As Adam enjoys his breakfast, his mind wanders to the week ahead, reviewing his timetable with practiced ease. Each day is a blend of subjects that both intrigue and excite him. He has always loved attending classes, finding the pursuit of knowledge deeply rewarding. Exams, however, are another story. Despite his less-than-enthusiastic approach to tests, he has still managed to top the previous year’s results—much to Hermione’s thinly veiled frustration. He smirks inwardly at the memory of her incredulous expression when the final scores were announced.

Adam mentally recites his schedule, organizing the week in his mind:

Monday: Transfiguration, Charms, Study of Ancient Runes, Flying.

Tuesday: Care of Magical Creatures, Potions, Astronomy.

Wednesday: History of Magic, Herbology, Transfiguration, Flying.

Thursday: Defence Against the Dark Arts, Astronomy, Herbology.

Friday: Charms, Potions, Defence Against the Dark Arts, Flying.

He finds himself particularly looking forward to Monday’s lineup. Transfiguration and Charms are personal favorites, and Study of Ancient Runes, though new, offers an intellectual depth he appreciates. The subject demands focus, something Adam has in abundance, and he doesn’t mind attending it alone without the trio. It is, in fact, a welcome reprieve from the chatter of group dynamics.

Adam’s thoughts shift to Divination, the class he has deliberately not taken among the electives. While he doesn’t doubt that Professor Trelawney possesses some measure of talent, her overly dramatic flair and cryptic pronouncements aren’t to his taste. He much prefers disciplines rooted in logic and structure, even if magic often defies both. Glancing at the trio across the table, he silently wishes them good luck for their Divination class later today.

The first class of the day is Transfiguration, a subject Adam has always held in high regard. Today, Professor McGonagall introduces the fascinating topic of Animagi, capturing the attention of the entire class. Adam leans forward in his seat, absorbing every word of her lecture. While he read extensively on the subject during the summer, McGonagall’s insights and firsthand experiences add layers of nuance that the books simply couldn’t convey. This is why I love Hogwarts, he thinks. No matter how much he studies, there is always something new to learn, even about topics he considers familiar.

Hermione, predictably, is the first to raise her hand at every question. Her answers are thorough and precise, earning nods of approval from McGonagall. Adam chooses not to compete for attention, content to listen and observe. He knows how much Hermione enjoys the spotlight in moments like these, and he is happy to let her shine. Ron and Harry, meanwhile, exchange bemused glances, clearly less enthusiastic about the finer points of the lesson.

The second class, Charms, proves just as engaging. Professor Flitwick, standing atop his stack of books to see over the desk, introduces the Cheering Charm, a delightful spell designed to lift spirits and brighten moods. With a flick of his wand, Flitwick demonstrates the charm on a volunteer, who instantly breaks into a wide grin. The charm’s effects, when perfectly executed, are subtle and uplifting, but Flitwick also cautions the class about overdoing it.

“To cast it improperly,” Flitwick explains with a twinkle in his eye, “might leave your target laughing uncontrollably for hours. Amusing, yes, but not very practical in most situations.”

The professor then conjures a few humorous scenarios of exaggerated Cheering Charms gone awry, earning a ripple of laughter from the class. Adam finds himself chuckling along, imagining the kind of chaos such a spell could cause if misused—students rolling on the floor in uncontrollable mirth, unable to stop.

As the lesson progresses, Adam practices the charm with precision, ensuring his wand movements and incantation are flawless. The faint glimmer of satisfaction he feels when his partner’s expression brightens tells him he has executed it correctly.

At lunch, Adam enjoys a hearty meal, the rich flavors of roasted chicken and fresh-baked bread fueling him for the busy afternoon ahead. Across the table, Harry, Ron, and Hermione discuss their upcoming Divination class. After bidding the trio farewell, Adam makes his way toward the classroom for Study of Ancient Runes.

As he walks down the corridor, he is surprised to see Hermione heading into the same classroom. Her purposeful stride and slightly flustered expression give away her usual over-packed schedule.

“You’re taking Runes today instead of Divination?” Adam asks casually, though he already suspects the answer.

Hermione pauses, her gaze darting around for a moment before nodding. “Yes,” she says, her tone careful, as though waiting to gauge his reaction.

Adam offers a knowing nod, his expression calm and understanding. He doesn’t say a word, but his silent acknowledgment speaks volumes. Hermione exhales softly, clearly relieved that he isn’t going to question her. After all, McGonagall had strictly instructed that, when using the Time-Turner, one must avoid being seen by their past self or revealing the time turner to others. The Time-Turner is a closely guarded secretof her, and Adam respects Hermione’s need for discretion.

Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation.

As the students settle into their seats, Professor Bathsheda Babbling begins the lesson with a captivating overview of the history of ancient runes. Her voice carries a quiet enthusiasm, her deep knowledge of the subject evident in every word. Adam listens intently, admiring her ability to weave complex theories into vivid stories about magical civilizations. Though he has delved into runes on his own time, he finds her unique insights and practical examples refreshing.

The runic texts on the board shimmer faintly with magical energy, and Adam quickly jots down notes, his quill moving swiftly across the parchment. He respects Professor Babbling not just for her expertise but for her passion—a quality that makes the subject feel alive.

For a fleeting moment, Adam’s thoughts drift to the future. He knows of the tragic events awaiting Hogwarts and its professors, including Professor Babbling’s fate during the final battle with Voldemort. The image of her falling in the chaos of war is one he can’t ignore.

