During his free period, Adrian made his way down to the dungeons. The corridors here were cooler than the rest of the castle carrying a faint smell of various potion ingredients that had seeped into the walls over centuries of use.
The Slytherin common room and dormitories were down here somewhere, along with Snape's classroom and his private office.
He found Snape in his office, as expected, reviewing what appeared to be student essays with his typical expression of disgust.
Several essays had already been marked in slashing red ink, comments like "Abysmal understanding of basic principles" and "See me immediately about this catastrophic failure" were visible even from Adrian's position at the door.
Snape looked up as Adrian knocked, his dark eyes were taking in Adrian's appearance with a single sharp, assessing glance. He set down his quill.
"Westeros," Snape said coldly. "I wondered when you would come."
"You knew I would?" Adrian asked, entering the office and closing the door behind him to ensure their conversation remained private.
"The centaurs' prophecy was hardly subtle," Snape said, leaning back in his chair like someone who had been expecting this conversation.
"Tomorrow is when 'night has fallen and departed thrice' since the warning was delivered. Elementary arithmetic says that tomorrow is when the danger will arrive." His dark eyes observed Adrian with uncomfortable intensity. "You're planning something monumentally foolish."
It wasn't a question, but Adrian answered anyway. "I'm planning to face Voldemort tomorrow night. He's probably going to attack something I have, and I intend to stop him."
"Alone," Snape stated flatly, his tone making clear what he thought of that plan.
"Yes."
"Stubbornness," Snape said, then paused slightly.
Adrian didn't explain about the Tree of Wisdom or related things.
Instead, he changed the subject slightly. "I came to ask about Voldemort's weaknesses. You ser…. Errr….. knew him for years before your defection. What can you tell me that might give me an advantage tomorrow night?"
Snape was quiet for a moment, his gaze was becoming distant as he accessed memories that were clearly unpleasant to revisit.
Finally, he stood and moved to a cabinet in the corner of his office, pulling out a dusty bottle of what appeared to be very old firewhiskey.
He poured two glasses without asking if Adrian wanted one, then handed one of the glasses to Adrian before taking a sip from his own.
"The Dark Lord's greatest weakness," Snape began slowly, "is his extraordinary arrogance. He cannot conceive of anyone being his equal, let alone his superior. This arrogance makes him underestimate opponents, makes him dismiss threats that don't fit his worldview of his own supremacy."
"I'm not sure that helps me very much," Adrian said with a slightly dry tone. "Arrogance aside, he's still one of the most powerful dark wizards who ever lived."
"But power isn't everything in combat especially when he himself is weakened," Snape countered, his voice took on the lecturing tone he sometimes used when making a point he considered particularly important.
"The Dark Lord relies heavily on fear and intimidation. He expects his opponents to be terrified, to make mistakes born from panic and desperation. His entire approach to combat is built around the assumption that his enemies will be too frightened to think clearly.
If you can remain calm, if you can continue to think strategically despite the fear and make no mistake, you will be afraid—then you'll already be performing better than ninety percent of the wizards who've faced him and fallen."
Adrian absorbed this information, thinking about what it meant for tomorrow's confrontation. "What else? What other weaknesses does he have?"
"He has obsessions," Snape continued thoughtfully, swirling the firewhiskey in his glass as he spoke.
"With immortality above all else, but also with power, with proving himself superior to all other wizards past and present, with demonstrating that he has transcended the limitations that bind lesser magical beings. These obsessions drive him to take risks he might otherwise avoid, to pursue opportunities he might otherwise view with more caution.
If you can exploit those obsessions, if you can make what you're protecting seem like the key to everything he desires most then he may become reckless in his attempt to obtain it."
"So, I dangle the prize in front of him and wait for him to make a mistake in his eagerness," Adrian summarized.
"Essentially, yes," Snape agreed. "Though you must understand—the mistakes he makes will be subtle ones. He's not a fool, despite his obsessions. But obsession creates blind spots, makes people miss details they would otherwise notice, makes them discount risks they would usually take seriously."
Snape set down his glass and observed Adrian with an expression that might have been concern, though it was difficult to tell with certainty.
"But Westeros, you must understand something crucial—the Dark Lord is not merely powerful. He's extraordinarily cunning, with decades of experience in combat and manipulation. He's absolutely ruthless, willing to do anything to achieve his goals, entirely unconstrained by morality or conscience.
He will use any advantage he can identify, will exploit any weakness he discovers, and will show no mercy at all. If you hesitate even for a moment, if you show him any opening at all, he will kill you without a second thought."
"I understand the risks," Adrian said softly.
"Do you?" Snape's voice became sharper. "Because you have certain tendencies—toward nobility, toward unnecessary self-sacrifice. The Dark Lord will recognize these tendencies. He'll use them against you. He'll threaten innocents if he can find them. He'll manipulate and deceive in ways you probably haven't even considered.
Can you match that ruthlessness when necessary? Can you be willing to make the hard choices, the cold calculations, even when they go against your natural instincts?"
