me and that I spurred you to do the same. That I've stood by your side and supported you in everything you've wanted to do-"
"Yes, you have," interjected Orion, his voice low, in stark contrast with the older wizard's. He pinned him with his gaze, and added quietly, "You have done much for me, asking for nothing in return, only for me to kill you when we were done. And it makes me wonder why you would do so much. As you've said, you could try to become the Vindico. You could kill me and Voldemort and succeed in your second attempt. The Hallows are near your grasp, more than ever before, so what's stopping you?"
Grindelwald took in a deep breath, immediately calming down and regaining his cool self-control. And, indeed, Orion was still quite surprised at the man's previous outburst. He had never seen him in such state.
"I told you that in the past I came to realize that I wouldn't survive the Vindico test," muttered the German wizard. "I feel the desire to try, of course… the temptation is there, caused by the 'pull' of my dark magic, as you call it, but I know I wouldn't succeed, mein junge."
"But you don't know what the Vindico test is!" snapped Orion, pressing on. "How can you be certain that you'd fail and die, if you don't even know what it involves?!"
"Because I feel it," snapped Grindelwald impatiently, angrily narrowing his eyes at him. "I admitted to you once that you have the capacity to become more powerful than I can ever be, didn't I? That you have greater magical skills than I do, such as parseltongue and Necromancy. All these are an indication of your power, junge!"
"So you're telling me that you're content to let me become the Vindico," said Orion slowly, closely gauging him, "just because you believe that I'm more powerful than you, and thus, what? – that I deserve to be the Vindico and you don't?" He scoffed, and said skeptically, "That doesn't sound like something a Dark Lord would accept, does it? And you still think of yourself as such, so why are you giving up on something you've coveted all your life? It doesn't make sense!"
"It does to me, mein junge," interjected Grindelwald curtly, his expression solemn, proud and closed off. He intently regarded him, and added shortly, "And I have my own personal reasons, as well."
"Yes, let's talk about those," said Orion, piercing him with his eyes. "The very first day I met you, when the pendant that Karkaroff had given me activated and portkeyed me to your cell in Nurmengard, you said you had been waiting for me. You said you had a personal reason for having stayed there, waiting for a Vindico candidate to arrive. Then, when I broke you out from Nurmengard, you said you were training me due to -among other things- a personal reason as well. What is it, Gellert?"
"It's just that - personal," said Grindelwald, his lips curving into a harsh smirk.
"I want to know," pressed on Orion, his voice hard and unyielding. "Is it because of Dumbledore?" He frowned, trying to unravel the wizard's true motives, and thinking of how to best express his convoluted and uncertain thoughts. He shot him a gauging, but also suspicious, accusing, and slightly hurt glance, "Is it because you still care about him? Are you in same way helping him?" He confusedly shook his head. "I don't know what to believe, Gellert… It simply doesn't make sense. Is all of this truly because of him-"
Grindelwald scoffed, and finally interjected, "If I was in league with Albus why would I be helping you become the Vindico? Enough of your ludicrous suspicions, mein junge."
"I want to know," reiterated Orion, displaying hard-headed stubbornness.
"Alright," said Grindelwald after a small pause, his expression one of sly deviousness. "I'll tell you tomorrow, the moment before you kill me. Does that sound like a good deal?"
Orion narrowed his eyes at him. "It would defeat the purpose, wouldn't it? To find out once you're dead is rather pointless."
"Nein, it's not," quipped in the older wizard, nonchalantly dusting off his robes from imaginary lint. "You would never find out if I didn't tell you. So it's better than nothing, wouldn't you agree?"
With a dissatisfied grunt, neither agreeing to the terms or that he would be killing the wizard the next day, Orion turned around to take his seat again. But before he reached the couch, he shot the man a glance, and asked quietly, "Is he alive?"
"Ja."
Orion briefly closed his eyes, exhausted, wary, and frayed, and then plopped down on the puffy couch.
"Of course," he muttered under his breath, bowing down his head to tiredly rub his temples. "It would have been too good if Dumbledore was simply dead, once and for all."
A chuckle sprung forth from Grindelwald's lips, and Orion snapped his head up when he detected that there was a certain relieved cheerfulness in the wizard's laughter. It was satisfied and deeply felt, and something ugly tightened around Orion's chest. Furthermore, the wizard's mind seemed to be miles away, the man's eyes distant, as if looking into the horizon, the handsome, aged features oddly relaxed and content.
"You're glad he survived," whispered Orion, his gaze fixed on the wizard's face, as that ugly feeling reared its head once more inside him. He felt an increasing surge of anger, hurt, and –inexplicably- something he recognized as jealousy. His hands clenched into fists, and he yelled furiously, "WHY?! You knew all along that it was my intention to kill him, and you agreed – you wanted it yourself! And now… what?! You're happy that he's alive!"
Grindelwald's head snapped around to glance down at him, looking momentarily startled, as if he had forgotten where he was. Then, the wizard seemed to come back to present awareness, and a large smirk spread over his face, as he amusedly shook his head.
Taking down a seat, and nonchalantly crossing one leg over the other, he said calmly, "Ja, I'm glad Albus is alive. You, of all people, should understand why, mein junge." His smirk widened as he continued, "Let me answer now one of your numerous and rudely-asked questions. What you suspect is true, he and I bonded. It happened the day before the rather tragic evening in which Ariana died. It was a blood bond performed in a simple magical ritual. It didn't officially make us spouses, but rather… life companions. It was the sort of bond in vogue at that time, used by young couples, but with no serious repercussions. It was nothing like the magical bond you and Voldemort share, just simply what fiancés used before undergoing a more committing bonding ritual."
Amusement flickered across his face, and he added, "What can I say, mein junge? We were young, foolish, and hormone-driven teenagers who thought that our relationship would transcend every obstacle in our way. The bond simply meant that we were promising one to each other. And I didn't tell you about it because I never suspected that the bond's only effect still lingered. You see, the bond allows you to feel when your partner is alive, and his condition, no matter the distance. But it only works when… how should I put it? When the 'feelings' are still there." He let out a crow of chortling laughter, sounding smug, as he slapped a hand on his knee. "Of course, I never suspected that dear, old Albus still cared so much about me!"
Orion didn't know what expression he had on his face, but it must have been sour and angered, because the wizard arched an eyebrow, the amusement slightly fading from the man's face.
"Just now," said Orion acidly, "when you confirmed that he was alive, you used this bond to detect it, didn't you? So does that mean that you still have…" His lips curled, and he sneered, "Feelings for him? That you still love him?"
"Love?" interjected Grindelwald, his eyebrow rising even higher up, while his hawk-like eyes pierced into Orion's. "Who said anything about love? You misunderstand me completely, mein junge. I've never felt what I would call romantic love for anyone in my life. I have 'feelings' for Albus, sure, but I wouldn't call them 'love'. Love, as I understand it, is an emotion which weakens a person, constricting his liberty, clouding his judgment and all together negatively affecting a man's character. Oh, I could loosely apply the term and say that I 'love' him, as I have done once before, to you, but it wouldn't be what other people generally understand as love. Let me explain it to you, and I'm sure you'll see the parallelisms between our cases. Albus has always been my enemy and my life's partner, despite the distance and decades of estrangement. He's the only wizard I've ever truly been interested in, and the only one I could deign to be my equal in mind and magical prowess – not inferior or superior, but a true equal."
