Harry Potter: Most Annoying System Ever

The walk from Snape’s office to the Slytherin common room was an exercise in ignoring the spotlight.

The students from other Houses practically strained their necks to look at him as he passed. The whispers were deafeningly loud. Even without the Daily Prophet dedicating its entire front page to him, the news had saturated the castle. Orion Malfoy, thirteen years old, was the youngest Order of Merlin recipient in history.

He was, essentially, a magical celebrity. He had successfully rivaled, if not eclipsed, Harry Potter’s fame in the eyes of the British wizarding public.

Orion reached the blank stone wall, murmured the password, and stepped into the damp, green-tinted warmth of his house’s sanctuary.

The reaction here was infinitely more pronounced. The older Slytherins, usually too proud to show awe, stared openly. The younger students looked at him as if he were a mythical creature suddenly deposited in their midst.

And, of course, Draco was currently standing near the fireplace, regaling Crabbe, Goyle, and Pansy with highly exaggerated tales of his impromptu holiday and the ’chaos’ of the Ministry atrium.

Daphne Greengrass detached herself from a nearby sofa and approached him, her icy demeanor softened by a genuine smile.

”Welcome back, Orion,” Daphne greeted him. ”It was a terrible pity what happened at your ceremony. To have such an important moment overshadowed by a prison break...”

”It does not matter, Daphne,” Orion replied smoothly, adjusting his bag. ”The press coverage was sufficient before the interruption. The medal is safely secured in my room at the Manor, and the historical record is permanently altered. The theatrics of the day change nothing.”

He glanced past Daphne. Hiding half-behind her sister, peering out with wide, nervous eyes, was Astoria Greengrass.

”Huh?” Orion tilted his head slightly.

Daphne sighed, looking affectionately at her younger sister. ”She wanted to ask if she could see the medal, but she was too shy to approach you. You are quite intimidating now, you know.”

Orion let out a soft, amused huff. He looked directly at the first-year girl, softening his usually cold, analytical expression into something much warmer.

”Just because I have a heavy piece of gold on a ribbon does not make me a different person, Astoria,” Orion said gently. ”I am still just Draco’s far-too-patient brother. If you want to see the medal, I will definitely show it to you at one of the summer galas, okay? Assuming my father eventually decides to host one.”

Astoria flushed a brilliant, embarrassed pink, but a bright smile broke across her face. She nodded quickly before darting away to join a group of eager first-year girls who immediately began interrogating her.

”Anyways,” Orion said, turning back to Daphne. ”I have work to catch up on, and a rather disgruntled Niffler to deposit in his enclosure before he decides to steal the silver buttons off the armchairs. I shall see you later, Daphne.”

He walked past the fireplace, clapping a firm hand on Draco’s back mid-sentence. ”Keep up the good work, PR manager,” Orion murmured, not stopping as Draco puffed up proudly.

He entered the quiet, empty space of the third-year boys’ dormitory, closing the door behind him.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out Robin. The Niffler was grumbling softly, clutching a Sickle he had found on somewhere. Orion deposited him gently into the elaborate rock-burrow on the bedside table.

”Stay,” Orion commanded.

He knelt, pulling his trunk from beneath the bed. He popped the latches, climbed down the wooden ladder, and stepped into the cool, focused silence of his study.

He cracked his knuckles.

”Alright,” Orion said aloud. ”Let’s get to work.”

He focused his magical core, triggering the Reflection Clone skill. The strange, pulling sensation seized his chest, and his exact duplicate materialized in the center of the room.

The clone looked around, straightened its robes, and turned to Orion.

”Well,” Orion started, ”now that we are here, you can—”

”Go to the Restricted Section and begin reading,” the clone interrupted smoothly, a sharp, identical smirk on its face. ”I know. We barely completed forty-five percent of the useful material back during our second year. Now, though, with the extra time on our hands, we could easily finish it before the exams.”

”Exactly,” Orion smiled. He opened his Inventory grid. Retrieve.

He materialized the shimmering, fluid fabric of the Invisibility Cloak, and the folded, blank parchment of the Marauder’s Map. He handed both artifacts to his duplicate.

”Use these,” Orion instructed. ”Be thorough.”

”I always am,” the clone replied, taking the items and slipping the map into its pocket. It swung the cloak over its shoulders, vanishing instantly from sight.

”See you tonight,” Orion’s disembodied voice said from near the ladder. The sound of climbing echoed softly, followed by the opening and closing of the trunk lid.

Orion was left alone in the study.

”Okay, wait,” Sparkle’s interface flashed into existence, glowing a confused, bright yellow. ”How exactly is your clone going to get into the Restricted Section? You don’t have a signed slip from Lockhart this time around. And Madam Pince has a tight watch over the entrance.”

Orion sat down at his desk, pulling a blank piece of parchment toward him. He looked at the blue screen, raising a single, condescending eyebrow.

”I am obviously going to use Dobby, Sparkle,” Orion scoffed softly, picking up his quill. ”We now know that, House-elves can here at Hogwarts can help us bypass locks by side-along apparition. Dobby will pop the clone directly inside the section, bypassing Pince entirely. Try to keep up.”

”Hey!” Sparkle protested, her waveform turning a defensive, irritated red. ”I know that the two of you share the exact same brain cells and operate on a synchronized telepathic wavelength! But some of us require basic context clues to follow the plot!”

”Context is for those who cannot deduce the obvious,” Orion smirked, dipping his quill in the inkwell. While his clone was busy gathering knowledge, he would spend his time planning how to utilize it.