Adam and the trio make their way toward the Great Hall, weaving through the bustling corridors alive with chatter. Students exchange tales of summer adventures, their voices mingling with the occasional clatter of enchanted objects moving about. The familiar hum of life at Hogwarts surrounds them, a symphony of magic.

As they walk, Adam’s gaze often drifts to the grand portraits adorning the walls. He pauses now and then to offer a polite nod or exchange a few words with the castle’s resident ghosts and enchanted paintings. Sir Cadogan tips his helmet in a dramatic bow, while the Walburga Black potrait, who is known for constantly screaming "Filth!" and "Scum! to others greets Adam nicely.

Ron, trailing slightly behind, finally voices the question that has been on his mind. “Adam, why are you always so keen on making friends with ghosts and portraits? They’re not exactly… alive, are they?”

Adam grins, his expression a mix of mischief and sincerity. “Because, Ron,” he replies, “they’ll never backstab me. Plus, they’re excellent sources of information about the castle. They’ve seen everything, and they’ve got stories you wouldn’t believe.”

Ron blinks, considering this for a moment. “Fair point, I guess. Still a bit odd, though.”

Hermione, ever the voice of reason, interjects with a raised eyebrow. “Adam, you know we’d never betray you. You can trust us.”

Adam chuckles softly, his eyes warm as he glances at his friends. “I know that, Hermione. That’s why I made friends with you lot. But you’ve seen how things can get—being a Morgan comes with its share of challenges. I don’t trust many others.”

Harry nods in quiet agreement, his gaze distant. “He’s right. I saw it firsthand during the New York trip—how he was attacked because of his wealth. It’s not easy when everyone has an opinion about your family or thinks they know you just because of your name.”

The group falls silent for a moment, the weight of Harry’s words sinking in. Yet, in that quiet pause, their friendship feels stronger than ever.

The group shares a laugh as they approach the towering double doors of the Great Hall. The sound of chatter and clinking utensils spills out, mingling with the warm glow of floating candles visible through the open doorway. The sheer energy of the first feast of the year fills the air, a comforting rhythm they have all come to cherish.

Inside, the trio waves to their fellow Gryffindor students, exchanging cheerful greetings as they navigate their way to the long, wooden table. Familiar faces beam back at them, and Ron eagerly claims a spot near the center of the table, pulling Harry and Hermione into the mix.

Adam, however, breaks away, his stride purposeful as he makes his way toward the Slytherin table. The subtle shift in atmosphere as he approached didn’t faze him. Eyes briefly darted in his direction, but most returned to their meals and conversations. Several Slytherins exchanged furtive glances—some new years with mild curiosity, others with disdain—as though Adam’s presence among them disrupted an unspoken order. His gaze settled on his sister, Elara, seated at the head of the table, her Head Girl badge glinting proudly on her school uniform.

“Head Girl,” Adam calls out with a teasing grin, his voice just loud enough to draw her attention. “How’s everything going over here?”

Elara looks up, her smirk softening into an amused smile. She brushes a strand of sleek, dark hair behind her ear, a gesture so familiar it makes Adam chuckle. “Very good,” she replies, her tone carrying an air of composure befitting her new title. “Though I have a feeling this year will be anything but normal, thanks to Sirius Black on the loose and Dementors prowling around. Also…” Her voice lowers slightly, her gaze sharpening. “How’s Harry? I heard he fainted after his little run-in with a Dementor.”

Adam shrugs, leaning casually against the table. “He’s fine now. It just tried to feed on him—you know how dementors are. But Lupin handled it, and Harry bounced back quickly.”

Elara nods, a flicker of concern crossing her face before she schools her expression. “Good. Keep an eye on him, Adam. He’s got enough on his plate without dealing with the Ministry’s fearmongering.”

Adam’s grin softens into a look of understanding. “Always do, Elara. Don’t worry.”