His eyes glinted with vicious contentment, as he added, "I'm the only one who can truly, deeply hurt him, and I revel in that knowledge. I'm deeply satisfied when I do so." He chuckled, shaking his head. "I'm a selfish being, mein junge. If someone is going to cause Albus pain, I want it to be me. If someone's going to decide when he dies, it's me. In that way, he's exclusively mine. And by telling me that he's still able to feel the bond between us, well, you just confirmed to me that he never stopped thinking about me, that he never found anyone who could compare to me, and that despite how much he has undoubtedly fought it, in his mind, he never stopped being mine."
The wizard shot him a wide smirk, and took a calm, brief sip from his scotch, before he murmured pointedly, "Doesn't this ring a bell, mein junge?"
Orion frowned at him. "If you're implying that my relationship with Voldemort is like that, then-"
"I'm mistaken?" interjected Grindelwald, hiding a dark grin behind his tumbler. "Really?" He pulled down the glass, cradling it in his hand, and continued loftily, "I have no doubt that he feels for you the things I've explained. That every time he hurts you, he revels in it. And, tell me, hasn't Voldemort always been both your enemy and life companion? Ever since you took that locket and befriended Tom Riddle, hasn't he been just that? Aren't you the only one who can truly cause him pain, and I'm not referring to the physical one. I'm referring that you can damage his psyche if you wanted to, if you took pleasure in it, as I do with Albus, if you liked to play in that way, knowing that only you can affect him so. That only you matter that much to him." He pierced him with his eyes, and added gravely, "And when the time comes, wouldn't you like that he died in the precise moment you did? Not long before or after, but as close as to your own death as possible? And that his death was carried either by your orders or your very own hands? Do you understand now why I'm glad that Albus has lived for one more day?"
He waved a hand, adding nonchalantly, "Oh, if you had killed him today I wouldn't have minded, since you're offing me tomorrow, but this rather expected outcome gives me a chance to see him one last time. And after I'm gone, I'm counting on you to dispatch him as soon as you can manage." He shot him a crooked smirk. "After all, if I'm to be floating about in the spiritual plane, as you Necromancers call it, then I want to have Albus by my side as soon as possible. All that time waiting to be reborn would be very tedious if I didn't have Albus to entertain me."
Orion blinked at him, not quite knowing what to make of it, or what to address first. "Er… you do understand that your soul will most probably lose all its memories, right? Perhaps not immediately but it will over time. I've already explained to you how it works, and… er … well, about Dumbledore entertaining you, I think you're forgetting that-"
"Oh, he'll want to be with me," interjected Grindelwald, flashing him a toothy grin. "After all, my soul has to be as charming as my mortal self, ja? How could it be otherwise? And about losing our memories, I'm sure our souls will manage to retain them if we want to." He clicked his tongue, sounding disappointed, as he added, "I know there can't possibly be any physical contact, since souls are basically immaterial, and it's a shame…" He sighed, shaking his head. "Indeed, it would be paradise if I could spend my eternity bedding him continuously. He was the best fu-"
"I don't want to hear it!" choked out Orion, his lips contorting into a grimace.
Grindelwald snorted. "Still so prudish-"
"I'm not," snapped Orion indignantly. "I simply don't want to hear about your sexual exploits with Dumbledore. Merlin, he's an old man!"
"Ja, it's a pity he never underwent any magical ritual to preserve his good looks and part of his youth," interjected Grindelwald, sounding remorseful. "You should have seen him when he was younger!"
Orion rubbed his forehead, feeling a bit out of his depth. Grindelwald had been in a strange, shifty mood ever since he had told the man about everything that had happened. And now he was starting to suspect that the wizard was drunk, given the carefree way the man was discussing such matters as his own death.
He forced his mind to get back on track, to the issues which mattered the most. But he recalled something which struck him as slightly suspicions, from the things that the older wizard had just said.
He pinned the wizard with a narrowed gaze, and demanded, "You said the outcome was expected, meaning Dumbledore's survival-"
"Of course," interrupted Grindelwald with a deep chuckle, arching an eyebrow. "I never expected you to kill Albus in your first attempt, mein junge. He's a lot tougher, resourceful, and slier than that. And that's a lesson I wanted you to learn; wizards like him are resilient." His lips curved into a wide smirk. "Admittedly, I didn't expect dear Albus to be so very well informed. It seems that we underestimated Slughorn and how much he knew, nein?"
"You think that Slughorn told Dumbledore about the Vindico test, in the posthumous letter?" said Orion quietly, his forehead scrunching in a deep, pensive frown.
"Ja, as I said, I know nothing about it except that the three Hallows are required, jointly," replied Grindelwald, looking untroubled and quite uninterested in the matter. "From what you've told me, it sounds as if Albus has an inkling about what the test involves, and I doubt that any other Aux Atrum has been his source. After all, none of them are told the specifics by the Spirits and they have no reason to want to betray the Vindico cause. Slughorn must have discovered it on his own, and probably, by accident."
Orion warily sighed, rubbing his forehead, as he mumbled, "It's possible, I suppose." Then, he snapped his head up, pinning the wizard with his gaze. "Can he destroy the Elder Wand? He threatened to do so-"
"Nein!" said Grindelwald, letting out an amused chortle. "Oh, I'm sure dear Albus has tried and will keep on trying, but he'll fail. Do you really think that Mordred and Morgana made the Peverells create magical artifacts which could be easily destroyed by anyone who felt like it?" A large, crooked smirk curved the man's lips. "Only the Master of the Hallows can destroy them-"
"But Dumbledore was the Master of the Elder Wand," interjected Orion, with a frown on his face, "before tonight."
Grindelwald's smirk widened, his hazel eyes sparkling with deviousness. "You're mistaken. He was never the Master of the Wand. Didn't I say that I handed the Wand over to him when he locked me up in Nurmengard? Didn't I tell you that he never defeated me in that duel, but that I surrendered?" He pierced him with his eyes, his tone of voice now smug, "You have been its Master ever since you defeated me during that training session, when you finally controlled your dark magic in its pure, wild state."
"What!?" choked out Orion, gaping at him, before an angry scowl spread over his features. "Then why didn't you tell me before? If I had known-"
"If you had known," interrupted Grindelwald placidly, "then you wouldn't have single-minded fought to obtain the Elder Wand, mein junge. You wouldn't have had one more reason to confront and kill him." He shot him a toothy grin. "And I wanted you to attempt to kill Albus as soon as could be."
"You're such a manipulative bastard," darkly grumbled Orion, briefly glaring at him. He bit his lower lip, and asked worriedly, "But then, if I hadn't broken you out of Nurmengard, Voldemort would have killed you, and the mastership of the Elder Wand would have passed to him. Weren't you and the Spirits worried that that could happen?"
