Disclaimer: This story is based on characters created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoat Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

AN:

A reviewer brought up the subject about Orion's relationship with several people at the same time, and I'm glad that she/he did, because I've seen that it's something that bothers many readers or that is disliked. So I'll try to clear it up, or rather, explain it from my point of view.

But before that, a clarification: The Black Heir was labeled as HPLV but this fic wasn't –I mentioned this before, I bring it up again because it was asked once more- so it was implied that in this fic Orion could end up with anyone.

Now, the way I see it, of why Orion has now 3 lovers and why it doesn't necessarily mean that he's doing something wrong or bad:

Firstly, it's not that he's being unfaithful to Voldemort or Lezander, or Draco for that matter. He has never 'cheated' them. He didn't go behind their backs, he openly told them what he wanted and they agreed to keep on having a relationship with him even if he was with others. And they, as well, came to decisions to not regard Orion as their 'only one', so to speak, like when Lezander decided that he wanted to take Draco as his official mate, and like when Voldemort decided to break the marital bond and stop treating Orion as his 'consort'. (And I wouldn't see Voldemort as a victim by any stretch of the imagination, even if Orion bedded the entire wizarding world.)

So you see, in the complex lives they have, each of them made a decision to stay together yet allow certain freedom in their lives, because if not, they wouldn't be able to manage everything. Draco did this as well; even when he had already slept with Orion he was still considering a marriage with a pureblood girl –until he received Blaise's letter telling him the Greengrass family wanted nothing to do with him anymore. It doesn't mean, though, that he will not marry and have a new Lady Malfoy just because he wants Orion. He has his own duties to fulfill.

Secondly, which comes hand-in-hand with the above, in the world they live, given their respective duties to their bloodline and their respective plans and ambitions, they can't afford to simply marry for love or be with their only one for the rest of their lives. It simply doesn't work like that, the way I imagine it. Being in love and staying with that person is a luxury for them, and they adjusted as well as they could given each of their circumstances.

You must remember that they are not ordinary people. Draco is a Malfoy, Lezander a vampire Rege, Voldemort a Dark Lord, and Orion the so-called prophet who has to lead the Dark and who's every decision affects not only him but the politics of the wizarding world.

It's like in past, when royalty and wealthy people had to marry for political, social or financial reasons, while the ordinary people didn't have to care about such things. And this still happens in our times in certain circles and countries, so I find it easy to believe and understand.

And finally, I see Orion as someone who once he gives his heart to another and forms attachments, then isn't able or desires to cut those ties. He wants to keep by his side those he loves and that is why he has accumulated three lovers, so to speak.

His first relationship was with Lezander and even if he stopped loving the vampire, Orion wouldn't be able to easily let go of him. Then the first member of his family of his age he came to know and befriend was Draco, and they developed a close friendship, thus Orion wouldn't let go of him either. And of course, Voldemort has been a fixture in his life as well, starting with locket Tom.

All of them, even if they didn't feel romantic love for one another, are bound to Orion in many ways: by blood, family and friendship, in the case of Orion/Draco; by the 'first love' and lifemate issue in the case of Orion/Lezander; and by their ambitions, Dark side politics, and more or less similar levels of power and dark magic which gives them similar status, in the case of Orion/Voldemort.

Furthermore, the three of them have been vastly important in his life and Orion, as we have seen, has a possessive streak to him of not letting go those who are close to him – it could be due to the lack of care he suffered with the Dursleys, which made him grasp those who showered him with any small amount of love and attention, and it can also be due to the things I mentioned in the paragraph above.

Therefore, all in all, Orion is extremely loyal in that regard, not unfeeling or unfaithful. In my opinion, he would be 'unfaithful' if he didn't care about them, if he threw Lezander and Draco to away just to be with Voldemort, or the other way around.

All of this is why I imagined Orion ending up in the situation in which he is now. But this doesn't mean –as I pointed out in a previous Author's Note- that it will stay this way forever.

On another note, a reviewer asked why Orion hadn't marked Patrick Connolly –Remus' Beta. If you'll remember, Orion had indeed told Connolly that he would one day mark him, but Connolly didn't want to be part of a group of children (referring to the Elite) and Orion had then vaguely mentioned a group of adults into which Connolly would fit in perfectly as a liaison with the werewolves (referring to the Aux Atrum).

And for that Orion wanted to someday introduce Connolly to Morgana's spirit and reveal the Vindico Atrum issue to the werewolf, since Connolly wouldn't agree to become Orion's follower if he didn't have evidence of Orion's importance and 'political power', so to speak. Thus, Orion is indeed planning on making Connolly an Aux Atrum, but this will happen when Orion becomes the VA, since then the Aux would truly become his most loyal followers and thus he would have the right to mark whomever he chooses as an Aux.

Note: Don't kill me for the way this chapters ends. I didn't have time to write more and I thought it would be best to post it as it was than to make you wait even longer for an update. I'll try to write and post the next chapter as soon as I can manage so that I don't leave you hanging. But it will probably be a short one, because I'm really very busy at the moment, so I won't be able to write as much and post as frequently as before.

Nevertheless, I hope you enjoy it and tell me what you think!


Chapter 41

It was utter pandemonium.

Orion shifted to a side as ricocheting beams of spells and curses flew over his head. Without breaking the sphere of rolling waves that had Arian entrapped in its very center, high up in the sky, and directed and maintained with his Death and Life wand in his right hand, he quickly took possession of his Phoenix wand with his left hand and swiftly cast on himself numerous shielding spells.

With all the lessons taught to him by Cyprian and Gellert coming forth in his mind, he repositioned himself to assess the fight and any incoming enemy.

Orion knew what to look for: the angle, bending and positioning of elbows and knees in an enemy, to ascertain the direction in which the attack would come -as Cyprian had hammered into his skull- to notice any possible feints and watch for the positioning of a rival's shoulders to detect if an offensive or defensive attack would follow.

Vampires relied on reading an enemy's stance when fighting, and they raised shields as the need for them arose, relying more on their flash-like reflexes and physical strength to counteract.

Romulus Rosier, during Dark Arts classes at Durmstrang, had taught him a different technique, to firstly raise one basic and powerful shield that would protect him against most mild curses, to cover his front and back, and then cast more shield spells as the need arose.

Gellert's method went beyond that: from the start mounting many shields, one on top of the other, and locking them together, at sides, over the head, at back and front, creating an armor of locked and interlinked shields. This required great power to cast and greater concentration to maintain them, for which was necessary an ordered mind trained in Occlumency to better accomplish it, according to Grindelwald.

Moreover, Cyprian had taught him to always be aware of his position relative to that of his enemies and to the boundaries of the combat area. To always present a side of his torso to the enemy he was facing, showing the least possible surface of his body to be targeted, to keep his back towards the 'walls' and 'corners' of the combat area, leaving enough space in between to never be boxed in. To stay away from the center of combat area if he was facing several enemies since he shouldn't give them more angles from which to strike at him, preferably keeping his back towards a 'wall', diagonally, so that most of his back was covered and he only presented a flank of his body to enemies attacking him from other directions.

Gellert, for his part, had taught him to envision a battlefield as if it were a giant chessboard in which he had to be constantly dancing around, taking the position of a rook and quickly advancing diagonally against his opposer at an unexpected angle, then switching to become a knight and apparating from one square of the chessboard to another several feet away, having the advantage of surprise, then feinting and acting like a peon, simply moving one square forward, and then quickly changing to become a knight and then a tower, and so forth.

Orion had taken all those advices to heart and he was easily putting them into practice, just as he saw his Elite doing the same, since he had taught them much of it during DA lessons. Yet, no one was attacking him. They were all following Arian's orders in that regard.

With his body shimmering with mounted and locked shields of magic, he momentarily watched how the others were doing.

A leader in a battle was like a General of old times, Gellert had frequently insisted. Grindelwald had always said that most of the work a Dark Lord did during battles was merely to observe and direct his fighters from afar, solely focusing on the tactics displayed and changing them along the way as the battle unfolded, but not usually involving himself directly in the fight. Orion understood the reason for it though he didn't necessarily like that leaders directed those under his command from a safe distance. He much preferred to fight with his followers and be right smack in the middle of the action. Nevertheless, in this occasion his self-appointed task was to deal with Arian yet he did take the time now to ascertain how everything was proceeding.

He first caught sight of a wizard in bright yellow robes who was running for cover towards the house. He recognized him as Xenophilius Lovegood. Luna had told him that her father had been invited to the wedding by Arthur Weasley, since they were neighbors. And Orion had promised her dad wouldn't be harmed. He saw to his satisfaction that both the Elite and the Death Eaters were obeying those orders.

Luna had been invited as well, but he had instructed her after the Marking Ceremony to feign a sudden bout of fever and remain in her home, yet allow her father to attend the wedding or it would have been suspicious.

Orion had no doubt that the wizard would cause no trouble. It was clear that the man was not disposed to fight but to protect himself. And from what Luna had told him about her father, he knew that Xenophilius would go along with the new Dark-oriented Ministry that was going to be established; not because the man was a coward, Luna had explained, but because her father would simply go along with those in power in order to protect his family.

Furthermore, Luna would be disclosing many things to her father after that day, primarily about what she had been doing during her summer holidays – about her Necromancy training in the Guild. Xenophilius would not be happy about that but Orion was fairly certain that the man wouldn't be surprised that it came to happen. Luna's father evidently knew that the girl had been born with Necromantic abilities inherited from her mother.

Xenophilius had always kept it a secret from Luna, no doubt afraid that his daughter would experiment with Necromancy and end blowing herself up like his wife had done. But the man would surely see that it was best that Luna continued to be taught by the Guild now that the girl knew what she was, instead of still keeping her in the dark, since an untrained and unguided Necromancer was a danger to him or herself, as Xenophilius' wife had proven.

