Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or its universe, that's J.K.'s Rowling's.

AN: Hey! To those who are still reading this, thanks for your continued interest! I know, I know! It's such a niche pairing, but it's fun!

Chapter 13: To Die of Embarrassment

Derek and his wife, Pamela, were having fits of mirth.

Orion sighed and slumped in his chair. "I came here for counsel."

Husband and wife caught one another's eye and burst into laughter again. "Bit you!"

Derek wiped away a tear. "It's so perfectly karmic."

"Unkind," Orion mumbled.

"I'm not terribly surprised." Pamela smiled and checked several pearl bobby-pins holding up the wreath of thin light brown braids around her head. "She's a former dueling captain. She's in a national competition for dueling combat. She was welcomed with open arms to Beast Division. BEAST division. The Exterminator branch! Let that sink in. She's an aggressive woman, Orion! Who…possibly has an office fetish?"

He stared at her. "What?"

Pamela started giggling. "I wager she was going to pin you down to the desk and have her wicked, wicked way with you, sir. But you, alas, were in no mood for it."

"She was so horrid to Druella."

"Orion, as someone who also attended that shower, Druella is a cow."

Orion stiffened.

"Walburga was the only witch there who didn't have a child."

"Even so…"

"Where was your sister?"

He flinched at having his sister's name brought up.

"I…would think that out of delicacy to her, Druella wouldn't…"

Pamela's face showed confusion.

"My sister…my sister…" There was a lump in his throat. "She…can't…"

"Oh…I apologize."

He swallowed and nodded and looked away to compose himself.

He would not be an uncle by that way, especially since Ignatius had no desire to adopt.

His sister's difficulties had been discovered early and had deeply hurt her marriage prospects. Still, she had a husband who would not hold it against her. He tried to be happy for them and desperately hoped they were happy with each other.

"I'm still telling you it was by design. There are plenty of singles from upstanding families who could have been invited as well. The Flint sisters, the Fawcett cousins, the Stones, the Blues, the Knotts, I believe the Lestranges have a divorcée, Bulstrode's a widow. No, Druella drafted that guest list to be isolating for her."

"I don't like ladies of my household being accused-"

Pamela snorted. "Motherhood isn't a badge of goodness."

He felt an instinctive flare of defensiveness—thinking of his own mother.

"I…I don't know if we ought to… " She looked at her husband.

"You stay. I'll fetch them." He squeezed her hand before he drew away.

The way Pamela stared after her husband with a simple affection in her gaze made Orion glad for his friend, even as it drew his loneliness into sharper relief.

He didn't have that in his life. Not yet. Possibly not ever.

Derek arrived with what almost looked like a lockbox.

"For every photo on our walls, there are many others…that we don't put up."

He picked up one and sighed. "Rion, I…this might…hurt you, mate."

He stiffened.

"And I…from what you've told me and what I've seen, Walburga is very protective of you."

His face twitched and he made a sound of frustration

"I don't think she would ever tell you these things…not out of a lack of trust or enjoyment of secrecy or that sort of reasoning. It's because she either doesn't know how you'll react…or she does and she wants to spare you."

Orion extended his hand for the photograph.

Derek handed it face down.

The back stated the date and three names: Irma, Alphard, and Walburga.

He turned it over and his jaw clenched.

Some sort of downpour had occurred during an outdoor event catered by the Fawley's.

Mrs. Irma Black nee Crabbe was willowy and beautiful in a delicate, brittle sort of way with wavy dark blond hair that was bobbed fashionably.

Derek said, "She was rather…"

"Awful," Pamela answered at the same time her husband said "reclusive."

"Just coming right out with that, love?"

"She was awful," Pamela repeated.

The woman was sitting primly beneath her umbrella, a bundled up infant Alphard on her lap.

To the side, a toddler Walburga was getting drenched. The shortest Orion had ever seen her hair and it was plastered to her unhappy face.

She had no coat, her knee high stockings didn't match and were sagging on her small shivering legs, and when she reached tiny fingers towards her mother, the lady moved her skirts out of reach.