"Think, mein junge, think," interjected Grindelwald impatiently, before he took a long sip from his tumbler, and shook his head. "If I had been killed, Voldemort wouldn't have defeated me, would he? Mastership of the Elder Wand passes along to the person who defeats its previous owner in a duel, meaning in a trade of curses and spells, no matter its duration or the spell used. A simple disarming spell suffices, if it strikes true and isn't blocked, and as long as it's used for offensive purposes, of course. If you hadn't broken me out from my cell and Voldemort would have arrived sooner, then I would have allowed him to kill me without doing anything to oppose it. In that way, the mastership of the Elder Wand wouldn't have passed to him, but the person who currently owned it – to Albus."
Orion's eyebrows shot to his hairline. "So that's the way it works? If no one defeats the Master of the Elder Wand and that person dies, then the Master becomes the person who has his hands on the Wand at that time?"
"Ja, precisely," replied Grindelwald, relaxedly leaning back against his chair, humming with contentment as he nursed his tumbler in his hands.
"I see," said Orion pensively. Then he snapped his head up to pierce the wizard with his eyes, as he demanded, "What about all the other stuff? What I asked you before?"
Grindelwald let out an annoyed grumble, waving his hand dismissively, as if speaking about such matters was a tedious endeavour for him. When he saw that the man shrugged his shoulders and was merely content in taking another long sip from his tumbler, Orion stared at him with a frown, and said shortly, "So?"
"So what?" countered Grindelwald with a bored tone of voice, arching an eyebrow.
"My answers!" bit out Orion, his tiredness effectively cutting short his temper and patience.
"This is my last night alive, mein junge," said the German wizard pointedly, leveling him with a reproachful gaze. "I don't want to spend it discussing serious matters. I won't be here to help you any longer and it's time you stop depending on me for answers." He shot him a lazy smirk. "I want to get drunk and enjoy some frivol entertainment. Indeed, you could finally take me out of this plush prison and take me somewhere amusing… I'm even willing to go to muggle London. Hmm, perhaps to some of those bars where-"
"Take you out, to muggle London?" interrupted Orion, gaping at him disbelievingly. He shook his head, and said heatedly,"It's your last night because you want it to be so, Gellert. I would have no problem in postponing the date in which I have to kill you. And then, I'll take you to wherever you feel like going, as long as you use a glamour, of course." He narrowed his eyes at the man, crossing his arms over his chest, fuming. "And I depend on you for answers because you have the answers to my questions! We're not going anywhere until I'm satisfied with the information you give me."
Grindelwald snorted, slumping against his backrest. "You don't look as if you could withstand a night of partying, anyway. You're about to drop from exhaustion. Go to sleep, mein junge, and tomorrow will be a bright, new day." He downed the rest of his scotch, flicked his wand to conjure another bottle, and added with a satisfied grin, "I'll stay here and entertain myself."
Orion was about to bit out a retort, trying to snap some sense into the wizard, when the door was abruptly yanked open. A disheveled Petra tottered inside, her face lined with tiredness, and with a no-nonsense and curt expression on her face.
"How is he?" immediately asked Orion, jumping to his feet and swiftly reaching her side, his heart suddenly thundering inside his chest.
"He's in a magically-induced healing coma," replied the witch, shooting Grindelwald a frown when the wizard widely grinned at her with a rather lethargic expression on his face. Her icy blue eyes snapped back to Orion, as if having dismissed the drunk, former Dark Lord in one glance, and not even wanting to know what had been going on in that room. She pinned Orion with a stern gaze as she continued, "The extent of his injuries was grave and widespread, and you were right, his mind is what was damaged the most." She deeply sighed, taking in a deep breath while she shook her head. "It's hard to tell what his condition will be when he wakes up. I did my best, and now it's up to his own magical core and the natural restorative capabilities of his body."
"But… but, what is to be expected?" said Orion frantically, tightly clutching her arm and shaking her for more answers. "Will he be as always? Will he…" Something lodged in his throat, and he swallowed thickly to clear it, before he whispered, "Will he be as cognizant as ever? His mind isn't permanently damaged, is it? Please, you must tell me something-"
"I simply don't know," interjected the witch curtly. "I gave the house-elf instructions, and it knows the times when to feed him the potions I prescribed. It agreed to watch over him at all times, taking shifts with another house-elf, I believe. The potions will help along his recovery, but I cannot promise that he'll be as functional as before, Mr. Black. The boy will wake up on his own, he mustn't be disturbed, and all you can do is wait until it happens. It could take days or weeks, and the longer it takes, the worse his state will be. And that state will be his permanent one. There's nothing else that can be done. Do you understand?"
"Yes," replied Orion numbly, feeling as if a large pit had abruptly torn open into his chest.
"It's my duty to report this, young man," said Petra, and when Orion's eyes widened, she swiftly added, her tone slightly assuaging, "Not about the Dark Mark I found on his forearm, that's none of my business and I would never notify the Aurors of his country or any other. I'm a dark witch after all, even though I don't agree with Death Eater views and politics. I meant that it's my duty to notify the Headmaster, whom I'm sure will expect an explanation of these circumstances. I won't demand it from you, since I rather not know."
"You're telling Vagnarov?" said Orion, biting his lower lip. Then, he shot her a wan smile, and said in a grateful tone of voice, "Of course, go ahead. And thank you for all your help, I won't forget it."
She curtly nodded at him, and the moment she leaned down to grasp the black, leather bag she had previously settled on the floor, Orion instantly whipped out his wand, and said in quick succession, "Obliviate! Stupefy!"
He caught her the second she toppled over, and he gently rested her on the nearest armchair. He was truly grateful to her, and he wouldn't have minded if she had told Vagnarov, but she had simply seen too much and he couldn't trust that she wouldn't tell anyone else.
He was about to snap his fingers to call for a house-elf, when a sarcastic voice drawled, "I see you have a way with the ladies, mein junge."
Orion glanced over his shoulder at Grindelwald, shooting the man a dour glare. Though, he saw that the wizard didn't look as sluggishly drunk as before. The man's eyes had recovered their hawk-like quality, and the handsome, aged features now held a grave expression.
"Oh, so the bad news regarding Draco have sobered you up?" he said acidly, before he snapped his fingers, and yelled, "Dobby!"
"I never lose my wits when I'm under the influence," said Grindelwald coolly, straightening up in his seat, yet Orion noticed that the wizard's movements were slow, lacking their usual smoothness and elegance. The wizard bore his eyes into Orion's, and murmured quietly, "Don't look at me like that, mein junge, so reproachfully and with such disappointment-"
"And what did you expect?" bit out Orion, fully turning around to confront him, while he impatiently waited for Dobby to show up. "I needed answers, and I needed your help and you decided that you preferred to enjoy your scotch, leaving me to figure out everything by myself! I know you won't be here next time to lend out a hand, but you're here now, Gellert!"
"Then tell me, how can I help you-?" Grindelwald was interrupted by Dobby's appearance, who popped into existence right between them, looking a bit perplexed.
