"Wake up, child. Wake up, don't sleep the day away."
Orion cracked open a bleary eye to see a familiar crooked nose and a pair of half-moon spectacles peering down at him. He sat up, running a hand through his messy hair.
"Well, if it isn't my dear Headmaster Dumbledore," he said, his voice thick with sleep and sarcasm. "The holiday is over. How good of you to finally grace us with your presence." He stretched, feigning a weary sigh. "Thanks to the diligent tutoring of Professor Snape, my vacation was as fulfilling and joyous as a house-elf's."
"Excellent," Dumbledore said, completely ignoring the sarcasm. "I'm glad to hear you've been so productive." He casually tossed a heavy pouch that clinked with the sound of gold onto Orion's lap. "Now then, today is the first day of term. The students are boarding the Hogwarts Express."
Orion blinked. "So? Don't tell me you're going to make me take that contraption to school. Isn't that a bit like taking off your trousers to fart? Utterly redundant."
As Dumbledore helped him into a fresh set of robes, the Headmaster chuckled. "Think of it as a tradition, my boy. Much like your 'traditional craft' of... re-labeling Snape's potion ingredients."
"He told you about that?"
"Professor Snape has been remarkably communicative this holiday. Ah, and speaking of communication," Dumbledore said, stepping back. "I've heard you had some rather... insightful thoughts on the Sorting Ceremony. My advice? Don't threaten the Hat. It's very old and terribly sensitive."
With a final, "You can get breakfast on the train," Dumbledore grabbed Orion's arm.
CRACK.
They appeared in an empty compartment on a scarlet steam engine. This time, Orion didn't feel sick, but the world was still tilted slightly off its axis. He looked out the window at the empty platform. The steam from the engine felt strangely cold and unwelcoming. With his pale face and disheveled black hair, he probably looked like a ghoul who'd just crawled out of a crypt.
He was about to curl up on the seat and go back to sleep when a sharp tapping sound drew his attention. A magnificent great grey owl was pecking insistently at the window, a small, rolled-up parchment tied to its leg. Orion slid the window open and let it in. He untied the note.
Orion,A little something to get you started at school. Happy term.-Hagrid
The owl puffed out its chest feathers and hooted proudly. It was a truly impressive specimen, large and powerful.
"Right then," Orion said, scratching the owl under its beak. "You need a name. Something suitably grand." He considered it for a moment. "I shall call you... Ares."
The newly christened Ares hooted in agreement. Cradling his new companion, Orion finally succumbed to exhaustion and drifted off to sleep.
He awoke sometime later to the noisy chatter of students on the platform. The train was moving. He blinked, trying to get his bearings, and realized he was no longer alone. Sitting across from him was a dark-haired boy with startlingly green eyes and a lightning-bolt scar on his forehead.
It was Harry Potter. He looked healthier, less haunted than he had in Orion's brief vision of him in Dumbledore's office.
Orion stared, and Harry began to blush under the scrutiny.
"You're Harry Potter, aren't you?" Orion stated. "Hagrid mentioned you."
A look of faint disappointment crossed Harry's face. "And you must be Orion Black. Hagrid told me about you, too."
Orion was surprised. "He did?"
"He said he was getting you an owl," Harry said, nodding towards Ares, who was dozing in his cage. "As a surprise for the start of school."
Before Orion could formulate a witty reply, the compartment door slid open and a red-headed boy with dirt smudged on his nose peered in. "Excuse me," he said. "Everywhere else is full. Do you mind if I sit here?"
They both nodded, and the boy sat down.
"You must be a Weasley," Orion said bluntly. "Fred and George mentioned you."
The boy's face fell. "They… they mentioned me?"
"Yes," Orion said, deciding that honesty was the most entertaining policy. "They told me they were thinking of selling you to the school as a house-elf so they could afford a new Nimbus 2000. Decided against it, though."
The boy, who introduced himself as Ron, looked utterly crestfallen. "That sounds like them," he mumbled.
