"Adrian, I knew you'd be here." On this breezy October afternoon, Fleagle, Ron, and Harry entered the Hogwarts library and spotted Adrian Blackwood sitting at his usual window seat, a thick potions text open in front of him. By now, Adrian's routine had become well-known: outside of classes and meals in the Great Hall, he was either in the library or in the Room of Requirement, quietly pursuing knowledge with near-obsessive dedication.
Adrian looked up from Magical Draughts and Potions and greeted the familiar faces from before the Hogwarts Express: "You lot haven't checked in for a while."
"Well, it's not like we share most classes," Fleagle said, plopping into a chair. "Except for Transfiguration with Professor McGonagall, we're always lumped with Slytherins. Honestly, I think they designed the schedule just to torture us."
"The library might as well be your common room now," Ron added with a teasing grin. "You didn't work half this hard back in our Muggle school days."
Adrian smirked. "I've heard a few of your exploits, by the way. Like today—Harry did something pretty noble. Helped Neville Longbottom get his Remembrall back from Malfoy."
Even tucked away in the quiet corners of the library, Adrian had picked up the buzz. Whispers among the younger students had stirred even Madam Pince to glare them into silence.
"Yeah!" Fleagle beamed proudly, as if he had performed the feat. "Harry was amazing—dived from a fifty-foot broom height and snatched Neville's Remembrall mid-air!"
"I saw Neville glowing when he got it back," Adrian mused aloud. "Though… what did he forget?"
"He forgot to wear his Hogwarts robes," Ron said with a shrug, voice a tad too loud. (Author's Note: In the Philosopher's Stone movie, Neville is the only one not in uniform.)
"Shhh! This is the library, not the Gryffindor common room!" Madam Pince barked, sweeping her feather duster like a battle standard in their direction.
Ron slouched lower, abashed.
"But here's the thing," Harry leaned closer, voice hushed now, "Malfoy challenged me to a wizard's duel—tonight. But… well, I barely know any spells, and he picked Crabbe as his second."
"I was going to be Harry's second," Fleagle added quickly, "but Ron and I both agreed—Adrian, you're the better choice."
Ron, slightly defensive, clarified, "Not that we're saying you're unbeatable or anything. Just… Fleagle can barely make his quill levitate, and you've actually read the Standard Book of Spells cover to cover. Twice."
Adrian raised an eyebrow. "And none of you thought Malfoy might not even show? This sounds like a setup. Dueling after curfew? It's classic Slytherin mischief—and reckless."
"Even so," Ron replied stiffly, "a wizard never backs down from a duel. It's a matter of honor."
Adrian sighed. Ron wasn't wrong. Among old pure-blood families like the Malfoys, duels—though now banned in formal education—still carried symbolic weight. And Draco, being part of the Sacred Twenty-Eight, would risk sullying his family's name if he simply ran from a public challenge, even among first-years. Still, Adrian had the distinct feeling Draco was planning to slink away, likely aiming to land Harry in detention while escaping scot-free.
Harry met Adrian's gaze with a quiet plea. "Will you be my second?"
Adrian paused. Refusing would draw unwanted attention. Agreeing, however, gave him an excuse to witness something he'd been curious about since the Hogwarts Express—the forbidden third-floor corridor and the rumored three-headed dog.
"…Alright. As you wish, my friend."
Harry and Ron grinned and high-fived, forgetting again where they were.
"OUT! All of you, OUT!" Madam Pince shrieked, storming toward them with the feather duster like a dueling wand.
"Right—see you at the Trophy Room, half past eleven!" Harry called as they scrambled from the library.
After the noise died down, a familiar voice floated from behind the nearby bookshelf.
"Going to duel Malfoy?" asked Edward, Adrian's Ravenclaw roommate, who emerged mid-yawn, clutching One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi.
Adrian closed his book and stretched. "Don't worry. There won't be any actual duel. This is just Draco being Draco."
Edward chuckled. "This is what we've come to, eh? First-years shooting sparks at each other in the dark for honor."
"If we're caught, it's just a few House points lost, and we'll earn them back by next week," Adrian said matter-of-factly.
They shared a knowing glance—life at Hogwarts was far from dull.
And besides that bit of chaos, Adrian's day had been satisfying. He had finally finished reading One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi, another step closer to completing his Potions Mastery quest. The more he read, the clearer it became: behind every labeled vial or flick of the wand lay layers of subtle knowledge—and he was determined to master them all.
