The Order of the Black Cat

by xWolfx93

During his first year at Hogwarts, Harry befriends Daphne Greengrass and encounters Jingles, a magical cat. Their revelations help Harry see the world isn't just black and white and give him what he always wanted: a family. Together, they form a secret society to better the wizarding world. The OC will be a brotherly figure to Harry. No SI. This is a longfic.

40. Allure of the Dark Arts

Chapter 40 – Allure of the Dark Arts

Harry's eyelids fluttered open, revealing a blurred world that slowly sharpened into the sterile white walls of a hospital room. His mind was still ensnared in the echoes of a horrific nightmare, one where he was helplessly bound in a graveyard, the chilling image of Rigel writhing under the torture curse replaying over and over. Rigel's screams of agony had pierced the air, haunting Harry with a feeling of utter powerlessness.

As Harry tried to move, a strange weakness enveloped him, his limbs feeling unusually heavy. He realised he was bound, not with ropes, but with some kind of magical restraint that pinned him to the hospital bed at St. Mungo's. His throat felt dry, and his voice was barely a whisper as he tried to call out.

He heard the rustling of a newspaper, and when he turned his head to the source, he saw Sirius sitting on an armchair in the corner of the room.

"Harry!" Sirius exclaimed, his voice tinged with joy. "You're awake at last!"

Sirius got up and approached the bed, his dark eyes softening as he took in Harry's bewildered state. "You've been trapped in a nightmare, lad. Your magic was bursting out all over the place. Did you know you almost burned down half the room?" He chuckled, but his laughter didn't quite reach his eyes.

Harry, still reeling from the remnants of the nightmare, felt a pang of confusion and fear. "My magic?" he rasped, his voice barely audible.

"Yes," Sirius said, his tone turning more serious. "They had to put a temporary lock on your magic. You were releasing bursts of accidental magic in your sleep. Quite dangerous, really."

That explained the odd sensation of weakness, Harry realised. His mind, however, quickly veered to another concern. "Rigel... how is Rigel?" he asked urgently, his voice laced with worry.

Sirius's expression softened. "Rigel's fine, Harry. He woke up days ago. He's just in the room next door," he reassured, placing a comforting hand on Harry's shoulder.

Harry's heart eased slightly at the news, but a torrent of emotions – anger, sadness, shock, and confusion – surged within him as he thought about the events at the graveyard. Voldemort had returned, and he and Rigel had barely escaped with their lives.

"I'll go let them know you're awake," Sirius said, standing up. "Just rest, Harry. You're safe now."

As Sirius left the room, Harry lay back on the bed, his mind a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions. The reality of Voldemort's return and the narrow escape from the graveyard weighed heavily on him, even as the relief of Rigel's safety offered a small comfort in the storm of his tumultuous thoughts.

Moments after Sirius left, the door reopened, and in stepped Rigel, supported by Daphne. Rigel, his black hair slightly dishevelled, leaned heavily on her, but his face lit up with a bright smile upon seeing Harry awake.

"About time you woke up, Harry," Rigel said, his voice carrying a playful tone. "Tracey and the others have been going crazy with worry. But our conditions were so bad, they only allowed family visits."

Harry's heart warmed at the sight of his brother, but his mind quickly turned to more pressing matters. "What happens now?" he asked, his voice tinged with concern. "With Voldemort back, I mean."

The atmosphere in the room shifted. Rigel's smile faded, and Daphne's expression turned sombre. Rigel opened his mouth to speak, but Sirius, who had followed them in, interjected. "Let's not worry about that now, Harry. You need to focus on getting better. Once you're both healed, we can discuss everything."

Harry felt a twinge of disappointment, but he understood the necessity of Sirius's words.

As the evening settled, Rigel was moved into Harry's room. The brothers lay in their respective beds, the room bathed in the soft glow of the moonlight streaming through the window. In the quiet of the night, Harry turned to Rigel.

"What's really going on, Rigel?"

Rigel sighed, a hint of frustration in his voice. "The Minister... he's covering up Voldemort's return. I don't know why. Maybe to save face, or maybe he's just an idiot. But we'll have to do something about it."

Harry frowned, his mind racing with the implications. "And the tournament?"

Rigel let out a chuckle. "They acknowledged me as the winner and put you in second place."

Harry managed a small smile. "At least that worked out. I'm happy for you, brother."

"Thanks, Harry," Rigel replied softly. "But we should rest now. We've got a lot to deal with soon."

In the following days, St. Mungo's was abuzz with activity around the brothers' room. Various potions and spells were administered, gradually restoring them to full health. School had just ended, and it was time for them to return to Black Castle.

