The morning sun spilled golden light through the grand windows of the castle as the Adam sat attentively in his etiquette class. His mother’s calm, measured voice guided him through the intricacies of noble manners and family traditions, a routine he was slowly becoming familiar with. Though it often felt tedious, he couldn’t deny the underlying value in understanding the customs of the world he’d been born into. It made him feel a sense of responsibility and belonging, and his mother’s approval was a quiet reward.

As the lesson wrapped up, his mother surveyed him with satisfaction. “I think that will be all for today,” she said, giving him a small nod. “Remember to practice what I taught you, even when no one is watching.”

He nodded seriously, knowing she meant it as more than just a lesson in etiquette. These small hints made him realize that each teaching moment held some importance . After lunch, he was given the freedom to explore the castle, with Wimble the house-elf by his side, as usual. Today, however, he had a clear objective: he was allowed to roam certain areas to strengthen his memory of the castle’s layout after the previous burst of exploration. This meant he could finally revisit some of the rooms he’d longed to see again, his mind teeming with curiosity. He visited the labs and greenhouse as before, but there was nothing new. The rest of the rooms are still shut, as always. He wants to know what mysteries they are hiding.

The library was his most frequent destination. He’d grown attached to its atmosphere—the rows of towering bookshelves, the smell of parchment, and the faint glow from enchanted chandeliers. His young mind absorbed knowledge with incredible speed, and he often found himself lost in the pages, transported to places and ideas beyond his years. This afternoon was no different, as he climbed a small ladder, carefully positioning it to return a book to a high shelf.

He reached up, stretching his arm just enough to slot the book back into place, but at that moment, his foot slipped. Panic surged through him as he lost balance, his heart racing as he braced himself for the inevitable fall. Instinctively, he shut his eyes, preparing for the crash, but… nothing. When he slowly opened his eyes, he gasped—he was floating just inches above the floor, suspended in a moment of pure wonder and disbelief.

It was unlike anything he’d ever felt. His entire body was weightless, as if lifted by an invisible hand. Shocked, he let out a small yelp, the sound echoing through the library, drawing the attention of Wimble, who came running, eyes wide with worry.

“Young master!” Wimble gasped, both surprised and relieved, glancing between the Adam and the ground below him.

Just as suddenly as it happened, the Adam felt himself lowering, gently landing back on the floor, almost as if something had cushioned his descent. He took a deep breath, still unsure what had just occurred, and looked at Wimble with wide eyes.

“What… was that?” he whispered, his voice laced with a mixture of excitement and fear.

Wimble gave a small nod, his expression one of understanding. “It’s quite normal, young master. Many young wizards and witches experience accidental magic, especially in moments of strong emotion.”

A spark of excitement lit up within him, but he decided to keep this incident quiet from his family for now, not wanting to draw unnecessary attention. But Wimble, ever vigilant and loyal, had other ideas. By evening, word had spread to his family about the accidental magic. At dinner, his father looked upon him with pride, while his mother and Elara wore a look of both worry and admiration.

“This is an exciting moment for you,” his father said, his tone proud, “but it is also a reminder to be cautious. Magic, especially uncontrolled magic, can be unpredictable.”

His mother added gently, “From now on, Wimble will stay even closer, and you should be careful. Accidental magic can happen again.” Though her words were laced with concern, the Adam understood her worry, and he felt comforted by the house-elf’s presence by his side.

Next day he wandered out to the gardens and spent time with his fire crab friend. The creature had grown considerably, its shell now bright and full of life, almost glowing with a fiery hue. The bond they had formed over time was unmistakable, and the fire crab’s gentle scuttling and occasional puffs of flame made him laugh. For a while, they played together, the Adam guiding the crab around as they circled the garden.

As he looked up, a large, familiar shape caught his eye—the majestic Hippogriff of his family soared above, gliding gracefully against the darkening sky. To his surprise, the creature noticed him and descended, landing a few feet away. Remembering the basic etiquette, he bowed respectfully and waited, his heart racing with excitement. The Hippogriff dipped its head in response, and with his pulse pounding in his chest, he slowly stepped forward, gently touching its feathers. They were sleek and smooth, the Hippogriff’s intelligent eyes watching him with a silent, dignified curiosity.

One day, he thought with a thrill of anticipation, he’d grow big enough to ride such a creature. Until then, he contented himself with their brief, magical encounter, treasuring the thought of future adventures.

Stolen story; please report.

The days continued quietly until one afternoon, he overheard his father discussing a trip to Diagon Alley with his grandfather. His heart leapt at the prospect; he had read so much about Diagon Alley and could barely contain his excitement at the thought of visiting it.

He wasted no time running to his father’s study, where he looked up at his father with wide, pleading eyes. “Can I come with you? I promise I’ll behave!”

His father chuckled, though he gave no immediate answer. “That depends on your mother’s permission. If she allows it, then yes, you may come.”

Determined, he spent the rest of the day trying to convince his mother. He followed her around, pleading with his best arguments until, at last, she relented, though on the condition that Wimble and several guards would accompany him. Satisfied with her terms, he couldn’t wait for the next morning to arrive.

