Heron

“And I’m sure you were,” said Flitwick the following day, “Peeves likes to make such jokes, though I must say I don’t know why he would choose you for one of his pranks.” 

The poltergeist’s alert had made the Ravenclaw professor question Orion about his whereabouts the previous night. Thankfully, they hadn’t searched for him at the time he was in the trial, so his alibi was strong. Even then, there was still suspicion among the faculty due to the restricted section being unlocked, but since no students had been found and no books were missing, the search ended without a culprit.  

Orion was deep in thought the following few weeks, thinking about what Aurendale had told him. He hadn’t considered his potential abilities as much as he thought he had. What would happen if his parents found out? Would they try to use him? Would his hatred for them make him kill them? Would he be the one who used ancient magic for evil? These thoughts, combined with the increasing number of nightmares he was having every week, were slowly getting to him. More and more he was tired, absent-minded and was once again talking less to his classmates who had now returned from their respective holidays. 

--- 

“Si senor Silas.” Terry teased. 

“Silence, shameless simpleton! Such sly sentences shall swiftly stop.” Silas said strangely sinisterly. 

“Can you two stop? I’m trying to study here.” Caspian was slightly irritated.  

They were in the library, each of them working on the subjects they found hardest. For Silas and Caspian that was History of Magic. They blamed Binns for his lousy teaching methods; for Terry it was Potions. Though he could brew potions well in class, since he was still afraid of Snape, he could not memorize anything the teacher was telling them in terms of theory. 

“Ori, are you okay?” Caspian turned to the boy whose eyes were out of focus. 

“Hmm? Sure.” Orion returned to his body. “It’s seventeen forty-three, not seventeen fifty-eight, by the way.” he said after taking a look at the piece of parchment Caspian was writing on. “Fifty-eight was when Mortimer discovered the castle, not the map.” He had no trouble with any subject and was almost considered a deity among the other three who often relied on his help. 

“Honestly, how do you even remember that?” Silas shook his head and copied down what he had just heard. 

Orion looked around the room to distract himself. What was now referred to as the Gryffindor trio was sitting at a table nearby, Hermione Granger reading something to the other two. 

“-Nicolas Flammel is the only known maker of the Philosopher’s Stone.” yet again the alchemist was being mentioned. 

“You think that’s what the dog is hiding on the third floor?” Harry said in a quiet voice. 

“And more importantly it’s what Snape’s trying to steal.” Ron added, also in a whisper. 

This didn’t add up for Orion. The fact that he’d found out that Quirrell was researching the stone led him to believe he would be the one who would maybe try to steal it, though he was surprised the Gryffindors even thought someone was trying to. As he was asking himself why the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor would possibly try to do that, an image of Snape’s bleeding leg came into his mind. That Halloween night, the Potions master had given Dumbledore a look, but it was more of a “I’ll make sure nothing happens.” rather than anything else. Either that or Snape was a great actor. Maybe he was working with Quirrell. Then there was also the unicorn corpse, which bothered him. The stone could make anyone practically immortal and the blood from the beast could prolong the life of anyone who drank it. Snape didn’t seem like the type to look for eternal life, even if he had mentioned putting a “stopper in death” in his opening speech. Orion also wondered how and why the three Gryffindors knew about Flammel, how they knew there was a dog on the third floor and why they thought the stone was what it was guarding. He couldn’t ask them (even though he didn’t plan to), since they sped out of the library. 

“I mean, you’re really making it difficult, mate.” said Silas, attracting Orion’s attention. 

“Silas, stop.” ordered Caspian. 

“But he’s always looking at her.” 

“It’s none of your business, Si.” Terry sided with Caspian, though he was fully immersed in the book he had open before him. 

“Fine...sorry.” Silas apologized, hiding himself behind his own book, though he still threw glances over it every now and then. 

---  

“Honestly, if you put as much time into studying as you do playing that, I wouldn’t have to tutor you all the time.” Hermione was angry with her two friends who were playing chess again. 

“What’s all the rush for anyway?” asked Ron. 

“Our exams, obviously.” 

“Aren’t they in more than ten weeks?” Ron kept fighting. 

“With the way you’ve been performing, you might need ten more to prepare. Harry, you agree with me it’s good to prepare, right?” she turned to the boy, but he wasn’t one to pick sides when the other two were bickering between each other. 

“You like chess?” a voice Orion hadn’t heard in a while asked. 

