Harry Potter: Most Annoying System Ever

The anticipated climax of Draco Malfoy’s masterstroke occurred on a crisp, damp Tuesday evening, just as the sun dipped below the horizon.

Orion had been sitting comfortably in the Slytherin Common Room, midway through a rather dry Chapter on stabilizing runic arrays, when Draco materialized like a minor tornado. Before Orion could even mark his page, Draco had seized him by the sleeve, his grey eyes alight with a manic, unholy glee.

”It’s happening!” Draco hissed, practically hauling Orion out of his chair. ”I saw the shell cracking! Come on!”

”Draco, unhand my robes, they are Acromantula silk,” Orion chided, though he allowed himself to be dragged along. ”Where exactly are we going?”

”To Snape,” Draco whispered fiercely as they hurried down the dungeon corridor. ”We are going to catch them with the beast in their hands. They’ll be on the Hogwarts Express by morning!”

They reached Snape’s office. Draco didn’t even bother to knock politely; he hammered on the heavy oak door. It swung open to reveal the Potions Master hunched over a stack of essays, looking highly murderous at the interruption.

”Mr. Malfoy,” Snape said, his voice a dangerous silken threat. ”This had better be a matter of life and death.”

”It is, Professor!” Draco panted, stepping into the room. ”Potter, Weasley, and Granger! They are in Hagrid’s hut right now! And Hagrid is hatching a dragon! A real, live dragon! I saw the egg in the fire weeks ago, and it’s hatching right now!”

Snape’s quill snapped in his hand. The murderous annoyance vanished, replaced instantly by the cold, calculating predatory stillness of a striking snake. He looked from Draco’s flushed face to Orion’s perfectly composed one.

”A dragon,” Snape repeated softly.

”Draco only just informed me of this situation seconds ago, Professor,” Orion interjected smoothly, ensuring his own plausible deniability. ”Given the severity of the claim, and the fact that it involves three Gryffindors, I was about to suggest we immediately inform Professor McGonagall as well. It would be... prudent for her to witness her students’ transgressions firsthand. To avoid any accusations of House bias.”

Snape’s eyes narrowed slightly at Orion, recognizing the political astuteness of the suggestion.

”Indeed,” Snape murmured. He stood up, his black robes billowing. He drew his wand and gave it two sharp, precise flicks. Two silvery wisps of light erupted from the tip, darting through the stone ceiling and out of sight.

”I have sent messages to the Deputy Headmistress and the Headmaster,” Snape said, turning his terrifying gaze back to Draco. ”If this is a fabrication, Draco... if you are wasting my time on a schoolyard rivalry... I will personally ensure you are scrubbing cauldrons until your Seventh Year.”

Draco swallowed hard, but his vindictive smile held. ”It’s not a lie, sir. I swear it.”

”Follow me,” Snape commanded.

They swept out of the dungeons and out the heavy oak front doors. The night air was biting, the grass slick with dew. Snape moved with long, ground-eating strides, the twins jogging slightly to keep up.

As they approached the edge of the Forbidden Forest, the warm glow of Hagrid’s windows shone through the gloom. Orion could clearly see the silhouette of Ron Weasley pacing frantically past the glass.

They arrived just as Professor McGonagall came marching briskly down the slope from the castle, a tartan shawl thrown hastily over her shoulders. She looked severe, her lips pressed into a bloodless line, though Orion caught the briefest, imperceptible nod in his direction. She was playing her part perfectly.

Hagrid was outside, hauling a massive wooden bucket of water from the rain barrel. He froze when he saw the dark phalanx of Slytherins and the Deputy Headmistress converging on his doorstep.

”P-Professors!” Hagrid stammered, splashing water onto his massive boots. ”What’re yeh doin’ out ’ere this late?”

”Step aside, Hagrid,” Snape sneered, not breaking his stride as he pushed past the giant and threw the cabin door wide open.

”Wait, yeh can’t—!” Hagrid dropped the bucket and scrambled after them.

Orion followed Snape and McGonagall inside, taking up a position near the door, arms crossed, face carved from marble.

The interior of the hut was sweltering. The fire was roaring. Standing around the massive wooden table were Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, and Hermione Granger. They looked like they had just been caught trying to steal the Crown Jewels. Harry was pale, Hermione looked ready to pass out, and Ron was staring in absolute horror at Snape.

And there, sitting in the center of the table amidst shattered fragments of a black shell, was the ”beast.”

It was scaly. It had a long snout and stubby, malformed wings. It was currently pecking furiously at the wood of the table, letting out small, raspy squeaks.

”Good evening,” a mild voice spoke from the doorway.

Albus Dumbledore stepped into the crowded hut, ducking slightly to clear the frame. His blue eyes swept the room, taking in the terrified trio, the furious Snape, the triumphant Draco, and the composed Orion.

”I received a rather alarming message,” Dumbledore said mildly. ”Something about... illicit breeding?”

”Look at it!” Draco pointed an accusing finger at the creature on the table. ”I told you! It’s a dragon! They are harboring a Class XXXXX creature! That’s a minimum of a decade in Azkaban!”

”Now hold on a ruddy minute!” Hagrid bellowed, stepping in front of the table defensively, his massive hands trying to shield the creature. ”He’s just a baby! He wouldn’t hurt a fly! Though... he is a bit odd, I’ll admit.”

Hagrid looked down at the scaly thing with a mixture of immense maternal love and profound confusion.