Deciding to deal with the German wizard immediately after, Orion rounded on the house-elf and said crisply, "Where were you? If I call I expect you to come instantly!"
Dobby's eyes grew wide and watery, and Orion immediately regretted his harshness. He wasn't mad at the poor creature after all, he was simply angered at Grindelwald and very troubled about Draco; with his mind frantically searching for ways in which he could help his friend. It was clear to him that Petra hadn't been able to do enough, and now he had to find some other source of help. Though, he didn't know what else could help if not more of a healer's assistance, and that had proved to be insufficient.
"Dobby is very sorry, Master Orion, sir," stuttered out the house-elf, looking about to break into a cry in any second. "I is with Daisy, she telling me how to care for Master Draco-"
"You're the one who's going to help Daisy with that?" interrupted Orion, focusing back on the house-elf. Dobby nodded, and he added more gently, "Thanks Dobby, but you understand that his recovery is very important to me, don't you?" He gauged him closely as he continued, "I know that you've always disliked Draco but he means a lot to me-"
"Oh, Dobby never do anything which cause good Master Orion grief, sir!" exclaimed Dobby vehemently, his large ears bobbing frantically as he wrung his small hands together. "I know Master Draco is good friend of Master Orion's, sir, I take good care of him!"
"Good," said Orion warmly, settling a comforting hand on the creature's small shoulder. "I'm counting on you. Now, I have several other things to ask of you. See this witch over here?" He pointed at the unconscious Petra and her black, leather bag. "I want you to take her to Sølvanghøj village in Bornholm Island, to wherever the wards allow you to drop her. And you must send out some sparkles into the sky, making sure that someone in the village sees them and comes to inspect. The moment they find her, you can leave, and make sure that you aren't seen."
He plucked out his shrunk trunk from his pocket, and handed it over to Dobby, before he pointed at the Gryffindor Sword innocently lying on the low table, and then at the Cloak draped over Grindelwald's chair. "Before you leave, I want you to take that sword, my trunk, and that Invisibility Cloak into my bedroom. And besides taking care of Draco, I need you to go everyday to Black Manor to fetch any mail I'll surely be receiving. You'll have to work out a schedule with Daisy, so that you can do both things. Black Manor will surely be under surveillance, so be careful and always apparate directly inside. You'll dispose of any howlers, and only bring me back the letters and packages which are safe. I expect to receive soon a letter from Remus or Greyback, remember those names. It's a very important letter, which will contain a portkey I'll need to use, so the instant you see it, hand it to me. Will you remember all of this?"
"Yes, Master Orion, sir!" said Dobby immediately, rocking on his small feet, and clearly ecstatic about his new responsibilities.
"Thanks, Dobby, you can go."
The moment the house-elf promptly popped away, Orion dropped his warm smile and rounded back on Grindelwald. "You can help by answering each and every question I asked you before." The wizard opened his mouth, but Orion quickly rose up a hand, as he continued sharply, "But not now, I have something I must take care of. So sleep it off, Gellert, and I'll wake you up when I'm done."
"You'll attempt to save the Malfoy boy by some other means?" said Grindelwald quietly, his gaze intently fixed on Orion, who had swiftly started to make his way to the door. "What is it that you're planning on doing?"
"You really no longer care, do you?" shot Orion over his shoulder, his voice crisp, without halting his steps. "But, to answer your question, I'm going to write to Lezander, for the very first time since I found out he was alive."
"How do you expect the vampire boy to help-"
But Orion didn't hear the rest of the slightly alarmed question, since he was already out of the room, slamming the door shut, and then tiredly sprinting off to Potter Manor's master study.
The moment he was inside, he casted several wards on the door, which would keep Grindelwald away and block out the wizard's voice, in case the man decided to get off his bum to stop him from doing what he had already decided to be the only possible solution.
He slumped down on the grand, high-backed armchair, and quickly took out a fine piece of parchment and an inked quill from the first drawer of the ornate desk. Then, he rested his elbows on the top, and gazed down at the blank parchment. He looked at it numbly for several long minutes, constantly biting his lower lip, and without a clue of how to formulate the favor he was going to ask from Lezander. Not to mention, of course, that he didn't even know if the young vampire remembered everything about him, or anything about Draco. And if Lezander had, during all those long months, gotten back his memories, the vampire could still quite rightly refuse to help him.
Lezander and Draco had never gotten along; in fact, they had profoundly disliked each other since the moment they met. Added to that was the fact that he hadn't written to Lezander in all that time, though he had used the blood-spell Râzvân had taught him to send Evander's, Viktor's, and Kara's letters to him, and that surely hadn't settled well with the young vampire. He knew, from his friends, that Lezander had replied back to them, sending the letters back by standard owl, but Lezander hadn't written to him. And he didn't know, either, what his former boyfriend had written to Evander, Viktor or Kara, since they never offered the information and he had never asked.
And now, to ask such a favor, out of the blue… Orion sighed and roughly rubbed his forehead. He didn't regret not writing to Lezander. The truth was that, before, he wasn't ready to see the young vampire. And afterwards, when everything startled crumbling in his relationship with Voldemort, when he discovered more things about the Kraljica Mati, and when Connolly had revealed to him that vampires had life mates and that he certainly was Lezander's, he had fiercely longed to see Lezander again but he knew that writing letters wouldn't be enough. He only wanted to discuss matters personally, face-to-face, and with time enough to spend several days with him. That's why he had postponed those matters for when he finally went to Zraven Citadel during the summer holidays, to undergo his training in vampire fighting under Cyprian's tutelage, and to renew his broken allegiance with the Zravens.
Moreover, what he would ask of Lezander was something he knew that most vampires would flatly refuse to do. It was quite simple; he had the intention to ask Lezander for a small vial containing his blood. This solution had been on the edge of his mind ever since Petra had told him that there wasn't much she could further do for Draco. He had instantly remembered a case in which someone he loved had seemed to be about to die. It had been when Voldemort had merged with locket-Tom's piece of soul, to undo the damaged he had done to himself when making one extra horcrux.
He had thought, at that time, that the wizard wouldn't survive the ritual, though he knew better now, and Voldemort had shortly afterwards informed him with a smirk that it hadn't been necessary for him to give him his blood. Though, there was no doubt that his blood, already containing Lezander's, had helped Voldemort to recover more quickly. Given Draco's much graver case, he knew that giving the boy his blood wouldn't be enough. He needed pure vampire blood, right from the source, and not whatever diluted Zraven blood lingered in his veins.
Nevertheless, a number of doubts still swirled in his mind regarding his plan. Lezander had told him, long ago, that vampires would only share their blood with their partners, and now he knew that the boy had really meant with their life mates. That's why, according to Lezander, Râzvân had furiously refused to give Voldemort his blood when the wizard had demanded it as part of the terms of their tentative allegiance, during Voldemort's first rise. That demand broke negotiations between the parts, leaving Râzvân highly suspicious and angered at Voldemort and refusing to ever consider making the Zraven vampires loyal to a wizard who would unyieldingly and superiorly demand such a sacrifice from the ruler of a vampire clan.
