Platform 9 ¾ was a swirling mass of steam, screeching owls, and frantic goodbyes. The apprehension hanging over the wizarding world since Sirius Black's escape was palpable, translating into tighter hugs and more panicked instructions from parents than usual.
Orion stood near the grand, scarlet engine of the Hogwarts Express, adjusting his collar against the damp London chill. Beside him, Draco was bouncing on his toes, eagerly surveying the crowd for any sign of Potter or Weasley.
Lucius offered a final, stern nod. "Remember what we discussed. Vigilance, Draco. Orion."
"Always, Father," Orion replied.
Narcissa stepped forward, ignoring the soot on the platform, and placed a hand on each of their cheeks. She leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to their foreheads.
"Keep an eye on each other," Narcissa murmured, her blue eyes filled with a quiet, fierce protectiveness. "Do not take unnecessary risks."
"We will, Mother," Orion promised, offering her a reassuring smile.
With a final wave, the twins boarded the train, walking down the crowded corridor. They claimed their usual compartment near the middle of the train.
Within minutes, the door slid open to admit Crabbe and Goyle, who grunted their greetings and immediately began arguing over distribution of the cupcakes they had carried with them. Pansy Parkinson followed shortly after, looking chic in a dark plum traveling cloak, and slid gracefully into the seat next to Draco.
Daphne Greengrass arrived last, carrying a sleek leather satchel and an air of pristine, icy detachment.
"Daphne," Orion nodded as she took her seat. "Where is Astoria? I thought she would be joining us for her first journey."
"She is in a compartment a few cars down with some other first-years," Daphne replied smoothly, stowing her trunk. "She wants to make her own friends. It is fine. She needs to establish her own footing."
Orion nodded, respecting the independence.
The train jolted forward, the whistle blowing a long, mournful blast as they pulled out of the station, leaving the grey expanse of London behind.
The conversation naturally drifted toward the inescapable topic of the summer.
"I still can't believe they're putting Azkaban guards around the school," Daphne murmured, a rare look of genuine discomfort crossing her features. "My father was furious. He says it's horrible. Dementors don't care about school rules or Ministry mandates. They just feed."
"They are foul creatures," Pansy shuddered, drawing her cloak tighter. "Just reading about them makes me cold."
Orion leaned back, watching the rolling green countryside blur past the window.
"True," Orion drawled, his voice cutting through the tension with a dry, melodic sarcasm. "They are monstrous entities that absorb all happiness and leave you with nothing but your worst, most terrifying memories."
He paused, a faint smirk touching his lips.
"But frankly, no matter how much joy a Dementor can drain from a room, I assure you... it cannot compete with the sheer, soul-crushing despair of Professor Snape making an unexpected entrance in front of a class of unprepared Gryffindors. That is true darkness."
Daphne let out a sudden, startled laugh, quickly hiding it behind her hand. Even Crabbe let out a guttural snort. The oppressive atmosphere in the compartment broke, replaced by the familiar, comforting rhythm of schoolyard banter.
The trolley witch arrived an hour later, and Orion bought a massive pile of Chocolate Frogs, tossing them onto the center table.
"Stocking up?" Draco asked, tearing into a Pumpkin Pasty.
"Chocolate is a well-known remedy for the effects of Dementor exposure," Orion lied smoothly, covering his tracks. "If the Ministry is deploying them, it pays to be prepared."
As the afternoon wore on, the sky outside began to darken prematurely. Heavy, charcoal-grey clouds rolled in, promising rain.
Draco, having finished his third Cauldron Cake, suddenly stood up, smoothing his robes with an air of sudden, malicious purpose.
"Right," Draco announced. "I'm going for a walk."
"A walk?" Pansy asked, looking up from her magazine.
"I need to go find Potter," Draco grinned, a nasty glint in his eye. "I want to see if he's crying about Black being after him. I bet Weasley is shaking in his hand-me-down shoes."
Orion let out a long, loud, incredibly theatrical sigh, dragging a hand down his face.
"Your fascination with Potter is truly staggering, Draco," Orion muttered, looking up at his brother with an expression of profound, weary disbelief. "Uncle Sev constantly refers to you as a dunderhead, but honestly, I would consider you more of a Potterhead at this point. You are obsessed with the boy."
Draco flushed a brilliant, angry red. "I am not obsessed! I hate him! I just want to mock him!"
"You can mock him at school," Orion said firmly, his voice dropping the teasing edge and becoming a sharp command. "We have not reached the castle yet. We are in transit. Sit down, Draco."
"Why?" Draco scoffed, his hand on the door handle. "What's he going to do? Hex me?"
"No," Orion said, his blue eyes locking onto his brother. "Because Father explicitly told us to stay close and not wander off on our own. There are threats around."
Draco rolled his eyes, a classic teenage display of invincibility. "What threats, Orion? It's not like anyone is going to attack the Hogwarts Express. Black is a lunatic, but he's not going to hijack a train full of students in broad daylight."
As if on cue, the train gave a violent, shuddering lurch.
The rhythmic clatter of the wheels began to slow rapidly. The screech of brakes echoed through the cars, loud and alarming.
Draco stumbled forward, catching himself on the doorframe as the train ground to a complete, unnatural halt in the middle of nowhere. The sound of the wind howling outside suddenly seemed incredibly loud.
Draco looked at Orion, his eyes wide. "Me and my big mouth."
"Sit. Down," Orion ordered, his voice cold iron.
Draco didn't argue. He scrambled back to his seat, wedging himself between Crabbe and Goyle. Daphne grabbed her wand from her robes, her knuckles white. Pansy let out a small whimper.
The lights in the compartment flickered, buzzed, and then died completely, plunging them into absolute, terrifying darkness.
The temperature plummeted instantly. It wasn't a natural chill; it was a physical, pervasive cold that seeped through their cloaks and bit into their bones.
"What is going on?" Daphne whispered, her breath visible in the freezing air.
Orion knew exactly what this was. The Dementors were searching the train. He knew, from his knowledge of the timeline, that the creatures would only attack Harry Potter due to the sheer volume of trauma in the boy's past. He knew his compartment was relatively safe.
But Orion was a Malfoy. And Malfoys did not rely on luck.
He stood up, his Hawthorn wand already in his hand. He pointed it directly at the sliding compartment door.
"Colloportus," Orion chanted softly, channeling his magic into a heavy, localized locking ward.
A faint, blue light rippled across the door, sealing it shut with the force of solid iron.
He lowered his wand, standing between the door and his terrified housemates.
The glass of the windows, and the glass of the compartment door, began to frost over, thick, jagged patterns of ice creeping across the panes as the air grew colder and the shadows outside deepened into something monstrous.