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Chapter Thirty-Three—Bewilderment

"Hello, darling. Hello, Orion."

"Hullo, Mum."

Harry lingered in the background as he watched Mrs. Black kiss and hug Orion. She was so elegant, so that he felt he would almost smudge her by going near her. She was wearing robes that seemed to shimmer in different colors of silver, and a hair net that sparkled with both silver and gold. She was the kind of woman who was part of this family, and Harry—

Harry had done his best to smooth down his hair and stuff before he came into the Floo room to meet Mrs. Black, but it wasn't like it had worked.

"And this is Harry Potter, my friend and fellow Slytherin."

Harry stepped forwards with as calm a smile as he could.

"Yes, you mentioned him in your letters." Mrs. Black put both her hands out and bowed her head a little as if she wanted to see where she should start picking the meat from his bones. "Welcome to you, as well, Mr. Potter. I am glad that my son has such a good friend."

"Um, thank you, Mrs. Black." Harry extended his hands. He knew he didn't look graceful, but at least he didn't think he was wrong. "I want to thank you for inviting me here for the holidays. I know that you were probably looking forward to spending time with just your husband and son, so I know that it's a little—"

"It is the first time that we have opened our home to one of our son's friends during the holidays, yes," Mrs. Black said. But she was smiling at him, as if it was perfectly fine, and Harry blinked and relaxed despite himself. "But that is simply because our son has, in the past, not always chosen the caliber of friend he might have."

"Orion didn't have much of a choice about that, Mrs. Black."

Harry couldn't help the cool tone that his voice took on. If Orion's parents understood the situation in Slytherin but blamed Orion for it, there would be words.

"No, perhaps he did not," Mrs. Black said, and at least she seemed to be considering it. "I did wonder why he made some of the decisions he did."

"I promise that he had good reasons for those decisions. Riddle's power was pretty absolute in Slytherin. Even the people who might have been able to challenge him didn't. Orion did what he had to to survive." There, Harry was pretty sure that he had put that the right way. Orion had said that both his parents had been in Slytherin. They would understand survival.

"Yet you managed to challenge it, Mr. Potter. Within a few months of arriving, I'm told."

Oh, no. You're not going to use me to criticize Orion.

"Yeah, but I didn't grow up with it and get crushed by it for years like the other Slytherins did. And I didn't have family members I had to be afraid for."

"You are not related to the Potter family, then?"

Harry could feel himself flush, and he shrugged, but he didn't look away from Mrs. Black, and he remained determined to defend Orion. "The relationship there is—complicated. I didn't really know that much about my father, and I don't even know for sure what his exact relationship with them is. But anyway, I got Riddle to concentrate on me so that he didn't even think about going after them."

"Harry grew up mostly in the Muggle world, Mother. And he didn't plan to join Hogwarts at all until this year."

"I see." Mrs. Black kept looking at Harry as if she thought he had some kind of answer as to why Orion hadn't resisted Riddle before this. Harry braced himself for disapproval, or questions. "Well, Mr. Potter, you are indeed welcome in our home. But I would be curious to hear the answer to one question."

I knew it.

"If I can answer it, Mrs. Black, I will."

"What, besides your lack of years of fear and your family connections, made it possible for you to go up against Riddle? I have heard that he is an uncommonly powerful young wizard, and even those older than he was, including the professors, rarely interfered with him."

Harry lifted his chin. So she would keep picking away at this. Well, he would answer as many questions as he needed to to make it clear that Orion hadn't been—stupid, or incompetent, or whatever Mrs. Black was implicitly accusing him of.

"What Riddle was doing was wrong. I have power, too, and it's right that people with power stop people who have it and are misusing it." Harry thought for a second he might be able to stop there, but he remembered what Sirius had always said about his family, and continued, "And I'm a Parselmouth, so that showed people he wasn't as unique as he liked to think. And I can resist the Imperius, so when he tried to use that on me, I shook it off. But mostly the first thing I said."

