The warm afternoon air rushes past Adam as he soars high above the training grounds, his broom slicing effortlessly through the sky. The Flying class is nearing its end, the golden sunlight casting long shadows over the grass below. As students perform their final laps, a sudden flash of movement in the distance catches Adam’s eye.
Thor glides toward him, his powerful wings sending ripples through the air with each slow, deliberate stroke. His golden-brown feathers shimmer in the sunlight, streaked with occasional flickers of static electricity. Adam blinks in surprise—Thor rarely appears during the day anymore. Ever since the creature discovered the Forbidden Forest, he has taken to vanishing for long stretches, returning only when he pleases.
Slowing his broom, Adam hovers in place as Thor reaches him, beating his wings once before coming to a graceful halt in midair. The sheer force of it sends a gust of wind rippling through Adam’s robes.
“How are you, buddy?” Adam calls out, a grin tugging at his lips. “It’s been a while. I take it you like the Forbidden Forest a bit too much?”
Thor lets out a deep, crackling chirp, his electric-blue eyes gleaming with intelligence. Adam reaches into the enchanted pouch strapped to his waist, feeling around for the familiar coolness of preserved food. With a practiced motion, he pulls out a few dead ferrets and tosses them into the air.
Thor moves like lightning—his beak snaps shut around the first ferret before the others even begin their descent. The Thunderbird lets out a contented cry before swallowing his meal whole, his feathers crackling faintly with residual energy.
Adam watches him thoughtfully. “You know, I’d love to know what keeps you so occupied in there,” he muses, glancing toward the looming expanse of the Forbidden Forest. “One day, I’ll have to follow you and find out.”
As if understanding, Thor ruffles his wings and lets out another deep-throated chirp before tilting his head skyward. Then, with a single, powerful stroke, he surges forward in a blur of movement, disappearing into the dense canopy of the forest below. Adam watches until the Thunderbird is out of sight.
The lesson ends soon after, and Adam lands smoothly, his thoughts still drifting toward Thor. Deciding to clear his mind, he makes his way toward the Black Lake.
As expected, Mip is already waiting for him at the water’s edge, a wooden bucket filled with fresh fish by his feet. The devoted house-elf gives a small bow before disappearing, allowing Adam to take over.
Kneeling by the shore, Adam grabs a fish and tosses it into the water. A deep ripple spreads across the surface, followed by the unmistakable appearance of a massive, curling tentacle. Argos, emerges just enough to accept the offering, his thick appendage wrapping gently around the fish before slipping beneath the waves.
“Glad to see you too, Argos,” Adam murmurs as he tosses another fish.
Once the last fish is gone, the giant squid gives one final, lazy flick of a tentacle before vanishing beneath the lake’s surface.
Satisfied, Adam dusts off his robes and makes his way back toward Gryffindor Tower. The castle corridors are lively with students finishing up their evening activities, but he doesn’t spot the trio along the way—they’re likely off handling their own affairs. He doesn't mind the solitude.
Back in his dormitory, he stretches out on his bed, allowing himself a brief nap to recharge.
By the time he wakes, the sun has dipped below the horizon. With a yawn and a stretch, Adam rises, straightens his robes, and makes his way down to join the others for dinner in great hall.
At the Gryffindor table, Adam spots Harry and Ron already halfway through their meal, but Hermione is conspicuously absent. Sliding into his seat, he helps himself to a serving of roast beef and potatoes before asking, “Where’s Hermione?”
Harry, mid-bite, barely glances up before answering, “Library. Studying, as usual.”
Adam nods in understanding. It’s hardly surprising—if there’s one place Hermione can be found when not in class, it’s buried in books.
Ron groans loudly, stabbing his fork into his mashed potatoes. “I swear, both of you and your constant studying. One day, Hogwarts will just be a pile of books with you two buried underneath.”
Harry chuckles at Ron’s dramatics, shaking his head. “At least then, Hermione would probably be happy.”
Adam smirks, amused by the banter, but he doesn’t linger on the conversation. Instead, he turns his focus to his meal, eating efficiently while keeping an ear out for any interesting chatter around the Hall. The usual gossip floats about—Slytherins complaining about Gryffindors, third-years grumbling about upcoming test, and a heated debate further down the table about whether a Hippogriff could take on a Hungarian Horntail.
