Heron

Light. Bright, blinding, pure. Orion could see only whiteness, the perfect opposite of what he last remembered. There was no pain in his hand nor torso. His back was feeling a bit itchy, though. In a few blinks, the brilliant shine started to dwindle, revealing a large castle. He was sitting at the edge of the forest, his back on a tree’s trunk. He looked at his two hands; virtually identical with the exception of a large, almost circular scar going around his left one. He lifted his shirt which was not only whole again but was also neatly ironed, and there was yet another large scar where he remembered a fountain of blood springing from before. He slowly looked around and noticed an envelope alongside a pair of gloves and a small vial with silverlike liquid inside. The letter was written in handwriting similar to Orion’s. 

Dear Master Orion,   

I came as soon as I could, but you were unfortunately already in an incredibly horrific condition. I could only do so much to keep you alive. The wounds were worryingly deep and the potions I used could not get rid of the scars, nor could my humble magic. I imagine this was the doing of ancient magic, in which case, I doubt they will fully heal at all. Facial wounds rarely leave a permanent mark, so maybe that one might do, seeing as it was much shallower. I expected you might want to hide the scars, so I prepared a pair of the highest quality gloves; I hope you like them. I also made sure your clothes and you yourself were clean for the day. Please make sure to keep yourself safe, as my apparitions near and inside Hogwarts could stir rumors among the other house elves. The vial was lying next to you.  

With utmost respect,   

Grimbly.  

P.S   

There was a unicorn corpse not two hundred feet away from where you were when you called me. The Forbidden Forest is home to many evil and dangerous creatures, but only the vilest, most repugnant, wretched monster would harm such a sacred beast, for everyone knows that a taste of its blood, although all-curing, leads only to certain doom. Please be careful.  

Orion was concerned about the postscript. Like his house elf had mentioned, harming unicorns is something no child of Nature’s would dare do. Putting the gloves on(thankfully, it was not uncommon for people to wear gloves at Hogwarts) and dusting himself off, Orion placed the vial in his pocket, burned the letter and headed for the castle walls. The sun was still low, so it was before lunch, most likely time for the second period of the day. 

---- 

“ Um, professor, I have to tell you something.” Caspian whispered to the short teacher after he had taken attendance and noticed Orion wasn’t present once again. “Orio-” 

“Ah, Mr. Hawthorne, good of you to join us today. I hope yest- my, what is that scar on your cheek?” Flitwick began happy but turned worried halfway through. 

“I apologize for being absent yesterday, Professor. I was trying a rather difficult spell, just outside the castle on Monday. It backfired and it seems to have knocked me out. This scar will serve me well to keep me from doing such experiments again.” Orion bowed. This was the longest sentence anyone in the room besides Hermione had heard the boy say, and they were all surprised. 

Those who knew what Orion was capable of, however, were not convinced he had butchered a spell and thought the reason for his absence the day before was different. 

“Well, I hope Madam Pomfrey has taken a look at you. I see no issues with us continuing the class.” said the teacher cheerfully. “Now, as we mentioned yesterday-” 

“Are you OK? What happened?” Caspian asked Orion in a whisper as he was sitting beside him.  

“I’m fine.” Orion returned in his usual fashion. 

“That scar looks like trouble.” the other insisted, subconsciously reaching with his hand to touch it. 

The feeling of a person’s touch that was not cold nor filled with malice, but instead warmth and care, was one Orion had almost forgotten. For a second, he let the other boy touch the scar, but then came to his senses and pushed his hand. 

“Sorry.” Caspian also realized he was acting like a worried mother and promptly apologized. 

The class finished with Flitwick giving a suspicious look towards Orion who had no trouble with the slightly more advanced Severing Charm - “Diffindo”. 

“ Where were you, we were worried sick, you know?” asked Silas while they were walking down towards the greenhouses. 

“Where I said I was.” answered Orion, referring to his lie at the beginning of class. 

“And what was the spell you had issues with?” Hermione stopped the boy with a raised eyebrow. 

“Vitrifragium.” answered Orion quickly.  

“What’s that?” asked Terry, but he wasn’t the only one confused.  