Mrs. Black stared at him with wide eyes for a moment. Harry held his ground, and told himself that he did not care if she disapproved of him. Only Orion mattered.

Then she smiled and kissed him on the cheek. Harry blushed, furiously, but at least he didn't choke on his own spit.

What the hell?

"Welcome to our home, indeed, Mr. Potter," she murmured. "Thank you for saving my son."

"I, uh, you're welcome, Mrs. Black."

"Please do call me Melania. I insist," Mrs. Black said, when Harry opened his mouth to say that he couldn't possibly do that. "And I would be pleased to call you Harry, if you would grant me that courtesy."

"Yes, of course," Harry said, and felt Orion move over to his side. Harry flashed him a smile that he hoped didn't look too grateful. "I, thanks, Melania."

"Have you spoken to the house-elves about dinner yet?" Mrs. Black said, and turned around to look at Mr. Black. It would probably have looked like a normal gesture to anyone else, but Harry did notice that she hadn't let go of his hands yet. "Because I think we should ask them to make Harry's favorites."

Harry felt as if someone had hit him over the head.

"Oh, no! I couldn't put you to the t—"

"It is a small enough reward," Mrs. Black said, as if she hadn't just completely turned around Harry's impression of her impression of him, and let his hands go. "During the holidays, we take turns asking for meals that we like, depending on whom the family feels has made the greatest contribution to the household that day. I think you have earned at least five nights of meals."

I don't know how to deal with this.

Harry did his best, though. He tucked his hands behind his back and smiled at Mrs. Black in a way that he hoped looked polite and not gormless. "If you think so. Then, um, I really like shepherd's pie. And treacle tart," he adds, because apparently one dish wasn't enough.

"And anything else?" Mrs. Black waved a hand. It must have been a silent signal, because a house-elf popped up. Harry swallowed and tried to remind himself that this elf hadn't done anything, not like Kreacher.

But apparently he also needed to talk about some more food. Harry was at a loss. He would do his best, he supposed, and try to sound calm and polite and also talk about food that would be high-class enough for the Blacks.

"I mean, some fruit would be good. Salad. I—can the salad have lots of cheese and salmon in it?"

Harry caught his breath when he was done talking, because he was probably an idiot, but Mrs. Black only nodded. "Of course. Talia, take this order back to the kitchens…"

Harry supposed he must have been watching the elf—Talia—too obviously, because Orion leaned over on his other side. "Did wherever you lived before this not have house-elves?"

"Oh, it did. Sometimes." Harry was thinking of Grimmauld Place as he watched Talia vanish, the Grimmauld Place that both was and was not this bright house full of people who seemed determined to be kind to him.

Orion held out his arm, and Harry turned towards him and shook his head a bit to remove all thoughts of house-elves. He wouldn't be able to explain it, and he didn't want to lie to Orion.

It was becoming more and more important to him that he not lie to Orion, that he treat him well. Harry wondered if that was a good or a bad thing, and what would happen to Orion if Harry simply vanished back to his own time one day.

"I can lead you back to your room, if you want."

"It's straight up the staircase," Harry started, but then he met Orion's eyes and saw the yearning there. Orion wanted to do things for him. And Harry wasn't so used to that that he was able to resist it. He smiled and rested his hand on Orion's arm. "Yes, all right."

Orion gave him a faint smile, and that smile lingered in Harry's mind even once he was back in his room, preparing for dinner.

This is so bloody weird.

"How does this ritual work?"

Harry's voice is low and soothing. Orion sighs where he stands behind Harry in one of the dungeon rooms that have been abandoned for years. It annoys him that Harry is the one who has to soothe Abraxas in this situation, when Abraxas found the ritual and should be an expert who can explain it.

But this is apparently what Abraxas needs at the moment, and Orion knows Harry will only get angry if he tries to interfere.

