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Part Two

“You’ll want to make sure that your new husband is comfortable.”

Orion spun around with a startled yelp. “Mother, don’t do that to me!” He never knew how she managed to sneak up on him all the time. And he hoped to be able to ignore the last words that she’d just spoken.

Melania Black looked at him for a long moment before peering at Harry on Orion’s bed. She had silver hair, but she’d had that since she was twenty, from what Orion had heard. Her brilliant black eyes were all her own, and they were full of fire right now.

“I was practicing my runes in the tapestry room when I saw lines sprout from your name, Orion. Were you really going to hide this from me?”

Orion took a deep breath, the main thought on his mind that he really hated that bloody tapestry. “No. But…it’s more complicated than you know.”

“I suspected that, once I saw that you were married to a Malfoy and a Potter whose name I don’t recognize.”

“He’s a time traveler. Abraxas is just Abraxas, though.”

Orion winced a second later. Mother had always had the ability to make him babble like a child. He stood straight and awaited her judgment on him.

Mother looked at him with the kind of thoughtfulness that Orion hadn’t seen since he’d come home from his seventh year at Hogwarts and announced that he was a Knight of Walpurgis and would follow Tom Riddle. “How did he travel through time, Orion?”

“We—did a ritual. I mean, Abraxas and I.”

“Why?”

Orion swallowed. He had hoped that this would never need to happen, that the ritual would work the way he and Abraxas had intended and Riddle would take on the burden of confronting their parents when Orion’s mother and father, or Livia and Hadrian Malfoy, tried to pressure them to get married or take up a certain career. But it hadn’t happened. Harry was unconscious, Riddle wasn’t bound, and Abraxas had gone home to explain the marriage to his parents. It had to be up to Orion.

“I don’t want to get married to Walburga.”

“And why not?”

Orion winced. Mother was harder to deal with when she wasn’t angry, just speaking in this implacably calm way of hers that was like water wearing its way through a stone. “I don’t like her personality or her temperament or her magic. I want to do something important in the world, and Walburga would tie me down and make sure that I never thought about anything but the Black family’s concerns.”

“All right.”

“What?”

“I said, all right.” Mother smiled at him, a small smile that had a wealth of unhappiness behind it, and which Orion had never seen before. “I was only waiting for you to give me a good reason not to betroth you to Walburga, Orion. You kept telling me a number of false ones, such as that you wished to go traveling, which would have prevented an immediate marriage but not a betrothal. And you never made preparations to leave Britain, in any case.”

Orion gaped at her and said nothing. He’d been so afraid of standing up to his parents, and it just…

It just took courage? And honesty?

“I just—didn’t want to get married right away,” he whispered. Mother came up to him and clasped his hand, and they stood staring in at Harry as he rested in Orion’s bedroom. Orion took a deep breath. “Well, that objective failed, didn’t it?”

“Yes, rather.” Mother’s voice was low and had a hint of laughter to it. “But it does seem as though these spouses will suit you better than Walburga would have.”

“How can you say that, Mother? I don’t like Abraxas. I don’t know Harry.”

“But you have emotional and telepathic bonds as a result of the marriage ritual, don’t you?”

Orion nodded choppily. He could feel the bonds tying him to Abraxas and Harry, tightening the closer he got to them, loosening as he moved further away. For all that it didn’t hurt, exactly, to be separated from them, he had still felt a sharp tug when Abraxas disappeared through the Floo to Malfoy Manor.

“That will help.” Mother leaned against Orion for a moment and hugged him hard with one arm around his waist. “I think you’re right that Walburga wouldn’t have let you look towards the wider world, but would have focused you too sharply on the concerns of the family. Now you have people who will grow your mind and soul, if only because they will bring their own perspectives to the bond and expand your mental horizons.”

Orion closed his eyes. He reached towards Harry and felt the blackness of sleep. But there was still unhappiness drifting around on his end of the bond, and Orion swallowed as he felt the desperate desire to soothe Harry’s pain.

