In the Gryffindor common room, the events of the night linger vividly in everyone’s mind. The warm glow of the crackling fireplace dances across the walls, casting long shadows over the mismatched furniture. Adam clutches the covered portrait tightly, his fingers brushing against the soft fabric draped over it. His eyes scan the faces of his friends, gratitude shining through his expression.

“Thank you for helping me with this,” Adam says, his voice earnest as he looks at each of them in turn.

Ron leans back in his chair, waving off the thanks with a casual shrug. “Oh, please. We didn’t do much—just poked around a bit and found some cool stuff for ourselves. Honestly, that room’s got everything! Did you see the mountain of Quidditch gear in the corner? I’m definitely going back for that broomstick later!”

Harry chuckles, leaning against the armrest of the sofa. “It’s an incredible place. I might start using it more often too. It could be perfect for training—no distractions, just space to practice.” There’s a spark of determination in his eyes, the thought already brewing in his mind.

Hermione remains seated at the far end of the couch, her hands resting on a book she had picked up earlier but hadn’t opened. A small, knowing smile plays on her lips as she listens. For the past year, she and Adam had spent countless nights in the Room of Requirement, diving deep into advanced magic that even their professors might find impressive. The thought warms her, but she doesn’t voice it, choosing instead to simply observe.

Adam gives them each a grateful nod. “Good night, everyone,” he says softly. Ron and Harry head off to their dormitory, exchanging a few muttered comments about how grand the Room of Requirement is and how many other wonders it might hold.

Before Hermione leaves, Adam stops her briefly by the foot of the staircase. “Can you have the list of questions ready by morning?” he asks, his tone quiet but purposeful. “I’ll be heading to the Headmaster’s office early to feed Fawkes.”

She nods, her brows furrowing slightly in thought. “Of course, I’ll have it ready for you,” she replies, her voice calm but tinged with curiosity about what he’s planning next.

With a parting smile, Adam makes his way up to his dormitory. He sets the covered portrait carefully against the wall beside his bed. His hand drops to Seraphina, who chirps softly and wraps her small, warm body around his wrist. Her presence soothes him, and as she coos contentedly, Adam feels his eyes grow heavy. The day’s events fade into the back of his mind as sleep pulls him under.

The next morning, Adam wakes early, energized by the promise of discovery. The cool morning air brushes against his face as he splashes water over it, shaking off the last vestiges of sleep. After freshening up and carefully wrapping the covered portrait in his arms, he heads down to the Gryffindor common room. There, Hermione waits near the fireplace, a piece of parchment clutched in her hand, her hair slightly disheveled from lack of sleep.

“Good morning,” Adam greets her, a warm smile spreading across his face.

Hermione returns the smile, though she suppresses a yawn. “Good morning. Here are the questions,” she says, handing him the parchment.

Adam takes the list and begins skimming it, his eyes moving quickly over Hermione’s meticulous handwriting. “Some are straightforward—basic information he knows—but others... well, even he doesn't entirely sure about the answers.” He nods thoughtfully, his mind already working through the possibilities. “These are great. I’ll ask the portrait what they’re able to answer.

Hermione waves a hand dismissively, though the faint circles under her eyes betray her exhaustion. “I stayed up late drafting those and woke up early to finish them. I think I’ll head back to bed for a bit. I could use a couple more hours of sleep.”

Adam chuckles softly, You deserve it. Sleep well, Hermione.

She bids him a tired but cheerful goodbye, retreating to the staircase that leads to the girls’ dormitory. Adam watches her go before turning toward the portrait hole. With the covered painting tucked securely under his arm, he steps out into the quiet corridors of Hogwarts.

As he makes his way through the castle, the early morning sunlight filters through the high, stained-glass windows, casting colorful patterns across the stone floors. Adam greets the castle’s portraits and ghosts along the way. Sir Cadogan tips his hat with a boisterous “Good luck, young squire!” while the Fat Friar offers a friendly wave. Others murmur polite greetings or engage him in cheerful, early-morning chatter.

Finally, Adam arrives at the familiar stone gargoyle guarding the Headmaster’s office. He says, the password rolling easily off his tongue. The gargoyle springs to life, twisting upward to reveal the spiraling staircase behind it.

Ascending the steps, Adam steps into the Headmaster’s office, the comforting scent of old parchment and polished wood greeting him. Fawkes, perched regally on his golden stand, lets out a soft trill in welcome. The phoenix’s crimson and gold feathers gleam in the sunlight streaming through the tall windows.

To Adam’s mild surprise, Dumbledore is seated at his desk, a large, ancient book open before him. The Headmaster looks up as Adam enters, his blue eyes twinkling behind his half-moon spectacles. “Good morning, Adam,” he says warmly, closing the book with a faint thud.

Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

“Good morning, Headmaster,” Adam replies respectfully, inclining his head. Not wanting to disturb Dumbledore further, he crosses the room to Fawkes, setting the portrait down carefully by the desk. From his bag, Adam retrieves a small dish of food for the phoenix, placing it on the stand. Fawkes chirps in appreciation, nuzzling Adam’s hand affectionately as he eats.

With Fawkes contentedly preening himself, Adam turns toward the wall where the portraits of former Headmasters and Headmistresses hang. The room feels unusually still, the typically talkative portraits watching him with quiet curiosity. A few of them stir, leaning closer as Adam approaches with the covered painting in hand.

