Chapter Text
With a snap James materialised outside the residence of Walburga and Orion Black. He originally tried to apparate inside the house, but the wards wouldn’t let him enter that way. He hopes that the most ancient and noble House of Black hadn’t thought to ward against muggle forms of breaking and entering.
Sirius had taught James how to pick a lock years ago, Sirius didn’t like to talk about why it was necessary for a pureblood child to know a muggle skill, but they knew it had something to do with why neither Sirius nor regulus could stand to be trapped in small spaces.
James hadn’t really had use of lockpicking since they were in school pulling pranks, so it takes longer than normal to unlock the door. He was almost going to try something else when he heard the unmistakable click of the pins in the lock. James almost squealed with excitement before he remembered what he was doing.
That thought sobered him up instantly. James was on a mission to save his soulmate and he couldn’t be reckless, well more reckless than breaking into his ex-boyfriend’s home, dodging his death eater parents, to find his house elf that is.
Taking a stabilising breath James grabs the door handle and carefully twists it, making sure he’s as quiet as possible. Surprisingly the door clicked open, making James roll his eyes, of course the Blacks are too arrogant for their own good.
He grabs the handle and without another moment of hesitation he enters the house.
The first thing James noticed was how dark it was, he could hardly see in front of himself, he lit his wand with a Lumos spell, hoping the dark meant nobody was home.
Next, he noticed the smell. It was damp and musty, and the air felt heavy. It kind of reminded him of the time he got stuck in the dungeons of Hogwarts castle when the marauders pulled a prank. James accidentally got locked inside when they let off dung bombs in the Slytherin common room, it was almost romantic really, he was trying to get Regulus out in time, but he was too late. He ended up with a black eye and had detention for a month, still it was worth it. Anyway, it is less pungent than that, but it was kind of similar. He decided to breathe through his mouth as much as possible.
As he continued down the hall he came to a stop at the stairs, he desperately wanted to go in search of Regulus’s bedroom, but he had to find the damn house elf. He had no time to dawdle so he set off down to the kitchens in search of Kreature.
Looking everywhere downstairs he found nothing other than sparce cupboards and dust covering all the surfaces. The house looked completely abandoned.
He searched some more before conceding to go up to Regulus’s room. He checked every room on his way past, all looking just as abandoned as the kitchen.
When he reached a door with the name S. O. Black he stopped. Was it an intrusion if he went in Sirius’s old bedroom? It’s not like the other boy ever considered it home.
He had some trouble pushing open the door, he had to use a bit of force to open the rusted hinges. It made a horrid screeching noise. James flinched and recoiled at the noise, dropping the handle as if it’d burned him. He was so jumpy recently after New Years Eve. Unfortunately, the noise echoed throughout the ancient halls, bouncing through every cold, dark crevice.
He waited but no one came. Everything was still. It was unnerving and made him even more on edge.
The house was more than likely abandoned, but it made no sense. It was truly unfathomable that Orion and Walburga Black would leave the ‘powerful, ancestral home’ desolate.
Just as James began to regain his composure a spluttering coughing noise sounded. It was almost a wheezing, so sickly and fragile. He wondered if perhaps there were squatters living in the abandoned old house, but still he was prepared wand at the ready facing the door he heard it come from.
He took a step closer to the room, but just so happened upon a broken floorboard. Jumping again at the startling noise he piped out a string of curse words and stepped back.
This time the other person realised they weren’t alone.
“Regulus, my boy is that you?” A strained voice called from the next room.
James froze for a second until the voice spoke again.
“Where have you been? Your mother has been beside herself with worry”, the sickly man called out.
Well, it was clearly not a squatter James surmised. It was ‘the one and only Orion, head of the most ancient and knobheaded house of Black’, James thought to himself. Why he was living in such meagre conditions James didn’t know. There had been nothing in the papers about Orion, not even Regulus’s death had been announced publicly, and it seemed like Orion didn’t even know. Parent of the year.
James was getting mad just thinking about it. How dare he say his name?! He sentenced his son to death with his cruelty and expectations of finding ‘glory’ by the side of Voldemort.
Before he realised what he was doing he was storming his way towards the room, consequences be damned. He wouldn’t let him get away with what he had done to the two most important people in James’s life.
“Why is she missing her punching bag?” James fumed barging into the room.
The other man was across the room, he looked as pale as death and couldn’t move himself well enough to fully sit himself up.
The frailty of the man before him shocked James. He was still fuming but the man before him was a feeble excuse for the ‘mighty’ head of the house of Black, well the official head of house at least. Everyone knew it was Walburga that ran the affairs in reality, no one could acknowledge that though without repercussions. To even insinuate that Orion was weak was a threat on the patrilineage of the Black line.
“Who dares trespass in my house?” Orion demands. James supposes it was meant to be threatening but it was pathetic really. The man couldn’t move, his skin was basically translucent, and he coughed and wheezed every other word.
“Really old man, you don’t recognise the person who rescued your child from you? I’m almost offended.” James snarked. Orion squinted to look at James and sneered.
“Filthy blood traitor” he cursed “What do you want, trying to steal another son of mine? Well, he’s not here.” James clenched his hands tight into fists, fingernails digging into the palms of his hands. He wouldn’t break down, not in front of Orion Black.
“Funnily enough I’m looking for your house elf, know where he is?” James inquired. Its not exactly like he expected the man to answer him directly, but it was worth a shot.
To Orion’s credit he was only slightly taken aback, he must be used to strange occurrences because he almost acted like it was a normal conversation that he was uninterested in.
“And why would I care to tell you?”
