It has been nearly two months since Adam’s quiet life continues, and in that time, his world has settled into a steady rhythm of careful preparation and subtle growth. His ventures into the Forbidden Forest, once a daunting undertaking, have become almost second nature. The forest’s dense, shadowy canopy no longer feels oppressive; instead, it shelters a network of unlikely friendships that Adam has nurtured with care and patience.

The Acromantula colony, which had initially regarded him as a potential threat—or perhaps a potential meal—has come to accept him as a familiar presence. The cautious clicks of their mandibles have softened into a neutral hum whenever he enters their territory with Hagrid. Adam has grown bold in their company, now feeding the smaller spiders by hand, earning their trust in ways few humans ever have. The larger Acromantulas, though still imposing, seem to regard him with a sense of reluctant respect, their glinting eyes observing him as an equal rather than an intruder.

His bond with the Grindylows in the Great Lake has deepened as well. Though their sharp claws and aggressive nature make them dangerous to most, Adam has found a way to coexist with them. Over weeks of carefully approaching their watery lairs, he’s earned their trust—or perhaps their curiosity. Now, when he wades into the lake without Argos, the Grindylows no longer lunge at him but swim around him in lazy, spiraling patterns, their eerie green eyes tracking his movements without hostility.

Amid these ventures, Adam’s studies into forbidden spells have been equally fruitful. The ancient tomes he’s uncovered in library reveal tantalizing fragments of knowledge about Merlin’s life and magic, each discovery like a piece of a vast, intricate puzzle.

Meanwhile, the Weasley twins’ burgeoning business venture has flourished beyond their wildest dreams, thanks to Adam’s discreet financial backing. Unlike the cozy, modest shop Adam remembers from books, their store in Diagon Alley is bold and ambitious, a vibrant centerpiece in the bustling wizarding marketplace. The Morgan family’s influence has smoothed the bureaucratic hurdles, allowing Fred and George to secure prime real estate and attract a steady stream of customers. The twins’ infectious enthusiasm is palpable, their plans expanding with each success. Talk of opening branches in Hogsmeade and even abroad in future, and Adam watches their progress with quiet satisfaction.

Despite her demanding schedule as Head Girl, Elara has managed to carve out moments of joy in Adam’s company. On weekends, she joins him on his excursions into the Forbidden Forest, her sharp wit and keen observational skills adding a lively dynamic to their explorations. Together, they’ve interacted with his growing circle of magical beasts, from the mischievous Nifflers to the wary Acromantulas.

Back at the castle, Adam continues his visits to the founders’ portraits, though he has grown more cautious in his interactions. He measures his words carefully, aware of the lingering suspicions of Rowena Ravenclaw and the sharp observations of Salazar Slytherin. Each conversation feels like a chess match, with Adam guarding his intentions behind a veil of casual curiosity. Yet, even as he deflects their probing questions, he absorbs their knowledge, adding their wisdom to his growing arsenal.

It’s Halloween morning, and the Great Hall is alive with enchantment. Floating jack-o'-lanterns sway gently, casting a warm orange glow over the tables, while enchanted bats flit through the enchanted ceiling, their shadows dancing over the bewitched sky. The usual hum of morning chatter is louder today, filled with excitement for the festivities to come. Adam sits at the Gryffindor table, surrounded by the comforting bustle of his housemates.

The feast laid out before them is a spectacle in itself. Pumpkin-shaped pancakes steam invitingly, their edges dusted with cinnamon sugar, while ghoul-shaped sausages grin with eerie charm. Bat-wing toast crackles slightly as though it might flutter away, and candy corn-filled pastries ooze golden sweetness with each bite. Hovering just above the table are ghostly meringues, their fluffy forms floating as if carried by an unseen wind. Adam pours himself a goblet of pumpkin juice, the rich, spiced aroma mingling with the scent of roasted nuts and caramelized apples that fills the air.

As Adam chats with Trio, he can’t help but notice the subtle tension etched into Hermione’s usually composed expression. She hides it well, her words sharp and focused, but Adam knows the signs. The relentless weight of her overstuffed schedule—juggling electives and homework is beginning to show.

Ron, by contrast, is the picture of unbothered cheerfulness, shoveling a plateful of bat-wing toast into his mouth with gusto. “Brilliant, isn’t it?” he mumbles through a mouthful of food. “Best breakfast of the year, I reckon.”

