hatching the plot
After a long, drawn out moment where Orion eagerly stared at Abraxas expectantly, the blond Slytherin finally raised a brow in disbelief. "That is, by far, the most absurd idea I've ever heard."
"Hey now, a plan's a plan. A promise a promise, oath and all, and since I don't see you having any brilliant ideas," Orion paused with his eyes wide in encouragement. When there was, tellingly, no response other than a sigh and a shrug, he grinned. “Then this is what we’re going to do.”
"You do realize this potion is notoriously difficult to make for a reason, yes? The thestral hair alone would cost-"
"Oh don't worry about that one. I nicked it from the attic."
"You- alright, but that doesn't mean we'd be able to get our hands on a Graphorn’s horn on such short notice-"
"I got it for Christmas in fourth year, remember?"
Abraxas was squinting now, pale grey eyes shrouded in thought. He did remember that, actually. Black was the envy of every potioneer in the vicinity- the last breeding pair of Graphorns had disappeared over two decades ago. Any one of their parts were incredibly sought after for a variety of potions. That he was willing to use that for Riddle now… exasperation was slowly giving way to consideration.
"I suppose I could provide the dragon blood," he hedged, fingers tapping against the parchment. A neat cross appeared next to it, checking off the blood, hair and horn.
There were only three ingredients left.
“And what are we to do about these final requirements? Quite esoteric in nature, aren’t they,” Abraxas mused. “These can be interpreted in so many different ways. 'Honor' in what sense? Physical, emotional, magical?”
“We just need to pick the one that fits our needs best, right? The way I see it, that one is pretty straightforward.”
“You know as well as I do that we still have the ban from fourth year on his name.”
Orion nodded his assent, looking like the cat that got the canary. “We have that ban, sure. But,” and here he pointed towards the stairway. “There are some exceptions, aren’t there?”
Understanding hit Abraxas like a hushed lumos charm.
Riddle had placed a magical taboo on Professor Potter’s name within the confines of the Slytherin dormitories for the entirety of his inner circle due to the... unfortunate (and clearly foolish) incident with Lestrange in fourth year, which had gradually expanded to include any current students within their house at that time, which then became something every new cohort of students learned through word of mouth-
Do not say Professor Potter’s name anywhere Tom Riddle can hear you.
But as a result of that it meant there was one last, small window of opportunity in their final year at Hogwarts where someone could plausibly mention his name, and with the right preparations they could get what they needed. It didn’t even have to be someone specific- any one of their batch would do the trick.
As one, Orion and Abraxas turned to face the staircase where the last of the first year students had disappeared to just moments ago.
“You know, Black,” Abraxas conceded. “You may be on to something here.”
"I- I need some h-help with my homework," the first-year whispered, embarrassed and flushing. The poor girl was mortified because of the ill-timed silence in the common room, the lull in conversation coinciding with her stumbling request.
Riddle flipped a page in his textbook, the quiet rustle of parchment filling the silence. Almost immediately, the low thrum of conversation rose once more.
Or perhaps the fear of interrupting Riddle, however tangentially that may be. Lucretia smiled, comforting and gentle, setting her potions textbook down to motion the girl forward.
"What class is it for?" she asked. As Head Girl, she was well-versed with the schedules for each year and was reasonably certain it was for either Potions or Herbology considering it was a Thursday. Perhaps it was Slughorn wanting the thirteen uses of unicorn hair. Or maybe Amadeus, challenging the new students to get familiar with the library to find another property of the mandrake root. Though Fiera could not be discounted either-
"It's for Professor Potter," the first-year replied with a quick dart of her eyes towards the emerald green armchair where Riddle sat, her voice trembling towards the end as she noticed how Riddle had gone perfectly, intently still.
As though summoned by the mere mention of his name, Abraxas strode into the common room.
"A question about Professor Potter?" he mused aloud. The rest of the inner circle was staring at him in horrified fascination. "Of course, the best person to ask would be our very own T-"
The hex hit him square in the face before he had even finished his sentence.
Orion finally managed to undo the spell on his fifth try, patting the shoulder of the annoyed Slytherin in sympathy. Abraxas glared half-heartedly.
"Next time, you will be the one losing at rock-paper-scissors."
"Sure 'Braxas, whatever you say" he said, encouraging the blond to lean on him for support. "Let's get you to bed."