Orion Schiltz turns in annoyance.  "What do you want, Black?"

The dark haired boy grins back.  "If you help me with something, I'll buy you a butterbeer next weekend at Hogsmeade."

"Throw in a fire whisky and it's a deal."

His smile doesn't even flicker.  "Deal."

Orion sighs.  "What do you want me to do?"

"I've been banned from the owlery for...private reasons.  I need someone to post a letter for me."

"You mean you got caught plucking feathers from your brother's owl."

"I needed a new quill."

The dark skinned boy raises an eyebrow.  "Where's the letter?"

Sirius hands him a folded piece of parchment, sealed with a handmade crest.  "It's for Alastair Moody."

"Mad-Eye?"

He nods.

"Why do you need to send him a letter?"

"Secret."  He presses his finger to the side of his nose and raises an eyebrow.  With a grin, he turns and leaves.

"Wait!  You can't just tell me to post this and not give me an explanation!"

"Sure I can!  I'm buying you a fire whisky."

Orion mutters curses under his breath and he walks to the owlery.  He goes to one of the school's owls and tells it to find Alastair Moody.  As the barn owl disappears into the night, he wonders what exactly he may have gotten himself into.

Back in Gryffindor Tower, Sirius, Remus, James, and Peter are gathered around a bit of parchment.  The inseparable four hide it when he approaches.

"Black, I need an explanation.  What in Merlin's Beard was that?"

"Schiltz, I told you that I can't tell you."

"Bastard," Orion mutters under his breath.

"I am not a bastard any more than you are," he says, standing.

He's a good five centimeters taller than the darker boy.

"Well at least I've still got family who likes me," Orion hisses.

He isn't startled when Sirius shoves him backwards, drawing his wand.  The raging pure blood yells a hex and he deflects it.

"Expelliarmus!" Orion yells as the other three hold their friend back.

He watches them go coolly, then busies himself with stoking the fire.  Everyone avoids him.  He wishes, not  for the first time, that his brother, Cygnus, were a Gryffindor and not a Slytherin.

The next day at breakfast, the four sit with him.  He stays on guard, aware of his wand sticking half out of his pocket, in case one of them decides to have a duel in the Great Hall.

"Sorry for being such a prick yesterday;" Sirius mutters.

Orion is struck with a pang of remorse.  "If anyone was a prick, it was me.  I'm sorry, Sirius."

He waves it off.  "Hogsmeade is in three days, but in the meantime, can I add more to my bill?"

"What do you mean?"

"Do you know how to make a howler?"

Despite his better judgment, Orion find himself folding a piece of red paper into an envelope and enchanting it.  "Alright, write out your message on this piece," he says, pushing a page of parchment over to the schemer.

A minute later, he passes the parchment back.

Orion finishes the Howler and seals it, handing it over to Sirius. He slides it back.

"I can't post it, remember?"

He scowls. "No."

"Please? I'll add a chocolate frog."

"You already owe me a butterbeer, fire whisky, sugar quill, and now a chocolate frog. Where are you getting this money?"

Sirius shrugs. "Here and there."

Orion doesn't question it. "Who's it to?" He holds his quill over his hand, ready to write to it down.

"Severus Snape."

"No." He slams the quill to the table and the feather breaks.

"Why not?"

"Because I'm not taking part in your bullying."

"It's just some fun. Besides, he insulted Lily."

"I don't care if he insulted the Queen of England. I'm not doing it."

"I'll buy you a new cloak."

Orion looks down at his fraying robe. With three students at Hogwarts, it's difficult to clothe all three well and frequently. He's had the same robe since fourth year, and he was soon to leave altogether. The only one who had her own robe all seven years, a new one every other year, was Europa, and that's because she's the oldest and a girl.

"Fine."

Sirius pumps his fist once. "Thanks, Schiltz."

"You owe me a lot."

"And it shall all be repaid, in due time, my good sir." He stands and gives a short bow.

Orion rolls his eyes, but he's smiling.

The disowned Black skips out of the room.

Before he seals the letter, he tidies his desk and cleans up the bit of ink Sirius spilled. Then he heads off to the owlery. The owl looks confused, but flies off and back in anyways, dropping the letter in a pile of mail ready for that night's dinner.

Then he leaves.

When the post comes in, he grabs his letter and hurries out of the Great Hall. As he shuffles down the hallway, he hears the Howler begin and jogs faster.

Peter is in the common room, snacking on a plate of cheese and bread on a couch.

"What's up?" he asks with his mouth full.

"Why aren't you in the Great Hall?"

"Why aren't you?" the mousy boy retorts.

Orion raises his eyebrow and puts his hand on his hips.

"It's too loud in there. I don't like it. Why did you leave?" Peter shoves another piece of cheese in his mouth.

"Snape got a Howler and I didn't want to witness his embarrassment."

"Isn't that the Howler you made?" he asks, mouth still full of sharp cheddar.

Orion grimaces, at both the lack of manners and his own act. "Yes."

"One of us, one of us," Peter chants quietly.

