Chapter 2
The debate had drawn to a close, the Wizengamot chamber slowly emptying as members filed out in pairs or small groups. Orion Black remained seated for a moment longer, fingers resting lightly on the golden head of his cane. At his side, his service dog—a Cane Corso—stood alert, watching the movement around them with quiet vigilance. Its broad chest and powerful build radiated strength, but its calm, steady demeanor bespoke its true role: a lifeline, not a guard dog.
Walburga, ever attuned to her husband, leaned slightly toward him. "Shall we?" she asked softly, her tone carrying an edge of concern that only he would catch.
Orion nodded but made no immediate move to rise. Instead, he reached down and ran his hand along the smooth biothane harness, fingers brushing over the black gems embedded within the white straps. His grip tightened on the rigid counterbalance handle as he gave a small signal. The dog shifted, muscles tensing as it prepared to assist.
With practiced precision, Orion pushed himself upright, leaning into the support of both the dog and his cane. The motion was slow but deliberate, the Cane Corso bracing itself perfectly as Orion steadied his footing. He exhaled evenly, feeling the strain in his legs but allowing none of it to show on his face.
The chamber had mostly emptied by now, but a few lingered, their gazes flickering between Orion and his service dog. It wasn’t curiosity; it was judgment. Some still questioned his presence, his strength, as though the need for assistance diminished his capability. Orion felt the weight of their stares but met them head-on with the quiet authority that had defined him for years.
With a gentle word and a subtle shift of his hand on the harness, Orion signaled the dog to move. The Cane Corso stepped forward with slow, deliberate strides, ensuring its handler could walk securely. The counterbalance harness absorbed much of Orion’s weight, allowing him to maintain his dignity and posture as they left the chamber together.
Walburga walked at his side, her gaze cutting through anyone who dared look too long. Behind them, Sirius trailed with his usual casual swagger, hands buried in his pockets. Regulus walked close to his mother, his expression composed but watchful, as though he was cataloging every moment of the day.
The reflective marble floors caught the sunlight streaming through the high windows, and the lettering on the dog’s crimson cape stood out boldly: Mobility Assistance—Medical Alert. A silent declaration to the world that this animal was not a pet but an indispensable partner.
As they moved through the halls, Orion’s pace was measured, his focus on every step. The dog adjusted fluidly, responding to the smallest shifts in weight or balance. The cane in his free hand tapped lightly against the floor, more for rhythm than support. To an outsider, the movements might have seemed slow, but to those who understood, it was a dance of trust and partnership—one that had been practiced countless times.
As they reached the Ministry's grand atrium, Eldritch Cuffe approached, his footsteps echoing against the polished stone. "Lord Black," he greeted, pausing briefly to glance at the Cane Corso before meeting Orion’s eyes. "Your words today carried weight. I trust the others will think carefully before raising such objections again."
Orion inclined his head slightly. "Thank you, Cuffe. The matters we discussed today are far too critical to be overshadowed by... personal misgivings." His tone was steady, but the emphasis on the last words was deliberate.
Cuffe nodded, his expression thoughtful. "I admire your fortitude. Few could have handled Shacklebolt’s remarks with such composure."
Orion gave a faint smile. "Strength isn’t always loud, Cuffe. Sometimes it’s quiet resolve."
The two exchanged a brief nod before Cuffe turned and left. Orion resumed walking, his service dog leading the way with its steady, confident gait.
Outside, the crisp afternoon air greeted them, carrying the faint scent of rain on the horizon. The strain in Orion’s legs had grown sharper, but he didn’t falter. Instead, he leaned a little more into the counterbalance handle, the dog responding instantly to his unspoken need.
Walburga glanced at him as they descended the stone steps toward the awaiting carriage. "You’ve done more than enough for today. Don’t push yourself further," she said quietly, her sharp eyes softening just slightly.
Orion met her gaze, his lips curling into the smallest of smiles. "You worry too much, Walburga. I’m fine."
From behind, Sirius spoke up, his voice carrying a note of pride that was rare for him. "You really showed them today, Father. That Shacklebolt bloke didn’t stand a chance."
Orion chuckled softly, resting a hand briefly on the dog’s head as they reached the carriage. "Let people question me if they must. It’s better they voice their doubts openly than whisper them in the shadows. This way, they’ll have their answers."
Regulus, walking with his usual quiet composure, nodded in agreement. "And after today, I doubt they’ll have the nerve to question you again."
Walburga stepped forward, her gaze sharp as she scanned the area. "If they do, they’ll regret it."