“It’s a spell that turns an object to glass and then shatters it.” Hermione answered in Orion’s stead. 

“A piece knocked me out and also gave me the cut.”  

Hermione looked at the other three, frowned in thought and then continued on her way.  

“What was that all about?” said Terry. 

Silas raised his eyebrows, looked towards Terry and Caspian and started nodding with his head towards Orion. “See? I told you.” he mouthed. 

Although he had missed a whole day of class, that didn’t have any effect on Orion, the only problem was with Professor Snape who had assigned an essay the day before, and since there was no way for the boy to have it, Ravenclaw lost five points. Only the midnight Astronomy class was left. During the time before it, Orion decided to go to the Undercroft; the vial that he had in his pocket was a memory and since that room had a pensive, he would be able to use it. Quirrell still had a lesson to teach, so he wouldn’t be disturbing him in the short span of time it would take. 

Once he walked down the stairs behind the intricate clock, he saw that the room was trashed. The tryptic’s paintings were torn, the bookshelves broken on the ground, the walls had black patches on them, as though they were blasted by a strong spell and the pensive was also crushed and parts of it were scattered across the floor. Only one table and a chair were left intact. There were also two books on the table. One of them was a book on famous wizards with the chapter for Nicolas Flamel being opened. The other was entirely dedicated to the alchemist’s most famous feat – The Philosopher’s Stone and its properties. Why Quirrell was researching this, Orion didn’t know. His only goal in this room was to get to a pensive and seeing as how there wasn’t one anymore, he left and went to the Astronomy Tower. He was glad that on his third passing in front of the eccentric ballet class painting, the Room of Requirement had one in it. He took a close look at the vial before opening it and pouring the liquid into the water. As the memory touched the water, the surface began to shift, sudden sparks occasionally popping, until finally Orion dipped his head inside. 

“Do you think this will help them when, or rather, if they manage to come here?” Orion was transported to a large circular room among two other figures. One was an older woman, most likely in her late fifties to early sixties, with flaming red hair similar to that of the Weasleys. She was also the one who asked the question. 

“The Aurendale manor test will only weed out those who aren’t able to sense it, and even if someone somehow gets into the trial, they will not only have to summon the knight, but also perform a specific spell, one which no ordinary wizard would be able to otherwise. This here will be their first true test. Maybe they will not come during my time, maybe not even during my son’s, maybe there will never be another one, but if there is, I’m sure this will not only help them, but also make them reach what I could not.” A man who looked to be no older than twenty and looked just like Orion spoke. The only difference between them was their age and the fact the older wore glasses. The boy quickly realized this must have been his great-great-grandfather when he was younger. He watched him place a heavy book inside a glass case, tap it with his hand and then the case disappeared. “ If they manage to find this room, so deep in the restricted section, I’m certain they would have already found the previous books.” The surroundings began to melt and dwindle until Orion was transported into a different room. It looked like the one he had gotten himself into after touching the symbols in the Forbidden Forest manor, except the ceiling was incredibly tall, the walls could also be seen and there was a small orb glowing in red that looked to be made from goblin silver. Orion watched as his grandfather touched his chest with his wand, extracted something from there and somehow placed it into the orb. He then placed his wand into an intricate box and put it next to the orb. 

The next moment Orion was pushed out of the memory and was standing once again in the Room of Requirement alone. What he had just experienced was a memory of either Atticus or Professor Weasley, most likely the former. “ So that wasn’t even the first proper trial and I almost died?” he thought in frustration. Despite being more than capable even among elder wizards and witches, he still had to prepare to face the trials. Phineas Black was right that he was still too young. 

--- 

Terry woke up that night with a dry throat. As he went up the stairs to get himself a glass of water, he noticed there was someone still awake in the common room. 

“Orion?” he called, sleepily rubbing his eyes. 

The person didn’t turn, but as his eyes adapted to the darkness, Terry saw the white hair of his classmate. “C’mon, it’s late, you better get some sleep. Especially with Astronomy being so late.” he yawned. 

“Sure.” the other boy stood up, wiping his eyes as well. 

