Adam slipped out of the Great Hall and into the entrance hall, tucking himself into an unnoticed corner. Carefully, he pulled out a ring, its silver surface trembling slightly in his palm, emitting a soft, glowing light. Contrary to his expectations, there was no pull from the other side—instead, it seemed to be signaling some hidden message.
When he absentmindedly aimed the ring toward the Great Hall, its vibrations intensified, and the faint glow began to flicker.
"Adam! What're you doing here?" Cedric's voice broke his focus, appearing suddenly behind him, arms full of books.
Adam quickly closed his hand around the ring and turned to face Cedric. "Just got back from the library, huh?"
"Yeah, had my first Defense Against the Dark Arts class this afternoon. Professor Hogg's got us writing a report on…" Cedric trailed off, then gave Adam a curious look. "Wait, you first-years haven't had that class yet, have you?"
Adam gave a distracted nod, and Cedric grinned mysteriously. "Well, don't miss it. Hogg's way better than last year's professor. At least he doesn't make us just sit there reading."
Still clutching the ring, Adam glanced toward the Great Hall's entrance without turning his head. "What, the Erkling? Is it really that big a deal?"
Cedric's eyes widened. "How'd you know? Oh, let me guess—George and Fred spilled the beans, didn't they?"
He scratched his head, a bit embarrassed, about to say more when he noticed Adam heading back into the Great Hall. Cedric followed, watching as Adam wandered aimlessly along the long tables.
"Looking for something?" Cedric asked, assuming Adam was hunting for an empty seat. But when Adam passed right by an open spot, curiosity got the better of him.
"Nothing…" Adam muttered.
His brow furrowed as the ring's vibrations grew stronger the closer he got to the tables.
"You in some kind of trouble?" Cedric asked quietly, grabbing Adam's sleeve with concern.
Adam glanced back, noticing several students watching him curiously. Even Snape, up at the staff table, was eyeing him with suspicion, probably because he was lingering by the Slytherin table. A first-year Slytherin nearby cautiously shifted his plate, catching Adam's gaze and offering a stiff, polite smile.
"Just thinking about how to sell some quills," Adam said, realizing his wandering was drawing too much attention. He pulled a handful of quills from his pouch and slapped them onto Cedric's stack of books. "You're helping me sell these."
"But I was gonna head back to read…" Cedric protested, clutching his books.
"Sell one, you get thirty percent. No cap."
"Deal!"
Adam didn't look back, holding a gift-boxed quill and scanning the other side of the hall. His mind was still on the ring as he randomly picked a Slytherin at the table. With a thud, he dropped the box in front of them and held out his hand.
"That'll be five Galleons."
The Slytherin glanced around, realizing his friends had conveniently scattered. Swallowing hard, he mustered the courage to speak. "I… heard other people paid less."
Adam's eyes flicked to the boy's robe before pressing a hand on the quill. Instantly, intricate patterns bloomed across the previously plain white feather.
"This is the price for a custom crest design. And I'm already giving you a discount."
"But—"
"Hm?"
The Slytherin hesitated, waving a hand nervously. "No, no, I'm not saying your quills aren't good! It's just… could you make a few more? My friends have been wanting some, but we're kind of…"
Adam glanced at the other Slytherins, who nodded eagerly. "Fine. Line up and show me your crests."
By the time he left the Slytherin table, his pockets were heavy with Galleons and he had a long parchment list of custom orders—some even requesting pure gold nibs, despite Adam's warnings about their short lifespan. One student, fearing Adam might refuse, paid in full upfront. It was another reminder of just how deep the pockets of pure-blood families ran.
As Adam continued wandering the hall, starting to sense a direction, a billowing black robe blocked his path.
"What exactly are you doing here?" Snape's voice dripped with menace.
"Professor, I'm just selling stuff. You know how it is for us less fortunate wizards—gotta make ends meet in our free time," Adam said, meeting Snape's gaze without flinching.
"You're extorting them!" Snape snapped, his expression darkening. "Don't think I didn't see you fleecing Galleons off the Slytherin table."
As they spoke, Adam felt the ring's vibrations weaken. He slipped past Snape, scanning the students leaving the hall.
"I'm talking to you, Adam Morgan! Did you hear me?" Snape barked.
Adam, finding nothing suspicious, finally turned to Snape's sour face. "Sorry, Professor, but there's no rule against selling in the Great Hall, is there? Ask the Slytherins—they'll vouch for me."
Snape shot him a glare, then turned to question the nearby students. To his surprise, they confirmed Adam's story. With a scowl, Snape snatched a quill from a first-year, tossed a few Galleons on the table, and stormed out. At the doorway, he spun around and pointed at Adam.
"Making a racket in the Great Hall—five points from Hufflepuff!"
The Slytherin whose quill Snape had taken stared at the Galleons, mumbling, "Professor Snape, I think you underpaid…"
Adam smirked, pulling another gift box from his pouch and setting it in front of the student, holding out his hand again. "Five Galleons."
…
Waves crashed against the shore, spraying white foam across jagged black rocks. A few seabirds pecked at the wet sand, their red claws leaving delicate tracks. A sudden figure startled them, sending them flapping to the top of a nearby cliff with frantic cries.
Adam walked along the beach to a small wooden cabin and knocked lightly on the door. It creaked open, revealing a glimpse of dull red hair before a woman's face appeared.
"Miss Annie," Adam said, "I've got a question for you." He held up the silver ring, its faint glow catching her eye. "This ring started trembling and glowing earlier. What's it trying to tell me?"
Annie's expression was livelier than the last time they'd met. Her eyes curved into crescents, and she smiled at Adam with a mix of mischief and anticipation.
"Still calling me Miss Annie?" she teased warmly. "Aren't you and Shirley pretty close?"
Adam's fingers tightened around the ring, his mind flashing back to a moment in town when a similar question had gotten him yanked by the collar by a Ravenclaw professor and tossed to the foot of a snowy mountain, the howling wind still vivid in his memory.
He looked at her cautiously, his voice trembling with uncertainty. "Mum?"