Upon arriving at Black Castle, Harry was greeted by a letter from Tracey, explaining that she had to stay at home for the first few weeks of the holidays. Harry quickly penned a response, expressing his happiness at being back home and fully healed. He wished her a wonderful time with her family and conveyed his eagerness to see her again. Sealing the letter, he handed it to Hedwig, who took off into the sky with her usual grace, disappearing into the horizon.

~~~o~~~

The morning light filtered through the grand windows of the Black Castle dining room as the family gathered for breakfast. The table was set with an array of dishes, the scent of fresh bread and brewed tea filling the air. As they settled in, Sirius, with his usual flair, announced, "Dumbledore's already making moves, reforming the Order of the Phoenix."

Walburga Black, her regal posture unchanging, scoffed at the mention. Harry, intrigued, turned to Sirius. "The Order of the Phoenix? What's that?"

Before Sirius could respond, Walburga interjected. "A group of rebels, led by Dumbledore, with the single aim of defeating the Dark Lord," she explained with a tone of disdain.

Sirius, attempting to lighten the mood, added, "I might've put it a bit more nicely, but yes. Remus and I were part of the original Order, along with your parents, Harry." He then turned to Rigel. "And Marlene was a member too."

The atmosphere in the room shifted as Sirius continued, "Maybe once it's all set up again, you could join them. Remus and I already made up our minds about it, and we are going to join again." Sirius motioned to Remus, who just nodded in agreement.

Harry's eyes sparkled at the prospect, but Walburga was quick to counter. "Absolutely not. The risk is too great. The Black and Potter families could be wiped out!"

Sirius, his voice firm, retorted, "We're already at risk. Voldemort is after Harry, and Rigel will undoubtedly protect his brother."

Rigel, sensing the rising tension, smoothly intervened. "This isn't the time for such discussions. We'll face Voldemort, one way or another. As Dad said, he's coming for us, regardless."

As the clatter of cutlery and plates began to subside, Walburga stood up, her chair scraping against the floor. "I must see to some matters," she announced, her voice carrying the unmistakable tone of authority. With a swift, elegant motion, she turned and exited the room, her robes swishing behind her, leaving an unspoken command for silence in her wake.

The room felt noticeably lighter once she was gone. Sirius leaned back in his chair, a thoughtful look crossing his features. "She's in a peculiar state, isn't she? Last war, she was all for Voldemort. Now, with her beliefs still firmly intact, she's forced to side against him. It's a tough pill to swallow. Best we try to ignore her irritation, difficult as it may be."

Harry nodded, understanding the complexity of the situation. The conversation gradually drifted to more mundane topics. Sirius, with a glint of mischief in his eyes, leaned towards Harry. "So, Harry, when's your better half planning to grace us with her presence?" he teased.

Harry felt his cheeks warm up. "We... uh, haven't set a date yet," he mumbled, avoiding Sirius's amused gaze.

At the other end of the table, Rigel pushed his plate away, his expression more serious than usual. Daphne glanced at him, a silent understanding passing between them. "We're going to do some research in the library," Rigel announced, his voice lacking its usual warmth.

As they stood up, Daphne offered him a subtle, supportive touch on his arm. They left the dining room together, their departure marked by a sense of purpose.

Harry watched them go, a sense of concern creeping into his thoughts. Rigel's demeanour had shifted since the incident at the graveyard. The lightness that once surrounded him seemed dimmed, replaced by a sombre, reflective air. It had only been a week, but the change was palpable. Harry couldn't help but feel that his brother was grappling with something more profound, a burden that went beyond the physical injuries they had both sustained.

Sirius, his eyes lingering on the doorway through which Rigel and Daphne had just exited, seemed lost in thought. He turned to Harry, his expression tinged with a sadness that was rare for the normally buoyant man. "Harry, you know Rigel better than me," he began, his voice softer than usual. "What do you think's going on with him?"

Harry let out a heavy sigh, the weight of the situation pressing down on him. "I'm not really sure, Sirius," he admitted. "But I think... it might be because he lost his duel against Lucius Malfoy. And the Cruciatus Curse... he hasn't been the same since."

A flicker of surprise crossed Sirius's face, quickly replaced by a deeper sadness. "That could be it," he mused. "Rigel's always taken pride in his magical abilities and duelling skills. But Malfoy is one of the strongest Death Eaters, so Rigel shouldn't blame himself. And the Cruciatus Curse... it can change a person."

Harry noticed a hint of something unspoken in Sirius's tone, a deeper layer of meaning he wasn't sharing. A quick glance towards Remus confirmed his suspicion; the same reflective sadness mirrored in his eyes. Harry had never been one to pry into others' secrets. He was confident that, in time, he would learn what remained unsaid.

Sirius's voice brought him back to the present. "Could you check on him, Harry? I think Rigel might need his little brother right now."

Nodding in agreement, Harry finished his breakfast quietly. He then stood up, feeling the responsibility settle upon his shoulders, and made his way to the Castle Library. The ancient door creaked open, revealing the vast room filled with towering shelves of books.

Harry entered the library to find Rigel and Daphne engrossed in a large, ancient-looking tome. They sat close together in a single armchair, a visual testament to their close bond. Daphne's head rested lightly against Rigel's shoulder, and they both held cups of tea, creating an atmosphere of intimate study.

"Hey," Harry greeted, trying to sound casual. "What are you two researching? Mind if I join?"

Rigel and Daphne exchanged a quick, almost imperceptible glance before Rigel responded. "We're looking into the Dark Arts, specifically the Unforgivable Curses."

Harry's face fell, a pit forming in his stomach at the answer. "Are you... studying how to counter them? Protect against them?" he asked, a hint of hope in his voice.

Daphne shook her head gently, her expression serious. "No, Harry. We're studying how to use them."

A surge of anger and fear washed over Harry. "Why? Why would you do that?"

Rigel set his tea down and leaned forward, his voice firm. "I've seen the power of these curses firsthand. They're too potent, too advantageous to ignore. War is coming, Harry, and I intend to be on the winning side."

Harry's voice rose slightly, driven by his growing concern. "But we should focus on other aspects of duelling magic! Our special abilities—your illusions, my fire affinity—they can give us an edge. We can beat anyone with those, even Malfoy."

Rigel sighed, a hint of frustration in his tone. "Of course, we'll continue training those. But having the Unforgivables as tools could be crucial. I think you should consider learning them too, Harry."

"No," Harry said firmly, his voice laced with concern. "I don't want to dabble in the Dark Arts, especially not the Unforgivables. What if we lose ourselves? Become like them—the Death Eaters, Voldemort." He spat the name with disdain.

Rigel closed the book with care and gently disentangled himself from Daphne. Standing up, he towered over Harry by a few inches. There was a steely determination in his eyes as he met Harry's gaze.

"Learning these spells won't change who I am, Harry. But be careful," Rigel warned, his voice low. "What you're saying sounds a lot like something Dumbledore would say. Don't let his ideals make you lose sight of what's necessary."

Harry was momentarily stunned. There was a painful truth to Rigel's words, but he remained resolute. "I won't learn them, Rigel. I can't." His voice was a mixture of determination and pleading, hoping to reach the brother he knew and cared for.

Daphne, her voice measured and calm, added to the conversation. "We're all in this fight together. Unlike you and Rigel, the rest of us don't have any special abilities. Knowing these curses could give us the edge in a critical situation. Think about Tracey—what if one of these curses could save her life?"

Harry could hear the reason in Daphne's voice, but it did nothing to alleviate the turmoil inside him. He shook his head, feeling overwhelmed. This was all becoming too much to process.

Rigel's demeanour softened as he placed a reassuring hand on Harry's shoulder. "I'm sorry if I sounded harsh, Harry," he said, a hint of regret in his voice. "That wasn't my intention."

But Harry instinctively pulled away, his emotions a tangled mess. He felt a sense of betrayal, yet he couldn't deny the logic in their arguments. The entire situation was just too much to bear. In that moment, he realised how much he needed Tracey, her presence, her perspective.

"I need to clear my head," Harry muttered. "I think I'll see if I can visit Tracey."

Daphne nodded understandingly. "Maybe that's for the best," she agreed, her tone apologetic. "We didn't mean to upset you, Harry."

"I know," Harry replied, his voice low. "It's just a lot to take in. I'll talk to Sirius about visiting her."

As Harry turned to leave, Rigel spoke up. "Harry, please, keep this between us, especially from Dad. He's... influenced by Dumbledore's views. He wouldn't understand."

Harry could only manage a weak nod in response, his mind still reeling. Rigel and Daphne resettled into their armchair, reopening the tome and resuming their study.

Leaving the library, Harry felt the weight of the conversation heavy on his shoulders. The conflicting emotions churned within him, leaving him uncertain and troubled. All he knew for certain was that he needed Tracey. She always seemed to have a way of making sense of things, of calming the storm inside him. With each step towards Sirius, his resolve to see her strengthened. She would know what to do.

Harry entered the sitting room to find Sirius and Remus deep in conversation. As he approached, Sirius turned to him, his expression shifting to one of concern. "How did it go with Rigel?" he asked.

Trying to sound nonchalant, Harry replied, "He seemed fine. I think he just needs some time to get back to his old self." He hoped Sirius wouldn't probe further, not feeling ready to delve into the complexities of his conversation with Rigel and Daphne.

Noting the somewhat sad look in Sirius's eyes, Harry quickly changed the subject. "Can I go visit Tracey? I haven't seen her since the third task, and she's staying at home for a bit before coming to the Castle for the summer."

