Harry Potter: Most Annoying System Ever

The physical sensation of the transformation was agonizingly weird. It wasn’t pain; it was a profound, total reorganization of his physical mass. His center of gravity shifted violently forward, his legs shortening and bending at impossible angles, while a sudden, immense weight blossomed along his shoulder blades.

Orion squeezed his eyes shut, utilizing every ounce of his Level 2 Mind Arts to maintain his human consciousness against the sudden, overwhelming instinctual urge to seek open water and preen.

The stretching sensation ceased. The world stopped spinning.

Slowly, carefully, Orion opened his eyes.

The perspective was entirely wrong. He was significantly closer to the floor of the trunk, yet his field of vision felt strangely wide. He turned his head—and his neck just kept turning, a long, incredibly flexible movement that felt both alien and entirely natural.

He waddled—yes, waddled—over to the full-length mirror he had conjured against the far wall of the study.

He stared at his reflection.

He opened his mouth to voice his profound, aristocratic disbelief.

SQUAWK!

Orion recoiled from the mirror, horrified by the sound that had just erupted from his own throat.

What the... am I a duck? Orion panicked internally, staring at the bright orange, black-knobbed beak in the reflection. I am a Malfoy! I cannot be a duck! I refuse to be a duck!

He flared his arms—no, his wings—in distress, sending a powerful gust of wind through the small room, knocking several pieces of parchment off his desk.

”Master Orion?!” Dobby shrieked, popping up from his hiding spot behind the ladder. The elf looked terrified, wringing his sweater. ”Master Orion is a big bird! Are you alright, Master? Does Dobby need to cast the freezing spell? Is Master stuck?”

Orion froze instantly.

The absolute last thing he needed right now was Dobby deciding that ’protecting Master’ meant hitting a highly unstable, newly formed Animagus with a Petrificus Totalus. Dobby’s protective instincts were legendary, and horribly flawed.

Orion took a deep, calming breath, forcing his human intellect to override the sudden, avian panic. He lowered his massive white wings, tucking them neatly against his sleek body. He looked at Dobby, offering a firm, controlled bob of his long neck to signal he was fine.

Dobby relaxed slightly, though he kept a wary eye on the beak. ”Dobby will wait. Dobby is watching.”

Orion turned his attention back to the mirror, examining his new form with clinical, detached precision.

He was not a duck. He was entirely too large, too elegant, and far too imposing. He was covered in pristine, blindingly white feathers that looked as soft as silk but felt strong and waterproof. His neck was long and curved gracefully, like a drawn bowstring. And while the body was avian, the eyes staring back from the reflection were unmistakably his own: sharp, intelligent, deep indigo blue.

”Well, well, well,” Sparkle’s interface bloomed above the mirror, her digital voice laced with intense amusement. ”Look who it is. The Ugly Duckling grew up. Though, to be fair, you skipped the ugly phase entirely.”

I am a swan, Orion communicated mentally, his annoyance warring with relief. A bloody swan.

”Specifically, a Mute Swan,” Sparkle corrected, pulling up a quick holographic infographic beside his reflection. ”An aggressive, highly territorial, fiercely protective waterfowl known for its elegance and its ability to absolutely batter anyone who steps into its personal space. Honestly, Orion? It fits you perfectly.”

Orion ruffled his feathers indignantly. It is a symbol of romance and beauty, Sparkle. I am neither of those things. I am a pragmatic strategist. I expected a raven. Or perhaps a predatory cat.

”Please,” Sparkle scoffed digitally. ”You are a Malfoy. You are vain, you demand clean water, you wear expensive clothes, and you viciously attack anyone who threatens your brother or your quiet time. You are the human equivalent of a territorial swan.”

Orion glared at the blue screen, but he couldn’t entirely refute the logic.

”Besides,” Sparkle added, her tone shifting to a more analytical hum. ”Think about the implications of the form. The Mute Swan is beautiful. People underestimate beautiful things. They see a swan on the Black Lake and think ’How lovely’, not ’That bird is currently plotting the downfall of the Dark Lord and mapping the castle’s defenses’. It is the ultimate camouflage in plain sight.”

Orion tilted his long neck, conceding the point. True. No one suspects the ornamental wildlife. But you are wrong about one thing.

”Oh?”

I am not beautiful, Orion stated firmly, admiring the sharp, dangerous curve of his orange and black beak. I am handsome.

Sparkle’s interface flashed a deadpan yellow. ”It’s a bird, Orion. It’s the same thing.”

No, it is not, Orion argued stubbornly. Beauty implies fragility. Handsome implies structure and capability. I am a highly capable waterfowl.

He turned away from the mirror, testing his mobility. The waddle was undignified, but when he stood still, his posture was incredibly regal. He was huge, too; standing fully upright, his head reached past Dobby’s head entirely.

Flight, Orion thought, extending his wingspan, which stretched nearly eight feet across the small room. I can technically fly.

”Yes, but keep in mind the biological limitations of the form,” Sparkle advised. ”Mute Swans are heavy birds. You cannot just launch yourself vertically like an eagle. You require a runway. You need a long, clear stretch of ground, or preferably water, to build enough momentum for takeoff.”

Orion mentally sighed. A runway. How inconvenient.

”Good thing Hogwarts is located next to a massive, mostly empty lake, then,” Sparkle pointed out brightly. ”You have the perfect aquatic airport right outside your dormitory window.”

That was a compelling thought. The ability to traverse the grounds quickly, quietly, and completely unnoticed by the Aurors or the faculty was a monumental tactical advantage.

I need to practice, Orion decided.

He closed his eyes, focusing his Mind Arts. He reversed the flow of the magic, picturing his human form, grasping the concept of his own humanity.

The shift was much faster this time. The feathers melted back into skin, the wings shrank into arms, and the long neck compressed.

Orion stumbled slightly as his human center of gravity returned, catching himself on the edge of the desk. He took a deep, shuddering breath, running a hand through his dark hair.

”Master Orion is back!” Dobby cheered quietly.

”I am,” Orion smiled, looking down at his hands.

The Animagus transformation was unlocked. The sheer potential of it was intoxicating. He had a form that allowed for stealth, flight (with preparation), and aquatic traversal.

”I will need to practice the transition,” Orion murmured to himself, picking up his wand. ”I need to be able to shift seamlessly, without the momentary disorientation. And I need to test the flight mechanics before I attempt it in the open.”