The clock strikes 3 PM, and the Gryffindor common room gradually empties as students head off to their chosen activities. Adam, balancing a stack of books and notes in his arms, follows Hermione, Harry, and Ron out of the tower. The four make their way to the library, the promise of an uninterrupted study session luring even the reluctant Harry and Ron. The weight of impending end-of-year exams is beginning to press down on all of them, nudging even the most procrastinating Gryffindors toward preparation.

As they settle into a secluded corner of the library, the ambient noise of flipping pages and whispered conversations fades into the background. Adam spreads his notes across the table, while Hermione produces an impressive array of color-coded parchments. Harry and Ron exchange looks, clearly less enthusiastic, but they begin to leaf through their textbooks anyway.

After a few minutes of quiet, Adam glances up from a detailed chart outlining Hogwarts’ elective courses. With their third year fast approaching, decisions about which subjects to take are looming.

“So,” Adam begins, setting the chart down, “have you all decided which electives you’re going to take?”

Hermione’s eyes light up immediately. “I’m taking all five electives,” she announces with a confidence that only she can muster. “There’s so much to learn, and I don’t want to miss out on anything.”

Ron gapes at her, his quill pausing mid-scratch on his parchment. “All five? That sounds mad. You’ll never have a moment to breathe and some classes will overlap each other.”

Hermione shrugs, unfazed. “I’ll manage. Besides, the professors wouldn’t let us take on more than we can handle.”

Ron raises an eyebrow but wisely refrains from arguing further. He casts a pleading look at Harry, who simply shakes his head, clearly used to Hermione’s ambition.

Adam leans back in his chair, considering his own options. “I’m planning on Care of Magical Creatures and Study of Ancient Runes,” he says. “Runes have always fascinated me—there’s so much ancient magic tied to them. And, well, magical creatures are kind of my thing.”

Harry grins. “Ron and I are thinking about Divination and Care of Magical Creatures too. Divination sounds... interesting, at least.”

“Interesting?” Ron snorts. “It’s a fancy way of saying we get to sit around and guess things. I’m not about to sign up for anything as complicated as Runes.”

Adam chuckles softly, shaking his head. He knows Ron’s penchant for avoiding extra effort but decides not to comment. Instead, he makes a mental note to research the electives further. While he’s confident in his choices, a second opinion never hurts. Hermione’s ambitious five-subject plan, however, earns a glance of quiet admiration—though he privately wonders how she’ll manage the workload without completely wearing herself out even with the help of time turner.

The study session stretches into the evening, their initial focus slowly dissolving as hunger and fatigue set in. Mip, a cheerful house-elf Adam has befriended during his many late-night library visits, appears with a tray laden with snacks. Plates of Bertie Bott’s Every Flavor Beans, butterbeer, and acid pops land on their table, eliciting an enthusiastic cheer from Ron.

“Bless you, Mip!” Ron exclaims, diving into the treats without hesitation.

Mip beams. “Young Master Ron always enjoys Mip’s snacks,” the house-elf says with a bow before disappearing with a crack.

Adam smiles, popping an acid pop into his mouth and savoring the tingling sensation. He watches his friends, momentarily letting the atmosphere soak in. These peaceful moments, surrounded by camaraderie and shared determination, are ones he treasures deeply. Soon enough, the study session resumes, their laughter and banter weaving through the library’s quiet.

As curfew approaches, the crisp January night settles over Hogwarts, blanketing the grounds in a quiet chill. Adam excuses himself from the Gryffindor common room, pulling his warmest robes tightly around him. The castle corridors are dimly lit, and the occasional flicker of torchlight casts dancing shadows on the walls. Adam steps outside into the frosty air, his breath forming soft clouds as he descends toward the Black Lake.

The biting wind nips at his cheeks, but he relishes the solitude. The snow crunches softly beneath his boots as he approaches the lake’s frozen edge. Stopping a few paces from the icy water, Adam crouches down, cupping his hands around his mouth.

“Argos!” he calls softly, his voice carrying across the stillness.

