Adam woke early, the golden rays of the morning sun casting warm light across his room. After freshening up, he turned to Seraphina, his loyal screech owl, who was already perched on her stand. Her feathers glimmered in the light as she tilted her head toward him, hooting softly. Adam gently stroked her feathers, setting fresh treats in her dish.

Dressed and ready, Adam left his room, walking through the familiar corridors of Morgan Castle. The portraits lining the walls were as lively as ever.

“Young Adam! Off to cause mischief or brilliance today?” asked an old warlock portrait, stroking his ghostly beard.

“Hopefully a bit of both,” Adam quipped with a grin, earning a chuckle.

He politely excused himself from further conversations, eventually reaching the room where he used to take lessons with his mother. The morning sunlight poured through tall windows, casting a soft glow on the elegant furnishings. Ariadne sat by a window, sipping her tea and glancing out over the sprawling garden. She turned as Adam entered, her sharp eyes warming at the sight of him.

“Good morning, Mother,” Adam greeted, taking a seat across from her.

Ariadne raised an eyebrow, setting her cup down gracefully. “You’re up early. Perhaps you’ve come to your senses and realized the value of a mother’s teachings?”

Adam smiled wryly. “I was wondering how long you planned to keep teaching me during the holidays.”

Her lips curled into a teasing smile. “I was considering dropping your lessons, but after what I’ve heard about your adventures at school…” She leaned forward slightly. “You’ve done well, Adam, but there’s still much to learn. Your instincts are good, but raw. Shall we refine them?”

Knowing better than to argue, Adam sighed with feigned exasperation. “As you wish, Mother.”

Ariadne rose gracefully, moving to a clear space in the room. “Let’s begin with your Occlumency. Ready yourself.”

Adam closed his eyes, centering his thoughts as his mother initiated her Legilimency. Her mental presence was formidable, pressing against his mind like a wave seeking cracks in a dam. Over the past year, Adam had honed his mental shields, turning his thoughts into a labyrinth of memories and decoys.

Ariadne navigated through the first few layers with ease, unraveling surface thoughts and probing deeper. But then she encountered resistance—a wall so intricate and well-fortified that even her skill couldn’t breach it. She withdrew, her expression a mixture of surprise and pride.

“You’ve come a long way,” she said, her voice tinged with admiration. “A year ago, I could have unraveled every layer of your mind. Now… it’s as if you’ve built a fortress.”

Adam smiled modestly. “I have good teacher you know.”

Her gaze softened for a moment before she shifted back to a professional tone. “Today, we’ll focus on defensive charms.”

For the next two hours, Ariadne put him through a rigorous session of spellwork. She demonstrated advanced defensive charms, each more intricate than the last. Adam’s wand movements grew sharper, his incantations more precise, as he absorbed her teachings.

“Remember,” Ariadne said, circling him as he practiced. “A duel isn’t just about power—it’s about control. Control your magic, your focus, your emotions. The one who panics first, loses.”

Adam nodded, internalizing her words. By the end of the session, he was both exhausted and exhilarated. His mother’s exacting standards pushed him to his limits, but he knew these lessons were invaluable.

As she dismissed him, Ariadne touched his head briefly, her voice softening. “You’re growing into someone remarkable, Adam. I’m proud of you.”

The rare compliment warmed him more than he let on. “Thank you, Mother. I’ll do my best not to disappoint.”

She smiled knowingly. “You won’t.”

The rest of the morning passed quietly, with Adam retreating to the family library—a grand room filled with towering bookshelves and the faint scent of parchment and leather. He carefully selected a few tomes on magical creatures, intrigued by sections on lesser-documented species. Time seemed to melt away as he pored over illustrations and descriptions, scribbling notes in a small journal he kept for his studies.

By late afternoon, Adam ventured into the garden, where the lush greenery thrived under enchantments that ensured perpetual bloom. He visited Ember first, his fire crab, who resided in a specially charmed enclosure to contain her fiery nature. She clicked her claws energetically as Adam fed her chunks of enchanted rock, her eyes gleaming with delight.

“You’re feisty today,” Adam remarked, watching her burrow back into her heated habitat.

Deeper into the garden, Adam found Twiggle, the grumpy bowtruckle, lounging among the branches of his favorite tree. As Adam approached, Twiggle fixed him with a stern glare and folded his twiggy arms.

“Come on, Twiggle, don’t be like that,” Adam said, holding out a handful of insects he’d gathered from the ground—a mix of tiny creatures Twiggle loved to eat.

Twiggle hesitated, his small eyes narrowing, but eventually, he snatched the offering and retreated to his resting spot high in the tree to eat. Though his expression remained aloof, Adam could tell the gesture had softened him.

