Draco had skipped classes for several days. It wasn't until the fifth morning, during the joint Slytherin-Gryffindor Potions lessons, that he finally showed up. He swaggered into the dungeon classroom, his right arm in a sling draped across his chest, as if he were a heroic survivor of some epic battle.

Pansy Parkinson smiled theatrically and asked,
"Feeling better, Draco? Bet it hurt a lot, huh?"

Draco gave a faint, brave smile.
"Yeah... it hurt." But as Pansy turned away, Harry caught him winking mischievously at Crabbe and Goyle.

Ron whispered to Harry,
"Look at him... acting like he's broken every bone in his body."

Professor Snape glided into the room like a massive black bat, cloak flaring behind him. He shot Draco a cold glance and ordered,
"Sit. Now."

Harry and Ron exchanged irritated looks. If they had arrived late, Snape would have had them sitting outside in detention.

"Good morning, Professor," Orion said calmly as he strolled in last, seemingly unbothered. Snape barely acknowledged him, a fact that left the other students bewildered. Orion's gaze swept over the Slytherins before settling on Neville, who fumbled nervously with his ingredients, face pale.

"Need a hand?" Orion asked softly, sliding into the seat beside him without waiting for a reply.

When Draco started his usual whining, "Sir, my hand..." and Snape immediately ordered Ron to assist, Orion merely shook his head. Quietly, he guided Neville through each delicate step:
"Chamomile roots, cut at an angle... tilt the spoon slightly... yes, just like that..."

Under Orion's patient guidance, Neville's potion gradually reached the correct color. As Snape passed by, the corner of his mouth twitched ever so slightly—Neville, who often failed spectacularly, was now succeeding.

"Longbottom," Snape said, voice icy, "for the first time in three years of teaching, I see you haven't turned this potion into poison. Perhaps the sun rises in the west today."

Neville shrank under the mocking gaze. Orion, seated beside him, allowed a tiny smirk.
"Perhaps it's due to proper guidance, Professor," Orion said gently, entirely free of provocation. "Sometimes a small hint is all it takes."

Snape's eyes narrowed, as if trying to pierce Orion's calm.
"How touching," he said, dripping with sarcasm. "Potter, the newcomer, achieves in minutes what I—after years—cannot. Perhaps I should step aside for you."

"Oh, I wouldn't dare," Orion replied, still calm. "I merely noticed Neville has a particular talent for discerning aromas—a rare skill in Potions."

Neville looked up, wide-eyed; no one had ever praised him for a "special talent" in this subject.

Snape snorted, cloak swirling as he turned away.
"Let's hope this 'talent' lasts longer than a single lesson."

As Snape disappeared, Neville exhaled in relief.

"Thanks..." he whispered to Orion.

"No problem," Orion replied with a smile. "Like I said, you have the talent—you just hadn't been shown how to use it."

The lesson was nearly over, and Neville's potion was almost perfect. But in a moment of careless excitement, he spilled a jar of bone dust into the mixture—a catastrophic mistake that turned the potion pitch black, emitting a thin stream of green smoke.

"Longbottom!" Snape roared, black cloak whipping across the room. "You've turned Shrinking Solution into poison! Planning to kill the whole class?"

Trevor, Neville's toad, jumped carelessly, a drop landing on him. The tiny creature shriveled, skin turning a sickly purple.

"Merlin! You have to help him!" Hermione exclaimed.

Snape's icy glare shifted to Hermione.
"Granger, five points from Gryffindor for giving orders to the professor. And another five for failing to prevent Longbottom's mishap."

Orion rose immediately.
"Professor, I accept responsibility. I was sitting beside him but failed to stop the accident."

Snape smirked.
"How noble, Orion. Ten points from Gryffindor for allowing a dangerous incident. Everyone, gather your things. Longbottom, take your toad to the infirmary immediately."

As Snape swept out, cloak flaring, Neville cradled Trevor and ran. Hermione muttered indignantly,
"This is so unfair! I only wanted to help!"

Orion watched Neville go, sighing.
"Sometimes even the best help can't prevent disaster... or favoritism."

Ron leaned toward Harry.
"At least Malfoy won't try anything after seeing us lose so many points." Indeed, Draco and the Slytherins remained unusually quiet, probably stunned by Snape's handling of the situation.

After delivering Trevor to the infirmary, Neville rushed back to Orion. He found him standing alone at the end of the corridor, gazing out the window.

"Orion... I'm sorry," Neville choked out. "You spent the whole lesson helping me, and I... I ruined it. And Gryffindor lost so many points..."

Tears streamed down Neville's cheeks.
"I'm useless. I always mess everything up."

Orion turned, placing a reassuring hand on Neville's shoulder.
"Neville," he said warmly, "that doesn't matter. What matters is that you almost succeeded. You completed 90% of the potion perfectly."

"But..."

"No 'buts,'" Orion cut him off. "Failure doesn't define you. How you face it does. And you ran straight to save Trevor—that's the part that matters."

Orion smiled, pulling a small bar of Chocolate from his pocket.
"Here. For you. And for Trevor. He'll be fine. Madam Pomfrey's excellent."

Neville clutched the chocolate, tears now of gratitude rather than frustration.
"Thank you... no one's ever said things like that to me before."

"Then from now on," Orion said, patting Neville's back, "believe in yourself. And remember, if you're ever stuck again, come find me."

As Neville walked away, shoulders lighter, Harry and Hermione watched from afar. Hermione whispered,
"Orion really knows how to encourage someone."

Harry nodded, a newfound respect swelling in him for his young "uncle." Perhaps Orion had come to Hogwarts not just to protect Harry, but to become a steady anchor for other young hearts as well.