Therefore, he wondered about the consequences there would be if he fed Draco Lezander's blood. Would Draco and Lezander be bonding in some way? And since he himself had taken Lezander's blood, would it bond the three of them together? On the other hand, he slightly remembered that Lezander had once told him that if a vampire shared his blood with someone who wasn't their partner, and without the use of any bonding spells, then that it wouldn't have any significant consequences… Yet, he wasn't quite sure if he remembered that information correctly…
Orion frowned and bit his lower lip again. It was best to assume, for the sake of making a decision, that the most grave scenario would be the one to happen. Thus, he had to ask himself if he would mind if there were any permanent consequences, namely Lezander bonding to Draco by blood. And his instant answer was that he didn't mind, not if it meant that Draco would recover fully, not if it meant that his friend would have all his mental faculties intact.
So what if it bonded Lezander and Draco, or the three of them? He was already bonded to Lezander and to Draco separately, so it made little difference. Moreover, the one who really had to know the consequences was Lezander, and the young vampire would surely refuse if it meant that it would bond him to Draco. So he would simply have to depend on Lezander's reply, if the young vampire wrote back at all, which wasn't certain.
At last, feeling absolutely determined and decided, no matter what would result of it, he started to write the brief letter. He didn't mention the issues lingering between them, nor any personal matters, he simply wrote what had happened to Draco, the gravity of the boy's condition, and his beseech for Lezander's help, requesting a vial containing some of his blood. It was brief and to the point, nothing revealing his emotions or sentiments except his plea for Draco's sake. Once done, he didn't even reread it. He simply quickly used a letter-opener to prick his fingertip, allowing a single drop of blood to splat on the parchment, and he swiftly waved his wand at it and muttered the spell.
Instantly, the letter disappeared with a muted 'pop', and Orion nervously drummed his fingers on the desk's top. The minutes seemed to stretch indefinitely, while he received no reply, nothing popping into existence before him. And his belief that Lezander still didn't remember everything about his life, previous to the Veil-incident, started to solidify. Surely the young vampire would have answered by now if he fully remembered about their past relationship, and about Draco. Wouldn't he? Or perhaps he did but was too angered?
After twenty minutes had passed, feeling more despondent and impotent than ever, Orion gave up all his hopes. He couldn't come up with any other solution, this had been the last ace under his sleeve, and he simply didn't know who could help improve Draco's situation. It seemed that Petra had been right, there was nothing that could be done except wait for Draco to wake up from his healing coma and then see what his condition was.
Orion finally stood up, grim, grieved, but also lacking any energy to do anything but reach the nearest bed in order to fall into a deep slumber and forget all his worries and troubles for until the next morning. He would ask Grindelwald his questions then, he certainly didn't feel up to it at present. It was as if all his anger and every other emotion had swiftly started to leak out from him. He felt empty, exhausted, and dully numbed.
With a flick of his wand, he snuffed out the lone candle in the study and slowly closed the door once he crossed the threshold. It was then, just when he was turning the doorknob to click the door shut, when he heard it, a dim popping sound which he at first thought to be a product of his imagination. With his heart pumping fast in his chest, he immediately sprung forward into the study once again, wildly flicking his wand to light the single candle once more. And then he saw it; a rolled parchment swaying gently in midair before it settled quietly on top of the desk.
He could hardly believe it, but he wasted no time in unrolling the piece of parchment. And from it swirled down a tiny glass vial which was tied to the upper edge of the letter by a thin string. The vial was full to the brim in what could only be blood, given its deep, dark red hue, and its thick consistency. Orion carefully pocketed the small vial, before his gaze quickly ran along the two short sentences written in the parchment, feeling as if his heart was about to pop out his throat.
His eyes widened, and he plopped down on the chair, almost missing the seat, while he was suddenly assaulted by an influx of rushing emotions. In Lezander's cursive and long-stroked calligraphy, the letter read: 'I want to see you. Please.'
That was it, no questions asked and nothing demanded in return. It was something truly Lezander-like in its unselfishness, and Orion found himself enveloped in a kind of warm happiness he hadn't felt in a very long time, a sort of comforting and protective sensation snuggly wrapping around his chest.
Feeling extremely relieved as he thought what this meant for Draco's chances for a recovery, a wide smile spread over his face as he immediately jotted down his reply: 'Thank you .You will. I'll be there in two weeks.'
And with that, he smudged a drop of his blood on the letter and casted the spell once more. As soon as the letter disappeared, he jumped to his feet and rushed out from the study. Panting heavily but no longer caring about sleeping or not, he didn't stop until he reached the bedroom in which he had left Draco. He yanked the door open and hurtled inside, seeing that Daisy was keeping watch over Draco, the little house-elf perched on a small stool, her gaze worriedly fixed on the unconscious boy.
Orion wasted no time, and as soon as he reached the bed, he ordered swiftly, "Please leave us alone, Daisy. Attend to your other duties in the meanwhile and I'll call you back once I'm done."
Potter Manor's chief house-elf nodded, in a rather unusually subdued manner given her bossy nature, and without a word, she popped away. It seemed that she understood the gravity of the situation and Petra must have worked her hard as well.
He carefully sat on the edge of the bed, and his troubled and worried gaze travelled along Draco's body, as he gently tucked away one platinum lock of hair, his fingertips then brushing along a pale cheek. Draco's skin was cold under his touch, the boy's lips were almost white, tinted with a blue hue, and the chiseled face was gaunt and extremely pale, the skin looking almost transparent, with black circles under the closed eyes. The boy's thin chest was wrapped in thick bandages, covering the deep gashes he had seen before, and the breathing sounded shallow but also labored. If it wasn't for the sound of Draco's breathing, he would have thought that the boy was already dead.
Orion deeply sighed and stopped caressing the boy's face to pluck out the small vial from his pocket. He glanced down at it, biting his lower lip. If it worked, if Draco recovered with no impaired mental faculties or physical disabilities, there was no doubt that the boy would be furious with him anyway, given that Draco would have some degree of vampiric traits. Added to that, he would have to explain to the Malfoys that their pureblooded son carried a halfbreed's blood in his veins; that wouldn't go over well. And, perhaps, Draco would find himself being blood-bonded. But again, Lezander would have said something in his letter if that would be a consequence, wouldn't he? And surely everyone would rather see Draco fully recovered, no matter the repercussions.
Well, he would shoulder all responsibility and to hell with their pureblooded despise of halfbreeds. Without any second thoughts, he gently parted Draco's blue lips, unstoppered the small vial and brought its brim to the boy's lower lip, tilting the vial. As the blood thickly trickled into the young wizard's mouth, Orion used his other hand to massage the boy's throat, to make him swallow what was being poured down. Once the vial was completely empty, he vanished it with a wave of his hand, and focused back on Draco's face, with his heart loudly beating in his chest.
His breath hitched when he saw that, ever so slowly, some color began creeping in the boy's face. A pale pink blossomed in Draco's lips and cheeks, but nothing else happened. The silvery eyes didn't open, the breathing remained as shallow as ever, and not a muscle twitched.
