Harry Potter: Most Annoying System Ever

The sharp, synchronized flash of the Daily Prophet photographer’s camera finally ceased, leaving spots dancing in Orion’s vision. Cornelius Fudge, looking significantly more winded from holding in his stomach than he should have, stepped away from the massive, dead Basilisk. He patted his lime-green bowler hat into place and bustled back toward the group of waiting adults.

”A magnificent specimen! A truly magnificent victory for the Ministry!” Fudge beamed, clapping his hands together. He turned to the Head of the DMLE. ”What a well-done job, Amelia! The coordination! The response time! This will be the headline and the centerfold spread of the Daily Prophet for a few months, at least. ’Ministry Secures Hogwarts’!”

Amelia Bones didn’t offer a congratulatory smile. She simply stared at him through her monocle, her expression as flat and unyielding as the stone floor. ”The operation was a success, Minister. The primary concern now is the safe extraction of the venom sacs before they decompose.”

Orion watched the exchange with mild, calculated interest. The self-aggrandizing politician was ripe for exploitation.

A victory lap requires a magnanimous gesture, Orion reasoned, stepping forward smoothly before Dumbledore or Snape could interject. Let’s see how much PR he wants to buy.

”Indeed, Minister,” Orion agreed smoothly, capturing Fudge’s attention and the hovering Quick-Quotes Quill of Rita Skeeter. ”The sheer scale of this creature is terrifying. It is a monumental relief that the Ministry acted so decisively.”

Fudge puffed his chest out further. ”Always a pleasure to serve the magical community, my boy. Always.”

”And while we are discussing the historical significance of this operation,” Orion continued, his voice dropping into a solemn, almost mournful register that practically demanded silence from the surrounding adults. ”I wanted to bring another point of profound interest to the forefront.”

The group—which now included a bewildered Harry Potter, a scowling Ron Weasley, a recovered Hermione Granger, and the attentive figures of Dumbledore, McGonagall, and Snape—all turned to look at the twelve-year-old Slytherin.

Orion looked directly at the Minister, then let his gaze sweep across the damp, cavernous Chamber.

”About fifty years ago,” Orion began, his tone respectful but firm, ”back when this chamber was opened for the very first time... a tragedy occurred. A student, Myrtle Warren, died.”

He paused, letting the weight of the name settle. The ghosts of the castle were well known, and Moaning Myrtle’s misery was legendary.

”At the time, the blame for that horrific murder fell upon a fellow student,” Orion recounted, glancing toward Dumbledore, who was watching him with a sudden, intense focus. ”Mr. Rubeus Hagrid. Our current groundskeeper.”

Harry, Ron and Hermione exchanged a shocked look. This was news to them. Because of the fact that the diary never fell into Potter’s hands, this part was never uncovered by the trio.

Orion turned back to Fudge, his expression hardening into one of righteous indignation. ”Mr. Hagrid is a sweet, dedicated man who does not have a single bone in his massive body capable of harming a student with malice.”

He gestured a hand toward the mountain of green scales behind the Minister.

”The official Ministry record from that era stated that the monster responsible for Myrtle Warren’s death was an Acromantula—a giant spider that Mr. Hagrid was allegedly harboring.”

Orion stepped closer, his blue eyes flashing with absolute, undeniable logic.

”However, Minister, as we can all plainly see today... that was unequivocally false. The culprit that petrifies its victims and leaves no physical marks is not an arachnid. It is this specific, ancient Basilisk.”

He let the silence stretch for three beats, ensuring Rita Skeeter’s quill captured the implication perfectly.

”Which means,” Orion stated softly, ”that Rubeus Hagrid was innocent.”

The silence in the Chamber was absolute, save for the dripping of condensation from the vaulted ceiling and the efforts of the harvesting team.

McGonagall’s hand flew to her mouth, her eyes wide with sudden realization. Dumbledore’s face remained a mask of serene calm, but a distinct spark of approval lit his eyes.

”Back then,” Orion pressed on, turning the screws on the politician, ”Mr. Hagrid had his wand permissions permanently revoked. He was expelled from this school in disgrace. His life was irreparably altered.”

He leveled a cool, challenging stare at Fudge.

”That was a grave, monumental injustice perpetrated by the Ministry of an older era, Mr. Fudge. It was a failure of investigation.”

Fudge looked horrified. The idea of the Ministry admitting fault—even a fault from fifty years ago—was anathema to him. He stammered, pulling at his collar. ”Well, now, my boy, fifty years is a long time... the records... the evidence...”

”But now that the truth is literally lying dead at your feet, Minister,” Orion interrupted smoothly, offering the man a golden lifeline out of the political corner. ”This is your prime opportunity.”

Orion offered a bright, magnanimous smile, ensuring Rita’s camera angle captured them both perfectly.

”You have the power to correct this grave historical injustice today. You can be the Minister who not only secured Hogwarts from a mythical beast, but who also possessed the moral fortitude to right the wrongs of his predecessors. By formally pardoning Rubeus Hagrid and reinstating his rights to carry a wand.”

Orion stepped back, offering a polite bow to the Headmaster and the Head of the DMLE.

”I am entirely certain,” Orion concluded, his voice ringing with aristocratic confidence, ”that Headmaster Dumbledore and Madam Bones would wholly support and accept this course of action.”

Cornelius Fudge stared at the boy, his mind whirling. He looked at Rita Skeeter, who was nodding enthusiastically, her painted lips stretched into a shark-like grin. ’Minister Fudge: The Great Redeemer’ was a headline that would sell papers and win votes.

Fudge puffed his chest out, recovering his bluster instantly.

”Well!” Fudge boomed, clapping his hands together. ”When you put it like that, Mr. Malfoy... it is, indeed, a matter of paramount importance! The Ministry of Magic stands for justice above all else! I shall personally oversee the review of Mr. Hagrid’s case immediately upon my return to London!”

He nodded vigorously at Dumbledore. ”You have my word, Albus. The man shall have his wand back before the term ends.”

Dumbledore smiled, a genuine, warm expression that reached his eyes. ”Thank you, Cornelius. That is a truly noble gesture.”

Orion stepped back into the shadows of a stone pillar, crossing his arms and watching the adults congratulate themselves. Hagrid gets his wand, Fudge gets a positive headline, and Orion get the satisfaction of watching the lazy Minister’s office work efficiently for once.

And, more importantly, he had secured the absolute, unwavering loyalty of Rubeus Hagrid. A half-giant with a penchant for lethal creatures was a very useful friend to have in a castle full of secrets. Of course, the increase in trust of Albus Dumbledore by extension was a good deal as well.