Abraxas, at the moment, felt startled. Orion pushed a little emotional strength towards him down the bond. Maybe the confrontation with the older Malfoys wouldn’t be so bad. Maybe Livia Malfoy would be understanding like Mother. Maybe Hadrian Malfoy wouldn’t think badly of his son for marrying two pureblood men instead of a pureblood woman the Malfoy family had chosen.

*

“Were you out of your mind, Abraxas?”

Abraxas cringed. Mother didn’t raise her voice, but that was because she didn’t need to. Her eyes and tone were both made of diamond, and drilling in.

“I—we just wanted—to bind Tom Riddle to considering us his most valuable servants.”

“Why?”

Father hadn’t spoken up until this point. He was sitting in the blue wingback chair that was his favorite seat on the entirety of the first floor, his hand over his eyes. Now he still kept his hand over his eyes, but parted his fingers to glare at Abraxas.

Abraxas took a deep breath. “We know that Riddle is preparing to travel, and we feared that he might replace us among his servants. We didn’t want that. We want to be the most important ones.”

“And you told him about this?”

Abraxas looked at the floor.

“Abraxas.”

His parents spoke at the same time. His father sounded despairing, his mother disgusted. Abraxas swallowed and tried not to shrink down into himself.

Yes, mistakes had been made. But he had to live with this now, just like his parents and Orion’s parents and Orion and Harry would have to. The bonds couldn’t be undone. Criticizing him for past mistakes was—unproductive. Yes, he would phrase it to his parents that way, Abraxas thought as he lifted his head.

“Don’t give me that look, Abraxas Hadrian Malfoy.”

Abraxas promptly drooped. His mother was on her feet and walking towards him, her nose wrinkled. She clasped his chin and turned his head back and forth as if looking for answers in his face as to why he was so stupid.

Then she dropped his chin and straightened with a sigh. Her eyes were a pale blue and focused very far away. “Since the marriage is an inevitability, and it is also inevitable that people will find out about it,” she said crisply, “we will handle this as we must.”

“What does that mean, Mother?” Abraxas had the sense to be more than a little alarmed about the tone in her voice.

“We will announce it to the papers and claim that you have used the Seeking Hearts Ritual.”

Abraxas choked. That particular ritual was one that people used when they wanted to find the loves of their lives. “Mother, maybe we should—”

“Do not give me that look, Abraxas Hadrian Malfoy. You caused this problem, and the least you can do is move out of the way while I become the solution.” Mother gave him a headshake and walked out of the room, back straight and head up.

Abraxas looked, a little helplessly, at his father. At least he had taken his hand from his face. He leaned forwards and examined Abraxas from hood to boots, then shook his own head and—gave him a smile?

“Father?”

“I don’t approve of this,” Father said. “But this is a blessing in one way.”

“What’s that, Father?”

“Your mother and I could not agree on which marriage and career to push you towards. There are lovely pureblood women without a brain in their heads, and some who are smart but crass, and some who would defend you but also subjugate you, and some whose wealth is far greater than their personalities. We thought we would have to choose among the best of a bad crop.”

“I—I thought that Malfoys have married half-bloods in the past.”

“All the acceptable half-bloods have the same problems, or worse,” Father said carelessly. “But now you’ve solved the problem. Marriage first. Career later.”

“I don’t know what I want to do yet.”

“That’s why it’ll wait for later,” Father said, and patted him on the shoulder before sweeping from the room in Mother’s wake.

Abraxas was left to blink at the wall and wonder why that had been so much less dramatic than he’d been anticipating.

*

Harry didn’t want to wake up.

The whiteness had surrounded and cradled him, and it could go on doing that forever, as far as he was concerned. He didn’t want to return to missing his friends. He didn’t want to return to hunting Death Eaters. He didn’t want to return to the strange world he had dreamed about, where he was married to Orion Black and Abraxas Malfoy.

But his eyes opened even when he was telling them not to.

Harry rolled over and stared blankly for a long moment at the wall. There was a framed photograph there of a young girl with dark hair, in a snow-white dress, who danced across some grass and plucked a rose. It repeated again and again, and Harry sighed. Yes, he was definitely somewhere magical.

“Are you all right?”

Harry rolled back over and blinked in surprise when he saw the woman standing in the doorway. He had thought, from the voice, that it was Black—Orion. Their tones and wording sounded almost exactly alike.