“Sure.” he said as Dorian sat opposite him in the Grand Hall, blocking the view to the Gryffindor table. 

“Why don’t we play a game then? I see you’re not particularly busy with studying like the rest of the first-years.” 

Orion didn’t encounter Dorian much in the past few months, only occasionally seeing him in the halls and common room where he seemed to be just like the rest of the students. In fact, the only quarrel he had with the prefect was him insisting he became more active in earning points just to win the House Cup, which was actually a pretty normal thing for a prefect to ask of potential point-scorers, all things considered. 

“I must apologize,” began the sixth-year after making a chess board appear with a spell, “I think we started on the wrong foot. I don’t want to have people around who think of me as “evil” or “adversarial”, e4 (A/N: when a piece isn’t mentioned, it means a pawn is moved to that square).” he began the game. “Ever since my first year, Slytherin has always been the house that wins. I just want us Ravenclaws to get at least one while I’m still here.” 

Orion gave the other look. Dorian was definitely being sincere, there was no malice in his voice nor body language. Unlike how other wizards and witches played chess, Orion picked up his c-pawn (A/N: the pawn that is on the “C” file) and moved it two squares up (c5). 

“You play like a Muggle?” Dorian chuckled in surprise. 

“They are better at the game.” said Orion. 

“Really? Why is that? Knight f3.” he continued to call out his moves. 

“There’s more of them, they invest time and make a profession out of it.” he moved his knight to c6. “They write books and study; they have tournaments and world championships. For wizards this is just a hobby.” 

“Heh. I’m glad.” Dorian smiled earnestly, “You’ve become a lot more talkative. D4. How do you know so much about it anyway? I thought you are a pureblood.” 

“I am.” Orion glanced at the prefect with a rather nasty look as he took the d4 pawn with his. 

“Oh, please don’t misunderstand. My girlfriend is muggleborn...” 

“Does that prevent one from being prejudiced?” 

“Well, I’d say it certainly decreases the possibility. What I meant to say is I’m surprised you’re so knowledgeable in what you referred to as “just a hobby” for wizards. Knight takes d4. Share some more, you’ve certainly piqued my interest. Who are the best at chess?” 

Orion sighed. As the prefect had just said, he was talking quite a bit, but that was only because he adored the game, and so far, had no one else to talk to about it. “I would have said the Soviets, but the Union dissolved last December.” he picked up his queen and placed it on b6 which caused Dorian to raise an eyebrow; this was a move he hadn’t seen before. 

“Really? And what are some other countries that are strong?” 

“The United States had a world champion almost twenty years ago, though he disappeared completely after nineteen seventy-five and didn’t defend his title. Most consider him to be the strongest player ever.” 

“What about you?” after a bit of a think, Dorian played his knight back to b3. 

“I think it’s the current champion – Kasparov. He’s held his title for a while now.” Orion, on the other hand, continued blitzing out his moves and played pawn to e6. 

“You seem quite interested in Muggle affairs; I wouldn’t expect a kid your age to be so well informed in politics, especially theirs. Knight to c3.” 

“They are more fascinating in certain ways.” Orion placed his dark-square bishop in front of his king (e7). Some students were now looking at their game from a distance, two of which – Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley. 

“I get what you mean. Living without magic has led them to develop so much in terms of science. I guess that’s why they’re better at chess, too; magic doesn’t help with it whatsoever; though I am interested, has there ever been a wizard who was world champion?” 

“Ironically enough, Mikhail Tal was.” 

“Why is it ironic?” 

“His nickname is “The Magician from Riga”.” some would say a slight smile emerged for a second on Orion’s face. 

The game between the two ended as most games of chess do – in an uneventful draw, though Dorian had a feeling Orion had once again held back due to the crowd that had gathered to watch them play. “He could have played pawn to b5 and start an attack on the king, since he castled long side.” Ron whispered to Harry at some point in the game. 

“What a wonderful game you two played.” a gentle voice spoke up after the two shook hands. Professor Dumbledore was standing behind Dorian and placed his hands on the prefect’s shoulders. “I dare say, chess is a fantastic game one can immerse themselves in, but I wouldn’t say I’m the biggest fan of it being an individual sport,” he chuckled, “I much prefer watching a player help their teammates.” he looked at the younger Ravenclaw and Orion saw that Dumbledore had a very strange look in his eyes. His head was slightly tilted, and once he was sure he had the boy’s attention, turned to look at Harry and Ron who were walking out of the Great Hall. “Teamwork.” he slightly rubbed Dorian’s shoulders, “I think it’s time for bed, wouldn’t you agree, Mr. Vale?” 

