The sudden sensation in his mind—a disorienting mix of vulnerability, ease, and cognitive dulling just before the voice appeared—left Adrian momentarily stunned. It felt as though his thoughts had been laid bare, scanned thoroughly by the unexpected system that had just intruded into his consciousness. There was a fleeting, almost physical sensation of being completely exposed—as though his occlumency shields had dropped without warning.
But beneath the tangle of shock and suspicion, the curious warmth of the voice calmed him. As the system's message faded, Adrian looked around, carefully observing the others: no one else had noticed.
They didn't hear it, he concluded silently.
"Please note: Your first task has been issued—win the grand prize in the Quidditch Boutique event," the system intoned. Though a bit robotic in cadence, the voice had a strangely soothing, incorporeal quality, almost like a well-cast Sonorus charm echoing inside his head.
Adrian's skepticism kicked in, pushing past the initial wonder.
"What happens if I fail the task?" he asked mentally, keeping his expression neutral.
"Penalty: If the host fails, the system will terminate all services. There will be no additional consequences."
"So… no fire and brimstone? No losing a finger or being hexed into a slug?" Adrian muttered inwardly, half-joking. Still, the threat of system withdrawal, however gentle, worked—it sharpened his focus instantly.
"To aid in the host's adaptation to the 'Xueba Wizard System', a Novice Gift Pack has been granted. The items are stored in the host's personal storage space. No further action is needed."
"How do I open the storage space?"
No sooner had he thought it, than something shifted in his awareness—a tug at the edges of his magical perception. A space unfolded in his mind like the unfurling of a Wizarding Tent with an Undetectable Extension Charm—dimensional, pocketed, and quietly thrumming with enchanted energy.
Inside were three objects:
A scroll of ancient-looking parchment tied with a red cord
A folded, high-quality wizarding robe, midnight blue with subtle silver runes embroidered at the cuffs
A hardbound book, thick and embossed with both Latin and runes, its spine labeled: "Fundamentals of Magical Theory: Arithmancy, Spells, and Magical Creatures – Combined Edition"
Adrian reached mentally for the scroll first. As he focused, the red ribbon unraveled of its own accord, the parchment rolling open with a rustle.
Written in elegant script were the words:
"Halo of the Academic Star – Duration: 15 Minutes"
*Effect: When activated with a preselected duration, the host gains temporarily enhanced magical aptitude, exceptional logical clarity, an increased affinity for spellcasting and magical resonance, and partial access to the recorded knowledge of three ancient magical libraries—Alexandria, Nurmengard, and The Great Arithmancer's Vault.
Adrian blinked. This… is ridiculous. It was the kind of thing one could only dream of—a concentrated, temporary Ravenclaw brain boost, tailor-made to ace magical exams or, in this case, a contest built to confuse typical wizarding logic.
"Use the aura for three minutes." Adrian activated the scroll with a mental command.
The effect was immediate and electric.
His mind surged with luminous clarity—facts, spells, historical context, obscure magical theory, all slotted themselves into a new lattice in his brain. It tingled, like he'd downed a Pepperup Potion laced with Felix Felicis. And yet it wasn't luck—it was focused, deliberate brilliance. As if he had Ravenclaw's diadem resting invisibly on his head.
"Ready?" the clerk at the Quidditch Boutique prompted again.
Adrian didn't wait. "Let's begin."
The parchment shimmered and presented the first trivia riddle:
"What is the incantation for the Fire-Making Spell?"
Adrian answered without pause. "Incendio."
A few gasps came from the children around him—Ron included. Many hadn't even opened their spellbooks yet.
"When Jupiter and Venus align in the night sky, what does it traditionally signify in Divination?"
Adrian's voice was calm, confident. "The union of opportunity and desire—usually interpreted as the opening of a favorable magical opportunity, particularly in love charms or ambition-related potions."
The clerk raised an eyebrow in surprise.
"What is the full name of Rowena Ravenclaw's daughter?"
Easy. "Helena Ravenclaw, later known as The Grey Lady, ghost of Ravenclaw House."
"Correct. Proceeding to advanced round…"
Each question was harder than the last, moving from charms and planetary alignments into historical wizarding lineages, goblin rebellions, and ancient Arithmantic symbols. Adrian responded without hesitation—his eyes glazed not from confusion, but from the sheer speed with which he was processing information.
He heard whispers ripple through the crowd.
"Is he a second-year?"
"No—he's not even in school yet!"
"He's got to be Ravenclaw."
Even Draco Malfoy was watching now, frowning deeply, arms crossed, and clearly calculating.
As Adrian faced the next round, he felt the aura's potency starting to ebb—he had maybe thirty seconds left.
He took a deep breath and prepared to answer the next question.
"What are the three core ingredients required in brewing Veritaserum, the Truth Potion?"
"Jobberknoll feathers, fluxweed harvested at the full moon, and valerian root."
"Correct. Final question to win grand prize: In the creation of an unregistered Portkey, what two counter-charms are needed to conceal the magical trace?"