After a few more lighthearted exchanges—Elara teasing him about his fondness for sneaking sweets from the kitchens, and Adam joking about her “terrifying” authority as Head Girl—he bids her farewell and heads back to the Gryffindor table.

Sliding into a seat beside Hermione, Adam joins the trio just as Professor McGonagall steps forward with the Sorting Hat. The hall quiets, save for the faint rustle of the first-years nervously lining up. The Sorting Hat ceremony begins promptly, and one by one, the new students are sorted into their respective houses, each decision greeted with cheers and applause.

As the ceremony continues, Adam glances at the delicious spread before him, anticipating the rich flavors of the Hogwarts kitchen. His thoughts momentarily drift to the castle’s kitchen, where he imagines Mip, the devoted castle-elf, bustling as always to fulfill his request: a bucket of fish for Argos, the giant squid. The thought brings a small smile to his face, knowing that the next day, after classes, he’ll have the chance to visit the lake and toss the bucket’s contents to the waiting friend of his.

Following the Sorting Ceremony, the soft hum of conversation fills the Great Hall, only to quiet once more as the Hogwarts choir rises. Accompanied by an assortment of toads croaking in rhythm, the choir performs a cheerful, spirited song that fills the hall with vibrant melodies. The students and staff alike clap along, their spirits lifted by the performance. When the final note rings out, a wave of applause sweeps through the room.

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As the applause fades, Professor Dumbledore rises from his ornate chair at the staff table, his presence commanding immediate attention. The twinkle in his eyes is tempered by the gravity of the news he must deliver.

“I am pleased to welcome you all to another year at Hogwarts,” Dumbledore begins, his voice calm yet firm. The room falls utterly silent, hanging on his every word. “This year, we have two staffing changes to announce. First, Professor R.J. Lupin will be joining us as the new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher.”

A polite round of applause ripples through the hall, though some students glance curiously toward the end of the staff table, where Lupin sits quietly, offering a faint smile.

Dumbledore raises his hand, silencing the clapping before continuing. “Second, Hagrid will take over as Care of Magical Creatures professor following the retirement of Professor Kettleburn, who has decided to spend his golden years in peace.”

The hall erupts in cheers, especially at the Gryffindor table, where the applause is nearly deafening. Adam notices Hagrid’s face flush red as he waves bashfully to the students. Even at the Slytherin table, there’s a smattering of polite clapping—though Malfoy’s sneer stands out.

“Imagine fainting just because of a Dementor,” Draco Malfoy mutters loudly, his cold gaze darting toward Harry, his smirk evident.

Ron’s fists clench, his ears reddening as he whispers fiercely, “Ignore him, Harry.”

Adam, however, doesn’t let it slide. He turns toward Malfoy, his emerald eyes sharp and unyielding. The intensity of Adam’s gaze silences Draco instantly, the smugness draining from his face. Malfoy looks away, his composure shaken, well aware of the power the Morgans wield and the consequences his family has already faced because of them last year.

Satisfied, Adam shifts his focus back to Dumbledore, who continues, his expression now more solemn.

“As many of you are aware, Sirius Black has escaped from Azkaban. To ensure the safety of all students, the Ministry has assigned the Dementors of Azkaban to be stationed around Hogwarts until Black is apprehended.” A murmur ripples through the hall at the mention of the escaped prisoner. “I must warn you,” Dumbledore adds, his tone grave, “Dementors are indiscriminate and foul creature. They do not distinguish between friend or foe. Avoid them at all costs.”

The hall falls into an uneasy silence, the weight of Dumbledore’s warning sinking in. Adam’s thoughts, however, are elsewhere. His mind drifts to Thor, his majestic Thunderbird. He knew Thor would not take kindly to the presence of Dementors; their oppressive aura was anathema to the bird’s electric, life-giving nature. Adam silently hoped the two wouldn’t cross paths, fully aware that a confrontation could spell chaos. Thor, with his storm-born spirit, would almost certainly lash out against their oppressive presence—a clash that could shatter the fragile balance at Hogwarts.

