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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 walked calmly through the high, vaulted stone corridors of Hogwarts, the sound of his solitary footsteps echoing softly against the ancient, worn walls. The torches flickered faintly in their iron brackets, their golden flames lazily licking at the shadows that lingered persistently at the edges of the passageways. For once, things felt… peaceful. No Hermione shooting intellectual daggers at him with her eyes, no Ron pestering him with endless Quidditch speculation, no Snape looming in a doorway like a personal storm cloud. Just the quiet, inherent rhythm of the school, alive with the distant, muffled chatter of students in other halls and the occasional soft flutter of an owl's wings overhead, returning from a late delivery.
But of course, Adam was never truly alone.
His shadows followed him silently, invisible to the mundane world but vividly, tangibly present to him. They trailed him like loyal, silent guardians, each of their steps a perfect, soundless echo of his own, their combined presence exuding a silent, perfect aura — a mixture of ancient darkness and unshakeable nobility. The very air around him almost shimmered with their influence, as though unseen, powerful forces wrapped him in an intangible cloak of absolute authority. Students passing him in the corridor only shivered without understanding why, a strange, inexplicable chill creeping up their spines as Adam moved past them with a quiet, knowing smile.
At least for now, he thought, the smile fading slightly. Peace doesn't last long in this place.
---
He turned a final corner toward the grand, imposing oak doors of the library. They groaned faintly on their heavy hinges as he pushed them open, revealing the vast, cathedral-like chamber beyond. Row upon row of towering, dark wooden shelves stretched into the dim distance, their countless book spines gleaming dully under the soft, floating candlelight. The faint, familiar smell of old parchment, dry ink, and polished wood filled the cool air, mingling with a hush so profound and thick it seemed to actively swallow any sound that dared to break it.
Adam strode inside with clear purpose, his eyes already scanning the endless shelves. He wasn't here for fun or leisure reading — he needed something practical, something substantive that could help him prepare for Snape's impending Veritaserum practical lesson, especially before his dreaded "training session" in the Dark Forest tonight.
He muttered under his breath, his voice barely a whisper in the holy quiet, > "If it's here, it should be somewhere in the restricted section references, or at least the advanced potion theory…"
Then his eyes caught a particular, worn spine.
"A-ha! Got you."
He stepped briskly toward a high shelf, running his fingers over the embossed leather spines until he pulled free a heavy, formidable leather-bound volume: The Ethics and Brewing of Mind-Altering Potions.
Adam carried the weighty tome to a nearby isolated desk, sat down in the hard wooden chair, and flipped it open, the pages crackling with age.
---
The book was incredibly dense, its yellowed pages filled with intricate diagrams of potion phases, precise sketches of cauldron types, and long, dry passages on magical law and ethical philosophy. Adam's eyes narrowed in concentration as he traced the lines of text, his mind working rapidly, absorbing and cross-referencing information at a speed that would astonish most.
Veritaserum requires moonstone powder steeped for three full nights under a waning moon. If brewed incorrectly, it either loses all potency or becomes lethally toxic. Stability can be maintained by carefully balancing crushed valerian root with wormwood essence. Counteragents are rare… basilisk root is the primary… though phoenix ash is mentioned but noted as highly volatile…
He scribbled quick, precise notes on a scrap of spare parchment, his brain dissecting the underlying logic of the text.
Snape said it's dangerous because truth itself is dangerous. That means its effect isn't just chemical — it's deeply psychological, even spiritual. Break the will, and you break the soul. Unmake the person to get the fact.
The thought sent a genuine chill through him, a cold knot forming in his stomach. But alongside the dread, it also fascinated him, pulling at his curiosity with an almost magnetic force.
---
That's when he noticed he wasn't alone.
A soft, almost imperceptible rustle behind him made him lift his head from the book. From between the towering shelves, Cho Chang appeared, cradling a small, teetering pile of books in her arms. She seemed surprised to see him there, her dark, silky hair falling slightly into her face as she nervously tucked it behind her ear.
"Oh—hi," she said shyly, her voice quiet and hushed as though afraid to disturb the sacred silence of the library.
Adam smiled gently, the intense focus leaving his face. > "You okay, Cho?"
She shifted the heavy books in her arms, adjusting her grip. > "Yeah, I'm fine. I was… actually looking for something useful for Potions. I'm hopeless when it comes to poisons and antidotes. I thought a little extra reading might help before I embarrass myself completely."
Adam's smile widened into something more genuine. > "Ah. I saw something like that earlier, I think."
He stood, his movements fluid, and began scanning the nearby shelves with a practiced, knowing eye, his shadows lingering just behind him, unseen, as if curiously observing the interaction. After a moment, his hand shot out and pulled a slim, green-bound book free from between two larger volumes: Counteragents and Their Brewing Histories.
"Got it," he said, turning and handing it to her.
Her face lit up with relief and gratitude as she took it, adding it carefully to her stack. > "Thank you. Honestly, I never completely understand what we're actually doing in Potions class. That's why I do all this extra reading. Snape terrifies me — and I'd rather not be the next Neville."
Adam chuckled softly, mindful of the quiet. > "You know, you can always ask me. We can figure it out together."
"Really?" she asked, her voice tinged with surprise and hope.
Adam motioned to the empty chair opposite him at the desk. > "Sit. I used to study with the angry woman. This won't be anything new."
Cho tilted her head, a cute frown of confusion on her face as she sat down, placing her books gently on the desk. > "Angry woman?"
