Adrian found Fred and George waiting for him near the bottom of the Grand Staircase early on Saturday morning.
The castle was still mostly asleep, the corridors echoing only with the distant shifting of portraits.
“Right on time, junior,” Fred whispered, gesturing for Adrian to follow.
They guided him away from the main routes, slipping behind a tapestry of a hunting party and down a narrow, spiralling stone staircase.
Adrian paid close attention to the specific sequence of turns, committing this one path to memory, though he knew perfectly well he would still be hopelessly lost if he stepped off it.
They stopped in a wide, subterranean corridor in front of a massive painting of a fruit bowl.
George reached out and tickled the large green pear.
The painted fruit squirmed, let out a high-pitched giggle, and transformed into a silver door handle.
George pulled it open, revealing the Hogwarts kitchens.
The room was enormous, mirroring the exact dimensions of the Great Hall directly above it.
Hundreds of house-elves bustled between massive brick fireplaces and long wooden prep tables.
A few of the elves waved cheerfully at the twins.
Several others immediately carried the nearest trays of freshly baked pastries out of their reach, glaring suspiciously.
Fred led Adrian to a quieter table near the back, where three large silver platters were stacked high with perfectly browned toast.
“The intended enchantment,” George explained proudly, gesturing to the platters, “is to provide the eater with one completely truthful compliment the moment they take a bite.” “We needed someone entirely objective to test it,” Fred added.
“Go on.
Take a bite.” Adrian did not reach for the toast.
Instead, he looked closely at the three platters and triggered Basic Appraisal without breaking his casual posture.
The system overlay highlighted the first two platters in a faint, neutral glow.
The third platter, however, pulsed with a warning.
[Enchanted Toast] [Intended Effect: Truthful Compliment] [Current Fault: Reveals the eater’s strongest private thought aloud.] Adrian blinked away the text and looked at the twins.
“The first two batches are safe,” Adrian said.
He pointed to the third platter.
“That one isn’t giving compliments.
It will announce the strongest private thought of whoever eats it.” Fred and George exchanged one delighted look.
George immediately reached for the platter.
“That’s even better—” Adrian caught his wrist.
“No.
I am not letting you serve that to a hall full of people holding wands.” Fred opened his mouth to argue, but Adrian turned to a nearby house-elf who was watching them nervously, clearly distressed by the prospect of throwing away perfectly good food.
“We are only sending these two safe trays up to the Great Hall,” Adrian told the elf gently.
“But don’t throw this third batch in the rubbish.
Set it aside down here.
If these two ever break into the kitchens to steal a midnight snack, feed it to them.” The house-elf’s ears perked up.
He gave Adrian a deep bow and carried the dangerous platter toward a locked pantry.
Several of the other elves stopped guarding the pastries quite so fiercely.
An hour later, the Great Hall was filled with the usual Saturday morning noise.
As breakfast began, the prepared platters vanished from the kitchens and appeared across the four house tables above.
Adrian sat beside Susan, pouring himself a cup of tea and waiting.
Over at the Gryffindor table, Harry Potter picked up a slice of toast and took a bite.
A polite, echoing voice emanated from the crust.
“Your refusal to let other people decide how you should look is genuinely admirable.” Harry nearly dropped his knife, staring at his breakfast in shock.
Beside him, Ron took a massive bite of his own slice.
“You approach every meal with impressive commitment and never waste good food,” his toast announced loudly.
Across the hall at the Slytherin table, Draco Malfoy cautiously bit into a piece of toast.
“Your hair remains remarkably neat despite the castle’s humidity,” the bread declared.
Laughter began rippling across the room as students realized the food was enchanted.
Susan reached out and took a slice from the silver platter in front of them.
She took a delicate bite.
“Your attention during the most recent History of Magic lesson was unusually passionate,” her toast announced clearly.
Susan stopped chewing.
She slowly turned her head and looked directly at Adrian.
Before Adrian could defend himself, a much louder voice echoed from the elevated staff table at the front of the hall.
Professor McGonagall had just taken a bite of her breakfast.
“Your severe robes conceal a remarkably fine pair of legs,” the toast proclaimed, its voice carrying through the entire hall.
The entire Great Hall went completely, utterly silent.
Down at the Gryffindor table, Fred and George looked absolutely delighted.
Their grins stretched from ear to ear—until Minerva slowly lowered her toast and turned her head.
Her sharp gaze locked onto the twins first.
Then it moved directly to Adrian, whose involvement in the earlier corridor prank had apparently placed him permanently on her list of suspects.
Adrian took a slow sip of his tea, accepting that he was caught.
Because the prank involved enchanted food and created additional work for the house-elves, Minerva assigned all three boys to manual kitchen cleanup.
Hermione found Adrian outside the Great Hall before his detention began.
She looked annoyed by the disruption, although not entirely unimpressed.
“At least you had the sense to screen it for actual harm before they served it,” Hermione admitted begrudgingly.
Susan joined them a moment later, carrying the expression of someone whose private life had just been announced over breakfast.
“The toast was entirely accurate,” Susan told him, crossing her arms.
“But the rest of the Great Hall did not need the information.” Adrian spent the next two hours in the hot, humid kitchens, scrubbing heavy iron baking sheets alongside Fred and George.
After half an hour of scraping grease from iron trays, Adrian decided he had suffered enough to justify a practical investment.
He opened the system shop in his peripheral vision.
[SYSTEM SHOP] [Minor Cleaning Magic Fragment ×5 — 50 PP] [PURCHASE CONFIRMED] [Minor Cleaning Magic: 10/10] [PP Balance: 355 → 305] Adrian closed the screen, drew his ash wand, and pointed it at the heavily greased pan sitting in front of him.
He focused on the intent of the newly completed spell.
The grease loosened from the metal in one sheet, taking most of the baked-on crumbs with it.
A dark patch remained in one corner, forcing Adrian to cast the spell a second time.
Adrian aimed at the neighbouring pan and cast again.
Nothing happened to the dirty tray sitting beside it; the spell affected only the surface he deliberately targeted.
Limited, but perfect for detention.
Fred stopped scrubbing and stared at the gleaming pan.
“We were not taught that one.” George leaned over the tray.
“And that was not Scourgify.” “Another useful spell from the same private source,” Adrian said, handing George the clean pan and pulling a dirty one toward himself.
He redirected their attention toward the remaining mountain of cookware before they could ask any further questions.
By the time detention ended, several house-elves were waving them toward the door and students from every table knew Adrian had joined the Weasley twins in enchanting breakfast.
Adrian returned to the Hufflepuff basement with both arms aching from the scrubbing.
As he approached the common room entrance, he found Susan standing in the corridor, reading a newly posted piece of parchment on the house noticeboard.
It was the schedule for the first-year flying lessons.
Susan read the time and location, and then looked back over her shoulder at Adrian.
“Tell me,” Susan said dryly, “are broomsticks designed by healers looking for patients, or just by enemies of male anatomy?”