Adrian met Snape's eyes steadily, feeling the slight concern beneath the harsh words. "If it means protecting what I care about? If it means stopping him from obtaining power that would make him truly unstoppable? Yes. I can be as ruthless as necessary when the stakes demand it."
Something flickered across Snape's expression. "Then you might actually survive this foolish endeavor."
He turned to his desk and picked up a sealed envelope.
"This contains intelligence on the Dark Lord's current capabilities based on my observations and knowledge from my years serving him. Defensive strategies that might work against his preferred attack patterns. Likely tactical approaches he favors in different scenarios. Weaknesses in his dueling style that most people never survive long enough to exploit. It may prove useful."
Adrian took the envelope with genuine surprise and gratitude. "Thank you, Severus. This means—"
"Don't thank me," Snape interrupted dismissively. "Just try not to die stupidly. It would be extraordinarily inconvenient to need to find and train a new Care of Magical Creatures professor in the middle of the academic year. Even Merlin knows Hagrid should not be the one to handle a class."
"I'll remember. Thank you." Adrian said softly and turned to leave.
His next destination was the library, where he found Hermione exactly where he'd expected surrounded by her usual towers of books, her wild hair was pulled back in a somewhat ineffective attempt at control, her quill was moving rapidly across parchment as she took detailed notes from multiple sources simultaneously.
Ron sat beside her, looking considerably less engaged with the research materials and was staring bankly at nowhere seemingly lost in thought.
"Miss Granger, Mr. Weasley," Adrian said softly as he approached their table, not wanting to startle them or draw attention from other students in the library.
Ron immediately dropped his head and tried to look engaged with the books in front of him. Hermione looked up from her notes with an expression that mixed hope and unease.
"Professor Westeros," she said with desperate optimism. "Have you found something? A way to help Harry?"
Adrian pulled out a chair and sat down across from them, keeping his voice low so other students working nearby wouldn't overhear their conversation. "I believe I have, yes. But before we discuss that, I need you both to do something for me. Something important."
"Anything," Hermione said immediately, leaning forward with eager attention.
Ron nodded agreement; his expression was unusually serious. "Whatever you need, Professor."
"Tomorrow," Adrian said, choosing his words carefully, "I need you both to stay in the castle. Don't leave Hogwarts grounds for any reason. Stay where there are other people around, where there are professors who can help if something goes wrong. Promise me you'll do that."
Ron frowned, clearly confused. "Why? What's happening tomorrow?"
Adrian explained, still keeping his voice quiet. "The danger centaurs' warned about will arrive tomorrow night, and I need to know that you two are safe while I deal with it."
Hermione's eyes widened as she understood, her brilliant was mind making connections rapidly. "You're going to fight Voldemort tomorrow night. That's what this is about, isn't it? That's why you've been so preoccupied lately, why you've seemed distracted in classes, why you've been running around. You're planning to face him."
Adrian didn't directly confirm or deny this, instead said carefully, "I'm going to do what's necessary to protect what needs protecting. And I need to know you're both safe while I'm doing it."
"Then we should help!" Ron said, his voice was rising slightly before Hermione quickly shushed him with a sharp gesture.
In a quieter but no less urgent tone, he continued, "You can't face You-Know-Who alone, Professor. That's complete madness. That's suicide."
"Ron's absolutely right," Hermione added with fierce intensity. "You need help. You need backup. We could get Professor Dumbledore and the Order of the Phoenix, or we could—"
"No," Adrian interrupted. "This is something I have to do alone. Having others involved would make the situation more dangerous, not less dangerous. But I need you both to understand something very important."
He pulled the sealed letter addressed to Harry from his robes and placed it on the table between them. Both students stared at it like it was something dangerous.
"This letter is for Harry," Adrian explained. "If something goes wrong tomorrow night, I need you to give this to him when he wakes up. It contains information he needs to know, explanations that he deserves to have. Can you do that for me?"
Hermione stared at the sealed letter with growing horror, her eyes were becoming bright with unshed tears. "Professor, you're scaring me. This sounds like you don't think you're coming back."
"I'm preparing for all possibilities," Adrian said honestly.
"I intend to survive. I'm going to do everything in my power to win tomorrow night and come back safely. But I also have to be realistic about the dangers involved. Voldemort is one of the most powerful dark wizards who ever lived, and facing him carries significant risks. I need to know that if the worst happens, Harry will get the answers he deserves."
"You will come back though, right?" Ron asked. He looked genuinely frightened. "You have to come back."
The simple sincerity of the statement made Adrian's chest tighten with emotion he had to consciously suppress.
"I intend to do my very best to survive," he promised. "I've prepared as thoroughly as I possibly can. My chances are better than you might think."
Hermione carefully picked up the sealed letter, handling it like something fragile and precious.
"I'll keep it safe," she promised quietly. "And I'll give it to Harry if... if you don't come back for a month. But you will come back. You have to."
"There's one more thing I need to tell you, Hermione," Adrian said, focusing his attention on the brilliant young witch.
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