It’s the first week of June, and Hogwarts feels unusually relaxed for this time of year. Normally, the castle buzzes with the nervous energy of last-minute cramming and whispered exam tips, but this year, a strange quiet has settled over the halls. The fifth to seventh-year students are buried under mountains of parchment and textbooks, deep into their OWL and NEWT exams, which means the younger years are left with an unusual luxury—free time. For the next two weeks, Adam and the rest of the first to fourth-year students are free to roam, so long as they stay out of trouble.

The Forbidden Forest is calling Adam, now that the ordeal of the Chamber of Secrets has been resolved and Hagrid has been freed from Azkaban so he can meet Aragog colong again.

With excitement bubbling under his skin, Adam makes his way to the Gryffindor common room. It’s late morning, and the golden light pouring through the tall windows bathes the room in a warm glow. Harry, Ron, and Hermione are gathered near the fire, their conversation flowing easily—until Adam interrupts.

“Fancy a visit to the Acromantula colony?” he asks, trying his best to sound casual, as though he’s inviting them for a stroll to the lake rather than a trip into a spider-infested forest.

Ron’s reaction is instant and, predictably, dramatic. He jerks upright, gaping at Adam as though he’s lost his mind. “Absolutely not. No way. You lot enjoy your last day on Earth without me.”

Harry glances up, his eyebrows knitting together as he considers the idea for a fraction of a second before shaking his head firmly. “I’ll pass too, Adam. Thanks, but no thanks.”

Hermione, however, hesitates. Her eyes dart between Adam and Ron, clearly weighing her options. “I—I don’t know…”

Ron gawks at her in horror, his ears turning red. “Hermione, are you mad? You’re not actually considering walking into a nest of giant spiders, are you?” He shudders violently and mutters, “I’ll start planning your memorial.”

Hermione shoots him an exasperated look. “Oh, Ron, stop being ridiculous. Be positive, will you?” She turns back to Adam, still uncertain, but relents with a sigh. “Fine. I’ll come—but only because I trust you and Hagrid.”

Adam’s grin widens, his eyes lighting up with excitement. “That’s the spirit!”

Ron throws up his hands in defeat. “You lot are insane. Completely off your rockers.” He sinks back into his chair with a theatrical groan, shaking his head. “Don’t come crying to me when you’re spider food.”

Adam and Hermione arrive at Hagrid’s hut to find the half-giant crouched low beside his pumpkin patch, his massive form hunched carefully over a small creature nestled in the grass. Fang sits dutifully beside him, his large, droopy eyes fixed on the animal—a small niffler, curled into a ball and fast asleep, its fur rising and falling with each tiny breath.

“What happened to him?” Adam asks, curiosity and concern pulling him closer as he crouches down beside Hagrid.

“Poor little fella ran into trouble with somethin’ nasty,” Hagrid explains, his deep voice gentle as he strokes the niffler’s velvety fur with surprising tenderness. “Reckon it was a predator huntin’ small magical beasts nearby—could’ve been a manticore or maybe even somethin’ bigger. Don’ you worry, though. Whatever it was, it’s long gone now. Fang here’ll keep an eye on ’im till I’m back.”

Fang gives a soft, gruff huff. Adam reaches out to give the niffler’s tiny head a careful pat, his fingers brushing the warm fur. The creature stirs slightly but settles again, clearly exhausted.

“Poor little guy,” Adam mutters with a sympathetic look before straightening up. “Ready to go, Hagrid?”

“Aye,” Hagrid replies with a hearty nod, rising to his full, towering height. Over one shoulder, he slings two massive sacks that jingle faintly with the sound of their contents. “Got some food fer Aragog and his family. They’ll be glad o’ this. Haven’t had visitors in ages.”

Hermione trails behind as they set off toward the dark line of trees at the edge of the Forbidden Forest. Hermione grips her wand tightly in her hand, her knuckles white. Her wide eyes flit nervously across the canopy and undergrowth, as though half-expecting something to spring from the shadows.

“You’re sure it’s safe, right?” she whispers to Adam, her voice quiet but sharp, like a pinprick of tension.

“Perfectly safe,” Adam replies with a reassuring grin. “They won’t harm you. Not with Hagrid around.”

