It was too late to escape. George and Fred spotted Adrian and rushed over the moment they saw him.
What caught Adrian off guard was that the Weasley brothers didn't seem angry at all. Instead, George excitedly gestured in front of him, his massively swollen tongue hanging out.
"Mmph! Mmmmph mmph!" George attempted to speak, producing nothing but muffled sounds.
"Sorry about the Fat-Tongue Toffees," Adrian said, pulling out his wand. "They were meant as a joke. Want me to fix that for you?"
"No need! This gift is brilliant!" Fred shook his head quickly. His condition was slightly better than George's, and though his words were slurred, Adrian could understand him.
George couldn't speak at all, so he used his wand to write glowing words in the air: We knew what they did when we got them.
"Then why did you eat them?" Adrian asked, puzzled.
"Of course we had to try something this interesting," Fred grinned, his enlarged tongue making him lisp slightly. "Plus, it got us out of History of Magic."
The swollen tongues didn't seem to bother the Weasley brothers at all. If anything, they appeared to be enjoying themselves.
George's wand traced more words in the air with practiced ease: Fat-Tongue Toffees? Perfect name. We want to make these one of our flagship products. Best decision ever, making you our special consultant!
"By the way, Adrian," Fred said, "did you get our gift?"
Adrian pulled two circular, irregular objects from his robes. He'd used a Shrinking Charm to make them thumb-sized for easier carrying.
"I haven't figured out how to use them yet," Adrian admitted. "What exactly did you put in these?"
"Those are Dungbombs," Fred said with a sly smile, though his swollen tongue made him sound ridiculous. "New and improved. Just throw them at someone you don't like. They'll explode on impact and the smell lasts at least a full day."
Adrian nearly dropped the Dungbombs, imagining the worst about their contents and the brothers' collection methods.
"It's not what you're thinking!" Fred quickly interrupted, seeing Adrian's horrified expression. "That would be disgusting! The smell comes from a mixture of stink grass, but it smells just like the real thing."
Adrian relaxed slightly, but then George's wand began writing again: Besides, using the genuine article would be too much work. Fred and I thought about collecting animal droppings, but after several days we barely had enough for one bomb. When we mass produce these, we'd never have enough raw materials. Can't spend all day collecting that stuff from the animal pens.
Fred shot George a murderous look. Did he have to reveal their embarrassing research methods?
"Anyway," Fred said, patting Adrian's shoulder, "you're our first customer. We're waiting for you to test them and tell us what needs improvement."
Adrian nodded absently. He couldn't think of anyone who currently deserved a Dungbomb to the face, but he'd keep them handy just in case.
Over the next few days, Adrian visited Hagrid's hut almost daily to check on the dragon egg's progress. He spent the rest of his time in the library, occasionally checking on his potion brewing in the Room of Requirement, or getting dragged away by the Weasley twins to help develop new prank products.
With Hermione as his study partner, Adrian's learning efficiency had improved dramatically even in normal mode. This improvement was why he could afford to activate his studyexperience card immediately after seeing Dumbledore.
During this time, Adrian had roughly figured out the system's skill classifications based on observation and comparison.
Level 1 represented beginners who could cast basic spells. Most first and second-year Hogwarts students operated at this level.
For older students, Adrian had watched George and Fred cast spells, and most of their magic registered around Level 2.
Despite their constant focus on pranks and chaos, the Weasley brothers were actually quite skilled. They'd both snuck into the Restricted Section multiple times and had secretly learned advanced magic there.
Adrian's only Level 3 spell was Transfiguration, which he'd used while developing magical items with the twins. George and Fred had been shocked, saying he could already pass his N.E.W.T. Transfiguration exam.
From this, Adrian concluded that Level 3 represented graduate-level magic.
As for Level 4 spells, he had no reference point for comparison yet.
The one disappointment over the past few days was that his plan for nightly study sessions in the Restricted Section had been forced to stop. Harry kept sneaking out at night wearing his invisibility cloak.
Adrian had quickly guessed that Harry was searching for the Mirror of Erised.
Dumbledore had mentioned moving the mirror somewhere else when they were in his office. Harry, desperate to see his parents again, obviously wouldn't give up looking for it.
So Adrian was stuck lying in bed at night, unable to go anywhere, hoping Dumbledore would soon provide the boy with some much-needed counseling.
This routine lasted three days until a letter arrived from Hagrid saying the dragon was about to hatch.
After classes ended, Adrian hurried to bypass the crowds, joining Harry, Ron, and Hermione, who had been convinced to come along.
After all, who wouldn't be interested in watching a baby dragon hatch?
In a remote corridor corner, Adrian unexpectedly witnessed poor, trembling Quirrell being cornered and interrogated by Snape.
"You'd better be honest," Snape snarled. "What were you doing trying to sneak into my potion stores? Who put you up to this? Dittany... Aconite... Are you injured? Or is someone else? Are you trying to brew Polyjuice Potion to figure out how to get past the other professors' protections?"
"I'm not... I don't... I didn't do anything..." Quirrell's eyes were wide with terror, his head shaking frantically. He'd heard about the theft from Snape's storage room too!
But what did Snape's stolen potions have to do with Quirrell?