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.
Chapter 24
…Wizards fiercely fighting against wizards in the midst of the night… dark creatures, vampires, werewolves, attacking and ripping limbs, the flash and clink of swords… screams and wails of pain and shouted incantations… there was magic pulsing in the air, vibrating all around them… the carnage was brutal… and in the midst, a lone figure, untouched by the violence and surrounded by wizards and creatures who fought in front of him, as if creating a protective circle around him…
"Yes…yes," whispered an enticing, lulling voice, "come to me, my child… I'm waiting… longing for you… so close…"
A handsome, cold, and ruthless face with intense all-black eyes which surveyed the carnage in front of him with impassivity... A fear-gripping, powerful aura of dark magic pulsed violently around him…
….A wizard with black hair and green eyes was cradling a baby in his arms, a beautiful baby girl with wisps of black hair, her eyes closed while he lovingly rocked her, his body trembling, hunched protectively, while his green eyes were unfocused, tormented, pained, and brokenly sorrowful…
…Wizards and creatures ran into a battle, a wizard continuously swished his wand through the air… His raw magic funneled into a massively destructive force which flooded outward like a wave intent on destroying everything in its path… Dark magic shot from his hands, striking enemies within reach… torn bodies soon dropping dead with a last agonizing scream…
"Feel it," whispered the enticing voice, "See it… after today, you'll be one step closer, my child…"
A frenetic chant that became louder with each heart beat… like drums being banged wildly, increasing in tempo, as two words were repeated by a large crowd of eager voices… "Lord Black… Lord Black… Lord Black…"
Intense, all-black eyes looked unfeelingly at a weakened wizard. "Just tell me why, Tom..."
…An old woman raked a long, sharp fingernail across a wizard's cheek, his green eyes wide, observing her, as his skin broke along the fine cut, small drops of blood dribbling down his jaw.
Her intense obsidian eyes glowed while she smudged her fingertip with his blood, bringing it her mouth. A red tongue flicked out and quickly licked the blood from her fingertip, and she closed her eyes, slightly tilting her head backwards.
"Hmm… Perfection… at last… I've waited for you…" she whispered in a low, deep and eerie voice, her words cutting through the deadly silence of the room…
"Why, you ask? Is it not plain enough to you, Orion?" Crimson eyes flashed in anger and fury, but also with an unvoiced plea. "I DID IT FOR US! -- I DID IT FOR YOU!" The wizard shakily advanced forwards and clasped the other wizard's shoulders. "I ASK YOU TO SAVE SOME PART OF US!"
"You did it for yourself," said the other wizard, his voice cold, unforgiving, his all-black eyes glowing.
…A chant became reverent, high-pitched and eager as the fighting continued… voices became zealous, fervent and feverish as they screamed a name as if it was their battle-cry, while swords were plunged and dark curses bellowed… "Lord Black!… Vindico!… Vindico!… Vindico!…"
"Yes," whispered the enticing voice, "… accept it… fulfill it… this is you, my child… I'm waiting…"
…A tall young man with long black hair and slightly slanted pale blue eyes was softly kissing a wizard slumped against a wall, green eyes wide and dazed as the other deepened the kiss hungrily, demandingly, but also gently. There was warmth, belonging, and urgency as their clothed bodies writhed together, each gripping the other closer.
Pale blue eyes darkened with need. "Do you feel it – our blood bond calling us to complete it? This was meant to be, dragostea mea. I won't let you go again. I will not lose you again. I can't."
Incisors sharpened and elongated, and they sank into the smaller wizard's neck, green eyes glazing with fevered need and desire before they rolled, and the wizard sagged against the taller young man who moaned and kept drinking...
"I've allowed you to live for this long because of what we once shared," said a toneless, ruthless voice, all-black eyes cold. "I can't afford to postpone it any longer. It would always end like this, Tom."
"I'm waiting, my child," whispered the enticing voice. "You're almost ready… come to me…"
…An intense, black blast of magic seemed to plunge into a wizard's chest, as if a hand was gripping something inside and pulling it out. The wizard violently convulsed, his crimson eyes wide, and he screamed in agony as his flesh started to be ripped apart by the black magic coming from a wizard with cold, unemotional all-black eyes.
The air became unbearably heavy as the dark magic finally pulled a ghostly shape from the wizard's body, and with a last agonizing scream, the wizard dropped to the ground, his corpse only a torn mass of flesh, the crimson eyes wide, empty and lifeless...
The remaining wizard's hands shook as the trapped ghostly form began to violently twist; unearthly, high-pitched wails and shrieks of agony pierced the deathly silence of the vast landscape.
Dark magic poured from the wizard with all-black eyes, the magic going into a dark sphere as it plunged into the ghostly shape, savagely ripping it to pieces.
The wails decreased and finally silenced, when the ghostly form was reduced to nothingness, ceasing to exist with a blast of powerful dark magic exploding from the empty sphere…
The wizard dropped his hands and his all-black eyes glanced at the corpse at his feet, staring unemotionally at the crimson, lifeless eyes, as he whispered coldly, "There's nothing left of you now. Good-bye, Tom."
…Magic smothering him, muted voices yelling in the background, someone pressing him against a wall, cerulean blue eyes hungrily inspecting him, as a strangely accented voice breathed out exultantly, "I've waited so long to meet you, Orion… do you know what my names mean? … holy one, that of a golden life, though my life has been anything but golden…and my middle name, in muggle Greek mythology, the name of a Titan who presided over the Sun and Light! Oui, that's me!" An angelic smile spreading, but there was a dangerous threat behind it, the smile amused, warm, yet something menacing lurked behind.
Waves upon waves of pain…a maelstrom of darkness encompassing a convulsing body in the midst of whiteness… heat against snow, a piercing scream thundering in the silence, as an enticing female voice crooned a continuous and victorious "Yes."
"Yes, after today," whispered softly the enticing female voice, "you'll almost be… after today…"
Gasping, almost choking out his heavy breaths, Orion's eyes snapped open, his limbs jerkily flailing with a volition of their own, as if they could swat away bad dreams. Before he knew it, he became entangled in his bed covers and crashed against the floor with a painful thud.
Shaking his head, dispelling away his sleepiness, he jumped to his feet, his breathing heavy and panted. His gaze scanned the room, wild and alarmed, before he calmed himself down when he saw that he was in the master bedroom of Potter Manor. Sunlight was already spearing through his curtained windows.
Orion checked his wristwatch, learning that it was ten in the morning, that he had slept for about six hours, and that he didn't have a second to lose. He had to get ready to go to Durmstrang, but before that, he needed to get his answers from Grindelwald. But, as he quickly entered the bathroom to get ready for what would undoubtedly be a long and taxing day, not to mention that it was the day in which he would kill a wizard he deeply esteemed, he couldn't stop thinking about the visions he had had.
He fiercely rubbed his forehead as he ducked under the stream of warm water. He felt his muscles relaxing, the tension dripping away with the water which flowed from the showerhead. But he still felt tired. He felt that he had been restless during his sleep, his troubles not melting away in his slumber, but persisting throughout his dream-filled night. And the visions….
What did they mean? Orion bit his lower lip as he spread the soapy foam on his skin. Lezander and he together again, the vampire sinking his teeth into his neck… Were they sharing blood ? Were they sharing blood and about to have sex, about to complete the bond between them? And the old woman raking a fingernail along his cheek, tasting his blood, calling it perfection. That had to be the Kraljica Mati, he had no doubt about it. And her voice, it was similar to the enticing, lulling voice which always called to him in his dreams, wasn't it? Was it her giving him these visions, attempting to show him the way, even if he didn't want to travel the path she showed him?
And him killing Voldemort, annihilating the master soul with his Necromantic power, obviously already having destroyed the wizard's horcruxes… That vision still persisted, as the others. Nothing had changed. And, admittedly, his latest actions had probably propelled him towards that ending with Voldemort… But he had to do something to prevent that from happening! Surely he would never find a reason to completely dispose of Voldemort, surely not! But the baby, he still had the vision about his baby girl…
Orion's troubled frown deepened as he touched his flat belly. Could Grindelwald's suspicions be correct? But he didn't feel anything inside him. He shook his head and slammed his fists against the tilled wall. Even if Grindelwald was right about Voldemort having done something to him so that he would be withchild without knowing, there wasn't anything he could do about it. He could only confront Voldemort and hope that it wasn't true, and if it was… Well, Voldemort would know what pain truly meant. But if that was it, he wouldn't go as far as to kill the wizard for that reason alone… not unless… He shook his head. He didn't know what to make of it. And he wouldn't think of it until he had to cross that bridge, because…
Because above all other things, what disturbed him the most were the two new visions. The one about the heat and snow, the waves of pain he had felt through the vision, the blackness, the enticing voice crooning victoriously… What was that? What was the Kraljica Mati celebrating? Moreover, who was the wizard who had him against a wall? That snippet of a vision was unclear, he didn't remember seeing anything but the smile, so outwardly innocent and angelic, yet threatening. The vision about the unknown wizard troubled him greatly, because it was the first vision he had had which was so foggy and clouded, without allowing him to see who the wizard was. That was a first. And he still felt what it had been like to be in the presence of the mysterious wizard, he remembered the feeling of the magic which had been pressing in on him, and it felt unfamiliar, strange, but very powerful, sofocantingly so.
And the wizard's voice, for it was certain that it came from a male, had been so weirdly accented, as if pertaining to someone who had lived in countless countries, a mesh of many accents… But the 'oui' he remembered was telling, it had been a Frenchman. Who? Who could be spouting about the meanings of his names? Golden life? And the name of a Titan of Greek mythology?
He raked his brain for an answer but unless he went hunting into the library to peruse several books, he couldn't remember off the top of his head. He would certainly look into it when he came back to the Manor, after having…
Orion sighed and stepped out of the shower, wrapping a towel around his waist. He would look into it after he was done with his duties for the day, after he killed Grindelwald. He had already made up his mind about that. Gellert was right, he had to keep his end of the bargain and he couldn't postpone it any longer, no matter how much he would like to. The wizard was a threat to him, just as Snape had said. The longer Grindelwald lived, the longer the wizard would be affected by the pull of his dark magic, and the greater the chances that the wizard gave into temptation and tried to kill him and Voldemort, to absorb their dark magic and get his hands on the Hallows. He didn't want that to happen, and neither did Grindelwald, so the decision was already made.
He pushed all thoughts about that and his visions to a side, focusing on the present, and he started to get ready for the day. He glanced once at his trunk, but decided that he wouldn't take his daily potion. If he didn't drink it that morning then by nightfall he would already be feeling the withdrawal effects and he would be entering the week of disintoxication by the next day. And that was perfectly timed. What better moment to feel feverish and unconscious than after having killed Grindelwald, so that he was too out of it to dwell on the matter? And he wanted his dark magical aura to flare out naturally as soon as possible, in time for the Dark Allies Meeting, so that they would feel how powerful he had become. He was quite curious himself.
Orion was fully dressed now, staring into his impeccably groomed reflection in the full-body mirror in his bedroom. He had chosen his most impressive robes; impressive in the manner that they made him look mature, imposing, and stern. They were all black, of a rich and airy material that was perfect for that summer day, with the Black family crest embroidered with silver thread on cuffs and lapels. They were the perfect attire in which to make his 'speech' before the congregated students of Durmstrang.
Only two things about him needed to be corrected. He solved the first by waving his wand at his face, casting a glamour which effectively concealed the dark circles under his eyes. And he solved the second by piercing his fingertip with a conjured needle, smudging his blood on his forehead, chanting the blood-spell under his breath, and then cleaning his forehead with a flick of his wand. And there it was once more, after years of not having seen it; the lightning bolt-shaped scar which would remind everyone that he had been the one to kill Voldemort when he had been but a mere baby. That famous scar which would renew rumors wondering about the power held by the Boy-Who-Lived.
He trailed a fingertip along the scar, his eyes focused on its reflection, as he felt a warm tingling under his touch. Even if he hadn't seen that scar in years, it called forth a myriad of memories and thoughts. It was Voldemort's mark on him, a reminder of the unbreakable bond between them, that of master soul and horcrux. But it also reminded him of being ten-years-old, of discovering who his real father was, of learning about his true dark heritage, and also about Tom. Besides Calypso and Lezander, and later, briefly, Voldemort, he had showed his scar to locket-Tom, so very long ago. And he couldn't help but feel some sort of sad melancholy accompanying those reminiscences.