“I don’t know,” Harry said, the only honest answer.

The woman nodded and walked into the room. Despite the long silver hair flowing over her shoulders, she moved like she was fairly young. She took a chair that Harry hadn’t noticed standing next to the bed and leaned over to put her hand on his arm. “My name is Melania Black, and I’m your mother-in-law.”

It wasn’t a dream. Harry shut his eyes and tried to withdraw, but Mrs. Black’s hand tightened.

“Please don’t do that,” she said with gentle force. “I know that this must be horrible and overwhelming for you, but hiding from the situation will make it worse, not better. I saw it on the family tapestry, and so did my husband, although he’s agreed to let me handle it for now. Other people will soon find out. We need to think about our defense.”

“We don’t need to if you can find a way to end this marriage,” Harry said, still keeping his eyes shut.

“Why would I want to end it?”

She sounded bewildered. Harry opened his eyes, feeling the same thing. “Because…this can’t be your dream, right? To have your son married to two other people, and one of them a time-traveling half-blood from the future?”

He hoped that the mention of him being a half-blood would make her drop his arm and scoot away. Then he could at least have some sort of peace to figure this out.

“Two other people is unusual, especially in the last century, but not a disaster,” Mrs. Black said, and smiled at him, keeping her hand firmly in place on his arm. “And three people are better than two for producing a child with magic.”

“What.”

“The rituals can produce a child with powerful magic, if the magic and heart and will of all the three parents is combined,” Mrs. Black said, nodding, seeming to see through the walls with her distant eyes. “Again, they haven’t been used much in the last century. Pureblood families have been inclined to tell their children to produce a child from somewhere before they marry a man or a woman. Illegitimacy is less of a problem than having no children at all. And few are strong enough to use the rituals with only two people. But I should think the addition of the three of you would work wonders.”

“But I’m a half-blood!”

“Why do you assume we would care about that?”

“The Black family where I came from sure did,” Harry said, not really managing to hide his bitterness. Of course Sirius had been wonderful, and Regulus had turned against Voldemort in the end, but the mere memory of Walburga’s shrieking portrait dimmed that.

I’ll probably meet Walburga in this timeline, knowing my luck.

“We care more about power,” Mrs. Black said, and shook her head a little. “I am glad that none of us will ever travel to that time.”

“But I need to, don’t I?”

“There is no way to break the marriage bonds, dear,” Mrs. Black said, and the impact of being called dear made Harry have to turn his head away. “We’ll all live with it. I hope that you’ll have a more pleasant time of it than you perhaps originally feared, given Abraxas and Orion’s abrupt yanking of you from your own time.”

“But they didn’t want me.”

“Yes, I know. Orion told me. They meant to bind Riddle. Foolish.” She sighed. “He had me check the runes they used in the ritual, but he didn’t tell me what they were for.”

“But aren’t you upset that they got me instead?”

“No.” Mrs. Black smoothed hair back from his forehead and studied his scar as if it was a stroke of paint on a canvas. “This is the best way to resolve the situation. I was worried about Orion falling under Riddle’s influence, but afraid that he would only see me as an interfering mother if I objected. I knew that he didn’t want a betrothal to his cousin, but not why. I wanted a better future for him, but I didn’t know where it would come from. Now I do.”

Harry started to respond, finding it hard to believe he was anyone’s preferred future, but there was a soft crack and a house-elf appeared behind Mrs. Black. “Madam Melenia, Madam Livia Malfoy is being here,” the elf said.

Harry eyed her. The elf watched him right back. She was taller than Kreacher and had brilliant red eyes that made Harry shiver a little, thinking of Voldemort. The hair that projected from her ears was long and bright red as well and carefully groomed.

“Ah, yes, I was expecting her. Please show her up, Ellie.” As the elf disappeared, Mrs. Black added to Harry, “Livia is Abraxas’s mother.”

“She’s going to be angry, right?”

“I believe that she might have had some of the same concerns that I did, and some of the same relief that they are now solved.”

“But she might be angry, right?”

“She might. But I am here. Don’t worry, Harry. I’ll defend you.”