For a moment, there is no response, only the gentle rustle of the wind and the faint creak of the ice at the lake’s surface. Then, with a subtle ripple, the water stirs. A massive tentacle breaks through, followed by another, and soon the familiar form of Argos, the giant squid, emerges breaking the frozen surface. His enormous, glistening eyes reflect the faint moonlight, and his tentacles move with slow, deliberate grace. Adam grins, feeling the familiar warmth of Argos’s presence even in the cold.

Reaching into his enchanted bag, Adam retrieves a bundle of fresh fish he prepared earlier. He tosses the fish one by one into the water, watching as Argos accepts them eagerly. The squid’s tentacles wave in what Adam likes to imagine is gratitude.

“No splashing today, okay?” Adam chuckles, wagging a finger at the massive creature. “I’d rather not end up an ice sculpture.”

Argos seems to understand—or perhaps he simply senses Adam’s tone—and refrains from his usual playful splashes. Adam lingers for a while longer, speaking to Argos in a low, affectionate voice. Argos attentiveness makes Adam feel as if he is truly being listened to.

If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

Eventually, Adam stands, brushing the frost from his robes. “Thanks for keeping me company,” he said, giving the squid a small wave. Argos slowly submerged, the surface of the lake stilling once more as the ice fragments settled where it had broken, and he disappeared into the depths.

As Adam begins his walk back to the castle, the snow-covered grounds glimmer under the faint light of the stars. His boots leave a winding trail behind him as he crosses an open stretch of land near the edge of the Forbidden Forest. It’s here that he notices movement—a quick, darting shape against the pristine white.

He pauses, narrowing his eyes. A Frost Salamander, its shimmering, icy-blue scales blending seamlessly with the snow, scurries across his path. Its sleek body is barely visible as it weaves between patches of untouched snow.

Adam crouches low, holding out his hand in a gesture of peace. “Hey there,” he whispers, his voice soft and inviting. “I won’t hurt you.”

The salamander freezes, its crystalline eyes locking onto Adam for a fleeting moment. It seems to consider him, its body tense, before darting away in a flash of blue, disappearing into the shadows of the nearby trees. Adam sighs, a mixture of awe and disappointment on his face.

“One day,” he murmurs, watching the spot where the creature vanished. “One day, I’ll gain your trust too.”

As January draws to a close, the days at Hogwarts settle into an uneasy rhythm. The unease surrounding the Chamber of Secrets lingers heavily, casting a shadow of foreboding over the students and staff. Though no new attacks have occurred since the winter holidays, the fear remains palpable. The professors maintain their vigilance, ensuring students move in groups, and the dueling classes continue as both a practical lesson and a morale booster.

Adam observes the shifting dynamics with quiet contemplation. Hermione’s determination to uncover the monster behind the attacks grows fiercer by the day. She spends hours in the library, pouring over obscure texts and cross-referencing theories with Harry and Ron. Adam often catches glimpses of her in the common room, scribbling notes furiously or debating her latest findings.

Though tempted to step in and offer guidance, Adam ultimately decides against it. Hermione’s eventual petrification, as painful as it will be, is a turning point—one that spurs Harry and Ron to uncover the truth about the Chamber. He knows interfering now could disrupt the flow of events and their ultimate success.

On one crisp morning, Adam makes his way to Dumbledore’s office, a regular part of his routine. Fawkes, the phoenix, has become a close companion, and Adam enjoys the serene moments spent caring for him. As he ascends the spiral staircase and steps into the warm, book-filled office, Fawkes greets him with a melodious trill. The bird’s fiery plumage glows in the sunlight streaming through the high windows, and Adam smiles as he sets down a small plate of treats.

“There you go, Fawkes,” he says softly, stroking the phoenix’s golden beak. “Fresh and just for you.”

Fawkes chirps in appreciation, nuzzling Adam’s hand before turning to the food. The simple interaction fills Adam with a sense of peace. Caring for magical creatures has always been a grounding force in his life, a reminder of the wonder in the world despite its dangers.