And sure enough, Abraxas's shoulders relax. He's standing on the other side of a Transfigured table spread with a huge piece of parchment, containing a ritual circle so intricate that it looks like a map. He traces his wand over a schematic in the middle of it, and a red circle follows the wand tip. "You build the circle out of crushed gems and will."

"What?" Orion says sharply.

Harry glances at him and then back at Abraxas. "What does that mean?"

"It means that it's insanely dangerous," Orion says, stepping forwards. He meets Abraxas's eyes. "You never said anything about building a circle of will."

"We didn't talk about it before this, either. This is what has to be done."

"Please tell me what this means and why it's dangerous."

Orion shakes his head a little and turns to Harry, hating that he's the one who needs the calming tone right now. But Harry is watching him with that quiet gaze he seems to have taken on since they talked about killing Riddle, and Orion forces himself to relax. "Building a circle of will means that you hold the image in your head of what you want the circle to look like, and everything that happens takes place inside that circle."

"And you have to think about it and maintain it no matter what else you're doing?"

Orion nods, a little glad that Harry understood the problem without his having to explain it in more depth. He would have shouted. "So while you're getting ready to kill Riddle or reverse the sacrifice of what's inside you, you would have to hold the image of the circle in your mind, too, and never let it falter."

Harry nods slowly, his eyes distant. "What is the actual process of reversing the sacrifice?"

"Riddle would have to stand at the other end of the circle," Abraxas says, and moves his wand, the red circle chasing it across the parchment. "He would have to be bound with one set of silver wires."

"He could take that off," Orion snaps.

"I told you this ritual is dangerous."

"Why silver?" Harry interrupts, before Orion can complain again.

"Because it connotes purity," Abraxas says, and moves his wand again, this time over to the opposite end of the parchment. "You'll be standing here. And you'll strive inside the circle of your will. You working to reverse the sacrifice. Riddle working to—to keep it, I suppose." For the first time, Abraxas falters and frowns.

"So it's not so much a ritual as a duel?"

"If you want to think of it like that, yes."

"Harry isn't trained in Occlumency or Legilimency the way Riddle is! You're setting him up to fail!"

Orion draws his breath in to shout some more, but stops when he feels Harry's hand resting on his shoulder. Harry steps past him and watches the parchment as if expecting the image of the ritual circle to leap to life and surround them. Then he glances up at Abraxas.

"It's not about that, is it? Or you would have brought up the requirement for Occlumency or Legilimency right away. This is about a battle of wills."

"Yes, my lor—I mean, yes, Harry. It's your will against his. Whoever wants their preferred outcome to happen the most wins."

Harry closes his eyes. Orion thinks he's considering the odds, but he murmurs, after far too little time, "I've always been stubborn."

"Please don't," Orion blurts. The mere thought of Riddle being almost free to move about inside the ritual circle, which Harry will have to hold at the same time as he's fighting the mental duel with Riddle, is enough to make him choke.

And he knows something Abraxas doesn't, and Harry doesn't seem to have considered. What about the time travel? What if Riddle isn't fighting to preserve the Horcrux, which he probably doesn't know about, but to send Harry back to the world he came from?

What if Harry still subconsciously wants to return there?

Harry gives Orion a small, grim smile, seemingly knowing exactly what he's worried about, and reaches out to gently touch Orion's cheek. "I won't let him," he breathes.

"How can you stop him?" Orion gestures violently at the schematic of the circle, so violently that the parchment wavers back and forth from the wind of his arm. "You don't know that you'll be able to—"

"I know that I can." Harry's eyes are tranquil in a way that Orion doesn't like. It seems as if he's accepted any and all consequences of this ritual, and it's driving Orion mental. "Like I said, I've always been stubborn. And I know that Abraxas wouldn't have brought this ritual to us if he really didn't think it would succeed."

Orion turns to Abraxas, frowning. Abraxas holds his hands up. "Harry's right, Orion. I think he has a real chance, and I also think this may be the only chance to get rid of the thing in Harry unless we want to make some kind of appeal to the Department of Mysteries. They have people who practice soul magic. But they'd ask an awful lot of questions that none of us wants to answer."