Sirius chuckled, the tension in the room easing slightly. "Of course, go ahead. But Harry," his tone became serious, "don't take her out, especially not to places like Diagon Alley. With Voldemort back, you're in danger. We need to be cautious, especially with the Ministry's current stance."

Harry nodded grimly, understanding the gravity of the situation. He made his way purposefully to the fireplace, with the intention to Floo call Tracey at the Davis Estate, hoping to gauge if it was a good time to visit. He scooped up a handful of Floo powder and tossed it into the flames, which leapt up and turned a bright emerald green. "Davis Estate," he announced clearly, his voice carrying through the magical flames.

There was a brief pause, the flames crackling and swirling, before Tracey's face materialised in the fireplace. At first, she appeared polite and composed, as if answering an unexpected call. But as soon as she recognized it was Harry, her demeanour transformed dramatically. "Harry!" she exclaimed, her face lighting up with sheer joy. Her voice was a mix of surprise and delight, much like answering a phone call to find a loved one on the other end. "Oh my gosh, Harry, what a wonderful surprise! How are you? When are you coming over?"

Harry, smiling at her enthusiastic response, quickly replied, "I was hoping to come over today, spend some time together. Is that alright?"

Tracey's excitement seemed to double. "Yes, yes, of course! Wait a moment." She disappeared from the flames for a moment, presumably to relay the message to her parents, then reappeared, her smile even wider. "Mum says it's fine. Come through now!"

Turning to Sirius and Remus, who were observing the exchange with amused expressions, Harry said, "Tracey said it's fine, so I'm heading over. I'll see you later." His tone was light but filled with anticipation for the day ahead.

Sirius gave him an approving nod, and Remus offered a smile. "Have a good time, Harry," Remus said warmly.

Harry stepped into the green flames, feeling a familiar whoosh as the Floo network whisked him away to the Davis Estate, his heart buoyant with the prospect of spending the day with Tracey.

Emerging on the other side, Harry was immediately enveloped in a tight hug from Tracey. Her mother stood nearby, a warm smile on her face as she greeted him.

"Hello, Harry. It's lovely to see you again," she said, her voice friendly and welcoming. The tension and worry that had built up inside Harry began to melt away in the warmth of their reception.

Harry greeted Mrs. Davis with a polite nod. "Hello, Mrs. Davis."

"Oh, please, call me Eleanor," she insisted with a warm smile. "Any boyfriend of Tracey's has certainly earned that right." Her tone then softened as she added, "I do apologise for being a bit selfish, wanting to keep Tracey here for a part of the summer before she dashes off to Black Castle again."

Harry quickly reassured her. "It's not selfish at all. I completely understand. And thank you for having me over today. I needed a bit of a break, to clear my head."

Eleanor studied him for a moment, her eyes insightful. "Had a bit of a quarrel with your brother, did you?" she asked gently.

Harry was taken aback. "How did you know?"

Eleanor laughed softly. "I have older siblings too. I recognise the signs. Don't worry, Harry. Quarrels between siblings are quite normal, and they usually blow over quickly."

Harry wasn't sure if 'quarrel' was the right word for what happened with Rigel, but he appreciated Eleanor's perspective nonetheless.

"I've got a few things to take care of before Allen gets back," Eleanor said, referring to her husband. "You two have fun, alright?"

As she was about to leave the room, she paused and turned back, a mischievous twinkle in her eye. "And remember, Tracey, don't do anything too unbecoming," she teased, causing Tracey to giggle and Harry to blush slightly. With a final smile, Eleanor left the room, leaving Harry and Tracey alone.

Tracey's response was immediate and affectionate, pulling Harry into a deep snog. Once they parted, Harry said, "We need to talk." Tracey nodded and led him to her room, a place adorned with personal touches that made it uniquely hers.

Once inside, Tracey called for Tippy, her family's house-elf, to bring them some hot chocolate. At Harry's curious glance, she smiled. "I love chocolate, and it looks like you could use some too."

They settled comfortably on her bed, the mugs of hot chocolate warming their hands as Tippy reappeared and served them. Harry took a deep breath, then began recounting his encounter with Rigel and Daphne, expressing his fear of them changing.

Tracey listened intently, her hand patting his gently in a comforting manner. Once he finished, she spoke, her voice full of empathy. "It's understandable how you feel, Harry. You're full of concern for your family, and that's a great thing."

She paused, her expression turning serious. "But they aren't entirely wrong. What you might not realise is how bad the situation really is." Harry looked at her questioningly, prompting Tracey to continue with a sigh. "Almost no one believes Voldemort is back. They're buying into Fudge's story about a mere resurgence of Death Eaters that will be quickly dealt with. Nobody wants another war, so they're all burying their heads in the sand. Even my parents... they didn't believe Daphne's letter."

"Letter?" Harry asked, puzzled.

"After the third task, when you, Rigel, and Daphne were in St. Mungo's, Daphne sent letters explaining what happened in the graveyard, and how critical your conditions were." Tracey's voice wavered, tears welling up in her eyes.

Harry moved closer, soothing her. "I'm okay now, Tracey."

Tracey's demeanour changed, the tears were replaced by something else. "My mum called Daphne a liar," she said, her voice tinged with anger and frustration. "She said there's no way the Ministry could be wrong about something so important. She accused Daphne of seeking attention or being delusional because she's going to be Lady Black."

"That's horrible," Harry replied, his voice filled with genuine sympathy for Daphne. The injustice of the accusation struck a chord in him.

"And that's the real reason my mum doesn't want me spending the whole summer at Black Castle. She's afraid of Daphne's influence on me."

Harry's mind raced as he processed Tracey's revelation. The disbelief of her parents, the fear and suspicion towards Daphne – it all highlighted just how perilous their situation was. If even Tracey's own parents refused to believe the truth about Voldemort's return, how many others were also blinded by the Ministry's misinformation? The realisation hit him like a cold wave – they were facing not only a resurgent dark force but also widespread denial and ignorance.

He interrupted his thoughts to ask Tracey about her stance on learning the Unforgivable Curses. "What about you? What will you do about the Unforgivable Curses?"

Her response, though thoughtful, carried a weight of resolve. "I think... I'd like to learn them. Like Daphne said, I don't have any special powers. And what if one of these curses could help me save you, or someone else?"

Harry felt a heavy burden settle on his shoulders, a sense of foreboding for what lay ahead. Tracey's willingness to delve into such dark magic, driven by the necessity to protect and survive, underscored the seriousness of their predicament. The choices they were being forced to make, the paths they were walking – it was a stark reminder of the grim reality they faced in a world where Voldemort's shadow loomed large.

The moment was a turning point for Harry, a realisation that the war against Voldemort was not just about battles and duels, but also about fighting a tide of disbelief and misinformation. It was a fight on multiple fronts, and the road ahead was fraught with tough decisions and potentially dangerous compromises.

Tracey, sensing Harry's need for a distraction, quickly suggested, "How about we go for a swim in the pool?"

Harry hesitated. "I didn't bring any swimwear with me."

Tracey's response was a playful giggle. "You could always skinny dip. It's not like I haven't seen you naked before."

Harry's face turned a deep shade of red. "What about your mum? I doubt she'd appreciate that."

Her giggles grew. "Oh, Harry, you're no fun!" she teased. "Kreacher can bring you some swimwear."

Nodding at Tracey's suggestion, Harry cleared his throat and called out, "Kreacher!"

In a small pop, the house-elf appeared, looking up at Harry with attentive eyes. "Yes, Master Harry?" Kreacher's voice was gruff yet respectful.

"Could you bring me a pair of swimming trunks, please?" Harry asked, trying to sound as casual as possible given the awkwardness of the situation.

"Of course, Master Harry," Kreacher replied with a slight bow. He disappeared with another pop, only to return moments later with a pair of swimming trunks in hand.

"Here you are, sir," Kreacher said, presenting the trunks to Harry.

"Thank you, Kreacher," Harry said, taking them with a grateful nod. "That was very quick."

Kreacher gave a small nod in return. "Kreacher is always happy to serve," he said before disappearing with another quiet pop.

As Tracey began to change, Harry's blush deepened. "Um, I appreciate the view," he stammered, "but maybe I should go change in the guest room. If your mum walks in..."

Tracey pouted playfully. "You really are no fun, Harry."

"I'll meet you at the pool," Harry said with a smile, retreating to the guest room to change. He couldn't help but feel a sense of light-hearted relief wash over him as he prepared for a simple, joyful afternoon with Tracey, away from the complexities and worries that had been consuming him.

After changing into the swimming trunks, Harry made his way downstairs to the swimming pool, his mind wandering back in time. He remembered his first time here, right after Daphne and Rigel had rescued him from the Dursleys following the incident with Dobby. The estate had been a sanctuary that summer, a place of safety and warmth away from the harsh realities of his life with the Dursleys.

Lost in these thoughts, Harry didn't notice Tracey sneaking up behind him. With a mischievous giggle, she gave him a gentle push, sending him tumbling into the pool. The surprise sent a splash of cool water around him, and as he surfaced, he heard Tracey's laughter ringing through the air, sweet and joyful.

Regaining his composure, Harry playfully splashed water towards Tracey, who was still laughing at the edge of the pool. She tried to dodge the splashes, but Harry was quick to act. He reached out, grabbing her hand, and with a light tug, pulled her into the pool with him.

Tracey surfaced, spluttering and laughing, and soon they were both engaged in a playful water fight, splashing each other, their laughter echoing around the pool area.

The playful battle soon turned into a tender moment as they moved closer to each other. Their eyes locked, and they shared a passionate snog, their previous laughter fading into a blissful silence. For Harry, in that moment, all the worries and uncertainties of the world seemed to dissolve away.