As Orion quickly went by, Terry noticed his eyes were red. 

The following morning after Caspian and Silas had woken up, and Orion had already left (early as usual), Terry told them what he had seen during the night, guessing Orion had probably had a nightmare. 

“He is only human.” said Caspian while putting on his shirt. 

“I was starting to doubt it, to be honest,” said Silas, “he responds like a puppet and never fails at anything.” 

“That’s a bit rude.” argued Caspian. 

“But it’s true.” 

The rest of the week was quiet, as quiet as it gets at Hogwarts when the Quidditch season was about to begin on the weekend. On Saturday Gryffindor and Slytherin were to face off in the first match of the year. Rumors were spreading quickly. “ Potter has actually never ridden a broom before”, “They say he is faster than Cian Murphy”, “I heard he got a Nimbus 2000 specifically designed for him.”. While Orion was eating breakfast, he noticed Potter looked almost petrified, he was staring at his lap, his friends Granger and Weasley, trying to comfort him. It wasn’t until two identical gingers – the Weasley twins, who were the beaters for the team, sat by him that he started to relax a little. 

“Aren’t you going to come watch the game?” Caspian asked when he saw Orion heading in a different direction than almost every other student. 

“No.” 

“I know you said you’re not interested in Quidditch, but I think you should at least come for the school games. Even if our house isn’t playing.” Caspian almost sounded like he was begging. 

Orion thought for a second. “Fine.” he said to Caspian’s immense surprise. 

“Are there any sports you actually enjoy?” he asked while they were sitting on the stands. 

“Snooker.” answered Orion after a second of thought. 

“What’s snooker?” Caspian was confused, but before Orion could explain it was a Muggle game which even most of them found boring, a loud whistle was blown and fifteen brooms ascended from the ground. 

“And the Quaffle is taken immediately by Angelina Johnson of Gryffindor – what an excellent Chaser that girl is, and rather attractive, too –” 

“JORDAN!” McGonagall scolded Lee Jordan who was commentating on the match. 

The match began with a fierce exchange between the two houses. People were getting hit in the head by bludgers, the quaffle was being passed around quickly, shots were attempted, until finally Gryffindor scored first. A few seconds after that Harry could be seen diving at quite a speed, followed by Terence Higgs, (both most likely having seen the snitch) but was blocked by Marcus Flint, the captain for Slytherin. Everyone but the Slytherin house were shouting for Madam Hooch to give a foul to the lions, which she did. On a few more occasions Harry had started going after what one could only imagine was the little golden ball, but every time he made strange moves with his broom.  

“That doesn’t look right. I think there might be something wrong with Potter’s broom.” said Silas closely following the game. 

“Nimbus 2000s aren’t known for manufacturing issues.” said Terry who was less excited about the game but was still turning his head to follow the quaffle. 

“You think it’s just him being a bad chaser? Maybe he’s still nervous.”  

“I doubt it. He looked amazing during the first class.” Caspian joined. 

“So, you think it is the broom?” Silas turned his head towards Caspian, but quickly turned to face the game again after missing another goal being scored for Slytherin. 

“I’m not sure.” Caspian continued to observe the Gryffindor seeker. 

In only a minute everyone was staring at Harry, he had completely lost control of his broom and was barely sitting on it. His teammates were trying to help him, leaving Slytherin to score a few free points. Orion knew that for someone to curse a broom, especially one of such high quality, they would have to be an incredibly strong wizard or witch. “ Oculus Prolato.” he cast and suddenly he felt like Madam Hooch; he scanned the stands, people were pointing to Potter, some had their hands covering their mouths. In the teachers’ stand he noticed two people speaking with intense stares towards the broom: Snape and Quirrell. Before he could even try to read either’s lips, the Potion Professor’s robe caught on fire, which disappeared only after a few seconds. This, having broken both their concentrations, finally freed Harry who immediately dived down and after an intense chase, he leapt off his broom and was lying on the ground. People were gathering around him and from what Orion could see, he spat out the snitch.  

“AND GRYFFINDOR WINS THE MATCH, ONE HUNDRED AND SEVENTY TO SIXTY!” Lee screamed happily. 

