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Third Person POV
Adam slipped out of the classroom, eyes darting down the corridor as he scanned for the swish of long black hair and the faint scent of rosewater that he'd come to associate with Cho Chang. He wound between clusters of students, moving like a silent current, all his focus locked on his quarry.
But before he could take more than three determined steps, Hermione Granger suddenly materialized in front of him like an immovable brick wall. She planted herself in his path, arms crossed, her sharp gaze blazing with suspicion.
---
Hermione:
"Since when can you answer class questions that easily?"
---
Adam leaned sideways, trying to peer around her, but Hermione mirrored his movements precisely, blocking his view each time like a skilled chess opponent anticipating every move.
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Adam:
"Maybe since the day I met you. Or just… a miracle?"
---
He flashed a crooked grin, eyes still flicking over her shoulder as though trying to see past a particularly annoying curtain.
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Adam:
"You believe in miracles, right?"
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Hermione's brow knit so tightly it looked like she might sprain something. Before she could retort, Adam sighed dramatically, muttering under his breath:
---
Adam:
"Hell, I can't see where she's gone…"
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Then, with a flippant wave of his hand, he sidestepped her and strode off down the corridor, leaving Hermione standing there, mouth open in wordless outrage.
Hermione stared after him, color rising furiously in her cheeks. Her fingers curled into little fists at her sides.
---
Hermione (half whispering, half shrieking):
"ARGH—that insufferable…!"
---
Before she could storm off in pursuit, Draco Malfoy sauntered over, a smirk stretched wide across his pale face. He leaned closer, drawling in a tone dripping with venomous delight:
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Draco:
"Awww… what's wrong, Granger? Did your boyfriend run away before you could scold him?"
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Hermione whipped around so fast her hair lashed Draco across the face. She planted one hand on her hip and jabbed a finger toward his chest, eyes narrowed into slits.
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Hermione:
"At least he has the courage to say things to my face. Unlike you, who only speaks when you've got Crabbe and Goyle standing behind you!"
---
Draco opened his mouth, visibly scrambling for a retort, but Hermione cut him off with a sharp, almost professorial glare.
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Hermione:
"Oh—and do shut up for once, Malfoy. No one in this entire castle is impressed by your constant squawking."
---
Draco's jaw snapped shut with an audible click, his pale face turning slightly pink. He scoffed under his breath, spun on his heel, and stalked away, Crabbe and Goyle trailing after him like bewildered shadows.
Hermione exhaled hard, pressing her hands to her temples. She glanced in the direction Adam had disappeared and scowled, muttering to herself:
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Hermione (muttering):
"Miracles, my foot…"
---
And with that, she gathered her books and stomped off down the corridor, determined to find Harry and Ron before Adam caused any more chaos.
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Adam slipped further into the corridors of Hogwarts, his stride quick and silent, eyes scanning every branching hallway and staircase with a hunter's precision. The castle bustled around him: laughter echoed off stone walls, groups of students spilled from classrooms, the occasional swirl of a passing ghost drifted by in pearlescent silence.
But he barely noticed any of it. His mind was a single track, fixated on the glimmer of Cho Chang's dark hair and the graceful sway of her movements.
He traced the path he'd last seen her take, weaving through the clusters of students like a shadow. He peered into alcoves where statues stood solemn and dusty. He pushed open a heavy wooden door to peek into a sunlit stairwell.
Nothing.
He descended a flight of spiral stairs two at a time, only to double back moments later, convinced she might have taken a different route. His footsteps rang out on flagstone floors, growing increasingly agitated.
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Adam (thinking):
Where the hell did she vanish? Did she Disapparate in the middle of a Hogwarts hallway?
---
He passed the arched entrance to the library, paused, and leaned inside, scanning row upon row of bookshelves. No sign of Cho. He even checked the shadows between the shelves where students sometimes slipped away for quiet reading—or secret conversations.
Still nothing.
Eventually, Adam stood in the middle of a high corridor, hands braced on his hips, exhaling a long breath. A few Hufflepuffs passing by gave him wary glances, whispering to each other as they went.
