Harry Potter: Most Annoying System Ever

The ensuing week at Hogwarts was a spectacle of shattered illusions and frantic gossip.

The Great Hall buzzed constantly with the fallout of the ’Holographic Confession’. Students who had previously hung on Gilderoy Lockhart’s every word now vehemently denied ever liking him, frantically tossing his autographed photos into the fires of their common rooms.

Two days after the incident, the Daily Prophet arrived, confirming the rumors with devastating, front-page finality.

GILDEROY LOCKHART: FRAUD, OBLIVIATOR, COWARD!

Order of Merlin Stripped as Ministry Uncovers Decades of Memory Theft!

Orion sat at the Slytherin table, casually sipping his tea, watching the ripple effect of the headline. He didn’t need to read the article; he had essentially written it.

His gaze drifted to the Gryffindor table. Hermione Granger was staring at the newspaper, her face a mask of profound, world-shattering betrayal. She looked as though someone had just informed her that books were made of poison. She slowly lowered the paper, staring blankly ahead, looking utterly devastated.

Orion bit the inside of his cheek so hard it ached. He was fighting a losing battle of almost bursting into hysterical laughter. Keyword: Almost, Orion reminded himself, taking a long sip of tea to hide his twitching lips. Maintain the composure.

Later that afternoon, as Orion was heading toward the dungeons, he was intercepted by Daphne Greengrass.

The Ice Queen looked significantly lighter, the tension that had gripped her for weeks entirely absent. She fell into step beside him, ensuring the corridor was empty before speaking.

”My mother sent an owl this morning,” Daphne murmured, her voice soft but filled with genuine gratitude. ”The Ministry contacted my family. The Aurors found my uncle’s name in Lockhart’s personal, hidden ledgers during the raid on his London townhouse.”

She offered a small, rare smile.

”While restoring the memories for my grand-uncle will be difficult—perhaps impossible—the Ministry has assured us he will receive substantial reparations. And more importantly, the truth is out. He is receiving the credit he deserves for the Bandon Banshee.”

”I am glad to hear it, Daphne,” Orion replied politely, keeping his gaze forward. ”Justice, while slow, is occasionally satisfying.”

”Lockhart has been formally stripped of his Order of Merlin,” Daphne continued, a vindictive edge returning to her tone. ”My father says they are expediting the trial. He is slated to be sentenced to Azkaban by the end of the month.”

”A fitting retirement home for a man who steals lives,” Orion noted dryly.

He stopped at the top of the stairs leading to the dungeons, turning to face her. His expression shifted, the polite facade dropping to reveal the calculating Slytherin underneath.

”Just remember our arrangement, Daphne,” Orion said softly, his blue eyes holding hers. ”The truth is out. The debt is incurred. Do not forget that you owe me.”

Daphne scoffed, though the hostility was entirely performative. She rolled her eyes, adjusting the strap of her bag.

”With you reminding me every time I see you, Malfoy, I will hardly have the chance to forget,” Daphne retorted, though she offered a respectful nod before turning to head toward the common room. ”Thank you, Orion.”

”You are welcome.”

On the exact day the Daily Prophet announced Lockhart’s transfer to Azkaban, the familiar, satisfying chime echoed in Orion’s mind.

He was sitting alone on his bed, the heavy green curtains drawn tight.

DING.

[ ACHIEVEMENT UNLOCKED! ]

Tier: 2 (Advanced)

Name: The Critic’s Review

Description: You didn’t just expose a fraud; you engineered the spectacular, theatrical downfall of a celebrated Order of Merlin recipient in front of the entire school and the Auror department. You turned a beloved celebrity into a reviled criminal using nothing but a stolen painting and excellent audio editing. Five stars.

Reward: 1x Vial of Cognitive Reinforcement.

Orion opened his mental grid. A small, glowing vial of pale purple liquid sat in the newest slot.

”It’s a specialized mental booster,” Sparkle explained, her interface hovering nearby. ”It fortifies the physical and magical defenses of your brain against intrusive spells. But the real prize is the secondary effect. Given your recent actions and the activation of the Protagonist Halo... there is a high probability it will force a level-up on your Mind Arts.”