His lips curled into an amused grin as memories of Hermione shouting detailed corrections at him came flooding back. > "Granger. Who else?"
Cho laughed softly, covering her mouth with her hand to muffle the sound. > "I should've guessed."
---
They bent over their respective books together, their voices hushed but warm and engaged as they exchanged questions and explanations, the shared focus creating a small, intimate bubble in the vast library.
Cho pointed to a complex passage in her book. > "Wait — why does powdered asphodel react so differently in Veritaserum than it does in a simple sleeping draft?"
Adam leaned over, his shoulder nearly touching hers, and scanned the text quickly. > "Because asphodel's magical core is tied to memory and honesty, not just sleep. In Veritaserum, it amplifies the compulsion toward truth instead of dulling the senses. Think of it like… adding direct sunlight to a mirror. It reflects the light harder, more forcefully."
Cho's eyes widened in understanding. > "That actually makes perfect sense. I never thought of it that way."
She asked another question a few minutes later, her brow furrowed. > "Then what's the real danger of using too much wormwood? It says here it can cause 'cognitive feedback'."
Adam tapped the page in his own book where a similar warning was noted. > "Wormwood destabilizes the potion's magical matrix after the third day. If you add even a grain too much, instead of cleanly revealing truth, it forces chaotic hallucinations. The victim won't just tell the truth — they'll invent horrible, vivid 'truths' they genuinely believe."
Cho scribbled notes quickly onto her parchment, her quill scratching softly. > "You're really good at this. You explain it better than the books."
Adam smirked, a flash of pride in his eyes. > "Told you. I've survived intense studying with Granger — you build up a resistance to confusing explanations."
They shared another quiet laugh together, the sound soft and genuine in the silent library. Time slipped away unnoticed, the outside world fading into irrelevance.
---
Eventually, Adam chanced a glance at the high, arched windows and cursed under his breath. The sky outside was a deep, darkening purple, the last traces of sunset long gone.
"Shit. I forgot. I've got detention. Snape's going to murder me slowly and creatively."
He stood up quickly, closing his book with a definitive thud. > "It was a real pleasure to study with you, Cho."
She stood too, gathering her things, a shy but sincere smile on her face. > "Thank you so much for helping me today. I think I might actually understand it now."
"You can always ask me whatever you want," Adam said with a firm, encouraging nod.
He paused, looking at her one last time. Something in her expression — soft, hopeful, genuinely vulnerable — tugged at a part of him he usually kept locked away. The words, heartfelt and unguarded, slipped out before he could stop them.
"You know… you really look like someone I used to love."
Cho blinked, utterly stunned, her mouth parting slightly in surprise, but before she could form a single word in response, Adam was already turning and striding away, disappearing between the dark bookshelves.
---
He ran through the now-deserted corridor, his school robes fluttering out behind him like a cape. Turning a corner sharply, he skidded to a sudden, graceless halt.
Professor McGonagall stood there, right in the middle of the passage. Arms folded tightly across her chest. Head slightly tilted. Peering at him over the rims of her square spectacles with her famous, piercing, no-nonsense gaze. The kind of gaze that made even the bravest, most mischievous students want to shrink two feet shorter and become one with the stone floor.
"Good evening, Mister Sainz," she said, her Scottish accent making her tone sound calm yet razor sharp.
Adam straightened up instantly, his posture snapping to attention almost like a soldier called to inspection.
"Good evening, Professor."
She raised a single, severe eyebrow. > "Perhaps you would care to explain why you are in such a… vigorous hurry through the corridors at this hour?"
Adam swallowed, his mind racing for the most respectable version of the truth. > "First — pardon me, Professor, for my bad behavior and running. Second — I have a detention to serve right now. With Professor Snape. And I'm quite late."
McGonagall looked at him over the rim of her glasses with plain disbelief, her lips thinning into a stern line. After a long, weighty pause, she said, > "Then you had better go — immediately — before you earn yourself another detention for tardiness."
Adam bowed his head slightly, a gesture of respect and gratitude. > "Thank you, Professor. It won't happen again."
As he hurried off, his footsteps echoing loudly now in the silence, McGonagall muttered under her breath, > "These students…" and shook her head in exasperation before continuing sternly on her way.
---
Adam finally reached Hagrid's hut at the edge of the grounds, panting slightly from the run. The lights inside glowed warmly behind the curtained windows, and from inside, Fang barked once, a deep, welcoming sound.
"Hagrid!" Adam called out as he approached the large wooden door.
The door opened almost immediately, and Hagrid stepped out, already dressed for the outdoors, a massive crossbow strapped to his broad back. > "Adam, yeh here. I was waitin' for yeh, but somethin' urgent's come up with a… situation. Yeh'll have to go into the Forest by yerself tonight. But don't go too far in, yeh hear? Jus' stick to the path near the edge."
Before Adam could even open his mouth to protest or ask for details, Hagrid gave him a hurried, apologetic look and lumbered off quickly into the darkness toward the Forest, leaving him standing alone, staring after the gamekeeper's retreating form in utter disbelief.
Adam ran a hand slowly down his face, letting out a long, weary breath that fogged in the cold night air.
"Holy fucking Snape…"
And with that resigned sigh, the night — and his real, unsupervised test — began.
[ End of Chapter. ]
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If you want to read more about my works or just to support me then here is my patreon:
👉 Patreon.com/Doflamingo4