Upon this rejection, the child turned away, bunched her cold hands in her frock dress and stared the photographer down.

Orion released a long breath through his nose. "There's…more. Like this. Isn't there?"

"A few."

"…Show me."

There. In all of them.

Signs of neglect.

The dresses were fine, but there'd been no assistance in putting them on.

And she was too young to think of asking a house-elf for help.

She looked sloppy and uncared for, especially in the photos where she was positioned to stand beside his sister who was her same age.

She couldn't tie bows yet, and so the ribbons she wore were knotted at her waist and in her hair.

It made him angry. A soul deep, burning anger that he'd never experienced before let alone expected to have directed at their family.

At her immediate family. At his. At all the relatives at these gatherings that stood by and did nothing.

He continued through the photos.

She had more artful skill by the age of five. Though she struggled with dress straps that criss-crossed over one another and her pigtails weren't quite level with one another.

At six, she made flower crowns and knew how to plait her hair.

Not as crisp as the ones his sister sported, since Mother had always helped Luca with her hair for events and gatherings.

The slight unkemptness was nearly dismissible because the wildness suited Walburga a bit. There was a sharpness to her smile by then.

And the seeds of her beauty were already taking root.

She was already prettier than poor Luca, even with his sister at her most polished and cared for.

But where Luca stood gracefully, hands clasped demurely as she smiled sweetly and showed off her dimples…

Walburga…stood her ground. Feet apart. Hands on her hips. Sharp shoulders slightly forward. A prize ribbon clenched in one hand—she'd won some kind of competition and looked incredibly pleased with herself.

There was one particularly interesting find—a photo that showed her teasing him on the nose with the tip of one braid.

Toddler Orion got very cross about it.

And then, when she was distracted, he bit that braid and gave a vicious tug.

Her head jerked and her scream scared him into releasing her as well as into a bout of tears.

And she hastily tried to soothe him with flowers she'd picked—flicking them with her fingers so they changed colors with magic.

"Personally, I'm impressed she's not put off by marriage and babies altogether," Pamela admitted.

"I told you both about that Bagshot nonsense a few months ago and her saying she hated baby showers and that whole naming thing was just-"

"Well, from the way Obsidia told it later—she got a real sparkle in her eyes talking about Sirius and Regulus, wasn't it? A touch of the fever, I think."

"Be wary of that, friend." Derek chuckled and indicated the gray streaks in his dark brown hair. His wife wrinkled her nose at him.

Orion shook his head. "She's just play-acting. She wants us to fake a relationship for a month. She thinks it'll be easily done given my…reputation and the fact we…enjoy kissing. She knows my family has other hopes for me and that being with me, albeit briefly, will announce her availability to the wizarding world at large."

"And you bought that?" Derek remarked flatly.

"Hush now." Pamela gave Derek's shoulder a light, playful push. "I admire the boldness. It's a bit too obvious to be cunning, but the audacity is wonderfully striking."

"Be plain with me."

"She wants the pleasure of a relationship with you without the risk," Pamela theorized.

"Explain."

"She gets to be with you, see how that is, decide how she likes it, and then, if she doesn't feel it's right, she still gets to secure your continued friendship which she has deeply cherished for years."

"Should I yield to this…madness then?" Orion didn't think his heart would hold.

Pamela snorted. "Absolutely not. She needs to field the risk."

"Tell her you won't. Tell her if she wants to snog you, she'll need to play by the rules," Derek suggested.

He stared.

Derek's smile was irrepressible. "I admire the strategy. She's trying to cheat her way to the finish. From your updates…the Courting Chronicles of Orion and Walburga, which will go down in legend, she's made a lot of…statements about you that she will now have to face. She'd been using them to argue not just with you but herself."

"My husband is right. If she's said repeatedly that you're a flirt, she has to own up to the fact that she's fallen in love with a flirt. And I'm sure that's a bit scary."

Orion scowled.

"You have a reputation. You do. You built it through a lot of carefree nights."

His spirits crashed. He ran his hands through his hair and several locks fell loose and framed his face.

