Adam wakes up like any other day and continues his daily routine—feeding Fawkes, freshening up, and heading down to breakfast. The Great Hall is bustling with students, the clatter of utensils and murmured conversations filling the air. He exchanges a few words with the trio before making his way to class. Lessons go by in a blur, from Elective to Potions, where Snape remains as cold as ever. By the time evening arrives, he finds himself unwinding in the Gryffindor common room with Harry, Ron, and Hermione.

  As they sit near the fireplace, Adam notices Hermione looking unusually subdued. She isn’t reading or scolding Ron about homework—something feels off. He tilts his head slightly. "Hermione, you seem a bit down. What’s wrong?"

  She exhales sharply and crosses her arms. "It’s Professor Trelawney again. She was speaking nonsense the entire class. I just—it’s infuriating how she insists on making ridiculous predictions." Her voice is laced with frustration, and Adam can tell she’s truly annoyed.

  Harry, lounging in one of the armchairs, nods in agreement. "Yeah, she’s a bit… odd. When I returned the crystal ball to her, she made another weird prediction. It was creepy, honestly."

  Ron shudders dramatically. "She gives me the creeps sometimes. Remember at the start of the year? She gave Harry that death divination. I still don’t like the way she said it."

  Adam chuckles, shaking his head. "Maybe that’s just her way of providing divination. Don’t take everything she says to heart. It’s not always meant to be taken literally."

  The Trio exchanges glances before nodding in reluctant agreement. The conversation shifts, and Harry hesitates for a moment before deciding to share something. He leans forward slightly. "There’s something else. I think you should know about the Marauder’s Map."

  Adam raises an eyebrow, intrigued. "The Marauder’s Map?"

  Harry nods and continues. "It’s this map that shows every person in Hogwarts, including where they are at any given time. But here’s the weird part—I saw Peter Pettigrew’s name on it." His expression darkens. "He’s supposed to be dead. And then Snape caught me with the map, so Professor Lupin took it away."

  "If the map really shows what you’re saying, then Peter Pettigrew is definitely alive—and hiding somewhere in Hogwarts."

  Harry frowns, rubbing his chin. "Maybe, but I haven’t been able to find him. He vanishes before I reach him, like he knows when I’m coming."

  A tense silence settles between them as the weight of the revelation sinks in.

  Later that night, Adam and Hermione quietly make their way to the Room of Requirement like always.

  They waste no time getting to work. Adam uses the hand incantation again, moving his fingers in precise motions, but despite his repeated efforts, the forbidden spell refuses to activate properly. Hermione meanwhile providing support from the background.

  "It’s still not working," she mutters, frustration creeping into her voice.

  Adam exhales and crosses his arms. "The theory is solid, but the execution is tricky. Maybe it requires a finer level of magical control than traditional wand spells."

  Hermione’s frustration quickly turns into intrigue. "That makes sense. It could be related to intent as well. The way wandless magic works is still largely undocumented." Her eyes shine with curiosity, and despite the lack of progress in Adam unknown experiment, she remains engrossed in the learning process. For her, the research itself is just as thrilling as the results.

  Adam smirks. "You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?"

  She grins. "Of course. We’re breaking boundaries here, Adam."

  With that, Adam return to his experiment, determined to crack the mystery behind the incantation.

  Days pass, and February arrives. The once snow-covered castle grounds begin to thaw as winter starts loosening its grip. Icicles hanging from the rooftops drip steadily, and patches of grass peek through the melting snow. The improved weather lifts the students' spirits, and more of them can be seen outside between classes, taking in the crisp, refreshing air.

  On the weekend, the much-anticipated Hogsmeade trip comes, and Adam seizes the opportunity to visit the village. He leaves the castle early, walking down the familiar path while the morning mist still lingers. Upon arrival, he heads straight to the Three Broomsticks, where the warm, inviting atmosphere welcomes him.

  Madam Rosmerta spots him immediately and offers a friendly smile. "Good morning, Young Master. You need anything?"

  Adam nods. "Kindly provide me with a good breakfast, and thanks."

  After ordering his meal, he takes a seat near the window, enjoying the quiet hum of conversation around him. The scent of butterbeer and freshly baked pastries fills the air. He takes his time with breakfast, watching as more students trickle into the tavern in groups, eager to enjoy their time away from the castle.

  Once he finishes, he makes his way toward the far end of the village, where his organization's building stands. As he steps inside, the scent of parchment, ink, and a faint trace of magical residue greets him.

  Old Man Barry is already waiting, a stack of reports in hand. He gives Adam a nod of acknowledgment before diving straight into business.

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  "The organization now has over 500 employees," Barry states, his tone carrying a sense of accomplishment. "Operations are running smoothly, and the population of magical beasts in the basement has grown significantly."

  Adam listens intently, processing the information. His organization is expanding faster than he expected, and with that growth comes new challenges. But for now, everything seems to be progressing as planned.

  Adam nods as he flips through the parchment, scanning the list of newly rescued arrivals. Since he hasn’t visited in the past two to three weeks, the organization has taken in a significant number of creatures. The names on the list catch his attention—among them are a group of Augurey, their mournful cries likely filling the basement already; a few Erklings, small yet dangerous with their eerie, childlike laughter; a colony of Glumbumble, whose sticky secretions could induce melancholy if mishandled; a pair of mischievous Imps, notorious for causing havoc; and several Knarls, which require careful handling due to their tendency to lash out if they mistake any act of kindness for a trap.

