Harry Potter: Most Annoying System Ever

The silence of the Chamber of Secrets was shattered by the shrill, grating screech of a woman who had never once faced the consequences of her own arrogance.

Dolores Umbridge strained against the thick hemp ropes, her chubby wrists turning red as she violently thrashed in the heavy wooden chair. Her pouchy, toad-like eyes darted frantically from the towering carved serpents to the vast, flooded darkness, before locking squarely onto the boy sitting comfortably across from her.

”Malfoy?!” she shrieked, her voice echoing in a high-pitched, hysterical frequency off the damp stone walls. ”Lucius’s brat! What are you doing here?! Where have you brought me?!”

Orion didn’t answer. He simply leaned back, lacing his fingers together over his charcoal waistcoat, his face a mask of mild, polite interest.

Umbridge took his silence as weakness, her bureaucratic entitlement surging forward to mask her rising panic.

”How dare you!” she barked, her chest heaving beneath the tattered, filthy pink cardigan. ”Do you have the slightest comprehension of what you have done, boy?! I am the Senior Undersecretary to the Minister of Magic! I am Cornelius Fudge’s most trusted advisor! Kidnapping a high-ranking Ministry official is a one-way ticket to Azkaban! I will have you expelled! I will have your wand snapped by sundown!”

Orion tilted his head slightly. ”Is that so?”

”Yes, that is so!” Umbridge shrieked, spitting slightly as her fury boiled over. ”You think your father’s gold makes you untouchable?! Lucius is nothing! Cornelius trusts me far more than he trusts that spineless, slippery father of yours! I know where the bodies are buried in that Ministry! I will unleash every Auror, every Hit Wizard, and every legislative statute upon your family! I will drag your mother through the mud, strip your vaults to absolute ruin, and personally watch you rot in the deepest cell on that island! I will destroy you, Malfoy!”

She stopped, panting heavily, her flabby face flushed a violent, mottled magenta.

Orion waited. He let the echoes of her hysterical promises die away into the dripping silence of the cavern.

Then, he nodded slowly.

”Good,” Orion said, his voice terrifyingly calm, smooth as silk. ”A very spirited monologue. Now... to the main question.”

He leaned forward, placing his forearms flat on the rough wood of the table.

”How, exactly, do you plan on doing any of that?”

Umbridge blinked, her jaw going slack. ”What?”

”Let us analyze your current tactical reality, Madam Umbridge,” Orion instructed, his tone dropping into a cool, conversational cadence. ”You are currently bound to a chair, wandless, entirely helpless, sitting directly across from your captor. And you are located deep within the legendary Chamber of Secrets.”

He gestured gracefully toward the yawning stone maw of Salazar Slytherin’s statue looming in the shadows behind him.

”A location you unfortunately missed out on exploring when the Ministry visited Hogwarts last year,” Orion smirked. ”A subterranean lair buried miles beneath the Scottish earth. There are precisely two other living people in this entire castle who can access this chamber. Harry Potter has absolutely no idea you are down here... and the Dark Lord currently does not care enough about your existence to come looking.”

Umbridge’s breath hitched in her throat. Her eyes darted toward the towering stone snakes, the sheer, ancient weight of the room finally crushing her bravado.

”Furthermore,” Orion continued ruthlessly, ”your sudden absence has caused precisely zero alarms. The Ministry is operating under the absolute, confirmed assumption that you took an emergency personal leave of absence for several weeks due to severe stress. No one is searching for you, Dolores. Especially not with the Aurors turning the country upside down hunting escaped Death Eaters.”

He held her terrified gaze, his indigo eyes burning with cold, absolute intellect.

”And I certainly did not go through the immense, delicate logistical trouble of having you abducted from your home... simply to let you walk out that door and execute all those threats you just made. I am an Order of Merlin holder, Dolores. I am not an idiot.”

The reality of her situation hit Umbridge like a physical blow. The color drained rapidly from her face, leaving her a sickly, ash-grey. She stopped pulling against the ropes.

Realizing that authority and threats were utterly useless against a boy who held all the cards, the politician in her immediately pivoted to survival.

”Wait,” Umbridge whimpered, her breathy, girlish voice returning in a desperate, trembling rush. ”Wait, Orion... please. We can... we can come to an arrangement. A private understanding.”

She leaned forward as far as the ropes permitted, her eyes wide, begging.

”Gold! You want gold, yes? I have private accounts! Vaults the Ministry knows nothing of! And power... think of your future, boy! I can ensure you have a senior post in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement the moment you graduate! I can grant you licenses, contracts, total immunity from regulatory audits!”

She was babbling now, grasping at anything to save her skin.

”I have connections, Orion! Real connections! I have a group of very powerful, very dangerous high-end criminals who are deeply indebted to me! I can introduce you to them! I can give you control over them if you just let me go!”

High-end criminals indebted to her, Orion thought, fighting a sudden urge to laugh.

Good thing Aunt Bella isn’t standing behind me right now, Orion mused internally, thoroughly amused by the dramatic irony. If she heard this pink toad claim that the Lestranges and Dolohov were ’indebted’ to her, she would have severed her head while screaming ’Off with her head!’

Hmm... I should definitely tell Bella to start using that line. It fits her aesthetic wonderfully.

Orion looked across the table at the trembling, sweating bureaucrat. The disgust he felt was profound, but his expression remained entirely composed.

”You are hideous,” Orion stated simply, his voice flat.

Umbridge flinched. ”What?”

”You are terrible,” Orion continued, his tone devoid of anger, merely delivering an objective, scientific observation. ”Your face looks like a squashed toad that was stepped on by a troll, your cardigan is a personal assault on the very concept of fashion, and you stink of cheap lavender perfume masking pure, unadulterated cowardice.”

He shook his head in disdain.

”Good. Now that I have taken my personal, petty revenge for you daring to ruin my Order of Merlin ceremony by facilitating that cowardly rat’s escape on Halloween...”

Orion leaned in, the shadows of the Chamber falling across his sharp cheekbones.

”...it is time for the official interrogation.”

Umbridge began to tremble violently. ”What... what do you want?”

”I am going to ask you a few very specific, highly classified questions,” Orion outlined calmly. ”And you are going to answer them with absolute, unvarnished honesty. But... considering how thoroughly boring standard interrogations can be, I feel we should make the process a little more exciting for me.”

”Inventory,” Orion commanded mentally.

In a flash of digital blue light that vanished before Umbridge’s tear-filled eyes could register it, an object materialized in Orion’s right hand.

It was the sleek, matte-black Hydro-Kinetic Pistol.

To a simple Muggle, it would have looked like a realistic toy. To a pureblood supremacist bureaucrat who had never seen modern non-magical manufacturing, it looked like a lethal, terrifying, foreign instrument of cold, mechanical death.

Orion rested the heavy black barrel casually against the edge of the wooden table, twirling the weapon around his finger by the trigger guard with practiced, effortless familiarity.

He aimed the black muzzle directly between Umbridge’s wide, bulging eyes.

”Tell me, Madam Underwear,” Orion whispered, a slow, wickedly cheerful smile curling his lips.

”Have you ever heard of Russian Roulette?”