Edward stood at the far end of the room, locked in a silent standoff with Snape. Neither spoke, neither moved.
The Aurors, growing impatient, exchanged glances and began closing in on the lectern, forming a loose circle. No matter which way Snape tried to escape, he'd run into at least two spells.
Adam could see their right hands hovering at their sides, positioned to draw their wands in a flash.
Just as Snape's fingers twitched, about to reach for his wand—
"Sir, this arrest warrant only has the Department of Magical Law Enforcement's seal. It's missing the signatures and seals from the Wizengamot and the Minister's office, so—"
"Coming to Hogwarts without authorization and trying to arrest our Potions professor… that doesn't seem to follow proper procedure, does it?"
Adam had sidled up to the desk where the warrant lay. His voice cut through the tense classroom, drawing every eye.
Edward's expression didn't flicker. He turned to look at Adam, standing to his left, and the Auror beside him moved to grab the young wizard's robe.
"Don't make trouble. Get back to your seat. What do you know about reading documents or procedures?"
Adam dodged, vaulting over the desk with the agility of a Niffler.
"Felix Felicis, I don't know much about, but this? This I know."
He perched on the desk, a grin spreading across his face as he pulled a thick stack of papers from his small bag.
Thwack.
He slapped the stack onto the empty desk, revealing a final parchment covered in dense signatures and seals.
"Because I've got one of my own."
The room went dead silent. Everyone froze, especially the Slytherin students, who exchanged knowing looks. They glanced at Snape's complex expression, then at Adam, their faces practically screaming, Of course it's him.
"You're…"
For the first time since entering, Edward's stoic facade cracked. He met Adam's unflinching gaze.
"Hang on, let me find it. I think it's best if Headmaster Dumbledore handles this himself—it's more in line with proper protocol."
Adam ducked his head, rummaging through his bag under the puzzled stares of the room.
From a pouch no bigger than a fist, he pulled out several large shovels, a dozen gift boxes, and a pile of quills.
As the Aurors' eyelids twitched and Edward watched with growing impatience, Adam dumped out several sacks of dirt.
"Got it!"
He looked up, triumphantly holding a dazzling gold-and-red feather, marred only by a small notch that looked like a bite mark.
The students stared, baffled. The Aurors scoffed, but Edward's face darkened. He raised his hand sharply.
At his signal, the Aurors near the lectern gripped their wands and charged. One, from a distance, flicked their wand, a white curse flaring toward Snape's hand as it reached for his wand.
In the next instant, the feather in Adam's hand burst into flames, radiating a golden-red glow.
"Dumbledore's Summoning Charm!"
…
Professor McGonagall's lips were pressed tight as she hurried toward the dungeon classroom, trailed by several other professors.
"Merlin's beard! How dare they barge into Hogwarts? And who in the world let them in?!"
Professor Flitwick, the Ravenclaw Head, was practically jogging, panting as he shouted.
When they reached the dungeon and saw the classroom's broken door, their hearts sank. Wands drawn, they rushed inside.
"No matter what department you're from, you will not harm a student! Stop—"
Flitwick, leading the charge, shoved open the half-broken door, wand raised. But when he saw the scene inside, his voice cut off abruptly.
"Filius, calm down!"
McGonagall, a half-step behind, burst in and froze, stunned by the sight.
Adam stood on the desk, his raised hand blazing like a torch, yet his face showed no trace of pain.
In that moment, a phoenix's melodious song echoed through the dungeon, banishing the faint chill in the air.
Fawkes appeared in a burst of flame, its golden-red tail feathers swaying gently, tracing a graceful scarlet arc through the air.
In the dim classroom, embers floated down like crimson fireflies.
The students rose from their seats, reaching out to catch the glowing sparks, a warm, comforting sensation spreading from their palms through their bodies.
Suddenly, a pair of small hands wrapped around the phoenix.
Fawkes blinked, turning to look at Adam with deep confusion in its eyes.
Adam hugged it tightly, inspecting it from all angles, then lifted Fawkes to look beneath it, bewildered.
"Where's Professor Dumbledore?"
Fawkes let out a soft trill, pecking lightly at Adam's palm, but the boy held on stubbornly, refusing to let go.
He hopped off the desk, still clutching Fawkes, and walked up to Edward, giving a quick wave to McGonagall nearby.
"Mr. Edward, Fawkes tells me Professor Dumbledore and Minister Fudge are waiting for you in the Headmaster's office. Need me to show you the way?"
Edward stared at Adam, his voice low and hoarse. "Thank you, young man, but I can find it myself."
He frowned at the Aurors, now in disarray near the lectern, and barked, "Get down from there!"
The Aurors lowered their wands, reluctantly retreating to the back of the room. Snape, released, gave a cold snort and brushed the dust off his robes.
Edward issued a few curt instructions, then turned to leave. Flitwick followed closely, ostensibly guiding him but clearly keeping a wary eye on his every move.
McGonagall hurried forward, scanning the unharmed students with relief.
But when her eyes landed on Adam, her lips tightened again. She approached, staring at him silently.
"Uh… Professor McGonagall, want to pet Fawkes?"
Adam quickly raised the phoenix, flashing an innocent, pleading smile to deflect her attention.
Fawkes, unimpressed, struggled free, vanishing in a burst of flame after giving Adam's hand a sharp peck.
McGonagall sighed, glancing at Snape on the lectern. "Next time, don't do that. Phoenix feathers are precious and best saved for critical moments. They can save your life in a real emergency."
Adam shrugged, looking toward where Fawkes had disappeared. "Against a real enemy—especially someone who opens with a Killing Curse—I wouldn't have time to summon a phoenix. Besides, I'm usually at Hogwarts. I don't need the feather."
He paused, then added, "And judging by Fawkes, it's probably nearing its next Burning Day. Until it regrows its feathers, burning a few won't do much anyway."
McGonagall opened her mouth to respond, but Snape's voice cut through from the lectern.