  However, one name on the list makes Adam pause. His eyes narrow slightly. A Quintaped.

  His brows furrow in disbelief. Quintapeds are among the rarest magical creatures, known only to exist on the remote and highly dangerous Isle of Drear. Their violent nature makes them nearly impossible to contain, let alone transport safely. The fact that one is now in his organization’s care is nothing short of astonishing.

  Without wasting any time, Adam heads down to the basement, eager to inspect the new creatures himself. The underground sanctuary is vast, magically expanded to accommodate the growing number of magical beasts. The moment he steps inside, he is met with a mix of sounds—soft rustling, the occasional growl, and the fluttering of wings.

  Moving through the enclosures, Adam personally feeds some of the creatures, knowing that direct interaction helps build trust. The Augureys, perched on their wooden roosts, blink at him with somber expressions as he sets their food down. The Erklings chatter among themselves but remain wary of his presence. The Glumbumbles continue their slow, methodical movements, uninterested in anything but their food.

  As he walks further in, Adam stops by a familiar enclosure. The small Erumpent he rescued earlier has grown considerably in his absence, its once-small frame now weighing several hundred pounds heavier. It lifts its head the moment it spots him, letting out a happy grunt.

  Adam chuckles. "You’ve been eating well, haven’t you?"

  The massive creature nudges him affectionately, nearly knocking him off balance. He used to be able to lift it with ease, but that time has long passed. Still, the bond remains. He spends a few moments with it, scratching its thick hide before moving on.

  Finally, Adam reaches the Quintaped’s enclosure. The creature, covered in shaggy, russet-brown fur, watches him with narrowed, beady eyes. Its five powerful legs remain tensed, as if prepared to attack at any moment. The employees stationed nearby observe warily, their hands resting near their wands just in case. No one has dared approach it too closely since its arrival.

  Ignoring their hesitation, Adam steps forward. He moves carefully but without fear, holding out a portion of food. The Quintaped remains motionless, studying him, its sharp teeth glinting in the dim light. A tense silence stretches through the room.

  Then, to everyone's astonishment, the creature hesitates—before finally leaning in and taking the food directly from Adam’s hand.

  The employees exchange stunned glances.

  Adam watches as the Quintaped chews slowly, its posture relaxing ever so slightly. A small smirk tugs at his lips.

  After finishing his rounds with the new creatures, Adam descends to the lowest floor of the sanctuary, where the Runespoor resides. The dim lighting casts long shadows on the stone walls, the air cool and filled with a faint musky scent. The moment he steps inside, the three-headed serpent lifts its long body, each head turning to greet him in its own distinct way—one hissing softly, another flicking its tongue eagerly, and the last, which was injured earlier, observes him with sharp, calculating eyes.

  Adam steps closer, running a hand over its sleek, patterned scales. “Where is your new friend hiding?” he asks, his voice calm and curious.

  The Runespoor flicks its tongues in response before slithering toward a small crevice in the enclosure. Following its movement, Adam kneels and peers inside. A tiny, coiled form comes into view—a baby Runespoor, its three heads barely developed but already showing signs of distinct personalities.

  A rare sight indeed.

  A small smile tugs at Adam’s lips as he reaches in and gently picks up the young serpent. It slides and curls around his shoulders, its tiny heads turning to examine him, each reacting differently—one curious, one wary, and one simply content. Adam strokes its small body before offering it some food, which it eagerly takes.

  “You’ve got your hands full now,” Adam says, glancing at the larger Runespoor. “Take care of this little one.”

  All three heads nod in agreement, and with that reassurance, Adam carefully places the baby back near its guardian. The larger Runespoor watches over it protectively as Adam stands and stretches.

  His work with the creatures done for now, he makes his way back up to the main floor, where the day’s next task awaits—interviews. More applicants have arrived, drawn to the organization's growing reputation, and the selection process is crucial in maintaining its integrity.

  William, Old Man Barry’s son, is already waiting near the entrance, sorting through a stack of applications. He’s younger than his father but sharp and efficient, having taken on more responsibilities in recent months. As Adam approaches, William looks up and greets him with a respectful nod.

  "Everything’s in order," William says, handing Adam a few files. "We have a solid batch today, but there are a few names you might want to take a closer look at while interviewing them."

  Adam hums in acknowledgment as they move into the interview room. The process is meticulous—each candidate is questioned thoroughly, their backgrounds scrutinized while Adam use his Legilimency. Some are passionate about magical creatures, others are simply looking for work, and a handful seem to have ulterior motives.

  By the time they finish, Adam sets three files aside. One candidate comes from a well-known pureblood family, their responses too polished, their interest in the organization oddly vague. The other two hail from smaller groups.

  Adam knows all three of them are spies sent from different factions.

  While none of them are Death Eaters, Adam doesn’t take risks when it comes to security.

  Closing the files, he firmly states, "Remove these three from the selection list. We can’t afford unnecessary risks."

  William nods, taking the files without question. With the final decisions made, Adam exhales, stretching slightly. The work never seems to end, but at least for now, this part is done.

  Deciding to take a well-earned break, he makes his way back to the Three Broomsticks Inn. The sun has climbed higher, casting a golden hue over the village, and the streets are livelier with students enjoying their Hogsmeade visit.

  Inside the tavern, he quickly spots Hermione and Ron sitting at their usual table with few more students. They wave him over, and he slides into the seat beside them.