The spiral staircase groaned as it ascended, depositing Orion before the heavy oak door with the griffin knocker. It swung open silently upon his approach, revealing the circular, multi-level sanctuary of the Headmaster.
The office was empty of human presence, but it was far from silent. Dozens of silver instruments whirred, puffed, and clicked on spindle-legged tables. The portraits of past Headmasters and Headmistresses were feigning sleep, though Orion could see eyelids twitching as they peeked at the intruder.
Orion walked in, his dragon-hide boots making no sound on the plush carpet. Snape had chosen to simply drop him and leave, probably to take a calming draught for himself, or perhaps firewhiskey.
A soft, melodic trill echoed from the golden perch near the window. Fawkes the Phoenix ruffled his crimson feathers and tilted his head.
"You brought the thief," the bird sang, the notes translating into amused skepticism in Orion's mind. "Hide your buttons, little wizard. He smells like greed."
"He prefers the term 'enthusiastic collector'," Orion whispered back, offering the bird a respectful nod. "Good evening, Fawkes. You're looking radiant."
"Flattery gets you everywhere," Fawkes preened. "The old man is hiding. He likes his entrances. Upstairs."
Orion suppressed a smirk. Of course Dumbledore was waiting for a dramatic cue.
Orion moved toward the walls, examining the sleeping portraits. He stopped in front of a particularly grumpy-looking wizard with a pointed beard and green silk robes.
"Good evening, Great-Great-Great Grandfather," Orion said politely.
Phineas Nigellus Black opened one eye. He peered down his nose at the boy. "Malfoy," he grunted. "I recognize the chin. And the hair. Though you lack the stiff spine of your father. Slouching is a sign of a weak mind."
"I prefer 'relaxed readiness'," Orion corrected. "And I believe I inherited my spine from my mother. Narcissa Black."
Phineas scoffed, opening both eyes. "Narcissa. Yes. She had the Black fire, though she hid it behind ice. You have her eyes. And her insolence, it seems. Do not think you can charm me, boy. I was the most unpopular Headmaster this school has ever seen, and I wear the title with pride."
"Then we have something in common," Orion drawled. "I aim to be the most confusing student this school has ever seen."
Phineas let out a bark of laughter before shutting his eyes again. "Go away. You're giving me a headache."
Orion turned away from the wall, moving toward the central shelves where Dumbledore kept his collection of curious artifacts.
Suddenly, his pocket vibrated.
"Shiny!"
Before Orion could clamp his hand over the opening, a black blur exploded from his robes. Robin the Niffler hit the floor running, his snout twitching violently as he took in the paradise of silver and gold surrounding him.
"MINE! ALL MINE!" Robin squeaked, scrambling up the leg of a spindle table.
He lunged for a delicate silver instrument that looked like a spinning top. He grabbed it with both paws and pulled.
Nothing happened.
The instrument didn't budge. It was stuck fast to the table.
Robin frowned. He pulled harder, bracing his feet against the wood. He grunted. He strained.
"Stuck!" Robin cried, looking betrayed. "Why stuck? Loose! Be loose!"
He abandoned the top and leaped for a golden locket. Stuck. He tried to pry a ruby from a goblet. Stuck.
"Stick-fast Charms," Orion noted, crossing his arms and watching the Niffler's frantic, fruitless heist. "He anticipated you, Robin."
Robin let out a sound of pure frustration. He scanned the room, desperate for a win.
Then, he saw it.
On a high shelf, resting on a small velvet cushion, was a Golden Snitch. It wasn't stuck down. It was fluttering its wings lazily, hovering just an inch above the velvet.
Robin's eyes went wide. "FLYING SHINY!"
He launched himself. He used a stack of books as a springboard, vaulting into the air with surprising agility for a creature shaped like a potato. He was a heat-seeking missile of fur, claws outstretched, aiming perfectly for the golden ball.
Orion didn't move his feet. He simply flicked his wrist. The Hawthorn wand snapped into his hand.