The following morning, he woke with a sense of exhilaration, feeling as though he’d hardly slept at all. After a quick breakfast, his father led him to a room in the castle he’d never entered before. The room was grand and dimly lit, with polished stone walls and an ornate ceiling adorned with delicate, swirling patterns. A large dragon statue stood in the center, a powerful and majestic symbol of his family’s heritage, and from it emanated a faint but palpable magical aura.

Sensing his son’s curiosity, Adam’s father gave him an approving nod and began explaining the various magical methods wizards used to travel.

"First, there’s the Floo Network," his father began, his voice deep and steady. “This allows wizards to travel through fireplaces connected by enchanted Floo powder. You’d simply toss in the powder, say the location clearly, and step into the flames. It’s instant, but you have to be careful—pronounce the destination wrong, and you might end up somewhere unexpected.”

Adam nodded, imagining the green flames he had read about, picturing himself stepping boldly into them.

"Then, there’s Apparition," his father continued, “but that’s only for advanced witches and wizards. It requires a license and practice. It’s fast, but dangerous if not done right. Many have splinched themselves—a term for leaving a part of oneself behind." He gave a little chuckle as Adam's face scrunched up in alarm.

Adam then asked about their family’s carriage, his mind already filled with tales of magical vehicles.

"Ah, yes," his father said with a smile. "We have a family carriage enchanted to behave much like the Knight Bus. It’s swift, responsive, and can squeeze through the narrowest of streets. Our carriage, though, is much quieter and fitted with protections to ensure complete privacy."

Lastly, he pointed to the dragon statue in the center of the room. “This statue is a Portkey. It will transport us directly to our destination. You’ll feel a strong tug, like you’re being pulled by your navel, but don’t worry—it’s completely safe. Just keep hold until we reach the other side.”

Taking a steadying breath, he reached out and touched the dragon statue alongside his father. The sensation that followed was disorienting, a feeling of being tugged sharply through space. His stomach lurched, and he had to focus hard to keep his breakfast down. When the sensation stopped, he opened his eyes to find himself in a lavish room, richly decorated with furniture and tapestries. This must be the family’s office on the other side of the portkey network.

It was a richly furnished hall, and around them, various wizards and witches—clerks, assistants, and other staff—stopped to greet his father with respectful bows and welcoming smiles. Adam nodded politely to each of them, though his gaze was already drifting toward the doors, eager to see Diagon Alley.

“Father,” he ventured after a moment, “may I explore Diagon Alley? Just for a little while?”

His father considered him, then glanced at Wimble, who nodded eagerly. “Alright. But take Wimble and a few of the guards with you. Stay safe, and don’t wander into any unfamiliar alleys.”

With a grin, Adam thanked him and followed Wimble out, trailed by a few stern-looking wizards. Stepping into Diagon Alley for the first time was nothing short of enchanting.

Shops of all kinds lined the cobbled street, their windows brimming with fascinating and sometimes odd displays. Madam Malkin’s showcased the latest robes, shimmering and pristine. Quality Quidditch Supplies featured broomsticks that hovered just above the shelves, enticing every passerby to stop and look. Adam’s eyes sparkled as he took in Flourish and Blotts, stacked to the ceiling with books, and he made a note to visit there last to pick up a few interesting volumes for himself.

Everywhere he looked, wizards bustled about, chattering and shopping, while children laughed and tugged their parents along from shop to shop. He marveled at the displays outside Ollivanders—rows of neat, labeled wand boxes—and imagined the day he’d step inside to receive his own wand.

He drifted toward a small stand selling Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans and Chocolate Frogs and picked up a selection of sweets for himself and his family. A small purchase from Eeylops Owl Emporium caught his attention next; he chose a tiny bag of owl treats, intending to offer them to his father’s prized owl back at the estate.

Next, he ventured into the Magical Menagerie, captivated by the variety of creatures within. He peered into cages of sleek Kneazles, a pair of mischievous Nifflers, and even a few pygmy puffs, who squeaked as they bounced around in their cages. Though he’d read about many of these creatures, seeing them up close was a wonder in itself. Remembering his fire crab friend, he purchased a small, enchanted toy—a trinket that glowed faintly, which he knew would delight his crab companion. He placed all the items from his shopping into the Extension Charm bag that his mother had provided for this trip.

After two hours of roaming, laughing, and collecting little mementos of his day, he met back with his father as planned. His father gave an approving nod at his bag of treats and trinkets, his eyes gleaming with pride at Adam’s restraint and maturity.

"Now," his father said, "it’s time for our visit to Gringotts.”

On the way to Gringotts, he thought about what the goblins looked like and whether he would get a chance to see the Ukrainian Ironbelly dragon in the lower levels. Though he couldn’t release it now, he knew that in later years, Harry Potter would surely do so if the plot followed the events of the movie. He wondered if there were any more beasts or creatures down there that were unknown to him, as many parts of Gringotts remained beyond public knowledge. He was filled with excitement at the thought of what he might encounter.