By the following Monday, Adrian had stopped expecting Hogwarts to become ordinary.
The castle was becoming familiar in pieces, but those pieces refused to stay where he left them.
A staircase he had used twice turned toward a different landing before breakfast, a portrait that had helped him find the library insisted that they had never met, and the corridor outside the Great Hall seemed longer whenever he was already late.
He was beginning to enjoy the challenge.
Cedric glanced at Adrian as they rounded another corner, then slowed beside a familiar suit of armour.
“We’ve passed this one three times,” he said, looking back along the corridor.
“I’m beginning to think you don’t know where we’re going.”
Adrian checked the doorway beyond it and reluctantly stopped.
“Okay, this might be the wrong floor.”
“Then let’s ask someone.” Cedric turned toward a pair of older students approaching from the stairs, catching Adrian’s sleeve before he could investigate another passage.
“We can look round after Charms.”
They reached the classroom with seconds to spare.
Fred and George arrived behind them, slightly out of breath but still grinning, and Flitwick closed the door once everyone was seated.
Today’s lesson concerned a charm that changed the colour of an object.
The professor demonstrated with a row of glass beads, turning a blue one bright red before returning it to its original colour.
Adrian copied the wand movement and repeated the incantation.
Nothing happened.
He tried again, loosening his grip and concentrating on the result rather than the movement.
A faint green line appeared through the centre of the bead before fading.
Flitwick paused beside Adrian’s desk as the faint green line disappeared from the bead.
“There, you’ve begun to change it,” he said, leaning closer.
“Try again, and keep your wand steady through the final part.”
Adrian adjusted his grip and repeated the charm.
The green returned slowly, spreading through the glass while he concentrated, but a patch of blue remained near the bottom.
“Keep going,” Flitwick encouraged.
“There’s no need to hurry.”
By the time the colour settled, Adrian’s fingers had begun to ache.
He lowered his wand and turned the bead between them, checking it from several angles before allowing himself a smile.
Cedric leaned closer.
“That’s much better.
Mine’s still only changed on one side.”
“Try holding it toward the light,” Adrian said, placing his own bead on the desk.
“I couldn’t tell how much I’d missed until I did that.”
Flitwick nodded approvingly before moving to Cedric’s work.
Behind them, Fred held up a bead so pale that Adrian could barely distinguish it from its original colour.
“Mine looks ill.”
George examined it against the window.
“At least it’s changed.
Percy said he managed this straightaway.”
“Percy says that about everything.”
“Then you shall have something to discuss in your next letter home,” Flitwick said as he reached their desk.
“Show me your wand movement, Mr.
Weasley.
I suspect we can improve on that.”
Fred set the bead down and demonstrated, while George moved his book aside to watch the correction.
Adrian kept his attention on the bead, though Cedric’s shoulders shook beside him.
Transfiguration did a thorough job of keeping Adrian’s success from going to his head.
McGonagall was already standing at the front when they entered, and the sight of her persuaded the class to settle more quickly than usual.
She waited until everyone had taken out their books before beginning.
“Today, you will attempt a transformation involving a living subject,” she said.
“You will follow the instructions exactly, and you will not improvise.”
With a movement of her wand, the cup beside her became a beetle.
It crawled toward the edge before she restored it to its original form.
Adrian leaned forward.
McGonagall noticed.
“If you are wondering whether the beetle was harmed, Mr.
Clarke, the answer is no.
If you are wondering whether your own attempt will be as successful, that remains to be seen.”
Their assignment was to transform a beetle into a button.
Adrian watched the demonstration again, then raised his wand.
His first attempt did nothing.
The second made the beetle’s shell shine briefly, and the third caused one leg to turn silver before returning to normal.
McGonagall stopped beside Adrian’s desk and watched him attempt the spell.
The beetle’s shell briefly lost its shine, but otherwise it remained unchanged.
“You’re cutting the movement short, Mr.
Clarke.
Watch.”
She demonstrated slowly, and Adrian followed without speaking the incantation until she was satisfied with the angle.
“Now try it again.”
He completed the movement more carefully this time, concentrating on the button she had shown them.
The beetle contracted into a small black disc, then sprouted legs and began crawling toward his parchment.
McGonagall stopped it with her wand before it reached the page.
“The shape was closer.
Keep your attention on the result until you have finished casting.”
