The air around Adam thickens with an icy weight as the two Dementors drift closer, their ragged cloaks swirling in the faint breeze. Each slow movement sends a shiver down his spine, but he plants his feet firmly, refusing to show any sign of weakness. His wand remains steady in his grasp, the warmth of the handle grounding him against the unnatural cold pressing in from all sides. Despite their proximity, Adam can’t shake the feeling that their approach lacks true aggression. There’s no immediate malice—just a looming presence that unsettles him to the core.
Now hovering directly in front of him, the Dementors seem to fixate on him, their eyeless, hollow faces trained on his every breath. Adam’s pulse thrums louder in his ears, but he forces himself to stay still, resisting the primal urge to back away. The sheer closeness of their shrouded forms gnaws at his resolve and maybe some excitment. His heart races faster, yet he maintains control, gripping his wand tighter, ready to react if necessary.
Just as Adam braces for the worst, the unexpected occurs. Without warning, the Dementors drift apart, their movements unnervingly smooth, as if guided by some invisible command. They part in silence, creating a narrow path directly in front of him, as though granting him passage.
A deep crease forms between Adam’s brows. This wasn’t how Dementors operated. They were creatures driven by instinct, predators that latched onto fear and misery. Their merciless pursuit of prey was well-documented, and yet here they stood—yielding. His mind races to piece together the possibilities. Only the Ministry holds sway over Dementors, he reminds himself. Had someone from within ordered them to behave this way? Could it be the Minister’s intervention, or perhaps… something closer to home? The thought lingers—his family’s influence was no secret. But would they bother to intervene in Ministry or Azkaban affairs?
Pushing the speculation aside for now, Adam carefully steps forward, glancing at the Dementors as he moves between them. They make no move to follow, merely drifting in place, their shadowy figures watching with an eerie stillness. After a breathless moment, they begin to rise, gliding soundlessly toward the Forbidden Forest until they vanish beneath the canopy of trees.
The encounter leaves Adam uneasy, the cold pressing deeper than before. A heaviness lingers in his chest as he ascends the stone steps back to the castle. The last thing he wants is to invite questions he can’t answer, so he resolves to keep the incident to himself. Shaking off the frost that clings to his robes somehow, Adam picks up his pace, eager to return to the safety of Gryffindor Tower.
Adam slipped into the dormitory just as the final echoes of the curfew bell faded through the corridors. Inside, the atmosphere was calm—soft murmurs filled the room as his housemates whispered in small clusters, some bent over their textbooks under the flicker of enchanted lanterns. A few were nestled in armchairs by the fireplace, finishing off their essays with hurried quills scratching against parchment. It was a typical evening in Gryffindor Tower, yet as Adam stepped further inside, a subtle shift rippled through the room. Conversations hushed, and eyes flickered toward him with polite but fleeting acknowledgment before drifting back to their tasks.
It had become routine—this quiet, unspoken distance. Though Adam was treated with respect, there was always a gap, a sense of separation that even warmth and courtesy couldn’t bridge. He didn’t mind it much anymore. If anything, he found comfort in the solitude.
Crossing the room, Adam’s gaze softened as he spotted Seraphina perched on the edge of his bed, eagerly tearing into a pouch of owl treats. Her white feathers gleamed under the lantern light, and she ruffled them contentedly as she munched away.
Adam chuckled softly, approaching her with quiet steps. “You’re getting spoiled, Seraphina,” he teased, running his fingers gently down her back. Her feathers fluffed up beneath his touch. “At this rate, I’ll have to stop feeding you all these snacks. You’ll be too heavy to fly, let alone deliver my letters.”
Seraphina froze mid-bite, turning her sharp gaze toward Adam with a disapproving glare. She gave an offended hoot, tilting her head dramatically as if to question his audacity.
Adam laughed, holding his hands up in surrender. “Alright, alright—I’m joking. You’re perfect just the way you are.” He stroked the feathers beneath her chin, earning a more satisfied hoot as she resumed her snack.
