Harry Potter: Most Annoying System Ever

The first week of the new term settled over Hogwarts with a comforting, predictable monotony, slightly dampened by the looming, icy presence of the Dementors at the gates.

For Orion, slipping back into the academic rhythm was effortless. He organized his schedule, resumed his early morning Mind Arts meditations, and continued his studies and private spell practise. The difference this year was intent. He wasn’t just practicing to survive the curriculum; he was training for a war he had decided to start preparing for.

Draco, predictably, had also fallen back into his usual routine of complaining about Gryffindors and obsessing over Quidditch.

”I still can’t believe it,” Draco grumbled as they walked across the damp, sloping lawns toward the edge of the Forbidden Forest on a crisp Thursday afternoon. ”Care of Magical Creatures taught by that oaf. Father would have a fit if he knew the staffing announcement.”

”Mr. Hagrid is a fully qualified wizard now, Draco,” Orion corrected smoothly, adjusting the strap of his bookbag. ”He sat for his O.W.L.s over the summer. Barely scraped by with ’Acceptables’, from what I hear, but it was enough to satisfy the Ministry. He has his wand rights reinstated.”

”A wand doesn’t make him a teacher,” Draco scoffed, kicking a pebble.

They approached Hagrid’s hut. The half-giant was standing outside, looking massive, nervous, and incredibly proud. He was wearing a horrendous, hairy brown suit that smelled strongly of wet dog, and in his massive hand, he clutched a familiar, bright pink umbrella.

Orion hid a smile. Hagrid had legally purchased a new, enormous oak wand over the summer, yet he continued to house the broken pieces of his old wand inside the pink umbrella. Habit, it seemed, was harder to break than Ministry law.

”C’mon, now, get a move on!” Hagrid called out, waving the pink umbrella as the Slytherins and Gryffindors gathered. ”Got a real treat for yeh today! Great lesson! Follow me!”

He led the class away from the hut and toward a small paddock enclosed by a low stone wall near the tree line.

”Everyone gather ’round the fence!” Hagrid instructed, beaming. ”Now, first thing yeh’ll want to do is open yer books—”

”How exactly do we do that?” a cold, drawling voice interrupted.

Draco was holding his copy of The Monster Book of Monsters shut with a tight belt, looking at Hagrid with supreme disdain. Several other students were clutching their books tightly, some having resorted to wrapping them in spellotape.

”Oh, right,” Hagrid looked slightly disappointed that they hadn’t figured it out. ”Yeh’ve got to stroke ’em. Look here...”

He took a struggling book from Finnigan’s hand, ran his massive, calloused finger down the spine, and the book instantly shuddered, relaxed, and fell open, purring softly.

”Stroke them,” Draco muttered, looking revolted. ”Of course. How silly of us not to guess we had to pet our school supplies.”

Neville Longbottom, attempting the maneuver, fumbled. The book snapped its jaws, lunging upward and catching the edge of his sleeve, dragging the boy to the ground in a flurry of screaming pages.

”Merlin’s beard,” Orion sighed, drawing his Hawthorn wand and firing a quick, silent Stunning Spell that knocked the book unconscious before it could chew Neville’s ear off. ”Just stroke the spine, Longbottom. It isn’t a complex equation.”

”Right then,” Hagrid cleared his throat, moving past the minor casualty. ”If yeh look over there...”

He pointed toward the trees.

A collective gasp went up from the class. Trotting out of the shadows of the forest were a dozen of the most bizarre creatures Orion had ever seen. They had the bodies, hind legs, and tails of horses, but the front legs, wings, and heads of giant eagles. Their cruel, steel-colored beaks gleamed, and their large, orange eyes looked fiercely intelligent and dangerous.

”Hippogriffs!” Hagrid announced proudly, wading into the paddock and tethering one of the beasts to a post. ”Beautiful, ain’t they?”

They were undeniably magnificent, but they also looked incredibly volatile.

Thanks to his All-Speak, Orion didn’t just hear their screeches and clicks. He heard their conversation.

And it was surprisingly... posh.

”I say, Peter, the sheer volume of unwashed adolescents is appalling today,” the nearest Hippogriff clicked, shifting its massive wings.

”Quite right, Reginald,” another replied, snapping its beak at a passing fly. ”I feel absolutely scrutinized. If one of these little hairless apes tries to touch my primary flight feathers without proper introduction, I shall have to eviscerate them. It’s simply a matter of protocol.”