He was still caressing the scar when an agonizing scream cut through the silence, reverberating through the thick walls of Potter Manor. Startled, he spun around, just in the same second that Dobby popped before him.
The house-elf rocked on his feet, wringing his small hands together, as he cried, "Master Orion, sir, you must come, it's Master Draco-"
Orion was pelting out of the room before Dobby finished. Walls and doors flashed through his vision and he finally yanked open the door of his destination and hurtled inside the room. All color drained from his face and a horrified expression spread over his features when he took in the scene before him.
Draco seemed to be screaming himself raw, the boy had his eyes closed, the handsome, gaunt face scrunched in agony as he violently convulsed on the bed. Daisy was on top of him, trying to force down the flailing limbs, and she was undoubtedly using some of her elfish magic to accomplish it. Apparently, the young wizard was still unconscious under the healing coma, but the boy's fingers were brutally clawing his left forearm.
The violently trembling limb was covered in deep wedges gushing with thick blood, Draco's fingernails only making the wounds worse. And in a brief second, when Daisy managed to rip Draco's clawing fingers from the arm, he saw the mark on the boy's savaged forearm. The distorted Dark Mark was writhing on the raised and bloodied skin, the snake uncoiling from the skull's jaws, and travelling along the forearm, hissing as the skin she slid on broke into more gashes, Draco's unwitting scream becoming louder.
In a flash, Orion reached the bed, damning Voldemort to the deepest pits of hell. He knew it would happen, Alecto Carrow had said it herself that the wizard could torture his followers by the use of the Dark Mark, no matter the distance, but he had hoped that Voldemort wouldn't act so soon. He had hoped that the wizard would wait for news from him, before deciding to torture Draco by this means. And he knew what Voldemort's aim was; to kill Draco, once and for all.
He immediately pinned Draco down with his own body, locking his legs with the boy's convulsing ones, and using all his considerable strength to clutch the boy's wrists above his head. He could do nothing about Draco's screams, and he had to shout to be heard over it, as he glanced at Daisy, "I've got him! Where's Gellert?!"
The house-elf dropped away from the bed, looking as tired as he felt, and she promptly replied, "Master Orion's guest has been in the gardens since he woke up, sir."
"Get him in here!" snapped Orion, and she popped away without another word.
He would never doubt her efficiency, for in the next second the door was yanked open, and Grindelwald ran into the room.
"What's all this ruckus about-"
The words died on the German wizard's lips, and before Orion could even blink, a beam of light shot from the wizard's wand and struck Draco's arm.
Instantly, a blue glow encompassed Draco's forearm, forming what looked like a tube of magic constricting around the limb. Draco's body stilled, slumping unto the bed, looking deeply asleep once more. Given that the boy hadn't awoken, despite the pain he had obviously been in, it was certain that Petra had casted a very powerful healing coma on the young wizard, and it slightly relieved him. Furthermore, he watched, entranced, how the skin of Draco's forearm started to knit itself, the deep gashes mending. It was a sign of what he had been hoping for; Draco's body had taken well to Lezander's blood, and was now healing much faster than normal.
"You did give him the vampire boy's blood, then. That is why you wrote to him, ja?"
Orion snapped his head around, and he curtly nodded at Grindelwald, before he climbed off the bed.
"What," he croaked out, before he cleared his throat and said more clearly, "What spell did you use on him?"
Grindelwald still had his hawk-like gaze fixed on Draco's forearm, as he waved a hand dismissively. "I could teach it to you, mein junge, but it would be pointless. It's only a temporary solution." The wizard's hazel eyes snapped to bore into his, as he added sternly, "It only lasts for a few hours and even if you spent every second with him, recasting it when it faded away, its effects dwindles over time. It doesn't undo the dark magic of the brand on that boy's forearm. A magical brand, like the Dark Mark, binds itself to the magical core of the bearer, mein junge. Nothing can dissolve that link except-"
"I know," interrupted Orion, his jaw clenched. "That's why I asked Calypso, a few weeks back, to look into it. I wanted to be prepared, mostly if it occurred to Voldemort to use it against my father, but I was also thinking about Draco." He sighed, and carded his fingers through his hair. "We must leave for Durmstrang straight away. Besides all the other stuff, now I need to see Calypso and I also need to sit down with Vagnarov. There's much I have to ask of him."
"I'm ready, mein junge," said Grindelwald placidly.
Orion wrenched his gaze away from Draco, to inspect the wizard, having heard the veiled, satisfied tone in the wizard's voice. The first thing he noticed was that the wizard was showing no signs of a hung over. In fact, the man looked like a mature wizard in his prime, teeming with energy and good-health. That only served to confirm his suspicions that Grindelwald's drunken state of last night had been a charade. Then he noticed the wizard's formal attire; an elegant and rich ensemble of starched, black shirt, silk, dark red cravat, velvety, gray and form-fitting vest, finished with a parted black robe, and pants tucked into black, dragonhide boots . The wizard looked every inch a Dark Lord; a reigning one, at that.
As his gaze travelled up to lock with Grindelwald's hazel eyes, he found himself being inspected in return. The wizard's lips quirked into a crooked smirk, and then an eyebrow arched when the man's gaze landed on the revealed lighting bolt-shaped scar.
"You look like a young Dark Lord, mein junge," said the wizard at last, a hint of pride in the smooth voice.
Orion let out a soft chuckle. "I was thinking the same thing about you." He shot the wizard his own smirk. "Except the young part, of course."
"Don't get impertinent, junge," said Grindelwald, his smirk turning smug as he settled a hand on Orion's shoulder and started to lead him to the doorway. "I know very well that I could pass off as your older brother."
Orion snorted, but didn't comment. The wizard was obviously in a good mood and he had no wish to ruin it, not yet. It hadn't escaped his notice that the German wizard hadn't asked any questions regarding the consequences of Draco having taken Lezander's blood. And apparently the wizard didn't have any intention to address the matters that still lingered between them. He had half a mind to tell Grindelwald about his new visions, but he discarded the idea almost immediately. It was obvious that the wizard was still with the attitude of refusing to discuss 'serious matters', and he would oblige as much as he could. Regrettably for Grindelwald, he wasn't willing to let go of the unanswered questions that pended between them since last night. But there would be time for that later.
He looked over his shoulder, to glance worriedly at Draco, but he found himself being pushed through the threshold by Grindewald, as the wizard said quietly, "The Malfoy Heir will be fine for several hours. There's nothing to be concerned about, for now."
Orion peeled his gaze away from Draco, and nodded, before he followed the wizard to one of Potter Manor's parlors. When they reached one of the fireplaces with floo connection, Grindelwald abruptly halted and turned around to face him.
Before he could even question the man, Grindelwald waved a hand and a rolled piece of parchment came shooting from the wizard's pocket, and it was swiftly handed over to him.
"I need your signature on that parchment, mein junge. And ask that adoring fan of yours to fetch you Gryffindor's Sword, you'll need it."
Orion frowned at the wizard, but didn't hesitate to obey the last part and promptly called, "Dobby!"
In the bat of an eyelash, the house-elf popped before him, and he commanded shortly, giving the creature no time to pipe in a word, "Get me the sword that's in my room."
The moment Dobby disappeared to do his bidding, and deciding to address the sword-matter right after, he unrolled the piece of parchment and swiftly read its contents. His eyes widened and anger swiftly swelled in him with each word he read.
He was about to demand explanations when the house-elf popped in, holding the sheathed sword in his hands. Orion ripped it from the creature's grasp, and barked, "Leave us!"
Dobby's eyes widened, shooting an uneasy glance from one to the other, surely feeling the tension. But the house-elf squeaked and disappeared when Orion leveled him with a glare.
Once they were alone, Orion tightened his fingers around the parchment in a crumbling grasp, and gazed up at Grindelwald as he hissed out, "What's the meaning of this? A non-aggression pact, already signed by you and Dumbledore?! How, why-"
"If you read it carefully," interjected Grindelwald coolly, "you'll see that it only applies for when the three of us are gathered together at the Rhine Falls in Switzerland-"
"I noticed that-"
"After my meeting with Albus is over," continued Grindelwald nonchalantly, "and once he leaves, the magical contract is null." He shot him a wide smirk. "You can do whatever you like to Albus after that, mein junge."
"Yes," snapped Orion crisply, narrowing his eyes, as he waved the crumbled piece of parchment in front of the wizard's face, "I know what this says. But I want to know when and how you got him to sign this! And you can't expect me to-"
"I wrote to him an hour ago," interrupted Grindewald impassively. "I sent the letter by owl and I had no doubt that he would receive it, even if he has surely made himself untraceable. After last night, he knew I would contact him since he must have foreseen that I would want to meet him." He leveled him with a hard gaze, and added sternly, "I told you yesterday that I had every intention of seeing him one last time."
"Yes, you did," said Orion crisply, "but I thought it was a mere desire, not that you would go through with it!" He glared at him, as he added hotly, "You expect me to stand there while you chat with Dumbledore, with him holding the Elder Wand, and do nothing about it?!"
"Ja, that's exactly what I expect you to do," said Grindelwald calmly. "I haven't told him that you're killing me, of course, or given him any indication, so he has no reason to mess with our plans. Indeed, I'm certain he merely thinks that I wish to discuss what he told you during your confrontation."
Orion pinned him with his gaze, closely regarding him, and demanded sharply, "What are you going to discuss with him, then?"
"Personal matters," replied Grindelwald shortly. "I want to settle my affairs with him, before I die-"
"And you think he won't suspect?" snapped Orion, feeling increasingly annoyed but also troubled. "If you address the personal issues between you, he'll surely know that I'm going to kill you! He knows what the prophecy means, he must suspect that if I kill you I'll absorb your dark magic-"
"But he doesn't believe you're capable of killing me, mein junge," interrupted Grindelwald, his tone of voice growing impatient and stern. "He knows we've been mentor and pupil all this time, and he certainly suspects that you've grown attached to me. He has reasons to believe that you would never kill me, even if it meant that you would grow more powerful. He thinks he knows you well enough to be assured of that."
"He does know me more than I would wish," darkly muttered Orion, before he narrowed his eyes at the wizard. "I don't like this. I don't like this at all-"
"I could meet him by myself," offered Grindelwald placidly, shooting him a smirk.
"Not a chance," instantly bit out Orion. "I'm going with you. Merlin knows what you'd do if you went trotting around unsupervised."
Grindelwald's smirk widened as he gazed at him expectantly, and quite pointedly. Orion shot him a glower, before he focused back on the parchment, rereading it. After making sure that all the details were to his satisfaction -somewhat, given the circumstances he was being forced to accept- he swiftly waved a hand, conjuring an inked quill. The moment he signed his name, the parchment flashed with a golden glow, rolled itself and then disappeared into thin air.
"Gut," said Grindelwald with satisfaction. "We can go now, mein junge."
Orion snapped his head up to glare at him again. He was quite miffed about the whole matter. He didn't appreciate unexpected things popping up during that day in particular. The German wizard should have damn well told him about such plans before now. But, on the other hand, this was Grindelwald's last day alive, so the wizard was entitled to do whatever he fancied –within limits. Well, he supposed that he couldn't forbid Grindelwald to see Dumbledore one last time; he had no right to do so, for starters.
He let out a sigh, and glanced down at the sword in his hands, as he muttered, "And why do you want me to bring this along?"
"You're going to kill me with it," said Grindelwald cheerfully.
"What?" croaked out Orion, gazing up at him with round eyes. "The blade is imbued with basilisk poison, if I use it your death will be very painful and slow, Gellert! I was planning on casting the Killing Curse. That's swift and painless-"
"What can I say, mein junge?" interjected Grindelwald, toothily grinning at him. "I find it poetically ironic to die under Gryffindor's sword. A Dark Lord felled by a Light artifact, that's a much more impressive way to go than being simply offed by a boring Avada Kedavra, wouldn't you say?"