At 11:30 p.m., well past curfew, Adrian Blackwood rose silently from bed in the Ravenclaw Tower, careful not to wake Edward, who was already snoring softly. Slipping on his enchanted wizard's robe, which came with a built-in Disillusionment Charm, Adrian moved like a shadow through the dark corridors of Hogwarts.
His destination: the Trophy Room on the fourth floor, where Harry was supposed to face Draco Malfoy in a wizard's duel.
The Trophy Room was an ornate gallery filled with crystal display cases holding decades of school honors—medals, plaques, shields, and even ancient statues awarded to both teachers and students. A gleaming list on the wall bore the engraved names of past Head Boys and Girls, including Tom Riddle, which Adrian had noted with quiet intrigue during his earlier visits.
He ducked behind a tall glass cabinet, waiting silently until a mop of untidy black hair appeared under the moonlight filtering through the high windows.
"You're late. Looking forward to tonight's duel, Harry?" Adrian asked coolly. Then his eyes narrowed as he noticed an extra silhouette behind the others. "Hey… there's someone else."
Harry gave an awkward nod as Ron gestured toward the girl behind him.
"This is Hermione Granger," Ron muttered. "She insisted on following us. We couldn't stop her."
"You're all breaking school rules," Hermione said with her nose in the air, her bushy hair bouncing in time with her indignation. "I didn't expect you, Mr. Blackwood, of all people, to be part of this foolishness."
Adrian raised an eyebrow. "Miss Granger, I'd remind you that you're now complicit in the same rule-breaking."
Hermione's mouth opened to argue, but Adrian pressed on, his voice calm and precise. "Do you really think Professor McGonagall would care that the Fat Lady left her portrait frame? She wouldn't consider that an excuse."
"That's not fair!" Hermione huffed. "I couldn't get back into the common room! And you—you're a top student, Adrian! All the professors say so! Surely you don't think a duel is anything but reckless?"
"We're agreed—it's a ridiculous duel," Adrian said evenly. "But it's about dignity, not spellwork. If we back out now, it looks like cowardice. Especially to someone like Malfoy."
Hermione tried to retort, but Adrian turned to Harry instead. "So, did you two agree on a time? It's already well past curfew. Still no sign of Draco?"
"I don't get it," Harry muttered, checking his watch—a Muggle mechanical timepiece that Fleagle had given him. "It's already midnight. Maybe they showed up and got caught by Filch?"
"Malfoy might be smart enough to avoid getting caught," Adrian said with a smirk. "But Crabbe? Not likely."
"You could spot him even under an Invisibility Cloak," Ron muttered, scowling. "Malfoy's just chickening out. Typical Slytherin."
The moonlight shimmered over the trophies and shields, casting silver and gold glints across the marble floor. The five of them crept along the walls, their wands out, eyes shifting between the room's two doors. Harry gripped his wand tighter, half-expecting Malfoy to burst in, wand blazing.
Minutes passed. Silence stretched thin.
"Maybe he's scared," Ron whispered, fidgeting.
Then—a noise. A voice.
"Where might this lot be hiding, eh, my sweet?" came the gruff mutter of Argus Filch, Hogwarts' cantankerous caretaker.
It made Fleagle jump nearly a foot. The rest drew their wands instinctively, faces pale.
"Quick!" Harry whispered, waving frantically for them to follow. They backed away from Filch's voice and slipped through the far door, just as the caretaker muttered something about students hiding behind cabinets.
"Here we go!" Adrian gestured silently, fingers slicing the air like a conductor. Even Hermione, now white-faced, nodded and followed without question.
They crept along a corridor lined with suits of armor. The flickering torchlight made the metal seem alive. Then—
Clang! Clatter!
Fleagle stumbled into a suit of armor. A gauntlet fell with a crash, echoing like thunder.
"Run!" Adrian shouted, bolting down the hallway.
The others sprinted after him. None dared look back to see if Filch was giving chase. They twisted down stairwells, past archways and portraits of snoring wizards, before finally coming to a breathless stop just outside Professor Flitwick's classroom.
"I—told—you—so," Hermione gasped, clutching the front of her robes like armor.
Adrian didn't answer. His sharp eyes scanned the corridor behind them, but his mind was elsewhere.
The forbidden third-floor corridor was just ahead.
And according to what he'd overheard from a group of Ravenclaws, that was where "Fluffy", the mysterious three-headed dog, was hidden—a creature that, if rumors were true, loved music and guarded something behind a trapdoor.
Interesting, Adrian thought. His system quest related to Hogwarts' ancient secrets, and whatever was being hidden beneath the school might just be part of it.