Orion didn’t hesitate. He retrieved the vial, popped the cork, and drank it down. It tasted like cold lavender and ozone.

He sat for a moment, waiting for a rush of power or a sudden migraine. Nothing happened.

”I don’t feel any different,” Orion noted, frowning.

”That’s because your Mind Arts are already trained well enough to absorb the shock without giving you an aneurysm,” Sparkle replied. She paused, her waveform shifting into a scanning pattern.

”Let me check your stats... Yep. There it is.”

The blue screen flashed a brilliant gold.

”The Protagonist Halo definitely catalyzed the upgrade. Congratulations, Orion. Your Mind Arts have officially leveled up to Level 2.”

Orion sat up straighter, his heart beating a little faster. ”Explain the parameters. What are the upgrades?”

”At Level 1,” Sparkle detailed, ”you were capable of deflecting passive Legilimency attacks. You could handle surface scans from people like Dumbledore by feeding them organized thoughts, provided they weren’t actively trying to breach you. However, you were entirely vulnerable to direct, aggressive attacks to your core—such as prolonged exposure to a Horcrux, or if Snape raised his wand and forcefully shouted ’Legilimens’.”

The diagram of the brain on the screen expanded, showing a much thicker, more robust shield around the core.

”With the Level 2 upgrade, your structural integrity is massively increased. You can now train yourself to actively deflect even directed, aggressive attacks from master Legilimens like Dumbledore or Voldemort.”

”I can block them?” Orion breathed, realizing the magnitude of the power.

”You can,” Sparkle confirmed. ”Though, of course, you still need to learn how to utilize the shield effectively. It’s a muscle you have to flex. It won’t hold automatically if you don’t brace for impact.”

She shifted the diagram, highlighting the frontal lobe.

”Furthermore, you can now begin learning active and passive Legilimency. Your mind is uniquely tailored to passively slip into the minds of those whose thoughts are unsynchronized or unguarded. Someone like Dumbledore or Snape will still detect you if you try to breach them—you aren’t a master yet—but reading the surface intentions of someone like Pansy, Draco, or an average Auror should be relatively easy once you practice.”

Orion let out a slow, exhilarated breath. Active defense and passive offense. It was the ultimate toolkit for navigating the treacherous waters of wizarding politics.

”Plus,” Sparkle added casually, ”the enhanced shielding means getting close to items layered with compulsion charms—like, say, a certain Diadem hidden in a room of junk—won’t affect you now. The soul-leeching properties will bounce off your Level 2 shields. Which means, if you wanted to, you could go deal with the Diadem in the Room of Requirement right now.”

Orion stared at the screen, the temptation strong. The Diadem was sitting there, a piece of Voldemort’s soul waiting to be claimed.

He looked at his calendar on the bedside table. It was May.

Orion shook his head, leaning back against the pillows.

”That’s good to know,” Orion murmured, his pragmatic nature overriding his greed. ”I will take it next year.”

”Next year? But you have the defenses now!”

”This summer, we have a massive amount of work to do,” Orion reminded her, gesturing toward his trunk. ”I have the Vanishing Cabinet to repair. The Patronus Charm to master because I doubt the my presence will alter the Weasley’s plans set for Egypt or Sirius Black’s eventual escape from Azkaban. I also have the Animagus potion, I am planning on unlocking it this Summer. There is no point in increasing our workload by adding another Horcrux disposal to the itinerary.”

He summoned a stack of parchment and a heavy Charms textbook from his bag.

”Besides,” Orion sighed, opening the book. ”With May incoming, it is best I start studying for the end-of-year exams.”

”You literally completed the syllabus in September,” Sparkle scoffed.

”The practicals are fine,” Orion agreed, dipping his quill in ink. ”I can perform the spells blindfolded. But I still need to review the written portions. Professor Binns is testing us on the Goblin Rebellions of the 15th Century, and I refuse to lose points because I forgot the specific date Ug the Unclean negotiated the treaty.”

He settled in, the chaos of the year finally yielding to the mundane necessity of academia.

”The Dark Lord can wait,” Orion decided, turning a page. ”Finals cannot.”