Apart from that wizard, others were also running for cover, mostly the elderly, some of whom fled into the Burrow. He saw that Hermione was one of those who were plastered against the outer wall of the house, pale faced, frantically casting shielding spells and with a vise-like clutch on Ron, to stop the boy from rushing into the fray.

Not that Ron was making it easy for her, the boy was struggling against her hold, bellowing and kicking. However, in the next second it seemed that Hermione struck him with a confundus charm or something of the sort, since the boy suddenly blinked dazedly and meekly stood behind her as she continued to protect them from ricocheting spells.

Not far from them, Mr. and Mrs. Delacour were huddled together with their youngest daughter, one of them having cast a sphere of shimmering magic which enveloped them and which made beams of curses bounce off.

All the rest were fighting in clusters spread throughout the lawn, among upturned tables, broken chairs and food platters, the wedding cake trampled under their feet.

The once Champions of the Triwizard Tournament had grouped together, with Cedric on the forefront since he was a young Auror, his girlfriend Cho Chang shielded behind him yet still helping by casting spells over Cedric's shoulder. Fleur was flanking him, her once pristinely white bridal gown torn and stained, with her new husband both fiercely fighting and also standing protectively by her side. And by their flank stood Viktor Krum, while they were all being engaged in battle by half of the Elite.

Evander was fighting side to side with his betrothed, both of them dueling with Krum who was angrily bellowing something in Bulgarian to his cousin and to which Kara was replying in kind, looking just as furious. Next to them, Titania and Wenceslas were engaging Bill Weasley and Fleur, and Alexios and Dravana were facing off Cedric and Cho.

A few feet away from them, the rest of the Elite was engaged in battle with Alastor Moody, who all of them knew to be the most dangerous target. The group composed by them was by far the largest one since Moody was being flanked by most of the able-bodied wedding guests, one of them being Arthur Weasley.

Along with Geodrof, Hector, Laiana, Artemisa, Viktor and Kasimir from the Elite, several of the young Death Eaters like Adrian Pucey, Marcus Flint and Max Montague were also battling against the light wizards flanking Moody, while the two older and experienced Death Eaters, Thorfinn and Avery, were directly dueling Moody, and evidently having some trouble keeping up with the powerful ex-Auror.

His father was also standing in the group flanking Moody, as Orion had instructed him to do, so that the former Auror would remember how Sirius had been 'helping' him. After all, up until then Moody still suspected Sirius to be a spy in their midst.

If the Elite's and Death Eaters' curses shot Sirius' way were mild ones that could be easily deflected or shielded against, or if Sirius' own spells were being slightly misaimed, certainly no one was noticing it in the midst of such havoc. His father was, by all appearances, fighting fiercely shoulder to shoulder with Mad-Eye Moody.

The rest of Death Eaters were scattered here and there, in duos or trios fighting against smaller clusters of light wizards and witches.

One of those small groups were composed by Charlie and the Weasley twins, with the latter apparently using a wide array of knickknacks of their own invention, since fireworks were sizzling through the air, puffs of black powder were intermittently thrown into the breeze, momentarily blinding those close by, and small explosions were blasting near Death Eater feet and resounding loudly.

Facing them was Bellatrix, cackling madly and clearly enjoying herself as she easily countered their attacks, like a sadistic cat cruelly playing with mice before wanting to dispatch them quickly as she could very well do if she wanted to, given that she was one of Voldemort's best and most powerful duelers. That was one of the reasons, after all, that she had become the first female Inner Circle Death Eater, and was still one of the few witches in the Dark Lord's ranks.

Suddenly, as Orion glanced to a side, he saw that one of the wedding guests had tried to fly away on a broom and was now falling down towards the ground like a knocked-out gnat, having evidently slammed into the ward Orion had cast.

He also saw a group of elderly wizards and witches coming out from the house, crying loudly about the blocked floo-connection. And he saw that those who had tried to run away from the place had been instantly zapped by the ward and presently laid unconscious on the grass.

Now that he was certain that no one would be able to flee and alert the Aurors or Ministry, he took the next step.

"Launch your attacks!" said Orion quickly, as he touched his throat to convey the message to Remus and Lezander at the same time that he briefly lowered his Occlumency shields to project the same to Voldemort.

He received their respective acknowledgements seconds before cries rose above all others.

"Gred!"

"My son – NO!"

Orion had a moment to glance to a side to see Bellatrix loudly cackling like a deranged hag as George Weasley flew backwards through the air, with blood spurting from one side of his head and apparently his ear hanging off by a mere thread of skin.

Fred and Charlie were rushing towards their brother as the twin struck ground, while Mrs. Weasley was running towards Bellatrix, aiming at the witch's back and looking like a fierce lioness protecting her cubs, with a sobbed war cry on her lips. And Bellatrix was still cackling gleefully, none the wiser, as a beam of light careened towards her from Mrs. Weasley's wand.

"Bella – to your left!" bellowed Orion urgently and with no small amount of anger. It would be the last straw - the shame that it would bring to Black House if the Weasley Matron, of all people, was the one who ended up dispatching Bellatrix.

Thankfully, his aunt swirled around and swiftly dodged the incoming spell, sneering hatefully and flicking her wand in the next second. Molly Weasley flew up into the air and flipped backwards with her robes rolling over her head. Before the chubby witch crashed against one of the sides of the Burrow, Orion impatiently flicked his Phoenix wand at her, casting a cushioning charm.

The last thing he wanted was for Mrs. Weasley ending up with her skull cracked or her neck snapped. Sirius could overlook such an inconsequential damage as the loss of an ear in one of the twins, but not the death of the Weasley Matron.

As the woman hit the wall and slumped unconsciously to the ground, he caught a glimpse of Arthur Weasley letting out an anguished cry as he rushed towards his wife.

But Orion soon forgot about the battles picking up in intensity around him as Bill and Charlie Weasley charged enraged towards Bellatrix. She could hold her own, and his focus returned back to the sphere of water high up in the sky when he felt his Death and Life wand vibrating in his right hand.

He didn't even need to prepare himself when it happened. The sphere of violently rolling waves of water seemed to condense and solidify, and in the next second it exploded outwards with a loud cracking sound, large stake-like shards of ice blasting forth.

As several spikes crashed into the layers of shields surrounding Orion, he heard several cries of pain behind him, undoubtedly from those who hadn't been quick enough to protect themselves. He took a defensive stance, with both of his wands drawn and aiming forward, as Arian floated back onto the ground.

The light wizard looked as well as ever. His torn pale blue robes were crusted with dried blood but it was evident that Arian had healed himself at some point. Nevertheless, the man wasn't acting as Orion had expected.

Arian took one cursory glance at the fights taking place several feet away from them, looking amused and then exasperated when he gazed back at him.

Orion's eyes narrowed to slits. He had been counting on Arian rushing to the light wizards' aid. He had been counting on threatening him with their death in order to make him go to the English Ministry of Magic where Voldemort would help in ambushing and capturing the light wizard.

Something must have showed in his face because Arian shook his head and chuckled.

"Were you expecting me to be a soft-hearted hero wanting to save them all, hmmm? I told you once that I'm not like any light wizard you have ever met, n'est ce pas?" He shot Orion a pearly-white, dazzling smile. "I will not rush to the rescue of those who are of little use to me. They are Albus' loyal pets, thus, they aren't worth my time and effort. One of them, though, is."

Orion frowned, before he scoffed snidely, a challenging tone lacing his voice, "So you're simply going to let my followers and I kill them?"

"Ah, but I don't think you plan on killing them at all," interjected Arian, his smile widening as he cocked his head to a side. "No, I think you only want to put them out of commission. Since if you're here, I surmise that Voldemort is staging a coup on the English Ministry of Magic as we speak."

"Then you should be heading there, don't you think?" said Orion coolly, still directly aiming at him. "Or will you do nothing while the Dark takes over England?"

"If taking hold of it is what it takes for you to feel confident enough to undergo the VA test, then, yes, I will do nothing and let you have your fun," quipped Arian as his azure blue eyes gleamed. "What is England but a small country in the whole, hmm?"

Suddenly, Orion felt something strange tickling his nose and he let out a scornful bark of laughter in the next second. "Your Veela thrall will not work on me this time."

"Found a spell to counteract it, hmm?" mused Arian, eyeing him with a disappointed look but still appearing unfazed by it.

The light wizard said nothing else and they stood gazing at each other, neither of them moving or speaking, in a kind of silent and bizarre stalemate while bellows of curses and cries of pain kept rising all around them.

Orion wished nothing else but to be able to see into the light wizard's thoughts. Arian was simply calmly regarding him without drawing out his wand, as if patiently waiting for something.

Bristling, Orion didn't think about it twice and instantly leapt towards him as he shot out a myriad of dark curses with his two wands. It soon became a parody of a duel, as Arian parried back by conjuring magical shields, dodged, or simply danced out of the way from the curses, never once going on an offensive mode, never even taking out his wand.

"Fight back!" roared Orion angrily when Arian once again swirled out of the way from one of his spells.

Arian chortled, evidently enjoying himself, and suddenly quickly disapparated when Orion rushed towards him in a flash of movement. Orion, tense and on guard, glanced around to see where the wizard had gone to.

It didn't surprise him that Arian was able to apparate even under the strong and powerful ward he had cast on the Burrow. Yet he still felt the wizard's presence – Arian hadn't left, and it made him wonder why. If the light wizard had no interest in helping out the Weasleys and the wedding guests, then why hadn't Arian fled already?

Then he remembered what the wizard had said, about one of them being of some worth to him. He quickly glanced over his shoulder, trying to ascertain who it could be from the many light wizards fighting against the Elite and Death Eaters – if he could figure that out, he could use it to make Arian bend to his will.