Adrian lowered his wand and flexed his fingers.
“I keep checking whether it’s working.”
“Yes, and interrupting yourself in the process.” She placed the beetle back in the middle of his desk.
“You will have time to inspect it afterwards.”
He nodded and tried again while she watched.
The spell still felt awkward, but correcting something specific gave him more to work with than simply putting greater effort into the next attempt.
By the end of the lesson, Adrian had managed a flattened shape with two shallow holes, though several legs remained beneath it.
Behind them, Fred nudged his attempt away from the edge of the desk.
“Mine keeps trying to leave.”
George moved his book out of its path.
“Put something in front of it, then.”
McGonagall reached their desk before Fred could arrange a barrier and restored both specimens with a flick of her wand.
“Your results will remain here, gentlemen.
Pack your things.”
Adrian did not go to Hagrid’s hut that afternoon.
He had promised himself that he would resume his physical training once Hogwarts stopped feeling like one enormous surprise, and the novelty had finally settled into something manageable.
He still wanted to investigate every corridor and ask questions about every creature, but he had learned enough of the daily routine to recognise when he needed to do something familiar.
He found an empty stretch of lawn behind one of the outer courtyards and set his bag beside the wall.
The training was simple.
He warmed up with a short run, stretched properly, then worked through controlled footwork and combinations.
In his previous life, MMA had been something he practised for fun, never seriously enough to compete, but often enough to keep his body in shape and his reactions sharp.
He had carried the habit into this life, although at eleven he trained less often and his parents insisted that he keep the sessions sensible.
Hogwarts had interrupted the routine completely.
Now he was starting again.
There were no mats or heavy bags, so he kept his movements compact and careful, practising balance, slips, sprawls, and controlled transitions across the grass.
He finished with stretches, breathing steadily while the castle rose around him.
“Are you practising some form of Muggle duelling?”
Adrian turned.
Professor Snape stood beneath the archway, black robes falling motionlessly around him.
“MMA,” Adrian said.
Snape’s expression suggested the answer had created more questions than it solved.
“An acronym.
How efficient.”
“Mixed martial arts.
Fighting, basically.”
“Then your decision to practise it alone on uneven ground is even more idiotic than it appeared.”
Adrian glanced at the grass, then back at Snape.
“I checked the ground before I started.
I’m just working on footwork.”
“Then perhaps you should pay attention to your feet.
You were looking at the roof when I arrived.”
Adrian followed his gaze toward the birds gathered above the courtyard.
He had stopped to watch them, although explaining that seemed unlikely to improve the conversation.
“Fair point.”
Snape looked over the patch of lawn, his attention briefly settling on Adrian’s bag beside the wall.
“Is there a reason this requires you to throw yourself on the ground?”
“It’s part of the practice.
My parents know I do it.” Adrian brushed a few blades of grass from his sleeve.
“Mom mostly worries about what I bring back into the house.”
“I can see that she has ample cause.”
Adrian smiled and collected his bag, checking that he hadn’t left anything beside it.
Snape remained beneath the archway, watching him approach.
“If you injure yourself, you will report to Madam Pomfrey immediately.
You will not conceal it until someone else is obliged to deal with the consequences.”
The change in his tone was slight, but Adrian recognised the instruction beneath it.
“Yes, sir.
I will.”
“Good.
I have no desire to hear how a boy capable of following a potion recipe managed to cripple himself on an empty lawn.”
“I’d have a hard time explaining that one.”
Snape gave him a cold look and stepped aside.
Adrian took the opening, still faintly smiling as he headed back into the castle.
The next morning, Flitwick returned Adrian’s written work with a note beneath the name of the Levitation Charm.
Use the accepted incantation in formal notes.
Adrian read it, then raised his hand.
“Yes, Mr.
Clarke?”
“Can I write both names?
I understand Float better, but I don’t want to confuse anyone.”
Flitwick considered the page.
“That would be acceptable, provided you make clear that they refer to the same charm.
Magical terminology exists to help us communicate, not to prevent you from understanding what you are doing.”
“Got it.”
“Though I should warn you that inventing personal names for every spell may make your essays rather difficult to mark.”
“I’ll try to keep it under control.”
“An excellent plan.”
Fred leaned across from the next desk.
“What’s the name for the colour-changing one?”