~~~o~~~

Rigel and Daphne remained in the library, deeply absorbed in their study of the Unforgivable Curses. They were still seated together in the same armchair, a picture of comfort and intimacy. Daphne was on Rigel's lap, nestled against him in a way that spoke volumes of their closeness.

After some time, Rigel gently tapped Daphne, signalling his desire to stand. They carefully disentangled from each other, and Daphne looked up at him with inquiring eyes. "What are you planning to do?" she asked.

Rigel gave her a small, affectionate smile. "Why ask when you can just read my thoughts? Our bond is meant to strengthen, after all. And I have no secrets from you."

Daphne nodded and closed her eyes, focusing on their bond. Through it, she could sense his thoughts and feelings. She saw his need to do something practical, a way to channel the frustration and humiliation he felt after the events at the graveyard. Most prominently, she perceived his newly set goal for the summer—to best his father in a duel.

Opening her eyes, Daphne nodded. "I understand," she said softly.

Rigel's expression hardened slightly with determination. "I'm going to ask Dad to train me over the summer. Properly, with no holding back. If I'm to become a truly powerful wizard, the first step is to best him."

Daphne rose to her feet, stepping close to Rigel. She went up on her toes and planted a tender kiss on his lips. "Good luck," she whispered. "I have something to take care of as well." She paused, a playful glint in her eye. "If you're curious, you can always read my thoughts."

Rigel returned her smile, a lightness in his voice. "I think I'd rather be surprised this time."

With a final shared look, they parted ways. Rigel left the library to seek out his father somewhere in the vastness of the castle, each step filled with a newfound purpose and resolve.

Rigel made his way to the sitting room, where he found Sirius and Remus deeply engrossed in a discussion. Their expressions were serious, suggesting the importance of their conversation. However, upon noticing Rigel, they paused and greeted him with warm smiles.

"Dad," Rigel began, his tone earnest, "I need you to train me. For real this time, with no holding back. I need to get stronger so that what happened in the graveyard never happens again."