Orion exhaled and rubbed his forehead. Well, what did he expect, a miraculous recovery? It would take time, and Draco was still under the magically-induced healing coma. Now, all he could do was wait until the boy woke up on his own, and Merlin knew when that would happen.
Suddenly, the door banged open, and Orion snapped his head around in startlement, just to see Snape stalking into the room, with a dark expression brooding on his face as he was being led in by Daisy. She disappeared the minute the wizard shot her a glowering glance, and then Snape momentarily halted his long strides to take in the scene with narrowed eyes, before he snarled, "Where's the healer? Didn't I tell you that he would require one?"
Before Orion got a chance to reply, Snape was already towering by the bedside, a beam of light shooting from the man's wand to encompass Draco's body.
"He's in a healing coma?" hissed out Snape, glaring down at Orion. "That won't mend all the damage he has sustained, you imbecilic child! And where is the healer-"
"I did bring one, but she has already left," interrupted Orion shortly, holding up a hand to forestall the wizard's tirade. "There wasn't much she could do anyway-"
"Then you should have fetched another," snarled the Potions Master, "and then another, until you found one who could do something for him! You should have moved heaven and earth until you found proper assistance. I entrusted you with the life of my godson-"
"You think that I simply sat on my arse after she told me that she could do nothing else?" bit out Orion incensed. "I didn't, I-"
"You what?" demanded Snape harshly, narrowing furious eyes at him. "I see no healers bustling around, I see no one here who can possibly do anything-"
"Bloody hell, will you let me finish my sentences?" spat Orion with angered exasperation. "I… I got a potion for him. I'm positive that it will help him make a full recovery."
"A potion?" sneered Snape. "There's no potion that can-"
"I gave him something, alright!" snapped Orion shortly, scowling at the man. "Don't ask what because I won't tell you until he wakes up and I see what his condition is."
"What have you done?" demanded Snape sharply, narrowing his eyes at him.
Orion met the man's eyes with a hard gaze of his own, and he didn't beep a word. He wasn't about to tell the wizard about Lezander's blood. Knowing Snape, the wizard would suspect Lezander's motives, probably believing it to be full of ill-intentions, and then the man would demand to know if any bonds would be formed, and he simply didn't have an answer for that. Nor did he want to deal with that at present. He had other more pressing issues on his mind.
"How are the Malfoys?" he asked promptly. "What has been going on at your end?"
"The Malfoys are as well as they can be, given the circumstances," said Snape callously. "I tended to Lucius and now he's in a much needed rest. Of course, in a moment of lucidity he demanded to know what had happened to Draco, as did Narcissa. I told them he was with you." He pierced him with his eyes, and added sharply, "And Lucius demands a meeting with you. Obviously, the Dark Lord knows nothing of this and it has to remain that way. Furthermore, it cannot take place at Malfoy Manor, it has been seized by the Dark Lord. Riddle Manor has been completely evacuated."
"Well, isn't this just peachy," grumbled Orion sarcastically, as he carded his fingers through his hair. "Fine, I'll meet Lucius, but it will be in my turf. He'll surely be furious at me, given that he must know by now that I was Harry Potter and all that stuff." He glanced up at the wizard, and said warningly, "But not a word about the consangri ritual that my mum and James subjected me to, nor of this Manor. Tell him that I'll see him at Durmstrang, seven days from now. I'll make a portkey and give it to you-"
"Durmstrang?" hissed Snape, his tone then turning jeeringly derisive. "Do you believe that you can freely move about? Draco, you and I will undoubtedly be in the Aurors' Most Wanted list. You cannot show your face in any country ruled by a Light Ministry of Magic, nor in the wizarding communities which are supposedly controlled by dark wizards. Durmstrang lies within Danish territory, and despite that Denmark has a Ministry of Magic controlled by the Dark, they have remained neutral in the past, never taking any sides in wizarding wars. If you are seen, you'll be captured and most probably extradited and flung into the hands of English Aurors. As a matter of fact, you shouldn't step out of this Manor. No one besides Lupin, Grindelwald and your mutt of a father knows that it has been reconstructed and that you have access to it, and the wards will keep you and Draco safe."
Orion gazed at him disbelievingly, before he said curtly, "I know that I have to lie low, but I'm not staying put, Severus. I have countless things to do. And Durmstrang is safe. Even if the Danish Ministry has jurisdiction over Bornholm Island, they don't over the school. The Board of Governors is comprised by high official of several European Dark-oriented Ministries, and all of them would have to agree unanimously to have me expelled or captured within the school's walls. And even if they did, do you think that the wards would allow them? The school's wards were casted by Morgana and Mordred, pilling up over the centuries, and I bet you anything that the Spirits wouldn't stay still if anyone tried to capture me or launch an assault on the castle. Durmstrang is the safest place there is."
When the wizard was about to interject something obviously snappish, he held up a hand, and continued, "Not that I'm planning on hiding there. I'm not going to hide at all. I'll be careful but I won't lock myself in someplace. I was forced to spend all year attending Hogwarts and thus, I couldn't go to any of the Dark Allies Meetings. I've missed what has been going on with their plans, and you couldn't tell me due to the confidentiality spell that Voldemort always casts at such gatherings. But I'm attending them from now on. Voldemort still considers me his ally, after all-"
"Not for long," interrupted Snape with a harsh scoff. "He'll assuredly figure out that you were the one to snatch Draco away." He pierced him with his eyes, and added sharply, "I have no doubt that the Dark Lord is still looking for the Elder Wand and he'll discover what the Hallows are, eventually. For how long do you think that you can keep your secrets from him? Months, at the most, and then how are you planning on keeping the Hallows away from him, or on keeping yourself alive once he knows that he has the capacity to absorb your dark magic if he kills you?" He pulled up to his full height, and stated acidly, "It's quite clear that you'll have no other choice but to kill him, no matter what your sentiments are."
Orion narrowed his eyes at the man, before his shoulders slumped and he let out a troubled sigh. "I'll deal with those things when they happen. I'll figure out how to make sure that he doesn't feel the need to break our alliance, or to attempt to kill me."
"Pigheaded, idiotic child," said Snape crisply. "Don't tell me later that I didn't warn you. The sooner you kill him, the better." He shot him a dour glare, before he flicked his wand, conjuring a spartan chair, and sat down. Piercing him with a demanding stare, he said sharply, "Explain what happened tonight."
Momentarily, Orion glanced at Draco, before he conjured a chair as well, and then proceeded to relate to the wizard the happenings of that night. Nevertheless, he did it as briefly as he could, without sharing as many details as he had with Grindelwald. He didn't tell the man what he had done to Hermione Granger, nor that Trewlawney was an Aux Atrum; the wizard didn't need to know those things. Moreover, as with Grindelwald, he certainly didn't mention that he had known how to project his thoughts into Snape's mind because he remembered how the man had done it to Regulus. Only Vagnarov knew what Cadmus had unleashed in his mind, before it was blocked, and it was staying that way. For Snape, Sirius, or Lucius to know that he had been Regulus would only be complicating matters. As it was, he was a bit nervous about his meeting with Lucius; he certainly wasn't looking forward to it.