Orion opened his mouth, about to tell the man exactly what he thought about that stupid idea, but the wizard held up a hand, and murmured softly, "You could grant this old man his last wish on how he wants to pass away, mein junge. Don't allow history books to say that Lord Grindelwald was unceremoniously executed with a Killing Curse."
"Fine," grunted Orion, before he leveled him with an annoyed glare, "but keep your emotional manipulations to yourself, Gellert. You win – again."
The vulnerable expression on the wizard's face faded in a second, to be replaced by an unabashedly satisfied smirk, as the man patted Orion on the shoulder. "You're a good friend, mein junge. I couldn't have wished for a better-"
"Yeah, yeah," grumbled Orion, while he looped the sheath's strap around his torso, leaving the sword securely settled against his back, "spare me the sentimental crap, old man. I know you don't mean it."
Abruptly, Grindelwald seized Orion's chin, lifting it up as he intently bore his hazel eyes into his green ones, staying silent for a moment before he said quietly, "I am fond of you, mein junge. I tell no lies. I-"
"Not now," interrupted Orion stiffly, taking a step back and quickly digging a hand into the jar on top of the fireplace's mantelpiece, getting a fistful of floo powder. "We need to get to Durmstrang, Gellert. We'll talk later."
Grindelwald dropped his hand from Orion's face, and nodded, before he said curtly, "I think it would be best if you casted the parsel-invisibility spell on me, mein junge. Reveal me when you've already gathered the students."
"Alright," said Orion, before he swiftly aimed his wand at the wizard and hissed the spell, quickly followed by a muting charm to the man's boots.
Without wasting any more time, he stepped into the fireplace, flinging the floo powder when he felt Grindelwald grasping his arm to let him know he was inside as well.
"Headmaster's office, Durmstrang!"
Orion stepped out of the dwindling green flames, swishing his wand to clean the soot from his robes. The moment he glanced around Vagnarov's office, he knew something was not right. The Headmaster was nowhere to be seen, and there were several open trunks partly filled with books, framed pictures and other personal possessions. The shelves around the office were mostly empty, and the large, ornate desk was void from the usual trinkets and stacks of parchment.
Alarm swept over him, his mind racing frantically, several explanations popping forth. Vagnarov was leaving the school, or perhaps fleeing? Why? Had news about what had happened last night at Hogwarts already reached every confine of the wizarding world? If so, had Vagnarov decided it was best to leave, or perhaps the Spirits had forced the wizard to do so. But, again, why? Or was it something worse…
Something lodged in Orion's throat, and he was pelting down the stairs before he knew it, running towards the sixth year's common room, to find Calypso as soon as possible. His anxiousness increased with each rushed step he took since every corridor he ran along was empty, a strange silence creeping throughout the castle. There was an ominous lack of students walking to their classes, of teachers' lectures seeping through classroom doors. In its stead, there was absolute silence, not a footfall could be heard or a face seen. The school seemed to be utterly empty.
Finally, he barged into his common room, but only found the same; there was no one there. He was about to spin around when he caught sight of something at the edge of his vision. Orion instantly reached one of the large windows of the tower and gazed at the scene before him, down by the lake.
Every student seemed to be congregated at the school grounds, standing in numerous lines before the lake, with their backs turned to the castle. He distinguished that they were all wearing Durmstrang's formal robes; dark red robes lined with fur, despite that it was already summer, capes draped over one shoulder, the hems of the girls' dresses flittering in the breeze. The teachers were also there, along with numerous other adults which he didn't recognize from that distance. And everyone seemed to be gazing at something in the lake, some heads bowed, some shoulders slumped, but most of them rigidly still.
Orion hitched in a breath before he rushed out of the deserted room. In mid sprint, he waved his wand at his torso, hissing under his breath as he casted the parsel-invisibility spell on himself. The immense front doors of the castle were wide open, draped in black hangings, and he rushed out. As he approached the large congregation of people, he spotted Calypso among the rest of the Elite and he inched his way towards her, careful of not bumping into anyone.
Some pompous-looking old wizard was spouting some sort of mournful speech, seemingly respectful and grieved while singing the praises of the man they were burying. But Orion was barely paying any attention, since from what he heard the wizard knew next to nothing about the man. Instead, as he got closer, his gaze solely focused on his friends.
A surge of grief encompassed him when he saw Titania openly crying on Viktor's shoulder, the usually buoyant and bragging young wizard wearing a glum expression on his face while he soothingly rubbed his girlfriend's back. By the couples' side, Evander was tightly hugging Kara against his chest, her teary face partly hidden in the crook of the boy's neck. Artemisa and Hector were standing to their left in complete silence, while Wenceslas had an arm over Laiana's small shoulders. Kasimir and Alexios were standing rock still, shoulder to shoulder, but their hands were clasped together, and Geodrof, by their side, had one arm wrapped comfortingly around Dravana's waist.
All their gazes were fixed on the lake, and Orion knew what he would find there. Indeed, when his eyes finally searched the surface, he saw a small barge rocking gently in the rippling water, slowly getting farther away from the shore. He could see the outline of a body there, covered by a black mantle.
He moved to stand besides Calypso, and whispered dully, "When did it happen?"
She sucked in a breath, her black eyes marginally widening, as she whispered back, "Orion?"
"Yeah," he said numbly.
Calypso's shoulders stiffened, and he saw her surreptitiously taking her wand out and flicking it, casting a muting charm around them. Yet, she didn't turn her face around. She kept her gaze fixed forward, her lips barely moving as she said urgently, "I've been sending you letters for the past two hours-"
"All letters addressed to me go to Black Manor," interjected Orion swiftly, "and my house-elf hasn't been there yet to retrieve any."
"You shouldn't have come," she snapped, before a sob escaped her lips. She shook her head, and instantly pulled herself together as she muttered worriedly, "That's what I told you in my letters. It's dangerous for you to be here-"
"When did it happen?" demanded Orion again.
Calypso's shoulders slumped, and she murmured tearily, "Headmaster Vagnarov was found dead in his bed this morning. He… he died in his sleep during the night, Orion."
That thing constricting his throat seemed to mercilessly clench harder, and he bowed down his head to rub his forehead, as he muttered, "I was in his office last night. I was but a few steps away from his chambers. I could have-"
"There's nothing you could have done," bit out Calypso. Her voice broke and she cleared her throat to continue softly, "He died of old age, it was a painless and peaceful death."
Suddenly, he felt her hand brushing his side, searching for something. He understood immediately and clasped her hand in his, lending her the comfort she was seeking but not voicing.
Calypso's grasp tightened and he could feel the tension coming off her as she said sharply, "The ceremonial speech is about to conclude, you missed the whole thing, and you shouldn't be here anyway. Are you mad, Orion? It's all over the newspapers, how you killed Dumbledore-"
"I didn't," interjected Orion gloomily.
A frown spread over her face, but she still kept her gaze fixed ahead, as she continued just as sternly, "It doesn't matter. It doesn't matter either that you're under an invisibility spell, you shouldn't be here! People are looking for you. Look to your left!"
Orion did exactly that and his gaze landed on the adults who were attending the funerary ceremony. Petra Podroff and the rest of the teachers were there, among other wizards and witches, who, given their superior attittude and the sash they were wearing with Durmstrang's crest, had to be part of the school's Board of Governors. But he also recognized others from newspapers' wizarding pictures; the German Minister of Magic was in attendance, along with the Ministers of Bulgaria, Austria, Poland, Russia, Sweden, and –last, but certainly not least, given what it meant for him- was the Danish Minister of Magic, flanked by stern-looking wizards wearing dark violet robes – Danish Aurors.
"They were the first to arrive," murmured Calypso anxiously, casting a glance at them. "They searched the school, obviously looking for you. And there are rumors that they're going to be posted here for some time."
Orion frowned worriedly, biting his lower lip. "Then I have to talk to…" He sideways glanced at her, his frown deepening. "…to the new Headmaster. Who-"
The question died on his lips when silence spread through the gathering, the pompous old wizard who had been giving the speech turning to stand besides the Danish Minister of Magic. A wizard in his early thirties stepped forward, richly clothed, looking imposing and grave as he waved a hand and a long, ornate bow glowed into existence. The handsome man stood by the shore, in front of everyone who remained respectfully quiet, only a few sobs breaking the silence. The wizard skillfully maneuvered the bow, with an arrow propped, its tip suddenly bursting with flames.
"No, not him," croaked out Orion, horrified. "Not Komorov."
But there was no denying. It was Roman Komorov who was now arching the bow, making the arrow ready to fly. It was Komorov taking the traditional place of the new Headmaster of Durmstrang, as Vagnarov must have done in the past when they retrieved what was left of Karkaroff's body, in order to incinerate the deceased Headmaster with an arrow ignited by a Fiendfyre spell.
"Who else could it have been?" said Calypso under her breath. "It's obvious that the Aux always… nudge some minds to make sure that the Board of Governors choose who the Spirits want to be the next Headmaster. And the Spirits always make the Aux Atrum's leader the Headmaster, don't they?" She shook her head, and muttered pointedly, "This works to your benefit-"
"It doesn't," bit out Orion crisply. "Komorov hates my guts."
"I'm sure it isn't as bad as that," she said quietly, not sounding too certain.
Orion clenched his jaw, but remained silent as he observed the new Headmaster of the school. Komorov's handsome face held a grave and closed off expression, nothing giving away the slightest hint of grief, though he knew that the wizard had been close to Vagnarov. In the next second, the bow was arched tautly, and in the next moment the ignited arrow was sizzling through the air. It struck the distant barge, and suddenly the whole thing exploded into flames, a wild fire consuming everything it touched.
He could discern the outline of Vagnarov's body being encompassed by the flames, the bulk under the burning black mantle quickly being reduced in size. And in mere seconds, there was nothing left; no vessel, no body, no fire, nothing, the lake's surface once more smooth and undisturbed.
A sob escaped from Calypso, and he quickly tightened the hand he had clasped around hers, as she muttered quietly, "Where has Vagnarov's remains gone to? Surely they-"
"To the Catacombs," interrupted Orion curtly. "I saw Karkaroff's tomb case there, so Komorov must have made space for Vagnarov… for Vagnarov's ashes…"
He shook his head, and stiffly let go of Calypso's hand, taking a step back.
"Where are you going?" asked Calypso, her voice alarmed, though she was still looking ahead, nothing giving away that there was someone by her side.
"I don't want people bumping into me on their way back," replied Orion hastily, shifting to a side just in time before a boy slammed into him. "I'll meet you in your father's classroom. There's much we need to talk about."
She nodded, and surreptitiously flicked her wand, cancelling the spell which had been silencing their whole conversation, before she turned towards Kara and Titania. Orion carefully but quickly swerved through the crowd, and once he reached the school's entrance, he slumped against the thick walls of the school. He observed in somber silence how the gathering dissolved; students returning to the school, Ministers of Magic having some words with Komorov before disapparating or portkeying, teachers grimly whispering among themselves, and his friends jointly marching into Durmstrang. Thankfully, it didn't seem that Calypso had told them about his presence there, but they were certainly worried and nervous. As they passed by him, he couldn't catch snippets of their hushed conversation, but Titania's expression was anxious and troubled, and Evander was now holding a newspaper in his hands, showing it to Viktor as they entered the school.
Finally, there was no one left on the grounds except Komorov, the Danish Minister of Magic and the wizard's clique of Aurors, and Orion intently watched them with a frown on his face. They seemed to be having an argument of some sort. The Danish Minister was gesturing at the Aurors, while Komorov was curtly shaking his head, only a hint of anger flickering across the man's handsome yet stern features.
Abruptly, a hand landed on his shoulder and Orion almost jumped into the air, before he remembered that Grindelwald had been there with him the whole time. He had forgotten about the man's invisible presence.
"You have my condolescences, mein junge," whispered a voice into his ear. "This must be an unexpected blow for you."
Orion side-glanced at where he thought the wizard was, and murmured, "I knew he was ill. I knew this would happen eventually." He shrugged his shoulders, and added shortly, "It's alright. I'm fine."
"I know you esteemed the old wizard-"
"I said I'm fine," snapped Orion sharply, tightly fisting his hands. "I don't want to talk about Vagnarov, Gellert. I don't want to talk about anything right now."
