Harry Potter: Most Annoying System Ever

The decision to shelf the Avis spell brought a strange sense of relief to Orion. He wasn’t quitting; he was simply acknowledging that his hardware couldn’t yet run the software. The rubber-chicken incident had been funny, but it was a waste of magical core stability. He needed to understand the ”source code” of life before he tried to compile it again.

Besides, he had a much bigger project to execute.

Saturday morning arrived with a blustery wind that rattled the windowpanes of the castle, perfect weather for Quidditch—or for disaster, depending on which team you supported.

At the Slytherin table, the mood was electric.

”McLaggen is going to be a disaster,” Draco said, practically bouncing in his seat as he shoveled eggs onto his plate. ”I heard him yelling at the Weasley twins yesterday about their Beater form. He told them to ’stop flying like headless chickens’. One of them looked like he was going to hit him with the bat.”

”Internal discord,” Orion noted, sipping his tea calmly. ”The best kind of sabotage is the kind the enemy inflicts upon themselves.”

”Exactly!” Draco grinned. ”Without a strong seeker, they have no ace. And with McLaggen disrupting the team dynamic... Slytherin is going to slaughter them. You’re coming, right Orion? To see the carnage?”

Orion set his cup down. ”Actually, Draco, I think I’ll pass.”

Draco stopped chewing. ”Pass? It’s Slytherin versus Gryffindor! It’s the match of the season!”

”I have absolute faith in the team,” Orion lied smoothly. ”My presence won’t change the outcome. Besides, the wind is howling. I’d rather not freeze my ears off just to watch McLaggen fly into a goalpost. I’ll wait in the common room and prepare the celebratory pumpkin juice.”

Draco looked disappointed, but the prospect of crushing Gryffindor was too exciting to dwell on his brother’s lack of spirit. ”Your loss. I’ll tell you every detail.”

”I count on it.”

By 10:30 AM, the Great Hall had emptied. The castle fell into a deep, echoing silence as the entire student body and most of the staff migrated down to the Quidditch pitch. Even Filch would be there, lurking near the stands to catch students having too much fun.

Orion stood in the Entrance Hall, listening to the distant roar of the crowd.

”Clear,” he whispered.

He turned and ascended the marble staircase. He didn’t run; he walked with purpose. He climbed to the sixth floor, checking his Astrum Navigator watch.

He ducked into an unused classroom. It was dusty and smelled of chalk.

”Sparkle,” Orion murmured. ”It’s heist time.”

”Finally,” Sparkle’s interface chimed, glowing with anticipation. ”I was getting tired of the library arc. Let’s steal some furniture.”

Orion reached into his inventory. He pulled out a small, crystal phial filled with a liquid that looked like liquid silver mixed with clear water.

[ Invisibility Potion (Absolute) ]

Duration: 30 Minutes.

Effect: Total visual concealment. Scent masking. Sound dampening (footsteps only).

”Bottoms up,” Orion whispered.

He uncorked the vial and downed it in one go. It tasted like cold air and mint.

The sensation was immediate. A chill washed over his skin, starting from his stomach and spreading to his fingertips. He looked down at his hands. They shimmered, turned translucent, and then vanished completely. He looked in a dusty mirror in the corner.

Nothing. No reflection. Just the empty room.

”Perfect,” Orion’s voice whispered, though even that sounded slightly muffled.

He slipped out of the classroom and moved toward the seventh floor corridor with the tapestry.

He counted his steps. Left foot, right foot. The potion dampened the sound of his boots on the stone, making him a true ghost.

He stopped in front of the blank stretch of wall opposite the tapestry of Barnabas trying to teach trolls ballet.

”Focus,” Orion told himself.

He began to pace. Three times.

I need a room that is empty.

I need a room that is empty.

I need a room that is empty.

He didn’t ask for the Room of Hidden Things. He didn’t ask for a place to hide. He asked for a blank slate.

On the third pass, the stone wall rippled. A highly polished door materialized from the brickwork.

Orion turned the handle—an invisible hand gripping brass—and stepped inside.

The room was exactly what he asked for. A perfect, white circle. No windows. No furniture. Just a vast, empty space illuminated by unseen light sources.

Orion closed the door. He walked to the center of the room and stood there.

He closed his eyes.

”I know it’s here,” Orion said aloud to the empty air. ”Somewhere in your inventory, Room. The Vanishing Cabinet. The twin to the one at Borgin and Burkes. Bring it to me.”

The room rumbled. He opened his eyes. The white floor in front of him seemed to dissolve into a mist.

Slowly, rising from the floor like a coffin surfacing from a grave, a tall, black shape appeared.