Sirius, his expression turning sombre, replied, "Rigel, I can't train you to be stronger than Voldemort."

"That's not the point," Rigel quickly retorted, his voice raised slightly with emotion. Sirius's expression shifted, realising this was about Rigel's loss to Lucius Malfoy.

Sirius hesitated, the gravity of Rigel's request clearly visible in his eyes. The lines of concern etched on his face spoke volumes about the internal struggle he was experiencing. It wasn't just about training; it was about the looming shadow of war and what it demanded of them all.

But Rigel was resolute, his voice firm and unwavering as he pressed on. "A war is coming, Dad. It's not just about me. I have to be strong enough to protect Harry and Daphne too. They mean everything to me, and I can't... I won't let them down. I need to be as prepared as I possibly can."

The mention of Harry and Daphne seemed to resonate with Sirius, who understood all too well the burden of protecting loved ones in times of danger. The determination in Rigel's eyes, mirroring his own from years past, seemed to break through Sirius's hesitation.

Sirius glanced at Remus, who gave a slow, understanding nod. Finally, with a sigh, Sirius agreed. "Alright. These two old-timers," he said, gesturing to himself and Remus, "will teach you. We'll make sure you're prepared. For Harry, for Daphne, and for whatever this war throws at us."

Rigel's face brightened. "That's exactly what I need. By the end of the summer, I plan to be stronger than both of you."

His declaration was met with laughter from Sirius and Remus, but the glint in Rigel's eyes showed he was serious.

Together, the three of them headed to the training room. Remus, his tone serious, warned, "We won't be holding back, Rigel. You're going to suffer injuries, feel pain."

Rigel scoffed confidently. "After the Cruciatus Curse, there's no pain that scares me."

And with that, the first training session between them began. True to their word, Sirius and Remus did not hold back, pushing Rigel to his limits, challenging him in ways he had never been challenged before. It was gruelling, intense, and exactly what Rigel needed to prepare for the battles that lay ahead.

Exhausted from the relentless training, Rigel trudged back to the room he shared with Daphne. His body felt like it had been through a gauntlet; every muscle ached, every movement was a testament to the day's gruelling session. With what little energy he had left, Rigel managed to make his way to their bed and literally dropped onto it, too tired to even take off his shoes.

Daphne, who had been waiting for him, looked on with a mix of concern and anticipation. "Rigel," she began gently, "can I try something I've been working on?" Seeing him so worn out, she felt a strong urge to help.

Rigel, too exhausted to speak, simply nodded, trusting her completely.

Daphne pointed her wand at him and softly uttered, "Episkey Relaxis." A warm, gentle light emerged from her wand, enveloping Rigel in its soothing glow. Almost instantly, Rigel felt the pain in his muscles begin to ease, the tension melting away as if washed by a wave of comfort and relaxation.

"That was brilliant," Rigel murmured, a sense of relief washing over him. "What did you do?"

Daphne, with a hint of pride in her voice, explained, "I've been working on my own version of the Episkey spell. Remember I told you I wanted to get into spell creation? Well, modifying an existing spell seemed like the right place to start."

Impressed and touched by her thoughtfulness, Rigel pulled her close and gave her a loving kiss. "You're going to be the most famous spell creator in the whole wizarding world," he said with a smile.

Daphne's face lit up with a smile, a glint of joy and ambition in her eyes. This was just the beginning of her journey into the depths of spell creation, and having Rigel's support and belief in her abilities meant everything.

~~~o~~~

As dinner time approached, Harry realised he had spent the entire day at the Davis Estate. He turned to Tracey, feeling a bit self-conscious. "I think I should probably head back home. I don't want to impose for dinner."

Tracey's face immediately fell into a pout, but before she could voice her protest, Eleanor peeked through the open door of Tracey's room. "Dinner's just been served, Harry. We planned on having you stay, of course."

"Thank you, Eleanor," Harry replied gratefully, feeling relieved and welcomed. Tracey's face instantly brightened at her mother's words.

Together, they made their way to the dining room where Allen, Tracey's father, was already seated. He greeted Harry with a warm smile. "It's far too rare that you come to visit us, Harry. Tracey is always off to Black Castle; seems like she prefers castles, always at Hogwarts or Black Castle."

Eleanor laughed at her husband's comment, while Tracey pouted, making Harry smile. He found her pouting expression particularly endearing.

They enjoyed a pleasant dinner together, filled with light conversation and laughter. As the meal came to an end, Harry prepared to leave, but Eleanor interjected. "Why don't you stay the night, Harry? We have plenty of guest rooms."

Tracey's excitement was palpable, her face lighting up at her mother's suggestion. Allen looked a bit apprehensive at the idea, but a quick, firm glance from Eleanor silenced any objections he might have had.

"I'd love to," Harry said, "but I should ask Sirius first."

"You can use our Floo, Harry," Eleanor offered kindly.

Harry stepped over to the fireplace and called Sirius through the Floo Network. When he asked about staying over, Sirius's voice came through with a chuckle. "I would've been more surprised if you didn't ask. Of course, you can stay, Harry."

As soon as the call ended, Kreacher appeared, handing Harry a bag containing a fresh set of clothes and his toiletries. Harry thanked Kreacher, who disappeared with a bow.

Tracey then wrapped her arms around Harry in a close hug, planting a kiss on his lips. Harry, while enjoying the affection, felt a twinge of anxiety about displaying such intimacy in front of her father. Eleanor had been quite accommodating, but Allen seemed less enthusiastic about having his daughter's boyfriend over. Harry tried to be as respectful as possible, conscious of Allen's presence in the room.

~~~o~~~

Harry had settled into the guest room, making himself comfortable and ready for sleep. The room was cosy, a testament to the Davises' warm hospitality. As he lay there, the events of the day played through his mind, bringing a sense of contentment.

However, later in the night, Harry's light sleep was disturbed by the soft opening of his door. Instinctively, he reached for his glasses, putting them on to see more clearly in the dim light. His heart skipped a beat as he saw Tracey quietly entering the room, clad only in her panties and tank top. She closed the door behind her with a gentle click.

"Sorry for waking you," Tracey whispered, her voice barely audible. "I just... I wanted to be close to you tonight."

Harry's affection for Tracey was undeniable, and her presence was always something he cherished. Yet, the thought of her parents discovering them together in the same bed made him anxious. However, as he looked into her eyes, he saw a deep need, a desire that resonated with his own feelings.

