Chapter 3
The carriage rolled to a smooth stop in front of Black Manor, its towering spires casting long shadows as dusk settled over the grounds. The service dog, a sleek Cane Corso trained to anticipate its handler's needs, sat poised at Orion’s side, alert to his every movement.
The door opened with a soft creak, and Walburga stepped out first, her expression calm but sharp as she surveyed the grounds. Regulus followed, waiting by the door as Sirius lingered, glancing back at their father. Inside, Orion remained seated, his hands resting heavily on the carved armrests as he prepared himself to stand. The strain of the day weighed on him—a mix of physical exhaustion and the quiet pain he rarely admitted aloud.
The dog, ever attentive, nudged Orion's hand lightly. Its broad, steady head pressed against his leg, a silent reminder that help was right there. Orion glanced down at his companion, his fingers brushing the smooth leather of the handle attached to the dog’s harness. Trained for balance and mobility, the dog’s presence had become essential on days like this, but even with its support, standing felt like a monumental task.
Orion shifted, attempting to rise, but the sharp ache in his legs sent him back into the seat with a barely suppressed groan. The dog responded immediately, placing its paws on Orion’s lap to provide grounding pressure—a soothing technique that helped him focus and manage the discomfort.
“Orion?” Walburga’s voice cut through the quiet. She stood just outside the carriage, her hand resting on the open door. Her tone carried its usual edge, but there was a softness to it, a concern she rarely let show. “Are you alright?”
For a moment, he said nothing, his pride warring with the need to ask for help. Finally, he exhaled and met her gaze. “I... I need a hand,” he admitted, the words quieter than he intended. It was difficult to say them, but his service dog had taught him one thing: there was no shame in seeking assistance when it was needed.
Walburga didn’t hesitate. She stepped back inside, her movements fluid and purposeful. Without a word, she extended her arm, and Orion reached for it, his grip firm but trembling slightly. On his other side, the dog adjusted its position, standing close enough for Orion to grip the handle securely.
“Easy,” Walburga said, her voice steady. She matched her movements to his, bracing as Orion pushed himself to his feet. The Cane Corso leaned into the motion, acting as a counterbalance while Orion shifted his weight carefully. Between the two of them, he managed to stand, though his breathing was shallow, and his jaw clenched against the lingering pain.
Once upright, Orion rested his free hand on the dog’s broad back, grounding himself further. “Thank you,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, but the gratitude was evident.
Sirius and Regulus, who had been watching from outside, stepped forward to help steady him if needed. “Father, you should have said something sooner,” Sirius said, his usual teasing tone replaced by genuine concern.
Orion offered a small smile. “I’m fine, Sirius. Your mother and... my companion here have it under control.”
The dog, as if understanding the acknowledgment, wagged its tail once before falling back into its composed stance, ready for the next task. Walburga nodded briskly, her grip still firm on Orion’s arm. “Let’s get you inside.”
With her leading and the dog guiding his steps, Orion began the slow walk toward the front entrance of Black Manor. Each step was deliberate, the dog’s movements synchronized with Orion’s to provide balance and stability. It wasn’t the first time the service dog had been called upon for such a task, and its calm, reliable demeanor reassured Orion with every measured step.
By the time they reached the grand doors, Orion’s breathing had evened out, though the day’s toll was still evident in the tightness of his posture. Walburga glanced at him, her expression unreadable but her intentions clear. “You’re going to rest, Orion.”
He sighed, leaning slightly more on the dog as they stepped inside. “I will,” he promised, his voice low but sincere. The familiar warmth of the manor enveloped them, and for the first time that day, he allowed himself to feel at ease. The service dog remained at his side, a steady, grounding presence that reminded him that even on the hardest days, he didn’t have to manage alone.
The grand doors of Black Manor swung open, revealing the imposing yet familiar interior. The high ceilings, dark wood, and silver accents exuded the wealth and power of the Black family name. The cold stone floors echoed with the sound of footsteps, but the chill of the manor wasn’t what weighed on Orion as he stepped inside.
He adjusted his grip on the ergonomic handle of his service dog’s harness, the dog walking at his side with practiced precision. The golden retriever—trained to provide stability and mobility support—kept its pace steady, ensuring Orion’s balance didn’t falter as they crossed the threshold. The canine’s quiet confidence was a constant reassurance.
Walburga walked beside him, her hand brushing his arm, offering subtle but steadying support. Though she was known for her sharpness and unyielding demeanor, with Orion, there was a quiet understanding. She respected his need for independence but was there when he needed her, unwavering and loyal.
Sirius and Regulus stayed close, their concern evident. Sirius’s usual rebellious air had melted into quiet attentiveness, while Regulus, ever observant, remained watchful. Both sons knew better than to hover or speak of their father’s condition—it was a delicate balance between showing care and respecting his pride.
As they reached the entry hall, Orion paused, his breath slow and measured. The ache in his legs was a dull but persistent reminder of why he relied on his service dog, but the mental exhaustion was just as heavy.
"I need to sit," Orion admitted, his voice low but firm. He glanced toward Walburga, who immediately signaled a house-elf.
The dog responded without command, shifting to Orion’s side, its posture signaling readiness to assist as Orion turned. A plush chair was quickly brought forward, and Sirius stepped in to help position it. Once seated, Orion let out a slow exhale, his hand resting on the dog’s back. The canine, sensing his tension, pressed closer and gently placed its head on his knee, offering the grounding presence Orion needed.
The dog’s calming influence was immediate. Its specialized training allowed it to detect changes in Orion’s breathing and posture, responding instinctively with deep pressure therapy as its paws gently pressed against his legs. The repetitive motion soothed the ache in his muscles and helped ease the mental strain.
Walburga knelt beside him, her sharp gaze scanning his face. "Orion," she said softly, "are you alright?"
He hesitated, his hand moving to rub the dog’s ears in silent gratitude. He hated admitting weakness, but the unwavering support of his wife and the loyalty of the service dog made it easier. "It’s been a long day," he finally said, his voice quieter than usual.
"You’ve been pushing yourself too hard," she replied, her tone firm but not unkind. "You know the dog can only do so much if you don’t give yourself time to rest."
"I know," Orion said, the words heavy with reluctance. Pride was a hard thing to set aside, but he was learning. Slowly.
Sirius stepped forward, hesitating as if unsure of what to say. "Do you need anything, Father?" he asked finally, his voice softer than usual.
Orion looked up at his son, touched by the uncharacteristic gentleness in his tone. "No, Sirius. Just knowing you’re here is enough," he replied with a tired smile.
Regulus lingered nearby, his brow furrowed. "Are you sure we shouldn’t call for a healer?" he asked cautiously.
"I’m sure," Orion said firmly. "The dog and I are managing just fine. Rest is all I need."
Walburga stood, brushing off her robes as she glanced between her sons. "Your father needs quiet now," she said, her voice regaining its commanding edge. "Go on, both of you."
The boys hesitated, casting one last glance at their father before retreating. Once they were out of earshot, Walburga turned back to Orion.
"You rely on that dog more than you’re willing to admit," she said, her tone softening again. "And that’s not a weakness, Orion. It’s wisdom."
He nodded, his fingers absently stroking the dog’s fur. "I’m still getting used to it. To all of this," he said quietly. "But you’re right. I wouldn’t have made it this far without the dog—or without you."
Walburga smiled faintly, standing and offering him her arm. "Come. Let’s get you to bed."
Orion rose slowly, his service dog immediately positioning itself for support. Together, with the dog steadying his steps and Walburga at his side, he made his way toward his chambers. The road to accepting his limitations was long, but with his family and his service dog, he knew he wasn’t walking it alone.