But he didn't have the chance to discern much from the fighting going on other than his forces seemed to be wearing out the light wizards. His Elite and the Death Eaters were now surrounding them and forcing them back to regroup and form a single cluster in the middle of the garden, the fighting light wizards protectively circling their fellows who had fallen and were groaning on the ground.

It happened so out of the blue and quickly, that Orion didn't see it coming and was momentarily startled. He heard a rustling sound coming from the patch of woods at his right, and suddenly several trees seemed to come alive, with roots for legs and branches for arms and they all rushed at him.

Orion instantly swished his two wands continuously, blasting them away, but they were so many, and more and more trees kept uprooting from the woods. It was like what Dumbledore had done with the gold statues of the Ministry of Magic – Transanimation, what Gellert had once explained to him.

It was an army of them now and he was hard tasked, even with his flash-like reflexes, to shred them all to pieces as all the trees scrambled towards him. He was almost being forced to retreat backwards, but he would have none of that and he quickly changed tactics, flicked his left wrist to make his Phoenix wand shoot back into its holster and then used his freed hand to blast out a surge of his raw dark magic in waves of black flames.

The leaves and branches of the animated trees instantly caught on fire, some teetering to the ground, others blazing in flames and still rushing towards him, which he summarily blasted to smithereens with his Death and Life wand.

At last, there was only one tree remaining, but this one suddenly halted a few feet away from him, something strange happening to it as it grew much larger and its roots, branches and trunk started to ripple, beginning to transform.

Orion's breath caught in his throat with grudging admiration of Arian's inherited and clearly fully mastered Transanimation ability. Now, where once the animated tree had stood, a full grown dragon had developed from it, letting out a roar of fire as it batted its gigantic scaled wings and flew up into the air, then diving downwards.

But it wasn't going for him, Orion realized immediately, but for those who were behind him – for the Elite, Death Eaters, and inevitably for the light wizards as well, given that they were all packed close together.

He knew it was a diversionary tactic, but there was little else he could do but get rid of it. Alarmed cries and screams were already resounding along with the frantic scramblings of everyone who was trying to get out of the way from the dragon's path of belched spurts of fire and clawed wings.

Without having the time to see where Arian was directing this new puppet of his from, he didn't waste a second and instantly pocketed his Death and Life wand and transformed into his Wyvern animagus form.

Feeling a rush of exhilaration, Firebreath took to the skies and soon circled around the dragon's head, effectively catching the beast's attention, which snapped its jaws at him and flicked its horned tail towards him. He deftly dodged the attacks and flew ahead of the creature to face it, meeting its gaze and quickly lowering his inner lids from his basilisk-like eyes.

In an instant, the dragon froze and the change rippled through its flesh. Starting from the head and ending at its tail, its scales hardened and turned gray, and from the outside in, it turned to stone. Finally, Firebreath swiped at the snout of statue-like creature with a clawed paw and it crumbled and burst into large, fractured blocks of stone.

The moment he touched ground again, Orion transformed back into himself with no small amount of satisfaction. He saw that his Elite and most of the Death Eaters had protected themselves, since they had all heard of, or knew first-hand, about what his wyvern form could do. Hence only some light wizards had been caught by the rain of stones, some having been knocked out and lying unconscious.

"Round them up again!" he barked urgently to his Elite as he touched his throat to convey the message.

And it was then, as he observed the Death Eaters and Elite fighting once more to force the light wizards into a group, discerning that two wizards from his forces had fallen at some point and seemed to be badly injured, when he finally found him.

Arian had just apparated by Alastor Moody's side, who was fiercely fighting back against Elite and Death Eaters alike and causing much trouble. With understanding suddenly dawning on him as he saw Arian saying something to which Moody seemed to angrily retort, he rushed forwards with a curse on his lips.

Abruptly, Arian glanced at him and something rocked under his feet when the light wizard waved a hand in his direction. Orion had a second to catch his balance when vines erupted from the ground and immediately wrapped around his legs, rooting him in place as they kept growing and enlarging like hands grasping at him.

With a roar of anger he blasted them away, but while some scorched and withered to dust many others kept shooting upwards and entwining around him. The second he thought he had easily disposed of all the thorny and grasping vines, it was too late. One last one had sprouted upwards with a white bud which instantly blossomed in front of his face.

Orion reeled backwards and quickly clamped his mouth shut when a puff of pollen came from the flower. But even though he sneezed and the spell he had cast on his nose protected him from it, he soon realized his mistake when he felt some of it getting into his eyes, which started burning and leaking tears.

The flower withered and fell, having done its task, though the vine remained and gently wrapped around him as he swayed on his feet, feeling light-headed and dizzy while his vision became foggy. And as he was being cradled by the vine, which stopped him from stumbling to the ground, he blurrily saw Arian placing a hand on Moody's shoulder and the ex-Auror disappeared with a last angered yell of protest.

Orion blamed himself for not having realized it before. Of course that from all the Order members Arian would have considered Moody to be of some worth and made the decision to steal one of Albus' followers for his own group.

According to what Sirius had told him a while ago, Moody was one of the few who had the backbone to openly doubt or criticize Albus' decisions and plans during the Order meetings of the past, if the man felt that Dumbledore was making a mistake. And Moody often pushed for harder and more ruthless measures with which to oppose the Dark.

And now, there was no doubt that Arian had marked Moody as an Illuminati at some point and had just forced the man into an disapparition to save him.

Suddenly, while his mind swarmed slowly, he felt someone apparating behind him and soon an arm wrapped around his chest and another around his waist as a mouth breathed into his ear, "Don't be angry at me, my nemesis. You put up a good show. It was fun, hmm?"

Orion remained silent as he choked on his rage. And he was even more angered when Arian's hands brushed along his chest while the wizard kept embracing him from behind – it wasn't the hold of an enemy, it was that of a lover, and it made Orion inwardly spit with furious indignation since it felt like a mockery to him. Arian simply had no right to do something like that.

"You want me to go to the English Ministry, n'est ce pas?" murmured Arian, brushing his lips on the shell of Orion's ear, making him angrily cringe away to which the light wizard chuckled with seemingly benevolent amusement. "I'll play along, then. I'll grasp the opportunity to do something there. And I'll wait for you." He paused and then added with a tone which sounded playful and petulant to Orion, "I'll be bored until you arrive. You won't take long, will you, hmm?"

The wizard then remained silent, obviously waiting for an answer of some sort. And Orion gave it to him, but certainly not how the light wizard was expecting. He simply gathered all the concentration he could muster and allowed his dark magic to flow outwards will all the rage he felt.

He did it just how Gellert had helped him to master, without forcing his raw magic into taking the form of any element but allowing it to do what he willed to happen. He wanted to smother Arian until the light wizard blacked out and loss consciousness, and his dark magic shot forth in a thundering whirlwind of blackness which soon turned into large, ghost-like hands. The black skeletal fingers instantly rushed over Orion's shoulder.

A startled and strangled wheeze came from behind him, and Arian's arms around him tensed rigidly before they fell away, as the light wizard chocked out, "Don't - you fool!"

Finally free from the vine and the wizard's arms, Orion swirled around to face him, as steadily as he could, and caught sight of Arian's pale face and gaping mouth as the wizard's fingers scratched his throat as if trying to claw at the ghostly gnarled fingers that were strangling him – attempting and failing to dispel Orion's dark magic.

In the next bat of the eyelash, Arian was gone, but Orion didn't even attempt to prevent it. For once, he didn't feel at all upset but rather excited. He had the evidence now that Arian was vulnerable to his raw dark magic.

He had feared that the wizard wouldn't be, already being the Vindico Lumen and all. But it was clear that even though he wasn't the VA yet, he could match Arian at least when he directly used his raw dark magic in its wild form. It was good to know and it certainly immensely satisfied him.

The effects of the pollen seemed to vanish seconds after Arian's departure, and Orion staggered for a moment at the abrupt change, as he felt his mind becoming clear and sharp again.

And he didn't waste another second. He momentarily lowered his Occlumency shields, and said urgently in his mind, "Arian's going to the English Ministry. Alert me when you see him."

A hiss he supposed he had to consider as acquiescence reverberated in his mind before Voldemort's voice demanded sharply, "How much longer will it take you to finish there?"

Orion turned around and gazed at the fight before him. It was no longer a battle but a skirmish. Without Moody amongst them, the light wizards didn't stand a chance and since many had fallen already they were vastly outnumbered at present.

Indeed, the only ones who still stood fighting were Charlie and Bill Weasley, along with Sirius who continued playing his part, and Cedric. An exhausted-looking and apparently badly injured Krum was in that moment being magically bound by the synchronized joint effort of Evander and Kara. And just as he was observing the group, a beam of light from Titania's wand struck Cedric and seemingly rendered him unconscious, the curse clearly having been cast with the ease of an experienced dueler.

Orion smiled proudly at that. Titania was decidedly the best fighter among his Elite, having graduated from Durmstrang a while ago with top marks in her PRIMEs and in her second year of her Mastership in the Dark Arts under Romulus Rosier's tutelage.

"We're almost done here," he said in his mind as he slowly started approaching them. "How long the rest takes me depends on Remus and Lezander. How is it going on your end?"

"That question doesn't merit an answer, my little serpent," hissed Voldemort's voice caustically before it was laced with smug self-satisfaction. "But if you must know, several floors are already under my control. My Death Eaters are dealing with the Auror Department and I'll soon be taking care of Scrimgeour."

"See you in a few, then," said Orion. He paused and then added warningly, "And be on guard about Arian! Don't underestimate him, you hear?"