“Certainly, professor.” Dorian stood up and demonstratively ordered the rest of the students to go to their dormitories. 

“Oop, I think this is for you, Mr. Hawthorne.” the headmaster stopped Orion and handed him an envelope. It was not addressed, and the wax seal was flat. The elderly wizard gave the boy a wink and headed for the door near where the teachers usually ate, his long burgundy robes dragging on the floor. 

There are those who seek power and there are those who wish to protect it from falling into the wrong hands. Neither shall succeed, unless the ones who have the means to tilt the scales, pick a side.  

Poison the mouse in the cellar, so that the bar can break its neck. 

Orion looked at the note that was in the envelope with a degree of confusion and slight disgust. The interpretation was pretty clear, but he found it immensely confusing why Dumbledore wouldn’t deal with Quirrell (he found it amusing he would compare him to a rat) himself. The only reason he could come up with is that the wise headmaster knew Orion possessed the ability to use ancient magic, to some degree at the very least, and that was needed to defeat the Dark Arts professor. But was Quirrell really that powerful that Dumbledore couldn’t take him head on? “There aren’t many wizards who could rival hi-” in that moment certain pieces clicked into place. Harry’s constant scar-rubbing in Defense Against the Dark Arts, Quirrell’s odd turban and the hissing that supported his invasion to the Undercroft. Either the teacher was the Dark Lord in disguise, which he found to be unlikely, or he was only partly him. Though this was a plausible answer, it still didn’t satisfy him why Dumbledore would continue to keep such a dangerous being in the school nor why would Snape supposedly support him nor how he knew what Orion was capable of. Was the Potions master a Death Eater? Was the headmaster out of his mind? More and more he was starting to doubt whether the note was not actually a metaphorical message, but rather a plea for help with a rodent infestation in the kitchen. 

---  

“Merlin’s be- boy, am I glad to see you.” the portrait of Gerald Aurendale jumped at the sight of Orion entering the chamber. “When I said you shouldn’t come until your third year, I was expecting you wouldn’t listen. These past few weeks made me worry you were going to follow what I told you. There’s so much we must discuss...why did you come, by the way?”  

“I wanted to know if it’s possible for a person to...merge with another.” the boy didn’t know how exactly to express the issue. 

“Pffft. Of course.” Aurendale scoffed, “Everything is...well, back when I was alive bringing back people from the dead was not something we thought possible, but I’m sure by now that creepy portal has been studied well enough.” 

“What portal?” 

“Ugh, you mean to tell me they still haven’t made it public? Forget I said anything. Yes, it is very much possible to merge souls into one body. In fact, it’s something that requires the use of ancient magic. How do you- more importantly, why are you asking about this?” 

“I think there might be someone at the school who has done it.” 

“A student?” Aurendale’s voice went high pitch in his surprise. 

“A professor.” 

Gerald frowned at the response. “Who? And what makes you think that?” 

Orion read the letter and explained the circumstances in as much detail as he could. 

“My good Merlin, I knew Dumbledore was a great wizard, but to think he’s still alive. Most of the faculty quickly forgot about Atticus’s heroics once he entered Hogwarts. Does anyone else know of your abilities? Have you told anyone?” 

“No.” Orion said coldly. 

“Not even your parents?” Aurendale was surprised at this. 

Orion looked away with pure resentment on his face which the portrait read properly. 

“I see. Good. You mustn’t tell a soul, unless you are more than a hundred percent sure they won’t spread it around. To answer your question, merging souls is not something I will teach you, not while you are at school...not that I can teach you, I can only tell you what Atticus told me. Weaking that merge is a bit simpler in terms of theory, but no less difficult in terms of practice. Here.” he waved his hand and from the glass floor emerged a pensive, the water in it already moving and sparkling. 

Orion looked at Aurendale who gave him an inviting nod, and once he had dipped his head, he was transported in a white room. He was in a hospital and an elderly woman was lying on a bed, looking quite weak. His grandfather was staying beside her, he had also aged and was shaking his head. 

“Please don’t, Atticus.” spoke the woman after the man put his wand against her chest. He was biting his lips, holding back tears. “Please.” she closed her eyes as though all the power in her body was leaving her. 

Atticus didn’t listen and as he slowly began to pull his wand away, a dark energy (A/N: for the lack of better word) followed it. Just as he put it inside his own chest, Orion was transported out of the memory. 

