The candles in the Great Hall burned brightly, laughter and cheerful chatter filling the room—but to Orion, it all felt suffocating. He sat there, staring at his plate without touching his food. The laughter of Fred and George nearby, the excited discussions of Harry, Ron, and Hermione about the Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson... all of it faded, blurred behind the image of the little girl with black hair and gray eyes just like his own, calling for help in a sea of flames. The image of the Boggart—Esther in the fire—still burned in his mind. His eyes gazed distantly, through space and time, back to days when his life hadn't yet shattered.

The summer sun in St. Kilda was always warm and radiant. In the wildflower garden behind the house, two seven-year-olds with matching black hair played tag.

"Orion! You can't catch me! Nyah-nyah!" Esther, his twin sister, laughed, her gray eyes sparkling like jewels in the sunlight.

Orion ran as fast as he could, heart swelling with joy and pride to have a little sister to play with. Unlike Gideon or Rosalind—one always buried in work, free only during meals, the other obsessed with brewing poisons or studying herbs—everything was dull and heavy for a child like Orion.

As dusk fell, the siblings would often sneak up to the attic, where a window overlooked the sea. Esther loved pointing at the star-filled sky and having Orion recount the constellations that Gideon had taught him.

"Orion, does the North Star always point north?" Esther asked, eyes wide with curiosity.

"Yes," Orion said proudly, "and that constellation, the Hunter, see it? It looks like a warrior drawing a bow."

Esther rested her cheek on his shoulder, dreamy:

"When we grow up, we'll travel everywhere together, right? Even to the farthest stars."

Orion squeezed her hand:

"I promise. I'll always be by your side."

On rainy afternoons, they would sit in the home library, Esther eagerly reading fairy tales to Orion. Her clear voice echoed in the quiet room:

"One day, we'll adventure to the ends of the world together, right?"

Orion smiled:

"Of course! As long as you want it, I'll do it!"

During cold winter nights, when the sea wind howled through cracks in the walls, the two would often hide in the kitchen. Old house-elf Pippy let them be, occasionally giving them warm cookies. Orion and Esther would sit by the fireplace, practicing simple spells (taught by their brother) or reading the old books they found in the library. Or... sometimes they'd mess with Rosalind's jars of poison and end up with rashes, or something like that.

Sometimes, when Esther struggled with a Transfiguration assignment Gideon had given, Orion would patiently sit beside her.

"You have to really imagine it, Esther. Like when we turned that leaf into a butterfly."

He held her hand, guiding her until she succeeded. The joy in her eyes when she performed magic was the happiest thing for Orion.

Dinner was always the noisiest time of the day. Gideon recounted his work at the Ministry of Magic (a million details remembered in his enormous brain), Rosalind excitedly shared about newly discovered herbs. Orion and Esther would fight over the last pastry, finally splitting it and giggling as they ate. Moments like that made Orion feel like the happiest child in the world.

But then, one night, that beautiful dream shattered.

Orion was awakened by a piercing scream and the smell of smoke.

"ORION! HELP ME!"—Esther's panicked voice tore through the quiet night. He leapt from his bed, heart hammering. The hallway was filled with black smoke, the orange blaze from his sister's room raging.

Orion screamed, trying to rush into the room, but a mysterious magical fire had locked the door, consuming everything.

"Esther! Hold on! I'LL SAVE YOU!" he shouted desperately.

"Orion! Get back!"—a hand pulled him away. Gideon, the eldest, appeared, face stricken with horror. He raised his wand, firing spells at the door, but the fire seemed magically protected, still raging fiercely.

Rosalind ran over, holding a vial.

"This fire is cursed! Let me try the counter-potion!" Her voice trembled as she tried to pour the solution onto the flames. But it was useless.

The three siblings stood helplessly as the fire consumed the room. Orion could only hear a faint final whimper from behind the door:

"Save... me..." then silence.

"No... no... ESTHER!" Orion struggled against Gideon's grip, but he couldn't break free. His brother held him tightly.

"Calm down... Orion... Esther will be fine... the magical fire brigade is coming; they'll extinguish it soon..." Gideon tried to reassure him, but there was no hope in his voice.

"But... if Rosa says the fire is cursed, Esther won't know what to do! She hasn't been taught to handle this!" Orion sobbed inwardly in Gideon's arms.

When the fire brigade arrived, all that was left was a charred little body. Gideon held Orion tightly, shielding him from the sight. His face had aged decades in a single night. Rosalind cried, clutching the useless potion.

But something strange began to emerge.

When Ministry experts investigated, undeniable traces were found: this fire was no accident.

Signs of the Flagrante Curse had been deliberately activated, and more importantly, a strange symbol—a serpent devouring the moon—was found engraved on Esther's doorframe, untouched by the flames.

"This is an assassination," a Ministry official said grimly. "Someone deliberately targeted your sister."

Rosalind, with her vast knowledge of poisons and dark magic, whispered:

"That symbol... I've seen it somewhere. It belongs to a secret cult."

Her face went pale.

"The Black Moon Cult—it's a group of fanatic followers of Lord Voldemort, even more extreme than the Death Eaters. They believe that by sacrificing gifted pure-blood children on a full moon night, they can resurrect him."

Gideon's face darkened.

"I swear I will find whoever did this."

He clenched his jaw, eyes freezing into the void. Rosalind shivered, voice full of rage:

"The Black Moon Cult... those bastards... how dare they touch our sister..."

Orion, only seven years old at the time, stood silently in Gideon's arms. The pain of losing his sister mixed with rising fury. He no longer cried—only a terrifying calm remained. "They will pay," he whispered, voice small but resolute. "All of them..."

From that day, Orion's family's life changed completely. Gideon left his stable Ministry job to hunt the remnants of dark magic. Rosalind devoted herself to researching counter-curses and secret cults. And Orion—he grew up with a single purpose: to become strong enough to protect the remaining family and avenge Esther.

Orion jolted out of the memory stream. He drew a deep breath, clenching his hands under the table. His gaze swept over Harry—the only remaining Potter child. Now he understood more than ever: Harry wasn't just an orphan in need of protection, he might also be the next target of dark forces.

"Everything alright, Uncle Orion?" Harry asked softly, noticing his somber expression.

Orion forced a smile:

"I'm fine, Harry. Just... reminiscing a bit."

Inside Orion, a decision had solidified: he would not only protect Harry from immediate dangers but also quietly investigate whether the Black Moon Cult was active at Hogwarts. Perhaps Sirius Black's escape and the appearance of the Dementors were not coincidences. Everything was connected, and Orion vowed to uncover the truth.