”Oh, indubitably. One must maintain standards,” Reginald agreed.

Orion bit the inside of his cheek to stop from laughing. They sounded like elderly lords at an exclusive gentlemen’s club complaining about the service.

”Now, first thing yeh gotta know about Hippogriffs,” Hagrid lectured, rubbing his hands together, ”is they’re proud. Easily offended, Hippogriffs are. Don’t ever insult one, ’cause it might be the last thing yeh do.”

He explained the protocol: maintain eye contact, bow, and wait for the creature to bow back.

”Right,” Hagrid clapped his hands. ”Who wants to go first?”

The entire class took a synchronized step backward. Except for Harry Potter, who had been pushed from behind by an eager Hermione and stumbled forward.

”Good man, Harry!” Hagrid beamed.

Orion watched with clinical interest as Harry nervously approached the largest Hippogriff, Buckbeak. Harry followed the instructions, bowed, and waited. Buckbeak, after a tense moment of aristocratic consideration (”He seems suitably terrified, I suppose I shall permit it,” the beast muttered), bowed back.

Within minutes, Hagrid had hoisted a terrified Harry onto Buckbeak’s back and slapped the creature’s flank.

Buckbeak launched into the sky. It was a spectacular display of raw, untamed flight. The massive beast soared over the treetops, banking sharply against the grey sky, before circling back and landing with a heavy, graceful thud in the paddock.

The Gryffindors erupted into cheers. Even some Slytherins looked impressed.

Draco, however, looked furious. His face was flushed with jealousy. Harry Potter was getting the spotlight again, flying a dangerous beast while Draco stood on the muddy ground.

”Oh, please,” Draco sneered loudly, pushing his way to the front of the crowd as Harry slid off Buckbeak’s back. ”If Potter can do it, it must be dead easy.”

Draco strode purposefully toward Buckbeak.

”I bet you’re not dangerous at all, are you?” Draco mocked, walking straight toward the creature, completely ignoring the mandatory bow. ”Are you, you great ugly brute—”

Orion’s eyes widened. He heard the sharp, offended click of Buckbeak’s beak.

”Well, I never!” Buckbeak shrieked indignantly, rearing up on his hind legs, his massive, lethal front talons flashing in the air. ”The sheer, unmitigated gall of this diminutive peasant! I shall render him into ribbons!”

”Draco!” Orion shouted.

He didn’t draw his wand. He moved with the physical enhancements of the Brawler’s Bracelet humming on his wrist.

Orion lunged forward, grabbing the back of Draco’s collar. He didn’t just pull; he yanked with brutal, explosive force.

Draco was hauled backward off his feet, flying backward through the air and landing hard on the muddy grass just as Buckbeak’s razor-sharp talons slashed down, slicing through the empty air where Draco’s face had been a fraction of a second before.

”Whoa, there! Buckbeak! Down!” Hagrid roared, throwing his massive bulk between the furious Hippogriff and the fallen Slytherin. Hagrid wrestled the creature back, forcing it to lower its wings, whispering soothing nonsense until the beast calmed.

The class was dead silent, staring at the near-decapitation in horror.

Hagrid turned, his face pale beneath his beard. He looked at Draco, lying in the mud, then at Orion, who was standing over his brother, breathing heavily.

”Yeh... yeh shouldn’t have insulted him, Malfoy,” Hagrid said, his voice trembling slightly with the adrenaline crash. He looked at Orion, profound relief in his eyes. ”Thank yeh, Orion. That was... that was close.”

Draco scrambled to his feet, his robes covered in mud, his face burning a brilliant, furious scarlet. He was shaking, though whether from terror or humiliation was unclear.

”I’m going to the Hospital Wing!” Draco shouted, trying to salvage some dignity despite having no injuries. ”I think... I think I wrenched my shoulder when Orion pulled me!”

He glared venomously at Hagrid, then at the Hippogriff, before turning and storming off toward the castle, Crabbe and Goyle hurrying after him.

Orion watched his brother retreat, letting out a long, slow sigh. He adjusted his cuffs, his expression returning to its usual, cool mask.

”Another day, another near-death experience caused by pureblood arrogance,” Sparkle noted dryly.

”He never learns,” Orion murmured softly, shaking his head. ”He simply lacks the brain to understand consequence.”

He turned back to Hagrid, who was still trying to calm the ruffled feathers of the class.