“Wow, that was intense. He was about to fall!” Caspian was discussing excitedly with Silas after the match. 

“One hand on the broom! He’s amazing, probably could go pro in a few yea-” he suddenly wasn’t as excited, but rather disappointed. He was once again frustrated he couldn’t join the team and so was Caspian. 

----  

“You’re not going home for the holidays?” Caspian asked Orion while packing his things. 

“No. My parents are going to visit a friend.” the white-haired boy had started speaking more and more with his fellow Ravenclaws. The events of that November night had made him more open, even if only a little. 

At this point he had also deciphered all symbols, with the scroll that he found in the manor doing most of the work. They were ‘lightning’, ‘earth’, ‘water’, these three in particular Orion was mad he hadn’t managed to translate himself; ‘control’, ‘dash’ and ‘extract’. Seeing as how the one for ‘decay’ was a spell he needed to complete the trial, these were most likely others that he needed to master. In Atticus’s books he had mentioned how the first time he used ancient magic was during an attack in Hogsmeade, where he had turned a troll into stone and then decayed it, how in the memories he viewed after each trial, previous wizards and witches could mold the earth, cause rain, extract emotions and so on.  

“Well, I’m sure you’ll be enjoying yourself in the library.” said Silas, grabbing his large suitcase. 

“Make sure you also do your homework; we don’t want Snape taking points from the house.” said Terry who was pulling his luggage out of the room. “See ya.” 

“Mind accompanying us to the Entrance Hall, Ori,” Orion had given the green light for Caspian to call him that, Malfoy had a field day anytime he heard it, “plus it’s almost time for lunch.” 

“Sure.” he said, leaving the book he was reding on his bed. 

“I’ll send you a postcard, it’s the first time my family and I are going to the Netherlands.” Caspian said, waving goodbye. 

Orion entered the Grand Hall which, while very beautifully decorated with a large Christmas tree and many colorful garlands, felt pretty bare due to the number of people who had gone home. On the Gryffindor table two first-years were playing wizards chess. 

“Hmmmm....knight to e5.” said the boy wearing glasses. 

As Orion sat on the Ravenclaw table, another Gryffindor student joined the other two. 

“Queen takes e5.” said Ron and his queen moved up to the knight and sliced it with her sword. 

“That’s totally barbaric!” exclaimed Hermione as the pieces of Harry’s knight began to disappear. 

“That’s wizard’s chess.” Ron said smugly, he was very confident in his abilities. “I see you’ve packed.” 

“I see you haven’t.” Hermione countered. 

Orion could overhear the rest of their dialogue, apparently the Weasley family had a last-minute decision to go to Romania and couldn’t take him with. 

“Good, you’re going to help Harry then. He’s going to look in the library for information on Nicholas Flamel...” Orion stopped just before taking a bite of his omelette. This was the second time he had encountered the name, and the fact the other was from Quirrell made him very suspicious. “...not in the restricted section. Happy Christmas.” were the last thing she added before heading out. 

Orion knew that Hermione wouldn’t dare break the rules, unless it was for something exceedingly important and even then, it would be under question. So, what would be so serious for her to tell the two boys to wander into the forbidden part of the library? Funnily enough, he was also planning to go there, as that was where the first proper trial was said to be located. He had been practicing his casting speed, to make sure his hand would no longer be sliced in half; everything else he’d have to learn in the trial itself. 

When he woke up on Christmas and went up to the common room, he noticed a moderate pile of presents under the Christmas tree. At the beginning of the year, he wouldn’t have imagined gifting anyone presents but here he was, placing three neatly packaged books for when his classmates would return. He had gotten Caspian and Silas fairly similar books on Quidditch and Terry – a book that would help even the most advanced wizards become better ones. As he was putting them, he noticed a tag that had his name on it. By the form of the gift, it was also most likely a book. Slowly and carefully unfolding the wrapping, he pulled out a fairly old looking book titled What Everything Tells Us by none other than Callister. There was also a note beneath the cover, written in three different handwritings. 