*

Orion stood most of the way down the corridor from his own bedroom, under a Disillusionment Charm, craning his neck as he watched Madam Livia sweep in to the room to join Mother and Harry. Harry’s side of the bond was tense and watery with worry, fear, anger, and what felt like exhaustion.

Orion tried to send some reassurance. It got shoved back at him so hard that he got woozy.

Not reassurance of Harry’s own. Rejection of his reassurance.

Orion caught his breath and tried not to get upset. They were in this together, he thought. Yes, he and Abraxas had made a mistake, and they would have sent Harry back where he’d come from if that had been possible (although since he’d been dead, why would he want to go back to that state?) But now they had to live with things.

For some reason, maybe just an impression he’d picked up through the bonds, Orion had thought Harry was good at accepting the inevitable and living with the impossible. But he could easily have been wrong about that.

He’d have to wait and see.

He’d been afraid that the mothers would shut the door of his bedroom, but they didn’t, and so he heard Madam Livia say, “So this is what we have to work with.”

“So sorry to be a disappointment,” Harry said. Sneered, really.

Orion put a hand over his mouth to keep from exploding in choking, nervous laughter. The last person who had tried to speak to Madam Livia like that had ended up resigning from the Ministry in shame before the year was over. Orion hadn’t known it was possible to speak to her like that!

There was a long silence. Then Madam Livia said, sounding pleased, “Ah. You will be the fire.”

“Beg your bloody pardon?”

“Trying to irritate me like that won’t work, Mr. Potter. Or, well, I suppose your name would be Potter-Malfoy-Black now. We will have to choose a certain shorter combination for the public announcement.”

More silence. Then Harry said, with the bond in Orion’s head flickering and dancing as if it were made of flames, “Please explain to me what you mean by that, Mrs. Malfoy.”

“I prefer Madam Livia.”

“Fine.”

“Abraxas and Orion are water and earth in the wheel of the elements,” Madam Livia said, and Orion rolled his eyes involuntarily. Oh, not this old thing again. “Abraxas’s nature is to flood and crest at certain times, and roll away passively at others. Orion is sturdier, but still lies there and hopes to go unnoticed.”

I do not!

Then Orion thought about the way that he had believed avoiding any discussion of his possible betrothal to Walburga with his parents would solve the problem, and scowled to himself.

“It was one reason why we never considered a betrothal between them after they became friends at Hogwarts, besides the child-creating rituals having fallen out of favor. They are simply too damp and earthy to create a successful marriage by themselves. They needed one of the other elements, and there was no one we considered suitable.

“But you bring the fire they need. You’ll challenge us, while Orion avoids his parents as much as he can and Abraxas puts us off and then tries to distract us. And you have the protective instinct that they were apparently seeking in that silly ritual. Yes, you’ll do well.”

“What if I don’t want to stay in this marriage?”

Orion winced as something seemed to hurt the lining of his heart.

“Do you think you could break the bonds?” Madam Livia just sounded interested. “I suppose you wouldn’t believe that you couldn’t until you tried. Very well, you should go ahead and try.”

There was more silence. Orion closed his eyes, trying to picture the way Harry would look right now, and could almost see him sitting on the bed, his hands clenched into fists and his own eyes shut.

Orion waited for the shivering and shattering of the bonds. If anyone could break them, it would be someone who had survived the Killing Curse three times.

But other than a brief flurry of alarm from Abraxas, like a wave breaking apart into foam on a rock, nothing happened. Then Harry finally groaned, his voice rough and low and almost angry, “I can’t.”

“You can keep trying, if you want,” Madam Livia said briskly. “The bonds are immovable. You won’t hurt them. But it could strengthen your magic, the way certain exercises will, and in the meantime, we’ll help you recover, take you to a healer, get you some new robes, ensure that you can take your NEWTS here—”

“What if I don’t want that?”

“You want to be a social outcast the rest of your life? Or a hermit?”

“Of course not!”

“You won’t be able to get many jobs if you don’t have good NEWT scores, Harry,” Mother said reassuringly. “Or at least some NEWT scores. You will need good clothes to go out in public, and I want you to be seen by a Healer. Surviving three Killing Curses must leave some impact on you.”

