It was a bright, blustery day at Hogwarts, and excitement buzzed through the Quidditch pitch as the Gryffindor and Slytherin teams gathered on the field. Professor McGonagall, watching over the Gryffindor team with a mixture of sternness and barely concealed hope, stood by with her tall pointed hat casting a shadow across her face. Her eyes, sharp and unblinking, held a glimmer of pride as she addressed her team.
"Alright, boys, as always—play fair, stay safe, and win!" she called out, her lips twitching into a rare smile.
"Come on, Minnie, you know we would!" Sirius Black grinned, his eyes gleaming with mischief.
"Mr. Black," McGonagall replied sharply, though her eyes softened with a faint twinkle of amusement.
James Potter stepped forward, raising his broom, his voice brimming with confidence. "Alright, lads, let's bring this home!"
The team responded in unison, "Yes, Captain!"
The whistle blew, and in a flash, they were airborne. Sirius and Fabian Prewett took to the skies with fierce determination, eyes trained on the Bludger as they navigated the chaos.
"Fabian, pass the Bludger!" Sirius shouted, swooping toward him.
The Hufflepuff commentator's voice echoed across the stadium. "And there's Black with the Bludger! He passes it to Prewett—oh, but here comes Avery for Slytherin! Somehow that's *not* a foul, folks; nice clean play there, Avery! Oh, wait… right…"
Circling high above, James scanned the field for any glint of gold while his teammates battled below. Sirius was shouting encouragement—or perhaps insults—as he launched another powerful hit. "James, hurry up and find that damn Snitch!"
Down on the field, the Slytherin Chasers were putting up an impressive fight. The commentator piped up again, "Well, color me surprised! The Slytherin Chasers are putting on quite a show today! But, oh! Gryffindor's making a comeback! Black has the Quaffle—could this be the moment?"
Sirius charged toward the Slytherin goal, only to be jostled violently by the Slytherin Keeper. The crowd gasped, but, to everyone's surprise, the call was declared clean.
"Well, no foul apparently! Interesting call there from the referee—very interesting," the commentator chuckled, his tone dripping with irony.
Meanwhile, James spotted something—a flicker of gold near the Slytherin stands. Narrowing his eyes, he leaned forward, urging his broom faster. But he wasn't alone. The Slytherin Seeker, dangerously close, had seen the Snitch too, and was streaking toward it with everything he had.
It was neck and neck as they approached the golden prize, each stretching out a hand, teeth gritted in determination. The stadium was in an uproar, students and professors alike leaning forward in their seats.
Then, at the last possible second, James thrust his hand forward, closing his fingers around the Snitch just as it began to dart away.
"HE'S GOT IT! JAMES POTTER HAS CAUGHT THE SNITCH! GRYFFINDOR WINS!" The commentator's voice roared through the crowd, and Gryffindor's stands erupted into cheers.
Professor McGonagall clapped, a rare look of satisfaction crossing her face as her team descended, triumphant. She even allowed herself a proud smile as she spotted James and Sirius celebrating, Sirius lifted onto his teammates' shoulders.
Watching from the professor's area, Orion Black observed the match with a calm but watchful eye. He'd come to pick up his sons under the guise of a Hogwarts council visit. Beside him, Abraxas Malfoy leaned back casually, his gaze flickering between the game and Orion, his tone one of gentle mocking.
"You know, if we'd been in different houses—" Abraxas began, grinning.
"We weren't," Orion replied, face impassive but a hint of amusement flickering in his mercury eyes.
"Well, somehow if we were," Abraxas pressed.
"Not possible, we both are Slytherins through and through." Orion replied, this time allowing a trace of a smirk.
"Fine. Who do you think is the better player, then?" Abraxas asked with a grin.
"I was a Seeker; you were a Chaser totally different categories Abarax." Orion answered smoothly.
"Still," Abraxas persisted.
Orion chuckled slightly. "I'm the smart player. You're the flashy one."
"Oh, come on! I was better," Abraxas huffed. "If my sister-in-law were here, she'd back me up, wouldn't she?"
Orion's eyes glinted as he turned. "Let's not bring Vishaka into this, shall we?" he said, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. "But if you must know, Meenakshi—*your* wife, my sister-in-law—*always* took my side."
"Oh, knock it off. I was the better player," Abraxas grumbled, leaning back.
"No," Orion replied simply, gaze shifting back to the pitch where Sirius was being carried on his teammates' shoulders for scoring the majority of Gryffindor's points, despite James catching the Snitch.
"Fine. So you're ignoring me now?" Abraxas said, sounding wounded.
