The cold, damp air of the second-floor lavatory hung heavy with the weight of Orion's declaration. Professor Minerva McGonagall stared at the twelve-year-old Slytherin, her lips slightly parted in profound shock. The sheer audacity of his claim—that he, a second-year student, had not only located the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets but had also identified the monster within—was staggering.
Before she could process the information, the heavy wooden door burst open again.
Ron Weasley came charging in, panting heavily as he had tried to keep up with Professor McGonagall, his face flushed and his wand clutched tightly in a sweaty grip. He stumbled to a halt, taking in the scene: Orion standing calmly, and his best friend bound and silenced on the wet floor.
"Professor!" Ron gasped, pointing a trembling finger at Orion. "I told you! He's the Heir! He was trying to open it!"
McGonagall blinked, tearing her gaze away from the copper tap adorned with the tiny snake. The arrival of the frantic Gryffindor seemed to snap her back into her role as Deputy Headmistress. Her spine straightened, and the shock vanished, replaced by an iron-clad, administrative resolve.
"Quiet, Mr. Weasley," McGonagall ordered, her voice crisp and commanding.
She turned her attention back to Orion, her eyes narrowing slightly. "You are making monumental claims, Mr. Malfoy. Claims that require immediate, verifiable proof before the Headmaster."
"I am aware, Professor," Orion nodded politely, his posture relaxed. "I am fully prepared to present my findings. However, I believe this location is... tactically unsound for a lengthy discussion."
He glanced down at the sink, then back to her. "If the creature inside decides to use the plumbing while we are standing here arguing, the conversation will be incredibly short, and somewhat fatal."
McGonagall swallowed hard, the reality of the danger finally overriding her suspicion of the boy. She gave a sharp, decisive nod.
"You are correct," she said briskly. "We are leaving this corridor immediately."
She raised her wand and pointed it at the struggling form of Harry Potter on the floor. "Finite Incantatem."
The thick black ropes vanished into thin air, and the silencing charm lifted. Harry gasped, scrambling to his feet, his green eyes blazing with a mixture of humiliation and fury. He lunged toward Orion, his hands balling into fists.
"You—!" Harry snarled.
"Mr. Potter! Stop!" McGonagall's voice cracked like a whip, freezing Harry in his tracks. "There will be no more brawling in this school. Is that understood?"
Harry breathed heavily, his chest heaving as he glared at Orion. "He's lying, Professor! He attacked me!"
"You fired a Severing Charm at my head, Potter," Orion corrected mildly, not even flinching at the boy's anger. "I simply restrained you before you could inadvertently amputate a limb. I believe that is the definition of self-defense."
He reached into the inner pocket of his dark robes and slowly drew out Harry's holly wand. He held it loosely between his thumb and forefinger, extending it toward the Gryffindor.
"I will return your wand, Potter," Orion offered smoothly, his voice laced with patronizing calm. "Provided you can guarantee you will not attempt to curse me in the back while we walk to the Headmaster's office. I prefer my robes unsinged."
Harry glared at the wand, then at Orion's smug face. His jaw clenched so tight it looked painful.
"Return it, Mr. Malfoy," McGonagall instructed firmly, stepping between the two boys. "He will not dare attack you in my presence. Will you, Mr. Potter?"
Harry snatched his wand from Orion's grip, his eyes burning. "No, Professor."
"Good. Now, follow me. All of you. Quietly."
McGonagall turned on her heel and strode out of the bathroom, her emerald robes billowing. Orion fell into step a respectful distance behind her, his hands clasped loosely behind his back. Harry and Ron trailed nervously behind him, occasionally whispering furiously to each other.
The walk through the deserted, torch-lit corridors was tense.
"Are you sure about this?" Sparkle's voice hummed in his ear, a low, digital vibration of concern. "You are walking straight into the lion's den. Dumbledore is going to interrogate you. If he pushes too hard..."