"And I'm going to write to Remus," finished Orion, shooting a warning glance at Snape, "to tell him that we're going to Lycaon in a week, to hold a meeting between him, my dad, you and I. So you'll have to swallow your dislike for werewolves, Severus, and I don't want any bickering between you and my father. We'll have to plan what to do next. Moreover, I'm going to ask Remus to invite the Alphas of the packs of continental Europe." He scowled, and grumbled darkly, "Voldemort is trying to snatch them away from me and I'm not going to let him, no matter how many potions he tempts them with."
With a sour expression still lingering on his face, Snape snorted. "You should have expected it. You cost him his allegiance with the Dementors, brat. It was only logical that he would seek to steal your allies from you; an-eye-for-an-eye, I would call it." He pinned him with his gaze, and added sharply, "It was moronic of you to use the time-turner, and to interfere so-"
"As I told you, it broke and I'm not going to rely on one again," interrupted Orion shortly. "Besides, without it everything would have been worse. Merlin knows what graver mess we would have in our hands and how many would have died or been captured."
He waved a hand, dismissing the subject, and then bore his eyes into the wizard's black ones, as he said quietly, "Dumbledore is alive. I got it out of Gellert while we were waiting for my Healing professor to finish tending to Draco."
Snape remained silent as he leaned against his chair's backrest, and finally said calmly, "Dumbledore's survival doesn't surprise me." He frowned, and said sharply, "I assume that you interrogated Grindelwald about what Dumbledore told you. What-"
"He hasn't explained, yet," interrupted Orion, his expression turning darkly miffed. "He's acting very weirdly."
"Quite," said Snape dourly. "Right after I apparated in and started to look around for you, I found Grindelwald dozing happily in an unmistakably drunken stupor. Care to explain?"
"That's just it," said Orion, with an annoyed frown on his face, "I don't know why he's acting like that, as if he no longer cared about anything. Unless…" His frown deepened, and he glanced up at the wizard. "Actually, I think I do know. It's his way of going on strike."
"On strike?" interjected Snape flatly, one black eyebrow arching.
"Um, yeah," said Orion slowly, his frown clearing and turning into a scowl. "I think it's his way of demonstrating that even if I postpone killing him, he'll no longer help me with anything. It's his way of telling me that our deal has concluded, that I gain nothing by keeping him alive, and that he's going to be a nuisance until I keep my end of the bargain and kill him."
"I see," said Snape indifferently. "Then get him to tell you what you want to know and then do it. You knew the day would come. The last thing we need is to be on guard in case a former, mass-murdering Dark Lord decides that he wants to rehash his days of glory." He narrowed his eyes, and added sharply, "Have you forgotten what that wizard could do? You have two Hallows and-"
"I know," interrupted Orion stiffly, "but he wants me to kill him tomorrow and that's too soon. He's still very useful and I can persuade him to keep helping me for a bit longer."
Snape's eyes narrowed to slits, and he snarled, "You're only making up excuses because you've stupidly become fond of that man. He's a dangerous liability, and the threat he represent to you will only increase in time." He swiftly leaned forward and captured Orion's chin in his hand, as he demanded sharply, "You must kill him. Will you?"
Orion frowned at him, and said quietly, "Yes."
"Tomorrow?" pressed on Snape, his voice harsh, his gaze hard and piercing.
Shooting him a glare, Orion wrenched free from the wizard's grasp, and he bit out, "Yes, tomorrow, but only because that's what he wants. I'll still try to change his mind before then."
"And you'll fail," interjected Snape, his lips curling upwards with deep satisfaction.
Orion heatedly glowered at him. "You could at least pretend to-"
"To what?" said Snape with a harsh snort. He leveled him with a gauging gaze, and then sneered, "Oh, I know what he means to you, but I see him for what he truly is. I have no doubt that your tender heart will break once you kill him, and that you'll be mopping around for several days after, but I cannot pretend that I won't be deeply content to see him gone."
"Stuff it, Severus," hissed out Orion, his eyes flashing with anger. "I won't mope and my heart won't break. If I do it, it will be with my eyes open, and knowing that it's for the best."
"We'll see after tomorrow, won't we?" silkily drawled Snape, nastily smirking at him.
"Yeah, whatever," bit out Orion, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning back on his chair as he shot the man a glare. "I find that I'm too tired to put up with you for longer, Severus. But there's still one issue I want to discuss with you. What will Dumbledore do?"
Snape scoffed. "Silly child, how should I know-"
"Guess," spat Orion, short-tempered.
Snape's expression darkened, and he said sharply, "You know as much as I do about what his plans were, but it seems that your pea-sized brain is too lazy to ponder about the possible paths that Dumbledore will take. This time, I'll oblige, because I know that you've had a long day." He pierced him with his gaze, and said curtly, "It's rather obvious what would benefit Dumbledore the most: to play dead. According to you, Moody has already spread around that he saw how you shot the Killing Curse at Dumbledore, so it's fair to assume that every wizarding newspaper is going to be buzzing with the news that you murdered the old man. And Dumbledore will make the most of it. If everyone believes him dead, it will, of course, dampen light wizards' morale but it the long run it would mean-"
"That those light wizards who have previously remained neutral or uninvolved will have no other choice but to actively support their side in the war," interrupted Orion, a troubled, pensive frown spreading over his forehead. "People will even start enrolling in the Order, since now there isn't anyone to save their hides for them. I'm on the Dark's side and as far as they know Dumbledore's dead - there's no one there to dispose of Voldemort for them. So they will have no other choice but to get off their bums and do something to defend themselves."
Snape's lips curled. "Precisely."
"And the same will happen in the greater sphere of international politics, won't it?" mused Orion, biting his lower lip while his frown deepened. "Those countries which were neutral but Light-oriented will have to support the current English Ministry of Magic, since they know that if they don't send their own Auror forces to this country, then Voldemort would easily take over, since they'll believe that there's no Dumbledore left to oppose him." His eyes widened as he stared at the wizard, and he snapped worriedly, "Bloody hell, I see it now. Dumbledore will gain a lot by pretending that I really killed him. And he'll surely work behind the scenes to get more allies. He'll probably make McGonagall or someone like that take over the Order, making her go around negotiating allegiances while spouting that they need help because the old goat kicked the bucket. And Light allies will flow to them, worried that if England is taken over by the Dark that their countries will soon follow. So what's our best course of action, then? Should I deny that I killed him-"
"You should play along," interjected Snape coolly.
Orion blinked at him. "Come again?"