Adam’s jaw tightens imperceptibly as he refocuses on the lesson. Not this time, he thinks resolutely. Whatever it takes, he will work to alter that future for a few wizards. Lives can be saved, and he silently vows that hers will be among them.

The day concludes with Flying, an optional subject Adam thoroughly enjoys. Mounted on his broomstick, he feels the familiar thrill of being airborne. The rush of wind against his face and the freedom of soaring above the castle are unmatched. Up there, amidst the golden hues of the setting sun, Adam can leave his worries behind, if only for a little while.

As the class wraps up and he descends back to the ground, Adam’s mind is clearer, his thoughts refreshed by the exhilaration of flight. It is moments like these that remind him why he chose Flying, even though it is optional after the second year.

Later that evening, back in the Gryffindor common room, Adam joins the trio by the fireplace. Harry’s sullen expression immediately catches his attention.

“What happened?” Adam asks, his tone calm but curious.

Ron doesn’t hesitate to answer. “Trelawney’s gone and predicted Harry’s death during her class. Something about a bad omen or whatever.” His frustration is evident, though a trace of amusement lingers in his voice.

Adam sighs, glancing at Harry, who looks more annoyed than frightened. He places a reassuring hand on Harry’s shoulder. “Don’t let it get to you. Divination is... well, speculative at best. Trelawney’s flair for the dramatic is part of her charm—or her curse, depending on how you look at it.”

Harry manages a small smile, though his spirits don’t fully recover. Adam knows better than to press further, so he allows the conversation to shift as the evening goes on.

Leaving the trio to their discussions, Adam makes his way to the kitchens. The warm, bustling atmosphere greets him as he enters, and Mip, a cheerful house-elf with bright eyes, quickly appears by his side.

“Master Adam, sir!” Mip says with a bow, presenting him with a bucket of freshly caught fish. “For Argos, sir! The best ones we could find!”

Adam smiles, taking the bucket. “Thank you, Mip. Argos will appreciate this.”

As he is about to leave, Adam’s gaze falls on Dobby, who is diligently scrubbing dishes in the corner. He pauses, stepping closer. “How’s the new job treating you, Dobby?”

Dobby’s large ears perk up, and he turns with a bright grin. “Oh, Master Adam, sir! Dobby is happy! Master Harry suggest him to work here, and Hogwarts gives Dobby work with pay and days off! Dobby has never been so free and happy!”

Adam nods, satisfied by the enthusiasm radiating from the elf. “Good. You deserve it, Dobby. And don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.”

Around him, the other house-elves chime in, their chatter full of pride for serving Hogwarts. Their dedication and joy never cease to impress Adam. Before leaving, he takes a moment to thank them all, knowing their hard work often goes unnoticed but is deeply appreciated.

With the bucket in hand and a smile lingering on his face, Adam leaves the kitchens, ready to deliver Argos his evening meal.

As the sun slwoly dipping slowly below the horizon, casting hues of amber and violet across the sky, Adam makes his way to the Great Lake, the bucket of fish swinging lightly in his hand. Thor, his majestic Thunderbird, spots him from the sky, his powerful wings slicing through the cool evening air. With a graceful descent, Thor lands beside Adam, his feathers shimmering in the fading light.

“Hungry?” Adam asks, pulling a fish from the bucket and tossing it toward Thor. The Thunderbird catches it effortlessly, his sharp beak snapping shut with a satisfied clack. After a few more bites, Adam pats Thor’s head gently. “That’s enough for you. Don’t disturb Argos—he likes his meals uninterrupted.”

Thor cocks his head, as if considering the advice, before nodding solemnly. His golden eyes follow Adam as he approaches the lake’s edge and begins tossing fish into the water.

The surface ripples, and soon enough, Argos’s massive tentacles emerge, followed by his curious head. The Giant Squid’s dark, glistening eyes lock onto Thor, and for a moment, the two magical creatures seem to communicate in a language Adam cannot fathom. Thor lets out a low, trilling sound, while Argos sways one tentacle in response. The standoff ends when Thor settles into a watchful stance, apparently content to observe.

As Argos consumes his meal, Adam speaks to him as though to an old friend. He recounts stories of his summer holiday, his voice tinged with fondness as he describes his adventures and the unique magical creatures he encountered. Argos’s enormous eyes reflect the warm glow of the setting sun.

Eventually, Thor grows restless and takes to the skies, his wings beating with a powerful rhythm as he soars back toward the Forbidden Forest. Adam watches him disappear into the trees before turning back to Argos, who is now finishing the last of the fish.

“He’s free-spirited, just like you,” Adam remarks with a small smile. Argos responds with a playful wave of a tentacle before slipping beneath the surface, leaving only gentle ripples behind.

On his way back to the castle, Adam’s mood shifts abruptly. High above the grounds, two Dementors glide silently, their dark forms stark against the deepening twilight. A chill creeps through the air, and Adam freezes, his hand instinctively reaching for his wand.

The Dementors descend slightly, their oppressive presence casting an eerie shadow over the landscape. Adam feels the familiar, icy grip of their aura, but he stands firm, his gaze steady as he watches them.

They must still be searching for Sirius Black, Adam thinks, his mind racing. He knows better than to provoke them and decides to remain passive, allowing the creatures to sense him without reacting in hostility.

Still, Adam’s grip on his wand remains firm. If they attack, I’ll be ready, he resolves silently, though he knows it’s unlikely they would dare harm students on Hogwarts grounds.