The evening drifted on, and one by one, his dorm mates climbed into bed, their conversations fading into soft snores and rustling sheets. Adam waited patiently, biding his time until the last lantern was extinguished. When the room finally settled into quiet, he rose silently from his bed, careful not to disturb anyone, and slipped out through the door.
Down in the common room, the fireplace crackled low, casting long shadows across the cozy space. Adam wasn’t surprised to find Hermione sitting near the hearth, her book spread open but clearly forgotten. She glanced up as he approached, a knowing smile tugging at her lips.
“I knew you’d sneak out eventually,” she said, closing the book with a soft thud. “Room of Requirement?”
Adam grinned. “You really do know me too well.”
With a flick of his wand, Adam murmured incantations, weaving spells of illusion and invisibility over the two of them. The enchantments shimmered briefly before melting into the air, cloaking them in protective magic. Together, they slipped through the portrait hole and into the stillness of the castle’s corridors, their steps soundless as they navigated the winding paths toward the Room of Requirement on seventh floor.
The Room of Requirement materialized before Adam and Hermione with the same quiet elegance it always did, its door sliding open to reveal the familiar expanse within. Adam stepped inside, taking a moment to appreciate how perfectly it had preserved the layout from his last visit. The space stretched wide, lined with shelves of books, neatly organized tools, and enchanted practice dummies positioned in strategic corners. The air hummed faintly with magic, as though the room itself pulsed with life, always waiting for his return.
Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.
“It’s remarkable,” Adam said, his gaze sweeping across the room. “Every time I come here, it’s exactly how I need it. It’s like the room doesn’t just adapt—it remembers.” His fingers brushed against a stack of books that hadn’t been there the week before. “I wonder how it works for others. Does it reset completely or shift depending on who enters?”
Hermione approached one of the bookshelves, pulling down a thick tome bound in dark leather. “There’s ancient magic at play,” she replied, flipping carefully through the pages. “I read that the Room of Requirement’s enchantments are tied to Hogwarts’ very foundations. It listens to the castle’s inhabitants, responding to their desires and intentions.”
Adam chuckled softly, leaning against one of the practice dummies. “Maybe I should try replicating something like this at Morgan Castle. Though… I wouldn’t be surprised if a similar room already exists somewhere behind those locked doors I haven’t managed to open yet.”
Hermione arched a curious brow. “You’ve never tried unlocking them?”
“Not yet,” Adam smirked. “I’ve tried many times, but they don’t budge – even with magic. But I’ll get to it—eventually. For now, I’d rather understand how this room was created. If there’s something to learn from its enchantments, it could be useful.”
Their conversation drifted as they settled into their respective tasks. Adam pulled out a series of scrolls detailing complex magical theories, while Hermione immersed herself in a book that had clearly been untouched for centuries. After some time, Adam shifted gears, demonstrating a few advanced spells he had recently perfected. The room echoed with soft bursts of light and subtle ripples of magic as he walked Hermione through the intricacies, patiently explaining each movement and incantation.
Before long, Adam retrieved a worn, forbidden text from the depths of his satchel—a book he had quietly “borrowed” from the Restricted Section. Hermione shot him a glance but said nothing, unable to suppress her own curiosity. They pored over its contents together, exchanging ideas and unraveling layers of complex spellwork far beyond their usual curriculum.
Hours passed unnoticed until fatigue finally settled in. With a yawn, Hermione stretched and closed the last book, offering Adam a satisfied smile.
“We should head back,” she said, rubbing her eyes.
Adam nodded, tucking the forbidden book away. “Yeah. Let’s not press our luck.”
They exited the room and parted ways at the common room, Hermione heading toward the girls’ dormitory as Adam lingered for a moment. He watched the dying embers in the fireplace before making his way to hgis dorm and finally to his bed.
By morning, the castle buzzed with hushed excitement and nervous chatter. As Adam took his seat at the Gryffindor table for breakfast, he caught snippets of conversations revolving around Dementor sightings on the grounds. Students whispered anxiously, recalling the chilling presence near the Forbidden Forest. Some bragged about having glimpsed the dark creatures, boasting how they hadn’t felt a shred of fear. Others looked pale, shifting uncomfortably at the thought of encountering one up close.