Once dinner concludes, Adam parts ways with Harry and Ron, weaving through the bustling corridors alone as he makes his way back to Gryffindor Tower. The Fat Lady swings open at the password, and he steps inside the common room, the warmth of the crackling fireplace instantly greeting him. The space is lively with students unwinding from the day—some playing chess, others buried in homework, and a few first-years chatting excitedly about their first Flying class.
Ignoring the hum of activity, Adam heads straight to his study desk in his dorm. He unrolls a fresh parchment, dipping his quill into ink before carefully documenting the information he gathered from Professor Binns earlier today. Each name and historical reference is written with precision, ensuring nothing is lost to memory.
Once satisfied, he sets his quill aside and turns to Seraphina. She perches on the windowsill, eyes gleaming with quiet intelligence as if already anticipating his request. Adam secures the rolled parchment to her leg, stroking her soft fur before instructing, “Take this to Hogsmeade.”
Seraphina lets out a soft hoot, one Adam has long grown accustomed to—a signal for him to provide her with a few treats before she goes. With a graceful leap, she disappears into the night, somehow blending seamlessly with the shadows.
With his message sent, Adam finally allows himself a moment to relax. He reaches for the thick tome he borrowed from the Restricted Section—The History of Magic by Ulric Hexweaver. Normally, Madam Pince is reluctant to lend out such rare books outside of library, but she had made an exception for Adam, recognizing his unwavering dedication to scholarly pursuits.
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Flipping through the aged pages, he immerses himself in the accounts of ancient wizards—their customs, their primitive yet potent spells, and the ways in which magic was woven into early civilizations. Though the book does not extend beyond the 1st century AD, the wealth of knowledge it offers is invaluable. The more Adam reads, the more he understands just how much magical history has been lost to time, buried beneath centuries of secrecy and war.
Outside, the castle settles into quiet. One by one, his dorm mates return from the common room, their voices fading as they retreat to bed. Adam continues reading, candlelight flickering over the parchment-like pages, until the clock nears 11 PM.
Finally, he closes the book with a soft thump, exhaling as he rubs his temples. With one last glance at the fading embers in the lamp, Adam rises from his chair and prepares for the night ahead.
At the appointed hour, Adam and Hermione slip silently through the dimly lit corridors of Hogwarts under a Concealment Spell, their footsteps barely making a sound against the ancient stone floors. When they finally reach the familiar stretch of hallway, Adam paces three times before the blank wall, focusing on their need.
Almost instantly, the Room of Requirement reveals itself, its concealed door materializing before them. They step inside without hesitation and immediately get to work.
Hours slip by unnoticed as they refine their magic—Hermione, meticulous as always, delves into theory with unwavering focus, while Adam prioritizes practical applications, testing spells with measured precision. He casts experimental charms, adjusting wand movements and incantations as he goes, while Hermione offers insights on the theoretical foundations behind each spell’s mechanics.
By the time they decide to leave, fatigue tugs at their limbs. Stepping back into the cool night air of the corridor, they make their way toward the Gryffindor common room. At the foot of the girls’ staircase, Hermione pauses, glancing at Adam with an expression of quiet determination.
“Adam,” she begins, keeping her voice low. “I need to speak to the Founders’ portraits.”
Adam tilts his head slightly. “Why?”
Hermione folds her arms, clearly choosing her words carefully. “There are things about Hogwarts—its magic, its history—that I feel they might know. Things that aren’t in books.” Her gaze sharpens. “I know you visit Dumbledore’s office every morning to feed Fawkes. And since he allows it… could you take me with you tomorrow?”
Adam doesn’t hesitate. “No worries.”
A relieved smile crosses Hermione’s face. “Thank you.”
With that, she ascends the staircase to her dormitory, leaving Adam to retreat to his own.
At dawn, Adam wakes with practiced ease, stretching away the remnants of sleep before freshening up. By the time he heads downstairs, Hermione is already waiting in the common room, looking eager as ever. Her eyes are bright with anticipation, and she’s clutching a small notebook—clearly ready for whatever the morning holds.
Together, they make their way through the quiet castle toward Dumbledore’s office. The corridors, bathed in the soft glow of the early morning light.
As expected, the Headmaster isn’t present. Adam, familiar with the routine, moves toward Fawkes’ perch, pulling a small dish from the pouch and offering the phoenix his morning meal.
Hermione, meanwhile, wastes no time. She steps toward the grand portraits of former Headmasters, inclining her head respectfully before addressing them with a careful but determined voice.
