James sat in the common room with his friends, his eyes scanning over the letter from his father. He cleared his throat and began to read aloud, capturing the attention of everyone in the room.
**Dear James,**
**The family crest you sent is that of the Rathore family. This is the information I found in our family library.**
The Rathore family, known for their deep devotion to Lord Shiva, has always stood apart in the magical world—not for traditional spellcasting, but for their remarkable abilities as elementalists. This ancient line of warriors draws their strength directly from the elements of nature. Family members often display an innate affinity for fire, wind, earth, or water. The Rathores view these elements not as mere tools but as sacred gifts from Lord Shiva, the Destroyer, which they wield with reverence and respect.
For centuries, the Rathores were feared and respected by magical families and non-magical realms alike. Unlike many bloodlines focused on conquest, the Rathores sought mastery of the elemental arts primarily for defense, protection, and to honor Shiva's teachings. Their martial prowess was not for personal gain but for preserving justice and the natural balance. They train rigorously, mastering both elemental combat and their spiritual connection to Shiva, seeing every battle as a spiritual offering rather than an opportunity for domination.
In times of conflict, the Rathores become an unstoppable force, their elemental abilities shaping the battlefield. Fire-wielders summon flames in the rhythmic dance of Shiva's cosmic tandava; wind-masters control gales with a force that mirrors Shiva's storm; earth-bearers create barriers that stand like the unyielding strength of the Himalayas. However, the Rathores only unleash their full potential when necessary, adhering to their family's strict code of honor and restraint, using their powers in service of justice and protection.
The Rathore family crest features a trident (trishula), entwined with the symbols of the four elements—fire, water, mountain peaks, and wind—signifying their sacred connection to both their god and their elemental gifts. Surrounding these symbols is their family motto in ancient Sanskrit:
**"धर्मस्य रक्षणाय तत्वे रक्षामहे"**
("In defense of truth, we guard the elements.")
This saying embodies the Rathore legacy: their power exists to serve a higher purpose, to protect the natural order, and to pay homage to Lord Shiva, the preserver and destroyer.
I don't know what you're getting yourself into, Jamie, but let me tell you this: they are ruthless fighters, capable of causing unimaginable pain, despite their reputation as protectors. They always put their family first. It's a mysterious line, even more so than Merlin himself. And just so you know, Orion Black of the Black family has a history with the Rathores.
**PS:** Tell Sirius he has a surprise coming his way.
**Lovingly,**
**Fleamont Potter**
"So what now?" Remus asked, breaking the silence.
"We wait until we can find out more about your mum, Sirius," James replied, trying to sound reassuring.
Sirius looked down, his voice quiet but tinged with doubt. "What if she left me?"
"Don't be stupid, Sirius," Remus interjected firmly. "Did you see how much your parents loved each other? Something must've happened—she wouldn't have just left you like that."
James nodded in agreement. "Exactly. So don't overthink it. We'll figure it out when we get the chance. For now, just get some sleep. We'll deal with it tomorrow."
Sirius sighed, still feeling conflicted, but he managed a small smile. "Oh, okay, Moony. But... if she were here, do you think she would've liked me?"
James chuckled softly, his tone warm. "Yes, Sirius, you're such a lovable person. Anyone would be lucky to have you."
The words hung in the air as Sirius smiled faintly, feeling comforted by his friends' support. They may not have all the answers yet, but for now, they were in this together. And that, at least, was enough.
In the Great Hall at breakfast, the early morning buzz was interrupted when Sirius and Regulus both received letters from their father, summoning them for a family meeting. The letter was succinct and commanding, stating that their father would personally come to pick them up. Sirius folded the letter, placing it carefully into his bag before sending the owl off with a few scraps of food.
Meanwhile, James, ever the charmer, was once again attempting to flirt with Lily, a grin plastered on his face as he leaned over to talk to her. But the moment was interrupted when Fabian Prewett rushed in, holding up a newspaper with an urgent look on his face.
"You have to see this, Sirius!" Fabian said, practically shoving the paper into his hands.
Sirius raised an eyebrow but took the paper, his interest piqued. As he scanned the front page, his eyes widened. The headline read: *"Malfoy and Black Families Form Unlikely Alliance—New Political Power Shift Looms."*
The article detailed the surprising shift in allegiances at the Wizengamot, with both the Malfoys and Blacks moving to the neutral faction—an unexpected development that had stunned the magical world. Fabian stood nearby, waiting for Sirius's reaction.
"Well, that's... something," Sirius muttered, still processing the implications of his family's new political maneuver. He glanced at Regulus, who seemed unusually quiet.
