Harry Potter: Most Annoying System Ever

The morning of their thirteenth birthday arrived under a cloud of heightened security and pervasive anxiety. Malfoy Manor felt less like a home and more like a besieged fortress. The heavy iron gates were locked, the enchantments on the boundary walls shimmered with a visible, aggressive blue light, and Lucius was constantly consulting a magical perimeter mirror in his study.

Draco was in a foul mood.

He sat at the breakfast table, poking listlessly at a plate of perfectly scrambled eggs. The promised gala—the event he had spent the last a month and half planning outfits for—was officially cancelled.

”It’s completely unfair,” Draco grumbled, resting his chin in his hand. ”Why should my birthday be ruined just because some crazy Gryffindor managed to slip past the Dementors? The Aurors will catch him in a week.”

Orion, methodically peeling an orange, didn’t bother offering sympathy. He had no idea what specific modifications Lucius had made to the ancestral wards, but he suspected they were robust enough to repel anything short of a direct assault by Dumbledore himself. Besides, Sirius Black wouldn’t come anywhere near Wiltshire anyway.

”Sulking is a poor use of a birthday, Draco,” Orion noted, popping a slice of orange into his mouth. ”Father is acting out of an abundance of caution. It is irritating, but necessary.”

”It’s boring,” Draco whined. ”There is absolutely nothing to do.”

Orion sighed, wiping his fingers on a napkin. He stood up, deciding that dealing with a miserable Draco all day was a fate worse than studying Goblin treaties.

”Get your trunks on,” Orion instructed. ”It’s pool time.”

Draco’s scowl lessened slightly, though he still looked sullen. ”It’s just a pool, Orion. We’ve been swimming in it all summer. It’s not a party.”

”Just get dressed, Draco. And meet me at the south lawn.”

Ten minutes later, Draco trudged out to the marble basin hidden behind the yew hedges, wearing his emerald green swimming trunks. The water was perfectly heated, sparkling under the summer sun.

”I’m borrowing the float,” Draco announced immediately, shedding his towel and pointing at the translucent blue lounger drifting in the shallow end. ”It’s my birthday, so you have to let me.”

”I accept your terms,” Orion agreed generously, sitting on the edge of the coping stones. ”Consider it a gift. Rent-free for the day.”

Draco didn’t need to be told twice. He ran, jumped, and cannonballed into the water, surfacing with a gasp before scrambling onto the floating lounger. He sighed heavily, leaning back. ”It’s still not a gala.”

”Give me a minute,” Orion said, turning his back to the pool.

He reached into his inventory and pulled out the reward he had received for his pragmatic analysis of the Chamber of Secrets entrance.

[Toy Slide (Plastic, brightly colored. Suitable for small rodents)]

It looked exactly as described. It was a bright, obnoxious neon yellow and primary blue plastic slide, about ten inches tall, the kind you might put in a hamster cage.

”Right,” Orion murmured, examining the toy. ”Let’s see if we can upgrade the aesthetics.”

He drew his Hawthorn wand. He didn’t want the slide to break under their weight, nor did he want it separating at the seams.

He pointed his wand at the joints connecting the ladder to the slide piece. ”Epoximise.”

The localized sticking charm sealed the plastic together with the strength of magical superglue. The toy was now a single, solid piece.

Next, Orion stepped back, ensuring he had enough clearance. He visualized the final product: massive, sturdy, and towering over the deep end of the pool. He poured his intent into the magic, pushing past the limitations of the toy’s original design.

”Engorgio!”

The spell struck the plastic. With a loud, groaning sound of rapidly expanding matter, the toy shot upward and outward. It grew exponentially, the bright plastic stretching until it stood nearly fifteen feet tall, the slide curving down aggressively toward the water.

Orion grabbed the base of the massive structure, dragging it to the edge of the deep end. He positioned the end of the slide so it hung directly over the water.

He aimed his wand at the base of the plastic ladder. ”Adhaero.”

The base fused seamlessly to the marble coping stones, locking the slide firmly in place.

Orion dusted off his hands, admiring his handiwork. It was gaudy, it was undeniably Muggle in its design, and it completely ruined the aristocratic elegance of the marble pool. It was perfect.

He turned back to the water.

Draco had paddled the float closer, his jaw hanging open as he stared at the neon monstrosity towering over the pool.

”What... what is that?” Draco breathed.

”That,” Orion declared, kicking off his sandals, ”is an amusement park ride.”

He climbed the plastic ladder quickly, the steps holding his weight easily. He reached the top platform, looking down at the water fifteen feet below.

”Whee,” Orion deadpanned with absolute, monotonous sarcasm.

He pushed off.

The friction was minimal. He shot down the yellow plastic curve with surprising speed, launching off the lip and hitting the deep end with a massive, resounding SPLASH, sending a tidal wave of water crashing over the sides of the pool.

He surfaced, pushing his wet hair out of his eyes, treading water.

Draco was staring at him, his eyes wide, his sulky mood entirely forgotten. He looked at the slide, then at Orion.

”My turn,” Draco shouted.

He practically threw himself off the float, swimming frantically to the edge. He scrambled out of the pool, his wet feet slipping slightly on the marble before he grabbed the ladder. He climbed to the top, his face splitting into a massive, unadulterated grin.

”WHEEEEE!” Draco shrieked, genuine joy lacing his voice as he hurled himself down the slide.

He hit the water with a chaotic splash, surfacing a moment later, coughing and laughing hysterically.

”This is awesome!” Draco yelled, swimming back to the ladder. ”Best birthday ever! Go again! We can race!”

Orion watched his brother scramble up the ladder for the second time, a small, satisfied smile touching his lips.

DING.

The familiar chime echoed in his mind, nearly drowned out by the sound of Draco hitting the water again.

The blue interface popped up, hovering above the ripples.

[ ACHIEVEMENT UNLOCKED! ]

Tier: 1 (Basic)

Name: The Muggle Corruptor

Description: You have successfully gotten a pureblood supremacist, a boy raised to despise anything non-magical, to enthusiastically embrace a massive piece of brightly colored, mass-produced Muggle plastic. Draco Malfoy is currently shrieking with joy on a water slide. You are eroding the foundations of prejudice with sheer, unadulterated fun.

Reward: 1x Remote Controlled Car (Toy. No batteries required).

Orion checked his inventory. A small, sleek, red sports car sat in a new slot, complete with a dual-joystick controller.

”No batteries required,” Sparkle’s voice hummed with approval. ”That’s the best part. You don’t have to explain Duracell to Lucius.”

”It’s a nice gift for a Tier 1,” Orion murmured, pushing off the wall to swim a lazy lap while Draco climbed the slide for the fourth time. ”I can use it to annoy the peacocks.”

”Or race the Niffler,” Sparkle suggested.

”Or that.”

The rest of the afternoon was spent in a blur of splashing, sliding, and laughing. For a few hours, the looming threat of Sirius Black, the oppressive wards, and the cancelled gala were entirely forgotten. They were just two thirteen-year-old boys playing in the sun.

And as Orion watched Draco dive off the top of the slide, completely abandoning his pureblood dignity, he realized that sometimes, the most effective way to change a person wasn’t through logic or debate.

Sometimes, you just had to give them a water slide.