Dumbledore, his curiosity clearly piqued, sets his book aside and folds his hands neatly in his lap, observing the scene with a hint of amusement. Adam clears his throat, addressing the silent audience with a formal tone.

“Professors,” he begins, lifting the covered portrait slightly for emphasis, “I’ve found the portrait from Room of requirement, just as you all suggested.”

The room erupts in cheers and applause from the assembled portraits and among them Professor Nigellus Black is most surprise. Even those who had been sleeping rouse with excitement, eager to see what Adam has brought, their enthusiasm unaffected by age.

Dumbledore approaches, his gaze sharp but kind. “A portrait, you say? And found in the Room of Requirement, no less?”

“Yes, Headmaster,” Adam replies, hesitating briefly. “I’ve been researching the Room of Requirement—how it was made. Along the way, I learned about Merlin’s nine forbidden spells and discovered that three of them were used in its creation. The portraits suggested searching for the Founders’ portrait, so I did.”

Dumbledore’s expression shifts to one of amazement. “Merlin’s forbidden spells… How extraordinary.” His piercing blue eyes lock onto Adam’s. “You didn’t break any rules, did you?”

Adam shakes his head quickly. “No, sir. I’ve been careful not to. Please don’t punish me.”

Dumbledore chuckles, a deep and warm sound. “No punishment, Adam. I’m merely intrigued. Let’s see what this portrait reveals.”

With great care, Adam removes the cloth covering the frame. The portrait beneath depicts four figures standing together, their regal postures unmistakable. As Adam and Dumbledore watch, the figures begin to move, their eyes turning toward their observers and the surrounding portraits.

The first to speak is Godric Gryffindor, his booming voice commanding attention. “For what purpose have we been awakened? I presume you require something from us.” His eyes settle on Dumbledore, dismissing Adam as just a boy.

Dumbledore steps forward, bowing his head slightly in respect. “It is an honor to meet you all. I am Albus Dumbledore, the current Headmaster of Hogwarts, and these”—he gestures to the surrounding portraits—“are my predecessors.”

The other founders stir in the frame, their gazes sharp and curious. Rowena Ravenclaw is the first to respond, her voice calm and measured. “I see. That explains much.”

Helga Hufflepuff smiles warmly, her eyes twinkling with a welcoming light. “It’s been so long since we’ve spoken to anyone. This is delightful.”

Salazar Slytherin remains silent for a moment, his sharp eyes never leaving Adam, studying him intently, like a serpent sizing up its prey.

Feeling the weight of the moment, Adam greets each founder respectfully, his heart racing with the significance of the situation. “My name is Adam Morgan. I’m the one who found you in the Room of Requirement.”

At this, Slytherin’s interest piques. His gaze flickers to Adam’s face, his expression changing just slightly. “A Morgan, you say?” he asks, his voice low but unmistakably intrigued. “I was acquainted with one of your ancestors. Your family played a significant role in helping us establish Hogwarts.”

Adam’s jaw drops in surprise, and he looks to Dumbledore for confirmation. “They did?”

The revelation shocks not only Adam but also the assembled portraits and Dumbledore himself. The room falls into a brief but palpable silence.

Slytherin smirks slightly, his lips curling in a small but knowing smile. “Indeed. They were influential, resourceful, and unwavering in their support. It seems their legacy lives on in you.”

Speechless, Adam stands there for a moment, trying to process the revelation. His mind races with questions, but he finally manages to speak. “Would it be all right if I asked you some questions? Some of them are mine, and others are from a friend of mine.”

The founders exchange glances, their expressions unreadable, but their eyes flicker with quiet deliberation. They begin to speak in hushed tones among themselves within the frame. Adam waits patiently, his hands clutching around the parchment Hermione had given him.

Finally, the four founders discuss among themselves for what feels like an eternity, their expressions shifting between contemplation and curiosity. At last, Rowena Ravenclaw, her brow slightly furrowed, speaks up.

“You may ask, Adam,” she says, her voice both regal and measured, “but only if it is something of true importance. Not any gibberish.”

Dumbledore, standing beside Adam, is also eager to ask a few questions, but he remains silent, waiting for the right moment. He knows the portrait will soon hang in his office, allowing him the opportunity to converse with them later.

Adam nods, understanding the gravity of the situation. He takes a deep breath, then starts with the more difficult questions Hermione had written down, knowing Rowena is likely the best one to answer. She answers each question thoughtfully and in detail, her voice carrying the weight of centuries of knowledge.

As Adam listens, he makes a mental note. He decides he would likely answer other simpler questions himself, not rely on them. He scribbles down the answers quickly.

Once he finishes, Adam looks up, a sense of resolution in his eyes. “I have only two questions left for all of you,” he says. “I want to know about the three forbidden spells from merlin 9 forbidden spells used in the creation of the Room of Requirement and how the Room of Requirement gained sentience.”

The four founders look deep into Adam’s eyes, their expressions unreadable. The silence stretches, heavy with unspoken words. After what feels like an eternity, Rowena Ravenclaw speaks again, her voice softer but still firm.

“It is acceptable for you to know, Adam,” she says. “But remember, never use those spells for anything wrong.”

Dumbledore, who has been watching intently, steps forward slightly. “I will look into this, and I will ensure that Adam does not misuse what he has learned,” he assures, his tone calm but filled with a quiet authority.

Even Dumbledore seems eager to learn more about the spells Adam inquired about for his own use.