"Sparkle," Orion demanded into the dim green light of his four-poster bed. "Show me the loot. I defeated my greatest fear. I expect compensation."
The blue interface materialized with a cheerful, entirely un-serious poof of digital confetti.
"Ask and you shall receive, fearless leader," Sparkle hummed, her waveform dancing.
[ ACHIEVEMENT UNLOCKED! ]
Tier: 1 (Basic)
Name: Christmas in our Fears
Description: You faced down a homicidal, timeline-enforcing projection of Albus Dumbledore and won. You managed to force your deepest existential dread to wear a fur-trimmed hat and explode with candy. It's a start! Now you just have to train hard, eat your vegetables, and maybe someday you can try to defeat the real one too.
Reward: 1x Miniature Animated Dumbledore Figurine.
Orion stared at the screen. He read the text. He read the reward. He blinked slowly.
"Inventory," he whispered.
A small object materialized in his palm. It was about six inches tall, carved with exquisite detail. It was a perfect, tiny replica of Albus Dumbledore, complete with half-moon spectacles and starry purple robes.
Orion placed it on the mattress. The figurine immediately stood up, stroked its tiny silver beard, and let out a squeaky, high-pitched voice.
"Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak!" the tiny Dumbledore declared, before waving its minuscule wand. A microscopic burst of colorful, harmless fireworks erupted from the tip, fizzling out against the duvet.
"Please note," Sparkle read from the item description, "the figurine can walk around, speak a few pre-programmed spells, and create small fireworks. It cannot, however, engage in deep philosophical conversations or offer life-altering advice."
Orion gaped at the toy. Then, his head snapped up to glare fiercely at the blue interface.
"What?!" Orion hissed, his voice trembling with genuine outrage. "I fought a bloody Boggart! I faced the manifestation of my deepest, most paralyzing fear, and you give me a toy?! I've received better rewards for throwing a book at my own head!"
"Hey, hey, watch the tone," Sparkle muttered defensively, her interface flashing yellow. "Your fight may have been 'fancy' from a narrative perspective, but from a combat analysis standpoint? It was hardly difficult. You used exactly two spells: Ventus to block some fire, and Riddikulus repeatedly until it stuck. That's not a duel, Orion. That's pest control."
"It was an existential crisis!" Orion argued.
"It was a wardrobe monster," Sparkle countered flatly. "Talk to me when you duel the real Albus Dumbledore in a battle that outclasses his legendary fight with Grindelwald. Then we'll talk Tier 3 loot. Until then, enjoy your action figure."
The tiny Dumbledore wandered over to Orion's knee, looked up at him, and squeaked, "Sherbet Lemon?"
Orion flopped back onto his bed with a heavy, dramatic groan. "Me and my stupid luck for getting saddled with a loot-stingy, sarcastic useless System."
He vanished the toy into his inventory, deciding it would make an excellent desk ornament when he finally took over the world, or at least a good paperweight.
The following weeks were a strange, surreal exercise in waiting for a shoe to drop that seemingly didn't exist.
The Boggart lessons had left a distinct, noticeable mark on the school's social dynamics. Overall, Orion was not the only student to have a professor manifest as their greatest fear, but the reactions were wildly different.
Neville Longbottom's fear of Snape was entirely logical, given the Potions Master's relentless bullying. The ramifications, however, were brutal. Word of Snape in a vulture hat had reached him within an hour. As a result, Snape was now extra hostile toward Neville and the Gryffindors in general, turning Double Potions into a hostile environment.
Hermione Granger, on the other hand, had not feared a specific teacher, but rather the concept of failure, personified by Professor McGonagall delivering a failing grade.
The result of that revelation was bizarre. McGonagall, apparently horrified that one of her prized students viewed her as an avatar of academic doom, was suddenly walking on eggshells around the Gryffindor girl. The notoriously strict Deputy Headmistress was going out of her way to compliment Hermione's work and offer her extra attention, trying to soften her image.
And then there was Orion.
Orion had faced a lethal, executing version of the Headmaster. It was a vision that implied a terrifying level of distrust and paranoia.
And yet... nothing happened.
No professor reacted to Orion differently. Albus Dumbledore was his usual, serene self during meal times—smiling, eating sweets, and being completely absent otherwise.
Even Remus Lupin, the only faculty member who had actually witnessed the Boggart-Dumbledore, acted as though the incident had never occurred. During Defense Against the Dark Arts lectures, Lupin was casually busy, engaging the class with Dark Detectors and Grindylows. He even smiled at Orion when the Slytherin correctly identified a key characteristic of a Hinkypuff, never once bringing up the topic of the Boggart or offering concerned, post-class chats.
It confused the absolute heck out of Orion.
It's a psychological tactic, Orion reasoned one afternoon in the library. They are giving me rope. Hoping I hang myself with it.
"You are overthinking it," Sparkle replied, her interface hovering around. "Frankly, you are the only one even thinking about it. The others seem to have forgotten it all."
By the time September ended and the chill of October set in, Orion forced himself to put the paranoia out of his mind.
"Forget it," Orion muttered, slamming a Runes book shut. "I have work to do. I cannot waste any more time waiting for an interrogation that might never happen."
He had a few short months and a list of almost impossible tasks that he needed to plan for. The Horcruxes were out there. He needed to be proactive.
However, before he chose to handle any piece of Voldemort's soul, he had a logistical hurdle to clear.
"The Vanishing Cabinet," Orion whispered, returning to the Slytherin common room. "I need to test it."
If he was going to go after any Horcrux located outside of Hogwarts—like the Gaunt ring or Slytherin's locket—he needed a way to leave the school undetected and return instantly. The Cabinet in his trunk, linked to the one in his bedroom at Malfoy Manor, was his ticket to freedom.
But he couldn't just step into it blindly. The apple test had proven organic matter could survive, but a human body was far more complex. He needed a live test subject. Someone robust, and preferably annoying enough that he wouldn't feel guilty if they accidentally materialized inside out.
He didn't need to look far. He already had the perfect candidate right here in this school.