“I didn’t want to show you this.” Aurendale was purposefully not looking Orion in the eyes and spoke with regret in his voice. “This is what you must never do, under no circumstances. I probably should have kept it secret, but if this “Dark Lord” is worse than Grindelwald, I fear you must use it. But only this once.” 

“What was that?” Orion implored. “Who was that with my grandfather?” 

“That was your great-great-grandmother. What you saw was her last day. I’m sure you know by now that with ancient magic you can extract emotions from people. What you saw was the extraction of a soul. I can’t tell you what it feels like nor what it does to someone who accepts the soul. After Amelia’s death, Atticus didn’t change a lot, at least not while he was around me; but he grew weaker, more often he fell sick. I think that’s why he gave me that memory. Either way, what you must do is quite simple really.” the portrait regained a bit of energy. “If you can manifest ancient magic through spells, you just have to curse an object. If I can recall correctly, there was a book on how to do that in the restricted section.” 

“That won’t be necessary.” 

“Hoh?” Aurendale let out at Orion’s confident statement. “I don’t know how you’re going to achieve the spell, however. Those suits of armor don’t have a soul to practice extraction on. On the topic of practice, show me some of those spells you speak of, I want to see what they look like.” 

After making a pillar rise from the ground and then disintegrating it with the other spell, the boy felt tired. 

“I must say that looked nothing like Atticus’s. I’m not even sure that’s ancient magic, but then you wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t.” Aurendale scratched his head and after some time spoke again. “My hypothesis is the magic you produce is half-half, so to speak. There are already spells that manipulate earth, there are spells that can disintegrate and so on; it’s just that ancient magic is so much stronger and “easier” to perform. Go rest now, I can see that you casting these takes a toll. As for what you’re going to do about that Quirrell professor, I don’t know yet.” 

Throughout the rest of the weeks, Orion kept coming to practice in the portrait chamber in front of Gerald Aurendale. Though he could now cast the two spells more easily (Aurendale said he wouldn’t help with others, stating they were for further trials), he still couldn’t cast them without an incantation and, to what had now become his teacher, they still didn’t look proper.  

“Have you figured out what to do with that professor of yours? I hope you’ve had time to study for your exams as well.” asked the portrait one day in June. 

“My only choice is to curse his books in the Undercroft.” said Orion while decaying yet another detailed stone statue he had conjured. 

“I’m still curious, though, how does he know of that room. Atticus told me only the Gaunt family and those they deemed trustworthy knew of its existence, and yet you said the Gaunts had died.” he furrowed his eyebrows as an idea suddenly came into his head, “Do you know the Riddle family name? I believe I heard some incident occurred with them and the Gaunts while I still worked at the ministry.” 

“No, I haven’t heard that name.” 

“Pity. Maybe they have something to do with this.” 

---  

“Ameliohore.” was the name of the spell to use on Quirrell that Orion came up with. He still had not tried it on anything and doubted it would work. When he entered the Undercroft one day after his Charms exam where Flitwick made them enchant a pineapple to dance, he saw that a note was written on the table beside the two books. 

Beast: Music 

Devil’s Snare 

Chess 

Those were the three strange items on the list. Orion didn’t understand what they meant but didn’t waste time. He cast the spell and to his surprise and relief a cold, deep blue light came out of his wand and hit the book he was aiming at. He cast another spell to send the book flying onto the floor, so as to make sure Quirrell touched it.  

It wasn’t until the last exams had passed that anything interesting happened. Until then, Orion was stuck studying with Caspian, Silas and Terry who were joined by the rest of the first-years in Sue Li, Lisa Turpin, Padma Patil, Mandy Brocklehusrt and Michael Corner who despite sleeping in the same bedroom as the Ravenclaw boys, didn’t really talk to them, instead making friends with several Hufflepuff and Gryffindor students. While Orion was walking through the halls, listening to the other three moan about how glad they were exams were over, he saw McGonagall dropping a pile of books with pure shock on her face while she was talking to Harry, Ron and Hermione. He stopped for a second to hear and see what was going on. 

“Professor Dumbledore will be back tomorrow,” the professor said picking herself and the books up, “I don’t know how you found out about the Stone, but rest assured, no one can possibly steal it, it’s too well protected.” she said confidently and walked away. 

“It’s tonight.” said Harry, once he thought he couldn’t be heard. “Snape’s going through the trapdoor tonight. He’s found out everything he needs and now he’s got Dumbledore out of the way. He sent that note, I bet the Ministry of Magic will get a real shock when Dumbledore turns up.” 