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Adam (thinking):
Alright. Enough chasing phantoms. I've got bigger monsters to worry about.
---
He pulled himself upright, rolling his shoulders as if to shake off the frustration. With a resigned scoff, he reached into his robes and swiped open the shimmering translucent screen of his system. The blue glow illuminated his face as shifting letters formed across the panel:
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> [ SYSTEM STATUS DISPLAY ]
Special Quest – Shadow Hunter
Objective: Locate the possessed student and eliminate the shadow entity.
Time Remaining: 31 hours 12 minutes 19 seconds
Progress: 0%
Reward: Level Up to 7, +10 Intelligence, +10 Endurance, New High-Tier Spell
Penalty if Failed: -5 Magic, System Lockout (48 hours), Memory Seal
---
Adam let out a soft huff of laughter, though there was no real humor in it.
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Adam (thinking):
Thirty-one hours left. And I've been running around stalking a girl instead of finding a murderous shadow. Great priorities, genius.
---
With a determined exhale, he flicked the screen closed and turned on his heel, cloak swishing behind him as he stalked off down the corridor, his mind shifting gears back to the dark puzzle waiting for him.
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( At Night) :
Night fell like a velvet curtain across Hogwarts, its descent slow and inevitable, as though the heavens themselves were drawing a shroud over the castle's ancient stones. The darkness pooled between the towers, thick and silent, seeping into every crevice, every shadowed archway, spilling over the sloping lawns like ink spreading across parchment. It crept toward the Forbidden Forest, where the trees stood sentinel, their branches clawing at the sky. Above, the stars glimmered, cold and brilliant, scattered like diamonds across an expanse of black silk, their light sharp enough to cut through the stillness. Here and there, the castle's windows glowed golden, solitary beacons in the vastness of the night, their warmth a feeble defiance against the encroaching dark.
Adam stood alone in a disused stone corridor on the castle's third floor, the air around him heavy with the weight of his concentration. The corridor itself was narrow, its walls rough with age, the stones beneath his feet worn smooth by centuries of unseen footsteps. His wand was raised, the wood warm against his palm, his shoulders tight with tension, his fingers coiled in readiness. His eyes, dark and unblinking, remained fixed on the empty air before him, as though he could will the magic into existence through sheer force of will. The parchment from the library lay spread on the floor beside him, its edges slightly curled, covered in a frantic scrawl of runes and tight, cramped notes—each symbol a desperate plea for understanding, each line a testament to hours of relentless study.
His lips moved in a furious whisper, the words slipping between his teeth like a blade unsheathed:
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"Revelare Anima… Silencio."
---
Again, the spell flickered into life—a shimmering bubble of silver magic swelling outward, its surface rippling like disturbed water. Silvery threads unspooled through the corridor, weaving through the air in delicate, intricate patterns, their glow casting ghostly reflections against the stone walls. Adam's gaze darted across them, searching, waiting for the telltale pulse of dark resonance, the faintest tremor that would betray the presence of what he sought.
Nothing.
The threads dissolved into the air, leaving no trace behind.
He clenched his teeth, the muscles in his jaw standing out in sharp relief, his frustration a living thing beneath his skin. His fingers tightened around his wand, the wood protesting under the strain of his grip. He inhaled sharply, the cold air stinging his lungs, and tried again.
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"Revelare Anima… Silencio."
---
This time, the sphere flared, its light intensifying for a single, hopeful moment—before sputtering, its edges fraying like threadbare cloth. The magic unraveled entirely, collapsing inward with a soundless sigh, disintegrating into a harmless puff of blue sparks that scattered across the floor like dying fireflies.
Adam let out a sharp breath, the sound harsh in the silence of the corridor. His jaw tightened further, his teeth grinding together as he fought back the surge of irritation that threatened to overtake him.
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Adam (thinking):
> Come on. COME ON. I've done the calculations, the runes, the resonance matches… Why the bloody hell isn't it stabilizing?