Hagrid’s booming voice cuts through the hush of the forest as he glances over his shoulder. “That’s right! Aragog an’ his family know me. You’ll be fine, Hermione. Jus’ stick close ter me and Adam, an’ keep yer wand at the ready but hidden—just in case.”

Hermione takes a shaky breath and nods, though her expression still betrays her doubt. “Right. Just in case.”

“Yer gonna love it,” Hagrid calls back to them, his tone bright despite the dark surroundings. “The Acromantulas are incredible creatures, yeh know. Misunderstood, mostly. You’ll see.”

Adam grins at Hermione, lowering his voice as they follow Hagrid deeper into the shadows. “See? Misunderstood. Perfectly safe.”

Hermione gives him a flat look, her voice tight. “You’re not helping, Adam.”

After a long trek through the thick undergrowth of the Forbidden Forest, they finally arrive at the Acromantula colony. At the far end, a massive burrow yawns open before them, its dark entrance gaping like the mouth of some ancient, slumbering beast.

Small spiders—no larger than Fang’s paw—scatter at the sound of their footsteps, scuttling into the shadows as if fleeing unseen danger. Hermione shudders, her fingers curling tightly around her wand as she eyes the burrow warily.

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“This is it?” she whispers, her voice trembling slightly.

“Yep,” Adam replies cheerfully, though his tone is lower now, more reverent. “Welcome to Aragog’s home.”

Hermione mutters something that sounds suspiciously like madness, but before she can change her mind, Hagrid strides confidently forward, his heavy boots thudding against the earth. “Come on now, don’ be shy. Aragog’ll be expectin’ us!”

Adam follows closely behind Hagrid, sparing Hermione a quick, reassuring glance. Reluctantly, she steps forward too, though her eyes remain fixed on the burrow’s darkened mouth.

The entrance swallows them whole, and as their eyes adjust to the gloom, Aragog’s presence becomes unmistakable. He waits deep within the burrow, his colossal form nearly blending into the shadows.

Hermione stiffens beside Adam, her breath catching. Without realizing it, she grips his sleeve tightly, her knuckles pale.

“Easy,” Adam whispers, leaning slightly toward her. “He’s friendly. Sort of.”

“Friendly?” she hisses under her breath. “That’s friendly?”

Before Adam can reply, Aragog speaks. His voice reverberates through the burrow like a distant thunderclap, deep and resonant, carrying an unsettling weight.

“Hagrid… and young Adam,” Aragog intones, his many eyes shifting toward them. “You have returned.”

Hagrid beams at the greeting, stepping forward with a fond smile. “Good ter see yeh, Aragog! Been too long. Brought some food fer yeh an’ the family.” He pats the large sacks slung over his shoulder, the sound of clinking and rustling audible even in the hushed space.

Aragog’s gaze slides slowly to Hermione, who goes rigid as stone. His mandibles click softly. “And this one?”

“She’s a friend,” Adam says quickly, stepping slightly in front of Hermione. “She means no harm.”

For a long moment, Aragog is silent, his gaze unwavering. Then he speaks again, his voice slower, measured. “Two others—your friends—visited us some weeks ago. They caused a great disturbance.”

Hermione shoots Adam a sharp look, and he grimaces. Ron’s terrified shrieking probably hadn’t left the best impression.

Hagrid groans, scratching the back of his neck. “Ah, yeh mean Harry and Ron. They didn’ mean no harm, Aragog—they were just scared, that’s all. Can’t blame ’em, really, not everyone’s used to bein’ around Acromantulas.” He chuckles awkwardly before adding firmly, “If yeh see ’em again, don’ hurt ’em. Promise me that.”

Aragog shifts, his legs scraping faintly against the earth, as though considering Hagrid’s request. Finally, he relents. “As you wish, Hagrid. My family will leave them be… so long as they do not disturb us again.”

Adam steps forward, his voice steady. “There’s no more basilisk in the castle, Aragog. The danger is gone. You don’t have to worry about being blamed for any more attacks.”

For the first time, a note of satisfaction rumbles in Aragog’s reply. “Good. The basilisk brought much suffering. I thank you for this news, young one. You and your friends are always welcome here.”

Adam smiles faintly, though he can’t help but think of Ron’s reaction if he heard that. Ron would absolutely disagree.