As the feast resumes and plates refill with dessert, Adam exchanges a meaningful glance with Hermione. She, too, seems unsettled by the idea of Dementors so close to the school. Harry, meanwhile, focuses on his treacle tart, though Adam can tell his friend is doing his best to mask his anxiety. Ron keeps glancing toward the Slytherin table, clearly fuming about Malfoy words but holding back for Harry’s sake.

Adam leans in slightly and murmurs, “Don’t worry, Harry. If the Dementors come near you again, we’ll be ready.”

Harry gives a small nod of thanks, the faintest trace of a smile flickering across his face.

As the feast concludes, the students begin filing out of the Great Hall, their chatter echoing through the stone corridors. Adam walks alongside Harry, Ron, and Hermione, weaving through the crowd of excited Gryffindors. They ascend the staircase toward the Gryffindor Tower, the familiar path bustling with energy and laughter.

When they reached the portrait of the Fat Lady, she struck a dramatic pose and declared, “Watch as I break this glass with my singing!”

“Fortuna Major,” Harry said clearly, but she didn’t budge. Instead, she leaned closer, pretending not to hear, and began singing loudly. When the glass didn’t break, she smashed it herself in frustration.

Harry sighed and repeated, “Fortuna Major.”

Finally, the Fat Lady swung open the door, her exaggerated antics earning a chuckle from Ron and a roll of the eyes from Hermione. Adam smirked, amused by the portrait’s flair.

Inside, the Gryffindor common room is a whirlwind of activity. Flames crackle in the grand fireplace, casting a warm glow over the vibrant red and gold furnishings. Students gathered in clusters, exchanging stories about their summers, planning pranks, or sharing their excitement for the upcoming school year. The air buzzed with anticipation, as the new term was set to begin tomorrow.

Harry turns to Adam, his eyes bright with enthusiasm. “Some of the boys are planning to play games later in the dorm. You should join us—it’ll be fun.”

Adam offers a warm smile but gently shakes his head. “You go ahead. I have some things I need to take care of tonight.”

Harry studies Adam for a moment, understanding his reserved nature. He doesn’t press further, instead clapping him lightly on the shoulder. “Alright. See you tomorrow.”

As Harry heads toward the boys’ dormitory with Ron in tow, Adam lingers near the common room’s window, watching his friend go. A fond smile plays on his lips, a mixture of affection and quiet pride. He knows Harry will have his share of challenges this year, but he also trusts in his resilience.

Eventually, Adam retreats to his own dorm, tucked away within the castle’s sprawling halls. The room is quiet, its ambiance a blend of comfort and mystique, accented by enchanted candles that flicker with a soothing glow. Seraphina, his loyal owl, perches elegantly on a gilded stand near the window. Her plumage shimmers faintly in the soft light, a calming presence against the backdrop of the starry night.

Adam strokes her feathers gently, her warmth spreading through his fingertips. “We’ve got a long year ahead,” he murmurs softly, his voice a blend of anticipation and determination. Seraphina hoots in approval.

His thoughts drifted to the Dementors stationed around Hogwarts, their presence a stark reminder of the dangers lurking beyond the castle walls. Yet, to Adam, the greater danger lay within—in the form of Lupin, the werewolf. He knew, however, that Lupin only lost control during his transformations.

Maybe he should employ Lupin once he left Hogwarts at the end of the year. Adam knew the man was good and would undoubtedly be a valuable asset to Morgan’s. Even though Lupin was part of the Order of the Phoenix, Adam didn’t mind.

Thor’s protective nature offered Adam a measure of comfort, knowing that he spent half his time outside the castle, meeting new magical friends and caring for old ones.

As the castle settles into silence, Adam leans back in his chair, his gaze fixed on the moonlit horizon. The days ahead will be anything but ordinary, but that’s precisely what he has come to expect at Hogwarts. With a deep breath and the reassuring hum of Seraphina’s presence, Adam allows himself to rest.