With a sigh, the black boy heads upstairs to his room, where he opens his letter. It's from Mum and Dad, and details every escapade of their cat, Spots. The most stereotypical cat name imaginable, for the least normal cat imaginable. His father had transmogrified a cushion into a cat, and the cat had a tendency to lay extremely still on the couch until one was sure it was dead, then sprint up the stairs to converse with a pillow in hushed meows.

If that isn't strange enough, Spots only eats terry cloth and cotton batting.

His father keeps threatening to turn the cat back into a cushion, but now that all three are away doing things (in Europa's case, her job; in the boys' case, school), they need a bit of company.

His two roommates, Frank Longbottom and Joe Pillfer, announce their arrival with boisterous laughter.

"Did you see his face?" Longbottom asks.

Though he can't see, Orion imagines Pillfer's face, making an imitation of how poor Severus must have looked. He folds the letter and stuffs it in his trunk.

"Oi!" Longbottom chirps.

"Oi!" Orion calls back, turning with a smile.  "What are you two going on about?"

"Haven't you heard?" Pillfer asks.  "Snape got a Howler from Sirius."

"And Sirius said you'd written it.  I would have thought you'd be there to watch it," Longbottom says.

He shrugs.  "Oh.  That."

"Just 'oh that'?  That was the best bloody prank I've seen in all seven years that we've been here."

"Really?"

"Yeah!  And the Marauders let you in on it?  Yer a bloody legend, you are!" Pillfer chortles.

"Hm."

"See, he don't even know what this means for him," the red headed boy stage whispers to the boy with the large ears.

Longbottom sighs dramatically. "Poor Schiltz."

Orion sighs. "Honestly? It's embarrassing. But if you think I'm jolly well the best prankster in Hogwarts then you'd both better watch your backs." He brushes past them and heads downstairs.

The four marauders are basking in their renewed attention in the common room.

"And here comes the mastermind himself!" James exclaims, letting Lily Evans go to stand and clap the dark boy on the back.

"Not really the mastermind," Orion mutters, but he doesn't hear.

"Orion Schiltz is the master wizard behind Snivellus' Howler!"

Despite what he thought of as high morals, he finds himself enjoying his housemates' praise. From there on out, he becomes the Marauder's go to man. He is addicted to the popularity he gains among Gryffindors with each successful prank.

It's no surprise to anyone that, after they graduate from Hogwarts and Tom Riddle rises, that he is one of the first inducted into the Order of the Phoenix, named after Dumbledore's Fawkes.

One day, he's bouncing little Neville Longbottom on his knee during a meeting when Sirius stresses the need for someone to keep an eye on Severus.

"Lily and I need to stay with Harry for a little while," James says, glancing over at his redhead wife and dark haired son.

"I'm in the same predicament," Alice Longbottom says, taking Neville from Orion when he starts to fuss.

"I'll go," the dark man says, relinquishing the child.

"You will?" Remus asks.

"Of course. I'm here for a reason."

"It will be dangerous, you know that. He probably knows you're in the Order."

"But he definitely knows all of you are here. I'm the only uncertain one. Remember, the first time I pranked him was late in our seventh year."

"That's true," Moody muses.

"I'm going to spy on him. Where should I go?"

Dumbledore clears his throat. "I've just given him the position of Potions Professor, and we are in need of a Defense against the Dark Arts Professor."

He raises an eyebrow. "I don't know much about that."

"You know enough. I've got plenty of texts in my office and the library you may use."

Orion straightens his shoulders. "I suppose it's arranged then."

"So it is," the Headmaster agrees. "School starts in a week. I'd recommend you come tomorrow at the latest. You may apparate to the Forbidden Forest, where the train station is at Hogwarts to cut back in traveling time. I'll send Hagrid for you."

"Thank you," Sirius says, but the man has already disapparated. "On to our next order of business."

Eight hours later, Orion stands alone in the Forbidden Forest, waiting for the game keeper to fetch him. He has two trunks with him, full of books and items from the Order, including James' prized possession: the invisibility cloak. He'd insisted that he take it, as protection, and because it's easier to maintain than a disillusionment charm, just in case he has to sneak around after Snivellus. When Hagrid arrives, he's driving a cart pulled by seemingly nothing.

Sirius once explained that there are really thestrals pulling the carriages, but nobody who hasn't seen death can see them.

Orion helps the half-giant load his trunks and they start the trek around the Lake.

"So, yer the new Defense teacher?" Hagrid asks.

Orion nods, looking up at the castle that he left not that long ago.

"And yer workin' along with yer friend Snape, yeah?"

"I wouldn't quite call him my friend."

"Ah, I heard 'bout ye and the marauders. Better keep outta 'is way then."

"I'll try to make amends," Orion tells him. "I don't know how willing he'll be to accept them."

They pull up to the door.

"Do ye want me help?"

"No, thank you, Hagrid. Thank you for your hospitality and your time." He charms the trunks and they float next to him.

He nods and clicks to the thestrals. The cart moves on quietly.

After settling into his room — pointed out to him by McGonagall — Orion decides to check out his classroom.