Harry, however, looks troubled again, his fork idly pushing a ghoul-shaped sausage across his plate. His green eyes are distant, clouded by whatever burden is weighing on him today. Adam doesn’t need to ask to know it likely has something to do with Sirius Black and Dementors looming over his life.

Determined to lift their spirits, Adam leans forward, his tone bright and conspiratorial. “Right, we can’t have you all moping about today, not on Halloween.”

Adam with a playful glint in his eye. “You’ll love our first class today,” he says, directing the comment at Hermione and Harry. “Care of Magical Creatures. I’ve already spoken to Hagrid. He’s got something special planned to get us all in the spirit.”

Hermione raises an eyebrow, her curiosity momentarily breaking through her fatigue. “Something special?”

“Don’t tell me it’s another Blast-Ended Skrewt Hagrid loves to show off as his creation,” Harry says, a faint smile tugging at his lips despite himself.

“Not quite,” Adam replies, smirking. “I made sure it’s something less likely to explode in our faces.”

Ron snickers, and even Hermione’s lips quirk upward in amusement. The faint tension at the table begins to ease.

True to his word, Hagrid introduces the students to a fascinating magical creature: the Diricawl, which is typically taught to sixth years. Many have seen them, but learning how to take care of them is another matter. The students gather in a front of Hagrid’s hut, and he leads them to a clearing where a flock of plump, fluffy-feathered, flightless birds grazes peacefully in the grass. The Diricawls are much gentler than most had expected, their vibrant plumage shimmering faintly under the autumn sun. Their soft cooing adds a tranquil soundtrack to the lesson, captivating everyone.

Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.

“These here are Diricawls,” Hagrid announces proudly, gesturing toward the peculiar birds. “Native to Mauritius, they’re pretty special, these little fellas. They’ve got the ability to disappear an’ reappear at will, which is dead useful when they’re tryin’ to escape predators. Mind yeh, though—they’re not immune to Levioso spells, so keep that in mind if yeh ever need to handle one in a pinch. Oh, and their eggs—” he holds up a large green egg, nestled in a padded basket—“are as fragile as they come. So don’t go droppin’ one, unless yeh want a real mess on yer hands.”

Hagrid proceeds to demonstrate how to approach the Diricawls, crouching low and speaking in a voice far softer than his usual booming tone. “Slow an’ steady. No sudden movements. Show ‘em yeh mean no harm.”

The students follow cautiously, expecting the Diricawls to scatter at the sudden influx of people. To their surprise, the creatures react differently—running directly toward them instead of away. As the birds sprint closer, some vanish in puffs of shimmering air, only to reappear a few feet away. The unexpected behavior causes a ripple of unease among the group, but Hagrid waves off their concerns.

“Don’t panic! They’re harmless, I promise. Diricawls wouldn’t hurt a fly.”

Adam stands slightly apart from the others, his expression calm yet watchful. He understands why Diricawls behave this way. Taking a quiet step back, he removes himself from the group, and—just as he predicted—the birds shift their attention entirely to him. The entire flock veers off course, surrounding Adam with an air of quiet expectancy.

As usual, one Diricawl, its feathers shimmering with hints of deep blue, hops onto Adam’s shoulder before settling on his head, perching there as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

Hagrid chuckles, his booming laugh filling the air. 'That’ll make my job a mite easier,' he says, handing out small bunches of flowers and fruits to the students. 'Go on, give it a try. Offer ’em a bite and see if yeh can give one a pet.'

The initial hesitation among the students fades as they observe the Diricawls’ gentle nature. Hermione steps forward cautiously, holding out a patch of flowers. A nearby Diricawl sniffs the offering before delicately plucking a flower from her hand. Her lips curve into a rare, genuine smile, and Harry—encouraged by her success—follows suit. Even Ron, who had initially hung back, manages to coax one of the birds close enough to feed.

The mood grows lighter as the students engage more freely. Laughter erupts when someone tries to pick up a Diricawl, only for it to vanish in a flash and reappear a few steps away. The birds seem to enjoy the game, repeating the trick whenever a student grows too bold.