Snape muttered under his breath, foul-tempered, and then leveled him with a piercing gaze. "Given what you've told me, it's seems that Dumbledore hasn't lost the hope that he can bring you to the Light's side. This counts to your benefit. Moreover, given the way the Aurors worked along with the Order, it looks as if Dumbledore and Scrimgeour have joined forces. Thus, Dumbledore will notify Scrimgeour that he's alive, and unlike Fudge, this Minister isn't a fool. He'll secretly work with Dumbledore, and the old man's continued existence will probably be revealed-"
"At some important battle," interrupted Orion, nodding at him. "Yeah, I thought as much. It would immensely boost the morale of the light wizards in the battlefield, raising their hopes, and thus making them fight more fiercely and fervently. But I don't see how it benefits me to publicly pretend that I killed Dumbledore." He shook his head and fisted his hands in anger. "I would be doing what Dumbledore wants! Wouldn't it be best if I revealed that he's alive-"
"And who would believe you?" snarled Snape impatiently. "Light wizards' opinion about you, the Boy-Who-Lived, has always shifted with the fickle currents of whatever is printed in the newspapers. You're going to be pegged as Dumbledore's murderer and anything you say will be construed as lies given with sole intention to save yourself from Auror persecution." He pierced him with narrowed eyes, and added sharply, "You will not be able to change that and if you attempt to give any interviews the Aurors will be instantly notified and you'll be captured-"
Orion scoffed. "I'm not stupid, I wasn't planning on-"
"And," continued Snape, his voice growing even harsher, tinted with a hint of a sneer, "you can take advantage of the negative publicity. Haven't you spent this whole year whining about having to pretend to be a good, little Gryffindor? I thought you would have been ecstatic at finally being able to drop your charade to show your true colors. Don't you see the amount of fearful speculation that's going to brew around you? To light wizards, you were their savior, the one who felled the Dark Lord when you were a baby and the one expected to do so again. Now they'll know that you've joined forces with the Dark Lord and they'll be more fearful than ever-"
"Of course they will," snapped Orion, glaring at the man. "I know all that. I wasn't going to pretend to still support the Light, Severus. As you say, I'm finally free to show my true colors and that's exactly what I'll do. I don't mind light wizards believing that I killed Dumbledore, but I won't lie to my allies. I will tell the DA the truth, and obviously, I must tell Voldemort since he and I must plan together our next steps." He scowled, and added shortly, "As a matter of fact, I want you to tell him that I want to attend the next Dark Allies Meeting. Surely they'll press to have one, but make sure that it takes place in a week or so, not before. Don't say that you've seen me, of course. Tell him that I sent you a patronus message, since I'm supposedly still looking for Draco."
"Fine. But why in a week and not before?" demanded Snape sharply, narrowing his eyes at him. "What stupidity are you planning now?"
Orion glared, and bit out, "Nothing. I'm simply going to be…" He grimaced as he thought about the week of disintoxication before him. "… indisposed." He shot the wizard a hard gaze, and added curtly, "And that's all you need to know."
Snape's eyes narrowed to slits, as the man intently gauged him, but in the next second the wizard seemed to decide that endeavoring to get more out of him was a lost battle. And Orion smirked at him, since it was obvious that Snape knew that in stubbornness no one beat him.
"Very well," said Snape crisply, as he crossed his arms over his slim chest and shot him a hard glance. "I'm sure you have much to think about, but before I leave, I want to know what you plan to do about Draco if he fully recovers."
Orion puzzledly frowned at him. "What I plan to do about Draco? What on earth do you mean?"
Snape's nostrils flared, and he hissed out as he pointed an accusing finger at him, "He became your responsibility the moment you stepped between him and the Dark Lord, the moment you saved him. I'm spying on Voldemort for you, I'll be under his constant scrutiny, and so will the Malfoys. Therefore, it's obvious that we cannot hide or protect him. That will be your duty."
"Yes, I know that," muttered Orion.
"He won't survive if you're not there to help him."
Orion glanced up at him, his frown deepening, and he bit out, "I know."
"He's going to be hunted down by Aurors and by Death Eaters-"
"I know, Severus!" snapped Orion hotly. "I know all of that. I'm perfectly aware of what his situation will be!"
"Then do explain," snarled Snape, narrowing his black eyes at him, like a snake about to strike down a daft, feeble-minded pray, "why you're planning on leaving him alone for three months."
Orion's eyes widened, and he gasped out, "How do you know that?"
"Please," scoffed Snape sneeringly, "you've told Lupin, your mutt of a father, Grindelwald and I, all about your giddy eagerness to go to Zraven Citadel for a whole month during these summer holidays. Not to mention that you'll undoubtedly want to undergo this Necromantic training, which you refuse to give details about, right after that. And it takes two months, doesn't it? So during that time-period, where will Draco live and how are you planning to make sure that he's safe?"
Orion frowned pensively, and at last said quietly, "I think we both know that the safest place for Draco is this very Manor-"
"Yes," interrupted Snape sharply, "but he shouldn't be left alone."
"I was going to say that as well, if you would have let me finish," snapped Orion hotly, his patience with the man having blown out the window a long time ago. "Look, I have some ideas in mind, but I'll tell you once everything is settled."
"Very well," said Snape curtly, swiftly standing up to tower over him, pinning him with a hard gaze. "I'll tell the Dark Lord that you want to attend the next Dark Allies Meeting, but you can't avoid him forever, brat. He's expecting you to come back with news of who took Draco and he's expecting you to return the Gaunt ring to him. The longer you avoid him, the worse it will be for all of us."
Orion sulkily scowled at him. "I'm not…" He sighed, and carded his fingers through his hair. "Fine, I am avoiding him. As you said, I have many secrets to keep from him and he already knows more than I would like. I simply don't know how to keep fooling him."
"Either kill him," hissed out Snape impatiently, "or, if you moronically insist on postponing the inevitable, think of something that will assuage his suspicions and stop whining."
And with that, the wizard swiftly stalked towards the door, with black robes billowing behind him, as if spending another minute with such daft company was a waste of his valuable time.
"Bastard," grumbled Orion under his breath.
Snape shot him a narrowed glance over the shoulder, and Orion immediately spread a dazzling smile over his face, gingerly waving a hand at him. The wizard's expression soured, the man's lips curling, before he left the room, slamming the door shut.
Smirking, for rubbing Snape the wrong way was always fun, Orion stood up and once more reached the bed. He gazed down at Draco, and seeing no other sign of improvement except some color in the boy's face, he sighed.
He trailed his fingertips along Draco's cheek, and a pensive frown spread over Orion's forehead, as he said quietly, "A diamond in the brute, eh? A worthy and loyal right-hand…"
Shaking his head, he dropped his hand away. He would think about that later. Besides, it still remained to be seen what Draco's condition would be once the boy woke up. Without another thought, he promptly called for Daisy and once she popped in to continue watching over Draco, he immediately left the room.
He found Grindelwald in the same sitting room he had left him in. The wizard was slumped on an armchair, dozing off; the man's handsome, aged features completely relaxed, as if he had no worries in the world.
Orion conjured a blanket and draped it over the slumbering wizard. Then, he gazed at him in silence for a while, and at last, feeling tired and overburdened, he brushed away a blond and gray curl of hair from the wizard's face, and whispered curtly, "Fine, Gellert, you win. I'll kill you tomorrow."
He spun around and made way to his bedroom, too exhausted to care about anything except getting a good night sleep, since the next day would change many things. And in parting, he missed the small, satisfied smile which tugged Grindelwald's lips.