It clicked into place. The mist cleared.

There it stood. The Vanishing Cabinet.

It was identical to the one Orion had bought, down to the ominous dark wood and the intricate, albeit dusty, carvings.

Orion circled it. He checked for damage.

”Intact,” he noted.

In the canon timeline, Peeves smashes this cabinet a few years later. That act breaks the entire magical connection, forcing Draco to spend his sixth year repairing it.

But right now? It wasn’t broken. It was just lost. Disconnected.

”It doesn’t need repairing,” Orion realized, running a hand over the smooth wood. ”It just needs to be paired. The harmonic resonance is dormant.”

He stepped back. He knew what else the room held. The Diadem of Ravenclaw was here, somewhere, buried in the Room of Hidden Things configuration.

A Horcrux. A piece of Voldemort’s soul.

Orion clenched his invisible fists. The temptation to find it, to secure it, was immense. But he remembered the feeling of the Blackthorn wand rejecting him. He remembered the feeling of the Avis spell failing because he lacked understanding.

He was eleven. He had no Occlumency shields. If he touched that Diadem, or even got close to it, the soul fragment could leech into him. It could twist him.

”Not today,” Orion said firmly. ”I am not arrogant enough to dance with a Dark Lord’s soul without armor.”

He turned his focus back to the cabinet.

”Inventory.”

The grid appeared in front of him.

He placed his hand on the cabinet.

”Store.”

ZAP.

The massive piece of furniture vanished instantly. In his inventory grid, a new icon appeared:

[ Vanishing Cabinet (Hogwarts Twin) - Stored ]

”Gotcha,” Orion breathed.

”Heist complete,” Sparkle cheered. ”Clean. Professional. Now get out before the potion wears off.”

Orion turned to the door. ”Thank you, Room.”

He slipped out into the corridor. The door vanished behind him, returning to solid stone.

He checked his mental timer. Fifteen minutes left on the potion. Plenty of time.

He walked back to the abandoned classroom on the sixth floor. He sat down in a corner, waiting. He watched the dust motes dance in the light.

Slowly, the sensation of cold faded. His hands flickered back into view. His reflection returned in the mirror.

Orion stood up, dusting off his robes. He checked his pockets. He checked his holster.

”Mission accomplished,” he grinned.

He left the classroom and made his way leisurely down the stairs, heading for the dungeons.

By the time he reached the Slytherin Common Room, it was deserted. The match was likely still going on.

Orion sat in his favorite armchair by the fire. He pulled The Unedited History of Hogwarts from his bag and opened it to a Chapter on ”The Architectural Anomalies of the Seventh Floor.”

Twenty minutes later, the stone door ground open.

The Slytherins poured in. They were loud. They were cheering.

Draco burst into the room, his face flushed with victory.

”We won!” Draco shouted, spotting Orion. ”Orion! We crushed them! 170 to 60! It was a massacre!”

”Do tell,” Orion closed his book, smiling. ”I assume McLaggen was involved?”

”He hit a Bludger at his own Keeper!” Draco laughed hysterically, collapsing onto the sofa next to Orion. ”He knocked Wood off his broom! It was the funniest thing I’ve ever seen! The Gryffindors were screaming at him! A Seeker taking a Beater’s bat.”

”And without someone like say Potter to pull a miracle save...” Orion prompted.

”The Snitch was just hovering there!” Draco crowed. ”Terence caught it easily. Gryffindor is ruined! We’re leading the Cup!”

The common room turned into a party. Butterbeer was produced (smuggled in by the older students). Music started playing.

Orion sat in the middle of the celebration, sipping a butterbeer. He watched his housemates celebrate a Quidditch victory, oblivious to the fact that their quietest member had just stolen a gateway that could bypass the castle’s defenses.

”Achievement Unlocked,” Sparkle whispered.

Tier: 2 (Advanced)

Name: The Silent Repo Man

Description: You stole school property. Massive, magical, antique school property. You infiltrated the Room of Requirement, retrieved a pivotal plot device before it could be destroyed by a poltergeist, and stashed it in your pocket dimension. And you did it all while everyone was watching a ball game.

Reward: 1x Skeleton Key (One-time use. Opens any lock, magical or mundane).

Orion tapped his finger against the bottle. A Skeleton Key. Always useful.

”To Slytherin,” Orion toasted softly, raising his bottle to the room.

”To Slytherin!” Draco coincidently shouted at the same time to the crowd.

Orion drank. The Cabinet was safe. The timeline was secure—or rather, securely under his control. Now, he just needed to wait for the holidays to link them up.