Orion still didn’t know why the three were suspecting Snape, maybe they had also noticed the wound he had on Halloween. Either way, he now had valuable information that Dumbledore was not in the school, and he had also deduced that the Gryffindors would try to protect the stone themselves. Orion had done everything the headmaster had asked of him, and though he felt like he should also go see for himself how things would resolve tonight, he convinced himself to trust the wise old wizard. 

Sure enough, the next day while he was sitting in the library, which at this point had very few people in it, he got interrupted by Caspian who came rushing in. It didn’t help that the weather was incredibly hot, so the poor boy was sweating bullets. 

“H-Harry Potter is in the – in the hospi-hospital wing.” he barely said through the many pants, his hands on his knees. 

“So?” Orion looked from behind his book’s covers. 

“Also, apparently Quirrell has left the school without an explanation.” Caspian said, putting his hands on the table to support himself. 

This triggered a reaction in Orion. 

“Madam Pomfrey hasn't let anyone in, not even Ron and Granger. He still hasn’t regained consciousness. Maybe they’ll let us in tomorrow. You want to come?” 

“No.” Orion lied. 

On the third day, once everyone had already unsuccessfully tried to visit and left him gifts and get-well cards, Orion also decided to try his luck. If the matron didn’t let him, he’d find a way to sneak in. 

“I’m afraid I must tell you the same I tell everyone else, n-” 

“He’s with me.” said Dumbledore grabbing Orion’s shoulders. 

“By all means then.” Madam Pomfrey bowed but gave Orion a suspicious look anyways. 

Harry was still lying in his bed with closed eyes. Orion had his hands in his pocket and was waiting for the headmaster to begin explaining. 

“Harry here,” he began as though having read his mind, “is a very unfortunate child. Quite similar to you. You must know by now he lost both his parents shortly after his first birthday. A tragic day indeed.” he spoke with a solemn voice as he sat on Harry’s bed. “What most don’t know is how he survived. Just before she died, Harry’s mother Lily sacrificed herself for him, unleashing a very powerful protection spell on him. So powerful it even stopped the killing curse. I’m sure you already know this protection he has is pure ancient magic.” 

“I’ve been meaning to ask how you knew..., professor?” Orion cut him off, nearly forgetting to add the honorific. 

“I started my first year at Hogwarts all the way back in eighteen ninety-two, the same year your great-great-grandfather was in his seventh. While many have now forgotten him, I remember him quite well. Though he never shared his secrets with me personally, believe it or not, back then I was a bit of a rule breaker like our friend Harry here, so I managed to overhear him talking to Professor Weasley one night. I wasn’t sure whether or not you also possessed his abilities until you entered the Aurendale manor.” 

“How di-” 

“Who do you think takes care of that phoenix? A house elf by the name of Deek told me. He didn’t know it was you, but I managed to figure it out.” he chuckled. “I assume you’re here to know whether your part worked?” he playfully raised an eyebrow. “It did. The reason for Quirrell’s death and Voldemort’s partial defeat was the weakened link between body and soul, though I’m afraid this will probably not be the last we hear of him. I must also thank you, for if Voldemort’s soul had not been so weak, Harry could have died. Now, if you’ll excuse us, I think he’s just about to wake up.”  

Orion left the room, somewhat satisfied at the answers he received. He didn’t see Harry again until the closing feast.  

The room had been decorated in Slytherin colors and banners, but Dumbledore gave four Gryffindor students “last minute points” which pushed Gryffindor into first place, causing a change of scenery and atmosphere as the lions roared in victory. 

“At least it wasn’t Slytherin again.” Dorian said to Orion in the common room that night, with deep regret in his voice. “I wish you luck on your exam results tomorrow, though I know you won’t need it.” 

That night Orion couldn’t sleep well. The next day he would have to return home to the two people he hated more than anyone in the world. He snuck out of the dormitory, wishing to take a breath of fresh air outside the castle. As he was walking down a hall he felt was out of place, a displayed item in an open room lured him in. It was a tall mirror with two clawed feet supporting it at the bottom. The ornate golden frame attracted anyone’s gaze towards the inscription at the top “Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi”. It took three seconds for Orion to figure out it was backwards. He didn’t find it shocking when he looked into the mirror and saw the room around him clear as day with his reflection missing. More than anything in the world he wanted to not be in it.