The hand on his shoulder dropped away, and he was silently thankful that Grindelwald didn't decide to press the matter. Really, the last thing he wanted was to think about Vagnarov's death. He had known it would happen someday, but it still seemed to be very sudden. Moreover, he had counted on Vagnarov's help and now he would have to deal with Komorov instead. Not to mention that Vagnarov had been the only wizard he could go to for certain things, the only man he felt comfortable enough with to discuss fully his plans of becoming a Necromancer, or about his past lifes. And now… and now Vagnarov was no more.
And he felt that constricting thing lodging in his throat again, and the lack of something. Much like the gaping hole he had felt in his chest when he had seen Draco's condition. And now he felt something like it again, added to the knowledge that he would be killing Grindelwald in a few hours. And he simply didn't want to dwell on those kinds of matters anymore. He was tired of it. He just wanted to proceed with the things he had to, and get it over with. He didn't want to feel grief, he didn't want to mourn, he didn't want the prickle of tears in his eyes, he only wanted to act.
He took a deep intake of breath, and his hands slowly unclenched as he forced himself to gain back a cool composure. His gaze immediately searched Komorov again, but now the wizard was striding back to the school. The Danish Minister of Magic had left, along with the Aurors, it seemed.
The man passed a few feet away from him, taking the steps into the school. Abruptly, Komorov halted, unconsciously rubbing his tingling nape, as he said curtly, looking ahead into vacant space, "I know you're here, Mr. Black. I feel you. I want to see you in my office – in the Headmaster's office, that is."
The wizard strode inside the school without waiting for an answer, and Orion was greatly tempted to yell at him a very rude retort. However, he simply squared his shoulders and made his way into the castle. The corridors were empty, only some footfalls could be heard distantly. It was obvious that classes had been cancelled, and students would be leaving for their summer holidays in two days anyway, so most of them had to be in their common rooms, getting ready to depart.
He reached the Dark Arts classroom, and glanced around, making sure no one was nearby, before he quietly opened the door and slipped inside. Calypso was already there, waiting for him, leaning on the teacher's desk, several newspapers clenched in her hands.
Her gaze snapped up when he closed the door, and she whispered, "Is that you?"
"Yup," said Orion, instantly flicking his wand and cancelling the parsel-invisibility spell.
He wondered briefly whether he should bring down Grindelwald's as well, but then decided he preferred that Calypso didn't know that the wizard was with them. He wanted her to be solely focused on the matters-at-hand. Thus, he merely swished his wand at the door, locking it and casting several silencing and anti-spying spells around the classroom.
"What do you have there?" he asked, reaching her side and pointedly glancing at the newspapers clutched in her hands.
"I wanted to show you what they have been saying about you, since it's obvious that you haven't read a single one," said Calypso, immediately spreading them wide open on top of the desk. "They keep writing about a Death Eater attack on Hogwarts, and-"
"Surely your father told you about that," interjected Orion coolly.
"Yes, he did," she said shortly, pinning him with a gauging gaze, "and about what happened at the Dark Lord's Manor as well." She lowered her voice, and murmured anxiously, "He told me what the Dark Lord did to Draco-"
"He's alive," interrupted Orion promptly, seeing relief sweeping across her face.
"He's with you then?" she breathed out. "And he's well?"
"Not quite," said Orion, sighing as he carded his fingers through his hair. "His injuries were very grave and I ended up writing to Lezander, asking for his blood. I fed it to Draco and now he's in a healing coma, so we'll have to wait and see-"
"What?" she snapped, looking at him with round eyes. "You gave him Lez's blood, are you insane?! It could-"
"It was the best and only solution at the time," interrupted Orion sharply, holding up a hand. "I don't want to hear it. If anyone has a right to complain about it, it's Lezander and Draco. Lezander didn't, and…" He grimaced. "And Draco might when he wakes up, but again, we'll have to wait and see. I don't want to talk about this, since speculating is pointless."
"Fine," said Calypso curtly, leveling him with a hard gaze, "we'll talk about it at some other time, then." She crossed her arms over her chest, and demanded, "What happened last night at Hogwarts? I know what my dad told me, but I want to hear your side of the story."
Orion sighed tiredly, and said tonelessly, "I found out that Trelawney's is an Aux Atrum, Dumbledore took me horcrux-hunting to a cave -I got the alleged horcrux with me, by the way, it's fake of course- then we went back, Draco had repaired the cabinet, so the Death Eaters came through, everything ended up being a mess, I dueled with the old goat, he told me a lot of weird stuff -for which I still have to get answers from Gellert- I shot the Killing Curse at the old man, Fawkes took him away and saved him. Then I went to Riddle Manor and I saw Draco disappear. I used the time-turner, went back in time, retraced my steps, did a little thing here, a little thing there, I saved myself, I made Greyback go to Lycaon, and then I snatched Draco away from Voldemort's clutches. Oh, and the time-turner broke and I found out from Greyback that Voldemort's trying to snatch the werewolves from me by promising to give them potions which will allow them to transform during non-full moon nights. Ah, and I casted a mind possession curse on Hermione Granger."
Calypso blinked at him, quickly taking it all in, before a pensive and calculating frown spread over her face. "I see. Well, the mind possession over the mudblood will come in handy." She pierced him with her eyes, and asked quietly, "Then Dumbledore isn't dead?"
"Nope," said Orion coolly.
She huffed, and bit out, "Then why are you so calm?" She angrily waved at the spread newspapers. "This is a disaster! Un utter mess – read them!"
"I rather not," interjected Orion, shooting an annoyed glance at the wizarding newspapers. "Why don't you tell me instead?"
"Alright," said Calypso shortly, straightening up as she pierced him with a stern gaze. "They're calling you a murderer, a traitor, the Boy-Who-Became-Evil," she snorted, "according to Rita Skeeter and the Daily Prophet. Not that that should concern you, but the other newspapers, the ones from Russia, Germany and other Dark-oriented countries, are printing every wild speculation they can think of! They're afraid, Orion! Afraid since everyone believes that you've killed Dumbledore and that now you're going to become the next Dark Lord, and they don't want you going against Voldemort. They fear that if the Dark is split between you and him, then that we'll be weaker, that you two will fight against each other and probably end up both dead, given what the damned prophecy says. You know how it was interpreted by the media, and they see this as evidence that you'll both kill each other and that the Dark will be rendered leaderless-"
"That's all?" scoffed Orion.
"No, damn it!" snapped Calypso angrily, glaring at him. "You saw the Danish Aurors, right? The Danish Minister of Magic is washing his hands off, he doesn't want to involve Denmark in an international conflict with England and other Light countries, not over you. The Ministry issued a capture warrant against you, Orion. If you're seen, they'll lock you up somewhere and negotiate with the English Aurors, surely to get something in return if they hand you over. Everyone is being very careful about the whole matter, no one is ready to clap you on the back, congratulate you for having supposedly killed Dumbledore, and then take your side. On the contrary, every Dark Ministry seems to be waiting before taking any sides. Waiting to see if you and Voldemort kill each other, or if one of you survives to take the mantle of leadership. Only then, will they cast their luck with either of you, and that's only if they see that who remains has any chances of winning the war in England. And it's quite obvious that all hell is going to break lose there, now that they believe that their adored Dumbledore is dead!"
She crossed her arms over her chest, and continued crisply, "Not to mention, of course, that the English Aurors are hunting down Snape and Draco. And Draco's being hunted down by the Death Eaters, on top of that! My father told me that Voldemort has already ordered them to look for Draco, the moment you left his Manor. And here in Durmstrang, things aren't much better." She scowled, and added angrily, "Remember that idiot, Gustav Orloff? The one who wanted you to be expelled from school when it was made public that you had been Harry Potter? The one who the Carrows named as the liaison between Durmstrang students and Voldemort?"
"Yeah, Orloff. What about him?" said Orion, the frown which had deepened with every single word from her, now darkening.
"He never stopped recruiting anyone here who wants to become a Death Eater," said Calypso shortly. "And just this morning, when everyone got their newspapers by owl, and before Professor Komorov…" Her voice slightly broke, but she instantly cleared her throat, continuing strongly, "Before Headmaster Komorov came into the Hall to announce that they had found Vagnarov dead in his bed, I heard Orloff boasting about how the Dark Lord was now going to take hold of Durmstrang." She shook her head, adding incensed, "It's utter rubbish, for I know that the Aux Atrum would never allow that to happen. But using that threat, Orloff started pressuring others to become Death Eaters, and he's going to continue to do so. And I saw the effect that his words had on the students. They're scared as well, Orion. They don't know who to turn to. And given that you're being persecuted, they'll most assuredly side with Voldemort because they see him as their safest bet, because no one knows if you're going to make it out of this gigantic mess!"
"I see," muttered Orion, fiercely rubbing his forehead.
"Do you?" she said beseechingly, peering up at him. "Other than counting with my support and that of the Elite, you're on your own, Orion. Do you understand that? I wouldn't even count in the rest of the DA. I think they're also withholding their full support until they know if it's best to either side with you or Voldemort." She grasped his arm, and added adamantly, "It's now more than ever that you need to fully join forces with Voldemort! Draco's with you - fine. You have to help him, I know that. I don't want him to die either, but you must make sure that Voldemort doesn't turn on you. Have you gone back to see him-"
"No," interrupted Orion, with a deep sigh.
"Then what are you waiting for?" snapped Calypso with exasperation. "Why did you come here at all? You should be fixing matters with him-"
"I came here to talk to you and Vagnarov," grumbled Orion. "And because I was going to round up the students to reveal Grindelwald to them, and to-"
"That's out of the question!" interrupted Calypso alarmed, her clutch on his arm tightening jerkily. "Don't you see that with Vagnarov dead, the ward he had casted on the school no longer holds? There's no ward now that prevents students from writing about you to whomever they want. No ward that makes it impossible for them to share what they know about you. And if they see you, some could notify that you're in the school and the Danish Aurors will come to get you. Your secrets regarding the Hallows, the Spirits and the Vindico issue are safe, because no student knows of it except Titania and I, but someone in the DA could let slip that you…" She shook her head, muttered glumly, "You showed the DA the memory of you torturing Voldemort, remember? That might reach Voldemort's ears, Orion, and he'll be furious."
Orion groaned, before a troubled and anxious expression flickered across his face. "I could ask Komorov to cast the ward again. Then, I could gather the students and proceed with what I had planned-"
"No, you won't be able to," interrupted Calypso, her shoulders slumping. "Komorov won't cast the ward. He won't help you with that." She gazed at him, and continued softly, her voice remorseful, "The moment I read the newspapers, I pulled my father to a side and asked if he knew what the Spirits were planning to do to help you out. He told me that other than making sure that you aren't apprehended at Durmstrang, the Aux Atrum have orders of not helping you in any way. I think… I think the Spirits see this as a lesson for you, to see if you can manage such circumstances on your own-"
"Lesson?" hissed out Orion enraged, his jaw clenching. "It's no lesson. It's payback because I turned my back on them, refusing to follow their designs for me. Because I chose to be independent and do things the way I see fit!"
"Yes, you might be right," interjected Calypso, "but that doesn't change the fact that Komorov will not cast the ward, and that you can't show yourself here and much less gather up the students. And you can't cast the ward yourself, you have no authority in the school." She shot him a quizzical glance. "What were you planning on telling the students, anyway?"
"About how we had broken out Gellert, that Voldemort hadn't killed him during the destruction of Nurmengard," muttered Orion, sighing as he carded his fingers through his hair, "and how he'd been training me. And he was going to tell them that I was his successor and-"
"Right. Grindelwald was going to herald you as some sort of Dark Lord, wasn't he?" snapped Calypso, scowling. "Well, now is not the time for that! You told me that once you're ready to undertake the VA test, the Spirits themselves are going to show their support for you, revealing their existence, claiming you as the Vindico, and such. That will have the impact you desire, Orion. Now you must focus on fixing matters with Voldemort, to show everyone that you and he are a united front and that what happened last night isn't going to split the Dark in two sides. I'm not telling you that you shouldn't take leadership of the Dark – you must do that eventually. I'm telling you to wait until the time is right."