An irritated hiss reverberated in his mind along with a sharp twinge of pain blossoming on his scar, and with that, Voldemort closed off their connection.

Orion rubbed his forehead with annoyance as he slammed up his Occlumency shields. He made his way towards the fight but stopped along the way when he finally saw who among his force had fallen, and his mood soured.

The Death Eater Max Montague was a few feet away from the main skirmish, lying on the ground as pale as a ghost, with eyes closed and unmoving. Andrew Pucey and Marcus Flint, the boy's friends from Slytherin House, weren't with him. Not that it surprised him, Voldemort had instilled in his Death Eaters the rule about not taking care of fallen comrades if a fight was still going on – the Dark Lord punished anyone who did.

Laiana from the Elite was the only with him, crouching by his side as she forced a healing potion down the throat of the unconscious older boy. Orion was grateful that she had taken such initiative. The quiet girl was very talented in the Healing Arts, and even though Montague wasn't his responsibility, he rather not have any loses.

"What happened?" he asked as he stood by their side.

"Moody struck him with some curse, I saw it," said Laiana quietly as she frowned and passed her wand over the Slytherin's body.

Orion frowned as he eyed the boy. "Will he make it?"

"I think…" she trailed off as Montague glowed red in the second passing of her wand. She pressed her lips into a thin line. "That means no. He has died, my Lord."

Orion's jaw clenched as she rose to her feet, dusting off her robes. Laiana shot him a glance. "I can take his body back."

"Do it, then come back again," he said curtly.

She cast a levitation charm on Montague's body and then glanced over her shoulder as she murmured quietly, her voice tense, "You should see how he's doing, my Lord."

Orion followed the direction of her gaze and quickly left her without saying another word when he saw who the second injured wizard was.

Alexios was cradling Wenceslas' head on his lap as he tipped a healing potion vial to the boy's lip. Wenceslas, who had always been very proud and vain about his good-looks, had a gaping wound running from his forehead to his chin, crossing over his left eye which was closed shut, swelled and looking ghastly.

"Who did that?" he demanded sharply as Alexios glanced up at him.

"Bill Weasley," replied the delicate-looking boy in his soft, cultured voice. It was clear that Alexios, ever the brainy and intellectual one of the Elite, usually regarding everything with an analytical and coldly detached mind behind his deceptively soft-looking appearance, was deeply concerned about his closest friend.

Orion grimaced as he glanced at Wenceslas' face. "Will he lose the eye?"

Wenceslas visibly tensed and then said wryly, though his expression was stiff with dread, "It will make me look more interesting, won't it?"

Alexios paled and gazed up at Orion as he muttured quietly, "I don't know, my Lord. May I…?"

The boy trailed off uncertainly, but the plea was clear on his face and Orion nodded at him. "Take him back to Malfoy Manor and have the healer there work on him." He glanced at the fray but a few feet away from them, and then gazed back at the boy. "You can stay with him if you want. There isn't much else for you to do here."

Looking grateful and relieved, Alexios let out an exhalation of breath before he started to gently help up Wenceslas to his feet. The three of them were startled when a cry rose above all others.

"Aunt Muriel!" someone shouted with alarm.

Orion glanced around to see an old witch coming towards him, with a raised wand while she precariously rushed forward by supporting herself with a cane. She looked like a possessed harridan, her wrinkled face etched with hatred and desperation, and he didn't think about it twice.

He calmly aimed at her and spat, "Avada Kedavra!"

With a flash of green, she dropped to the ground while cries rose from the Weasley bunch, which caused of surge of satisfaction to swell up in him. So he had just disposed of a relative – better and better. Sparing Weasley relatives was not part of the deal he had with his father.

"That was an eye for an eye," he stated loudly and angrily, as he shot Bill Weasley a hard glance and gestured at the wounded Wenceslas.

And it truly was, in his opinion. To end the life of an old light witch foolish enough to attempt to have a go at him was a just retribution for the possible loss of an eye of one of his Elite. Of course, he would have much rather preferred to take vengeance on Bill, who had caused Wenceslas' injury in the first place, but killing the Weasley was not something his father would forgive in this occasion.

As for poor Montague, alas, Moody was gone and Romulus and Calypso had a greater claim on the life of the ex-Auror than he did.

And to his satisfaction, it seemed that his nonchalant display of his willingness to kill put somewhat of a damper in the counterattacks of the remaining light wizards fighting.

The moment Alexios disapparated away with Wenceslas, Orion thought that it was time to put closure to their attack, since almost all the light wizards were incapacitated already, which was the whole purpose.

He approached them and finally put to use the nonverbal spell he had been tweaking a while back to make it able to affect several people at the same time and thus making Snape's spell more useful for battle.

Orion swished his wand in the air in a knot-like pattern encompassing those before him, and then bellowed in his mind, 'Levicorpus!'

They flew up in the air, dangling from their ankles and issuing alarmed or startled cries. Orion soon cast the same spell repeatedly, aiming at those remaining: at Xenophilius, Hermione and Ron, and the Delacours with their little daughter who had kept themselves away from the fight all along, as well as at the knocked out wizard who had attempted to fly away on a broom, those who had tried to run away, and all others who were lying unconscious here and there.

Once every light wizard and witch was hovering in mid air, injured, unconscious or still with a spark of fight in them, he waved his Phoenix wand towards them, instantly accioing towards him all their wands. With several more flicks, he made the wands drop far away on the ground and warded the pile against summoning charms from their owners.

"Be ready, Tita!" he barked without looking at her, maintaining all of them floating in the air with his Death and Life wand before he made them drop in a heap of entangled limbs.

Titania acted then, casting the spell they had previously agreed on. In a burst of silver light, a magical cage trapped them all together inside. Those conscious groaned, grunted and moaned, as they scrambled to their feet, with only enough room to barely stand.

It was then that Orion saw a most curious and enlightening interaction. Krum, who was still bounded by the spell Evander and Kara had shot at him, was staring at Xenophilius' chest, his lips thinning with anger. The Bulgarian Seeker was eyeing the pendant Luna's father was wearing –evidently thinking that it was simply Grindelwald's mark- and Orion finally understood why Luna hadn't been at all surprised when he had revealed to his Elite how the Tale of the Three Brothers was really about the Peverells and the Hallows.

Though it was clear that Xenophilius didn't know what else was behind that tale, or the symbol, since Luna had seemed interested as much as startled when Orion had disclosed that 'Death' had really been Morgana's spirit and that the Hallows were not just unique magical artifacts but the tools for the Dark's prophet, for the VA.

Suddenly, he was pulled out of his musings when his father raced forwards and fiercely grasped the glowing grey bars.

"You're no son of mine!" spat Sirius, his face contorting with disgust, hatred and anguish.

Orion could have clapped at his performance, even though the man wasn't exactly following the script they had devised. He inwardly rolled his eyes - his father did have a flare for the dramatic. Well, so did he if it came to that.

"And you're a traitor to your own kind and family!" he snarled at Sirius, aiming his wand at him. "Next time you dare take the Light's side against me in a fight, I'll kill you."

And without a pause, he slashed his wand at the wizard and irately yelled a curse. A gaping wound tore open along his father's chest as he went flying back into the cluster of caged light wizards, and Orion hoped that would be enough to imprint forever in their minds the supposed irrevocable 'enmity' between him and his dad.

"Your own father!" cried Mrs. Weasley, crouching by Sirius' side and pulling the poor man to her bosom as she frantically and messily tried to help him.

"Don't fuss, Molly," croaked out Sirius, attempting to feebly bat her away with a hand.

Orion merely observed with concealed amusement how it all proceeded according to plan – after all, Sirius had a healing potion in his pocket which he would soon be imbibing the moment no one glanced his way.

Arthur Weasley, with a pale and grim expression on his face, aided his wife in halting the blood flow that surged from Sirius' chest, both of them pressing their hands on the wound as Bill tore a piece of fabric from his robes and began to tie it around Sirius' torso with a tight knot. It seemed he had also been the one to do the same for George at some point during the fight.

In a few moments, after more insistence from Sirius' part, the three Weasleys left him alone to go back to George, who was being already looked after by his other siblings. Molly wasted no time in cradling her injured son, sobbing as she tenderly fingered the dressed wound at the side of the twin's head.

The second he saw his father roll to a side as if to relieve his body from the pain he felt, all the while taking a swift and covert sip from a small potion flask, Orion went for the last finishing touch.

He extended a hand before him and tapped it with his wand as he murmured an incantation. The Death Eaters and his Elite took several steps back while a powdery ball materialized on his palm, and he brought his lips close to it and blew over it. Puffs of purple fog breezed into the cage and swirled around the imprisoned wizards, who didn't have a moment to react since in the following second they all dropped heavily asleep.

Bellatrix was eyeing the slumbering light wizards and witches with a hungry expression on her face, her fingers jerkily caressing her wand, and Orion knew she was simply twitching to kill them all. He was actually amazed that she had restrained herself up to that point and followed the plan without attempting to 'accidentally' dispose of anyone.

"Save it for the last battle, Aunt," he said to her curtly. "We need some light wizards to rule over in the mean time, don't we? Now go to your Lord. We're done here."

Bellatrix shot him a sneer, but wasted no time in disapparating, instantly followed by all the other Death Eaters, no matter is some of them did have some injuries which should be tended to, in his opinion.

Without having to say a word to them, his Elite gathered around him and he quickly touched his throat to communicate with Lezander and Remus. He had a couple of things to do before he could go to the English Ministry of Magic.

He could only hope that Arian would take some while before popping there. Though he had to wonder why the light wizard hadn't already. He had no doubt that Voldemort would have alerted him if the wizard had made an appearance.

It only left the most logical conclusion – Arian was up to some improvised plan of action for which he needed some preparation.