Without a word, Tracey joined Harry in the bed. The space between them vanished quickly as they shed their remaining clothes - her tank top and panties, and his boxer shorts. What followed was a night of passion, a physical expression of their deep connection.

Throughout the night, Harry couldn't shake off the anxious thought of being discovered by her parents. The risk of such an encounter made his heart race, but in the heat of the moment, his hormones overpowered reason. As they lost themselves in each other, the outside world faded away, leaving only the intensity of their shared affection.

The next morning, Harry awoke to the soft light of dawn filtering through the curtains, with Tracey still asleep, naked in his arms. While the intimacy of their closeness was something he cherished deeply, his mind was clouded with thoughts of her parents potentially walking in on them in such a state.

Knowing how much Tracey disliked waking up early, Harry still felt the urgency of the situation. He gently nudged her awake. "Tracey," he whispered softly.

"Mmm, five more minutes," she mumbled, her voice groggy with sleep.

Harry, however, was insistent. "Tracey, we need to get up. We fell asleep after having sex last night. I really don't want your dad to find us like this."

Reluctantly, Tracey opened her eyes and sat up, her displeasure at the early awakening evident. She stretched, picked up her panties and tank top, and slipped them on with a sleepy grumble. "You owe me for this early wake-up," she said, her voice still thick with sleep.

Harry couldn't help but smile a little. "Well, it was your idea to come here. If I had gone to your room, I could've just slipped out quietly," he teased gently.

Tracey shot him a playful pout and then cautiously approached the door. She peeked outside, scanning the hallway for any sign of her parents. Satisfied that it was safe, she turned back to Harry. "Coast is clear. I'll see you at breakfast," she said, giving him a quick, tender kiss before slipping out of the room.

At breakfast, Harry couldn't help but notice Eleanor giving him and Tracey a certain look. It was unsettling, almost as if she knew about their intimate night. He tried to brush off the feeling, focusing instead on his breakfast.

Eleanor, breaking the silence, asked, "So, how do you two plan to spend the day?"

Tracey, her spirits lifting, replied eagerly, "I really want to go to Diagon Alley. I'm running low on some supplies, and I'd love to do some clothes shopping. Especially now that Harry and I are together."

Harry, feeling a tug of conflict inside, was about to express his reservations. He remembered Sirius's strict instructions about avoiding public places like Diagon Alley. As much as he wanted to spend time with Tracey and enjoy a day out, he knew the risks were too great. He opened his mouth, reluctantly preparing to explain why they couldn't go, despite his own desire to say yes.

However, before he could articulate his thoughts, Allen, Tracey's father, quickly interjected with a firm tone. "No, it's too dangerous for you two to be out in public alone," he said decisively. His words echoed Harry's own concerns, reinforcing the gravity of the situation and the need for caution in these perilous times.

Eleanor, however, seemed to think differently. "Allen, you're overreacting. Death Eaters aren't going to be targeting teenagers in Diagon Alley."

Allen's voice raised in frustration. "They might not be looking for any teenagers, but they're surely looking for Harry Potter and his girlfriend!"

Eleanor let out a sigh, trying to maintain a calm atmosphere. "Let's not argue about this in front of Harry and Tracey," she said, then suggested, "Perhaps you two could focus on schoolwork for now, while Allen and I talk this out."

Harry and Tracey nodded, quickly retreating to Tracey's room. They decided to follow Eleanor's suggestion and go over schoolwork.

Once in the room, Harry mentioned, "Sirius had similar concerns about me going out in public."

Tracey, her annoyance evident, responded, "My parents are blowing things way out of proportion."

Harry, however, voiced his concern. "I don't want to put you in any danger, Tracey. Your father is right – the Death Eaters are after me."

Tracey pouted, her tone defiant. "I'm not some damsel in distress, Harry. I can protect myself. And if the Death Eaters come for you, I'll be right there, fighting alongside you to protect you." Her determination was clear, echoing the resolve they both shared in facing whatever dangers might come their way.

Not long after they started their schoolwork, Tracey's attention began to wane. She suddenly perked up with a new idea. "Let's continue our Animagus training," she suggested excitedly. "I can't wait to find out what my form is. And Harry, if you manage to transform with your clothes, just imagine how envious Daphne and Rigel will be!"

Harry agreed, amused by her competitive spirit. Tracey settled into a meditative posture, focusing on her inner animal, while Harry concentrated on transforming individual body parts, paying special attention to his clothes.

After several attempts, Harry felt ready for a full transformation. "I'm going to try the full thing now," he announced.

Tracey looked on with anticipation, cheering him on. "You can do it, Harry!"

With intense concentration, Harry began the transformation, slowly morphing into his White Hawk form. He focused particularly on his feathers, trying to incorporate his clothes into the transformation. However, when he completed the transformation, he realised his pants were left behind – his hyperfocus on the feathers neglected the fact that hawk legs don't have feathers.

Tracey clapped her hands in excitement. "You did great, Harry!" she exclaimed, then playfully picked up his pants, adding with a wiggle of her eyebrow, "And it seems I have a nice view to look forward to when you change back."

Just then, the door swung open, revealing Eleanor. She paused, taking in the sight of her daughter standing in front of a white hawk, holding a pair of pants.

"Uh, hi, Mum," Tracey stammered, her face turning red.

Eleanor burst out laughing. "What on earth are you two doing?" she asked between chuckles.

"We're practising our Animagus transformations," Tracey explained quickly. "Harry's still figuring out how to keep all his clothes on."

"I can see that," Eleanor said, her eyes twinkling with amusement. She then relayed the outcome of her conversation with Allen. "We've decided it's best you don't go out alone for now. Maybe we can all go out together tomorrow."

Tracey sighed but nodded in agreement. "Alright, Mum."

As Eleanor slowly closed the door, she flashed them a mischievous smile. "Have fun, you two."

Once she was gone, Harry transformed back into his human form. His upper body clothes transformed back perfectly, but his lower body was left exposed. "Could I have my pants back, please?" he asked, slightly embarrassed.

Tracey, however, held the pants just out of reach, a playful glint in her eye. "I quite like this view," she teased, enjoying the moment.

Harry, determined to retrieve his pants, made a playful lunge towards Tracey, but she deftly dodged him, keeping the pants just out of his reach. They engaged in a light-hearted tussle, with Tracey skilfully evading Harry's attempts to grab his clothing.

However, in the midst of their playful skirmish, Tracey slipped and landed on her bed, with Harry quickly following and ending up on top of her. For a moment, Harry was tempted to let the situation escalate, drawn by the closeness and their playful mood. But the thought of her parents being nearby made him reconsider. With a slight sigh, he decided to simply take back his pants and end their little game.