"I understand," said Orion quietly.
"Good," said Calypso, shooting him a wan smile which he assumed was meant to be uplifting and comforting, though it wasn't. She looked as troubled and worried as he felt. "Where are you staying? How can I contact you?"
Orion frowned pensively, before he spotted the necklace she was wearing – his Christmas gift to her, a silver necklace with a beautiful amethyst stone worked with silver engravings which were magical runes of protection against several curses and spells.
He carefully grasped the pendant in his hand, and aimed his wand at it, as he intently focused. "Portus!"
The violet stone vibrated and glowed with a deep blue, before it settled back to its usual appearance.
"Now it's a portkey into Potter Manor," he explained when she arched her eyebrow. "That's where Draco is, and where I'm staying at present. In two weeks I'll be going to Zraven Citadel, and I'll ask Lezander to allow your owl to reach me there-"
"You're going so soon?" interjected Calypso anxiously. "Do you think it's wise to start your vampire training now? Voldemort won't be happy about that."
"I have to go," said Orion curtly. "You know it's important for me to renew my allegiance with the Zravens, and… and I want to see Lez, Calypso. I've postponed it for too long."
She wrung her hands together, and said quietly, "Do you think he remembers everything?"
"I think he does," replied Orion, slightly frowning. "His reply to my letter was very short, but he must remember much since he didn't ask who Draco was or anything of the sort."
"I've wanted to write to him but every time I sit down, I can't do it," said Calypso abruptly, gazing at him nervously. "There're so many things I would like to talk to him about. And I wasn't exactly supportive of your relationship with him-"
"You always thought Voldemort was the one for me," Orion pointed out.
"I still do," interjected Calypso, piercing him with her eyes. "That he's the best for you, that is. The one, the one…" She waved her hand vaguely. "That's subjective isn't it? And perhaps there isn't a one for anybody." She bit her lower lip, before she added, "And with the whole vampire life mate issue… well, who knows?" She glanced up at him again, and said resolutely, "Perhaps you should be with Lez as well. You know that I've always said that you could form a triad, or something of the sort."
"Yeah," said Orion, sniggering, "you've got quite liberal views."
"On some matters, yes," she said, slightly smirking at him, before her gaze landed on his forehead. "I noticed the scar, you know. Good idea. Voldemort will like it."
Orion snorted, and groused out, "I didn't cancel the blood glamour because of him."
"Well, it works to your benefit, nonetheless," said Calypso, her smirk widening. "It will help to make him feel possessive of you, and that's something you should use."
"I'm not his spouse anymore," said Orion curtly, "not in practice."
Calypso leveled him with a hard gaze, and bit out, "Don't be an idiot. If you want to keep Voldemort as your ally, then use all the tools at your disposal. Merlin knows that he'll have plenty of reasons to be furious at you, and to kill you, even. Morality be damned, Orion, you can't afford it at present. Remember that you want him with you and not against you."
"We'll see," said Orion dismissively. He intently pierced her with his eyes, and added quietly, "I must leave soon, but not without first asking two things from you. I need your help with Draco. I'm going to be away for some while and he can't be left alone. That's also why I made you a portkey to Potter Manor. I know you usually spend your summer holidays here, but could you stay at the Manor with him? When he wakes up, I want someone to be there for him, and the Manor's safe. Moreover, if he's well, then I want you to train him."
"Train him?" asked Calypso, her eyes widening. "You mean in the Dark Arts?"
Orion nodded at her. "Precisely. And it would be great if your father helped you with that as well, as long as he doesn't tell Voldemort about it, of course. You and your dad will have three months to work on Draco."
"You're planning on making Draco one of us, part of the Elite?" said Calypso, pensively frowning. "Are you going to tell him about the Vindico issue and-"
"Yes," interrupted Orion swiftly, "I'll tell him about everything."
Calypso gazed up at him, and said eagerly, "Alright. I'll do it. I think it's a good idea, and I'm sure my father will agree to do it as well. What's the other thing?"
"Remember that I asked you to research into magical brands-?"
"Oh, yes!" she rushed out, nodding at him while she plunged a hand into her robes' pocket. "You were right. I found that only by marking someone with a magical brand of equal or superior power to the one the bearer already has, can the old brand disappear in lieu of the newer. And ever since I finished it, I've been carrying my notes with me…" She plucked out a rolled stack of parchments, and handed it over to him with a smug smile on her face. "See it for yourself. It can be tweaked, but I think it's quite good. I designed it to have all the properties of the Dark Mark but also some of the VA mark that the Aux Atrum have. For instance, it will be only seen by those who are already branded with it, like the VA mark, which I think is a very important characteristic, so that your followers can't be discovered just because they have a mark somewhere on their bodies..."
Orion's eyebrows shot to his hairline as he unrolled what were five pages of parchment filled with runic and arithmetic equations; a step by step account of the creation of a magical brand.
"…and you only have to speak the name of the person branded, with intent, and the mark will act like a portkey and bring that person to you…"
"You fully created a new magical branding spell?" he said in astonishment, cutting through her ramblings.
"Yes," said Calypso, shooting him a wide smirk. "And look at the last page. That's what it will look like. You can change any of it, of course, but I think you'll be quite satisfied with my work."
Orion eagerly skipped to the fifth page, and his eyes widened and the blood coursing through his veins seemed to quicken when he gazed at the fine drawing. It was simple, elegant, not garish or menacingly ugly. It was the VA mark, with two differences; the lines were silver-colored and the shape of an eye formed by the design was completely filled with black ink.
"A Necromancer's eye," he breathed out, feeling his heart suddenly thumping faster in his chest.
She had no way of knowing, but in that respect, it looked exactly how the VA mark inscribed on the wall which gave way to the Durmstrang's catacombs looked like when he gave his blood during the spell to open the entrance, when his blood filled the engraving and condensed around the middle, making it look as if an all-black eye was glowing in the midst of the mark. And something about the whole matter, about the coincidence of her designing it to be that way, felt auspicious yet also foreboding.
"That's right," said Calypso coolly, closely observing his reaction. "I think it suits you given that you're a Necromancer. Do you like it?"
"Like it?" said Orion, snapping his head up, beaming a wide smile. "I love it, Scaly. It's perfect!"
A satisfied smile broke on her face, as she said pointedly, "I'm glad because it took me several weeks to create and if you didn't like it, then it would be your task to change some equations-"
"I'm not changing anything," interjected Orion warmly. "It's perfect as it is. Couldn't have done better myself." Then he ruffled through the pages, his gaze scanning through the long and complex formulas. "And if I brand Draco or my dad with this, then the Dark Mark will disappear from their arms, and it will no longer be linked to their magical cores?"
"Exactly," replied Calypso contently. "Your brand would be replacing Voldemort's, but it doesn't need to be in the same place. Its location is up to you."
"Fantastic," said Orion cheerfully, feeling relief sweeping through him as he safely pocketed the parchments for later perusal. "I owe you big time."
Calypso smugly smirked at him. "You do."
Shooting her a grin, Orion stepped forward to tightly hug her as she very well deserved, but his outstretched arms dropped and his expression darkened when she swiftly took a step back away from him.
"This, again?" he bit out, anger quickly swelling in him. "It's been ages since you've allowed me to hug you, Calypso! Why?" He jerkily carded his fingers through his hair. "Is my touch so disgusting to you-"
"No!" she said adamantly, a pleading expression on her face. "Never think that, it's not that at all. But I…"
She shook her head, biting her lower lip, remaining silent.
"You what?" spat Orion with exasperation. "What is it? I think I've been patient but even I have my limits, Calypso! You don't tell me anything. You won't even hint about what has been going on with you. Why you suddenly stopped attending DA sessions, why you focused single-mindedly on your studies and started to ignore your friends and me!"
Calypso sighed wearily, and mumbled, "I've been busy. I've got a lot on my mind-"
"Then tell me!" said Orion sharply. "I cannot help you if you don't-"
"I don't want your help!" snapped Calypso, lifting her chin up, glaring at him. "I have some things I need to do, some things I need to figure out. I will tell you, when I'm ready."
"Fine. Whatever," groused out Orion, spinning around and swiftly making his way to the door.
A hand clutched his arm, halting him, as her voice said softly, "Please, understand. Don't leave being angry at me."
Orion turned around to face her, and seeing the watery tearfulness in her eyes, he sighed and said quietly, "I'm not really angry. I'm simply worried about you."
"I know," she said, wanly smiling at him, "and I appreciate it. I will tell you, just give me some more time."
"Alright," muttered Orion, letting it go since he didn't want to argue with her any longer. He rubbed his forehead, sighing, before he side-glanced at her, and said quietly, "I'm doing it today. I'm killing Grindelwald."
Calypso sucked in a breath, staring at him with wide eyes, and she said tremulously, "Are you… do you feel ready for that?"
"Ready?" said Orion, letting out a harsh, humorless chuckle. "There's no way to prepare oneself to kill someone you care about, is there?"
"No, there isn't," she murmured softly, gazing at with concerned anxiousness. "When it happens, you'll be absorbing his dark magic, won't you?" She tightly grasped his arm, and added worriedly, "I'll come with you. I want to be there, by your side-"
"No," interrupted Orion, shooting her a warm and grateful smile. "I appreciate it but it's not necessary and I… I want to be alone with him. I want it to be only the two of us."
"I understand," said Calypso, squeezing his arm and momentarily looking uncertain. She bore her gaze into his, and whispered, "I love you, you know? You're a brother to me."
Orion grinned, his eyes lighting up, and he tenderly kissed her forehead. "I love you too, Calypso."
A dazzling smile beamed on her face, and he tucked a lock of ebony hair behind her ear before he took a step back. "We'll be in touch. I'll write to you."
Calypso nodded, and watched him leave the room, anxiously wringing her hands together, feeling a deep sense of apprehension and troubled concern. When the door shut behind him, she glanced at the newspapers spread on the desk, scowling, before she squared her shoulders, a hard and determined expression spreading on her face. She would help him in the ways she could, first and foremost by having a 'chat' with the DA. She wouldn't allow Orion to lose supporters after what had happened. The DA members were going to get a piece of her mind and they'd better get their loyalties straight and jump into place, or else! No matter what it took, she was going to make sure that Durmstrang followed Orion's lead and stood by his side.
"Do you agree with her assessment of the situation, Gellert?" whispered Orion, once again under the parsel-invisibility spell, as he made his way towards the Headmaster's office through mostly deserted corridors.
"Ja, mein junge," said a quiet voice by his side. "You have a sharp one there. Don't lose her."
"Of course I won't," murmured Orion, "if there's one thing I know it's that she would never abandon me." He sighed, and carded his fingers through his hair. "So no gathering of the students, then?"
"Nein," whispered Grindelwald's voice, "but there are other ways in which you can let them know about your power and about how I've been training you."
Orion hummed pensively, his mind fast at work. "Yeah, you're right."
He halted before a door, and straightened his shoulders, taking his wand out. "Ready, Gellert?"
"Ready, mein junge," replied Grindelwald's voice calmly, and Orion could hear the smirk in the wizard's tone.
With a flick of his wand, he made the door silently open and he slid inside, giving enough time for Grindelwald to enter before he closed it behind them.
The instant they entered what had previously been Vagnarvo's office, Komorov halted in mid spell-casting, snapping his head up to glance at some point between Grindelwald's and Orion's invisible presences. The newly appointed Headmaster had obviously been packing what was left of Vagnarov's possessions, since some books finished flying from shelves to settle inside the large trunks scattered around the room.
"Mr. Black, reveal yourself," said Komorov curtly, as he flicked his wand, making one of the trunks close shut, before he calmly sat down behind the grand desk.
Orion felt Grindelwald grasping his arm, and understanding what the wizard wanted, he swished his wand in the man's direction, before he cancelled his own invisibility as well.
Komorov's dark blue eyes immediately flickered between them, assessing, before he said solemnly, "Lord Grindelwald, please take a seat. You too, Mr. Black."