Orion let out a low chuckle, giving the counterbalance handle a gentle squeeze to signal the dog to pause as he turned back to his family. "Let them talk. It’s what we do that matters."
The Cane Corso wagged its tail lightly as if sensing the shift in tone, its calm presence grounding Orion as the family entered the carriage. Today had been a test, but it was one he had faced with unshakable resolve and the quiet strength of the partnership he shared with his service dog. And tomorrow, he would face whatever challenges came next, one deliberate step at a time.
The ride home was quieter than usual, the streets of London passing in a blur beyond the carriage windows. Inside, the air was subdued, the day’s events at the Wizengamot leaving their mark. Orion Black leaned back in his seat, his cane resting against the armrest as he fought against the ache settling deep in his legs and back. The strain of standing and walking for hours had taken its toll, though he had masked it well in front of the others.
His service dog, a steady and silent partner, lay at his feet. The Cane Corso, trained to anticipate his needs, shifted slightly, resting its massive head on Orion’s knee. The pressure was intentional, a grounding technique the dog had been taught to use when it sensed Orion’s pain or fatigue. Orion rested his hand on the dog’s head, his fingers idly tracing the smooth fur, finding calm in the familiar motion.
Walburga, seated beside him, glanced over, her sharp eyes narrowing at the tension in his frame. "Orion," she began softly, her voice carrying an edge of concern she rarely allowed herself to show. "You’ve pushed yourself too far today."
Orion exhaled slowly, his eyes meeting hers. "It needed to be done," he replied simply, his tone as steady as ever. But he didn’t try to hide the weariness in his face—not here, not in the presence of his family.
Across from them, Sirius stretched his long legs out, his usual carefree demeanor tempered by quiet observation. "Father, you know you don’t have to handle it all on your own," he said, nodding toward the service dog. "That’s what he’s here for, isn’t it? To pick up the slack."
Orion smiled faintly, his hand moving to the counterbalance handle of the dog’s harness. "He does his job well," he said. "But even with him, there are days that take more out of me than others."
The Cane Corso, alert as ever, sat up, its posture straight and ready. The biothane harness, marked with "Mobility Assistance" and "Medical Alert," gleamed faintly in the light streaming through the carriage. The dog nudged Orion’s leg gently, a quiet prompt for him to adjust his position for better support.
Walburga placed a hand on Orion’s arm, her touch light but firm. "You’ve done enough for today. Let the dog take some of the weight. That’s why we invested in his training."
"I know," Orion admitted, leaning slightly into the counterbalance handle as the dog shifted to better brace him. "And he’s earned his keep today, as always." His voice softened, the faintest hint of gratitude breaking through his otherwise composed demeanor.
Regulus, ever attentive and composed like his mother, spoke up from his seat next to Sirius. "We’re almost home. You can rest once we arrive."
Orion nodded, closing his eyes briefly. The thought of the manor—of the quiet sanctuary it offered—was a comforting one. The familiar halls, the warmth of the hearth in his study, and the reliable presence of his family would provide the respite he needed.
The carriage jolted slightly as it turned onto the long drive leading to Black Manor. Orion felt the subtle shift in his service dog’s posture as it steadied itself and, in turn, helped stabilize him. The dog’s calm, unwavering presence was a balm to Orion, a reminder that even on the most challenging days, he was never truly alone in facing his struggles.
As the carriage rolled to a stop, Walburga turned to him once more. "When we get inside, you’re going to rest, Orion. No debates."
Sirius grinned, his tone teasing as he added, "Don’t worry, Mother. I’ll make sure he behaves."
Orion chuckled lowly, the sound carrying a hint of warmth despite his exhaustion. "I’ll rest," he promised, his hand tightening briefly on the dog’s harness before releasing it. "But only because I know I’ll have all three of you hovering if I don’t."
The family stepped out of the carriage as one, the Cane Corso leading the way with precision and confidence. Orion leaned into the counterbalance handle, the dog’s steady movements helping him navigate the short walk to the grand entrance of the manor. Behind him, Sirius and Regulus flanked Walburga, their quiet presence a testament to the strength of their family bond.
As they crossed the threshold into the manor, Orion allowed himself a small moment of relief. The familiar scent of home, the warmth of the interior, and the quiet efficiency of the house-elves all signaled a return to safety. The service dog wagged its tail slightly, sensing the shift in atmosphere, and Orion gave it a brief pat on the head.
"Good boy," he murmured softly, his voice laced with gratitude. The dog leaned into his touch, its calm presence a constant reminder that no matter how heavy the day had been, there was always support to lean on.
And for now, that was enough.