Harry Potter : Chapter 44: Turning Point III

My eyebrows climbed into my hairline at the witch's words: "So he isn't an incapable idiot, he simply has difficulties with how Potions is framed as a subject?"

Unfortunately, my voice wasn't quite adequate for polite whispering, and the newcomer heard everything I just said: "I am most certainly not an idiot, no."

...

Orion Black was a capable wizard, and Heir to the Most Ancient and Noble House of Black, incredibly politically savvy for someone his age, he had inherited a stark pragmatism that would one day make him perfect for the role he'd eventually inherit.

The adherence to Slytherin's favored traits was expected of him, and something that Orion took a graceful measure of pride into. That was the reason why he had needed to twist his genuine enjoyment of Charms into a passion for Warding, something that he could excuse to the rest of the family as a wish to make their home unassailable.

Having difficulties in a subject before he took his OWLs, however, was not something he could allow.

Knowing one's self was fundamental for a wizard for a number of reasons, and so Orion kept up his soul-searching while he walked up to the student Slughorn had meant to introduce him to, easily recognizing him. After all, he had been already two meters tall back in his first year, and the boy had kept growing.

"I am most certainly not an idiot, no." Orion's voice announced his presence to the unnaturally tall Slytherin, who didn't have the decency of looking abashed.

"I am Rubeus Hagrid." the deep baritone of the tired-looking third-year Slytherin was out of place on such a young wizard, and yet, it matched his incongruous size perfectly.

Orion barely held back a sneer: "I know."

The Gryffindor witch that so often accompanied herself with the Slytherin student in question introduced herself, and the Heir of House Black smoothly exchanged meaningless platitudes with her and the Potions Professor both, only to frown in distaste and return his attention to the unnaturally tall Slytherin student, which had been looking at him with something that looked like... disappointment?

"How?" Hagrid asked, clarifying once Orion raised an unimpressed eyebrow: "How do you know my name?"

Black sighed inwardly, his thoughts skimming over his own circumstances while he tried to keep back the insults that bubbled to the forefront of his mind.

Excellence in every endeavor he undertook was a trait that he couldn't forfeit: the lesser branches of the family expected just a sign of weakness in order to pounce and take his rightful inheritance of Lordship from him.

Of course, Cygnus, born in 1938, would be raised ready to take over the Blck family in case something happened, while it was up to Orion to make sure his little brother both knew his place and didn't resent him for being the Lord.

Competition bred excellence, in a way, that was why the Founders divided the wards of Hogwarts into Houses. And if the Lord Black to be wasn't able to handle his closest relations, well, then it was simply luck that there were other options, wasn't it?

So, Orion had grown up constantly challenged, learning how to play to his strengths while concealing his weaknesses, and now that he was in his fourth year, he could start to look outwards himself in order to build a power that while not magical, could prove itself endlessly beneficial.

"Has it escaped your attention that we belong to the same House?" Orion Black didn't bother hiding his sarcasm: no matter what Slughorn had told him about this unnaturally sized wizard, for now, he made a perfect impression of a particularly dimwitted troll.

Orion would one day be more than a simply competent wizard, and more than a mere member of the Wizengamot. For that, he'd need allies in as many positions as he could afford, reeling in their support when needed, while offering some form of compensation that would make those people both eager for more and scared of reprisals. Such was the might of the House of Black.

That need meshed wonderfully with Orion's Acceptable in Potions: he needed to bring it up to an Exceed Expectations before the end of the year, or he wouldn't be a Prefect, which meant fewer opportunities to network with those that one day he'd need as allies.

At the same time, the shunned, unnaturally tall half-blood was singularly talented in Potion Making while lacking anything resembling a connection to society.

For all of his jovial attitude, Slughorn was a consummated Slytherin, and recognized an opportunity when he spotted one: by virtue of introducing the two, he'd gain some measure of gratitude from both.

"It hasn't, no." the much taller Slytherin studied Orion with unnerving focus, his dark eyes roaming over his form with barely hidden amusement, "You're surprisingly controlled for someone so little."

Black spluttered, his focus and half-conscious meditation disrupted by the non-sequitur. And I that I worried about pointing out his freakishness! Orion opened his mouth to put in his place the tall Slytherin student, when he caught it: expectation.

He had been subjected to far too many hidden tests in his life, from far too many people, to not recognize a challenge when he was subjected to one. Does he want to see how I'll react?

Before he could reply, however, the third-year Slytherin kept talking, turning towards their Head of House, which was almost glaring at the unnaturally sized wizard.

"We'll figure something out that is beneficial to both, Professor. Thank you for introducing us."

"Oh, well," Slughorn produced his standard soft laugh, something that sent his double chin wobbling minutely, "if you must thank me, I'll have you know that I have a favorite sweet..."

Orion tuned out the downplaying of Horace's networking skills, his focus returning to the unnaturally tall student that proceeded to down another couple of adequately sized glasses of wine, and a third once their Head of House's improvised speech kept going: "Well, I'm not one for purchasing gifts, professor."

McGonagall reminded everyone of her presence then: "You brewed a new one?"

A new what? Black frowned in distaste at being cut off from the conversation, but he immediately plastered a relaxed expression over his features. He knew how to conduct a verbal exchange, and it wasn't the time to steer his interlocutors to a new topic.

Not when the unnaturally tall Slytherin extracted a single vial from one of his inner pockets, a vial containing a lump of grey fur.

"Not quite." the grin on Rubeus' face was just to wide to come off as not-threatening, but Slughorn accepted the vial with undisguised curiosity, his eyes not managing to spot the flash of... something... on the younger student's face.

"By Merlin's..." Horace' voice went out then while he held the vial up against the light given by a crystal lamp, "Is this truly..?"

"Freshly picked too." the deep chuckle of the too-tall Slytherin student made Orion's ribcage rumble uncomfortably for a second.

"I have no idea what to do with it, but I also wanted to have a unique thank you for the many opportunities that you offered me thus far, professor."

The vial disappeared into the deep pockets of Slughorn almost faster than Orion could see, and the professor exchanged a sly glance with the third-year student, before taking in the quickly emptying room.

"Oh, well, since it's just us..." he started walking toward one end of the room, immediately followed by both Minerva and Rubeus.

"You mentioned brews?" Orion smoothly inserted himself into the conversation while he took notice that the cohort of fools catering to Riddle had decided to leave.

McGonagall's cheeks reddened minutely as she blinked in his direction, blatantly letting him know that she had forgotten about his presence, and she exchanged a glance with the much taller Slytherin student, which merely patted her gently on the back.

"Oh, it's sort of an open secret among a selected few." Hagrid's baritone addressed Orion's question before the latter could pounce on the Gryffindor's faux-pas.

"I have no doubts Dumbledore knows, it's hard to get something done under his nose, after all, but since it's not malignant in the least, he generally lets it go: I'm quite spectacular with potions, and beverages like Fire Whiskey, Gillywater, and so on seemed subpar, so..."

"So he turned an abandoned classroom into a brewery." the smooth voice of Tom Riddle was good support to his soft smile as he joined the small group following Slughorn, which was now directed to a cabinet that Orion had missed up to that point.

"It's merely a place where I study potions." Hagrid shook his head, enjoying the outrageous nature of the paper-thin difference.

"If some of those concoctions have effects that can be described as... entertaining, well, that's still something new I've learned about."

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