Diagon Alley was a riot of noise and color, the summer sun reflecting off the cobblestones and the brass cauldrons stacked outside shops. It was the busiest time of the year, the pre-term rush where parents emptied their vaults and students reunited with shouts of joy.
For the Malfoys, however, shopping was a precise military operation.
"We shall divide and conquer," Lucius announced as they stood near the entrance of the Leaky Cauldron. He adjusted his gloves, his eyes scanning the crowd with a look of mild distaste. "Draco, you are with me. We have business in... the lower alley. There are certain items from the cellar that require a discreet appraisal before the Ministry gets any more ideas."
"Knockturn Alley?" Draco's eyes lit up. To him, it was a forbidden adventure. To Orion, it was a pawn shop for dark wizards.
"Just stay close, Draco," Narcissa said, smoothing his collar. "And do not touch anything. Especially at Mr. Borgin's."
"Yes, Mother," Draco nodded, practically bouncing on his heels.
"Orion," Lucius turned to his other son. "You will accompany your mother. I trust you can manage the stationary and the apothecary lists?"
"With pleasure, Father," Orion agreed smoothly.
In truth, Orion was relieved. He had his own money—a substantial pile of Galleons he had saved over the years. Unlike Draco, who treated his allowance like water in a sieve, spending it on sweets and enchanted toys the moment it touched his hand, Orion hoarded his resources. He budgeted. He planned. If there was something he truly wanted, he bought it himself, leaving no paper trail and owing no favors.
Lucius and Draco vanished into the shadows of the archway leading to Knockturn Alley. Orion offered his arm to his mother.
"Shall we?"
Narcissa took his arm, her grip light but firm. "Let us avoid the bookstore for now," she advised, looking down the street.
Orion followed her gaze. A massive crowd was spilling out of Flourish and Blotts. A banner stretched across the upper windows: GILDEROY LOCKHART signing his autobiography, MAGICAL ME, today 12:30 PM - 4:30 PM.
The crowd was mostly middle-aged witches, clutching books to their chests with rapturous expressions.
"It looks like a riot in a perfume factory," Orion noted dryly. "I assume we have no desire to be crushed by adoring fans?"
"None whatsoever," Narcissa sniffed, her lip curling in a distinctly Malfoy expression of judgment. "It is undignified. We shall retrieve your books later, once the peacock has finished preening."
"A sound strategy."
They moved through the alley, purchasing high-grade potion ingredients (Orion stocked up on powdered bicorn horn and boomslang skin, just in case) and restocking his parchment supply.
As they exited the apothecary, the scent of bitter roots clinging to their robes, a flash of shocking pink caught Orion's eye near the entrance of Gambol and Japes.
Nymphadora Tonks was standing there, laughing with a group of friends. She was wearing a t-shirt with a moving print of the Weird Sisters and torn jeans—an outfit that would have given Lucius a coronary.
Orion felt Narcissa stiffen beside him. Her hand on his arm tightened imperceptibly. She had seen her too.
Orion looked at his mother. Her face was a mask of marble perfection, staring straight ahead, refusing to acknowledge the girl who bore her sister's eyes. The Black family feud was a silent, cold war that had lasted decades.
"Mother," Orion said softly. "One moment."
He didn't wait for permission. He gently disengaged his arm and stepped toward the group.
"Tonks!" Orion called out, his voice cutting through the chatter.
Tonks turned. Her hair was currently a vibrant, electric pink spikes. When she saw Orion, her grin widened.
"Orion!" she waved, excusing herself from her friends. She jogged over, her combat boots clumping on the stones. "Wotcher. Fancy seeing you here. Shopping for the new year?"
"Standard procedure," Orion nodded. He glanced back. Narcissa was standing by the apothecary window, examining a display of dragon liver with intense fascination. She did not look over.
Tonks followed his gaze. Her smile faltered slightly, a shadow of sadness crossing her face, before she shook it off. She knew the rules of engagement.
"So," Orion brought her attention back. "The summer has been kind? I assume the N.E.W.T. results have arrived?"
"They sure did!" Tonks beamed, her hair shifting to a celebratory gold for a second. "Got 'em last week. Passed everything. 'Exceeds Expectations' across the board, and an 'Outstanding' in Defense and Charms."
"Impressive," Orion said genuinely. "Congratulations. That clears the path for the Ministry, doesn't it?"
"It does," Tonks puffed out her chest. "I'm studying for the Auror entrance exams now. Stealth, tracking, concealment... it's grueling, but I'm ready."
Orion raised an eyebrow. "You still want to be an Auror? Even after a year of learning 'Defense' from Professor Savage? I would have thought his incompetence would have put you off the profession entirely."
Tonks groaned, throwing her head back. "Don't remind me. That man... honestly, Orion, I think he was afraid of his own wand. He spent three weeks teaching us how to 'de-escalate' a Red Cap by talking to it. You don't talk to Red Caps; you blast them!"
She shook her head, grinning.
"But hey, not every Auror is like Savage. Mad-Eye Moody is teaching the seminars at the Academy this year. He's the real deal. And if the rest of them are incompetent... well, then I guess I'll just have to be different, won't I?"
There was a fire in her eyes—a determination that Orion respected. She wasn't just doing it for the title; she wanted to make a difference.
"I believe you will be," Orion smiled. "The Ministry could use someone who doesn't trip over their own regulations. Or their own feet."
"Hey!" Tonks nudged him playfully. "I haven't tripped once today. It's a new record."
"Keep it up," Orion checked his watch. "I should return. Good luck with the exams, Tonks. I'm rooting for you."
"Thanks, little cousin," Tonks winked. "Try not to cause too much trouble this year. Last year's point strategy was too much you know. You snakes are getting ambitious."
"We prefer 'efficient' as well," Orion corrected.
He turned and walked back to Narcissa.
Tonks watched him go, then glanced once at the woman with the blonde hair who refused to turn around. With a small, wistful shrug, Tonks rejoined her friends.
Orion reached his mother. She didn't ask what they talked about. She didn't ask how her niece was doing. She simply took his offered arm again.
"The stationer's next," Narcissa said, her voice perfectly even, though Orion noticed her grip was just a fraction looser than before.
"Lead the way, Mother."
They walked on through the crowd, the silence between them heavy with the ghosts of a family broken by pride, leaving the vibrant pink-haired girl behind to chase her future.