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Chapter Thirty-Two—Horcrux Research

"And you're sure this is fine."

"If it isn't, it's too late to worry about it now, isn't it?"

A second after Orion snapped the words, he blushed and leaned back against the seat. Harry was a little startled, but he laughed. Yes, he supposed it would be annoying for Orion to answer the question Harry kept asking again and again.

The point was…

Harry was still trying to grapple with the idea that it was fine for him to go spend time at Christmas with someone, instead of it being a special treat. With the idea that he was going back to Grimmauld Place, which he had last seen when Sirius was alive, with Sirius's father, who seemed intensely interested in courting him.

At this point, Harry had accepted that he couldn't leave Orion and Abraxas and the others who depended on him without protection, but spending the holiday at Orion's house was still something that seemed strange.

"Yes, you have a point," Harry said, looking up as the train slowed down. He rubbed his throat and thought about a black dog wearing a collar and on a leash, the way he had once pictured running through London streets with Sirius. Someday, when he had been declared innocent and set free.

Which had never happened, would never happen.

"Come on, Harry," Orion said, and stood up to reach for his trunk. "My father is impatient to meet us."

"And your mum?" Harry tried not to show how nervous he was as he stood and reached for his own trunk. He tried to reassure himself that Mrs. Weasley had always welcomed him and been fine with him. But on the other hand, formal pureblood Blacks were about as far from the warm and comfortable Weasleys as possible.

A sharp pain hit him under the breastbone. I'll never see Ron and Mrs. Weasley and Hermione and the twins and Ginny and Mr. Weasley or any of them again.

"She's an artist who travels around the world showing off her skills and working on commissions," Orion said, and Harry raised his eyebrows. "An illusionist," Orion added. "She can conjure whole imaginary castles as big as Hogwarts. She'll be home tomorrow, she wouldn't miss Christmas, but she's not there right now."'

"Oh," Harry said. "That's really brilliant."

"It is, isn't it?"

Orion herded Harry towards the door of the train compartment, and Harry bit his lip to avoid laughing at Orion's smug comment or the way that Orion seemed determined to take care of Harry like a sheepdog with one sheep. It was—endearing. He had wanted this, had wanted something like this—

Then Harry froze on the edge of stepping out on the platform. Arcturus Black looked nothing like he had imagined.

The man was taller than Orion, with darker hair that had a slight wave to it. He wore extremely formal black robes with silver buttons that made Harry feel nervous all over again. He clenched his fists and tried to force down his fear.

"Wow, he looks less like you than I expected," Harry muttered, for the sake of saying something.

"That's my mum's influence," Orion said. He shrugged, jumped off the train, and reached for Harry's trunk before Harry could stop him. "My father says my hair and eye color are really the only things I got from him."

Harry thought about saying that hair and eye color were a lot and the difference between father and son had more to do with the way they stood and acted, but decided it wasn't worth it. He at least managed to jump off the train by himself, but Orion then tucked Harry's hand in his arm and all but paraded him across the platform.

Harry did his best to calm down. He's doing that to show that he's not ashamed of you. He doesn't care about the stuffy, pompous purebloods who might stare at you.

But he might care a lot about his parents disapproving of me.

"Orion," Mr. Black said. He had a barely-there smile that made Harry a little more nervous. "And you must be Harry Potter."

"Yes, sir," Harry said. He half-bowed. It was the only thing he could think of that would convey politeness to someone he didn't know who was older than him. Well, maybe a pureblood would expect it, but maybe they wouldn't, and he had just made a fool of himself in front of Orion's father—

"Please call me Arcturus."

"A-all right, sir," Harry said, and then blushed as he realized that he was acting like an idiot. "Please call me Harry."

But he really hadn't expected this. It was one thing for Orion to want to court Harry, to stare at him in the way that made Harry feel cherished and which Harry didn't want to give up. It was something else entirely for Orion's father to welcome him. If nothing else, Harry had thought he would be suspicious of Harry's motivations in trying to get close to Orion.

Mr. Black held out his hand. Harry ruthlessly suppressed both memories of Sirius and memories of refusing Malfoy's hand in his first year, and shook obediently.

"Orion has told me a lot about you, of course. But I look forward to getting to know you better."

"Thank you, s—Arcturus." Harry probably still sounded like an idiot, but at least he had got it partially right.

He thought he could feel Mr. Black glancing at Orion, though. Probably wondering why in the hell Orion had decided to bring someone around who was so rude and stupid. Harry flushed harder.

"Hey, Harry," Orion said. "Father was talking about perhaps taking you to a Healer during the holidays."

Harry held up his hand, wondering if Mr. Black didn't know how extensive the injuries were and how much the specialized healing would cost. "Well, I would appreciate it. But I don't have the Galleons to pay you back for something like that."

Mr. Black caught his breath. Harry winced. Oh, right, great. I committed some other faux pas. I hate this.

Mr. Black, though, seemed to be put at ease by the mention of money. Maybe just because he was a posh pureblood, maybe for some other reason. Harry didn't think it was his imagination that Mr. Black's new smile was slightly wider. "Well. We, of course, will pay for the Healers, Harry, and you need not think that you owe us." He Levitated their trunks and turned around to lead Harry and Orion towards what seemed to be a fireplace. "Family does not owe debts to family."