We’ve seen you reading this person’s books and Mrs. Pince told us you might like it. Said it’s “rare”, Silas thinks she said that just to make us pay more for it, though she also mentioned it was from her personal collection, so I guess you could say it’s from us three and her. Merry Christmas. - Caspian  

Caspian said it would be better to get one good present rather than three smaller ones and I agree with him. Thank you for helping me with Charms and Potions. I hope you like it. Merry Christmas. - Terry  

She definitely said it to get more galleons, I don’t trust that woman. Merry Christmas. – Silas  

There was a smiley face beneath Silas’s message.  

---  

The library was pitch black on Christmas Eve, even Mrs. Pince couldn’t be seen anywhere. Orion wasn’t complaining, though, he just waltzed in, and to his not-so-much-surprise the lock on the Restricted Section was already lifted. As he was heading to the staircase that he guessed would lead him into the room with the archway Atticus had written about, he looked through the various bookshelves, trying to see how exactly Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley had decided to sneak in. A single lamp was lit in the section with books that started with the letter ‘F’, but no one could be seen. Just as he was about to try to cast “ Revelio” the library doors opened, and a cat walked in. Filch’s cat. With a quick flick Orion turned himself invisible, and with one more he extinguished the lamp. He didn’t wait for the caretaker to come and investigate. Down the stairs was a simple cellarlike room, it was filled with various chests, some covered in cloth; globes of various sizes, for some reason there were even suits of armor, the same ones that decorated certain halls in the castle; of course, there were also several dozen books scattered all around. 

“Ho ho. Ho ho ho.” a head came out of one of the suits of armor.  

“My, my, what a sight,  
a scene that I have seen. 
I gave those boys a fright,  
for they were where they shouldn’t’ve been.” hummed Peeves. 

Orion was not the slightest bit fond of the poltergeist. He used to run about the castle, coming out of the walls to scare students who were carrying large piles of materials, disturbing people at meals, scaring them late at night and whatever else his head could come up to be as annoying as he could. 

“You look just like the one 
the teachers didn’t catch. 
In a blink the boy was gone, 
but the other was no match.” the transparent man continued to rhyme. 

Orion chose to ignore him and just continued down another flight of stairs that were in the corner of the room. “STUDENT OUT OF BED IN THE RESTRICTED SECTION, FILCH. COME GET THEM.” he could hear Peeves shout as he ascended to the main floor of the library. Down the steps was a very small room. There were two bookshelves and a suspiciously empty wall staring at the boy. Luckily for him, before he could get caught, he noticed a brick was glowing in the way he recognized. He tapped it, the wall opened quickly, and just as Mrs. Norris arrived in the room, the wall once again closed behind him.  

A large circular space with an arch in the middle and an elevated path going all around it.  

“Revelio.” said the boy after taking a deep breath. A portal opened where the arch was, but Orion still had doubts. If he couldn’t get through this trial, then maybe it would be best to not attempt to continue with the rest of them. He hesitantly placed his hand into the waterlike surface and the same feeling he felt in the Aurendale manor embraced him. 

An exquisite marble gate with gold details was standing in front of him. In fact, the whole room he was in was made of marble. Large white pillars held everything up. As he was looking around, the door opened. The next chamber was even more grand, there was a large chasm, however, separating the platform Orion was on with another one he supposed he had to get across to. He looked down the pit cautiously; it was around two hundred feet deep with water at the bottom. The platform on the other side had the symbol for ‘earth’ on it. He closed his eyes and as though pulling the earth beneath him with both hands, tried to build a bridge, but no matter how hard he was concentrating nothing happened. He spent half an hour trying to create one and after no success whatsoever decided to do what he had done in the Aurendale manor and come up with an appropriate spell himself. 

“Règnesolide .” was the spell he came up with. As the earth began to shift down in the chasm and a pillar started to emerge, Orion felt his body becoming weaker and weaker. He didn’t have the immense energy that was required to build something so grand, and barely managed to walk across. Once he stepped onto the other platform, the stone behind him crumbled and so did he, dropping to his knees to take a breath. It took a few seconds for the next door to open, but once it did, Orion found himself in a large chamber, with a circular floor in the middle. There was also a single large painting of a chair. 

