The black flames danced silently in the archway, casting long, flickering shadows against the circular walls of the final chamber. Orion sat comfortably in his plush green armchair, his back to the entrance, listening to the silence.
It didn't last long.
Ten minutes later, the distinct sound of stumbling footsteps and heavy breathing echoed from behind the wall of fire.
Orion checked his Astrum Navigator. Right on time.
Harry Potter burst through the black flames. He looked like he had been through a war zone. His robes were singed, his glasses were crooked and cracked, and there was a nasty bruise blooming on his jaw—likely a parting gift from the giant chess set. He was alone; Ron and Hermione had evidently been sacrificed to the greater good of the obstacle course.
Harry stopped, chest heaving, his green eyes locking onto the back of the green armchair and the boy sitting in it.
"I knew it," Harry wheezed, his voice thick with exhaustion and righteous fury. "It is you."
Orion didn't turn around. He held the Stone up, letting the dim light catch its ruby facets.
"You figured it out," Orion drawled, his voice bored. "Bravo."
"You were the one!" Harry shouted, stepping further into the room, his wand raised shakily. "You brought the troll in on Halloween! You didn't save Hermione because you cared—you used the troll to clear the path to the dog! You've been planning this all year!"
"A compelling theory," Orion noted.
"You acted like the good Slytherin," Harry spat. "Helping Neville. Helping everyone with studies! You're working for him, aren't you? You're going to give the Stone to Voldemort!"
Orion finally laughed. It was a low, dry sound.
"Great deduction, Potter," Orion said, still not turning. "Truly. The narrative logic is sound, even if the premise is flawed. Should I give you points? Ten points to Gryffindor for creative writing? It might help you climb out of the negative hundreds."
"Shut up!" Harry yelled. "Give me the Stone, Malfoy! Giving it to a monster won't help you! It's wrong!"
Orion stood up slowly. He turned to face the Boy Who Lived. His expression wasn't angry; it was pitiful.
"You want the Stone?" Orion asked softly.
"I'm going to stop you," Harry declared, gripping his wand tighter.
Orion smirked. He channeled his inner power-fantasy, letting his demeanor shift from student to boss battle.
"It is quite clear, Potter," Orion said, his voice dropping an octave. "If you want it... then you'll have to take it."
Harry braced himself. "I will."
"But you already knew that," Orion smirked. "Didn't you?"
Orion's hand moved.
Snap.
The green armchair vanished into his Inventory. The "Philosopher's Stone" vanished into his Inventory.
In the same motion, his wrist flicked. The Hawthorn wand shot from his dragon-hide holster into his hand with a sharp click.
"Come on, Harry Potter," Orion taunted, raising his wand in a dueling stance. "Show me that Gryffindor bravery. Show me what the Chosen One can do."
Harry's eyes widened. He opened his mouth to shout a spell—probably Flipendo or something equally useless.
"Expelliarmus!"
Orion didn't shout. He cast with lethal speed. The jet of red light crossed the room before Harry could even twitch.
Harry made no attempt to dodge. He had no training. He had no reflexes. He just stood there.
WHAM.
The spell hit Harry squarely in the chest. His wand flew out of his hand, clattering across the stone floor into the shadows. Harry was thrown backward, landing hard on his back.
He scrambled to get up, panic etched on his face.
"Incarcerous."
Thick, black ropes shot from Orion's wand. They wrapped around Harry's torso, arms, and legs, binding him tight. Harry fell over with a thud, wriggling like a worm on the pavement.
"Let me go!" Harry yelled, struggling against the bindings.
"You are noisy," Orion sighed. "Petrificus Totalus."
Harry's arms and legs snapped together. His jaw clicked shut. His eyes went wide with terror as his entire body went rigid.
Silence returned to the chamber.
Orion lowered his wand. He shook his head, looking down at the immobilized savior of the wizarding world.
"Disappointing," Orion murmured. "Zero evasive maneuvers. No shield charm. You didn't even try to duck, Potter. What do they teach you in Gryffindor? Head-first into the wall?"
He walked over to the stiff form of Harry Potter. He grabbed the back of Harry's collar and dragged him across the floor.
He dumped Harry next to the paralyzed, bound form of Terence Higgs.
"There," Orion dusted off his hands. "The Two Stooges. A matched set."
He looked at them. Higgs was terrified. Harry was furious (and terrified).
"Stay there and think about your life choices," Orion advised.
He summoned his green armchair again, placing it right next to his captives. He sat down, crossing his legs comfortably.
"Inventory," he whispered.
The red stone appeared in his hand.
"Now that the noise has stopped," Orion said, holding the stone up to the light. "Let's see what all the fuss is about."
"Don't bother," Sparkle's voice chimed in, sounding amused. "I already ran the diagnostics while it was in the grid."
"And?"
"It's a rock," Sparkle deadpanned. "It's a ruby. A very nice, very large ruby. It has a high capacity for holding magical charge, and there's a glamour on it to make it feel ancient... but it's not the Philosopher's Stone. It's a prop."
Orion stared at the stone. He wasn't surprised.
"Of course it is," Orion sighed, tossing the heavy gem into the air and catching it. "Dumbledore wouldn't leave the pinnacle of alchemy in a room guarded by a logic puzzle and a plant. If the real Stone is even in the castle, it's probably in his pocket. Or in a Fidelius-charmed safe under his desk."
He looked at Harry, who was staring at the stone with wide eyes.
"It's a fake, Potter," Orion said casually, tapping the gem. "This? It's bait. You ran through fire and played chess with giant statues for a paperweight."
Harry's eyes bulged. He couldn't speak, but his expression screamed Liar!
"Believe what you want," Orion shrugged. He put the fake stone back in his pocket (not the Inventory, just his robe pocket).
He checked his Astrum Navigator watch.
"McGonagall must have gotten his note already. Which means the cavalry will be here in approx five minutes."
Orion leaned back, closing his eyes.
"Wake me up when the adults arrive."
The chamber fell silent again, save for the crackling of the black fire. Two bound students lay on the floor, and one Slytherin sat on a throne of his own making, waiting for the curtain call.