Hagrid uses the moment to impart more knowledge. “Now, here’s somethin’ yeh should know—Muggles think these birds are extinct. But they’re not, o’ course. The Diricawls vanish to escape danger, which is why no Muggle’s seen one in centuries. It’s a bit like how we wizards Apparate, but they’ve been doin’ it naturally for ages. The International Confederation o’ Wizards decided to let Muggles think they’re gone—it’s a reminder of what happens when creatures are hunted to near extinction.”

As the lesson draws to a close, Adam gently lifts the Diricawl perched on his head, letting it hop back down to the ground. It lingers near him for a moment before waddling off to rejoin the flock. Hermione and Harry seem noticeably more cheerful as the group heads back toward the castle for their next class—Potions.

Snape, as usual, wastes no time targeting Harry with his cutting remarks, but something about Harry is different today. He brushes off Snape’s barbs with uncharacteristic ease, as if buoyed by the lightness of the morning’s events.

After lunch, Astronomy brings the day’s lessons to a close. The golden hues of sunset bathe the castle grounds as students scatter to their dormitories or late afternoon electives. Dinner in the Great Hall is a feast to rival the morning’s spread, with Halloween-themed dishes and decorations more elaborate than ever. By the end of the meal, the students are well and truly sated, retreating to their common rooms in a satisfied haze of laughter.

Adam, however, knows that tonight will not end peacefully. Sirius Black, driven by his unyielding determination to protect Harry, will make his move. Adam has no doubts about Sirius’s pure intentions, but after years in Azkaban, the man’s judgment seems clouded by desperation. Reckless, Adam thinks grimly. But reckless or not, it won’t change the events to come.

As the trio and Adam make their way back to the Gryffindor common room after dinner, the castle feels unusually quiet. When they reach the staircase, the calm shatters. A crowd of students has gathered, their voices rising in confusion and fear. The Fat Lady’s portrait is missing from her frame, which now bears deep, jagged slashes across its canvas.

Elara and Percy Weasley are at the forefront, trying to restore order, but the panic is spreading like wildfire. “Please, everyone, stay calm!” Elara’s voice is firm, though her expression betrays her concern.

It doesn’t take long for Dumbledore to arrive. His presence is like a wave of stillness sweeping over the students, silencing their chatter and drawing their attention. With his piercing gaze and calm authority, he quickly assesses the situation.

Moments later, the Fat Lady is found trembling within a different portrait. Her usual haughty demeanor is gone, replaced by sheer terror. “Sirius Black!” she cries, her voice quivering. “He attacked me! I wouldn’t let him in, so he... he slashed my portrait!”

A ripple of shock courses through the crowd. Harry’s face drains of color, his hands clenching into fists. Adam notices the flash of fear in his friend’s eyes but says nothing.

Dumbledore’s tone is steady as he issues swift orders. “Seal the castle gates. No one is to leave or enter until further notice. All students will sleep in the Great Hall tonight for their safety.”

Under the careful watch of the prefects and professors, the students are herded to the Great Hall. Cots and blankets appear, and the younger students cling to their older housemates for reassurance. The hall, usually filled with laughter and the clinking of silverware, feels heavy with tension.

Adam claims a spot near Harry and Ron, spreading his blanket on the floor. “Don’t worry,” he says quietly to Harry, keeping his tone calm. “Dumbledore’s here. Sirius Black won’t get to you.”

Harry nods, though his jaw remains tight. His mind is clearly racing.

Ron, always eager to lighten the mood—or perhaps hide his own nerves—pipes up. “Let him come! I’ll fight him myself. I’ve got my wand and everything!” He pulls it out as if to emphasize his point, though it shakes slightly in his grip.

Adam can’t help but suppress a chuckle. “Bold of you, Ron,” he says, smirking. “But I’d rather you didn’t go dueling escaped convicts tonight.”

The corners of Harry’s mouth twitch upward, ever so slightly. It’s a brief break in his tension.

Around them, the murmur of students continues, a mix of whispered theories and nervous reassurances. Adam lies back on his cot, staring up at the enchanted ceiling, which reflects a cloudy night sky. His thoughts drift to Sirius Black. The man’s intentions might be noble, but his approach could easily endanger everyone—including Harry.

As the hours pass, exhaustion settles over the Great Hall. One by one, the students drift off to sleep, their earlier unease softened by the quiet comfort of being surrounded by friends. Adam, too, succumbs to the pull of sleep, the hum of whispered voices fading into the background.