Just a couple of minutes had passed since they had apparated away from the Burrow and into wizarding Dublin. At the entrance of the Irish Ministry of Magic, Amadine had been waiting for them to escort them inside.

Orion had almost gawked at her. He had known that most werewolves would be taking the potion Snape had created in order to transform during a non-full-moon day, but he hadn't expected how they would look – how she, most particularly, looked.

Amadine wasn't a beautiful woman, she was plain-looking and had several scars on her face which he knew had to be from all the fights she must have gone through in order to attain the position as the Alpha of her packs in France. And being female, the competition must have been twice as hard than if she had been a male.

Yet, as a werewolf transformed by the potion, she was breath-taking. Standing and prowling forward on her rear legs, the paws of her front legs being like furred clawed hands on arms, and with a large head of a wolf, she was gorgeous. Her fur was white and soft looking, and the many scarred and furless lines that ran along her snout and body didn't make her any less beautiful.

Orion was at the head of his Elite, matching Amadine's long, prowling strides as the female werewolf guided them through many halls in order to reach the Ministry's highest level. As they took the lifts, passed through corridors and turned around corners, Orion caught sight of what remained of Ireland's Ministry officials.

Some floors were littered with ravaged bodies, with marks of claws and fangs having ripped throats and torn flesh. Those who had survived the werewolf attack on their Ministry by surrendering, were pressed against the walls with transformed werewolves snapping their jaws at them to keep them cowering and in place.

Orion barely paid attention to them, but he did pause briefly when they reached the highest level and saw a bunch of werewolves snarling at a large group of small ugly green creatures they had boxed in a corner.

Suddenly, a golden glowing globe materialized before him, it hovered in mid air, sparkling and glittering and Orion's gaze was immediately riveted on it. He stared at it mesmerized, inexorably pulled towards it as it started floating to a side, and he took a step to follow the marvelous thing.

He wanted to reach it, he needed to touch it. It was of the utmost importance, it was vital that he followed it-

Abruptly, he was brusquely yanked back by a clawed, furred hand, and Orion blinked at Amadine, feeling as if he had suddenly been broken out from a trance.

Harsh jeering, mocking and high-pitched guffaws reached his ears and he glanced at the small ugly creatures entrapped by the werewolves.

"They are…" trailed off Orion, glancing at Amadine with befuddlement as he shook his head to clear it further from the enchantment the globe had seemed to spin around him.

"Leprechauns, yes," said the female Alpha, her voice coming out guttural and growling from her jaws. "They caught us by surprise. It seems the Ministry had an agreement with the leprechaun population of Ireland, in case their country was attacked by foreign forces." She peeled her lips back from her fangs, looking like a grinning wolf, if that was possible. "Didn't do them much good. Leprechauns could have easily ensnared a bunch of wizards but their tricks have no effect on our kind."

Orion opened his mouth but then shut it close in the next moment when Amadine pushed him forward, his Elite silently following as voices came out from an office a few feet away from them.

"Patrick Connolly, ain't it? A fellow Irishman attacking his own Ministry – it should shame ye, lad."

A short-tempered growl accompanied a heated reply, "I stopped bein' Irish the moment I was turned into a werewolf."

"If yer father and mother could see ye now, Patrick... The disgrace ye're bringing upon 'em-"

"Don't dare speak to me 'bout my former family, wizard – they're nothin' to me, and my parents have always supported the Dark – no matter how many donations they've made to keep up appearances-"

"The Connollys have always supported my tenure as Minister, lad! Don't taint their good reputation and name-"

"Let's cut through the bullshit, O'Rourke," said a harsh, growling voice which Orion immediately recognized as Greyback's. "We've taken over your Ministry. If you want us to spare those who have survived, then yield, wizard."

"Yield? Never! Under whose orders have you done this-"

"The Dark Lord's and-"

"Then I will only deal with him, not with underlings and savage beasts-"

Enraged growls and snarls erupted like wildfire, and Orion instantly yanked the door open and calmly strode into the crowded office, Amadine and his Elite at his heels.

"You must have a death wish, insulting those who have you in their mercy," he said coolly as he gauged the situation.

It looked as if a small battle had taken place in the Minister's office. Several wizards in Aurors robes were lying on the floor, with throats torn or chests ripped open, unequivocally dead. Circling the Minister's desk were several transformed werewolves. He recognized Wulfric by his black fur and enormous size - the Russian Alpha, transformed, was even taller and larger than Greyback, and that was saying something.

Wulfric, like three other werewolves who had to be the Alphas of continental Europe who always kowtowed to the man, were standing on their hind legs and gripping their wands, aimed at the Irish Minister, in their clawed and furred hands.

Unlike them, Connolly and Greyback, also transformed, were on four legs without using wands but with their jaws snapping and their snouts snarling at the Minister who stood behind his desk.

Greyback was unmistakable given his size and silver hued grey fur. And next to him stood Remus, who evidently had been the only one who hadn't taken the potion to transform into his werewolf form.

All of them were now gazing at him as he took the steps to stand before the desk, locking his gaze with the Minister's. The wizard, whom he knew to be Regan O'Rourke, a light halfblood who had made his way up in the ministerial ranks by sheer talent, shrewdness and brains, looked stern and regal, with the confident airs of one who had held political power for very long and who was beloved and trusted by his people.

Even if the man was surrounded by the fallen bodies of his Aurors and by menacing enemies, even if there was a wand on the desk that had been broken into two, which was undoubtedly his, and even if the man looked very old, withered and exhausted, O'Rourke still made an impressive picture.

"Orion Black," said the wizard in his heavily accented voice, his expression hardening. "Aye, lad, I recognize yer face from newspapers. I should've known ye're behind this atrocity."

"I am, as is the Dark Lord, as Greyback informed you," said Orion impassively, holding the man's hazel gaze. "You wanted to deal with the leader of this coup, so you will deal with me."

"For the terms of my surrender?" demanded O'Rourke, his eyes narrowing to slits, closely scrutinizing him.

"So to speak," said Orion coolly, as he plucked out a scroll from his pocket and offered it to the Irish Minister.

O'Rourke suspiciously eyed the scroll before he took it from Orion's hand, unrolling it. The wizard's wrinkled face paled dramatically as he read the document, and soon the old man plopped down on his armchair, taking a deep intake of breath.

Orion knew very well what the wizard was seeing in the scrolled parchment – it was a magical contract, devised by Voldemort and him, already bearing their signatures and awaiting for the Minister's. It entailed all the terms and conditions a Minister had to follow once signed, or else lose his life or magic depending on the terms breached.

In short, it was a document that would chain the Irish Ministry to England's, once the latter was taken over by the Dark, so that the Irish Ministry followed the line, edicts and laws of an England ruled by the Dark, with him and Voldemort being the direct overlords behind the scenes.

"And if I don't sign this?" croaked out the Minister, looking as if he had suddenly aged a century more.

"You'll be killed, we'll choose someone else from your Ministry to become the new Minister, put him under the Imperius Curse and have him act as a mere puppet," said Orion pleasantly, widely smiling at the man. "And of course, we'll kill all of those who remain loyal to you in this Ministry. On the other hand, if you agree to the terms and sign the contract, there will be no more deaths and we will have no need to imperio you, thus you'll be able to exert and retain some measure of control and decision-making power regarding the affairs of your country."

"But not true political independence, lad," spat O'Rourke, piercing him with a sharp gaze. "I'll be a mere figurehead, with ye and Ye-Know-Who pulling my strings and controlling my Ministry."

"As I said," retorted Orion curtly, "you'll have some leeway as long as you follow the terms."

Briefly, resignation and despair crossed over the wizard's aged features. In the next second, the Minister's prominent, square jaw clenched and the man briskly grabbed one of the quills lying on his desk.

"For my country and people, I do this, lad," said O'Rourke harshly, with a hard expression on his face as he quickly signed the magical contract, as if he didn't want to look at it or even remain in its presence a second longer.

The very instant the signature was written, the contract flashed brightly and the parchment rolled itself back into a scroll. Orion wasted no time in pocketing it, and he widely smiled at the wizard with supreme satisfaction.

"You've made the correct decision, Minister."

O'Rourke shot him a glance of pure loathing, and then quietly and fixedly stared at the top of his desk, his shoulders slumping with defeat and looking as if he had just signed a pact with the devil.

Orion didn't bother saying anything else and he gestured at everyone to follow him as he strode out of the Minister's office.

"It's done," breathed out Remus by his side, looking tired and also mightily glad that his part in the affair was over.

Orion glanced at him and the other Alphas as they made their way along the corridor. "Almost. You'll need to dispose of the bodies and clean up the place. And you have to make every Ministry official that remains take an Oath of Secrecy. No one must find out what happened here."

Remus nodded at him, and soon, he, Wulfric, and the other Alphas took leave of him to command their packs and follow his orders.

With a wide smirk on his face, Orion glanced at his Elite as he extended out his arms for them to grab. "One last stop, my friends. Come, Lez is waiting for us."

Chuckling, or smirking just as joyfully as him, the Elite took hold of his arms and he instantly plunged them into a side-along apparition into Zraven Citadel.


"Point me Lezander," murmured Orion to his Death and Life wand which he had on his open palm.

Previously, they had landed in Zraven Citadel's Throne Hall, where Calypso and Draco had been standing next to Lezander's parents and where many other vampires had congregated, awaiting news and to receive their fighters when they got back.

Nevertheless, Orion had merely nodded at Mireilla and Râzvan, without pausing to explain much, in order to take his Elite through the vanishing cabinet that stood in the middle of the Throne Hall as quickly as possible.

They had appeared at the other end, stepping out from the other cabinet in a deserted corridor of the Ministry of Magic of Scotland.