“See? I’m not so bad,” Adam said with a grin, earning a faintly exasperated sound from the bowtruckle.

He also spotted Hoarder, the mischievous niffler, prowling around his mother’s collection of shiny trinkets, clearly plotting to snatch a few. Before any chaos could ensue, Adam swiftly scooped him up, gently scolding the little troublemaker. To distract him, Adam handed over a few shiny coins, which Hoarder eagerly accepted. With a gleeful chirp, the niffler scurried off to his burrow, ready to stash away his new treasures.

Before dinner, Adam indulged in one of his favorite pastimes: exploring the castle. He wandered the halls, knocking on walls and testing corners for any hint of hidden rooms or secret passages. The castle was vast and ancient, brimming with enchantments that whispered of mystery and adventure.

Yet every time he thought he was on the verge of a discovery, Wimble appeared out of thin air, his arms crossed and his expression disapproving.

“Master Adam,” the house-elf said, his voice firm yet respectful, “it is not proper to meddle with the old magic of this house without permission.”

Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel.

“Wimble, I’m just looking,” Adam replied, feigning innocence.

The elf’s knowing gaze was unyielding. “Looking often leads to finding, and finding often leads to trouble.”

Adam sighed in defeat. “All right, all right. You win this time.”

After having dinner in his room, Adam decided to pay a visit to his older brother, Lucian. The door to Lucian’s room was slightly ajar, and Adam peered inside to see his brother hunched over a desk piled high with maps, parchments, and open books. The soft glow of a nearby lamp illuminated Lucian’s sharp features as he studied his work.

Lucian looked up as Adam entered, raising an eyebrow. “What brings you here, little brother? Done getting scolded by Wimble for the day?”

Adam smirked, taking a seat on the edge of the desk. “I wanted to ask if Dumbledore suspects anything after what happened at forbidden forest.”

Lucian leaned back in his chair, steepling his fingers as he considered. “Not yet. If he does, he hasn’t shown it. He’s sharp, though, and he knows how to bide his time. Why? Are you worried he might connect the dots?”

Adam hesitated before answering. “A little. But it’s not just Dumbledore I’m curious about.” He leaned forward slightly, lowering his voice. “Do you have any idea where the Dark Lord might be hiding? I mean, knowing what his next plan is would be ideal… but I still want to figure out where he’s lurking for now.”

Lucian’s expression turned serious. “No. If I did, I’d act on it. After Harry destroyed his vessel, Dark Lord's movements have been nearly impossible to track. But he’s out there, somewhere. If you hear or see anything unusual, you need to tell me immediately.”

“I will,” Adam assured him. “I’ve been keeping an eye on things. So far, it’s been quiet… too quiet.”

Lucian nodded, satisfied with the answer. “Good. Stay vigilant, Adam. You’ve proven capable, but the world we’re dealing with is far more dangerous than you’ve seen so far.”

Adam absorbed his brother’s words, understanding the weight behind them. “I will. Thanks, Big brother.”

“Don’t mention it,” Lucian said, a faint smile breaking his stern demeanor. “Now, get some rest. You’ve got a long summer ahead.”

The days leading up to Adam’s birthday were a perfect blend of routine and excitement. Morning lessons with his mother had become a welcome challenge as she introduced him to increasingly advanced magical theories and spells. Her praise, though rare and understated, filled Adam with pride each time he managed to master a particularly difficult concept.

Afternoons were often spent in the gardens or the library, and his evenings belonged to his magical companions. Glimmer, his mischievous niffler, had taken to hiding her young ones in unexpected places, keeping Adam on his toes as he searched the garden for them. Each discovery ended with Glimmer proudly reclaiming her brood, chittering as if to remind him that her antics were all in good fun.

When the day of the sanctuary visit finally arrived, Adam woke with a sense of eager anticipation. The family’s Portkey room appeared just as he remembered, and with a sharp jolt, the Portkey activated, transporting him, Lucian, Wimble, and a small group of wizard escorts to the heart of the sanctuary. The hidden forest was breathtaking, its towering trees stretching skyward as shimmering patches of sunlight danced across the forest floor.

The workers who greeted them were dressed in muted greens and browns, blending seamlessly with the forest surroundings. After a brief update on the sanctuary's progress and the health of its magical residents, they were led through winding paths to the unicorn clearing.

The sight of the unicorn herd took Adam’s breath away. The creatures were even more majestic up close, their silver coats glinting like liquid moonlight and their spiraling horns seeming to radiate a quiet, otherworldly power.

“Stay back and observe young master,” one of the workers advised. “Unicorns value their space, especially the herd leaders.”

But as Adam watched the herd, his eyes sought out one unicorn in particular—the one he’d heard had been injured and nursed back to health. Spotting the creature grazing near the edge of the clearing, Adam felt an irresistible urge to approach.

