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Chapter Thirty-Four—Disturbed Circles

Harry heard Orion come into the tapestry room, but he couldn't turn to look. He couldn't take his eyes from the Black family tapestry and the name that was there, the name of a person who should have greeted him when he came into the house. Who wasn't there.

Does she disapprove of Orion courting a half-blood? Will I spread a path of doom and destruction behind me no matter what I do?

Orion settled at his side. Harry turned and stared at him, and he knew his voice was hoarse, but he couldn't do anything about that. "This says that you have a sister. Lucretia. I—where is she? Did I drive her away or something by coming here?"

Orion swallowed and seemed to fight the temptation to glance away. He touched the tapestry. Harry followed his pointing fingers and found the date 1932 there.

1932. A death date. The death date of a woman who Harry was almost sure was still alive on the Black family tapestry in Sirius's house. Or at least she definitely hadn't died in the 1930s. She'd grown up and married and—

"I think you didn't notice the death date," Orion said somewhere behind the pounding in Harry's ears. "She got dragonpox. Children don't get it often, but when they do, they often don't survive it."

Harry stared. Orion was looking at him in concern, he knew. He didn't manage to look away, though. This was irrefutable proof of—

What? That I've changed the timeline by coming here? But I knew that.

Well, no. He'd known that he'd changed the timeline of his own future, and he had accepted that and that he could never return. But it seemed that he had changed the past, too, by falling into it. Was he responsible for Lucretia's death? Or had this happened long before he arrived and he was truly in another world?

"Of course. I overlooked it," Harry made himself say. "I suppose—I'm sorry, Orion." He slipped his hand through Orion's arm and squeezed it. He could hardly say that he was sorry for causing his sister's death, if he even had.

Orion sighed and looked at the birth and death dates again "I don't really remember her," he said, and Harry had the sensation that Orion was offering something to him the way he might have offered a sacrifice at an altar. "I was only three when she died. But I think sometimes how different my life would have been if I'd grown up with a sister, and—" He shook his head.

Harry wondered that, too, and if he had been the one who had caused Orion to grow up without a sister. But since he couldn't say that, he made his own offering.

"You mourn her, and then you feel silly for doing it because it's not like you knew her to mourn her."

Orion practically jumped in place and spun around to stare at him. "How in the world did you know that?" he whispered.

Harry couldn't look at Orion. He stared at the tapestry for lack of something better to do, while his mind ran through the images of his parents he knew only from photographs, the godfather he had only spent less than two months with, total. "I've felt that way about a few people in my life. Including some I technically knew, but didn't feel as if—I didn't know the heart of them. But it's all right to mourn them, Orion. That's something I had to learn, and the way I learned it was hard. I wouldn't wish that kind of learning on anyone."

Orion was silent for a long time, but Harry could feel him shifting beside him. Harry leaned a little towards him. Orion could press their shoulders together if he wanted to, but right now, it didn't seem like he wanted to.

"Who were the people you mourned but didn't feel you had the right to mourn?" Orion murmured at last.

"My parents. A classmate of mine I saw die. My godfather."

"I'm sorry, too."

"Not your fault." Harry sighs and lifted his hand from Orion's arm. It didn't make the chaos swirling inside him any easier to bear, the confusion about Lucretia's death date and the fear that he might somehow have cost Orion his sister. "It's not the kind of thing that it's easy to talk about with other people, though. You're the first one that I've discussed it in any depth with."

Orion seemed to be looking down at the floor. "I'm honored."

Harry turned to him, trying to maintain a smile that he didn't think came off. "It's not that I didn't have friends," he said, because he wanted to tell the truth and didn't want to sound pathetic. "But I got used to tucking away all my mourning inside myself and saying I was fine when they asked. And there was always something else going on that seemed more important than talking about it. I don't know. Maybe it's the way I grew up."

Orion opened and shut his mouth a few times. Harry watched him closely, but Orion showed no indication that he was going to collapse into pitying Harry. He finally blinked and said, "My mum really likes you, you know."

Harry blinked himself, just because it was so unexpected, and then laughed. He tried to look like the person Orion probably thought he was, someone totally normal that Orion was having a totally normal conversation with. "I suppose that comes from me saving your life?"

"And my honor."

Wow. I didn't know I could blush brightly enough to hurt. "Er…"

"My mum has hinted to me sometimes that I'll need to think about getting married, but she—I don't think she really liked any of my choices," Orion said, his words curling around each other. "I never talked about anyone that way, and what she knew of my classmates, she didn't like."

"And you really don't think they were planning to marry you to Walburga?"

"Why are you so stuck on that, Harry? No, I'm pretty they sure they weren't."

"Something some of the older Slytherins said," Harry mumbled, because he couldn't very well say That's what you did in the reality I came from. "They said that Blacks tend to marry into the family, as it were."