At present, with the three-dimensional map of the Scottish Ministry propped in his other hand, Orion observed how his wand spun on his palm and then he followed the direction it pointed towards while he now and then glanced at the map.

Cheers received him and his Elite as they made their way along the corridors. The vampires of the Zraven Force waved at him or saluted with expressions of triumph on their faces. Indeed, like in Dublin, there in Edinburgh, it looked as if it had been a complete victory, catching everyone in Scotland's Ministry of Magic by surprise.

There had been casualties, of course. Bodies beheaded by sword or sucked dry by vampires were scattered here and there, but there weren't as many dead as in O'Rourke's Ministry.

Even his Elite -with the exception of Alexios and Wenceslas who hadn't returned from Malfoy Manor, making Orion hope that the healer there could save Wencelas' eye on time- were animatedly talking with each other as they went further into the depths of the Ministry, seeing the evidence of a won battle.

At last, he folded the map and pocketed it when they reached the office labeled as the Minister's on the map.

With the Elite flanking him with wands in hand, Orion stepped inside the room. What welcomed him there rather surprised him. The only vampires in the office were Lezander and Cyprian, with their wands and swords drawn, and with their Zraven uniform of crimson dragon scales stained with dried blood and their faces looking feral.

Both of them were heavily breathing, their pupils blown, Lezander's irises a sliver of pale blue circling dilated black pupils as his nostrils kept flaring. Cyprian looked much the same, both of their lips with incisors peeking out were stained with blood.

Orion realized by their expressions that they had to be experiencing bloodlust. It didn't surprise him, since the smell of shed blood was even tickling his very own nose, making him unwittingly lick his lips.

And he had to pause to gaze at Lezander with unbridled admiration, since he had never seen him in such an unrepressed wild state. He had to admit to be feeling a sudden surge of lust for the way the young vampire Rege was looking.

Both vampires glanced at him as he made his way inside the office and he had to be blind not to notice the hunger and desire in Lezander's eyes as the vampire's gaze roved over him.

He shot him a knowing smirk and then focused on the two wizards in the office. There were no dead bodies lying around, but there had been a pile outside in the corridor, undoubtedly those who had defended the Minister's office from attack.

His attention was first drawn to a thin wizard with sunken cheeks and crooked nose cowering at one corner, the man's expression was wild and terrified as his gaze frenziedly swiveled from vampire to vampire, and then to him.

"O- Orion Bla-Black!" choked out the wizard, his wand dropping from his trembling hand as he pressed himself further into the corner, as if he wished he would be swallowed by it.

Orion shot him a sharp smile. "The one and only."

"Angus!" roared the wizard standing behind the desk, glancing at his compatriot with utterly disgusted disappointment and contempt.

Orion understood why, since the so-called Angus' wand clattered to the floor, instantly being grasped by Cyprian in a flash of movement, while the wizard who had shouted the name had obviously been rid from his wand at some point. Due to Angus' fear, the light wizards had just lost any means of protection they had.

Finally, Orion's gaze zeroed in on the man behind the desk, who had to be the Scottish Minister, and he cocked his head to a side, regarding him closely.

The wizard looked as he imagined a Scotsman ought to be – stout, fierce, tough-looking, with the appearance of a warrior, with very short, cropped grey hair, and a stance of utter self-confidence, strength and commanding presence.

"You must surmise what is going on," said Orion with a wide smile, as took out the signed scroll and snapped his wrist to have it unroll before the man's eyes, displaying O'Rourke's signature on it. "Ireland is ours already. Now, it's your turn."

The Minister said nothing and merely gazed at him with a stony expression on his face.

Unfazed, Orion shot him a toothy grin as he tucked the scroll back into his pocket. "The United Kingdom is falling into the Dark's hands, Minister. Of course, we want it to proceed as peacefully as possible-"

"And England?" demanded the Minister sternly, skewering him with a scrutinizing, searching gaze.

With his grin stretching from ear to ear, Orion replied pleasantly, "Lord Voldemort and his followers are taking over the English Ministry of Magic as we speak."

He had to give it to the man, the wizard didn't even flinch at the Dark Lord's name, though Angus did. The cowering wizard squeaked like a squashed mouse and trembled as he closed his eyes.

Orion didn't pay him any attention, and remained solely focused on the Minister. "Of course, we're treading carefully and wisely. No one will know what has happened in the Ministries-"

"People will know," interrupted the Minister sharply. "People will find out and light wizards will not stand for it-"

"Oh, yes, yes," interjected Orion with a dismissive wave of a hand. "We're counting on it, to have some… 'rebels' popping up. I've taken measures to ensure it will happen." He shot the man a wide smirk. "It's all part of our plan, you see. The vast majority will not know the truth, they will merely speculate in fearful whispers without daring to do anything. The media, of course, will print and broadcast what we want them to say. So all in all, this will be a silent coup, seen as a mere transition by those outside the Ministries."

"I'm not afraid of you," stated the Minister in a gruff, deep voice, staring at him calmly as he pulled himself up to his full height, his prideful chin jutting out and lifting. "I am Donnan Galloway of the Clan Douglas and the House of Stuart. I come from a line of warriors and a line of kings. I've been the Minister of this country before you were even a tingle in your father's balls, boy. My forefathers have been the sworn protectors of this land since the day we won our freedom in 1314 at the Battle of Bannockburn under Robert the Bruce's leadership. My Clan has seen dark wizards like you come and go, and every time, my ancestors have driven the likes of you away."

"Am I supposed to be cowed?" said Orion coolly, as he twirled his wand between his fingers. "Or perhaps awed?"

Galloway narrowed his eyes and said once again in a steely tone of voice, "I'm not afraid of you."

"Then you're a fool," retorted Orion sharply, his eyes narrowing impatiently. "However impressive your lineage is, and however powerful you undoubtedly are, the fact remains that you're here, wandless and without anyone to help you. You're a light Minister whose Ministry has been taken. This is a fight the Douglases and Stuarts have lost, isn't it?"

He pierced him with his emerald gaze and added shortly, "You have two choices: yield to be under the Dark's rule or death. What will it be, Galloway?"

The wizard pulled himself up to his impressive full height, locked his gaze with Orion's and squared his shoulders, as he said solemnly, "I rather die – with my honor and conscience intact."

"As you wish," said Orion with a nonchalant shrug of his shoulders, and at once aimed his wand at the man. "Avada Kedavra!"

With a blast of green light, Galloway hit the back of his chair, his lifeless body crumbling on the seat as Orion watched impassively.

Suddenly, he caught a whiff of a stench and his nose scrunched with disgust as he saw a wet stain spreading on Angus' robes. The wizard had lost control of his bladder, not that the man seemed to notice, he looked to be hyperventilating and about to faint as he gazed at Galloway's lifeless body. But there wasn't grief or sorrow in the man's expression, but clear fear for his own life.

Orion swallowed his contempt and demanded curtly, "And you are?"

"Th- the.. the…" stammered the wizard, looking terrified and out of his wits. The man loudly gulped and attempted to speak a second time. "I am the- the-"

Orion arched an eyebrow at Lezander, who replied huskily, "He's Angus MacDuff, the Senior Undersecretary to the Minister."

"Ah, perfect," said Orion placidly as he sharply smiled at the wizard. "You won't be as foolish as your former boss, will you?"

The man frantically shook his head, heavily breathing with panicked gasps for air as his terrified gaze flickered from Orion to Lezander and back.

"Excellent," said Orion softly as he took out from his pocket a second scroll, unrolled it and laid it on the desk. "Then congratulations are in order. You have just been promoted to Minister of Magic of Scotland." He gestured at the magical contract and pierced him with a threatening gaze. "That is, if you sign this. You will, won't you?"

"Y-yes," stuttered the wizard as he repeatedly cleared his throat, without even looking at the magical document.

"Good man," said Orion pleasantly while he went around the desk.

He gazed at Galloway's body and shook his head. It was a pity. But the man had been a fool - Galloway would have best served his country by living and continue being a Minister under the Dark's thumb. A wizard like that wouldn't have been a cringing puppet. He would have done the best for his kind and country with what he was allowed to do. Foolish man – honor, conscience and pride, indeed.

Orion propped a foot on the dead body of the former Minister and shoved it with a hard push of his boot.

The corpse made a dull thudding noise as it landed on the floor, and he was soon steering MacDuff to take a seat on the vacated chair. The man was wildly trembling now, but Orion paid it no mind as he placed a quill in MacDuff's hand, pushed the man's fingers to close around it and brought the wizard's tremulous hand to the document.

MacDuff paled even further and his eyes widened as he scanned the words on the magical contract, and then looking up at Orion with horror and petrified dismay. It only took Orion an arching of an eyebrow and the wizard gulped and then jerkily signed the parchment with a shaky hand, as beads of sweat trickled down his forehead.

The signature flashed red for a second, before the parchment flew up into the air and rolled itself with a blaze of bright silver light.

Orion caught the scroll in mid air and instantly pocketed it. He flashed a wide grin at MacDuff and patted the wizard's shoulder. "It's been a pleasure, Minister."

The man mumbled something or other and slumped on his armchair, repeatedly dabbing a handkerchief on his sweaty thin face, letting out a tremulous exhalation of relief, like a starved pig who had been miraculously saved from the slaughter house and couldn't quite believe his good luck.

"Pathetic," hissed Orion under his breath the moment they left the office. "I rather have Albus Dumbledore himself on the Scottish Minister's seat than that spineless little worm who didn't think twice about betraying his fellow countryman to save his own hide. He will have to be killed and replaced at some point."

"I don't like him either," murmured Lezander, reaching out to trail his fingertips along Orion's neck, his breathing still coming out heavy and husky, "but MacDuff is exactly the kind of puppet figurehead that Voldemort wants in a Ministry, dragostea mea. We all know that."