Adrian answered with absolute certainty. "Muffliato to obscure surrounding incantations and Obscuro to cloud magical detection signatures."
The scroll disappeared. The clerk clapped once and summoned the grand prize from behind the counter: a limited-edition Nimbus 2000 collector's model, enchanted to float and circle the room on command, complete with display stand and magical signature from Ludo Bagman.
"You earned this," the clerk said, handing it to Adrian. "And whatever house you end up in, they're getting a champion."
Ron whooped and smacked Adrian on the shoulder. "You're going to be more famous than Harry Potter at this rate!"
Adrian smiled, but inwardly, he was already wondering what else the Xueba Wizard System might ask of him next.
Because something told him—this was only the beginning.
Thirty challenging topics—ranging from History of Magic, Astronomy, Arithmancy, to obscure Ancient Runes—were answered fluently by Adrian within minutes. Remarkably, he performed even better on the questions involving ancient magical theory—some rooted in pre-Hogwarts era traditions—than on those concerning modern wizarding history or everyday spellwork.
This seamless rhythm in his answers left the surrounding crowd utterly stunned.
Ron Weasley, standing nearby, had turned a vibrant shade of red—not just in his face, but all the way to the tips of his ears. His freckled cheeks were flushed with excitement as he watched his new friend outshine older students and even adults.
"Congratulations! You've earned the grand prize—a limited-edition, star-enchanted broomstick: the Neptune!"
The clerk waved his wand, and out floated a mysterious, silvery broom glimmering faintly like moonlight on water. It had a graceful build, sleek and almost otherworldly in its craftsmanship, adorned with intricate celestial patterns and constellation etchings that shimmered with a magical glow.
Although Adrian had only held a real broom once before—his elder brother Albert's hand-me-down Cleansweep model—he could tell immediately that this prize was of a completely different caliber. Even without flying it, he could see from the fine etching of magical sea creatures along the shaft and the sleek Kraken-tentacle curvature of the tail twigs that this broom was no ordinary toy.
The handle, made of polished driftwood from the Black Lake's hidden groves, was bound in soft, enchanted lambskin grip leather, designed to warm at the touch and mold comfortably to the owner's hand.
"This is the top broom in the current wizarding world," the clerk said reverently. "A conceptual prototype—not commercially available, and several leagues above even the Firebolt series in magical responsiveness. Designed with both Quidditch and spell-channeling in mind."
"Adrian, mate—can I… can I just hold it?" Ron stammered, practically shaking with awe.
"Sure, go ahead," Adrian said with a smile, tossing it gently toward him.
Ron flailed to catch the broom, nearly fumbling it in his eagerness, and then cradled it like a newborn hippogriff. "This… this is a treasure, a real treasure…"
"Ron," Adrian muttered awkwardly, glancing at nearby onlookers, "If you can stop talking like that, I'll even let you test-ride it later…"
Embarrassed by Ron's over-the-top adoration, Adrian took a few steps away and turned to the clerk. "Could you send word to Mr. Owen Harris at the Leaky Cauldron? He's my father. I think he should come here for this."
"Certainly, young master," the clerk replied with newfound respect. "Happy to assist a wizard of your caliber."
He whispered to another staff member—a wiry, spry wizard with long arms and quick feet, who immediately darted toward the pub entrance with all the speed of a Niffler on the scent of gold.
Ron was still reverently stroking the broom—murmuring to it like a lovestruck Hufflepuff—when Owen Harris and Arthur Weasley arrived together, clearly summoned mid-discussion. Both were wide-eyed, and Arthur wore a look of mingled curiosity and parental panic at what Ron had likely been getting into.
The clerk gestured animatedly, explaining the rules of the contest and detailing Adrian's flawless performance. He occasionally glanced toward Adrian with genuine awe, as though unsure whether he'd just watched a child or a disguised adult master in action.
"Merlin's beard, I don't believe it," Owen Harris muttered, staring at his son. "Adrian, what on earth…?"
"Owen, you've got a remarkable boy there," Arthur added, eyes still flicking from Adrian to the shimmering broom in Ron's clutches. "Ron, we'll be handing that back to Adrian soon—it's time to head home."
Though his tone was gentle, Arthur looked a little flustered. Raising seven children—including the notorious Fred and George—had taught him to recognize danger signs, and Ron clutching an enchanted broom like it was a Horcrux was definitely one.
"You've got more than a few impressive kids yourself," Owen replied absentmindedly, but his eyes were still fixed on Adrian. "But you, son—I didn't know you had this kind of talent in you."
Adrian hesitated. He could already feel a headache forming as he imagined what he'd have to explain once they got home. The system, the sudden intelligence boost, the academic aura… how could I even begin?
After all, the original Adrian—before he'd been reborn into this body—had always been considered average at best. Quiet. Observant. A little frugal. But certainly not gifted.
"Father… maybe we should talk more once we're home." Adrian offered a sheepish smile, trying to stall for time as he began to mentally prepare for what came next.
Because from this moment on, he knew nothing would be simple again.