Adam leaves the trio to conduct their own search and ventures deeper into the Room of Requirement on his own. Though he has spent countless hours in this magical space over the past couple of years for study and practice, exploring its hidden depths feels like stepping into a completely different world. The air carries a faint, musty scent, mixed with an underlying sharp tang of ancient magic, making him wonder how many secrets lie buried within.
Everywhere he looks, there are mountains of discarded objects: towering stacks of dusty books some magical even leaning precariously against each other, broken furniture with splintered legs and torn upholstery, and bottles both chipped and corked, their mysterious contents long evaporated or transformed. Among these relics, dragon eggshells gleam faintly under the dim light, rusting swords rest forgotten, and brooms worn down to their bristles lie in untidy piles. Adding to the chaos, flying catapults occasionally zip through the air, and fanged Frisbees hover menacingly, snapping at anything that gets too close. Adam sidesteps a particularly aggressive Frisbee, narrowly avoiding its sharp teeth. Despite the overwhelming volume of items, he knows instinctively that finding the founders’ portrait won’t be as easy as stumbling upon it amidst the clutter.
In a burst of hope, Adam raises his wand and mutters, “Accio portrait,” focusing on the image of the founders’ likeness in his mind. He waits, holding his breath, but nothing happens. The silence that follows feels almost mocking. Disappointed but not deterred, he decides to test the summoning charm on a nearby portrait with a cracked frame. With a simple flick of his wand, the picture soars toward him effortlessly. It lands in his hand with a dull thud, confirming his suspicion: either the portrait he seeks isn’t here, or it’s hidden under some enchantment requiring him to see it first.
As he ventures deeper, the environment changes subtly. The piles grow taller, casting strange, flickering shadows that play tricks on his eyes. Then, he notices signs of life among the junk. A group of mischievous pixies zips between the piles, their chittering laughter echoing through the space. Small magical insects with glittering shells scurry across broken glass and warped wood. Adam’s gaze softens as he spots a cluster of puffskeins nestled in a corner. The fluffy, spherical creatures chirp softly, their round eyes sparkling with curiosity. Unable to resist, Adam crouches down, letting them sniff his hand before gently stroking their soft fur. They hum in delight, and he feels a familiar warmth spread through him, a reaction he has come to expect from magical beasts. He also offers them some treats he always carries in his expanded bag and watches them munch on them cutely.
Later he pauses, letting the puffskeins nuzzle against his fingers, and wonders—not for the first time—why animals seem so drawn to him. Is it his magical signature, something inherently calming to creatures when he is reborn here, or does it tie back to the fading yet vividly clear fragments of his past life? The question lingers in his mind, an unsolved riddle he rarely has the time to dwell on. Shaking the thought away, Adam rises, brushing the dust off his robes. He steels himself and moves on, determined to comb through every corner.
After another hour of methodical searching, his efforts yield no sign of the portrait. Frustrated but resolute, he turns back, heading toward the meeting point to regroup with the others. The Room of Requirement still hums with its enigmatic energy.
When Adam returns, he finds Harry, Ron, and Hermione waiting near the cluttered entrance of the Room of Requirement. Each of them has something in hand: Hermione is clutching a thick magical book with intricate golden patterns on the cover, Harry has an extra broom slung over his shoulder, and Ron is turning a shiny trinket over in his fingers, its surface gleaming faintly in the dim light.
Hermione is the first to speak, her voice tinged with a mix of curiosity and excitement. “I didn’t find anything like your portrait,” she admits, holding the book a little higher, “but I did come across this fascinating book. This book will help further my knowledge on some unknown terms, and perhaps it will be useful in later years—most likely discarded here by a senior.” She looks at the cover again, her eyes practically gleaming.
Harry grins as he hoists the broom slightly. “I grabbed this old broom. It’s a bit rough around the edges, but it’s solid enough. Perfect for practice, even if it doesn’t quite match my Nimbus 2000.” He taps the handle with a nostalgic smile, clearly remembering their last Quidditch match.
Ron, meanwhile, holds up his trinket for them to see. It’s a small, decorative orb embedded with swirling colors that seem to move when touched by light. “This caught my eye,” he explains, his tone casual. “Thought I could give it to Mum. You know, a little peace offering. Might keep her from yelling at me for, well... everything.” His sheepish grin earns a laugh from the group, breaking the tension of their search.
When they turn to Adam, asking if he found anything, he shakes his head. “I’m here for one thing,” he says firmly. “If I need something else later, I’ll come back for it.” His tone is resolute, but there’s no frustration in his voice—only quiet determination.
As the group discusses their next steps, Adam suggests they regroup the following night to continue their search. The trio agrees without hesitation, sensing the importance of his mission even if the major details remain unspoken.
Together, they prepare to leave the Room of Requirement. Harry pulls out the invisibility cloak, the silvery fabric shimmering as he drapes it over them. The group huddles beneath it, their movements careful and synchronized as they navigate the labyrinthine corridors of the castle. Every creak of the floorboards and distant echo of footsteps sharpens their senses, but they remain undetected.
Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.
By the time they reach the portrait hole leading to Gryffindor Tower, the tension eases. They exchange quiet nods before slipping inside, the familiar warmth of the common room a welcome reprieve from the mysteries they’ve been unraveling. For Adam, however, the search will continue until he finds the portrait. He silently resolves to delve deeper into the Room’s mysteries.
