Harry Potter: Most Annoying System Ever

The hissing steam of the Hogwarts Express mingled with the frantic, terrified energy on Platform 9 ¾.

Normally, the start of the Christmas holidays was marked by cheerful shouts, the clatter of heavy trunks, and joyful reunions. Today, however, the atmosphere was distinctly panicked. Parents clutched their children tightly the moment they stepped off the train, their eyes darting nervously toward the Aurors patrolling the platform.

Orion and Draco stepped off the scarlet engine, their breath pluming in the freezing London air.

”Stay close,” Orion instructed mildly, as they waded through the crowd.

He offered polite nods to his classmates as they dispersed. He saw Daphne and Astoria Greengrass practically tackled into a fierce, protective embrace by their usually stoic parents. The fear was a tangible, heavy thing pressing down on the wizarding world.

Through the throng, Orion spotted Luna Lovegood. She was skipping toward a tall, eccentric-looking man with wispy, white-blonde hair that mirrored her own. Xenophilius Lovegood seemed entirely lost in his own thoughts, staring vaguely at a brick pillar, until Luna tugged his sleeve. She turned and offered Orion a bright, cheerful wave before following her father toward the exit.

Orion returned the wave with a slight inclination of his head.

He and Draco navigated the crush of bodies until they reached the designated VIP Floo grates reserved for Ministry officials and prominent families.

Narcissa Malfoy was waiting for them alone.

She stood impeccably straight, wrapped in a heavy, dark fur-lined cloak, but the stiffness in her posture was undeniable. She didn’t offer her usual, elegant smile. The moment the boys were within reach, she pulled them both into a tight, desperate hug, burying her face in their shoulders for a fraction of a second longer than was socially acceptable.

”Mother,” Draco mumbled, slightly embarrassed but returning the hug fiercely.

Narcissa pulled back, her blue eyes scanning their faces rapidly. ”You are safe. Thank Merlin.”

”Where is Father?” Draco asked, looking around the empty grates.

”Your father is waiting back at the Manor,” Narcissa explained, her voice tight and clipped. ”He could not come to greet you personally due to... unforeseen circumstances. He is very worried about the current situation.”

Of course he is, Orion stated mentally, his expression remaining perfectly blank. One of the ’unforeseen circumstances’ is currently making herself comfortable in his drawing room.

Narcissa looked directly at Orion, the maternal terror in her eyes stark and unmistakable.

”Come to me if you ever need anything,” Narcissa whispered, her voice meant only for him. ”Both of you. Promise me.”

”I promise, Mother,” Orion replied softly.

They stepped into the large grate, throwing the powder and calling for Malfoy Manor.

The spinning, green vortex deposited them into the grand receiving room.

Lucius Malfoy was standing rigid near the fireplace. He looked as though he hadn’t slept in a week. The usual, arrogant sneer was entirely absent, replaced by a mask of pale, strained exhaustion.

”Draco. Orion,” Lucius greeted them quickly, his voice lacking its customary drawl. ”I am profoundly glad you are unharmed.”

Before Draco could launch into his tales of the train ride, Lucius held up a hand.

”Draco,” Lucius instructed, his tone brokering no argument. ”Return to your room immediately. Stay there. Your mother will speak with you later this evening regarding the new security protocols for the estate.”

Draco blinked, thrown by the abrupt dismissal, but the sheer tension radiating from his father ensured his immediate compliance. ”Yes, Father.” He grabbed his trunk and hurried up the grand staircase.

Once Draco was out of earshot, Lucius turned his gaze entirely to Orion.

Lucius looked at his second son, his grey eyes flashing with a complicated mix of intense pride and sheer, unadulterated terror. He swallowed hard.

”As for you, Orion,” Lucius said, his voice dropping to a harsh whisper. ”She is waiting for you in the South Gardens. She wants to speak with you. Alone.”

Orion didn’t flinch. He didn’t ask who ’she’ was.

”A reunion after a long time, huh?” Orion sighed softly, adjusting his cuffs with an air of profound, aristocratic boredom. ”Jolly.”

He turned and walked toward the heavy glass doors leading out to the manicured grounds, leaving his terrified parents behind in the receiving room.

He pushed the doors open and stepped out into the biting winter wind.

The South Gardens were desolate, the geometric hedges dusted with frost, the fountains frozen solid. The sky overhead was a heavy, bruised grey, threatening more snow.

Orion walked slowly down the gravel path, his eyes scanning the statues and the barren rosebushes. He didn’t see anyone. The gardens appeared entirely empty.

Suddenly, the Universal Sense hummed at the base of his skull.

It wasn’t a blaring, frantic alarm like the Dementor attack. It was a sharp, distinct ’ping’, registering a powerful, predatory presence rapidly closing the distance from his blind spot, moving with total silence.

Orion didn’t react. He didn’t reach for his wand. He didn’t turn his head. He allowed the presence to get closer, utilizing his Level 2 Mind Arts to lock his heart rate into a steady, unbothered rhythm.

A shadow fell over his shoulder.

A pale, slender arm slid around him from behind, not grabbing him, but hovering with lethal, coiled intent. A long, sharp fingernail traced a slow, chilling line down his jaw and rested gently beneath his chin.

A voice, raspy, melodious, and dripping with dark, manic amusement, whispered directly into his ear.

”Look at you... my dear godson.”

Orion stood perfectly still, letting the fanatic energy of the woman wash over him.

”A wee little thing like you has gotten so incredibly tall... and so handsome,” Bellatrix Lestrange cooed, her breath warm against the freezing wind.

She leaned closer, the scent of expensive perfume failing to entirely mask the lingering smell of dark magic and the faint, bitter memory of Azkaban dampness.

”And what is this I have been hearing about you in those dreadful little newspapers?” Bellatrix murmured, her voice rising in a delighted, theatrical swoop. ”Slaying basilisks? Uncovering Ministry blunders? And becoming the youngest Order of Merlin holder in history?”

She let out a soft, breathy giggle that sent a shiver down Orion’s spine.

”I have to say, my little black star,” Bellatrix purred, her finger tracing the line of his jaw again. ”Your godmother is incredibly impressed.”

She trailed off, her voice dropping an octave into something darker and far more intense. ”It’s quite... hot.”

Orion let the silence hang for exactly two seconds.

Then, a slow, razor-sharp smirk spread across his face. He didn’t pull away from her touch.

”Well,” Orion drawled smoothly, his voice laced with the exact same dark, aristocratic arrogance that defined his family. ”If my godmother is impressed... then I suppose that’s a win in my book.”

He turned his head slowly, looking over his shoulder to meet her gaze.

Bellatrix Lestrange stepped back, allowing him to turn fully.

She was a vision of chaotic, terrifying beauty. She was wearing a stylish, heavily tailored black colored witch’s outfit that clung to her lithe frame. The manic, hollowed-out Azkaban escapee vibes from the newspaper photos were still present in the wild, tangled mass of her dark hair and the fierce, burning intensity of her eyes.

But since she had been living secretly in the opulence of Malfoy Manor for the past few weeks, she had cleaned up remarkably well. The grime of the prison was nowhere, replaced by the lethal, polished elegance of a pureblood fanatic. She looked every inch the part of the deranged, devoted right hand of a Dark Lord.

Orion looked her up and down, matching her intense, psychotic energy with absolute, unyielding calm.

”It’s nice to finally meet you, Aunt Bella,” Orion smiled.