“No one ever looked before.”

Orion shut his eyes, his heart aching. It wasn’t heartache that came down from Harry’s side of the bond, though. It was just pain.

“Well, they shall look now,” Madam Livia proclaimed. “And you will have much to do if you want to become an Auror trainee in this time.” From the delicate tone of her voice, picking up the words as if she were picking up insects with sugar tongs, she didn’t recommend it. “But NEWTS are first and most important, so that you can prove you have the right to any job you wish.”

“Won’t I have to do a lot of studying?”

“I don’t see why, dear,” Mother said. Orion had wondered if he would resent hearing that word spoken to someone other than him or Lucretia, but he found it relaxing instead. Mother had fully accepted Harry, that was clear. “You’re close to the same age as Orion and Abraxas, so you must have just finished Hogwarts—”

“Um.”

“Did you not finish Hogwarts?” asked Madam Livia’s forbidding voice.

“I was sort of on a quest to defeat a Dark Lord at the time. And then I was famous for that, and they didn’t make me take my NEWTS before I became a trainee Auror. They needed me to fight the followers of the Dark Lord.”

Orion swallowed and reached out gently to send more reassurance down the bond. Of course Harry had told them some of that yesterday, but that wasn’t the same as hearing that he’d sacrificed his seventh year at Hogwarts because of it.

“They relied on a teenager to fight a Dark Lord?” Mother sounded appalled.

“Preposterous. Whoever was Minister at the time should have had their neck broken.”

“Uh,” Harry said, sounding shocked. But he hadn’t rejected Orion’s reassurance, and he didn’t actually contradict Madam Livia. Maybe he was just surprised to hear someone else repeating what he’d secretly thought, Orion realized, grinning.

“Neck. Broken,” Madam Livia repeated, and Orion knew her well enough to hear the crisp nod in her words. “Not fatal, possible to cure with magic, but requiring a long stay in St. Mungo’s, where they will be kept safely out of the way of sensible people.”

Harry, for some reason, was relaxing. Orion didn’t really know why, but he was distracted by the sudden tightening of his bond with Abraxas. It appeared that Abraxas had come through the Floo downstairs and was now sneaking up the back steps to the second floor.

“I would have liked to have that happen,” Harry murmured.

“Of course you would have. And you will get to see it happen if anyone threatens your marriage.”

“I—I’m a half-blood, Madam Livia.”

“So?”

“I thought you would be a blood purist. Most of the Malfoys I knew in my time were,” Harry said, and his bewilderment came flooding down the bond. Abraxas crept up beside Orion and looked at him with raised eyebrows. Orion raised his wand in response and cast the Disillusionment Charm since Abraxas was too distracted to do it himself.

He didn’t need to see the half-hidden scowl; he could feel it well enough. Orion smirked back.

“I am a power purist,” Madam Livia declared. “And you fit into this triad marriage, and you are powerful enough, adding your magic to Orion’s and Abraxas’s, to give me grandchildren. That is all I care about.”

Think she would care if Harry was a Mudblood? Abraxas asked down the bond.

Even knowing that Harry couldn’t hear thoughts they sent solely to each other, Orion winced. Don’t call them that.

Oh. Because you think Harry’s mum was one?

Yes!

Abraxas sighed. Bloody hell, that’s going to be annoying.

Orion just rolled his eyes. So far, everything had been going amazingly well. He wondered if that was going to change in the next little while.

*

“Seriously, Harry, you look wonderful in green.”

Abraxas lowered his voice a little. For all that they could use their thoughts to communicate down the bond, Harry seemed most affected—and most susceptible—when Abraxas spoke to him physically. Orion didn’t get the same reaction, Abraxas had been noting smugly.

“I don’t know,” Harry said doubtfully, staring into the mirror and turning so he was looking at the deep green robes over his shoulder. “I think it brings out my eyes too much.”

“We wish to bring out your eyes,” Mother said from where she was sitting on a chair close to the door of Goldenwear, which she had persuaded to close while they were there with Harry. “They are your most handsome feature.”