"I have plans, Sparkle," Orion replied silently, his gaze fixed on the back of McGonagall's head. "I have backup plans. And I have backups for the backup plans."
"Which route are we taking?"
"We let the Headmaster deal the first card," Orion decided. "If he acts the benevolent grandfather and listens to reason, I play the brilliant, concerned scholar who solved a historical puzzle. If he acts the suspicious inquisitor and tries to use Legilimency to peel my mind..."
Orion's eyes glinted in the dim light.
"...I deploy the smokescreen. We pivot to the diary, or we leverage the incompetence of his golden boys to muddy the waters."
They reached the stone gargoyle guarding the Headmaster's office.
"Lemon Drops," McGonagall said briskly.
The gargoyle leaped aside, revealing the moving spiral staircase.
"Wait here," McGonagall commanded, turning to face the three boys. "I must speak with Professor Dumbledore privately for a moment. Do not engage in any further hostilities. If I hear so much as a spark from a wand, you will all be scrubbing the Owlery until graduation."
She stepped onto the stairs and was carried upward, leaving Orion alone with his accusers.
The silence on the landing was heavy and hostile. Harry and Ron stood shoulder-to-shoulder, glaring at Orion like he was a live explosive.
Orion leaned casually against the cold stone wall, crossing his arms and adopting a look of mild, detached amusement.
"I must admit, Potter," Orion drawled, breaking the silence just to watch them squirm. "I am genuinely curious. The corridors are heavily patrolled. My own movements were... exceptionally discreet. How exactly did you manage to track me to that specific bathroom without being detected by Filch or Snape?"
Harry stiffened. Ron's eyes widened slightly in panic.
"We... we just knew," Harry lied, crossing his arms defensively. "We knew you were up to something."
"Fascinating," Orion smirked, shaking his head. "A hunch. A sudden, psychic intuition that led you directly to the most dangerous room in the castle at midnight. Gryffindor instincts truly are a marvel of illogical navigation."
Ron shifted uncomfortably, leaning closer to Harry and muttering under his breath. "Bloody hell, Harry... we forgot to pick up the cloak."
Harry froze. All the color drained from his face, leaving him looking sickly pale in the torchlight. He didn't say a word, but his horrified expression was louder than a scream.
Orion's smirk vanished instantly. He closed his eyes, as he began analyzing this new variable.
The Invisibility Cloak.
It was a somewhat logical explanation. The artifact that hid the wearer from the physical eye. So maybe ...
"It hides them from the map," Sparkle whispered, her digital voice laced with awe.
"Sounds logical," Orion thought, his mind racing. "Except, if I remember it correctly, Remus Lupin in the books, once mentioned that the map shows every person within Hogwarts, including animagi and those hidden under invisibility cloaks. I have a feeling that this is not the result of the use of invisibility cloak. Rather, there is a chance that Potter and Weasley may have found a secret passage, that is not listed in the map by the Marauders."
The Marauders were notorious at finding hidden passageways and chambers all over Hogwarts and listing them on this map. However, there were places even the Marauders did not know about. Those places, Room of Requirement and Chamber of Secrets included, were not shown on the map, and thus anyone within those places, was not visible to the map too.
And Potter was perfectly capable of finding such passages, given his luck. Especially, if the goal in Potter's mind was finding and capturing Orion in his act of crime.
Regardless of the reason though, It was a massive tactical oversight on his part. He had been relying on the map as an absolute, omniscient radar. He should have been more careful, more vigilant.
They dropped it in the bathroom, Orion deduced rapidly. During the duel. It's lying in a puddle right now.
Before he could decide whether to exploit this incredible piece of leverage or keep it secret for a future operation, the heavy oak door at the top of the stairs creaked open.
"Come up," Professor McGonagall called down, her voice tight and unreadable.
Orion opened his eyes, masking his realization behind a polite, impassive facade. He pushed off the wall and stepped onto the moving stairs, leaving the panicked Gryffindors to follow in his wake.