With their plan in motion, the Weasley twins got to work like professional scam artists. They spent their days hanging around the Slytherin table, loudly bragging about Gryffindor's "amazing new tactics" that would supposedly crush their old rivals.
They also made sure to spread the word about Adrian's bet, carefully spinning it as the "Hero of Gryffindor" offering ten-to-one odds if Gryffindor won, with much better payouts if Slytherin managed their expected victory.
The Slytherin students reacted exactly like Adrian thought they would, getting all offended at the idea they might lose. As the richest house at Hogwarts, they had plenty of spending money. Adrian quickly found himself collecting several Galleons, though most bets were just Sickles and Knuts.
After all, this was supposed to be harmless fun between students, so most people only bet a few Knuts or maybe a Sickle...
Even so, their betting pool had grown big over the past few days. With occasional bets from students in other houses, their original money wasn't enough to cover what they might have to pay out.
If they lost this bet, they'd be totally screwed.
This realization made George and Fred more and more nervous, and they decided they needed to do something to improve their odds.
Like... giving Harry some extra training!
Harry, who had no clue about the financial empire riding on his performance, found himself stuck with even more brutal practice sessions.
Luckily, these awful days didn't last long, and the Quidditch match finally arrived.
"Harry, you absolutely have to catch the Snitch!" George said backstage, staring at their seeker like a general talking to troops before the final battle, as if this Quidditch match would decide the fate of the world.
"Yeah, or we'll be eating dirt for the rest of the term," Fred added with just as much drama.
Harry looked confused. This wasn't the first time he'd heard stuff like this over the past few days.
At first, Harry had felt really responsible, thinking these were just encouraging words from his upperclassmen. But soon he noticed that students from Slytherin... Ravenclaw... even Hufflepuff were coming up to him with weird comments that made no sense.
This left Harry totally confused, though he couldn't figure out exactly what was wrong.
Captain Wood, after giving his usual inspirational speech, noticed Harry looked distracted and gave him a sharp reminder.
"Don't lose focus, Harry. The match is about to start."
"Right..." Harry shook off his nerves and nodded.
The arena gates opened, and the Gryffindor team flew out together on their brooms, Harry following close behind.
Coming out of the dark backstage area, Harry found himself facing the huge circular arena. The normally empty stands were packed with cheering fans, and the Gryffindor section exploded in support as their team appeared.
Ron and Neville were holding up a massive banner made from what looked like a ripped bedsheet, with words that Hermione had charmed to flash and sparkle in the air:
"Win It, Potter!"
Harry felt touched, though he noticed something weird, Adrian was nowhere to be seen in the Gryffindor stands. After looking around the crowd, Harry spotted him sitting near the Slytherin section, right next to Professor Quirrell.
Harry was wondering why Adrian would pick such a strange seat when he saw his friend smile and point his wand at the sky.
A second later, a bright firework shot up and exploded several dozen meters high, the sparkling bits forming the words "Gryffindor Will Win! Go Harry Potter!"
Warmth filled Harry's chest, and instead of worrying about his earlier confusion, he focused completely on the upcoming match.
Meanwhile, Adrian settled in for his real job today: watching Quirrell.
Honestly, if this Quidditch match wasn't directly tied to whether he got rich overnight or went totally broke, Adrian wouldn't have planned to get anywhere near Quirrell this semester.
After all, right now, besides the mysterious Dumbledore who might suspect something, Adrian was basically the only person who knew that Voldemort was literally living on the back of Quirrell's head.
Getting indirectly exposed to the final boss while still in first year made Adrian really uncomfortable.
Fortunately, he didn't need to do anything dramatic, just sit nearby and keep an eye on Quirrell occasionally. Adrian was confident the professor wouldn't dare try any spellcasting while being watched so closely.
"Why do you keep staring at me like that?" Quirrell asked uncomfortably after dealing with Adrian's periodic staring. He hunched further into the corner, feeling like all his secrets were being exposed.
Adrian realized his direct staring was getting too obvious and quickly switched to a more casual approach, starting what he hoped would seem like normal conversation.
"Professor Quirrell," he said with fake curiosity, "I heard you once ran into a vampire in the Romanian forests. Is that really true?"
"Ah... yes, that did happen," Quirrell replied reluctantly. "I barely got away..."
"Cool! And what about your experience with zombies in Africa..."
"I also heard you fainted when they announced the troll news at the Halloween feast..."
"And then there was..."
This was Adrian's first time having any real conversation with the Dark Lord (even indirectly), and his nerves were definitely showing. He had no idea what topics were okay, would talking about school subjects seem too suspicious in this party atmosphere?
So Adrian found himself going for lighter topics... like recent interesting stuff around the school.
"Enough!" Quirrell finally snapped, his voice cutting through Adrian's rambling. Normally, Quirrell's mild personality would never let him lose control like this, but Adrian seemed completely incapable of normal conversation. Every single topic he brought up was something Quirrell desperately wanted to forget...
The Halloween thing was especially annoying. Originally, Quirrell had thought his fainting at the feast was brilliant acting that would remove any suspicion about releasing the troll, even getting praise from the Dark Lord himself.
But who could have predicted that a first-year student like Adrian would easily kill the troll? Combined with Professor McGonagall's badly timed comments about the creature's power, Quirrell's fainting episode became the talk of the whole school.
Overnight, he'd become Hogwarts' biggest joke. During every class, he could hear whispered theories that his position as Defense Against the Dark Arts professor was some kind of pity hire from Dumbledore.
The worst part was he couldn't defend himself, no matter how frustrating it got, he had to suffer in silence...