Harry smiled at her in the mirror. Abraxas couldn’t figure out why Harry was so at ease with Mother when she was so effortlessly intimidating, but he supposed he ought to be glad that Mother go along well with one of her sons-in-law. “Thank you, Madam Livia.”

“A set in blue and a set in a slightly darker green,” Mother told the sewing wizard, who nodded and scurried off.

Harry gave a little sigh as he looked into the mirror. Abraxas shifted closer to him. “Did you never have fine robes like this before?” he asked softly. He supposed that could be true, but it seemed strange. If Harry was as much of a celebrity in his former timeline as he’d told them, why wouldn’t he wear them?

“I grew up with Muggle relatives who didn’t like me,” Harry said absently, still staring into the mirror. “They had me wear my cousin’s castoffs instead.”

“That is outrageous.”

“Thank you, Madam Livia.”

Abraxas slowly straightened up. He had been ready to cower from Mother’s rage, but she was already settling back in the chair, staring at the far wall and doubtless plotting the ruination of Muggles she would never meet. It hadn’t been as bad with Harry here as it would have been if her temper had been left to explode into shards on its own.

And he wasn’t as afraid with the bond to Harry humming steadily in the back of his mind, either.

Huh.

Abraxas leaned back against the wall with his arms folded and watched Harry try on more robes and Mother comment on them, and Harry make more absent revelations about the way he’d grown up or the way people had treated him and Mother grow angry. Halfway through the conversation, Harry looked at Abraxas and closed one eye in a wink.

You’re doing it on purpose! Abraxas exclaimed.

Of course I am. I’m tired of feeling like I’m drowning every time she says something. You don’t need to be that afraid of her. She loves you.

She’s never treated me the way she treats you.

Have you tried standing up to her? I think that’s what she wants.

Abraxas never had, and he stood there and scowled while the conversation continued, thinking of it. Just because he’d been a Slytherin rather than a Gryffindor didn’t mean he was a coward, and—

“Abraxas!”

He couldn’t stop himself from jumping, but instead of stuttering nervously the way he usually would have when Mother called his name, he looked at her and said in a different kind of low voice than the one’d used with Harry, “Yes, Mother?”

Mother blinked and looked at him carefully, but didn’t explode. She only said, “Please stay here and make sure that Harry continues to find the most beautiful robes while I go and make arrangements for lunch.”

“Of course, Mother.”

Abraxas watched his mother leave, feeling stunned. Harry snorted behind him, and Abraxas spun around, saying down the bond, It’s not that simple! You would understand if your mother was the same way!

“My mother died when I was one year old, killed by the same Dark Lord who tried to kill me,” Harry said, his eyes locked on Abraxas’s. The shop attendants became exceedingly busy with other things. “So yes, I don’t have a basis for comparison, but I appreciate your mother anyway.”

Abraxas blinked, and blinked again. Then he said, Thank you for distracting her, at least.

He got a hesitant feeling from Harry, and then a flicker that was almost more thought than words, but which he understood as You’re welcome.

Abraxas smiled, and went to pick out a cream robe with golden edgings that he hadn’t dared pick up when his mother was in the shop, but which he thought Harry would look absolutely brilliant in.

He was right, too.

*

“So you’re my brother-in-law.”

Harry blinked and glanced up from where he’d been talking with Orion, slowly and hesitantly, about the differences between the Grimmauld Place of his own time and this one. The girl he’d seen in the picture in Orion’s bedroom was in the doorway of the library, although she was taller than in the photo. She had piercing eyes, and she considered Harry up and down.

Then she turned to Orion. “He could be taller.”

“Lucy!”

“Don’t call me Lucy!”

This must be Lucretia, then, Orion’s sister. Harry leaned back against the chair he was sitting in as the siblings began to bicker, biting his lip fiercely. They reminded him a little of the twins fighting with Percy, except there was more open affection under the sharp words.

Harry was still getting used to the notion that Orion Black was his husband, but almost harder than that to comprehend was that he was more than the dimly-remembered abusive father of Sirius’s childhood. He was embarrassed all the time, according to the bonds, although he kept that off his face. He adored his mother, but mumbled around her a lot. He obviously loved his sister, and mentioned his father proudly.