Orion shrugged, looking a little disgusted. "It's not unknown. There are so many of us that we can often marry without any closer relationship than second cousins. Or we marry someone who had Black ancestry a few generations back. But I've never showed any interest in any of my cousins. And I wouldn't give you up now."

Harry blinked, and wondered what Orion would say if he knew about the time travel, if he knew that Harry might be the reason he didn't have a sister. But what he said was, "Good. I don't want to share the one person who makes me feel the most alive."

That was what he felt. That was what he thought he should say, even though it might mean Orion was more devastated if Harry disappeared again.

And he wanted to kiss Orion again. So he did. He shuddered a little as Orion's arms wound around his waist, as Orion's tongue darted out and touched his. He swayed in place, and thought that no one could really blame him if he fell over right then.

But when he went back to his bedroom after the kiss was done, he had to contend with those shifting thoughts again.

Perhaps he had already changed the timeline to the point that he would never vanish back into the future again. Sometimes he thought that, and sometimes he thought that he would still do it because whatever had brought him here could as easily send him back again.

But this was the first time that he had been confronted with concrete proof that something had apparently changed in this world before he arrived.

What does this mean? Why would my arrival have caused Lucretia Black's death?

Harry put his hands over his eyes and lay still for a long moment, trying to understand this.

Then he decided that he would probably never have concrete proof one way or the other. The thing that mattered, the only thing, was that he couldn't go on carrying the burden of the knowledge that he was a time traveler from the future and never share that with Orion. Orion deserved to know the truth.

Even though it'll mean that he'll probably reject you for lying. For being from the future and being someone who was his son's godson. For interfering in the timeline so that his sister died.

Harry shivered. Yes, it might mean all that. But he was still going to tell Orion the truth, and maybe the rest of the Black family, if Orion insisted. He didn't deserve the hospitality they had given him when he was lying all the time. He couldn't continue to take advantage of them.

If he curled up and mourned the death of what he could have had with Orion privately to himself, that at least was something that would hurt no one.

"It seems to me that your plan relies on getting young Mr. Riddle out of Ministry custody."

Professor Dumbledore's voice is mild, but his eyes glitter like steel. Orion bites his tongue. Harry is the one who deals most with Dumbledore, and sometimes Abraxas adds a touch of Malfoy haughtiness or charm. It's best for Orion to shut up.

It's not easy, mind.

They're in the Transfiguration professor's office, filled with so many weird trinkets that Orion sees a new one every time he turns his head. He tries not to. He wants to just focus on Harry, who's leaning forwards with a faint smile.

"I think I have a plan for that, sir."

Honestly, his respect for Dumbledore drives me mad, Orion thinks crossly. Harry has told him a little about what his relationship with Dumbledore was like in the future that now will never happen, and it doesn't seem to warrant this level of admiration of Dumbledore.

Then again, Harry is acting like a practical Slytherin, and accepting what the professor did to him for the sake of his help.

"Yes? And what is that, Mr. Potter?"

Orion tells himself it's probably his imagination that Dumbledore's tone is patronizing and his eyes twinkle a little as though he's indulging a young child. Probably.

Harry only smiles back, not seeming to take offense at all. "We use one of the Aurors who's indebted to you."

Dumbledore's eyes widen. Orion blinks. He sees Abraxas doing the same thing, and wonders if the explanation Harry is going to give depends on the time travel.

"Why would you think I have one, Mr. Potter?"

"I would assume it was more than one, sir. But I also think it's the only reason that you can be as informed about Grindelwald's movements as you were hinting at in our conversation the other day. Aurors would have that kind of confidential information, and someone might have passed it to you. Or maybe it's a Hit Wizard, or even the Minister. I don't know for certain. I do know that you must have connections in the Ministry that could make this easier."

Dumbledore stares at Harry. Harry stares back innocently. Orion finds himself wondering what the hell happened in the conversation between Harry and Dumbledore when Harry persuaded him to help.

"Yes," Dumbledore finally says, slowly. "I do have those connections."

"So you could use them to help us smuggle Riddle out?"

"Harry, my boy…"

"You could. And you know exactly how dangerous he is. He made two Horcruxes, sir. What makes you think that there isn't another one, hidden away?"

Orion's mouth falls open a little, but he manages to control himself before Dumbledore looks in his direction. Abraxas gives him a sharp glance, though, and Orion twitches a headshake at him.

Maybe it wouldn't matter. Dumbledore is staring at Harry as if he can't look away.

But if Orion is hearing this right, then Harry didn't tell Dumbledore that he has a Horcrux tucked away in his head. Even if Orion was all but sure that he did. And even if it seems that Dumbledore would have to know that to know the ritual would kill Riddle.

Which leads Orion to his next conclusion, which makes him feel as if he's about to faint.

Does Dumbledore know that the ritual will kill Riddle? Or did Harry convince him that this is a ritual that will render Riddle harmless, or even redeem him?