"Wingardium Leviosa."
The spell caught Robin in mid-air, just inches from the Snitch. The Niffler froze, suspended in a magical stasis field, his paws outstretched, his face a mask of tragic longing.
Orion gently pulled his wand back. Robin floated backward through the air, drifting safely into Orion's outstretched hand.
Orion grabbed the creature by the scruff of the neck. Robin went limp, letting out a defeated sigh.
"So close," the Niffler whimpered. "Tasted the gold."
"Nice try," Orion muttered, stuffing the creature back into his expanded pocket. "Stay."
"A beautifully executed charm, Mr. Malfoy," a calm voice spoke from the upper landing. "Though your reaction time suggests you anticipated the attempt."
Albus Dumbledore descended the spiral stairs, his purple robes sweeping the steps. He looked amused, his eyes twinkling behind his spectacles.
"Good evening, Headmaster," Orion said, holstering his wand. "And yes. I could have stopped him when he first jumped out. But I was curious."
"Curious?"
"I wanted to see how many things he could nab from the Headmaster's office before I caught him," Orion admitted with a smirk. "It was a stress test of your security measures. The Stick-fast Charms were a nice touch."
Dumbledore chuckled, moving behind his desk. "I have an old acquaintance... a brilliant man, though rather fond of blue coats... who also keeps a Niffler. A much naughtier version than yours, I might add. I learned long ago that if a Niffler is in the building, one must bolt down the silverware."
He sat down, gesturing for Orion to take the seat opposite him.
"I was mildly curious myself," Dumbledore admitted. "To see how chaotic this little one would be. Alas, it seems you have him on a tight leash."
"I like chaos, Headmaster," Orion said, sitting down. "But I prefer it to be regulated. Controlled. Directed."
"A very Slytherin approach to disorder," Dumbledore nodded. "Now, regarding the creature's presence at school."
Dumbledore picked up a sherbet lemon, offering the tin to Orion. Orion declined, simply because he had just had dinner.
"I approved your request," Dumbledore said, popping the candy into his mouth, "primarily because the rule regarding pets—cats, owls, and toads—is largely a precautionary measure. It is designed to stop students from bringing dangerous or unmanageable creatures. Like, say, Acromantulas."
Orion snorted softly. "That didn't stop Lee Jordan from bringing a tarantula the size of a dinner plate last year. I saw him frightening the first years with it in the hall itself."
"Ah, yes. Mr. Jordan," Dumbledore's eyes crinkled. "Just like you, he asked for permission. I inspected the arachnid, ensured it was non-venomous and trained not to bite, and approved it. I believe in fostering a connection with nature, provided nature does not try to eat the other students."
He looked pointedly at Orion's pocket, which was currently wiggling.
"Nifflers are... exuberant. But not malicious. As long as he does not undermine the structural integrity of the castle in search of gold, he is welcome."
Dumbledore leaned forward.
"Take good care of him, Orion. These creatures require stimulation and patience. If you find yourself needing assistance—dietary advice, behavioral charms, or simply a place to let him run wild—do let Professor Snape or myself know. I can contact my friend. He literally wrote the book on them."
"Newt Scamander," Orion realized. "You're talking about Newt Scamander."
"I am," Dumbledore winked. "But let us keep that between us. He prefers his privacy."
"Understood," Orion stood up. "Thank you, Headmaster. For the permission. And the leniency."
"Goodnight, Orion. And do try to keep the shiny things in the castle attached to their owners."
"I'll do my best."
Orion turned and left the office. As the door clicked shut, he patted his pocket.
"Did you hear that, Robin?" Orion whispered. "We have the blessing of the highest authority. The castle is officially our playground."
"Does playground have gold?" Robin chirped sleepily.
"More than you can imagine."
Orion headed for the dungeons, his mind already turning to the year ahead. The Chamber was waiting. The Diary was in play. And he had a Niffler with a license to thrill.
Year Two had officially begun.