As soon as curfew begins, Adam silently slips through Gryffindor Tower, his form concealed by his perfected charm. The dimly lit corridors of Hogwarts stretch before him, eerily quiet except for the occasional flicker of torchlight along the ancient stone walls. He moves swiftly, his footsteps muffled by years of practiced stealth, ensuring he avoids the occasional patrolling prefect, wandering ghost, and even the Founders in the portraits.

  Over the past few months, Adam has been researching a forbidden spell, one he is eager to master: ??? ??????, or Space Explode, mainly its hand-incantation. However, given the forbidden nature of such magic and the uncertainty of the required hand movements, he knows he cannot risk practicing anywhere in the open.

  As he nears the hidden entrance, Adam focuses on his need for a secure, controlled space to experiment. The room responds to his silent request, and almost instantly, the door materializes before him. Slipping inside, he finds himself in a specially designed spell practice chamber. The walls shimmer with embedded safety charms, enchanted to absorb stray bursts of magic and prevent accidental destruction. The air hums with the faint pulse of protective wards, ensuring his experiments remain contained.

  With a steady breath, Adam retrieves several small bags from his expanded pouch, carefully placing them in a neat row on the stone floor. These serve as his test subjects—analyzing their reactions helps him gauge the spell’s true nature. Unlike the Extension Charm, which expands space from within, Space Explode operates on an entirely different principle, disrupting the very fabric of an object’s spatial integrity. Understanding its effects is crucial before he even considers practical applications.

  Positioning himself at a safe distance, Adam raises his hand, fingers poised as he recalls the precise movements he has studied. His mind sharpens, focusing entirely on the spell’s mechanics. Then, with measured precision, he attempts ??? ?????? for the first time.

  The result is immediate—an eerie silence precedes the sudden implosion of the bag, its form collapsing inward as if consumed by an invisible force. In the blink of an eye, a small vacuum takes its place, distorting the air around it like a shimmering ripple in reality. Adam barely has time to analyze the effect before he reacts, swiftly raising his wand.

  With precise control, he casts Reverte Incantatem, a spell he has created from a mixture of Reverte and Priori Incantatem, carefully reversing the spell by retracing his wand movements in reverse. The vacuum flickers, then dissipates, leaving nothing behind but a faint disturbance in the air. The bag itself, however, is lost—seemingly erased from existence.

  Undeterred, Adam adjusts his stance and repeats the process. Again and again, he tests different hand movements, altering his approach each time in an effort to refine the spell’s execution. Yet every attempt ends in failure—the results vary slightly, but none yield the controlled effect he envisions. Some bags disintegrate instantly, while others collapse into themselves at unpredictable speeds. Each time, he is forced to rely on Reverte Incantatem to negate the unintended consequences, ensuring the anomalies do not linger.

  Yet rather than feeling discouraged, Adam is exhilarated. This spell is unlike anything he has attempted before—raw, volatile, and complex in ways basic magic is not. Every misstep teaches him something new, and though progress is slow, it is progress nonetheless. He carefully notes the differences in his approach, mentally cataloging what seems to work and what does not.

  At last, exhaustion begins to creep in. His limbs feel heavy, his mind hazy from prolonged concentration. Realizing that pushing himself further would only lead to reckless mistakes, Adam decides to call it a night. With one final glance at the room, he tidies up his practice space before slipping out and making his way back to his dormitory. The castle is utterly silent, the air crisp with the lingering chill of winter. As he climbs into bed just before midnight, a satisfied smile lingers on his face. He may not have mastered Space Explode yet, but tonight has proven one thing—he is getting closer.

  The next morning, Adam wakes up early, his body still accustomed to his usual schedule despite the holiday lull. With the winter break still ongoing, the castle remains quieter than usual, the corridors less bustling, and the air thick with the crisp chill of the season. He allows himself a rare moment of leisure, stretching out in bed before finally rising to begin his day.

  Though the holidays offer a break from academic pressures, Adam maintains his disciplined routine. He spends long hours in the library, combing through books on magical creatures, spellcraft, and ancient wizarding practices. His research on Space Explode continues, though he refrains from practicing it outside the safety of the Room of Requirement. The rest of his time is divided between roaming the Forbidden Forest with Hagrid—where they check on various magical creatures—and unwinding with the trio in the Gryffindor common room. The roaring fire, along with drinks, snacks, and the warmth of his friends, makes the long winter evenings particularly enjoyable.

  One afternoon, an owl arrives bearing a letter from Fred and George. Adam immediately recognizes their messy, enthusiastic handwriting and unfolds the parchment with interest. As their primary investor, he has a vested interest in their business, and the twins make sure he stays informed of every major development. Their latest update is nothing short of thrilling—their joke shop thrives, sales soar, and they anticipate expanding to international markets within the coming year. They even hint at a few “top-secret” projects in development, promising Adam that he will be among the first to witness their newest inventions.

  Beyond his usual activities, Adam also dedicates time to deepening his bond with the frost salamanders. The once-cautious creatures have grown more comfortable around him, no longer wary of his presence. They respond eagerly when he visits, their icy-blue scales shimmering under the winter light as they accept his carefully chosen treats. Watching them interact with trust and curiosity fills him with a quiet sense of accomplishment—another small but meaningful connection forged with the magical world.

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  The remainder of the winter holidays passes in peaceful contentment. Snow blankets the castle grounds in pristine white, the fireplaces burn warm and bright, and the lingering festivities keep spirits high. Finally, the holiday break culminates in the grand New Year celebration at Hogwarts. The Great Hall transforms into a dazzling spectacle, enchanted snowfall drifting from the ceiling, golden lanterns floating overhead, and a feast fit for royalty spread across the tables. Laughter and cheer echo through the castle as students and professors alike welcome the new year in true wizarding fashion.

