They pushed the door open, just a crack. In the center of the vast, dark chamber, the monstrous three-headed dog was lying on the floor, its three heads dozing peacefully while a deep, rumbling snore echoed off the stone walls. Standing beside the beast was Hagrid, who seemed to be gently polishing one of Fluffy's enormous claws.
The soft click of the door latch settling reached the creature's sensitive ears.
In an instant, the snores stopped. Three pairs of glowing yellow eyes snapped open and fixed directly on the crack in the door. A low, menacing growl began deep in the creature's three chests.
Hagrid looked up, confused by Fluffy's sudden agitation. "Now what's got inter yeh, Fluffy?" He followed the dog's furious gaze towards the door, squinting into the darkness. "Who's there?" he boomed.
Caught, Adam and Daphne had no choice. They slowly pushed the door fully open and stepped into the room.
"Adam? An' Miss Greengrass?" Hagrid's jaw dropped. "What in blazes are yeh two doin' here?"
Before either of them could answer, a calm, silken voice drifted out from the deeper shadows behind the giant dog.
"It is alright, Hagrid. Our young explorers mean no harm, I am sure."
Albus Dumbledore stepped gracefully into the faint light, his expression one of serene contemplation. He looked directly at the two stunned first-years.
"To be perfectly honest, Mr. Taylor, Miss Greengrass, I have been expecting both of you to find your way to this corridor eventually," he said, his blue eyes twinkling. "Your continuous exploration and searching of Hogwarts' secrets have been quite noteworthy. So much so, in fact, that I felt it prudent to increase the teachers' rounds in this area."
Adam and Daphne exchanged a look of pure shock. The near-miss with Professor Flitwick hadn't been a matter of bad luck; it had been a direct consequence of their own actions. They weren't nearly as sneaky as they had thought.
"What is a surprise, however," Dumbledore continued, his gaze moving between the two of them, "is finding you here together."
He smiled, a faint, knowing expression that made them feel as though he could see right through them.
"A Gryffindor and a Slytherin, working in tandem," he mused, stroking his long, silver beard. "Not the first time it has happened within these walls, of course, but still a rare and fascinating sight to behold."
The silence in the chamber stretched, thick and heavy, broken only by a soft, confused whine from one of Fluffy's heads. Adam and Daphne stood frozen, utterly exposed under the Headmaster's calm, twinkling gaze. Hagrid looked back and forth between them and Dumbledore, his brow furrowed in bewilderment.
Dumbledore took a slow step forward, his long robes making no sound on the stone floor. He surveyed the two first-years not with anger, but with an expression of thoughtful curiosity.
"It is clear," he began, his voice soft but resonant, "that you are both searching for something of great importance. A commendable passion for the secrets of this old castle."
He paused, his eyes drifting towards the large trapdoor under Fluffy's paw. "However, I must tell you that you are looking in the wrong place. This corridor's protections were constructed just this year, a rather recent addition." He looked directly at Daphne, his gaze gentle but firm. "Whatever ancient trial you are searching for, Miss Greengrass, I can assure you, it is most certainly not here."
The color drained from Daphne's face. All her research, her frustration, her desperate, dangerous plan... had led to a complete dead end. She looked utterly lost, her carefully constructed resolve crumbling into dust.
Dumbledore then turned his full attention to Adam, and the atmosphere in the room shifted. It felt as though they were the only two people there.
"As for you, Mr. Taylor..." Dumbledore said, a knowing, enigmatic look in his eyes. "I assume you already know a great deal about this place, you have been guiding them pretty well."
It wasn't a question. It was a statement. Adam felt the blood run cold in his veins. The carefully guarded wall between his secret knowledge and this world felt suddenly transparent. Dumbledore didn't just suspect him of being a skilled flyer; he suspected something far, far deeper.
Before Adam could even think of a response, Dumbledore gave a gentle, grandfatherly smile, the intense moment breaking like a bubble.
"The hour is late," he said, his tone becoming light and airy once more. "And I believe you have both learned a valuable lesson tonight about the difference between courage and recklessness. How about you do me a favor, Mr.Taylor? Escort Miss Greengrass safely to the entrance of the Slytherin common room, and then head back to your own bed. The castle has had enough excitement for one evening."
