Harry Potter: Most Annoying System Ever

The first week of October brought a bitter, biting frost to the castle grounds, mirroring the cold, calculated focus that had settled over Orion Malfoy.

The time for theory was over. The operational phase of his four-year plan was commencing, and the first critical objective required a live test.

Late on a Wednesday evening, while the rest of the Slytherin third-years were gathered in the common room complaining about Snape’s latest potion assignment, Orion retreated to the absolute privacy of his expanded trunk.

He sat behind his oak desk, the blue light of his Ring of the Midnight Reader casting sharp shadows. He didn’t have his books open. He was mentally reviewing the exact runic sequence of the Vanishing Cabinet sitting in the corner of the room.

”Dobby,” Orion whispered into the quiet space.

CRACK.

The free elf appeared, wearing a mismatched but clean array of clothing—a brightly colored, knitted tea cozy for a hat and a pair of odd socks he had clearly claimed from the discarded laundry. He looked healthier and happier than he ever had at Malfoy Manor.

”Master Orion calls!” Dobby beamed, saluting sharply. ”Dobby is here to help!”

”Hello, Dobby,” Orion greeted him with a small, genuine smile. ”Are you enjoying your work in the kitchens? The other elves treating you well?”

”It is lovely, Master Orion!” Dobby squeaked, his ears flapping. ”The Hogwarts elves are very busy, but very nice! Dobby gets to make treacle tart!”

”I am glad to hear it,” Orion said, his tone shifting smoothly from friendly to professional. ”But right now, I need your unique skill set. We have an extremely important, highly sensitive job to do.”

Dobby stood at attention, his large eyes wide. ”Dobby is ready for the secret mission!”

”I am sure you are aware of Ronald Weasley’s pet,” Orion began, choosing his words carefully. ”The rat. Scabbers.”

Dobby frowned slightly, confused. ”The fat, ugly mouse? Yes, Dobby has seen it sleeping in the red-haired boy’s bed.”

”I need you to go and get hold of him, Dobby,” Orion instructed. ”Bring him to me.”

Dobby’s eyes widened further. ”Master wants the ugly rat? For a potion?”

”No,” Orion shook his head. ”I want him because that rat is an imposter. It is not a real animal. It is a dangerous individual, a dark wizard, pretending to be a rat to hide in the castle.”

Dobby gasped, his hands flying to his mouth. ”A dark wizard in the school?!”

”Yes,” Orion nodded gravely. ”I am helping Weasley by removing this imposter. We are not actually hurting his pet; we are neutralizing a threat. However, there are a few very specific parameters you must follow when you acquire him.”

Orion held up a finger, emphasizing each point.

”One: Do not be seen by anyone. You must employ absolute stealth. If Potter or Weasley catch you taking the rat, the situation will become incredibly complicated. Be a shadow.”

”Dobby will be invisible!”

”Two,” Orion continued, his voice hardening. ”This is crucial. You must knock the rat unconscious the moment you grab it. Use whatever elven magic is necessary to stun it safely, but do not kill it. And under absolutely no circumstances is the rat allowed to see my face when you bring it here. It must remain unconscious until I deal with it.”

”Dobby understands!” the elf promised fiercely. ”Sneak, stun, deliver! Dobby will not let the bad wizard-rat see Master Orion!”

”Execute,” Orion commanded softly.

CRACK. Dobby vanished.

Orion leaned back in his chair, staring at the dark wood of the Vanishing Cabinet.

”So,” Sparkle’s interface materialized, glowing a cautious yellow. ”You’re going to use Peter Pettigrew as the crash-test dummy for the portal.”

”He is the perfect candidate,” Orion reasoned, steepling his fingers. ”He is technically a legally dead person. No one will come looking for him. The Ministry isn’t searching for him. And I have absolutely no love or sympathy for the man who betrayed his friends and framed another. I will not lose a single second of sleep if he ends up mathematically disassembled in the void.”

”It’s a brutal way to go,” Sparkle noted.

”It’s efficient,” Orion corrected. ”Besides, removing him from the board now yields massive strategic benefits. Without Pettigrew to seek him out, Voldemort remains a bodiless spirit for the next few years. It stalls the resurrection plot indefinitely, giving me the time I need to hunt the Horcruxes.”

”Yeah, but what about Sirius Black?” Sparkle pointed out, the waveform spiking with a logical concern. ”Black is currently braving Dementors and eating rats to get to Pettigrew. If Peter vanishes or dies... Black has no proof. He won’t be able to clear his name. He’ll be a fugitive forever.”

Orion sighed, waving a dismissive hand. ”I wouldn’t worry about that, Sparkle. I’ll think of another way to handle Black’s exoneration. Perhaps an anonymous tip to Amelia Bones, or planting Pettigrew’s segments in a prominent location if he splinches. Right now, Peter is the only living, breathing, disposable test subject available for this task.”

He offered a dark, humorless smirk.

”Besides, if I don’t use Peter... I might have to sneak into the Ministry to find my next viable candidate. Because the next name on my list of people I wouldn’t mind pushing into a magical meat-grinder is the pink toad, Dolores Under-the-bridge.”

”Fair point,” Sparkle chuckled digitally. ”Pettigrew is definitely the easier target to kidnap.”

They fell into silence, waiting.

The minutes ticked by. Orion checked his Astrum Navigator. The tension in his chest was a tight, coiled spring. Capturing Pettigrew was the key to unlocking the entire year’s narrative.

CRACK.

Orion stood up instantly.

Dobby stood near the desk. In his small, spindly hand, he held a remarkably fat, incredibly ugly grey rat by the scruff of its neck. The rat was completely limp, its eyes closed, its breathing shallow but steady.

”Dobby has the imposter!” the elf squeaked proudly, holding the unconscious rodent up like a trophy. ”He was sleeping in the red-haired boy’s bag! Dobby was very quiet, and hit him with a sleeping zap!”

”Excellent work, Dobby,” Orion said, his eyes fixed on the rat. ”Place him in the cabinet.”

He gestured to the dark wooden structure in the corner.

Dobby scurried over, pulled the heavy door open, and unceremoniously dumped the unconscious Peter Pettigrew onto the wooden floor of the cabinet.

Orion walked over to the cabinet. He placed his hand on the wood, feeling the faint, dormant thrum of the runic magic he had carved.

He had the subject. He had the portal.

”Let’s see if you can survive this, Peter,” Orion whispered, looking at the knocked out rat. This was a major leap in his plans.