"Goodness, what a face. Just means you'll have to work a bit harder to prove yourself, Rion," Pamela murmured.

"What if you're wrong? And I'm just this…plaything to her? Her tag along companion who loved that stupid playhouse every summer. Pathetic Orrie who—"

"She fantasizes having children by?" Derek asked.

He ran his hands through his hair, mussing it even more. "How do you know she's not toying with me?! I'm too easy to manipulate, and with her saying everything I long for—?"

"Fine. I noticed something that night she came by and dropped the candies off," Pamela answered.

"And what did you notice?" He asked tiredly.

"I noticed that she stared a very long time at a picture of you with our girls—seemed rather taken by it".

"So?"

The woman leaned forward conspiratorially. "So, I think we ought to invite her over. Let her see you playing with the girls."

He heaved a sigh.

"Listen. She stared at the picture and in less than 24 hours was talking about babies with you—"

"We were at a baby shower—"

"Bollocks."

Derek grinned. "Tell us again about the whole Regulus competition thing."

More laughter resounded on recounting it a second time.

"Well, rest assured," Derek offered, "we will be certain not to use that name, I promise."

Orion perked up and scrutinized them. "Are you…?"

The two shared a warm smile and shrugged. "It's…still a bit early, so we haven't announced."

"Congratulations," he forced out.

"Oh don't be like that, it'll happen for you, mate. I think you're nearly there! I do!" Derek insisted.

Orion rested his elbows on the table and set his face in his hands.

"Orion, you're my best mate. Godfather of my girls and the next one too I hope?"

"Of course," Orion assured hastily, looking back up.

"I just…I may need to punch you. You're being thick. The woman you claim to love threw herself at you multiple times. Seems to have volunteered to have your children and invited you to Faerie Stone Falls…one of the most romantic hotels in Scotland. What more can she do? You're going to have to pull your own weight here, man."

There was a heavy beat of silence and then—

"I'm an idiot."

"Yes! He finally gets it."

"Huzzah!"

Husband and wife congratulated each other.

It was late afternoon when one of Walburga's coworkers announced, "Wizard to see you, ma'am."

If she noticed the tension in his voice, she dismissed it as a symptom of being less than fifteen minutes away from the end of his shift.

Work was numbingly dull and exactly what she needed to freeze out the inner turmoil.

"Thank you, Paul. Send them in."

Footsteps followed and the doors closed.

As long as she focused on work, she didn't need to think or feel or remember.

"Welcome to the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures: Beast Division. Exterminator Subdivision," she began not looking up from the 60-page report she was reviewing for her chief advisor, since she was one of the few who could interpret her father's penmanship easily.

"Drop-ins are advised that we are not a same-day service barring true emergencies. There are three color coded forms. Take one of each and fill them out. If you know the specific beast troubling you, I can research the best exterminators while you fill out the rest of your paperwork."

A bouquet of flowers was set down before her. "I'm rather fond of the beast in question, though it is known to bite."

She braced herself and looked up.

"Orion, I…am so sorry." She set the report aside.

"Good start. So am I." He took up the chair in front of her desk. "And now, a question? Let us see if convenient amnesia has descended on you this time?"

She propped her elbow on her desk and rested her head on her hand. "If I answer truthfully, can I request convenient amnesia on your behalf?"

His mouth twitched with a smile. "I will consider it."

She heaved a sigh. "Ask. I've an appointment at 4."

"Did you… barge into my office yesterday wanting to drunkenly snog me? Even in spite of us being in the midst of a row?"

"…"

"Yes or no?"

"Yes."

"And then you bit me."

"Yes. And you were very angry about it."

"I thought you did that vindictively."

"No. Just incompetence, I suppose."

"From brick to bear trap," he mused.

"Yes. You can leave now. Consider my humiliation complete. I told you…it's…it's all embarrassing. Learned my lesson, I'm rubbish and won't make that-"

He hastily cut her off with, "I assure you, it's an improvement." He then cleared his throat, took a breath, and continued more suavely, "Caught me a bit by surprise, which is difficult to do…but you did catch me, love. And my dear trap wanting to catch me is a step in the right direction."