He gave them a final, pleasant nod, clearly dismissing them. Adam and Daphne exchanged a wide-eyed look and turned to leave, their minds reeling. But just as they reached the doorway, Daphne stopped. She turned back, her desperation overriding her fear.
"Professor Dumbledore," she said, her voice shaky but determined. "The trial... left by Rowena Ravenclaw. You're certain it's not here?"
Dumbledore turned back to her, his expression softening with something akin to sympathy. "My dear child," he said gently. "Your mother contacted me about this very matter over the summer. If I had any knowledge of such a trial, I would have helped her, and you, long ago. I am afraid that in all my years at this school, I have never come across any mention of it."
Daphne's shoulders slumped, the last bit of hope seeming to drain from her.
"However," Dumbledore added, a thoughtful look in his eyes, "Hogwarts is a place of infinite secrets. If such a trial does exist, I am certain it would be guarded by something far more complex than mere claws and fangs. A challenge of the mind, perhaps, rather than of might."
He then looked past her, his gaze settling once more on Adam. The gentle, grandfatherly demeanor vanished, replaced by an unreadable seriousness.
"And Adam," he said, his voice now quiet and holding a weight that sent a chill down Adam's spine. "I would be expecting you at my office tomorrow afternoon. We have much to discuss."
The statement was not a request. It was a summon.
Without another word, Dumbledore turned his attention back to Hagrid, the matter entirely concluded. Numbly, Adam and Daphne exited the chamber, the heavy door closing behind them. They walked in a heavy, profound silence, the weight of Dumbledore's revelations—and his final, ominous command—pressing down on them both.
They walked in a heavy, profound silence, the weight of Dumbledore's revelations—and his final, ominous command—pressing down on Adam. The moonlit corridors of the castle seemed to stretch on forever, the sleeping portraits and suits of armor their only silent witnesses. When they reached the bottom of the Grand Staircase, their paths were meant to diverge—his up towards Gryffindor Tower, hers down towards the dungeons.
Daphne stopped, turning to him. "You don't have to walk me any further," she said, her voice a low, formal murmur. "It is not necessary."
"I'll see you to the common room entrance," Adam replied, his tone leaving no room for argument. He started walking towards the dungeons, and after a moment's hesitation, she fell into step beside him.
As they walked, his mind was a battlefield. 'I assume you already know a great deal about this place.' Dumbledore's words replayed over and over, a chilling loop of exposure. How could he know? It was impossible. Unless…
Legilimency. The thought sent a jolt of cold, serious fear through him, far greater than facing a three-headed dog. He felt seriously threatened. Dumbledore was the most powerful wizard alive; he could probably read a first-year's mind from across the Great Hall if he truly wished to.
He took a deep, steadying breath, forcing the panic down. No. The System is safe. He knew that for a fact. He remembered his first, brief encounter with Sophie Greengrass over the summer. Daphne's mother had been elegant, charming, and unnervingly perceptive. He had felt the faintest, tickling sensation at the edge of his consciousness, a subtle probe. His mind, guarded by his system had made Mrs. Greengrass's eyes widen in momentary, hidden shock as she saw the empty world of white. It was his first confirmation that his greatest secret, the System itself, was shielded.
But that only protected the System, not his own thoughts and memories. The Spirit Grove where he met fairies... the Room of Requirement where he trained... he thought, his stomach twisting into a knot. His past life... if Dumbledore had looked properly, would he have seen all of it?
He focused on the mental exercises, the techniques from the small, leather-bound book on Occlumency that Sophie Greengrass had discreetly given him after their first meeting. Clear your mind. Build your walls. Visualize an empty space. He had been practicing every night, and he was getting better.
He had been safe, he realized. In that moment with Dumbledore, his mind had been entirely focused on Fluffy, on Daphne, on the immediate danger. He wasn't thinking about fairies or his secret training room. It had been a close call.
But his relief was short-lived. The dread returned, colder than before. Tomorrow afternoon... in his office... Dumbledore won't be distracted. He won't be managing a giant dog. He'll be focused. Entirely on me.
As they descended the stairs towards the dungeons, Adam, lost in his own worries about the impending meeting with Dumbledore, almost didn't notice the change.