  As the clock strikes midnight, Adam leans back in his seat, watching the enchanted fireworks explode across the enchanted sky.

  With the holidays ending by the second week of January, students return to Hogwarts, filling the castle once more with the familiar hum of chatter, the scurry of footsteps through the corridors, and the rustling of parchment as lessons resume in full force. The cold January air still lingers, clinging to the stone walls, making warm robes and enchanted fireplaces a necessity.

  After his first full day of classes, Adam returns to the Gryffindor common room, brushing off a few stray leaves from his cloak after a visit to the Forbidden Forest. He has taken extra time to feed and check on the magical creatures, ensuring they are faring well despite the persistent winter chill. However, the moment he steps through the portrait hole, he is met with raised voices.

  Ron and Hermione are locked in a heated argument, their faces flushed—whether from frustration or the warmth of the common room fire is uncertain. Between them, Harry sits with an exasperated look, rubbing his temples as he attempts, and fails, to mediate. Adam sighs.

  "What now?" he mutters to himself, stepping closer.

  He doesn’t have to ask—the source of the argument becomes clear almost immediately. Ron’s pet rat, Scabbers, has gone missing, and Ron is convinced that Crookshanks, Hermione’s notoriously clever and sharp-eyed cat, is responsible. Hermione, standing her ground, holds Crookshanks protectively against her chest, glaring at Ron.

  "You don’t have proof!" she huffs.

  "I don’t need proof," Ron snaps back, his ears turning red. "Your cat’s been after Scabbers for months! And now he’s gone! What am I supposed to think?"

  Adam, knowing the truth—that Scabbers is no ordinary rat but rather Peter Pettigrew in disguise—immediately realizes what has happened. The timing makes perfect sense. Pettigrew, sensing danger now that Sirius Black is nearby, must have finally decided to flee before his cover is blown.

  Thinking quickly, Adam offers a plausible excuse before Ron can spiral into a full-blown tirade. "I saw Scabbers running through the corridor earlier while I was heading outside to meet Hagrid," he lies smoothly. "I tried to catch him, but he got away."

  Hermione straightens, a triumphant smile flashing across her face as she looks back at Ron. "See? Crookshanks is innocent! Your rat ran away on his own!"

  Ron, however, remains unconvinced. He scowls, crossing his arms as his frustration simmers. "This isn’t over," he mutters. "Your cat’s been after him for ages, Hermione. You should keep an eye on it."

  Harry, clearly exhausted by the endless bickering, steps in, raising his hands in a placating gesture. "Look, we’ll look for Scabbers tomorrow, Ron. I doubt he’s left the castle. He’s probably just hiding somewhere."

  Adam chuckles at their banter but doesn’t let himself get too distracted. His mind is already on his own plans for the night. As the evening wears on and the common room gradually empties, the argument fades into a more passive standoff—Ron sulking in his chair, Hermione stroking Crookshanks with an air of victory, and Harry sighing as he watches them both.

  Just as Adam prepares to head up to his dormitory for a short nap before curfew, Hermione suddenly leans toward him and murmurs, "I’m coming to the Room of Requirement with you again, like before."

  He nods, grateful for the company.

  With that, he makes his way upstairs, his thoughts already shifting toward tonight’s experiment. Another attempt at the Space Explode spell awaits—this time, with Hermione’s assistance.

  Adam and Hermione finally arrive at the Room of Requirement, the torches along the corridor flickering as they step inside. The room shifts and reshapes in response to Adam’s needs, forming a controlled practice area similar to before but with enhanced safety measures. The walls gleam with protective enchantments, and the atmosphere hums faintly with magic, ensuring that any mishap remains contained.

  Hermione looks around in fascination. “It’s different this time,” she observes. “The room must be adjusting itself based on your intentions.”

  Adam nods. “Yeah. I’m experimenting with a spell, and I need your input on related magic. That way, the room will provide the safest conditions for practice.”

  Hermione’s intrigue deepens. “What kind of spell?” she asks, curiosity lighting up her eyes.

  Adam hesitates before shaking his head. “It’s too dangerous—even for me. I don’t want you learning it, not even by accident.”

  She frowns but doesn’t argue, sensing his seriousness. “Then how exactly am I helping?”

  “I need your knowledge on the Extension Charm and any related spatial spells,” Adam explains. “I’m also using Reverte Incantatem as a failsafe when things go wrong, so your insights on that will be useful, too.” He teaches her how to use Reverte Incantatem.

  Hermione nods, still a little disappointed that she won’t get to learn the spell itself but pleased to be involved nonetheless. “Alright,” she says, “I can work with that—and you taught me a spell.”

  With that settled, Adam begins his setup, just as he has done before. He retrieves several small bags from his expanded pouch, placing them in a line across the practice floor. As he raises his hand, he whispers the incantation under his breath—just low enough that Hermione can’t catch the words.

  The first attempt results in the bag imploding, the air around it rippling unnaturally. Hermione immediately counters with Reverte Incantatem, undoing the distortion before any real damage can occur. She watches intently, occasionally offering observations on magical stability and containment principles, which Adam integrates into his adjustments.

  They repeat the process multiple times, engaging in a cycle of trial and error. Each time, Adam refines his technique, whispering the spell so softly that even the magic in the air seems to strain to catch it. Hermione, despite her curiosity, respects his caution and focuses on providing relevant insights on spatial distortions and magical containment.

  After some time, Adam senses that he has reached his limit for the night. He glances at Hermione, who is already absorbed in reading and studying her own materials. Seeing that she is fully engrossed, he quietly moves to a separate section of the room, shifting his focus to an advanced spell he has been working on—one unrelated to the forbidden magic. Finally, once it is close to midnight, they both return to their respective dorms, and Adam sleeps peacefully.