He gave her a wink.

"Orion, it is an important appointment for the department and I can't afford to die of mortification in the next few minutes."

He laughed and then sighed and became more serious. "I lost my temper with you. I shouldn't have. Not with you. You made an excellent point. There is no reason for you to feel like you can't initiate romance between us. Is that why you draped yourself on me?" He swallowed. "You…you wanted to?"

There was an intensity in his expression that demanded truth.

She reluctantly acquiesced because the truth was stupid.

"…They…talk about it a lot in those silly books."

He smiled disarmingly. "Is that where a lot of your…recent inspiration is coming from?"

"…" It sounded so comical out loud. "Some of it…seems nice."

"I imagine so, that's how they sell. I take back my previous condemnation of your fantasies, if the majority involve desires of this nature…you draft me a list. I'll fulfill them."

"And should someone find that list, sir?"

"Then, they can be jealous of us. I swear, your timing keeps making it seem like you were showing off for the public, but I realized later that you came into my personal office, where there was no one but us."

"You haven't been…very…demonstrative as of late."

"I've been upset. Your plan upset me. Your invitation to the hotel upset me. Your demeanor at the baby shower upset me. The office scene was a…chaotic mess."

She huffed. "How could it all be upsetting?! I understand parts of that which would be, but I invited you to go on holiday with me!"

"Firstly, I want to court you. That means you give me an honest chance to woo you properly and then we decide from there. Secondly, I want to be invited to a hotel because you actually want me there. Rather than as a prop or an actor or as a simple security measure."

That irritated her.

"Why is it offensive to know that you make me feel safe? That I'd prefer you over…others?"

"Others like?"

"My family."

His expression lightened and he murmured, "It most certainly does not offend me to hear this."

"But you-you just…confusing man-"

"Tell it to me like that," he replied a bit breathlessly. "Tell it to me…just like that. I make you feel safe. You like to have me near."

She flushed and shook her head. "If I didn't like you near, I wouldn't suffer you and all of your mean-spirited teasing."

He frowned. "You were horrible in the carriage ride to and for the duration of the baby shower. You just were. Now, I have better insight regarding the, ahem, frustration I think you were dealing with. Which I imagine is a very new thing for you to navigate." He paused for a moment, looking deeply pleased. "You shall also find how very sympathetic I am to it, if you communicate your needs to me. Though," his smile faltered, "I want you to be sober when making such requests."

She stared. He…knew?

She took care not to let her jaw drop. "You expect me to…to talk about such… such…impulses with you?" And without champagne?"

"Dear God, yes." He gripped the edge of her desk in excitement. "Do not leave me in suspense. Tell me at least one you've had. Have you started daydreaming about me?"

"No." Her face burned.

He beamed. "Liar."

Her face flushed even more.

"Oho?" He waggled his eyebrows. "What do I do in these-"

"Orion," she warned him.

"Go on, tell me something about my person that has struck your fancy."

She lowered her voice. "Orion, I am at work. And even were I not, I can't say these things out loud. I'll sound like a simpleton. They're dumb and nonsensical. It hurts me to have them."

His smile began to fade and that sent a pang through her heart she wasn't expecting.

"I…I would hear them anyway," he implored softly.

"Fine. Fine. But do not say I did not warn you." Damn her weakness. "You want a ridiculous conversation with no direction? Let us begin. I like how you smell and touching your shoulders. And that your body is warm. There. You see? How that sounds out loud? All disjointed and odd?"

His eyes were warm. "…You liked being on the settee with me."

"Yes. And if it was nice on the settee, it should be nicer at the hotel."

His eyes widened, his ears went red, and he laughed a bit breathlessly. "Now…see?" He leaned forward. "Was that so hard? When this…this is what I want to hear. What else?"

"No. You've already heard all this and more and with greater eloquence from others."

That riled him.

"But I have not heard it from you. And that is all that matters to me."

She was going to cure him of this, having saved the most insipid observation for last.