---
He sank into a crouch, his knees protesting the sudden movement, his fingers—trembling slightly now—raking through his hair. The strands were damp with sweat, clinging to his forehead despite the chill in the air. His breath fogged before him, each exhale a fleeting cloud that dissipated almost instantly, swallowed by the corridor's stillness. His eyes dropped to the parchment once more, the runes now mocking him, their shapes twisting into nonsense before his gaze.
He tried again.
And again.
Each attempt yielded the same result—the magic either fizzling out before it could take proper form or producing static threads that hung lifeless in the air, offering no useful readings, no answers. His wand grew hot in his hand, the wood nearly scorching his skin from the repeated channeling of magical energy, the strain of it humming through his bones like an over-tuned instrument.
Finally, he lowered his wand, his arm aching from the prolonged tension, his chest heaving as though he'd run a great distance. Sweat cooled on the back of his neck, the sensation unpleasant against his skin, a stark contrast to the frigid air around him.
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Adam (thinking):
Forget it. It's not working. I'm missing something fundamental. I'm forcing the magic instead of letting it breathe.
--- With stiff fingers, he rolled up the parchment, the edges crumpling slightly under his grip, the sound of the paper rustling unnaturally loud in the quiet. He shoved it into his satchel with more force than necessary, the leather flap buckling under his haste.
Without even realizing where he was going, he turned on his heel, his boots striking the stone floor with sharp, echoing clicks that reverberated down the darkened corridor. The sound was hollow, a rhythm without melody, a march without purpose.
Outside, the night air slapped him in the face, cold and sharp as winter steel, the sudden change in temperature stealing his breath for a moment. He barely registered it, his mind still churning, his thoughts a storm he couldn't escape. He kept walking, half in a haze, his feet carrying him forward without conscious direction. The lawns stretched before him, vast and silvered by moonlight, the grass crunching underfoot, heavy with frost that glittered like shattered glass.
When he finally looked up again, he'd come to the edge of the Black Lake.
---
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Adam stopped.
He stood there, his breath steaming in the cold, his body still thrumming with the remnants of frustration, his thoughts still tangled in knots. But something about the sight before him made him pause, made him truly *see* for the first time in hours.
The lake lay still as polished obsidian, its surface undisturbed, perfectly mirroring the stars overhead. Moonlight spilled over its expanse, turning the blackness into silver sheets that rippled and quivered like liquid metal, the reflections shifting with every faint tremor of the water. Wisps of cold mist hovered just above the surface, shifting slowly, lazily, like ghosts dancing on glass, their forms ethereal and fleeting.
Far across the lake, the dark silhouette of the Forbidden Forest loomed, its trees like jagged black teeth against the silvered sky, their outlines stark and unyielding. Somewhere deep beneath the water's surface, the giant squid slumbered, its presence betrayed only by the occasional tiny ripple that spread outward, disturbing the otherwise flawless mirror of the lake.
Adam's eyes widened slightly, his breath catching in his throat, as though he were seeing the world for the first time.
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Adam (thinking):
It's… beautiful.
---
A soft breeze stirred the water, its touch gentle, almost hesitant, carrying with it the sharp scent of wet stone and winter, the crispness of frost and the faint, earthy tang of the forest beyond. Tiny waves lapped at the icy shore, their murmurs barely audible, whispering secrets only the night could understand. The moon hung so close, so impossibly large, that it seemed almost touchable, its reflection fractured a thousand times in the trembling surface of the lake, each shimmering piece a fragment of something greater.
He felt, unexpectedly, a strange hush settle over his mind. The usual chatter of thoughts—plans, sarcasm, frustration—fell away, replaced by something weightless and calm, something that didn't demand answers or solutions.
---
Adam whispered, his voice soft, as though afraid to disturb the lake's serenity:
"I've never… really stopped to look at this."
---
His dark eyes traced the silver path across the water, the way the light danced and shifted, never the same for even a moment. A soft smile, rare and almost gentle, tugged at the corners of his lips, the expression unfamiliar but not unwelcome.
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Adam (thinking):
In all this absurd mess… maybe there's still things worth admiring. Just for being what they are.