Orion looked at him, his expression somewhere between astonishment and exasperation. "Don't you have an image to maintain?" he asked.
"Oh, please," Abraxas replied, rolling his eyes. "My mere presence is their good luck." He winked at a female professor who blushed immediately, proving his point. "With looks like these, people won't care about my image."
"Self-obsessed peacock," Orion muttered. "Shall I tell Meena?"
Abraxas's smile faded, his tone growing serious. "Jokes aside—did you really find them? Are you sure this isn't some setup?"
Orion's expression darkened as he nodded. "I'm sure," he replied, his voice low and firm.
"Are you certain? Don't give me hope just to see it crushed," Abraxas murmured, his eyes reflecting both fear and fragile hope. "You know..."
Orion's gaze turned icy. "Stop. Don't talk as if it's only your loss," he said in a dangerous, quiet voice. "Those responsible will pay. For Vishaka. For Meenakshi. For everything."
The air around them grew thick with Orion's power, barely contained as it surged, his hands clenched, and eyes blazing with a fierce, unyielding intensity.
Abraxas looked out across the field, his eyes settling on his son Lucius, standing among his Slytherin friends, looking every bit the icy, poised young aristocrat. His own resolve steeled.
"Yes," he whispered, his gaze hardening. "We will make them pay."
Orion approached James and Sirius with a small, approving nod. "Good game, son," he said, his tone steady but warm.
Sirius looked up, momentarily taken aback. Standing before him was his father, looking like an older, more refined version of himself—though Sirius would never admit it. Orion's hair framed his aristocratic features, his robes tailored to perfection, outlining his lean, muscular frame. He noticed some of the nearby girls casting admiring glances. For a moment, Sirius felt a strange realization. The man he'd often been angry with, believing him to be distant and unfeeling, now looked almost... approachable, like the person he had once seen smiling in the photograph.
James stepped forward, his voice confident and polite. "Merry met, Lord Black, Lord Malfoy. I'm Heir Potter, and it's a pleasure to meet you both."
"Ah, merry met, Heir Potter," Abraxas Malfoy replied with a slight nod, his gaze amused. "Though you are a Gryffindor, I'll admit, that game was quite interesting."
Sirius only then noticed his father had been accompanied by Abraxas Malfoy, the patriarch of the Malfoy family. Lord Malfoy's appearance was every bit the aristocratic prince—sophisticated and polished, while Orion had a more rugged, untamed presence.
As Sirius was about to introduce himself, his younger brother Regulus and Lucius Malfoy joined them.
"Father," Regulus greeted respectfully, to which Orion nodded, a faint softness in his expression that he rarely displayed.
Orion held up a hand. "Enough with the formalities, Lucius. You know us well enough."
Abraxas, watching the field, added, "But that collision with Avery, that was a clear foul, wasn't it, Lucius?"
"Yes, Father," Lucius confirmed.
Abraxas shook his head, frowning. "It's players like him that give us all a poor reputation. It's not as if we lack the skill to win fairly. And if they're going to cheat, they should at least do it properly," he muttered, exasperated.
Sirius, James, Regulus, and Lucius all exchanged surprised glances. Abraxas' uncharacteristic mini-rant left them a bit stunned.
As Abraxas continued to air his thoughts on Slytherin's integrity, Orion was speaking with Professor Dumbledore.
"Professor, why was traditional wizarding etiquette removed from the curriculum?" Orion asked, his tone direct.
Dumbledore, with a thoughtful look, replied, "Well, Lord Black, I thought it might be difficult for Muggle-borns to feel at ease if they were made to learn customs so different from their own."
Orion's expression didn't falter. "Perhaps, but it could also help them understand our world better, don't you think? We can discuss it more in detail at the council meeting. Now, should I start my tour?"
"Of course. Hogwarts has certainly missed your presence, Lord Black. You may not have thought of me as your favorite professor, but you were always one of my best students. I hope you know what you're doing," Dumbledore said, his eyes twinkling.
Orion allowed himself a faint smile. "I know, Professor. And I don't hate you, if that's what you're getting at."
He turned back to the group, finding Abraxas still deep in his dramatic musings about Quidditch, while the younger boys stood looking slightly overwhelmed.
"Knock it off, Abraxas," Orion said in a low, almost amused tone.
Abraxas rolled his eyes. "Always spoiling my fun, this one," he muttered with a smirk.
Orion merely shook his head, casting a final look of approval at Sirius before turning to begin his tour with Dumbledore, leaving the boys with a curious mix of admiration and disbelief.