Orion shot Lezander a glance and said crisply, "I have as much say as he does about who we place in positions of power. And I want that man to be disposed of." His expression hardened and he bit out, "He's a Peter Pettigrew."

He knew that MacDuff wouldn't be able to breach the terms of the contract he had signed, but vermin like that always found a way of changing sides as many times as it took to save his own position or life. When it came to people like MacDuff, the saying 'once a traitor, always a traitor' rang true.

The man was clearly a self-interested bureaucrat bent on increasing and protecting his power, and if it entailed the detriment of the public at large, the wizard obviously couldn't care less.

He peeled his gaze away from Lezander, since the vampire's touches and bloodlust state was beginning to affect him as well, and at the moment, quenching his desire wasn't something he could indulge in unless he took Lezander right then and there in sight of everyone, and he didn't have the time for it nor would the vampire agree to that, alas. Pulling out from all the images he was picturing of what he would be doing to Lezander that night, he eyed his Elite with a considering gaze, determining who would be best for the task.

At last, he shot Kasimir a pointed glance and ordered swiftly, "Look into it, Kas. Ask around. See who remains in this Ministry that is of some worth and would be amenable to replace MacDuff."

"I will, my Lord," said Kasimir instantly, giving him a low bow before he sprang ahead and took a corridor.

Orion glanced back at Lezander, who was as always flanked by a silent, efficient and ever-alert Cyprian. "You know what your vampires have to do now, don't you?"

"Yes, dragostea mea," said Lezander, softly smiling at him as his fingers lingered in a suggestive caress on the crook of Orion's neck.

"Stop it. There'll be time for that later," said Orion with a chuckle, batting the vampire's hand away. He regained a serious expression, and added curtly, "When you're done go to Malfoy Manor. We're all meeting back there." He couldn't help it and widely smiled at him. "To celebrate if all goes well." Then he smugly patted his pocket containing the two signed scrolls. "Only Scrimgeour is left now - finally!"

Lezander opened his mouth, but then paused, a concerned frown spreading on his handsome face. "What about Arian? You said he-"

"I don't know yet," interrupted Orion shortly, "but there's nothing you can do about it. Finish here and meet me at Malfoy Manor. Bring all the vampires you want." He grinned at him. "Remus and the Alphas are going to do the same. What a celebration of our smashing victory it will be!"

And with that, he quickly pulled his Elite to a side, leaving Lezander and Cyprian free to go back to their fighters and deal with the remaining Ministry officials.

With a wide, excited smile on his face, and issuing a barked command, the Elite regrouped around him as he held the Black Heir ring portkey in his hand, which would immediately take them all to Voldemort's side.

The last news he had received from Voldemort through their mind-connection was that all the wards around Scrimgeour's office had been pulled down, and that Arian still hadn't been seen.

And he knew that Voldemort was waiting for him right that very moment. Orion had told him that he wanted to be present for Scrimgeour's last moments.

His smile widened exultantly. He was rather looking forward to it.


"What a delightful little gathering," said Orion wryly seconds after he and his Elite had landed in the middle of Scrimgeour's office, right next to Voldemort's side.

They had interrupted one of Voldemort's speeches the wizard so much liked to give when he was about to kill an enemy, boasting and sneering with arrogance and supreme vicious smugness.

Of all the foolish things… Voldemort had just been disclosing how the Ministries of Ireland and Scotland were also being taken. Orion never understood the need the wizard had to rub in his enemy's face all his plans – it was quite stupid in his opinion, what if something went wrong and Scrimgeour escaped?

Of course, in that occasion, that was impossible. But it was still a stupid tendency of Voldemort's, in his opinion.

Orion repressed a roll of eyes at the Dark Lord and eyed the rest of the occupants in the office.

There were several Death Eaters, wearing silver masks, though he could easily recognize them – Lucius was among them, surely to savor Scrimgeour's downfall.

And there were two Aurors, with wands aimed at them and standing protectively by Scrimgeour's side. One was called Dawlish, if he remembered correctly. The other was none other than Kingsley Shacklebolt.

At the other side of the room, standing next to a Death Eater who had to be Yaxley, stood Pius Thicknesse, the Head of the Department of Magical Law and Enforcement and who had been under Yaxley's Imperius Curse for quite some time. And who had, up until that moment, worked to bring the other major department heads to their side – either through bribes, threats to their families of being attacked by Voldemort and his Death Eaters, or simply persuading those of proper background, disposition and family lines, to follow pureblood ideals.

Orion knew that it had all been done very covertly and secretly. Yet now, Voldemort evidently felt it was time to disclose it to Scrimgeour and his defenders, and take pleasure in their grim expressions.

To complete the tableau, and to his amusement, Percy Weasley was among them, pale faced, looking as if his neatly ordered world had just crumbled before him and as if the Compendium of Ministerial Laws had been shoved down his throat.

Orion smirked at all the attention his sudden appearance was receiving. Voldemort had halted in the middle of his little speech and was gazing at him with veiled pleasure. Merlin knew why – probably because he had dealt with the other Ministers quite quickly and had popped there on time.

Scrimgeour and the Aurors looked even tenser than before, their gazes turning from him to Voldemort and back, apparently readying themselves for whatever came their way.

A wave of excitement and anticipation seemed to ripple among the Death Eaters in attendance, because his arrival undoubtedly signaled the start of the end of the confrontation.

And his Elite, as disciplined, efficient and silent as they had so far conducted themselves during their visits to the other Ministers, stood flanking him with wands drawn and without saying a word, waiting for a command from his part or just to protect him if required.

Orion decided to break the silence that had spread through the office like a gathering storm.

"What are you waiting for?" he said calmly, glancing at Voldemort and then irreverently gesturing at Scrimgeour. "We all know he won't yield. Kill him and let's be done with it."

"What have you done to the Weasleys?" demanded Shacklebolt before anyone else could say a word, as Percy tensed by his side, also staring at Orion, though with apprehension and fear, while the Auror was pining him with a hard gaze.

Orion shot him a snide sneer. "As if I have to answer to you."

"I helped your friend," said Shacklebolt quietly, his fingers tightening around his aimed wand.

"Calypso, you mean?" Orion let out a scoff. "So what? It was the proper thing to do given that you're an Auror." He gazed at the wizard mockingly. "If this is your way of trying to get me to help you and Scrimgeour, I must say that it's a pathetic attempt. And pointless, mind you. I owe you no debt."

"Your father is with the Order-"

"And?" interrupted Orion crisply, his eyes narrowing to slits. "He's my enemy as well. Mentioning him doesn't work to your favor, Shacklebolt."

"You are the Boy-Who-Lived," said Scrimgeour in a steely tone of voice, moving to be in front of the two Aurors protecting him to be able to directly face him. A stupid move in Orion's opinion, no matter the brave and imposing stance the wizard was taking. "You are the one prophesized to kill him." The wizard shot Voldemort a fearless glance before he gazed at Orion again, his expression hardening as he continued sternly and gravely, "I am willing to forgive past transgressions if you stand with the side you have always been meant to support."

"Now you're trying to pull 'The Chosen One' argument, again?" said Orion, his voice laced with disbelief and scorn. "I refused the first time, what makes you think-"

Voldemort gestured at him to keep silent, which he obeyed out of sheer anger at the Minister's gall, and then the Dark Lord calmly took a step forward before the wizard could say another word, raising his wand as he said indolently, "I tire of this. I believe none of us have nothing more to say to each other. Bid your farewells, Scrimgeour."

It happened so unexpectedly, so suddenly, that Orion found himself staggering backwards. Abruptly, everything seemed to have erupted into mayhem, chaos and confusion. The only thing Orion knew was that Dawlish and Shacklebolt had jumped in front of the Minister to protect the wizard from Voldemort, just seconds before the office seemed to explode in a burst of white light which blinded him, his vision filling with black spots, making him blink repeatedly when he thought he was seeing Arian smiling, standing in the middle of the office.

He heard alarmed shouts, Titania's voice, along with Evander, Kara and Viktor's, crying out his name. But all he knew was that he was teetering to a side, the floor under his feet feeling as if it was moving, or perhaps it was he who was rocking and not the world.

And then, there was utter silence and his sight began to clear.

Orion gaped at his surroundings, yet he tensely clutched his wand. It was the strangest thing. He could see the walls of Scrimgeour's office like blurred images at the corners of his sight, but the rest…

He was in a garden, with the sun high up in clear blue skies, birds singing in nearby trees, a charming cottage a few feet away from him, surrounded by rows of bushes and blossomed flowers, and with a spring of gurgling water right next to him which ended in a pond with water lilies and croaking frogs.

And before him stood Arian, in impeccable pale blue robes and a sphere of glowing magic hovering at his side. For a moment he thought he was gazing at an illusory mirage of an unearthly beautiful being.

"What have you done?" Orion blurted out, one of the first questions that came into mind, too befuddled and feeling too disoriented and confused to do or say anything else. "Where are we? What is this?"

"We're still in the Minister's office, yet not," replied Arian, shooting him a pearly-white smile. "We're at the outskirts of Nice, in France. Beautiful place, n'est ce pas?" His smile widened as he gestured at the cottage. "That was the Flamel's, one of the things they left to me."

Orion stared at him incredulously, while hesitantly touching the scar on his forehead. He couldn't feel Voldemort through their connection. He couldn't hear the Elite through the spell they had cast on themselves. He couldn't sense anyone but himself and Arian. It was as if they were alone in a world of their own.

He had expected Arian to barge in with an army of Illuminati, not… this. Never this.

"You have trapped me in an overlapping of space?" he said as he let out a shaky exhalation of breath.