Orion nods, feeling queasy. The Unspeakables might even want to keep the Horcrux in Harry so they can study it. Father has muttered more than once about the mad things they get up to over there, keeping dangerous beasts alive and chained up who might escape someday, and casting active curses only to hold them in stasis afterwards.

"The ritual would be more secure with someone else to hold the silver wire around Riddle's wrists in place from the outside," Abraxas admits. "But there's no one else I would trust to bring into our group, except Alphard, and he's too young. Not powerful enough, either."

Harry seems to stop breathing for a moment. Orion turns and frowns at him. "What are you thinking?"

"Just—something."

"Harry."

"Isn't it true that Slytherins don't like to tell other people their secrets ahead of time?" Harry gives Orion a guileless look, green eyes shining, that he's far too good at. "I don't want to be embarrassed, Orion. I'll try one thing, and if it doesn't work, there's no harm done. We can just make plans to get Riddle out of his holding cell."

"Harry—"

"Please. Let me, Orion."

Faced with that, and with Abraxas's puzzled eyes swinging back and forth between them, Orion has no choice but to relent. He nods, but his stomach squirms the way it did at the thought of the Unspeakables as he holds Harry's eyes. "All right. I'll give you forty-eight hours. But after that, I want you to tell me."

"Thank you, Orion."

Harry smiles at him and slips out of the room. Orion watches him departing until Abraxas says casually, "He'll keep that promise, right?"

"What?"

"He never actually said he would tell you what he was doing after forty-eight hours are up."

Orion swears.

Harry slips back into their bedroom late that night, but Orion knows that whatever he went to accomplish, it's done. He's practically shining with exhilaration, and he comes over to Orion's bed instead of his own. He laughs a little, in fact, when he lies down next to Orion.

"What happened?" Orion keeps his voice low so as not to disturb the others.

Harry grins at him. "I found someone powerful enough to hold the wire around Riddle's wrists from the outside."

"How could you, though? Without telling them about what we're doing and the risk of Riddle reversing the time travel sacrifice?"

"He already knew about that."

"Harry, no."

"What?"

Harry's eyes are all wide and innocent again, but they're not going to fool Orion this time. He rolls over on one elbow and scowls at Harry. "Tell me that you didn't go and get Professor Dumbledore involved in this."

"You want me to lie?" Harry gasps delicately.

"Harry."

Harry shakes his head, and then all the laughter falls away from him so sharply that Orion sits up and gapes at him. Harry's face is bright and grim at the same time. He squeezes Orion's shoulder.

"We need to make sure that we can hold Riddle once he's inside the circle," Harry murmurs. "We need to make sure that I can concentrate on holding the circle and battling Riddle and not worry about keeping him captive, too. I'd accept help from a Horcrux itself if it would mean completing this ritual."

"You want to stay here."

Harry rolls to the side, and Orion finds himself pinned on his back on his bed, hands resting on either side of his pillow, blinking at Harry. Harry bends over and says softly into Orion's ear, "I've made the commitment to stay here. I want to be with you, Orion. With you and Abraxas and Alphard and the Potters and your parents."

Orion can't say what he's thinking because it would make him sound soppy. He snags his hand in Harry's hair and tugs Harry's head down, instead. Harry goes with it, kissing him fiercely, and they don't speak above a whisper for the rest of the night.

Orion opens his eyes and turns his head in the morning, and Harry is beside him, asleep, in the same position where Orion wants to keep him for always. Orion runs delicate fingers up Harry's neck and down his shoulder, and Harry sighs and snuggles closer to him.

They still have to come up with a plan for breaking Riddle out of the Ministry. And Abraxas probably isn't going to be happy about Dumbledore being involved, either.

But Orion knows what Harry means. He would do a lot worse than this to keep Harry here, too.