What the hell?

"I…family?"

"It is not a secret from you that Orion intends to court you, I hope," Mr. Black said, and turned around to stare at his son in a way that made Harry have to stomp on the desire to move in between them to protect Orion. Orion shook his head back and forth. "Well, you will become part of the family."

"But I mean—I'm not yet. If Orion changes his mind about courting me, I might never be. Or you might decide that I'm unsuitable. And I really wouldn't have the Galleons to pay you back." Harry tried to sound calm and not frantic, but—

"You have already freed my son from an unworthy Lord, freed my cousin from a spell that would have caused him a great deal of pain if he'd tried to break it, and avenged my son for the Cruciatus Curse that Riddle cast upon him. If anything, we owe you the debt at the present time."

Harry felt as though someone had fired another Killing Curse at him that he'd managed to survive.

He didn't understand how his efforts to protect Orion and Abraxas and Alphard and some of the other Slytherins had turned into this. He had only ever been to Grimmauld Place before because he was Sirius's godson. That wasn't the same as being practically absorbed into the family at first meeting.

What does Mr. Black really know about me? How does he know that I'm not going to be a disappointment in the future? Or that Orion won't change his mind about marrying me?

Mr. Black, at least, switched to small talk then, and the rest of their way along the platform to the Floo was occupied with idle chatter about brooms and Harry's Sorting. By the time that Harry picked up the Floo powder from the bowl that Mr. Black offered him, he was feeling more relaxed than he had at the beginning.

But he did tense up again as he threw the powder into the fire and called out, "Grimmauld Place!"

This was going to be painful.

"Have you found anything about Horcruxes?"

Orion keeps his voice low. For all that they're in a back corner of the library that most people don't bother to visit and Abraxas has said he wasn't followed, this isn't the kind of thing they want getting out.

"Only one book." Abraxas shakes his head and scrubs his hands over his eyes, something that stuns Orion into silence for a second. He's never seen Abraxas do that. "And it only talks about how to make them and the process of implanting them into objects. Not the process of putting one in a living being. The author of the book doesn't even seem to consider that that's possible. Or multiple Horcruxes, for that matter."

Orion closes his eyes in frustration. He and Abraxas and Harry have been researching for more than a week now, and haven't found anything other than basic information about Horcruxes.

It's entirely possible that something exists out there, but that they'll never find it because a Horcrux has never been placed in a living being before and the ritual or spell they need was created to address some other kind of problem.

The thought makes Orion want to scream. He cannot lose Harry. And he will not.

"Orion."

Orion glances up quickly. There's a new note in Abraxas's voice, and Orion doesn't know what to call it. It doesn't help that Abraxas is staring straight ahead at the bookshelves in front of them, and doesn't look at Orion even when Orion deliberately shuffles around a little to the side in a way that should force Abraxas to look at him.

Orion tenses. If Abraxas is going to suggest leaving the matter alone, giving up…

Well. If he does, then he's not the sort of friend that Orion would want to have helping him research this problem anyway.

"Yes?" Orion finally prompts, when it seems that they're just going to sit here in silence for hours without moving.

Abraxas takes a deep breath and turns to face him. His hands are clutched around the sides of the latest book that they removed from the shelves, one on sacrificial rites. His cheeks are flushed and his eyes shine like stars. Orion relaxes a little. This doesn't look like the face of someone about to give up.

"I know a particular ritual," Abraxas says quietly. "Not about Horcruxes. About reversing the sacrifice that someone else made."

"So you think that—"

"We might be able to use it to reverse whatever Riddle did to Harry. Yes."

Orion turns and faces Abraxas fully. "There's a reason that you didn't want to tell me about it."

"First of all," Abraxas snaps, as though Orion has insulted him, "it has a high chance of not working. I don't want to do something that would get your hopes up if it turns out that we can't rescue Harry after all."

"Understood. And what's the second reason?"

"We're going to have to kill Riddle for it."

Orion feels his eyes widen. "We—what, why?"

"Because he's the one who made the original sacrifice, whenever or however he made it." Abraxas's face is grim in a way Orion never knew it could get. "He has to be there when we reverse it and send the piece of soul back where it belongs."

"And then he has to die."

"Because the ritual does demand a sacrifice. Yes."

Orion swallows quietly. He thinks that the only saving grace to the situation is that Riddle is still in a holding cell in the Ministry rather than in Azkaban, where it would be almost impossible to get to him.

There's another problem, though, one that he doesn't know if Abraxas has thought of.

"Do you think Harry would agree?"

Abraxas hesitates, then says, "He might not. Or he might not want to. But we have to explain the situation to him. And if need be, you'll have to manipulate him, Orion. Tell him that he needs to stay alive for you, that you'll lose it if he dies."

"Does Harry's hand have to be the one that takes Riddle's life?"

Thankfully, Abraxas shakes his head. "It might make the ritual more powerful, but depending on the permutation and the components we choose, it's not required. And I think that we'll have a hard enough time persuading Harry that we need to sacrifice Riddle at all. Persuading Harry to kill him would probably be impossible."