Just then, the compartment door slid open again and the Weasley twins themselves appeared. "Ron!" they chorused. They tossed him a lumpy, foil-wrapped package. "Mum made you sandwiches." They grinned at Orion. "Fancy seeing you here, Black!"
"You two are a menace," Orion said without heat.
"You know us so well," they said in unison, and with a final wave, they were gone.
Ron pulled a fat, sleeping rat from his pocket. "This is Scabbers, by the way," he said.
The door slid open yet again, this time revealing a smiling, dimpled woman with a trolley laden with sweets. "Anything off the trolley, dears?"
Having missed breakfast, Orion stood up. He pointed a lazy finger. "Not that, not that, and not that. I'll take the rest." He produced a handful of gold Galleons from the pouch Dumbledore had given him.
Ron and Harry stared, wide-eyed, as he piled the seat with Chocolate Frogs, Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans, Cauldron Cakes, and Pumpkin Pasties.
"Help yourselves," Orion said, tearing into a pasty. He silently cursed Dumbledore. It's already past noon. At this rate, we'll be lucky to get to the school by midnight.
As Ron and Harry began examining their Chocolate Frog cards, Ron picked up his wand. "I'm going to try and turn Scabbers yellow. Want to see?"
Before he could begin, the compartment door opened for a fifth time. A bushy-haired girl and a round-faced, teary-eyed boy stood in the doorway.
"Has anyone seen a toad?" the girl asked in a bossy sort of voice. "Neville's lost his."
Orion glanced under the seat. A large, warty toad was cowering in the corner, right where Orion had kicked it when it had tried to hop onto his leg earlier. He pointed. "There."
"Trevor!" the boy cried, diving to retrieve his pet.
The girl, however, was not finished. Her eyes landed on the wand in Ron's hand. "Oh, you're doing magic? Let's see, then."
Ron looked taken aback, but he cleared his throat and pointed his wand at Scabbers.
"Sunshine, daisies, butter mellow,Turn this stupid, fat rat yellow!"
He waved his wand, but absolutely nothing happened. Scabbers didn't even twitch.
"Are you sure that's a real spell?" the girl asked doubtfully. "Well, it's not very good, is it?" She sat down next to Orion. "I've tried a few simple spells myself, of course, and they've all worked for me." She brandished her own wand at Harry's spectacles, which were patched together with tape. "Oculus Reparo!"
The glasses mended themselves instantly. Harry took them off, stunned.
"I'm Hermione Granger, by the way," she said. "And you are?"
"Ron Weasley," Ron mumbled.
"Harry Potter," said Harry.
"Are you really?" Hermione gasped. "I know all about you, of course—I got a few extra books for background reading, and you're in Modern Magical History and The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts and—"
Her attention then swiveled to Orion. "And who are you? I don't remember seeing your name on the list." She paused, then her eyes widened. "Wait, you're the one from the platform. The one without an admission letter."
"An admission letter?" Orion interrupted, feigning confusion. "What's that?"
Hermione looked scandalized. "You didn't get one? The letter from Hogwarts? It comes by owl!"
"Oh, that," Orion said, as if just remembering. "No, I didn't get one of those. I was enjoying my holiday about six months ago—roasting some meat, singing a little song—when Headmaster Dumbledore just appeared out of thin air, declared I had a rare talent, popped a wizard hat on my head and brought me straight to Hogwarts."
Harry's head snapped up. "That's right! Hagrid told me you'd already been at the castle for half a year!"
Hermione's composure completely crumbled. "Half a year? But… but that's not fair! How much magic do you know? Are you even in our year?"
"Of course," Orion said smoothly, thoroughly enjoying her distress. "I'm a first-year, just like you. Barely learned a thing." This wasn't entirely a lie. While he could perform devastatingly powerful magic, he hadn't spent much time on actual first-year curriculum.
"But… that's an enormous advantage!" she sputtered, her hair seeming to frizz with indignation. "It's just not fair!"
Seeing the bushy-haired girl practically vibrating with righteous fury, Orion felt a wicked sense of satisfaction that was more delicious than any Pumpkin Pasty.