"I like your jaw. A lot."

"Good." He chuckled. "Is that what made you so determined to touch it?"

"Yes. And you didn't kiss my hand. And you interrupted me twice by talking when I wanted to kiss you. When I wanted to know how that would feel-"

"Sitting on my lap and snogging me, preferably involving some teeth?" He guessed.

"Yes. I think that sums it up. Are we done now? I need to make copies of an agenda."

He groaned and she felt a strange shiver run through her at the sound.

"My lady had an appetite that went unsatisfied. Ugh, at the end you even told me what you wanted and exactly how you wanted it from me. I've been angry with myself all day, pet. But I stand by what I said earlier, no alcohol. None for me either going forward. Not when we're considering encounters of this nature. Can we be agreed on that?"

She was sure her face was beat red as she made a shooing motion with her hand. "Yes. Yes. Now. Goodbye, Orion."

He caught her hand and kissed her fingers, then gently ran his teeth against them.

Her body trembled and her face flushed to the point of tingling.

"How did I miss this?" He hmm'ed lowly and rubbed his thumb over her knuckles. "Well, we'll just have to be more honest with each other, won't we? These are the things you need to tell me, darling. Now, see how I don't break the skin?" He demonstrated again.

She used her free hand to gently push his face away, except he nipped playfully at her palm and she gasped.

This was entirely inappropriate for the workplace. Was that the real lesson he was trying to deliver here?

"Time to go," she bit out as she plucked her hand from his.

She needed to escort him out. Immediately. Before something really scandalous happened in this room or she missed the meeting. Or both.

Decided, she stood, made her way around the desk, and then tried and failed to pull him from his chair.

He caught her when her efforts made her trip and used the opportunity to set her delicately on his lap.

"I-I-I get it. When you're trying to work, it is not the time for a romantic rendezvous. Goodbye, Mr. Black," she stated forcefully.

He kissed her farewell, with passion and teeth, and he seemed overjoyed at the ridiculous sounds she made in response.

His gray eyes were focused intently on her as he drew back, panting. "Oh, we are going to have fun with all of this, my darling. And you have my express permission to interrupt anything I'm up to if this is what you desire."

"Ms. Black? If you have finished up here? We still need those copies," Master Exterminator Avery announced, looking terribly amused.

Walburga lit incense.

Nearby, Orion was muttering weeding charms.

Once or twice a month, as a matter of rotation, family members were expected to visit the cemetery plots of their ancestors and perform maintenance and remembrance rituals.

It was a surprise to see one another, neither particularly dressed up.

It wasn't that her dress was shabby but…it was one she did potions and rougher spellcasting in. It was sturdy and had no embellishments.

The straw bonnet was similarly plain and sturdy.

On sight, he had declared her beautiful and lamented the distraction she'd make and theatrically apologized to their ancestors preemptively.

She felt her cheeks redden a bit in remembrance.

She performed a scrubbing spell to clean out moss from a grave whose name was no longer visible.

As she worked, she succumbed to curiosity. Though, she tried to sound nonchalant, she was rather blunt, "What will said wooing entail?"

Orion looked over, sleeves rolled up, a slight sheen of sweat on his brow and a smile far brighter than many she'd seen in a long while.

He was delighted to share.

Meals together. Hand-holding. Dancing. Strolling by daylight or moonlight. Attending operas or gardens or galleries. Him buying her trinkets.

It sounded surprisingly tame.

"I see."

He heard the note of disappointment and smirked. "Oh?"

"It just..doesn't sound all too different from how we usually spend our time together."

To her surprise, his eyes sparkled.

"Yes, we've had a very romantic friendship our whole lives. We may simply be more…demonstrative in our affections…public and private."

She felt very warm at hearing that despite the late autumn chill. "How demonstrative are you planning to be?"

"Well, that will need to be discussed. Won't it?" He grinned and waited.

She gasped. "You're not actually proposing amorous talk here? I'm sure there's a hex to prevent such lewdness."

He snickered softly. "There may be spells in place to prevent acts of such 'lewdness' here, but nothing about conversation."