Adam remained quiet, his spoon stirring his porridge absently as his mind drifted to the strange encounter from the previous night. Across the table, his sister Elara sat with a furrowed brow, occasionally glancing toward the staff table. Adam recognized the signs—stress clung to her like a shadow, and though she maintained her poise as Head Girl, the weight of the year ahead was clearly beginning to show.
This year will test her, Adam thought, noting the way her hand occasionally drifted to the badge pinned to her robes. He considered speaking to her later but decided to let her handle it for now—she was much more powerful than him at the moment.
After breakfast, Adam joined Harry, Ron, and Hermione as they made their way to the first class of the day—Care of Magical Creatures with other studnets. As the group descended the steps toward Hagrid’s hut, Adam engaged in his usual talk about magical beasts with the trio, they knew this will be the most interesting subject for him.
Eager for the lesson ahead, Adam trailed behind the group of students making their way toward Hagrid’s hut, the crisp morning air filled with chatter and anticipation. He knew Care of Magical Creatures will be one of his favorite class, and today’s session held a particular buzz of excitement. The Gryffindors would be sharing the lesson with the Slytherins, a combination that often led to tension—or entertainment, depending on how the day unfolded.
Hagrid stood at the front, towering as usual with his thick, moleskin coat and wild hair framing his broad grin. His eyes twinkled with barely-contained enthusiasm as he clapped his hands together. “Right then! Got summat real special fer yeh today,” he announced, his booming voice carrying across the clearing.
The students gathered around, and almost immediately, several struggled to control their copies of The Monster Book of Monsters. The enchanted books wriggled and snapped at the slightest touch, some even skittering across the ground in defiance. Adam spotted Neville wrestling with his copy, attempting to pin it down with little success.
Hagrid let out a hearty chuckle. “Aye, I told yeh—stroke the spine gently, like this.” He demonstrated by running a calloused hand along the length of his book, which settled instantly, purring faintly.
Adam smiled to himself, watching as most of the students copied Hagrid’s technique with varying degrees of success. Across the clearing, Malfoy’s familiar drawl broke through the rustling of pages.
“So, Potter,” Malfoy sneered, loud enough for half the class to hear. “Still having trouble with Dementors, are you? Must be hard knowing you faint at the sight of one. Maybe Hagrid should keep a bed ready for you here, just in case.” Crabbe and Goyle snickered dutifully behind him.
Adam’s gaze flicked toward Malfoy as he passed, his expression calm but voice edged with quiet warning. “Careful, Malfoy,” Adam muttered, meeting his eyes without breaking stride. “Keep tempting fate and you might end up meeting a real Dementor. Let’s see if you handle it any better.”
Malfoy’s smirk faltered slightly, and for a moment, he seemed to reconsider his next remark. Adam paid him no further attention, letting the weight of his words hang in the air.
As Hagrid waved the class forward, Adam’s interest grew. Hagrid led them deeper toward the edge of the Forbidden Forest, where sunlight broke through the trees, dappling a wide clearing. In the center stood Buckbeak, his silver feathers catching the light as he preened with dignified poise. His talons gleamed against the soft earth, and his amber eyes scanned the approaching crowd with intelligent curiosity.
Gasps rippled through the students, the sheer majesty of the Hippogriff leaving many in awe. While Harry, Ron, and Hermione exchanged knowing glances—having already encountered Eclipse, Adam’s family's Hippogriff—the rest of the class was clearly captivated by Buckbeak’s imposing yet graceful presence.
Adam's eyes instinctively drifted to the sky. His thoughts wandered for a brief moment, scanning the clouds overhead. Where’s Thor? he wondered. It wasn’t unusual for the thunderbird to remain elusive, but Adam couldn’t help but feel his absence keenly, as if expecting him to suddenly descend through the treetops.
Shaking the thought aside, Adam refocused as Hagrid began explaining the proper etiquette for approaching a Hippogriff. Buckbeak’s gaze shifted toward him briefly, and Adam gave a respectful nod in return.