Harry Potter: Most Annoying System Ever

The final two days of their impromptu visit home were a masterclass in aggressive, synchronized productivity.

Orion remained secured in his bedroom, diligently completing the heavy load of homework assigned to them. He wrote essays on cheering charms, drafted complex Runes charts, and reviewed his notes on magical creature habitats.

Meanwhile, deep within the extensive, shadowy aisles of the Malfoy Family Library, his exact duplicate was systematically devouring texts on advanced warding, obscure curses, and the theoretical limits of Transfiguration.

It was an eerie, profoundly efficient arrangement.

On the first night, shortly after Lucius had finished a tense, silent dinner, Orion returned to his bedroom to find his clone already waiting, sitting casually on the edge of the four-poster bed.

”Finished for the day?” Orion asked, closing and locking the door.

”For now,” the clone nodded, standing up. ”I compiled the preliminary research on translocation wards. It is complex, but manageable. However, it is best if we take some time to have the memories transferred every night, rather than waiting for long periods.”

Orion crossed his arms, leaning against his desk. ”To avoid too much strain on the cognitive load?”

”Exactly,” the clone agreed, mirroring his posture. ”Sure, your Level 2 Mind Arts can handle a massive influx of data without causing an aneurysm. But processing even twelve or so hours of dense, complex magical theory and other sensory inputs in a single burst will still be an absolute chore to categorize. It is better if we establish a strict schedule. Syncing at night allows you to organize and file the new thoughts away in your ’Safe Room’ while you sleep.”

”A sound strategy,” Orion murmured. ”So, I simply recall you back into my consciousness, and that initiates the transfer?”

”Yep,” the clone confirmed. ”And when you summon me back out tomorrow morning, I will be generated with your own updated memories. Which means both of us will be perfectly in sync regarding what happened while we were in separate places.”

The clone offered a small, calculating smile. ”That should make it incredibly easy for us to plan ahead without accidentally contradicting each other.”

”I notice you aren’t suggesting working through the night as well,” Orion observed, raising an eyebrow. ”You don’t sleep.”

The clone scoffed softly, shaking its head. ”I knew you would bring that up. I understand the temptation. The thought certainly crossed my mind—you rest the physical body while I continue grinding in the library.”

The clone’s expression turned serious.

”But we must be realistic. That level of relentless academic pursuit is exactly what Granger does with her Time-Turner, and look at the physical and mental toll it takes on her. While I do not feel fatigue, your brain is still the ultimate processor. Even with Mind Arts Level 2, your mind might choose to interpret the continuous, unbroken stream of active learning as constant, waking work. We will already be operating at twice the normal rate every single day. That is a massive advantage.”

”We cannot risk cognitive burnout,” Orion agreed, understanding the logic perfectly.

”Exactly,” the clone nodded. ”So, it is best if we give the night a rest. Give the brain time to defragment.”

”It’s a good thing we are perfectly in sync,” Orion smiled, a genuine expression of relief at having a partner who wasn’t an idiot. ”Good night.”

He focused his intent, reaching out with his magic to sever the active manifestation.

The clone dissolved instantly, not into smoke, but collapsing inward, a rush of glowing, silvery light that shot directly into Orion’s chest.

Orion gasped softly, stumbling back a half-step as the influx hit him. The sensation being a first one for him.

He tilted his head, his eyes widening as the foreign—yet entirely familiar—memories bloomed in his mind. He suddenly possessed a deep, intricate understanding of the theoretical concepts of Transfiguration and Translocation that he had never personally read.

More startlingly, he remembered an interaction he had not had. He remembered sitting in the library, looking up from a book as Narcissa entered. He remembered her asking if he wanted tea, and he remembered Draco popping his head in to complain about there being no cookies to munch on.

He remembered the smell of the old parchment and the exact texture of the leather binding on the book his clone had been holding.

”Fascinating,” Orion whispered into the quiet room, his hands trembling slightly as he quickly categorized the new data, locking it away in his mental vault. ”It truly is flawless.”

The next day followed the same pattern, ending with another successful, slightly less jarring synchronization, as he was getting used to it.

By Sunday morning, Orion was packed and ready. He had effectively accomplished four days of intense study in forty-eight hours, his mind sharp and ready for further planning.

He stood in the grand receiving room of the Manor, his shrunken essentials in his pocket, the heavy, comforting weight of Robin the Niffler resting securely in the other.

Draco stood beside him, looking incredibly tense, his eyes darting nervously toward the large windows. Wonder what he was so agitated about?

The green flames of the massive fireplace roared to life.

Professor Snape stepped out, his black robes immaculate, his face set in its usual, stony sneer. He offered a curt nod to Lucius and Narcissa, who were standing nearby to see them off. ”I hope you have taken everything needed, Draco, Orion.”

Both boys respond with a nod and a ”Yes. We have everything.”

”Ensure they go straight to their dormitories, Severus,” Lucius instructed, his voice tight. ”No detours.”

”Naturally,” Snape replied.

Orion stepped forward, grabbing a handful of Floo powder. He met Snape’s eye, offering a polite, almost imperceptible nod of readiness.

”Hogwarts, Potions Office,” Orion called out clearly, throwing the powder and stepping into the emerald fire, ready to return to the heart of the castle and the quiet war he was preparing to wage.