Lucian noticed his intent. “Adam, don’t—” he began, but Adam raised a reassuring hand.

“I’ll be careful,” Adam promised, moving forward with deliberate slowness.

The leader of the herd, a large stallion, stepped forward, blocking Adam’s path. The unicorn’s piercing gaze seemed to weigh his worth, and Adam froze, letting the creature decide. After a tense moment, the stallion snorted softly and stepped aside, as if granting permission.

The injured unicorn didn’t shy away as Adam approached. Instead, it lifted its head, regarding him with an almost curious intelligence. Adam spoke softly, his voice gentle and reassuring, as he extended a hand. To his delight, the unicorn allowed him to touch its silken coat, its muscles relaxing under his touch.

The workers and Lucian watched in stunned silence. When Adam returned to the group, Lucian’s astonishment was evident. “That was... unusual,” he said, his tone a mix of respect and disbelief. “Unicorns are wary by nature. You really do have a gift with magical creatures.”

Adam shrugged, though his grin betrayed his pride. “I think they just know when someone means them no harm.”

The rest of the sanctuary visit was nothing short of enchanting. The workers led Adam and his group deeper into the sprawling grounds, where magic seemed to pulse through every leaf and every stone. Under the dappled sunlight, mooncalves grazed peacefully beneath a dense canopy of enchanted trees, their silvery coats shimmering softly. Their luminous eyes turned toward the visitors, curious but unafraid, as though sensing Adam’s bond with magical creatures. Adam also observed numerous large insects fluttering about, searching for food.

Further along, the group stumbled upon a herd of thestrals roaming freely, their skeletal forms casting haunting shadows on the grass. Among them were young thestrals, gangly but graceful, awkwardly flapping their translucent wings as they practiced small hops into the air. Adam crouched down to observe, his sharp eyes catching the tender care the adults showed their offspring.

“They’re fascinating, aren’t they?” one female worker whispered, her tone filled with awe as she watched one young thestral nuzzle its mother.

“Beautiful, in their own way,” Adam agreed, his voice low, as though not to disturb the serene moment.

As they walked further, a rush of wind stirred the group, and a majestic thunderbird appeared in the sky, its massive wings stretching wide against the horizon. Its feathers gleamed with hints of electric blue, and its movements seemed to ripple with the raw energy of a brewing storm.

Nearby, an older man with a weathered face and robes that bore signs of long years tending magical creatures approached. His sharp eyes softened as he saw Adam.

“Master Adam,” the sanctuary caretaker greeted, his voice warm but respectful. “It’s been a while since i have seen you. I trust you’ve been well.

Adam nodded, offering a polite smile. I am good, Mister Halloway. The sanctuary is as incredible.”

Adam gestured to the thunderbird. “What’s the story behind it?”

Halloway followed Adam’s gaze, a hint of pride glinting in his eyes. “Ah, that one. She came to us badly injured years ago—wings torn and magic nearly depleted. Your family, Master Adam, was instrumental in her recovery. Lord Morgan insisted we spare no effort, and we nursed her back to health. She’s almost ready to return to the wild.”

The thunderbird gave a powerful flap of its wings, stirring the air in a display of strength before soaring upward and disappearing into the azure sky.

As Adam continued on, he spotted a family of Graphorns near the foothills of a mountain slope. Their tough, stone-like hides glinted faintly in the sunlight as they grazed in the high grass. The creatures were enormous, their curved horns imposing yet elegant.

“Are those…Graphorns?” Adam asked, squinting to get a better look. “I thought they were practically extinct.”

One worker chuckled softly. “They very nearly were. It took the combined efforts of Newt Scamander in his younger years and the Morgans to ensure their survival. These magnificent beasts are thriving now, but only in carefully maintained environments like this one.”

The group watched in quiet awe as the Graphorns moved with surprising grace, their sheer presence a testament to the sanctuary’s success in preserving magical wildlife.

As the visit came to an end, he felt a deep sense of purpose. Walking among these creatures—many of them rare or thought lost—was a reminder of his family’s commitment to protecting magical life. It also strengthened his resolve to continue that legacy, ensuring that sanctuaries like this one could exist for generations to come.

With the sun beginning to dip below the horizon, the group made their way back, the sanctuary’s magic lingering in their hearts long after they left its gates.

By the time they returned to Morgan Castle via Portkey, Adam was brimming with stories. At dinner table, he recounted every detail to his family, mimicking the elegance of the unicorns and the majesty of the thunderbird with animated gestures. His siblings teased him about his excitement, but their interest was genuine, and even his mother seemed impressed by his tale.

Lying in bed, Adam’s thoughts drifted to the adventures still to come—the Trio’s visit, his birthday celebration, and the plans he have for the next year.