But then he heard it: the soft, rhythmic scuff of shoes dragging on the stone floor. He looked over at Daphne.
Her shoulders, which were always held so straight and proud, had started to droop. Her pace had slowed, her feet dragging with a weariness that seemed to go beyond mere physical exhaustion. He had always seen Daphne as a confident, brave, and unshakable girl, but what he saw now surprised him. In the flickering torchlight, he could see that her eyes had teared up, her entire body language radiating a classic, heartbreaking despair.
Adam stopped, forcing her to halt as well.
"Daphne? What's wrong?"
A reply didn't come, not immediately at least. She stood frozen, her gaze fixed on some unseen point in the darkness, completely lost in the devastating weight of Dumbledore's words. Even he doesn't know. The thought echoed in her mind. After all his years, all his knowledge, the greatest wizard in the world has never even heard of the trial. How could I ever hope to find it in the few years I have left? How can I cure my little sister?
An image of Astoria flashed in her mind, so vivid it made her gasp. She saw her sister lying in her bed, growing paler and more lifeless with each passing season. Then the image twisted into something far worse, a vision of Astoria's body contorting, her features shifting into something feral and unrecognizable. Does she have to become some kind of ferocious animal? Is that the future she beholds? The thought sent a violent shiver through her, and the tears she had been holding back finally started to fall, silent tracks on her pale cheeks.
"Daphne," Adam said again, his voice softer this time. He walked up to her and gently put a hand on her shoulder. "Don't cry."
His touch seemed to break her trance. She looked at him, her carefully constructed mask of composure shattered. "Even he doesn't know," she whispered, her voice cracking with hopelessness. "After all his years... How can we possibly find it now?"
Adam didn't say anything at first. He gently took one of her cold hands with both of his, making sure to cover it well, his warmth seeping into her skin. He waited until she looked up at him.
"Dumbledore has never known about this kind of trial because he never had any need to search for the cure to an ancient blood curse," he said, his voice steady and full of a strange, unwavering confidence. "Of course he wouldn't find what he wasn't looking for."
He squeezed her hand gently. "I'm with you, Daphne. Don't worry. I will do my best. We will do our best. We'll find the trial, beat the trial, and get that book to cure Astoria." He leaned in slightly, his eyes intense. "Believe in your resolve. Without it, how will Astoria ever find the courage to live happily? Believe in me. I'll help you find the book. We'll do it together."
His words, full of hope and absolute certainty, were a lifeline in her sea of despair. Daphne stopped crying, her ragged breaths slowly evening out. She just looked into Adam's eyes without blinking, hearing and digesting every word he had said. A few long moments passed by like this in the silent, torch-lit corridor. Adam didn't interrupt her, letting her find her footing.
Soon, she snapped back. She pulled her hand from Adam's warm grasp and abruptly turned her head away, composing herself. In the flickering light, he could see that she had stopped crying. Daphne kept looking elsewhere, at a tapestry on the far wall, as she spoke.
"I was just overwhelmed for a minute there, Taylor," she said, her voice regaining its cool, clipped tone. "I'm not giving up like this. I don't need your consolation."
Saying this, she walked ahead and took a turn at the end of the corridor to reach the entrance to the dungeons, her strides again filled with confidence, her shoulders once more showing off her brave nature.
Adam followed a few paces behind her, a small smile on his face. He could see the faint smile on her lips from the side as she walked.
As Daphne reached the cold, damp stone wall that marked the entrance to the Slytherin common room, she stopped and turned. She had managed to control her smile, but her face was still flared up in a pink blush. Adam noticed it faintly, mistaking it for the aftereffects of her crying just now.
"You can go back now, Taylor," she said, her voice formal once more.
Adam heard the way she talked and thought that she was finally back to her normal self. He nodded. "Goodnight, Daphne," he said, and turned around, starting to walk back towards the main staircases.
He had only taken a couple of steps when he heard her speak once again.
"Thank you... Adam."
This time her voice was softer, and much sweeter than he had ever heard it. It was so different that it made him stop in his tracks. He was surprised by this sudden sweetness and turned around to look at her.
But she was already gone. The corridor was empty, leaving Adam alone in the torchlight, the echo of her quiet, sincere thanks hanging in the air.