Orion obeyed, for now, and demanded without preambles, "Are you going to recast the ward that Vagnarov-"
"No," interrupted Komorov, piercing him with his eyes. "Vulcan was too soft with you, Black. Things are going to change around here. You have been given too much leeway, but not anymore. You will not do as you please in Durmstrang, and you'll have to solve your current predicaments by yourself - this is for your own good." He glanced at Grindelwald, and asked politely, "Don't you agree, Lord Grindelwald?"
Grindelwald chuckled, shooting a crooked smirk at the young man. "Oh, pretend I'm not here, Herr Komorov. This is Orion's show. I'm a mere spectator."
"I see," said Komorov curtly, his jaw momentarily clenching. He focused his attention back on Orion, and said sternly, "As you very well know, the Aux Atrum will only serve and help you if and when you become the Vindico. I am their leader and I gave them strict orders in this regard. And unlike Vulcan, I'm not going to make things easier for you. You need to learn-"
"Make things easier for me?" bit out Orion, crossing his arms over his chest. "When have the Aux made anything easier-"
"You dare ask me that?" hissed Komorov, his dark blue eyes narrowing at him, incensed. "I know that Vulcan did something for you which drained him from his magic. He wouldn't tell me what, but the last of his health rapidly declined for no apparent reason and it led him to an earlier grave!"
Grindelwald quizzically glanced at Orion, but he barely registered it. His face had paled, since he knew what Komorov was talking about. He had seen how Vagnarov had coughed spurts of blood after the old wizard had formed the block in his mind which would keep out the memories of his past lives.
"Vulcan was an esteemed friend and a valuable Aux Atrum," continued Komorov angrily, "and he paid the price of the consequences of helping you when he shouldn't have-"
"Don't try to make me feel guilty for his death!" snapped Orion heatedly, glaring at him. "Vagnarov did what he did willingly. He was the only one I could turn to for that, and he must have known how it would affect him, but he did it nonetheless! I will not scorn his sacrifice by–"
"By what?" snarled Komorov. "By admitting that he would still be alive right now if it wasn't for you!?"
"You fucking jerk!" spat Orion furiously, his hands clenching into fists. "You think that you're the only one who will miss him? You think that it doesn't pain me? He was my Necromancy mentor and my friend too. He was the only adult in this bloody school who ever did anything to help me! He wasn't a Karkaroff who took off the moment Voldemort popped back and gave me no explanations when telling me to search for the bloody Hallows. And he sure as hell wasn't like you, who mindlessly follows anything the Spirits tell you, like a spineless little puppy, without making any decisions of your own!"
Komorov's dark blue eyes narrowed to slits, and he hissed out enraged, "You have some nerve-"
"Gentlemen, please," interjected Grindelwald calmly, holding up a hand. "This argument is counterproductive and pointless-"
"No, let's hear what Roman has to say," said Orion acidly, glowering at the young Headmaster. "I've had it with you. When you were simply my Curse Breaking and Warding professor you liked me, you were friendly and you helped me out, remember? Ever since you became the leader of the Aux Atrum you've turned into an arsehole."
Komorov took in a deep breath, and shook his head, visibly restraining his temper and calming down. He gazed at them, and said curtly, "I apologize for my outburst. Lord Grindelwald is right, this isn't leading anywhere and there is much we need to discuss-"
"I want to know why your attitude towards me changed so drastically," snapped Orion, his voice hard and unrelenting, as he pierced the wizard with his eyes. "I want to know why you hate me so much."
"I don't hate you, Black," said Komorov sharply, shooting him a hard, impatient glance.
"Then what is it?" bit out Orion, glaring at him.
"Mein junge," interjected Grindelwald, resting a hand on his shoulder, "I'm sure Herr Komorov merely felt the pressure that comes with the burdens and responsibilities of leadership, and he adapted to his position as he thought was best."
"Fine," said Orion crisply, his gaze still fixed on the young Headmaster. "But you and I, Roman, will have to learn how to work together in the future. You're the leader of the Aux and I have every intention of becoming the Vindico, so we'll need to settle our differences."
"We'll have no problems if you don't question my way of leading the Aux," said Komorov curtly, intently gazing back at him. "I follow the Spirits' plans not because I lack a backbone when dealing with them, but because I believe in what they are doing. I believe that their methods yield the desired results, and thus, they count with my support. Like them, and unlike Vulcan, I believe that you'll grow into a better Vindico if you're not coddled and if you deal with difficulties on your own."
"Alright," said Orion coolly. "Is this why you wanted to see me, to tell me these things?"
"Yes," replied the wizard, leveling him with a strict gaze. "And to lay down the rules you'll have to follow during your next school year, and explain to you the glamour you'll need to use-"
Orion snorted, crossing his arms over his chest. "I'm not coming back, Roman."
"I beg your pardon?" said Komorov sharply, narrowing his dark blue eyes at him. "You must complete your education and I'm already working on how to deal with the Danish Aurors-"
"Nein," interjected Grindelwald, crookedly smirking at the younger wizard. "The only thing the boy needs is to take his PRIMEs as soon as possible. He doesn't need to attend his seventh year, he could be ready for his PRIMEs in a month." He shot Orion a glance, arching an eyebrow. "Right, mein junge? You could study for them during your stay with your… allies."
Orion glanced back at him musingly. "Yes, I can do that."
"What allies?" demanded Komorov, pinning him with a stern gaze. "Where are you going?"
"To the Zravens, of course," replied Orion calmly. He arched an eyebrow, and said blandly, "So, can you find a way in which I can be tested for my PRIMEs without being apprehended the moment the examiners see me?"
A pensive, calculating frown spread on Komorov's forehead, as he curtly nodded. "I'll see what can be done."
Orion smirked, and said wryly, "You'll see which minds the Aux will need to nudge, you mean."
Komorov shot him an unamused glance, and demanded, "If you're not attending your last school year, then what will you be doing?"
"I'll be training," replied Orion shortly, "and I'll be working alongside Voldemort to make sure that we win the open war that will surely erupt in England very soon."
"You'll be working with the Dark Lord?" said Komorov sharply, narrowing his eyes at him. "Do you forget, Black, that he's the one you need to destroy-"
"Look, Roman," interrupted Orion gruffly, "I don't tell you how to lead the Aux and you don't tell me how to lead my life or how to acquire the power necessary to undergo the VA test. Got it?" He leaned forward, and pinned him with his gaze. "Now, there's something I need to ask of you-" He held up a hand the moment he saw the wizard about to retort something, and continued bitingly, "I'm not asking you to help me, don't worry about that. I'm asking you to help Draco Malfoy. I'm sure Rosier has already informed you about what happened last night, so you know that Draco is in a tight spot. He's with me, at present, recovering. But I won't be able to spend much time with him and I want him safe and accompanied. That's why I want you to accept Draco at Durmstrang. Make him use that glamour you mentioned, or whatever is needed so that he has no troubles with the Danish Aurors, but let him attend his last school year here."
Komorov frowned at him, and said sternly, "The Dark Lord is looking for the boy. I cannot jeopardize the lives of other students just to-"
"You can't refuse, Roman," snapped Orion, piercing him with a hard gaze. "He's very valuable to the Spirits, given his bloodlines, isn't he? I'm sure they want him to be safe. And there's a precedent. After Voldemort's first rise, Karkaroff opened the gates of Durmstrang to dark wizarding families fleeing from England. That how's Calypso and her dad came to be here, after all. This school was a sanctuary for them, and it has to be again for others during this new war." He grimly shook his head, and muttered, "Think about it, Roman. It will not only be Draco. The other Slytherins might need to leave Hogwarts at some point."
The young Headmaster remained silent, still frowning, and Orion said quietly, "Will you at least consider it?"
"Yes," said Komorov at last, intently gazing at him. "I will think about it, Black."
"Good," breathed out Orion, relief sweeping over him. He glanced at the man, and said coolly, "I hope that you won't block this office's floo connection from me."
"I won't," said Komorov curtly. "The Spirits want you to have access to them. You'll still be able to floo in here, but remember that you can no longer openly show yourself around the school. Not for now, at least. After I deal with the Danish Minister and the Board of Governors, we'll see."
"I understand," said Orion, with a stiff nod.
"It's time to leave, mein junge," said Grindelwald, rising to his feet. He shot Komorov a crooked smirk, and added placidly, "Our dear boy, here, is killing me today."
Komorov's dark blue eyes pierced Orion, before his gaze flickered back to the old German wizard. "I see. The Spirits will be glad to hear it."
"Ja, indeed they will," said Grindelwald, chuckling with amusement. He toothily grinned at the wizard. "Herr Komorov, do convey to them my nastiest farewell."
The young Headmaster stared at the older wizard, seemingly not knowing quite what to reply, and wisely simply gauging the former Dark Lord in silence.
Grindelwald's grin spread. "You were well chosen, Herr Komorov. You'll be a worthy leader of the Aux for our Vindico."
He swiftly turned to Orion, who was now standing beside him, and he flicked his wand at the two of them. Immediately, Orion was robbed with a black cloak, its hood over his head, casting his face in shadows, and he saw that Grindelwald had conjured the same on himself.
"Where to, Gellert?" murmured Orion, approaching the fireplace.
"To wizarding Zurich, mein junge," replied Grindelwald cheerfully, as he grasped a handful of floo powder from the mantelpiece and stepped inside the hearth. "I'll apparate us from there."
Orion climbed by his side, and his gaze landed on Komorov, who was still seated behind his desk, silently observing them. He pierced the young Headmaster with his eyes, and said quietly, feeling it was necessary, "Vulcan was dying, as you very well knew, Roman. None of us could have done anything to stop it. His death grieves me, but I'm grateful to him and I respect the choices he made. And so should you."
Komorov met his gaze, yet he remained quiet, and before he could even blink, Grindelwald was already flinging the floo powder, saying joyfully, "Die Tanzenfee, Zürich!"
"Die Rheinfall, splendid if it weren't for the disgusting muggles! Ja?" said Grindelwald over the rushing sounds, the moment their feet touched ground. He took a deep lungful of air, and sighed contently. "It's gut to be back… so close to motherland..."
Orion quizzically gazed at the older wizard before his attention was inevitably captured by his surroundings. They were standing on a rocky boulder right besides the waterfall, which wasn't impressive in its height but in its breadth. A green valley spread before them, with the Rhine river coursing along forested banks with scattered country houses of wealthy muggles, restaurants for tourists and a circus of souvenir stalls. Some distance away, he could see hordes of muggles crowding by spots in both banks, in search of the best camera angle. There was an arched footbridge crossing from one bank to the other, and various observation decks packed with more muggles. A boat carrying adventurous tourists was scurrying around in the spray of the waterfalls, not too far away from them. There was a turreted castle on a cliff directly above the falls, which completed the scene, and he could see a suburban muggle town in the distance.
The summer breeze was pleasurably chilly, and the roar of rushing cascades of water lulled him into a cradling peacefulness, but it was continuously broken by the boisterous yells of tourists. Grindelwald was right, it would have been lovely if it wasn't plagued by hordes of camera-flashing muggles; if it could be admired in peaceful silence and enjoyed.
"Come, mein junge, before some muggle spots us and wonders why we're dressed so strangely," said Grindelwald with a crooked smirk, as he led the way into a nearby patch of forest.
Orion watched how the wizard used the Phoenix wand to cast muggle-repelling charms around the area, before the wizard conjured a tent. It looked like the kind of tent that wealthy muggles liked to have on their gardens by the pool-side, a simple ensemble of white fabric perched on four wooden posts, and when the breeze flapped its opening to one side, he saw two plush couches inside.
Once he made sure that the sword at his back still remained invisible, he made a move to get inside the tent, but he was stopped by a hand on his shoulder.
"My conversation with Albus will be private, mein junge," said Grindelwald sternly, flicking his wand at the tent.
Orion gazed up at him, scowling. "That wasn't-"
He clamped his mouth shut and tensed when Grindelwald snapped his head up. He had felt it as well, and he slowly turned around to encounter Dumbledore a few paces away from them. The old wizard was inspecting his surroundings with curiosity, obviously having just apparated there. Dumbledore looked the same as always; brimming with good health and his manner that of supreme calmness, with one sole difference – the old wizard's right hand was blackened and withered, and Orion felt immense satisfaction knowing that the Necromantic curse he had shot at the old man had done such irreparable damage.