After he had his pants back on, they refocused on their Animagus exercises. The atmosphere in the room was still light and cheerful, filled with the energy of their recent playfulness.

Suddenly, Tracey jumped up in excitement, a look of pure joy on her face. "I did it! I found my form!" she exclaimed.

Harry's eyes widened in interest. "Really? What is it?"

"It's an otter!" Tracey said, her voice bubbling with happiness.

"That's great!" Harry replied, smiling at her enthusiasm. "I can already picture you as a cute little otter. It suits your mischievous nature."

Tracey responded with a playful stick of her tongue and a mock glare, but her eyes were shining with happiness. They continued their training, each of them now more motivated by Tracey's breakthrough and the fun they were having together.

~~~o~~~

After breakfast, Sirius beckoned Rigel aside for a private conversation. There was a certain seriousness in his demeanour that piqued Rigel's interest.

"Rigel, the Order needs a place to hold its meetings," Sirius began, getting straight to the point. "We have so many empty properties; I thought perhaps we could offer one. I had Grimmauld Place Number 12 in mind."

Rigel responded with a smile, "Of course, Dad. Those properties are just collecting dust anyway. Tell Dumbledore he can use it for the Order. And if there's anything else I can do to help, they just have to ask."

Sirius, visibly relieved and grateful, pulled his son into a tight hug. "Thank you, Rigel. Your support means a lot."

Inwardly, Rigel was indifferent about the Order being led by Dumbledore, but he saw no benefit in denying them the property. It was a strategic move, one that kept him involved without direct commitment. He made a mental note to inform Daphne about this development later.

As they broke from the hug, Sirius said, "I'll go inform Dumbledore right away."

"I'll be in the library with Daphne, studying," Rigel replied, his tone casual.

Sirius chuckled, a twinkle in his eye. "You and Daphne sure 'study' a lot," he said, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.

Rigel couldn't help but smirk. "Well, we haven't done it in the library... yet," he quipped, earning a hearty laugh from Sirius.

With a final nod to each other, they went their separate ways – Sirius to contact Dumbledore, and Rigel to join Daphne in the library, each with their own thoughts about the upcoming challenges and the role they were to play.

~~~o~~~

Two days had passed since Harry left Black Castle, and Rigel and Daphne continued their cycle of intense study and training back at the castle. Rigel was feeling the effects of his gruelling training sessions with Remus and Sirius; he was growing significantly stronger. Meanwhile, Daphne was making strides in spell creation, refining Episkey Relaxis into an increasingly effective spell for relaxing sore muscles.

Their studies of the Unforgivable Curses had also progressed. Today, they decided to put their learning to the test. In their room, they stood together, ready to begin.

Rigel conjured a snake using the Serpensortia spell. "Let's start with the Imperius Curse," he suggested. "Ladies first."

Daphne stepped forward, pointing her wand at the snake. Concentrating deeply, she uttered, "Imperio." The snake immediately came under her control, slithering and coiling at her command with apparent ease.

"You're doing very well," Rigel complimented. "The Imperius Curse is the only one we could try on each other, as it should be harder to cast on humans." Daphne nodded in agreement, pleased with her success.

Rigel then took his turn, casting Imperio on the snake and controlling it as effortlessly as Daphne had.

The next step was the Cruciatus Curse. Daphne suggested Rigel should go first with this one. He nodded, a serious expression on his face. He pointed his wand at the snake and, channelling his anger, shouted, "Crucio!"

The snake writhed in pain, hissing and contorting. As a Parselmouth, Rigel could hear its screams, the sound echoing in his mind. He continued the curse, lost in the overwhelming sensation of power and control. It felt intoxicating, empowering.

Daphne, noticing the intensity in Rigel's eyes, tugged at his wand arm, breaking his focus. "What did you feel when you used the curse?" she asked, concern in her voice.

Rigel, coming back to himself, admitted, "It felt great, powerful. I revelled in it, the feeling of causing pain."

Daphne's expression grew serious. "That's exactly what Harry was afraid of. You're losing yourself. These curses are powerful, but we can't let the power consume us."

Rigel looked at her, his expression softening. "You're right," he said, pulling her into a tight hug. "There's more to these curses than just casting them. We need to learn to control our emotions, to not let them control us." He realised then the danger of the path they were treading and the importance of keeping a clear head amidst the allure of such dark power.

Daphne took her turn with the Cruciatus Curse. Focusing intently, she pointed her wand at the already suffering snake and cast the spell, "Crucio!" The snake writhed in even more agony under her spell. But unlike Rigel, she stopped after just a short while, visibly making an effort to keep her emotions in check.

She turned towards Rigel, her eyes filled with a complex mixture of feelings. Embracing him, she kissed him deeply and whispered, "I love you." Through their bond, Rigel could feel waves of euphoria emanating from her; she too was affected by the powerful sensations the curse evoked. But she was channelling these intense emotions towards him, her eyes revealing a certain need.

Rigel responded to her kiss, holding her close and squeezing her gently, reciprocating the intensity of her emotions.

Pulling back slightly, he said, "Before we go any further, we should try the Killing Curse."

Daphne, her gaze still locked with Rigel's, nodded slowly. They had been studying this for a reason.

Raising her wand at the snake, she uttered, "Avada Kedavra." However, nothing happened. The curse didn't manifest.

Rigel suggested, "Maybe you don't have enough magical power for it. Try borrowing from me what you need."

Daphne closed her eyes, focusing on their bond. Rigel felt a pull on his magic, a part of it flowing towards her. Opening her eyes, she raised her wand again and said, "Avada Kedavra." This time, a sickly green beam of light erupted from her wand, striking the snake and instantly killing it.

The effort left Daphne panting, her magical reserves spent. Rigel quickly wrapped his arms around her, offering support as she caught her breath. "You did great," he told her, his voice filled with pride and concern.

Daphne, still panting, could only nod in response, leaning into Rigel's embrace. The depth of their bond was clear, both in the way they supported each other and in the way they shared their magical strengths and vulnerabilities.

Rigel, his focus unwavering, vanished the remains of the dead snake and conjured a new one. He raised his wand, his eyes locked on the target. "Avada Kedavra," he intoned, and a sickly green beam shot from his wand, striking the snake and ending its life instantly.

The magical exertion was intense; Rigel felt his energy reserves depleting rapidly. The combination of lending some of his magic to Daphne and casting the Killing Curse himself had drained him almost completely.