Back in the dormitory, Adam steps inside quietly, careful not to disturb anyone who might already be asleep. The familiar hoot of Seraphina, greets him from her perch by the window. She’s nibbling at her food, the occasional crunch filling the otherwise silent room. Adam smiles and crosses the room to her, running his fingers gently through her sleek feathers. Seraphina leans into his touch, her golden eyes watching him with an almost knowing expression, as if sensing the weight on his mind.
“Hey, girl,” Adam whispers softly. “Still awake, huh?” Seraphina tilts her head in response, her beak brushing against his hand before returning to her meal.
Exhaling heavily, Adam collapses onto his bed, staring up at the canopy above. His mind races, replaying the events of the evening. The search for the founders’ portrait is proving to be more daunting than he had anticipated. The sheer scale of the Room of Requirement, combined with its unpredictable nature, makes the task feel overwhelming.
What bothers him most, however, is the lingering thought of Professor Phineas Nigellus Black’s own failure. Despite being one of the most resourceful and knowledgeable individuals to have ever roamed Hogwarts, even Nigellus had been unable to locate the elusive portrait. Adam can’t help but wonder: if someone with such unparalleled insight into the castle’s secrets couldn’t succeed, what chance does he have?
The doubt gnaws at him, but Adam refuses to let it consume him. Instead, he focuses on what he knows: he needs a new approach. Determined to think outside the box, he resolves to dig deeper into the Room’s nature and uncover its hidden mechanisms. Perhaps the solution lies in understanding why the portrait was hidden so thoroughly—or who might have wanted it to remain out of reach.
The thoughts swirl in his mind, weaving between possibilities and strategies, until exhaustion finally pulls him under. His breathing evens out, and the dormitory falls silent once more, save for the soft rustling of Seraphina adjusting her wings.
Adam wakes early, his mind already racing with thoughts about the search. After quickly freshening up, he makes his way through the quiet corridors to the Headmaster’s office. The familiar gargoyle guarding the entrance moves aside with a muttered password, and Adam ascends the spiral staircase.
As expected, Dumbledore is absent, likely off attending to some matter beyond the castle walls. However, Fawkes, the majestic phoenix, is wide awake. The bird’s fiery plumage glows softly in the morning light streaming through the tall windows. Adam approaches Fawkes with a gentle smile, offering him a few treats he had thoughtfully brought along.
“Morning, Fawkes,” Adam murmurs, stroking the phoenix’s sleek feathers. The bird trills softly, the sound soothing Adam’s nerves. There’s something profoundly calming about Fawkes’ serene presence, as if the phoenix embodies an ancient wisdom Adam can almost feel.
Turning his attention to the portraits lining the walls, Adam steps closer to Phineas Nigellus Black’s frame. The headmaster is already awake, his dark eyes sharp and calculating as he take in Adam’s arrival along the other potraits.
“I found the room and even started my search, just like you asked, Professor.” Adam begins, his tone steady despite the weight of the task.
Nigellus raises a single eyebrow, the movement subtle but loaded with meaning. “You found it quickly,” he remarks, his voice carrying both surprise and begrudging approval.
“I read about it in the library,” Adam replies with a casual shrug.
Nigellus nods slowly, his expression momentarily unreadable like the other potriats. Then, leaning forward in his frame, he fixes Adam with a penetrating gaze but says nothing.
Adam asks the Professor, 'If you don’t mind my asking... why do you need the portrait?”
A brief silence follows as Nigellus exchanges glances with the other headmasters’ portraits. The painted figures shift in their frames, some nodding slightly, others murmuring quietly. Finally, Nigellus speaks, his tone both measured and firm.
“Because, boy, it belongs here,” he says, gesturing broadly to the office around him. “As headmasters, we believe the founders’ presence would elevate this office. We have every significant figure in Hogwarts’ history represented here—why not them?”
Adam blinks, taken aback by the simplicity yet weight of the statement. Before he can respond, Nigellus smirks, a glint of mischief in his eyes.
“We could also learn a thing or two from them,” he continues. “And, frankly, we’re tired of talking to Dumbledore all the time. A little variety wouldn’t hurt.”
The other portraits murmur their agreement, some even chuckling softly. Adam suppresses a laugh but can’t help the grin that spreads across his face. “Fair enough,” he says with a nod. “I’ll keep looking.”
As he leaves the Headmaster’s office, descending the spiral staircase, he makes a mental note to explore alternative methods of uncovering the portrait’s location.
As Adam makes his way toward the Great Hall for breakfast, the warm morning light streaming through the castle windows does little to lift his spirits. Upon entering, he glances toward the Gryffindor table, expecting to see Harry, Ron, and Hermione. But the trio is nowhere in sight. Perhaps they’ve already left for their first class, he thinks.
His gaze drifts to the Slytherin table, where he spots Elara sitting with few of her friends. She looks as vibrant as ever, her dark hair catching the light in soft waves, but there’s something missing in her usually sharp eyes—a certain brightness that now seems dulled. The weight of her duties as Head Girl is already showing, even though it’s only been a few days since she took on the role.
Adam studies her quietly for a moment, making a mental note to step in and offer her some relief. Elara isn’t the type to take a break willingly, he knows. If someone doesn’t insist, she’ll keep pushing herself relentlessly. And knowing her, she’ll only listen if the suggestion comes from someone she considers family.
With a quiet sigh, Adam shifts his focus back to his own table and finishes his breakfast quickly, though his thoughts linger on Elara’s exhaustion.
Once he’s done, Adam gathers his things and heads off to his first class of the day. But in the back of his mind, he’s already planning how to give Elara the breather she clearly needs.