Adam rose with the early light, moving through his morning routine with the practiced calm of someone who relished structure and discipline. He had a lot on his mind after the previous night’s events, but he kept his thoughts in check, compartmentalizing his plans and intentions for later. As he sat down for lunch in the Great Hall later in the day, he joined Harry, Ron, and Hermione, who were engaged in a lively debate. Ron was adamant that he wasn’t feeling pressured by the end-of-year exams, despite Hermione’s obvious disapproval.
“Oh, come on, Hermione,” Ron groaned, shoveling a forkful of potatoes into his mouth. “There’s still time, isn’t there? Besides, what’s the harm in little last-minute cramming?”
Last-minute cramming won’t save you,” Hermione shot back, exasperation clear in her voice. After finishing lunch in the Great Hall, they headed outside to take a break on the school grounds.
Before she could launch into a full lecture, Harry’s gaze drifted towards the forest. He spotted Hagrid sitting in front of his hut, a simple flute in hand as he played a soft, lilting tune. The sight seemed to spark something in Harry’s mind.
“Music,” he muttered, looking at Adam with wide eyes. “What you mentioned about calming Fluffy with music.
Without another word, he sprang from where he was standing, dashing toward the Hagrid hut. Adam exchanged a quick glance with Ron and Hermione, who looked equally confused, and they all followed him to Hagrid's place.
"Hagrid!” Harry called, huffing like a horse from the run he’d just made.
“Hello there!” Hagrid said, smiling as he looked up from his work. “What brings yeh out here?”
Harry leaned forward urgently. “Hagrid, who did you get the dragon from?
Hagrid looked a bit flustered, scratching his head. “Now, let me think… Ah, right, right! I won him off a stranger I met down at the pub. Seemed quite friendly, he did. We got talkin’ about all sorts of creatures, he kept buyin’ me drinks... an’ then he just happened to have a dragon’s egg in his pocket. Next thing I knew, I’d won Norbert in a game o’ cards.”
Hermione’s eyes widened. “And did you… did you talk to him about anything else?”
“Well… he did seem right interested in Fluffy,” Hagrid admitted, lowering his voice. “Wanted ter know what sort o’ things would calm him. Course, I told him Fluffy’s a piece o’ cake if yeh just know how ter play a bit o’ music…”
All of them exchanged alarmed glances.
“Hagrid,” Hermione said slowly, “didn’t it seem strange to you? A complete stranger just happened to have a dragon’s egg and wanted to know about Fluffy?”
Hagrid frowned, looking a bit defensive. “Well… maybe, but he was buyin’ me drinks, and it was a rare chance ter get me own dragon. I didn’t think it’d do any harm, just tellin’ him how ter calm Fluffy. Didn’t realize he’d use it fer... well, fer somethin’ dodgy.”
Ron groaned. “Hagrid, that’s exactly what he wanted! He was trying to get past Fluffy!”
Realization dawned on Hagrid’s face, and he looked horrified. “Oh no… yeh don’t think I helped him get in, do yeh?”
Harry nodded grimly. “We think that’s exactly what happened.”
But then, Hagrid said it was maybe just a coincidence and that they were worrying for nothing.
The trio shared alarmed glances, realizing the weight of Hagrid’s words. Harry, who had pieced this together already, maintained his composure but felt the mounting tension as their suspicions took shape.
With the implications clear, they rushed to Professor McGonagall’s office, insisting on seeing Dumbledore. But McGonagall informed them, much to their dismay, that Dumbledore had left for the Ministry early that morning, likely in response to the previous night’s incident.
Adam couldn’t help but think it was somewhat predictable, a moment of irony he found almost amusing. Dumbledore has a knack for being absent at the worst times, he mused internally.
“Professor,” Harry began, his voice wavering with the gravity of their concerns, “we think someone’s trying to steal the Philosopher’s Stone.”
McGonagall’s face tightened, her usual sternness deepening. “This is not a matter for students to concern themselves with,” she said firmly, waving them off. “You are to leave such things to the professors. Now, back to your studies.”
The four walked back into the corridor, but the moment they were out of earshot, they resumed their whispered discussion.