It's bare and dark, with hardly anything in it. He knows there are some things he can bring down from his room, and Dumbledore has already offered him help, but it seems like an impossible task, having the room ready for when the students arrive in six days. He hears someone in the door behind him and turns.

"Severus," he says with a nod, recognizing the classmate.

"Schiltz." His voice has gotten lower and more droning.

"I hear you are the newest potions professor," the black man says in an effort to make conversation.

"Mhm." Snape slips past him to look around the room. "I asked for this position but Albus gave it to you. It makes sense. He always did favor the Gryffindors more."

"You already call him Albus?" Orion asks, cocking an eyebrow.

"We are coworkers now." He slicks dust off of a shelf and investigates it. "I'll leave you to your classroom then."

If Orion had been Snape and vice versa, he would have bumped the greasy-haired wizard out of the way. Instead, he avoids the him as though he's afraid the Gryffindor will jinx him if he dares ruffle a crease of his robe.

It strikes a pang of regret into his chest.

He doesn't have time to dwell on it, however, because a minute later, McGonagall comes in, hovering a box of books with her wand.  "Albus sent this for you."

"Ah, thank you."  He glances around.  "Just put them on the table, and I can take care of them."

"Keeping an eye on Severus?" she asks quietly as she passes him.

He nods.  "That's my job."

"Well, be careful.  He's never been the kindest of people -- a Slytherin through and through -- but he's especially bitter about not receiving this position."

"So I've found."

She gives him a friendly nod and leaves the classroom.  Over the next few days, Orion prepares for his students.

Not only does he have to get his room ready, he has to prepare himself mentally as well. He's never been a fan of crowds of new people, even though most of the students from year four and up he'll at least have seen around school before he left.  He isn't sure of that makes him more or less nervous about this whole endeavor.

And this is different from most other missions he's done for the Order.  He has to fool an entire school into thinking he's nothing more than a professor who assigns them homework and chastises them in the halls, not to mention the fact that Snape has been learning Legilimency since the end of their seventh year.

Unfortunately, Orion is not the best man for the job.

Halfway through the school year, he is rudely awakened by a student because of an emergency.

"Wait just a moment and I'll be there," he says, throwing on his robe and rubbing the sleep from his eyes.  With his wand in one hand, he opens the door.

"What is it?"

"Headmaster wants you out front."

"What's going on?"

He shrugs.   "Something bad, I suppose."

Orion sighs and follows the boy through the halls and out the front doors.  He looks around to see what's going on.

The only person outside is Snape.

Before he can react, the Potions Professor has stunned him.  He watches helplessly as the boy is sent back to the Slytherin dormitories with a promise of one hundred points per question answered correctly the next day. Then Snape flicks his wand and he's hovering above the ground, following the treacherous prof into the Forbidden Forest.

As soon as it's possible, Snape disapparates, dragging Orion with him.

He's surprised that no part of him was splinched when they appear in what seems to either be a dungeon or a basement.  Perhaps both.

They are alone.

At least, that's what it looks like, but he's proven wrong when figures in dark cloaks and silver masks melt from the shadows.  A crack gives one of the Death Eaters' arrival away.

A harrowed man steps forward.

He circles Orion, then nods to Snape.  Wordlessly, the stunning spell is lifted.

The Order member drops to his knees from the sudden lack of resistance and wisely stays there.

"Orion Schiltz," the man says.

"Tom Riddle," he replies.

"Voldemort!"  It's a hiss, not like any human should sound.

He doesn't respond.

"Severus says he's caught a spy for Dumbledore."

"He lies."

"He is skilled in legilimency, as you know."

"No."

"Severus," Voldemort says, stepping aside.

"Yes, my lord."  Snape snaps to attention.

"Find out who told him to spy on you."

He nods and raises his wand.  Orion expects a high powered spell that probes the memory or forces the truth.

Instead, Snape yells, "Crucio!" and intense pain rips through his body.

Orion falls on his face, writhing with pain.  His mind goes blank, nothing but the effects of the curse registering in his mind.  When it's over, he finds himself curled up on his back, tears beading off of his hair.

He groans and closes his eyes again.

"Who sent you?"

Orion rolls to his front, then pushes himself onto his knees.  With much strain, he sits back on his heels, spine ramrod straight.  Instead of answering, he meets Severus' eyes defiantly.

"Crucio."

Again, pain.

And again he lifts himself.

Snape seems to be enjoying it, taking out all of his pent-up rage against him and his marauder friends on him.

Finally, he can't sit up.  He's been crucio'd at least half a dozen times.

"One last chance, Schiltz," Severus says.

Orion sees the Death Eater's boots an inch from his nose.  "The prophecy," he whispers.

"What?"

He doesn't repeat it.  Snape casts the curse again.

This time he hardly moves.  When the curse stops, but the pain still continues to throb, he says again, "The Prophecy."

Voldemort paces before him.  He watches through sparking vision

"Find who the prophecy refers to!"

Snape says something that he doesn't hear.  Voldemort responds.

Orion thinks he reads "I'm sorry," on Severus' lips before he says aloud, "Avada Kadavra," and everything is gone.