“Good morning, Adam,” Dumbledore greets as he enters the office. His voice is warm, yet his sharp, piercing blue eyes take in Adam with their usual intensity. “I trust you are well?”

“Yes, Headmaster,” Adam replies, turning to face him. “And you?”

“Well enough, thank you,” Dumbledore says, his expression softening into a smile. “How are your studies progressing?”

“They’re going well,” Adam assures him. “If I encounter any challenges, I’ll be sure to ask for help.”

Dumbledore nods, his gaze lingering on Adam as though weighing his words. Then, with a subtle shift in tone, he asks, “And your family? Are they faring well?”

The question, though casual on the surface, carries a deeper implication. Adam hesitates briefly, choosing his response with care. “They’re doing fine,” he says evenly. “For now, we’re staying neutral. At least until… the balance shifts.”

“A prudent choice,” Dumbledore agrees, though Adam can sense the curiosity behind his calm demeanor. “I do hope they remain safe during these tumultuous times. Perhaps I should speak to your grandfather about such matters.”

Adam meets Dumbledore’s gaze, his tone measured. “I think he’d be the best person to discuss this with.” He dips his head respectfully and excuses himself, leaving the headmaster to his thoughts.

As Adam descends the staircase, his mind whirls. The brief exchange reminds him of the precarious tightrope he must walk. Balancing his role in this world, the responsibilities of his lineage, and his determination to subtly steer events without drawing undue attention is no small task.

February brings a renewed energy to Hogwarts, highlighted by the highly anticipated Gryffindor versus Ravenclaw Quidditch match. The morning of the game is crisp and cold, though less biting than a month ago, with a sharp wind sweeping across the castle grounds. Adam joins the throngs of students making their way to the Quidditch pitch, his scarf wrapped tightly around his neck and his robes layered for warmth. The atmosphere buzzes with excitement, the rivalry between the two houses fueling spirited chants and cheers.

Seated in the Gryffindor stands, Adam watches as the players take to the skies. The teams are evenly matched, and the game quickly becomes a spectacle of skill and strategy. Ravenclaw’s chasers execute sharp, precise passes, while Gryffindor counters with daring plays and seamless teamwork. The cold air stings Adam’s face, but he hardly notices, caught up in the thrill of the match.

The crowd erupts in cheers and groans as the Quaffle zips back and forth, each goal raising the stakes. Adam’s gaze occasionally shifts to Harry, who circles the pitch with laser focus, searching for the elusive Golden Snitch. Despite his best efforts, the Snitch remains out of reach, leaving the game to be decided by the chasers.

By the final whistle, Gryffindor emerges victorious, their chasers outscoring Ravenclaw by a narrow margin. The stands erupt in a cacophony of cheers, the red and gold banners waving triumphantly. Adam joins in, clapping and shouting along with his housemates, though his eyes flick back to Harry, whose frustration is unmistakable.

As the team gathers on the field to celebrate, Harry lingers at the edge, his broom clutched tightly in his hand. Ron and Hermione waste no time in approaching him, their enthusiasm undeterred by his disappointment.

“You’ll get it next time,” Ron says, clapping Harry on the back. His tone is upbeat, though Adam can tell he’s choosing his words carefully.

Hermione chimes in with an encouraging smile. “Exactly. Besides, the team played brilliantly. You were a big part of that.”

Adam steps forward, his own voice steady and reassuring. “They’re right, Harry. Winning is about more than catching the Snitch. Gryffindor’s teamwork was incredible today, and that’s what mattered.”

Harry’s expression softens at their words, though a hint of frustration lingers. “Thanks, guys,” he says, managing a small smile. “I just… I hate letting everyone down.”

“You didn’t let anyone down,” Adam replies firmly. “Quidditch is a team effort, and today, the team won. That’s what counts.”

The group begins making their way back to the castle, the icy wind biting at their faces. Adam lags slightly behind, his thoughts turning introspective. He knows the year’s Quidditch season will be cut short by the chaos surrounding the Chamber of Secrets. Adam need to support Harry and Ron when Hermione will pertify by Basilisk.