---
He tilted his head back, his gaze lifting to the stars, their brilliance undimmed by the moon's glow. The night seemed endless, fragile, a beautiful emptiness that swallowed all frustration, all urgency, leaving only stillness in its wake.
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Adam (thinking):
"You cannot create experience. You must undergo it."
---
The Camus quote surfaced in his mind, unbidden, and for the first time, it didn't sound like a curse.
A cold gust swept over the lake, rustling his cloak, the fabric billowing slightly before settling once more. Adam drew it tighter around himself, the wool rough against his fingers, and let out a long sigh, his breath fogging the frosty air before dissipating into nothingness.
---
Adam (muttering):
"Alright, Black Lake. I'll try again tomorrow."
---
With one last look at the shimmering water, he turned, his boots scuffing against the frost-laden grass, and began the slow walk back to the castle, the silver glow of the lake still lingering in his eyes, its quiet beauty a silent promise of something he couldn't yet name.
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Adam shoved his hands into his cloak pockets as he turned away from the silver glow of the lake. His breath coiled in pale clouds as he trudged up the gentle slope toward Hogwarts.
Above him, the castle loomed against the stars, a hulking silhouette punctuated by flickering windows. He was halfway across the dark grass when he stopped dead in his tracks.
Something rustled behind him—like dry leaves brushing stone, or silk dragging across marble. It was faint, but unmistakable.
He turned his head sharply, scanning the shadows behind him.
Nothing.
The trees along the lake edge swayed gently. Moonlight shimmered across the ripples. All seemed calm again.
Adam exhaled, rolling his eyes.
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Adam (muttering):
"Brilliant. Now I'm hearing the forest talk to me…"
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He started forward once more.
Then he heard it again.
A soft sound, closer this time. Like someone whispering a secret directly into his ear. It was so faint he couldn't make out the words, only the cadence—a low, sibilant hiss.
He froze, every hair on his arms standing on end.
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Adam (thinking):
That's not the wind.
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He pivoted slowly, wand sliding from his sleeve into his palm, his knuckles white around the polished wood.
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"Who's there?" he demanded, voice sharp and cold.
---
No answer came. Just silence, stretching thin as glass.
Then—there it was again. A murmur, barely louder than breath. The voice felt like it slithered across his skull rather than echoing through the air:
---
"…Adam…
…Find me…"
---
Adam felt a chill claw its way down his spine. His wand tip glowed faintly as he whispered a detection charm, the syllables trembling on his tongue.
No shadow threads appeared. The air remained still, empty of silver strands or dark resonance.
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Adam (thinking):
Either I'm cracking up… or something's learned how to hide from my spell.
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He swallowed hard, scanning every tree trunk, every patch of frost-silvered grass. He started to back away, inching closer to the castle's distant glow.
But the whisper came again, soft yet urgent, winding around his mind like smoke:
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"…Find me… before he does…"
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Adam's eyes darted across the lawn, pulse thundering in his ears. His free hand trembled slightly as he clenched it into a fist.
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Adam (thinking):
He… who? Voldemort? The shadow creature? Or someone else entirely?
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A breeze gusted across the lake, rattling the reeds. The moon slipped behind a thin veil of cloud, plunging the world into sudden darkness.
When the moonlight returned a heartbeat later, the whisper was gone.
Adam lowered his wand slowly, heart hammering.
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Adam (muttering):
"Perfect. Just bloody perfect. Now the air's talking to me. Camus would love this shit."
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He glanced once more over his shoulder, the surface of the lake now dark and inscrutable.
Then he tightened his cloak around himself and strode briskly toward the castle, his mind racing with questions—and the whisper echoing faintly in the back of his skull.
[ END OF CHAPTER 17. ]
To Be Continued...
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IF YOU WANT TO READ MORE ABOUT MY WORKS OR JUST TO SUPPORT ME THEN HERE IS MY PATREON :
(If you want to read 5–10 chapters ahead, support me on Patreon ) :
👉 Patreon.com/Doflamingo4