“I mean you have two options here; one you could answer me now, or two you answer me after a bit of ‘persuading’.” He really tried to sound menacing, but his voice shook slightly, and he wasn’t sure what he was threatening Orion with. He hadn’t planned to run into anyone never mind trying to torture them into submission. He didn’t even know how to torture someone, not properly. Its not like he could get a manual for it.
“Stupid boy, threatening me is unwise.”
“Huh, doesn’t look like it, it looks like you can’t wipe your own arse never mind fight back”.
“You insolent child, leave my house this instant!” Orion was winded just yelling so James wasn’t worried, but he was wasting his time. James needed to find Kreature and formulate the next steps of his plan.
“Just tell me where the house elf is and I’ll go, leave you to rot.” James exclaimed.
“I don’t know where the blasted elf is, Kreature has been gone just as long as my son. Regulus is probably with him. I don’t know why my son bothers with the beast, it’s probably dead after the Dark Lord was done with it. Regulus was always too tender-hearted to be heir, but I had to make do after the disgrace was disinherited.” The man rambled on, making jabs at Sirius and Regulus along the way.
Orion unknowingly confirmed who was in the cave the first time, it was Voldemort himself. But this just gave way for more questions than he had time to answer. He knew Kreature was alive, he had to be, but where?
“They’re not together.” James stated surely and Orion eyed him suspiciously.
“What do you know of my son?”
“More than you ever will.” James whispered tenderly to himself, too quiet for the other man to hear.
“Speak up boy!”
“He’s dead. Regulus died.”
Orion blanched looking more ill than he already did.
“What? Are you sad you have no more heirs? Sad that the Black family line dies with you? Well FUCK THAT and FUCK YOU!” James spat vehemently.
“It’s all your fault! You killed him with your bullshit about ‘family’ and ‘pride’!” He was so mad, so unbelievably angry. He thinks of all the things the other man did to the two people he loves most in existence. All the things Orion did to James’s precious boys, his best friend and his soulmate.
James hated the man, truly and fully.
In his anger a sort of calm washes over him and he wonders how much better the world would be without Orion Black in it. How Sirius would be free from one of his abusers for good. How Regulus may have survived if not for the man in front of him right now.
It’s not even like James would have to do much anyway. The guy was clearly already on his way into the cold arms of death, he would just give him a nudge to speed it along.
He took a tentative step closer to the pompous hospital-style bed adorned with silks ladened atop the sickly man, then another and another until he was practically right next to him. If this were a loved one James would probably grasp their hand and wish for anything to save them, but this was no one. James didn’t think a single soul in the universe loved or even cared about this man. How pathetic.
“What are you doing boy?” Orion demanded; however, it came out weaker than the man wanted, and he tried again “I command you to stop what you are doing and leave this house, or you will regret it boy”.
The statement held more conviction than the last, but it was futile. James was furious, he wanted someone to suffer, someone who deserved it. Not his friends, not his soulmate, not the innocents. Orion was the perfect person to hurt.
Orion had done so much evil in his life; he could do so much more evil if he ever got better. All that James would have to do would cast a little curse and it would all be over.
Sirius would be free of the shadow looming over him. Regulus would be one step closer to being avenged. Muggle born witches and wizards would be that much safer without this wretched man alive in the world.
James thought it all. He was rationalising and he knew it. He didn’t care. Who would miss him? How long would it take for anyone to notice? Would they report Regulus or Orion dead first?
He approached the bed menacingly; the other man must have realised that James was deadly serious because he made no demands anymore. He was feeble. He was weak. He reached for the wand that sat on his bedside table, but he couldn’t reach it, big mistake.
James was right next to the other man, his blood was rushing, he could hear his heartbeat pounding. Thud, thud, thud. It played like war drums.
Orion was panicking, his ‘noble’ composure slipping away by the second.
James was in a crazed trance created by his own anger and need for revenge. He knew it was wrong to want someone dead, it was wrong to hurt others out of malice, but he couldn’t find it in himself to stop. He wanted to do this.
He raised his wand pointing it right at Orion, but a sinister thought entered his head. How ironic it would be to kill him a muggle way.
He puts his wand in his pocket and grabs a silk covered pillow from under Orion’s head. The man groans in pain but there is not much he can do. Orion can’t defend himself and there is no one there to help him. James was determined to right the wrong.
Ignoring the protests of the other man he grips the pillow tight and pushes it down onto Orion’s face, making sure there are no airgaps. He pushes harder and holds it there.
Orion thrashes and fights harder than James thought he would be able to, the survival instincts kicking in. James smirks at the attempt, how funny it was that Orion is too weak to fight off a muggle-style attack. The blood supremacist was no stronger than the people he hated so much.
James flickered in realisation, and he jumped back from the man, throwing away the silk-lined pillow as if it’d burned him. James was acting as Orion or any other death-eater, picking on the weak, killing off the easy targets.
“What am I doing?!” James asks himself aloud.
He rushes back to Orion’s bedside; he needs to check to see if he had done it. Had he murdered the man in cold blood?
He tried to check for a pulse or the feel of his breath, but his hands shook too violently. He couldn’t stop, so he did the only thing he could think of and picked up Orion’s wand, cast a quick spell to alarm St. Mungos and he runs. He goes down the stairs and to the front door, opens it and is about to leave when he hears the Medi-witches enter through the floo and rush to Orion’s room.
James waits, listening to their assessment of the situation. He stays until he hears the confirmation, ‘he’s alive but barely, if he has any chance of survival then we have to get him to the hospital now’ and without another word James stumbles out of the door and apparates away.