Did Harry manipulate Dumbledore into helping them while implying a lot and giving less away?

Dumbledore finally says, "Yes, you are right. There are—there are dangers to the future of the world that I cannot ignore. There are—other considerations than pure morality here. And there is the danger that even Azkaban might not hold Mr. Riddle, if his Knights continue their intense devotion to him."

He flays Orion and Abraxas with a single gaze. Orion knows why. It's meant to show them that he knows about the Knights of Walpurgis and that he knows all their secrets.

But Orion, still sitting there in the deep shock of the revelation that Harry might have played the professor, can't even feign the head-ducking and shamed blush that Abraxas does. He just stares at Dumbledore and blinks a little, then nods.

Dumbledore frowns at him, but turns back to Harry. "I will speak with my contacts in the Ministry. You would be well-advised to leave it to me."

Translation: He thinks Harry has interfered enough.

Harry just nods. His eyes are wide and guileless again, but they don't look guileless, or like he's trying, the way that some of the younger Slytherins are prone to giving away all sorts of information just from the way they look. "Thank you, sir."

Dumbledore sighs. "I hope I'm not going to regret this."

You probably will, but not for the reason you think.

Orion waits until they're several corridors away from the Transfiguration professor's office to clear his throat and ask, "Abraxas, would you mind going back to the dorms ahead of us? I need to speak with Harry."

"Yeah, I'll go," Abraxas says, his smile amused enough that Orion has to control the temptation to punch him in the face. "You two lovers have fun." He winks at Harry and speeds up a little.

Harry turns around, resting one foot against the wall and folding his arms. "You have a problem with my plan?"

"No," Orion says. "I just want to know more about how you persuaded the professor around. Harry…does he even know all the details?" He puts up a Privacy Charm after thinking about it for a second, because it's not impossible that Dumbledore has scattered Listening Charms the way the Headmaster's rumored to.

"No."

Orion shivers. "Not that I'm opposed to getting rid of Riddle," he says, and hears the huskiness in his own voice with a kind of wonder, "but what's he going to do when he does find out that you've tricked him?"

"By then, the ritual will be over. Riddle will be dead, and this thing will be out of me." Harry's sharp gesture at his own forehead speaks of barely-suppressed violence. Orion shivers again, desire and longing coursing through him like a river. "We can deal with whatever Dumbledore throws at us."

"We?"

"I assumed you would want to be involved." Without moving, Harry somehow seems to fold most of himself away, his head cocking a little. "If you don't want to be involved, then I can—"

"No, Harry, of course I want to." Orion steps right up to him, so that their chests are touching, although he already knows from the way his heart is racing that that isn't going to be enough for him. "I was just—you're such a Slytherin. More than I expected. You walk right into the man's office and manipulate him without even telling a lie." Orion's hand slides down Harry's chest what seems to be of his own volition. "It makes me burn."

Harry's eyes widen as he stares at Orion, and then he leans in and kisses him, hard. Orion kisses him back, reveling in the pressure of lips against lips, and feels Harry's hands close on his shoulders, fingers flexing back and forth in what feels like uncertainty.

"Command me," Orion says hoarsely, pulling back.

"What?"

"You want to command me to do something. Please, Harry. Please." His voice emerges desperate and as close to Parseltongue as Orion thinks he's ever going to get himself.

Harry stares at him for one moment longer, then leans back and spreads his legs, canting his hips forwards. "Get on your knees and suck me, Black."

It's exactly what Orion wants. He does it.

Pulling open Harry's trousers and pants is difficult because his hands are shaking so much. Harry watches him with half-closed eyes and shifts forwards again as if Orion might forget what he's doing. Orion moans helplessly and leans in with his mouth open.

It's overwhelming. It's choking. Orion has to pull back several times and cough.

It's everything he wants.

Harry comes just a few minutes later, slamming his head back against the wall and his cock down Orion's throat. Orion manages to hold on with his hands so Harry doesn't choke him this time. He swallows and swallows and ends up choking a little from the rush of that.

But it's worth it, to feel the way Harry's hand shakes in his hair and then tightens and pulls him towards his feet. Orion rises obediently, pressing his own erection against Harry, shaking. By all rights, Harry should be the one who's weak in the knees, but Harry is the one holding Orion up instead, gently stroking his back.

"Thank you," Harry whispers to him, and lowers his hand.

"I—please? Can we wait until we're back in the dormitory?"

Harry pulls back, blinking a little. "Even though that means that you'll have to walk all that way? Hard and aching?"

Orion presses close with a needy little sound. "I want to. Please."

Harry gives him a smile Orion has never seen before, dark and self-satisfied. "Yes. I'd like that."

Orion likes that, too. If he likes it even more when they get into their bedroom and Harry gets him off with long, smooth strokes of his tongue, he'll still clutch the memory of the way Harry looks at him close to himself that night.

Harry is everything that Orion's ever wanted.