He didn't say what he was inwardly yelling at himself. That it was impossible. That it was a mere theoretical concept, and that no wizard had ever accomplished such thing in practice. He knew this – it was one of the many things explained in the book about time-travelling and bending of space that Calypso had made him read when she had given him the time-turner she had cajoled out of Vagnarov.

"This is no trap," murmured Arian quietly as he slowly walked towards him, as if one approaching a skittish colt that would bolt if frightened or threatened by sudden moves, while the sphere of magic bobbed in mid air after him. "I just thought that it was time to show you something, given that you've decided to take over England waving the Dark's banner."

Orion pulled himself out from his mind-blogged thoughts, gathering his wits and alertness back to himself. But he didn't raise his wand at the light wizard. He didn't quite know what to do.

Attacking Arian could work against him – he had no clue how to break the overlapping of space. He didn't know how to return to Scrimgeour's office. Arian was possibly the only one who could take him back. Thus, he swiftly decided he would have to play along and see what the light wizard was up to now.

"Alright," he said coolly, crossing his arms over his chest. "What do you want to show me?"

Arian shot him a bright, dazzling smile, as if he had just made all his dreams come true, and instantly waved a hand. The sphere of magic beside the light wizard burst like a glittering bubble, giving way to something that had been inside it and which Arian took into his hands and brought forward as if presenting it to him.

"The Holy Grail?" said Orion with disbelief, his eyebrows shooting upwards and then letting out a bark of humorless, sharp laughter as he stared at it. "You're giving it to me?"

The magical artifact looked like… well, exactly how he had expected it to be. An unadorned chalice made of wood, yet the inside of it was gold plated and shone under the sunlight.

Arian stared at him with exasperation. "Of course I'm not giving it to you. Don't be ridiculous."

In the next second, the light wizard was charmingly smiling again while he gestured at him to come closer to the spring. "This is the place where Perenelle did for me what I'm about to do for you. That's why I chose it. It's kind of commemorative, wouldn't you say, hmmm?"

Orion frowned without beeping a sound, though the light wizard didn't seem to care.

As the man crouched by the pond to submerge the Cup in it, bringing it up again filled with fresh water, Arian glanced at him as he continued speaking, with a somber expression on his face yet also with a smile that told of fond and cherished memories, "Perenelle was an exceptional woman - unlike any who has ever lived. She was a halfblood, you know? The daughter of a famous muggle French archeologist of the 18th century who married an Egyptian light witch."

Arian chuckled under his breath as he stood up, carefully holding up the Cup. "I often told Perenelle that she had quite an interesting mix of blood - delicate French features embellished by large and beautiful black Arab eyes and tanned skin inherited from her mother."

As he started to reach Orion's side, Arian shot him a pointed glance. "She went to Beauxbatons and then pursued the same career as her muggle father. She got a degree in Archeology from Oxford University and a double wizarding Mastership in Curse Breaking and Ancient History from Paris' Grand École des Magique Études."

"What are you trying to get at?" interjected Orion impatiently, moodily scowling at him.

Arian shot him an annoyed glance before he continued cheerfully babbling as if he hadn't been interrupted at all. "By the 1750s, she was already a famed archeologist both in the muggle and wizarding world." His cerulean blue eyes sparkled. "She was an adventurer! Fearless, passionate and so stubborn."

He chuckled again, shaking his head with fond, reminiscent amusement. "Nicholas met her in 1799 when he was in Cairo for a meeting of the Covenant of Alchemists and when she was giving a lecture in the British Museum about the discovery of the Rosetta Stone – she had been part of that French muggle archeology expedition. Nicholas attended the lecture out of sheer curiosity, you see, and they told me it was love at first sight."

The light wizard flashed him with a dazzling smile. "By then, of course, it had been several decades since she had found the Grail."

Orion pierced him with a narrowed-eyed gaze. "Perenelle found it?"

"Oh yes, she did!" said Arian jovially, his expression one of exultant pride. "And she did it all on her own – remarkable, n'est ce pas? She was twenty-four years old when she embarked on the quest of following all the clues she had discovered in her research. You should have seen her! I have, many times - looking into her past."

The light wizard's smile widened from ear to ear. "She almost died several times as she explored the deserts of what is now Jordan, but she never gave up. In the end, she found the legendary Half-Moon Canyon and the temple carved in it – where I had left the Grail, when I had been Galahad, under the protection of my fellow Knights and quest companions, Perceval and Bors."

"Why are you telling me this?" snapped Orion gruffly.

Arian utterly ignored his question, instead pinning him with a chiding glance. "Do you know why I left my two friends behind guarding the Grail, hmmm? There were there for countless centuries, drinking from the Grail to expand their lives so that they could protect it."

The light wizard took a step to be face-to-face with him and he tutted scoldingly before he continued, "I left them behind because after I drank from it and remembered who I had been, I was certain that I would be able to help you. I took a vial with water from the Grail and I went looking for you. It took me a long time, but I found you, in Bornholm Island with your dear Durmstrang already almost built – married to a dark witch and with a son. Do you know what you did when I appeared before you and asked you to drink the water?"

"No," replied Orion crisply. "You know I don't remember anything about my life as Mordred. I just know what the Kraljica Mati told me and what she showed me in her memory."

"You killed me," said Arian dryly. "You wouldn't even listen to what I had to say. It was very unchivalrous of you, n'est ce pas?"

"And you didn't fight me back?" sneered Orion, without showing the startlement he felt.

Arian shot him a wryly amused look. "No. I admit I was quite soft-hearted when I was Galahad. Even after I remembered everything." He locked his gaze with his, his lips quirking upwards. "You see, I preferred to let you kill me than to hurt you."

Orion narrowed his eyes to slits, and ended up peeling his gaze away from Arian's to eye the Cup brimming with water, deciding to ignore the wizard's words and get to the point. "So that's what you want me to do now, drink from it?"

"Exactly," said Arian brightly, widely smiling at him. "It not only makes you retain your youth and expands your lifetime if you drink from it with some frequency, but it also makes you remember all your past lives, starting from the very first. It isn't called the Cup of Life for nothing."

The light wizard held up a hand the moment Orion parted his lips open to tell him just what he thought about the idea. "Don't be foolish and listen to me. If you take just a sip, you'll remember a few of the most important memories of your first life. I'm not asking you to drink a full cup. Just a sip, and only more if you want to. There's no other way you'll remember your first life."

Orion frowned at the latter but then demanded sharply, "What about the block Vagnarov built in my mind-"

"It won't be affected, I assure you," interrupted Arian with a dismissive wave of his hand, brightly smiling at him in the next second. "The way water from the Holy Grail works has nothing to do with the Necromancer's way of making one remember past lives or with what Cadmus the Dementor did to you."

"Why should I do it?" snapped Orion caustically, piercing him with narrowed eyes. "Why should I trust you?"

Arian gazed at him with a grave expression on his face. "Because know it or not, I want what is best for you."

Orion snorted scathingly, not believing him for a second, and then he shot him a partly suspicious and a partly curious glance. "You said Perenelle had done this for you. What, exactly, was your relationship with her?"

"You want to know about that, hmmm?" said Arian in a playful tone of voice, shooting him a pearly-white smile filled with amusement before his expression sobered up into a solemn one. "She was a mother to me, a friend, a sister, and my first lover in this life."

Orion gawked at him at the last words, but before he could say anything, Arian went on with a soft smile of reminiscence on his lips, "I had been living with them for four years. I was seventeen years old and she was still looking as young as ever. I made love to her right here."

Arian gestured at the lawn near the spring, his expression turning sad and melancholic for a very brief moment. "It happened the day I overheard Dumbledore talking to the Flamels, convincing them to destroy the Philosopher's Stone. That night, Perenelle came into my room and brought me here."

The light wizard shot him a glance and muttered quietly, "It was then when she revealed the Holy Grail to me. I already knew about the Vindico Lumen issue, about the Illuminati and about my father, and I had done several things regarding the matter, but I still didn't know who I had been. Perenelle told me the Grail was rightfully mine and she didn't have to persuade me much to make me drink from it. After I remembered everything, I made love to her."

Seeing Orion's gaping mouth, Arian chortled and quickly added, "It wasn't cheating on Nicholas. Though, I had no reason to be loyal to him since everything he taught me he did it following Albus' orders – to mold me into what they wanted me to be. I esteemed him, certainly, but I didn't feel any duty towards him. I didn't owe Nicholas anything, n'est ce pas?"

He shot him a hard glance before he continued pleasantly, "However, Perenelle and I didn't love each other that way. How could we, hmmm? She loved her husband till the very end. It was merely a farewell, an act of giving comfort from my part. You see, she aged very quickly after that day when they destroyed the Philosopher's Stone – both she and I knew what would happen to her and Nicholas. In the end, they looked like corpses, their bodies skeletal, their skin dry and sucked in. They could barely move. They died on their bed, holding hands." A soft smile formed on his lips. "Perenelle died just a few seconds after Nicholas, and she used her last breath to say my name. My real one, of my first life. I am grateful to her for that, as for many other things."

"Your real name?" muttered Orion quietly, frowning at him.

Arian flashed him with a charming, gorgeous smile. "Yes. So tell me, aren't you a bit curious to know about your first life, hmm?" He held up the Holy Grail, the water inside it glittering and sparkling with golden streaks as the sunrays reflected on it, while he murmured softly, "Take just a sip. Just one, and know that which the Dark Source never wants you to find out."

Orion jerked his head up, fixedly staring at him as he demanded sharply, "What do you mean?"

"Drink and you'll know," said Arian quietly, intensely piercing him with his cerulean gaze.

Orion hesitated, but then shot the light wizard a glower and brusquely took the Holy Grail from the wizard's hands, water spilling from the edges as he briskly took a short sip from the brim.