Abruptly, when Dumbledore's gaze landed on them, a strange kind of tension vibrated in the air. But Orion noticed that the old wizard wasn't looking at him at all, the old man was fixedly staring at Grindelwald. He now felt as if he was watching a match, with him being at the sidelines and the older wizards being the wrestling forces. Grindelwald's hazel, hawk-like gaze was closely inspecting every feature of Dumbledore's face and body, with focused intensity, as if drinking in every detail, something in his expression looking hungry and yearning. Dumbledore, in return, looked as if he was being confronted by a ghost of the past. There was a hint of wariness and pain in the old man's blue eyes, and his expression slightly slack.
"You haven't aged a day since I last saw you," murmured Dumbledore, fixedly staring at the German wizard.
Grindelwald shot him a toothy grin, and said silkily, "Why, thank you, Albus. I find you as handsome as ever too."
Dumbledore seemed to snap out of it, and his expression instantly turned solemnly closed off and calm.
"A lovely meeting place, Gellert," said the old wizard placidly, as if he had come over for tea, biscuits and a nice day in the country.
"You should have seen it before, when it wasn't overrun by filthy muggles," said Grindewald, crookedly smirking. "And didn't I tell you, long ago, that I wanted to show you my favorite places in the world? Alas, you never gave me the opportunity, Albus."
"You never deserved it, Gellert," said Dumbledore calmly, gazing at wizard over the top of his half-moon glasses.
Grindelwald looked irked for a moment, before a dazzling, charming smile spread on his face, taking a step forward to be inches away from the other wizard. "There's still time to fix that. A mere word from you, Albus, and I can take you away from all of this. Let's leave it all behind us, start again, just the two of us. Let the newer generations worry about the fate of the wizarding world, and let's spend what is left of our life in peaceful isolation. What do you say?"
Orion instantly tensed, surreptitiously drawing out his wand and tightly clutching it, as he closely regarded both wizards. He wasn't quite sure what Grindelwald was attempting to do. Was the wizard's offer sincere? If so, he wouldn't let it happen. Yet, it was possible that it was a mere trick, a scheme to confuse Dumbledore, so that the old wizard wouldn't suspect that he would be killing Grindelwald right after that meeting. He wasn't certain, and the shift between barded bantering and soft persuasions had been too abrupt and unexpected.
"I'm afraid it's too late for reconciliations, Gellert," said Dumbledore quietly, a hint of sadness flickering in the wizard's eyes, but it was gone so quickly that Orion would have missed it if he hadn't been observing the old man's reaction so closely.
"We'll see about that," interjected Grindelwald, widely smirking. He gestured at the tent, and said gallantly, "Shall we continue our conversation in a more comfortable setting?"
Dumbledore glanced at the tent and flicked out his wand, parting the flaps open, as he took a step forward. "Yes, I admit I'm curious to know why you wanted to see me, Gellert. I am willing to listen-"
The old wizard broke off, and Orion found himself being pierced by Dumbledore's blue eyes, who seemed to have finally become aware of his presence. However, he wasn't looking at Dumbledore, but at the wand the old wizard was still grasping in his left hand.
He saw the Elder wand being swiftly pocketed, and Dumbledore said warmly, "I'm glad to see you're well, my dear boy." He gazed at him over the brim of his half-moon glasses, and added quietly, "It's not too late for you, child. I hope that after this you'll accept to have a talk between us. Gellert hasn't been able to answer your questions, has he? I can explain-"
"This wasn't part of the deal, Albus," interrupted Grindelwald sternly, taking a step between them. "It's you and I who are going to sit down for a chat, not you and the boy."
"Afraid of what he might discover?" said Dumbledore, smiling at the German wizard.
"Nein," replied Grindelwald, narrowing his eyes at the man. "I never lied to him and I doubt that what you have to say will change his views."
Dumbledore's smile broadened. "I think the boy should decide-"
"The boy," interrupted Orion through gritted teeth, his jaw clenching, "has no interest in hearing you out." He shot a hard glance at Grindelwald, before gazing back at Dumbledore. "Gellert will answer any question I have. I trust him far more than I will ever trust you."
Grindelwald smirked at Dumbledore, and immediately steered him into the tent before the wizard had a chance to say anything else. When the tent's flaps closed behind them, Orion was left alone in the middle of the small forest clearing, seething and troubled. Seething because the Elder Wand was in his reach but he could do nothing for now, since he had signed the damned magical contract. And troubled because he didn't know what Grindelwald was up to. One thing was certain; he wouldn't kill the German wizard until he had his answers. But he wouldn't play into Dumbledore's hands either. Grindelwald would be the one to answer his questions, nobody else.
Nevertheless, he was itching to know what those two were saying to one another at present. So he didn't think about it twice and he went around the tent, trying to eavesdrop. He frowned when no muted voices reached his ears, and he swiftly flicked his wand to cancel the anti-spying and silencing charms that he felt tingling around the tent.
He swished his wand, and abruptly, before he could mutter the spell, some kind of force slammed into him and he was volleyed back into the air. He painfully crashed on the ground, several feet away from the tent, and let out a groan. With his head dizzy, he slowly got to his feet, cursing Grindelwald under his breath. The old wizard knew him too well. It was obvious that he wouldn't be able to listen in on them unless he used a powerful spell to break down the charms, and that would defeat the purpose since it would alert the wizards inside that he was spying on them.
In the end, Orion could do nothing but sulkily scowl and sit down on a flat boulder, waiting for the old wizards to finish their 'reunion'. The minutes stretched by, with no sounds coming from the tent –those two could be throttling each other and he would be none the wiser, or worse, making out . Orion grimaced and carded his fingers through his hair. He sincerely hoped it wasn't the latter. And anyway, he couldn't see it happening. It was certain that Grindelwald wanted to discuss some personal stuff between them, but Dumbledore hadn't seemed ready to forgive or forget anything. Furthermore, the German wizard had to be spinning some lies to make sure that Dumbledore would never even suspect that he was going to kill Grindelwald. And he trusted his mentor, so he wouldn't dwell on the matter further. It was Grindelwald's right to have a last conversation with Dumbledore before dying, after all; to set his affairs, as the German wizard had said.
Therefore, he turned his mind to more productive musings. Namely, what he would say to Voldemort, since Calypso was right. He had to fix matters with Voldemort. The Dark had to be united to win the war in England. And given that Voldemort was demanding explanations, he would need to disclose some truths. He would see the wizard today, after killing Grindelwald, before anything reached Voldemort's ears from other sources. Now, he had to decide how much to tell and what to conceal under half-truths or lies.
Orion frowned, and schemed in silence, his mind going through all the possible scenarios. He had been so deep in thought that he hadn't realized that an hour had already crept by, when the flaps of the tent parted open.
He jumped to his feet and saw Dumbledore coming out from the tent, closely followed by Grindelwald. He intently observed their expressions to have an inkling of what had been going on inside the tent, but he couldn't garner anything. Dumbledore's face wore its usual calm and collected mask, and Grindelwald's expression was completely closed off, only bearing a crooked smirk.
"I hope this isn't the last of our encounters, Albus," said Grindelwald, openly leering at the other wizard, his hazel haze travelling along Dumbledore's body, blatantly appreciative.
Orion grimaced but kept his silence, and Dumbledore merely spared Grindelwald a glance, before he turned to Orion and gazed at him over his half-moon spectacles.
"If you want to talk, my dear boy," said Dumbledore quietly, "I'll make sure you can reach me by owl."
Orion pierced the old wizard with his eyes but said nothing, as Grindelwald reached his side and placed a hand on his shoulder. Then he saw that look of concentration spreading over Dumbledore's aged features; that expression before a wizard apparated. And something in him seethed and hardened. He couldn't do it. He couldn't miss the chance. The Elder Wand was so close by, and the magical contract he had signed was about to expire the moment Dumbledore left.
And without a second thought, he ripped away from Grindelwald's grasp and he flung himself at Dumbledore, tightly clutching the old man's left arm.
Dumbledore gasped, and the last thing Orion saw was the old man's startled expression as they were pitched into a whirlpool of tightening space and rushing colors, and the last thing he heard were Grindelwald's crowing chortles.
The moment his feet landed on parqueted floors, feeling a bit disoriented, Orion caught sight of a bunch of unknown wizards and witches staring at him, most of them much older than him and a few looking in their mid twenties or thirties. Dumbledore had taken a step back away, still looking startled but now also alarmed. And before Orion could even blink, the other wizards and witches, gathered in what looked like a vast home office of some wealthy muggle, erupted into exclamations in so many different languages he couldn't understand any of it, except his own name being cried in fury and outrage.
"No, don't attack!" he heard Dumbledore yelling authoritatively.
But it was too late, Orion found himself assaulted by a volley of spells, and none of the people there seemed to be willing to halt their actions. He instantly whipped out his wand, and swiftly yelled every spell and curse he could think of, swerving and twisting as he blocked spell after spell, shooting whatever dark curse he could in between. He saw some of the wizards struck by his curses, some toppling to the floor, others crashing against the wall, but the assault seemed to intensify, becoming chaotic and relentless.
He was forced back, though every time he could his gaze searched for Dumbledore, for that was his target. In a brief second, he saw how the old man was protectively surrounded by several witches and wizards, at the other end of the room. Furthermore, he now recognized some of their clothes; a few were wearing the light blue robes of French Aurors, and some others that of Italian or Spanish.
Orion retaliated as much as he could, blasting wizards away, shooting at them the most vicious and incapacitating of dark curses, but there were simply too many of them. And Dumbledore was being protected too zealously, and quite clearly ignored in his continued orders to stop the attack. Moreover, he didn't have the faintest idea of where he was, though it was obvious that the place must be Dumbledore's headquarters, and clearly not of the Order, but of the man's international allies.
He was heavily panting, his muscles aching, his forehead drenched in sweat, but he had managed to block every spell and he didn't have a single injury on him. His heart was pounding fast, adrenaline pumped through his veins, his mind rushed with the thought of the curse he was casting in the next second, yet it was clear to him that he wouldn't defeat them and make it out alive or unrestrained unless he used his wild, dark magic. He didn't like the idea of showing them what he could do, he preferred that it came as a surprise at some battlefield, but he was running out of options.
Orion was about to spread out his left hand to pour out his dark magic, when Dumbledore's voice rose above all others, sounding alarmed, and – fearful?
"DON'T, ARI-"
Suddenly, all sounds and voices around him muted and all the beams of light that had been careening towards him seemed to slow down, being absorbed by a wall of vibrating magic which had abruptly sprung up a few paces away from him, separating him from the rest.
Orion stood rock still and his eyes widened when he saw one wizard cross the wall of magic, ever so calmly, while the rest seemed to be trying to bring it down - unsuccessfully. He couldn't hear the voices of the rest of the wizards and witches, but he saw how their spells crashed against the mantle of magic, over and over again, without passing through.
His eyes finally snapped up to gaze at the wizard who was now standing before him, observing him with a small smile on his face, and he couldn't stiffle back his gasp. The wizard looked young, in his mid twenties, clothed in elegant and rich dark blue robes, with a handsome face of chiseled and manly features, much like the Greek or Roman muggle statues he had seen in textbooks, perfection in the straight lines of the nose and the strong jaw, curly locks of bronze hair, warm cerulean blues eyes, a kind of innocent benevolence and goodness in his features, and an angelic smile which tugged the wizard's lips. Yet, it was belied by a quirked twist in the lips and by the dangerousness which lurked in the young man's blue eyes.
He had never met the wizard, but he recognized the strange, disturbing smile from his visions – and it had been from one he had that very same morning, that in itself was unusual. The things he saw in his visions never happened so fast, with so little forewarning. Furthermore, he felt an astoundingly powerful aura of light magic coming off from the wizard, pressing all over him, feeling almost suffocating. He had never felt such light magic from anyone, not even Dumbledore. And there was something very perturbing about it, since the magic not only felt overwhelming but also wild, stormy, and barely controlled. It made every single hair of his body stand up, his skin prickle with goosebumps, and his own inner magical core react as if being confronted by an opposing, threatening force.