“Excuse me.” he said with a loud but tired voice. 

“Oh! My, I’ll be right there. Pardon me. Haha.” a startled voice came from the painting. “Uhhh, to whom do I have the pleasure of speaking?” 

“Orion Hawthorne.” 

A sudden silence filled the room. From the edge of the painting emerged a head, visible only until the wide-open eyes. 

“Fascinating.” the portrait spoke, revealing the rest of the body. The man had blonde hair and a large mustache; he wore a ruffled shirt that was not buttoned on properly, as though it was done so in haste. “This is truly fascinating. You do know who Atticus is, yes?” 

“He’s my great-great-grandfather.” Orion took another look around the room. 

“Fascinating.” the man kept repeating. “A relative. A descendant. This changes so much. We thought there was no connection betweentheusersbutifyouarehisgrandchildthatmustmeantheremightbesomeconnectionbutthenagainitcouldjustbeacoincidncethoughthechancesofthatareastronomicaltosaytheleast.” (“between the users, but if you are his grandchild, that must mean there might be some connection, but then again it could also just be a coincidence, though the chances of that are astronomical to say the least”) he impressively said in a single breath. “Oh, but look at you, you’re so young. What are you, a fourth-year, no, too young, a third-year then?” 

“I’m a first-year, sir....” Orion still didn’t know who he was talking to. 

“Ah, apologies, my name is Gerald Aurendale, but forget that, a FIRST-YEAR? What are you doing here so early? We specifically told Black not to let anyone below the age of fourteen, and we didn’t even expect anyone below a fifth-year to come. How did you do the challenge? Are you able to cast already?” 

“I created a spell.” Orion kept returning calmly, which contrasted the bag of emotion Mr. Aurendale was. 

“A SPELL?” he continued to exclaim at every answer he was receiving, “Well, boy, you are either the most powerful wizard there is, or we were wrong about ancient magic more than we knew.” Noticing Orion raised his eyebrow in confusion he continued “Let me tell you. First and foremost, you must understand that very little is known about ancient magic. However, so far, every practitioner has been able to use some variation of it without any incantations, in fact you don’t even need a wand. This type of magic, we believe, is purely a result of certain people being able to....how do I put this, channel their emotion or imagination into reality. Basically, if you want the ground to move, you make it move. This trial was designed to train that.” 

“I’m not sure I understand.” 

“Well, we didn’t understand it either, but we at least thought we understood some part of it.” 

“If I may ask, you keep referring to ‘we’, but I don’t know who you are talking about.” 

“Your grandfather and I, obviously, and on occasion Mrs. Weasley, but she was too busy with work here at the school. I am a colleague of Atticus’s. You must know by now that he was the one who killed Victor Rookwood. I worked at the Ministry back then and didn’t realize I was supplying Rookwood with information. Later on, when your grandfather became an auror, I was his senior, though it didn’t feel like it. Atticus was exceptional. He made sure to hunt down every corrupt Ministry official. Azkaban got quite full while he was alive.” Gerald continued with a reminiscent tone. “That’s why he didn’t have much time to research this. But either way, you managing to cross that gap wouldn’t have opened the door, unless the method used was ancient magic, and you managing that, even though you cast a spell, is particularly interesting. I must have a moment to myself. I know you expect a...memory perhaps, since that’s what Atticus received after each of his trials. Unfortunately, I can’t give you that, since it also holds the location of the next trial, and you are far too young to face it. Instead, I’ll give you the “lesson”” he mimicked the quotation marks, “that it holds. Think of regular magic, wizardkind doesn’t use it for evil, well, at least not most, but when it comes to ancient magic, although its practical uses can benefit people greatly, it is...dangerous...and powerful. If the wrong person was to be capable of using it, it would certainly make for a formidable dark wizard or witch. You should go now, and don’t you return until third year, you hear?” he said and the floor on which Orion was standing turned into the same liquid that the arch in the restricted section was. 

Orion was once again transported somewhere, this time in the bedroom of his common room.