Harry hadn’t actually met Arcturus Black yet. Apparently he worked for the Ministry as a Hit Wizard and was off on some kind of mission. Harry half-hoped that the man would approve of him and boost him into the ranks of the Aurors that way.

Harry really did not want to take his NEWTS.

Lost in his thoughts, it took him a moment to realize that Orion and Lucretia had stopped bickering and were staring at him. “What?” Harry asked, drawing back a little defensively. Orion pushed gentleness down the bond. That seemed to be his favorite emotion.

“I just asked Orion whether you were good at Quidditch, and he had to say he didn’t know.” Lucretia’s nose went into the air. “Can you believe that? My very own brother doesn’t know if his very own husband is good at Quidditch.”

“There have been other things on my mind, Lucy.”

“Stop calling me Lucy, or I’m going to tell Harry what my nickname for you is.”

“No!”

“Then stop calling me Lucy.”

Orion seemed to struggle for a moment. Harry found himself biting his lip as he watched. Orion was almost adorable when he was like this, especially because the bond flickered like flame with embarrassment even though his face was stoic and anyone else would think he was only a little reluctant to give up calling his sister the nickname.

“Okay,” Orion said.

Lucretia nodded with satisfaction and turned towards the door of the library.

“Lucy,” Orion muttered under his breath.

He’d probably thought she couldn’t hear, but Lucretia spun around with an angelic smile and said, “I called him Cow when I was little.”

“Cow?” Harry asked, puzzled.

“Shut up, Lucy!”

“Cow,” Lucretia agreed, nodding. “Because I couldn’t pronounce his whole name, so I would say Eye-oh, and then I read about how there was a Greek woman with that name who was turned into a cow. So. Cow.”

“You’re going to be flat on the floor in a second, because I’m going to charge you like a bull!”

“Cooooooow.”

“Shut up!”

Harry lost the battle against his laughter, leaned back against the chair, and let go.

He was aware of both Orion and Lucretia spinning around to stare at him, but he couldn’t stop. He was laughing as much at the ridiculous expression on Orion’s face and the way his bond to Harry was aflame with exasperation as he was about the actual words they were saying. He felt as though he was releasing some of his own fear and anger with the laughter.

He couldn’t stop.

At least, he couldn’t stop until Lucretia conjured cold water and poured it over him.

Harry straightened with an indignant gasp. Lucretia nodded seriously to him. “Good, I’m glad you stopped,” she said. “Because otherwise I might have been afraid that Cow chose a mad one like he did with Riddle—”

“Lucy, shut the fuck up!”

“And we can’t have that,” Lucretia finished serenely before ruining the serenity by sticking out her tongue at Orion. “I am going to tell Mother you said fuck,” she said, and gave both Harry and Orion a radiant smile before she pranced out of the room.

Orion sank back in his chair, hands over his face and muttering. As usual, the bond was bright red with the embarrassment he wouldn’t show on his face. “I’m sorry you had to meet her.”

“Why? I like her.”

Orion narrowed his eyes as he looked at Harry, and the bond turned cool. “Oh, really?”

“Not like a girlfriend, you berk,” Harry said, speaking more honestly and openly than he had since the bond had started. “Just because she’s an annoying sibling. I never got to have one of those, either.”

Orion blinked, and the bond became cool in a different way. “I’m sorry for that, Harry.”

“You don’t have to be, it’s fine.”

“It’s not.” Orion leaned across the space between their chairs and clasped Harry’s hand in his. Harry froze in surprise. Orion peered at him and said softly, “I wish that you’d been able to have that. A mother who loved you, siblings to annoy you. A father to love you. You deserve all of that.”

“I—” Harry couldn’t think of anything to say. Not even Ron and Hermione had spelled it out like that so clearly, although of course they’d known, and they’d wished his life was happier. He swallowed.

Orion smiled at him, squeezed his hand once, and leaned back against the chair just as Mrs. Black came through the door and asked, “Orion, did you swear in front of your sister?”

Lucretia peered at them from behind Mrs. Black’s back, stuck out her tongue at Orion, and winked at Harry.

Part of Harry, which had been coiled and tense for far longer than it had taken him to time travel to the past, slowly stretched out, like a snake in the sun.