”I tried givin’ him a bucket o’ brandy mixed with chicken blood, like the books say,” Hagrid muttered, scratching his beard. ”But he wouldn’t touch it. Turned his nose right up. All he wants to eat is the birdseed I keep fer the Bowtruckles. And he keeps tryin’ to roost on the teapot.”

Snape frowned, leaning closer to inspect the ”dragon.”

Orion bit the inside of his cheek. Hold it together. Do not laugh. Do not smile.

Professor McGonagall stepped forward, exhaling a long, theatrical sigh that commanded the room’s attention.

”Hagrid,” she said softly, though her voice carried the weight of profound disappointment. ”Step away from the table.”

Hagrid reluctantly moved aside.

McGonagall drew her wand. She pointed it directly at the scaly, squeaking hatchling.

”Finite Incantatem,” she pronounced clearly.

The spell washed over the creature. The black scales rippled, turning into soft, reddish-brown feathers. The stubby, malformed wings stretched out into perfectly normal wings. The long snout snapped back into a sharp, yellow beak. A bright red comb popped out of the top of its head.

The ”dragon” shook itself, ruffled its new feathers, looked at Snape, and let out a loud, healthy:

”BRAWK-BA-GAWK!”

Silence descended on the hut. It was absolute, heavy, and paralyzing.

Draco’s jaw dropped so far it practically unhinged. His triumphant pointing finger slowly drooped. ”But... but it was an egg! A black egg! In the fire!”

Snape stared at the rooster. He looked at Draco. The vein in Snape’s temple began to throb visibly.

Ron Weasley rubbed his eyes, staring at the bird as if he had lost his mind. Harry looked completely blank. Hermione let out a small, hysterical squeak.

”A... a chicken?” Hagrid whispered, looking heartbroken. ”Norbert’s a... a chicken?”

”A rooster, Hagrid, to be precise,” Dumbledore noted, his eyes twinkling so brightly they were almost blinding. He looked highly amused.

”I... I don’t understand,” Draco stammered, stepping back as Snape’s murderous glare shifted to him. ”It was a dragon! I saw the book!”

”You saw a transfigured chicken egg, Mr. Malfoy,” McGonagall said crisply, turning her stern gaze on the room at large. ”An egg that I personally enchanted to resemble a dragon’s, and which Professor Dumbledore and I swapped for the real contraband several days ago.”

Harry, Ron, and Hermione gasped simultaneously.

”You... you knew?” Hermione whispered.

”Of course we knew, Miss Granger,” McGonagall snapped, turning her full fury onto the three Gryffindors. Orion watched in silent appreciation as the trap he designed sprang shut.

”Did you honestly believe you could harbor a lethal, fire-breathing, highly illegal beast on school grounds without the faculty noticing?” McGonagall demanded, her voice rising. ”A beast that would have grown to the size of this hut in a matter of weeks? What was your plan?”

”We... we were going to send it to Charlie,” Ron mumbled, his face as red as his hair. ”In Romania.”

”And until then?” McGonagall pressed. ”You were going to risk the lives of every student in this school? Risk Mr. Hagrid being sent to Azkaban? And rather than coming to me, your Head of House, to fix this monumental error in judgment... you kept it a secret.”

Harry hung his head. ”We’re sorry, Professor.”

”Sorry does not prevent forest fires, Mr. Potter,” she said strictly. ”The intent was there. You fully believed you were hiding a dragon. The fact that it was a rooster does not absolve you of the reckless, arrogant assumption that you could handle this alone.”

She took a breath. ”Fifty points will be taken from Gryffindor. From each of you.”

”Fifty?!” Ron yelped.

”And detention,” she added ruthlessly. ”I will speak with Mr. Filch tomorrow regarding your tasks.”

She then turned, with terrifying slowness, to face Draco.

”As for you, Mr. Malfoy,” she said coldly.

Draco flinched.

”While I do not appreciate you roaming the grounds out of bounds to spy on your classmates, your intent was... to report a severe rules violation. Therefore, you will receive no detention.”

Draco let out a massive breath of relief.

”However,” Snape’s voice cut in, smooth and deadly. ”You dragged me out of my office, disrupted my evening, and almost caused a school-wide panic over a piece of poultry.”

Snape leaned down until his nose was inches from Draco’s. ”If you ever cry werewolf again, Draco, you will be dissecting horned toads for the rest of your natural life. Do you understand me?”

”Yes, sir,” Draco squeaked.

”Get out,” Snape ordered. ”Back to the dungeons. Both of you.”

Orion didn’t need to be told twice. He turned on his heel, maintaining his absolute mask of stoic indifference, and walked out the door. Draco scurried after him, thoroughly humiliated.

As they walked up the dark slope, Draco was sputtering. ”I don’t get it! How did they know? Why did they swap it? It makes no sense!”

Orion kept his face perfectly straight, staring ahead into the dark. Inside, his mind was a chaotic mess of howling laughter. He pictured the majestic, terrifying Norwegian Ridgeback bursting from its shell, only to let out a BRAWK-BA-GAWK!

I am a genius, Orion thought to himself. An absolute, unmitigated genius.

Behind them, in the hut, Hagrid could be heard sobbing loudly over his new, feathery son.

”I’m keeping him,” Sparkle’s voice vibrated with mirth. ”I’m naming him Norbert the Rooster. Ten out of ten, Orion. No notes.”

”Just another day saving the school,” Orion replied silently, a tiny, self-satisfied smirk finally breaking through his facade in the safety of the dark.