“It’s Snape,” Harry said with absolute certainty, his voice a fierce whisper. “He’s the one after the Stone.”
Ron nodded, his eyes wide. “It has to be him. I mean, who else would be so—”
Adam stayed silent. Defending Snape at this point seemed pointless; it was as if the trio had already made up their minds. He decided to let them think what they wanted, knowing it would lead to the moment they were destined to experience.
Their conversation was abruptly cut short by the arrival of Snape himself, his black eyes narrowing as he caught sight of their huddled conversation.
“What are you four so interested in discussing here in the corridor?” he asked, his voice low and suspicious.
“Nothing, Professor,” Harry replied, his tone far too quick and light.
Snape’s gaze lingered, calculating and dark. After a tense pause, he finally moved past them, a shadow of mistrust trailing in his wake. Once he was out of sight, Harry turned to them with a sense of urgency.
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“We have to enter the trap door tonight. We can’t wait.”
Adam weighed his options quickly, glancing at his friends as they discussed their plan. “I’m not breaking the rules,” he said, shrugging with a small, nonchalant smile. “I’ll be in the dorm tonight.”
Harry, Hermione, and Ron exchanged surprised looks, their expressions quickly shifting to reluctant acceptance. They had grown accustomed to Adam’s cautious side, and though they might not fully understand it, they respected his decision.
As they headed off for the evening, murmuring final details of their plan, Adam was already making his own discreet preparations. He had no intention of missing this, but he needed to approach it his own way—a way that wouldn’t draw as much attention.
Over the past months, Adam had taken the time to form bonds with the castle’s house-elves, learning their names and stories, and often stopping by the kitchens with small tokens of appreciation. The house-elves, in turn, had grown fond of him, especially one particular elf named Mip, who had a special loyalty to the Morgan family. Years ago, Adam’s family had helped secure freedom for Mip’s sister, an act the elf had never forgotten.
Now, in the quiet of the evening, Adam made his way down to the hidden entrance of the kitchens. He tapped gently on the door, waiting until it opened to reveal Mip, whose wide, curious eyes took him in.
“Mip,” Adam whispered, “I need a favor. Could you help me reach a certain chamber? The one with the Mirror of Erised.”
Mip’s eyes widened, a flicker of apprehension crossing his face. Young Master Morgan… that place is not for students. It’s dangerous. Dumbledore forbade anyone from going there.”
Adam knelt down, meeting Mip’s gaze with a reassuring smile. “I know, Mip. But I just need a brief look—it’s important. I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t trust you.” His voice softened. “Please.”
After a few moments of hesitation, Mip gave a reluctant nod, glancing around to make sure they were alone. With a quiet snap of his fingers, the world blurred around Adam, and in a heartbeat, he found himself in the dim, echoing chamber, the massive Mirror of Erised looming before him, bathed in an eerie glow. He tell Mip to come back in few hours
Adam took a steadying breath, feeling the weight of the chamber’s magic pressing down on him. He stepped forward, his footsteps soft on the cold stone floor, and gazed into the mirror. His reflection shifted, and soon he saw himself surrounded by magical creatures of all kinds—phoenixes, unicorns, bowtruckles—each one glowing with life as he nurtured and protected them. The vision was so vivid it felt like he could reach out and touch them. A profound sense of peace washed over him, a reminder of his life’s calling and purpose.
But he couldn’t linger long. He tore his gaze from the vision, clearing his mind as he focused on the task at hand. Recalling a powerful concealment charm he’d studied in one of his family’s restricted spellbooks, Adam whispered the incantation, layering it with a complex illusion charm his grandfather had once mentioned. His entire form blurred and faded, leaving him hidden even from magical detection.
He positioned himself in a shadowed corner, letting the silence settle around him as he waited. He knew that if Harry and Quirrell arrived, he would be unseen, his presence masked by the powerful magic he had woven around himself. His heart beat steadily, a mixture of excitement and purpose filling him as he prepared for whatever might unfold. Tonight, he was a witness—and he had a plan too.