Turning to Daphne, Rigel drew her into a deep, passionate kiss. "Our studies have really paid off," he said, his voice low and filled with a mixture of exhaustion and satisfaction.

Daphne, her eyes conveying a mix of emotions, stammered, "I need you... right now, Rigel."

Rigel, ever attuned to her desires, scooped her up in his arms and carried her to their bed. He placed her gently on top of it, his movements tender yet filled with intent. He carefully and sensually undressed her first, and then himself, before climbing on top of her.

As he did so, Daphne looked up at him, love shining in her eyes. "I love you more than anything in the world," she whispered.

Rigel gazed down at her, the depth of his own emotions reflected in his eyes. "It's the same for me," he replied, his voice soft yet firm. He then kissed her deeply, their bond strengthening in the midst of their shared vulnerability and passion.

After their fervent lovemaking session, the room was suddenly interrupted by the appearance of Kreacher. The house-elf held a letter in his hand, extending it towards Rigel. "This letter arrived for you, Master Rigel," Kreacher said solemnly. "It is important."

Rigel, still catching his breath and glistening with sweat, sat up on the bed and took the letter. Daphne, equally spent, propped herself up and leaned her head on Rigel's shoulder, curious to read along.

The letter was from Andromeda Tonks. In it, she expressed her concern about the recent actions of the Ministry and mentioned that she felt it would be best for her family to accept Rigel's previous offer to rejoin the Black family officially. She sought guidance on how he wished to proceed.

Upon reading the letter, Daphne suggested, "Why don't we invite them over for dinner tonight? You could officially reinstate them into the family then."

Rigel nodded in agreement. Turning to Kreacher, he instructed, "Please go to Andromeda and tell her they're invited for dinner today."

Kreacher nodded and with a soft pop, he vanished, only to reappear a few moments later. "Mrs. Andromeda has agreed to come for dinner, Master Rigel," he reported.

Rigel and Daphne exchanged a look of mutual understanding and determination. The Tonks family would be their first official allies outside their immediate circle of friends. Both were aware, however, that more allies would be necessary for the challenges ahead.

Later, after showering and dressing, they shared the news with Sirius. His reaction was one of surprise, but he was visibly pleased. "That's excellent news!" Sirius exclaimed with a broad smile. "It's about time we brought Andromeda and her family back into the fold." His approval and happiness were clear, acknowledging the importance of reuniting the family and healing old wounds.

~~~o~~~

That evening, the atmosphere in the Black Castle was one of anticipation and excitement. The Tonks family arrived, and Rigel greeted them warmly at the entrance. He led them through the castle's grand corridors, Sirius and Daphne accompanying them, to the room where the Black family tapestry was displayed.

"I think we should take care of some important business first, before dinner," Rigel suggested as they entered the room.

The tapestry, an intricate record of the Black family lineage, showed various branches and names. Rigel located the spot where Andromeda's name had been burned away, a stark reminder of the family's past intolerance.

Turning to Andromeda, Rigel asked for her hand. "Please give me your hand," he said gently. Then, pointing his wand at the spot on the tapestry, he began to recite a chant:

"Per sanguinem et fidem, redintegrare hanc familiam. Ex cinere ad stellae, Andromeda nobis redit."

Translation: "Through blood and faith, restore this family. From ashes to the stars, Andromeda returns to us."

As he finished the incantation, his wand emitted a warm, glowing light. The burn mark on the tapestry began to fade, and slowly, Andromeda's face reappeared on the fabric. Immediately, new branches began to form, first adding Ted Tonks and then branching out further to show Nymphadora.

Overwhelmed with emotion, Andromeda broke into tears of joy. Ted and Nymphadora were quick to be by her side, offering their support and sharing in the momentous occasion.

"Welcome back to the Black family," Rigel said, his voice filled with sincerity and warmth.

"Now, let's celebrate this with some of Kreacher's delicious food," he suggested, leading the way back to the dining hall.

The dinner that followed was held in a jubilant setting. Laughter and conversation filled the room, creating an atmosphere of warmth and camaraderie as they all enjoyed the meal together. It was a rare moment of unity and happiness for the Black family, indicative of changing times and mended relationships.

However, notably absent from the gathering was Walburga Black. She had chosen to spend the evening in her study, away from the festivities. While the rest of the family celebrated the reintegration of the Tonks family into the Black lineage, Walburga preferred solitude, reflecting her own complex feelings about the changing dynamics within the family.

After the celebratory dinner, Rigel motioned for Tonks to follow him to the sitting room, away from the others. Once they were alone, he turned to her, his expression serious. "Tonks, I need to ask you something," he said.

Tonks, curious, nodded. "Sure, Rigel. Ask away."

"Do you know about the Order of the Phoenix?" Rigel inquired, watching her closely.

"Yeah," Tonks replied, "I've been invited to join by Moody."

Rigel looked momentarily taken aback. "Moody? What happened to him? I completely forgot about him after the third task."

"He was held hostage in the office that was given to him at Hogwarts," Tonks explained.

Rigel nodded, absorbing the information. "Interesting. Good to hear he's not dead." He then steered the conversation back to his original point. "How open would you be to... spying for me?" he asked cautiously.

Tonks looked surprised. "Why would you need a spy? Sirius is in the Order too."

Rigel sighed, the weight of his thoughts evident in his expression. "I don't fully trust Dumbledore, but unfortunately, Dad does. I can't expect him to share the Order's secrets with me. My goal, which you already know about, is to change the Wizarding World. But with Voldemort's return, I have another goal: to stop him. Information from the Order could be crucial in achieving both – stopping Voldemort and enacting the changes we need. To maximize our chances of winning, I need a spy in the Order. I understand if you don't want to – that's perfectly fine. As a cousin, I'd just ask you to forget this conversation and not mention it to anyone."

Tonks was silent for a moment, deep in thought. Then, she looked up at Rigel with determination. "Last time we talked, I told you I'd be there to help you. If this is the help you need, then I'll do my best. I'll be your spy and provide you with all the information I get from the Order."

Rigel's face broke into a smile, and he pulled her into a grateful hug. "Thank you, Tonks. I can't tell you how much this means to me." His gratitude was palpable, and in that moment, their bond as cousins and allies was solidified, united by a common cause and a shared determination.

After their conversation, they returned to the dining room, rejoining the others. Rigel felt a sense of relief and gratitude, knowing that he had someone he could trust on the inside of the Order.