Hagrid and Adam carefully leave the sacks of food near the center of the burrow. The heavy smell of meat fills the air, though Mosag—Aragog’s mate—is nowhere to be seen. Likely, she is resting deeper in the burrow or out hunting.

With their goodbyes said, Hagrid leads them back into the forest. The return trek is quieter, the forest less imposing now that the tense encounter is behind them. Hermione remains silent for a long while, her face pale and her shoulders tense.

Finally, as they emerge from the shadow of the trees and Hagrid’s hut comes into view, Hermione exhales a shaky breath. “Well… that was horrifying.”

Adam grins, nudging her lightly. “See? You survived. That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

Hermione glares at him, though there’s no real venom behind it. “Next time, Adam, I’m staying in the library."

When they return to Hagrid’s hut, the little niffler is wide awake, its beady eyes locked on the shiny brass buttons of Adam’s robe. Its nose twitches as it inches closer, entranced by the gleam.

Adam laughs softly, crouching down. “Alright, alright. Here, have something better.” He rummages through his pocket and pulls out a small trinket—a gleaming brass key. Holding it out, he watches as the niffler snatches it eagerly, letting out a delighted chirp. It rolls onto its back, clutching the key in its tiny paws like a treasure, its excitement utterly infectious.

Hermione kneels beside it, her hesitation replaced by delight. “It’s adorable,” she giggles, holding out her hand. The niffler eyes her warily at first, but curiosity wins out, and soon it scampers up into her lap, its soft fur tickling her hands. “Oh, I could sit here all day.”

Meanwhile, Adam steps to the side, pulling a massive bone from his bag. Fang, who had been watching the interaction with jealous intensity, lets out an eager bark. Adam grins, tossing the bone to the enormous boarhound. “Here you go, Fang!”

Fang pounces on it immediately, slobbering all over the floor as he drags his prize to the corner of the hut, his tail thumping happily.

Hagrid chuckles warmly, rising to his full height with a groan. “Bless ‘im. That’ll keep Fang outta trouble fer a bit. As fer you…” He gives the niffler a fond look. “I’ll take the little fella back to his colony later. Got a few more creatures ter check on first—busy day, yeh see.”

Adam and Hermione exchange smiles before rising to leave.

Back in the Gryffindor common room, they find Harry and Ron hunched over a wizard chessboard. Ron’s face is scrunched up in concentration, while Harry looks slightly exasperated as he contemplates his next move. The chess set gleams in the firelight—one that Adam had gifted them earlier in the first year, its pieces a mix of polished marble and jet black.

“Checkmate in seven move,” Ron announces smugly, earning a dramatic groan from Harry.

“You say that every time,” Harry mutters, slumping back in his chair.

Ron opens his mouth to reply but stops mid-sentence when Hermione recounts their trip to Aragog’s colony. His face pales instantly, and his jaw drops in disbelief. “You actually survived?”

Hermione rolls her eyes. “It wasn’t that bad.”

Ron looks at her as if she’s grown a second head. “Not that bad? Hermione, they’re giant spiders. You’re mad if you think I’d ever set foot anywhere near that nest.” He shudders for emphasis. “Never. Absolutely never.”

Adam chuckles at Ron’s horror, plopping into an empty armchair. He turns to Harry, who’s still frowning at the chessboard. “How’s Dobby doing?”

Harry lets out a small sigh, sitting up straighter. “Still looking for work. He’s determined to get paid, but no one’s hiring him. They think he’s strange because he wants wages. I’ve tried to talk to him about it, but he’s starting to lose hope.”

Adam frowns thoughtfully, then his expression brightens. “Why not suggest he work here at Hogwarts? There are plenty of house-elves already working in the kitchens. Dobby could fit right in—and it’s a paying job.”

Harry’s face lights up. “That’s actually not a bad idea, Adam. I don’t know why I didn’t think of that before.” I’ll talk to Dobby before we leave for the summer.”

“Oh, and tell him to find Mip,” Adam adds. “She’s been here forever—she knows all the ins and outs of the kitchens. She’ll help him settle in.”

Harry nods firmly. “Thanks, Adam. That’s brilliant.”

Ron, meanwhile, moves a knight on the board and smirks triumphantly. “Told you—checkmate.”

Harry groans again, and Adam and Hermione burst out laughing as the fire crackles softly beside them, the warmth of the common room wrapping them like a familiar blanket.