Time passed slowly, and after nearly an hour, he sensed movement. Quirrell had entered, his expression tense and nervous as he muttered to himself, glancing around the room. Adam held his breath, maintaining his invisibility. Soon, Harry arrived, and the confrontation began.
Adam watched, fascinated, as Quirrell urged Harry toward the mirror, forcing him to “look” and retrieve the Stone. But as Harry resisted, the situation escalated, revealing Voldemort’s weak but terrifying presence, urging Quirrell on with ruthless insistence. Adam’s stomach tightened as he watched Harry’s bravery in the face of such dark magic, but he kept his resolve to remain hidden.
Harry’s desperation drove him to reach for the Stone, and the mirror responded, delivering it into his pocket. But when Quirrell tried to take it from him, Harry’s touch began to burn the professor’s skin. The room filled with the sound of Voldemort’s furious screams as Quirrell writhed in agony, his body crumbling under the sheer force of Harry’s strange protection. Voldemort’s wraith-like form erupted from Quirrell in a scream, swirling through the room before vanishing with a final, haunting cry.
As the dust settled and silence returned to the chamber, Adam watched Harry slump to the ground, unconscious. He waited, his heart pounding in his chest, scanning the dimly lit room for any lingering traces of danger. Only once he was certain the immediate threat had passed did he release his concealment charm and move swiftly to Harry’s side, gently checking his pulse. It was strong—Harry had only fainted.
Relief washed over Adam as his gaze fell upon the Philosopher’s Stone lying beside Harry. He carefully picked it up, feeling the legendary artifact’s strange warmth and weight in his palm. Here was a piece of magical history, a Stone of extraordinary power that could turn any metal into pure gold and even grant eternal life. For a brief moment, Adam marveled at the Stone’s allure, captivated by its untold possibilities. He knew, though, that Dumbledore intended to destroy it—a precaution to prevent such immense power from falling into the wrong hands. And yet, to simply erase something so unique, so irreplaceable, felt like a loss beyond measure.
A sense of purpose overtook him, and he reached into his pocket, pulling out a replica he’d ordered over winter—a carefully crafted stone, carved and charmed to resemble the real Philosopher’s Stone. He had prepared it with an inkling that the time might come when he’d need to protect the true Stone. Setting it down beside Harry, he cast an Exploding Charm with practiced precision. The replica shattered, its fragments scattering around Harry in a small, shimmering burst of dust. To anyone else, it would appear as though the Stone had been destroyed in the heat of the struggle.
Satisfied with the same, Adam pocketed the true Philosopher’s Stone, feeling its weight in his hand once more before slipping it into a magically expanded pouch. Calling upon the loyal house-elf who appears after sometime, he felt a rush of gratitude as the elf quickly Apparated him back to the dormitory.
Once safely in his room, Adam exhaled, feeling the exhaustion finally settle over him. He see Seraphina, his owl as she watched him with bright, perceptive eyes and petted her. He let himself sink into his bed, the events of the night playing over in his mind.
In the quiet, just before sleep claimed him, he pondered the future, knowing he now held something that could alter the course of history—and perhaps, one day, use its power for the good he believed in.
The next morning, rumors buzzed through the school about Harry’s harrowing encounter. Curious students whispered in hallways, and even the professors seemed more tense than usual. Adam made his way to the hospital wing, where Ron and Hermione were keeping vigil over Harry, who was still asleep.
“Are you two alright?” Adam asked as he joined them, noticing they looked a bit worse for wear.
“We’re fine,” Ron replied, wincing slightly. “We got through most of the challenges, but… well, Harry did the rest.”
They recounted their journey through the traps, speculating about the final confrontation Harry must have had with Voldemort.
Finally, they left Harry to rest, but before that, Ron pocketed the chocolate frog.
When Harry finally awoke later that day, he shared his experience with Adam and Duo, mentioning Dumbledore’s comforting words. Dumbledore had assured him that the Stone had been destroyed and that Voldemort’s plans were thwarted, at least for now.
Adam nodded, his expression calm, though he couldn’t help the small smile tugging at his lips. Dumbledore might suspect something, he thought, but the truth remains safe with me. No one will know I have it.