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[ N/B: Yoy!! Guys Don't forget to check my other works: [ Shadow Monarch Ă— One Piece].
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Third POV:
Adam hurried through the cold, dimly lit dungeon corridor, his boots making soft, rhythmic echoes against the perpetually damp stone floor. He was still a little stiff from the brutal, early-morning quests, his muscles protesting each movement with a familiar ache, but the idea of Potions class with Snape at least promised some… unpredictable entertainment. As he rounded a sharp corner, deep in the bowels of the castle, he nearly bumped into two familiar figures loitering by a suit of armor.
"Good morning, guys," Adam greeted casually, a familiar, easy smirk tugging at his lips as he took them in.
Harry and Ron looked up from their hushed conversation, both breaking into surprised, genuine grins at the sight of him.
"Morning, Adam!" Ron said cheerfully, his voice slightly muffled as his mouth was already full of a half-chewed biscuit he had clearly smuggled from the Great Hall breakfast.
Harry chuckled, shaking his head at his friend's antics before turning his attention to Adam, his green eyes scanning him with amusement. > "Blimey, you look like you've just swum across the Black Lake or something." He remarked, noting the damp hair at Adam's temples and the faint, healthy flush on his skin.
Adam, trying hard not to laugh outright at how unnervingly close Harry was to the absolute truth, answered smoothly, his tone light and evasive, > "You'd be surprised."
The three of them fell into a comfortable formation, leaning against the cold stone wall, chatting as the stream of other students began to thin out, heading to their own classes. Gossip swirled effortlessly between them—Ron was going on at length about how Lavender Brown had charmed all her quills to sing embarrassingly romantic tunes whenever she wrote Harry's name in her notes, which made Harry nearly choke on his own breath in mortification, his ears turning red.
"And did you hear," Ron added between snorts of laughter, barely containing himself, > "that Filch caught Peeves trying to flush all the Slytherin Quidditch uniforms down the loo again? Bloody legend."
Harry shook his head, a wide grin spreading across his face despite his embarrassment, and Adam laughed, a real, hearty sound that echoed softly in the corridor. > "I swear, that poltergeist is more creative than half the professors here. They should give him a teaching position. Defence Against the Poltergeist Arts, or something."
The laughter rolled between them, easy and familiar, until the conversation shifted—inevitably, as it always did with these two—to Quidditch.
"Big game next week," Harry said, his eyes gleaming with excitement and competitive fire. > "Slytherin versus Gryffindor. Going to be brutal."
Ron puffed out his chest, grinning with unshakable confidence. > "And this year, Gryffindor's winning for sure. I've been practicing—"
"Practicing falling off your broom doesn't count," Harry cut in swiftly, a playful glint in his eye, and Ron shoved him with mock offense, both of them laughing.
Adam, who had been listening intently, a thoughtful look on his face, tilted his head. The idea was forming, clicking into place with perfect logic. > "Quidditch, huh? Sounds like a good way to train without sneaking around all the time." His lips curled into a slow, determined grin. > "I want to join too."
Ron's eyes widened comically, and he nearly dropped the remainder of his biscuit. > "Actually… I think Slytherin doesn't have a seeker at the moment. Their last one graduated! You could do it!"
Harry raised a brow, considering it. > "True, but you'll need Snape's permission. He's head of Slytherin house, after all. Controls the team."
Before Adam could formulate a response, a sharp, familiar voice cut through the corridor like a knife.
"This stupid idea won't work. He can barely find his way around the castle, let alone chase a tiny golden ball."
Hermione had arrived, her arms folded tightly across her chest, her large beaded bag stacked with more books and scrolls than any normal human should reasonably be expected to carry. She raised a critical eyebrow at Adam, her expression sharp and utterly unconvinced.
Adam turned his head slowly toward her, the smirk not leaving his face, though it gained a sharper edge. > "At least I don't walk around like a ghost, haunting people with facts they didn't ask for."
Ron snorted loudly, quickly disguising it as a cough into his fist, and Harry quickly covered his own grin by pretending to examine a tapestry on the wall very intently. Hermione's eyes narrowed dangerously, a flash of irritation in their brown depths.
Adam leaned a little closer, lowering his tone to a playful, mocking whisper. > "Anyway… care to compete in today's class, Granger? See who really knows their way around a cauldron?"
Her chin tilted upward, her confidence radiating from her in waves. There was no doubt in her mind. > "Of course. Though I already know who's going to win."
Adam chuckled softly, a low, amused sound, and bowed slightly in mock politeness, a gesture both galling and charming. > "As you wish, my lady."
Harry and Ron exchanged quick, wide-eyed glances, their mouths twitching violently in an effort to hold back explosive laughter. Hermione rolled her eyes so hard it seemed she might see the back of her own skull, but her cheeks, against her will, betrayed the faintest flush of pink.
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They slipped into the chilly Potions classroom just moments before Snape was due to arrive, finding seats near the back. The dungeon was particularly dim today, the torches flickering erratically against the damp, dark walls, casting long, dancing shadows. The heavy, complex scent of dried herbs, pickled roots, and something sharper—like ozone and burned metal—hung thickly in the still air. Rows of glass vials and jars gleamed faintly on the high shelves, and black cauldrons sat waiting on each desk, cold and empty.
The door opened with a slow, ominous creak, and the room seemed to grow instantly colder, the air itself stiffening. Snape glided in, his black robes billowing behind him like a cloud of ink and smoke, every step he took deliberate, silent, and predatory. His dark eyes scanned the class like a hawk searching for the weakest, most interesting prey, until they settled—inevitably, magnetically—on Adam.
Snape stood perfectly still at the front of the class, his pale, long-fingered hands clasped tightly behind his back. The silence he created stretched and stretched until it was almost unbearable, a tangible pressure on every student in the room. Then, in that low, silken, venom-laced voice that demanded absolute attention, he spoke:
"Today," Snape drawled, his gaze flickering across the terrified faces of the students before returning, unwavering, to Adam, > "you will learn about Veritaserum. The Truth Serum."
His eyes, however, dark and unblinking, didn't leave Adam for a single second.
The dungeon seemed to grow darker, heavier, the weight of his words and his stare pressing down on the students like invisible chains.
And with that, the chapter ended.
[ End of Chapter. ]
[ N/ B : I know this chapter isn't long and bit boring. ]
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