The conversation that follows is… selective. While the portraits acknowledge her curiosity, many of her inquiries remain unanswered. The Founders, it seems, believe that certain knowledge is not yet meant for her. Despite her frustration, Hermione maintains her composure, taking mental notes on everything they do share.
Adam watches quietly, his task with Fawkes already complete. When Hermione finally steps back, appearing both satisfied and mildly frustrated, he seizes the opportunity to steer the conversation toward his own interests.
Turning to Rowena Ravenclaw’s , he asks, “May I ask you something apart from wizards?”
The regal witch raises an arched brow, intrigued. “Go on.”
Adam’s gaze sharpens, his voice steady. “I’ve always been fascinated by magical beasts. Did you come across any mythical creatures in your lifetime?”
Rowena’s expression shifts ever so slightly—a flicker of amusement, perhaps.
Rowena regards Adam thoughtfully before gesturing toward the still-snoring Godric Gryffindor. “For that, you should ask Godric.”
Rolling her eyes at his lack of decorum, she raises her voice. “Godric.”
The former warrior stirs with a grumble, stretching inside the frame before blinking blearily at them. His eyes flick between Rowena and Adam before settling into alertness. “What is it?”
Adam repeats his question, and Godric strokes his beard, mulling over the inquiry. Then, with a glint of excitement in his gaze, he leans forward. “Ah, magical beasts… now that’s a tale worth telling. I encountered quite a few in my travels—some rarer and more mysterious than anything written in books.”
His voice lowers slightly, drawing Adam and Hermione closer as he begins to list them:
* Hidebehind – A nocturnal predator that can shift its shape to always remain unseen, lurking just beyond a traveler’s vision. Many disappearances in dense forests have been blamed on this creature.
* Rougarou – A dog-like beast with werewolf similarities, known to roam the swamps of North America. Highly intelligent and deadly, its blood is rumored to be an ingredient in Ilvermorny’s most powerful wand cores.
* Hodag – A rare magical beast with glowing red eyes and jagged spikes along its back. It is said to emit an eerie hiss that unsettles even the bravest of wizards. Little is known about its true abilities.
* Snallygaster – A fearsome hybrid of bird and reptile, its beak lined with metallic fangs. It preys on unwary wanderers, swooping down from the skies without warning.
* Noctivern (Shadow Serpent) – A ghostly serpent with translucent scales, silver-glowing eyes, and wings made of shifting darkness. It slithers between shadows, vanishing in one place and reappearing in another. Its breath causes temporary blindness.
* Emberstag (Flame-Horned Stag) – A magnificent creature with antlers of burning embers, leaving trails of soot in its wake. Some say its presence is an omen of great change.
* Duskrake (Shadow Harvester) – A six-legged feline covered in black feathers, with glowing violet eyes. It can phase through solid objects and absorb negative emotions, leaving those it touches drained yet strangely at peace.
* Veilstrider (The Spectral Traveler) – A horse-like entity with transparent skin, revealing swirling galaxies within. It moves between the living world and the Veil of Death, ferrying lost souls to their final destination.
* Brinefiend (Abyssal Horror) – A skeletal sea creature with glowing blue tendrils and sunken, empty eyes. It sings an unearthly melody that hypnotizes sailors, luring them into the ocean’s depths—never to be seen again. It is whispered that its song reveals deep, forbidden truths.
Godric finishes with a smirk, eyes twinkling. “Of course, these are only the ones I encountered or heard of. There are countless more, lurking in forgotten corners of the world. Even I don’t know them all.”
Adam is stunned. His pulse quickens at the revelation, his mind racing with possibilities. So many unknown magical creatures—so many mysteries still hidden in the shadows of history.
Hermione, too, looks fascinated, though her curiosity takes on a more analytical edge. “And yet, hardly any of these are documented in modern magical bestiaries…” she muses aloud.
“Most never will be,” Godric states simply. “Some things prefer to remain unseen.”
Adam clenches his fist in excitement. If these creatures exist, he will find them. There’s still so much to learn—so much magic beyond the reach of textbooks and lectures. One day, perhaps, he will even witness them himself.
With their thoughts still brimming with newfound knowledge, Adam and Hermione bid farewell to the portraits and step out of Dumbledore’s office. As they walk back toward the Gryffindor common room, Adam finds himself already planning ahead.
But for now, breakfast awaits, and with it, the first class of the day.