"Orion!" She scolded.

"And even if there were, I doubt they'd intervene in either case."

"ORION!" Her voice carried and echoed off of headstones and sepulchers.

He laughed and that sound carried, too.

"We're neither strangers nor trespassers and all we say or do in this context may well ensure this-" He gestured to the plots and chambers. "-prestigious line carries on."

She was going to die of embarrassment; she wondered if her obituary would be forthright about it?

Orion was looking over a pamphlet Walburga had owled him regarding the hotel and the itinerary for the duelists. She'd even spelled notes with various ideas and desires on the pages.

It gave him a strong sense of nostalgia. Plenty of girls at Hogwarts had done similar things to magazines in the Common Room. Some of the more flirtatious ones had thrust a cover under his nose and asked for suggestions as a pretense to invite him along.

Once more, it gave a sense that his Walburga was a bit of a late bloomer in this area.

Except, she was fairly balanced in her suggestions—painstakingly fair. There were things she thought he would like and things she knew she would. Some of them could be enjoyed together or apart. This wasn't about solely fulfilling her desires.

It was seeming like she just hadn't really thought about such things until now.

She'd always had a whirlwind of responsibilities and cast iron decorum about her that romance had been largely deflected.

Perhaps, this was her way of expressing a desire to settle down? Finally looking around? Seeing who was still standing and waiting for her?

He smiled at the pamphlet. One note had the word "dancing" underlined several times.

It was also a wonderful ego boost that she was this excited about him. That she was only thinking of such things in regards to him. That she was glad to have him with her for this trip.

"Orion?" His mother asked.

"Hmm?"

"There is a matter of import that must be…confirmed or negated."

His parents took the seats before his desk.

It was unusual for them to visit him in his office.

His mother was to the point. "Will there be a Regulus? In the near future?"

His parents looked very solemn.

God, I hope so, he thought.

But he answered, "No. Not at present."

He felt a hard twinge of melancholy that was immediately swallowed up by a dark resentment at the relief that was plain on their faces.

And even while he understood their desire to avoid descendents out of wedlock…

He'd always been incredibly careful—using multiple preventative potions for both the wizard and the witch in such equations.

They didn't think he'd try and…bind Walburga to him using such means?

"You must be careful. You could be taken advantage of, dear."

So, they thought the reverse? That Walburga would ensnare him?

He scoffed at the notion.

Could it even be a snare, if it was something he desperately wanted? A future with her.

Derek's daughters, dear as they were, didn't negate his desire to dote on children of his own.

The fact that Walburga wasn't opposed to the idea…seemingly welcomed it…was currently entertaining the idea of enduring the perils of childbed twice.

It stirred a lot in him.

Two children.

Two.

He half-believed in her certainty that they would both be sons.

He'd adore them. He'd adore daughters, too, or having one of each as his own parents had.

Perhaps, Derek and Pamela were right? They were so very close.

Granted the ranking of her priorities were disorganized. He definitely wanted them to be married before they welcomed new additions, but—

"Orion…" his mother struggled to give voice to whatever it was she was concerned about.

His parents sighed, gave each other a strained look, and then his father spoke: "Orion, it isn't a prudent match."

Time slowed as shock gave way to anger.

Still, he tried to keep himself composed though his blood was loud in his ears.

"Yes," he replied tightly, "love is…inconvenient that way."

"I do not aim to hurt you, but as the head of our household I must intervene. I have long been tolerant of your various enterprises." He gestured to the office. "I have largely refrained from casting judgment in your romantic entanglements. But I fear for you now. With this. Scandal. Ruin. They lie in wait here. With her. I can't boast much divining skill, but what little I have bids me to issue a warning."

"…" Orion looked at his mother who steadily refused to meet his gaze.

"Orion," his father stated.

Their gray eyes met—steel versus steel.

"This is my house. You are my son. There are filial duties to be expected. This is power I do not exercise lightly on you."

Dread fell over Orion then.

"What would you have me do, sir?"

Arcturus's face was grave, though not without pity. "Break it off."

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