Orion nods shakily. He's running Abraxas's instructions over and over in his head.

A possible way out. A way for Harry to live, and be free of the Horcrux.

But at the same time, no matter how hard it is to convince Harry, Orion knows he cannot lie to him. Not manipulate him the way Abraxas is suggesting.

It will have to be the truth, and getting Harry to agree some other way.

"What's wrong?"

Orion jumps and turns around as Harry enters the dormitory. He thinks Abraxas must be standing guard by the stairs to ensure no one else comes up, or they wouldn't be alone this time of the evening. "What do you mean?"

"You were fidgeting in the common room," Harry says, coming nearer. "You never do that. You barely ate at dinner, either, and the only time I saw you do that was right after we found Riddle's Horcruxes." His body tenses at the word, but he doesn't look away from Orion, his eyes starting to glimmer with the same fire that was in them when he saved Alphard. "What's wrong?"

"I—you noticed?"

Harry comes to a stop a few paces away from Orion, all his muscles tense. Then he says, "I can't worry about you? You're the only one who can worry?"

"No, I just—I didn't expect you to notice," Orion blurts out. "I didn't think you were that observant."

"Where it comes to you, I am."

Orion wants to show exactly how warm he feels, hearing those words from Harry's lips. But he can't, not when the situation is so serious. He steps forwards and sets up a Privacy Charm, only noticing after he's done it the shimmer of another one Harry must have cast on the bedroom doorway.

He breathes out slowly. Harry waits, still and tense, eyes fixed on Orion's face and magic sparking around him as if he plans to rip whoever is distressing Orion apart.

"We found a ritual that could work to remove what's behind your scar," Orion whispers. He doesn't want to name it. For some reason, he thinks he'll stand more chance of persuading Harry if he doesn't. "But it requires Riddle's death."

Harry's eyes widen. "And you thought I wouldn't agree."

"I can't see you ever agreeing to murder, Harry. And even though it would be ritual sacrifice of a sort, it would still be murder. Or I thought you would see it that way." Orion has spent all afternoon thinking about how upset Harry will be, to the point that he can't tell how much he's upset at the thought of ending a human life and how much is just anticipation of Harry's reaction.

Harry stares at him, eyes quiet and wide. His magic has calmed down. Orion is encouraged by the fact that he at least hasn't fainted dead away or stalked out of the room in a whirl of rage, and keeps talking.

"There could be some other way. The problem is that we could keep researching for years and not find that other way. And anything else we found could be even worse. Or Riddle could be in Azkaban by then and we wouldn't be able to get to him. I mean, I would be grateful if he was sentenced to Azkaban, of course I would, but—"

"I understand, Orion," Harry interrupts quietly. "I do."

Orion falls silent. This isn't the reaction he was anticipating, at all. Harry comes forwards a few steps and rests his hands on Orion's shoulders. Orion leans closer to the heat he puts off, as fascinated as he was the first time he saw Harry confronting Riddle.

"Why would Riddle die?" Harry asks. "Because the Horcrux would be torn out of me and return to him? Why would that kill him?"

Abraxas has told Orion enough about the ritual that he can answer this, luckily. "Because it would reverse what he did," Orion says. "Because right now, he's immortal. He can't die. Returning the piece of soul would make him mortal and the force of it, the repairing of his soul when that's not supposed to be possible, would just—catapult him straight into the death he was trying to avoid."

"This is theoretical, then."

"Yes."

Harry nods. "But we would have to have Riddle there, but we wouldn't have to cut his throat or anything."

"No. That sounds like—Harry, you're willing to do it?"

"Yes." Harry squeezes Orion's shoulders slightly and looks into his eyes, but also almost seems to be looking past him. "I don't think I could, if it was cutting his throat. But I want this thing out of me, and I want to live. More than I want to avoid killing Riddle." Harry breathes out slowly and meets Orion's eyes fully this time. "I want to live for you, and I want to be free of it because I would always worry how it might influence me otherwise. And you deserve better than either my fear or being hurt by the Horcrux."

Orion swallows and steps closer. He loves Harry the way he is, and that includes Harry's differences from a "typical" Slytherin. He really did think that Harry would refuse to kill Riddle, and Orion would have accepted that and found some other way.

Maybe it's different because of the way Riddle will die, like Harry said. Maybe Harry just loves strongly enough that he's willing to do anything for the people he loves, even something that would otherwise be distasteful to him.

Orion doesn't care enough to question it.

He leans up and kisses Harry, and Harry kisses him back, strongly enough to make Orion sway and nearly slam into the nearest bedpost. Harry pulls back from him, not quite smiling, but not with a storm in his eyes, either.

"We'll do this," Harry says softly. "And then—well, I was up against Riddle in several different forms in the future. In a way, this is bringing what I was supposed to do full circle."

He tightens his grip on Orion's shoulders. "But better, because I won't be alone."

Orion steps closer still, until it feels as if their magic is going to blend together, and vows silently to do everything he needs to to make sure the ritual succeeds and Harry isn't alone when he faces down Riddle.

He'll never be alone again, if Orion has anything to say about it.