the ancient halls of hogwarts were on edge. a rebellion had been stirring, spurred on by wizards and goblins alike. ranrok especially.

gethen especially.

orion’s father was prominent, known within the wizarding community for his exceptional legilimency skills and his public image. he was charming, powerful, and the bane of orion’s existence.

their relation was obvious, orion was the spitting image of his father. between his old money blonde hair, hazel eyes, and attractive features it was obvious who he was related to. it made him want to permanently take a polyjuice potion.

you had been on a hunt to prove yourself, the ancient magic you possessed possibly the only way to stop the rebellion.

orion had discovered what you were doing when you stumbled through the halls, bloodied from a trial. when you’d finally confided in him he’d bristled.

you hadn’t known why until you’d seen his father.

“honestly, this is the only way,” the ravenclaw insisted for the millionth time, the blues in the common room bringing out the azure in his eyes. you’d assured him you only had to take out ranrok. he’d insisted his father go down too.

it was eerie, as the two of you poured over the maps spread on the table. the way he talked of his father’s death without batting an eye.