"Orion Black, at last," breathed out the young wizard, his smile widening, his cerulean blue eyes hungrily inspecting him, his tone of voice excited and carrying a strange mixture of several accents. "I've waited so long to meet you, Orion." He let out a low, rumbling chuckle, "And here you are – dropping on my lap!"
Orion quickly gathered back his wits, squaring his shoulders, grasping his wand tightly, on guard, and he asked shortly, though he already had an inkling, "Who are you?"
"Why, I would have thought that you had figured it out," said the wizard, taking a step forward which made Orion instinctively back away, finding himself pressed against the wall behind him. The young man's smile widened, and he bore his cerulean blue eyes into Orion's, as he said exultantly, "I am Arian Hyperion Valenor, lately officially adopted to rightfully become a Dumbledore. Do you know what my names mean? Arian, holy one, that of a golden life, though my life has been anything but golden. And Hyperion, my middle name, in muggle Greek mythology, the name of a Titan who presided over the Sun and Light! Oui, that's me!"
Suddenly, the wizard grasped Orion's chin, a finger slowly caressing his cheek, as the young man's angelic smile turned amused, warm, yet dangerous. "And you are Orion Black, the one who'll become the Vindico Atrum. My predestined nemesis, n'est ce pas?" He chuckled under his breath. "I like to call myself the Vindico Lumen, it's only fair." He cocked his head to a side, grinning. "Arian and Orion… it sounds as if it had been fated, hmm? And it has a nice ring to it, don't you think?"
"No, I don't," said Orion sharply, tensely gripping his wand by his side as he narrowed his eyes at the wizard. "You were named Arian after your grandmother, and Hyperion after your father, right? And Dumbledore is your granduncle, and he legally adopted you, correct? And you obviously know as much as he does, but I don't know what you're talking about. Vindico Lumen? Nemesis? What's this rubbish?"
"I would like nothing more than to sit down for a chat," said the wizard, his lips quirking upwards. "Indeed, I would like to share confidences, though I already know much about you." He pierced him with his eyes, and widely smiled, before he leaned forward and whispered into his ear, "You have been Sextus Peverell, Regulus Black, and so many others… I know you remember, but tell me, don't you remember me?"
Orion snapped his head back, shocked, his eyes wide. "That's impossible - How do you-" He shook his head, cleared his throat, and leveled him with a seething glare as he hissed out, "How the fuck do you know? And why the bloody hell should I remember you? I've never met you in my life!"
"Oh, relax, Orion," said the wizard with a placid smile, his voice then turning cutting, and sharply sarcastic, "My dear granduncle doesn't know. I would never tell him either. It's between us, hmm?" He swiftly captured Orion's chin again, and added softly, "But I'm hurt that you don't remember me. Not from this life, Orion, but from the past." His cerulean blues eyes pierced searching into Orion's, and he let go off his face with a tsk of disappointment. "You don't. Oh, well, there'll be time for that."
"For what?" bit out Orion, getting more jittery and nervous by the second, though he completely concealed how the wizard made him feel.
"To get as well acquainted as we have been in our past lives, of course," said Arian smoothly, shooting him a dazzling, warm, angelic smile. "But you should leave now. There're more wizards coming here, and as much as I would enjoy watching you fending them off, you'll be vastly outnumbered, and thus, outmatched. Kill the old man and get the Elder Wand at some other opportunity. You won't succeed this time."
Orion stared at him with round eyes, before he narrowed them, and bit out, "What are you playing at? You're a light wizard and Dumbledore is your granduncle-"
"I couldn't care less if he died, painfully if possible," interjected Arian sharply. A large smile curved his lips, and he added in a silky whisper, "I'm not like any other light wizard you have ever met. I don't play by anyone's rules, Orion. And I want you to become the Vindico Atrum. I've waited for it for far too long. You'll be no challenge for me unless you become it."
"Challenge?" said Orion angrily. "What do you-"
"I mean that for now, I'll help you," interrupted Arian coolly. He shot him a warm smile, and trailed a finger down Orion's cheek. "After you become the VA, I'll play with you for a while, and when I get bored, I'll defeat you - as simple as that. Until then, you have nothing to fear from me."
"Aren't you full of yourself," snapped Orion, seething as he aggressively swatted the man's caressing finger away from his face. "I have nothing to fear from you at present! If you want to duel, then let's-"
"As I said, you're no challenge now," said Arian sharply. He shook his head, chuckling. "You haven't changed. As impetuous as always, with that quick, fiery temper of yours, and still so passionate, n'est ce pas?" He bore his blue eyes into his, his lips quirking upwards. "I wouldn't mind being the recipient of that again. Hmm, perhaps I will be, before I take you down. I'll think about it."
Orion bristled, and snarled enraged, "I don't know what you're talking about and I don't give a fuck either-"
"Hush," snapped Arian, suddenly stiffening and turning his head around.
Frowning, Orion followed the wizard's gaze, and was abruptly reminded of his surroundings. The young wizard had captured his attention so completely that he had quite forgotten about the other light witches and wizards. The wall of magic was still shimmering between them and the others, and only their muted voices filtered through, as if coming from a great distance. Nevertheless, spells were still being shot into the glowing mantle of magic and he now saw more wizards and witches running into the room from a door at the other end. Amidst the enlarging crowd of light wizards and witches, he could see Dumbledore staring at them, with a perturbed and tense expression on his face.
"You must leave now," said Arian sharply, facing him again. "I'll hold them off for a few minutes." He shot him a wide, beatific smile. "After all, I am known for my capricious ways and they would never dare go against me. Take the door to the left, the corridor to the right, and go into the room at the end, there you can get out the window. Oh, and take the garbage out."
Orion shot him a frown and an unfriendly glare, but he didn't think about it twice. He swiftly casted a powerful shielding charm on himself –he wouldn't trust the young wizard to not attack him behind his back- and he rushed through the wall of light magic. It uncomfortably tingled through his body, and then he was dashing towards the left door, as he ducked from an incoming curse, and while his ears were filled once more by loud voices hollering spells. In a flash, he was pelting along a corridor and he flicked his wand to bang open the door at the further end.
He glanced over his shoulder, and saw no one coming, though he could distantly hear loudly arguing voices, angered and demanding. With a heavy pant, he hurtled inside the room and shut the door behind him, casting several blocking wards on it. He turned around, his gaze quickly searching for the window, supposedly the way out, but he froze when he encountered something utterly unexpected. A horrified gasp stifled in his throat and he took a step towards the lump crouching and whimpering at one corner - obviously, what Arian had referred to as 'the garbage'.
It was a wizard, gaunt, slack faced, the wide eyes unfocused, the mouth distorted into a fixed grimace of agony, incoherent blubberings and whimpers coming out from it, saliva dribbling down, and with a limp arm hanging on the floor, it's skin heavily scarred, as if it had been repeatedly fleshed out by crazed fingernails, though the Dark Mark branded on it was still intact. It was Barty Crouch Jr., who had evidently been tortured to insanity. Orion's jaw clenched with fury, but as his gaze took in the rest of the room, he saw that there was a comfortable bed against one wall, along with a tray with untouched food, and a door which led to a small but tidy bathroom. Given the wizard's proper living conditions, even though he was obviously their prisoner, the light wizards hadn't been the ones to do this to Barty. It could have only been Voldemort, through the Dark Mark. He understood why; Voldemort must have tortured Barty to insanity before the light wizards could get any information from him. However, it didn't make it right. Voldemort could have tried to get Barty back, and the wizard had never even attempted it.
Suddenly, he heard rushing feet thundering along the corridor outside, and he didn't waste a second.
"Avada Kedavra!" yelled Orion, wand aimed directly at Barty's chest.
The green beam of light struck the mindless lump of a wizard, and the body slumped to the floor. Death, a small mercy for the one who had once been Voldemort's favorite.
Spells were now pounding and crashing against the door he had warded, but it wouldn't hold for too long. He glanced one last time at the body on the floor, before he swiftly reached the only window in the room, small and barred.
"Bombarda!" he snapped, putting the necessary power behind the spell.
Pieces of bricks and debris exploded outwards, and a gaping, crumbling hole was now torn into the destroyed wall. Orion immediately stepped on the ledge of the opening, and his eyes widened when he saw that he was three floors up, a muggle street beneath him, and the Eiffel Tower rising in the distance. He was in Paris – in muggle Paris, at that. From far away, he could hear the wail of a siren, muggle police or firebombers; some neighbor must have called about the sound of an explosion. Furthermore, he saw that down bellow, passersby's on the street were gazing up at him, pointing.
Orion took a step back, flicked his wand at himself twice, hissing, casting the parsel-invisibility spell and a cushioning bubble charm. And just when he heard the door banging open, an avalanche of voices yelling a volley of spells, he ran and plunged into a freefall. He missed smashing a muggle flat by sheer luck, and he bounced on the asphalt three times, before he unsteadily rose to his feet. Without another hitch of breath, he pelted down the muggle street, swerving to avoid the befuddled muggles and the police cars which were rushing to the scene.
Out of his breath, he finally reached a charming, narrow Parisian street, and he scrunched his eyes shut, concentrating with all his might to recall what the Rhine Falls looked like. In the bat of an eyelash, he felt the uncomfortable tightening of space around his body, and he let out a tired sigh as he was carried far away.
He landed in the middle of the small clearing in the forest, but the tent was gone. Not only that, Grindelwald was nowhere in sight. Alarm flared up in him, and Orion rushed through the forest, frantically looking for the man, feeling a troubled sense of panic. Merlin knew what the old German wizard could do whilst being utterly free and unsupervised. He was already thinking the worse, when he finally caught sight of the man.
Grindewald was lounging by the river's shore, apparently happily soaking his feet. Relief washed over Orion as he reached the old wizard, leaning down to place a hand on the man's shoulder.
"How did it go, mein junge?" said Grindelwald jovially, turning his face to gaze up at him. "Did you get the Wand?"
Orion blinked at him. The Elder Wand? That was the farthest thing from his thoughts at present. He couldn't care less about the bloody wand now. Dumbledore had it but he obviously couldn't destroy it or he would have done so long ago. Furthermore, he was already the wand's Master and he didn't need it for anything except for when he was ready to undergo the VA test, and he had no intention of attempting that until he was sure he was powerful enough to survive it – and he knew he still wasn't. No, the Elder Wand was the least of his problems.
"We need to talk," he said sternly, piercing the old wizard with a hard gaze.
Grindelwald frowned at him. "What has happened, mein junge?"
"Ariana's descendant has happened," said Orion gruffly. "And I want my bloody answers once and for all, Gellert."
"You met her descendant?" said Grindelwald stunned, his eyes marginally widening. He shook his head, and said quietly, "I've already told you that I don't know anything about Ariana's son-"
"It wasn't Hyperion," interrupted Orion shortly. "It was her grandson. I don't know anything about Hyperion. I don't know if the man's still alive!" He kicked a peeble into the rushing river, and glowered at the old wizard. "And you must know something, Gellert. Anything will serve. I just need-" He tightly clenched his hands into fists, and bit out, "I need answers!"
Grindelwald sighed, casting the falls a lingering, longing glance, before he swiftly rose up to his bare feet, flicking his wand to get them into his dragonhide boots.
"Very well, mein junge," he said, shooting him a crooked smirk. "I don't know much about Ariana's descendants, but I'll tell you the little I do. And I'll answer all the questions you asked last night. But not here. There's one last place I want to see, and there's where you'll kill me once we're done."
Before Orion could bat an eyelash, the old wizard tightly gripped his arm and he was plunged into an apparition, his stomach sickly churning this time.
The moment he took in the panorama before him, he stiffened, trepidation crawling through every bone in his body, while something lodged in his throat. Snow, there was snow everywhere – during summer. And he knew what would come; heat and snow, and the waves of pain, the convulsing, the blackness, and then the female voice crooning a triumphant 'yes'.
He glanced at Grindelwald, who seemed absorbed by his surroundings, the wizard's expression peaceful, relaxed and also melancholic, the man's gaze taking everything in, almost caressingly.
"Yes, I will kill you here," said Orion quietly, feeling a pit of dejection abruptly sinking into his chest.
Grindelwald glanced at him over his shoulder, shooting him a toothy grin. "Ja, you will."