James, catching the shift in atmosphere, leaned over, eyes still on Lily but sensing the tension in the air. "What's going on, Pads? What does it mean?"
Sirius shook his head, his mind racing. "I don't know yet, but it looks like my family's making moves. And not the kind I'm used to seeing."
Regulus, still seated, didn't speak but his brow furrowed as he too studied the article. A heavy silence filled the air, as everyone at the table seemed to realize that the stakes were getting higher, and nothing was going to be the same again.
Back at grimmauld place Orion was sitting in his room looking at a small box which had intricate designs on it and filled with vermillion lost in thoughts
At Grimmauld Place, Orion sat in the dimly lit room, his attention fixed on a small box before him. Intricate designs adorned its surface, and the rich vermilion powder inside seemed to glow faintly as if alive with its own mysterious energy. His fingers hovered above it, lost in thought, his mind far away.
The air around him was heavy with the scent of tobacco and something more—a quiet intensity that had settled into the room ever since he'd been with her. He could still feel her presence, the way she had felt against him, the way her soft laughter echoed in his ears.
*"But really, you should've told me sooner if I was causing you distress, my rooh. I wouldn't want to see you anything but blissful."* His voice was low, calm, but there was a playful undertone to it, as if his words held a hidden challenge. He leaned closer to her, his breath warm against her neck as his fingers threaded through her hair.
Vishaka's eyes sparkled with mischief as she caught his teasing remark. She chuckled softly, her voice a sweet melody that filled the room. *"You're doing fine, Orion,"* she reassured him, her voice soothing yet playful. She tilted her head to the side, letting him work his way through her hair with more ease. There was something magnetic about the way he touched her, how he carefully handled each strand, his hands strong yet gentle.
She watched him from the corner of her eye, a sly smile tugging at her lips as she bit her lower lip, a habit that she knew stirred something within him. She adored the way his hands, veined and calloused, intertwined in her hair, the contrast of their skin making the moment feel even more intimate.
Orion's molten silver eyes flickered darkly as he noticed the playful gesture. He took a long drag from his cigarette, the glowing ember lighting up his face as he exhaled, the smoke curling lazily in the air around them. His gaze lingered on the delicate line of her neck, where her mangalsutra hung—an ever-present reminder of their bond.
With a deep, almost reverent exhale, Orion gathered the thick, black strands of her hair, twisting them into a loose knot with surprising delicacy. His movements were slow, methodical, yet infused with a quiet intensity, as if he was savoring every touch. His fingers brushed against her skin as he secured the knot, and the faintest trace of cigarette smoke lingered in the air, mingling with the scent of her skin.
*"I swear you love that cigarette more than me,"* Vishaka teased, her voice dripping with affection and playful sass. She nudged his hand away from her face, her fingers lightly brushing the cigarette from his grip as the smoke danced in the air between them.
Orion's lips twitched into a smile, his gaze never leaving her. *"Ah, but you know I adore a challenge,"* he murmured, his voice low and full of that familiar, seductive purr. *"And you, my dear, are the most beguiling challenge I've ever faced."*
In an instant, he pulled her closer, his powerful arms wrapping around her waist and lifting her effortlessly. He placed her gently on his lap, her soft curves fitting perfectly against the firm contours of his body. *"Why waste my efforts on something so trivial as grooming,"* he whispered, his voice growing darker with desire, *"when I could be doing something far more... pleasurable?"*
His hands drifted over her bare midriff, sending a shiver down her spine as she leaned into his touch.
Her laughter was light and teasing. *"Is that so?"* she responded, her voice playful yet laden with unspoken challenges. *"And what might this something more pleasurable be?"* Her heart raced, and her body responded instinctively to the warmth of his touch.
As he pulled out the vermilion box, Vishaka's breath caught in her throat, and her eyes widened in surprise. The crimson powder inside held deep significance—an ancient symbol of protection and love within their culture. Her heart fluttered as she nodded, a slight flush of shyness crossing her features. Orion applied the vermilion to her hairline with careful precision, his touch tender as he brushed the powder into her hair.
When he kissed her forehead, she felt a deep sense of peace wash over her, a connection that transcended the moment. His touch, his kiss, the soft murmurs of affection—everything felt right, as if the universe itself had aligned just for them.
But as the quiet settled between them, Orion's thoughts drifted. She disappeared like a mirage
*"I'll find you,"* he whispered his voice rough. *"I'll protect you, better than before."* He hugged her saree closer to him, holding it as if she was the only thing that mattered in the world.
And with that thought, as the weight of everything settled, Orion finally drifted into a restless slumber.