“I haven’t figured it out yet.”
George tapped his quill against the parchment.
“You could call it Green.”
“That’s already taken.”
Fred looked impressed.
“You’ve got categories?”
“Kind of.”
Cedric turned toward him.
“Not enough to explain.”
That satisfied nobody, but Flitwick began the next demonstration before they could continue.
Adrian watched the bead change from blue to red, then back again, thinking about the difference between recognising a result and understanding the magic that produced it.
He had come to Hogwarts expecting answers, but the school kept giving him better questions.
By Friday, his training had become a quiet part of the week.
He practised when he had the time, usually alone and never for long.
His parents had taught him that training was useful only when it left him stronger rather than injured, and he had no interest in proving anything to a castle full of portraits and moving staircases.
Adrian was changing after dinner when Cedric looked up from his book.
“Going out to practise?”
“Yeah.
I’ve been sitting down all afternoon.”
Cedric marked his page and set the book aside.
“I’ll come with you.
Show me what you’re actually doing.”
They found the courtyard empty, and Adrian left his bag beside the low wall before beginning his warm-up.
Cedric watched for a few minutes, then stood to try the footwork, following Adrian’s movements with his eyes before copying them.
“Keep your feet a little farther apart,” Adrian said.
“There.
You’ll feel it if you’re off balance.”
Cedric adjusted his stance and moved again, getting it close enough that Adrian nodded.
“That’s pretty good.”
“Charlie showed us something similar for keeping our balance on a broom.” Cedric tried another step, then looked at him.
“Do you practise with anyone at home?”
“Mostly on my own.
Dad watches sometimes.”
Adrian demonstrated the movement again, keeping it slow while Cedric followed.
His friend picked up the adjustment quickly, though he laughed when he caught himself crossing his feet.
They paused beside the wall after a few minutes, and Cedric glanced at Adrian’s wand where it lay safely inside his open bag.
“Would you actually use this if someone had a wand?”
“Depends what was happening.” Adrian reached for his water.
“I’d rather get out of the way.
But if somebody’s right in front of me, I’m not going to stand there digging through my pocket.”
Cedric considered that, then looked down at his own robes.
“Mine does catch sometimes.”
“Exactly.”
A voice came from beneath the archway before they could resume.
“Diggory.
I had hoped you possessed better judgment.”
Cedric straightened as Snape approached, while Adrian put down his water.
“He wanted to try it, sir.”
“I was addressing Diggory.”
“Yes, Professor,” Cedric said.
“I asked to come.”
Snape looked between them, then toward the bags beside the wall.
Adrian waited, remembering the instructions from their previous encounter.
“No injuries,” he offered.
“How reassuring.
You have survived several minutes in an empty courtyard.”
Adrian pressed his lips together, which did little to conceal his amusement.
Snape’s gaze settled on him.
“You will both be back inside before curfew.
I shall not accept Clarke’s inability to tell the time as an explanation from either of you.”
Cedric answered at once, and Snape continued through the archway without waiting for further discussion.
After he had gone, Adrian checked his watch.
“We’ve got time.”
Cedric followed him back into the open space.
“Show me that last step again.”
Adrian demonstrated slowly, then watched Cedric repeat it.
They practised until the light began to fade, finishing with a few stretches before collecting their bags.
As Adrian checked beneath the wall for anything they had missed, Cedric glanced toward the archway.
“I thought he was going to send us inside.”
“He told me last time to go straight to Madam Pomfrey if I got hurt.” Adrian pulled his bag onto his shoulder.
“I think he mostly wants to make sure I don’t do something stupid and hide it.”
“That doesn’t mean he likes you.”
“I like him.”
Cedric stopped fastening his bag and looked up, apparently waiting for the joke.
Adrian smiled.
“He’s kind of a teddy bear.”
“Snape?”
The name came out loudly enough that Cedric immediately checked the archway again.
Adrian laughed and started toward the door, leaving his friend to catch up.
“He spent half our shopping trip complaining about me, but he still made sure I got decent equipment.
He even let me go back for more books.”
“He was taking you shopping.
He could hardly leave you there.”
“Sure.
But he checked my scales himself.”
Cedric walked beside him in silence for a few steps, considering that.
“I still wouldn’t call him a teddy bear.”
Adrian pushed open the door.
“Probably don’t tell him I did, either.”