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[ Shadow Monarch in One Piece].
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Third POV:
Hermione moved so fast it was almost unnatural.
One second she was on top of Adam—frozen in that fragile, dangerous moment, her hands still pressed against his chest, her hair still falling around both of them like a curtain blocking out the rest of the world—
The next, she was already on her feet, turning away sharply, brushing her hair back with quick, slightly aggressive movements as if that alone could erase what just happened. Her fingers combed through the strands again and again, tucking loose pieces behind her ears, smoothing down the flyaways that had escaped during the fall. Her hands moved like they were trying to fix something that couldn't be fixed, like if she just adjusted her appearance enough, the last thirty seconds would stop replaying in her head.
Her face?
Still completely red.
Not slightly.
Not a little.
Completely.
The color had spread from her cheeks to her ears to her neck, warm and unmistakable. She could feel the heat radiating off her own skin, could feel the pulse beating in her temples. Her lips were pressed together so tightly they had almost disappeared, a thin line of determination that looked more like panic dressed up as control.
She crossed her arms tightly, looking anywhere but at him. Her eyes darted to the trees, to Hagrid's house, to the sky, to the grass—anywhere that wasn't the boy still lying on the ground a few feet away. Her posture was stiff, her shoulders drawn up, her breathing just a bit uneven—trying very hard to regain control.
Her fingernails dug into her own arms through her sleeves.
Breathe. Just breathe. Nothing happened. Nothing almost happened. You're fine. Everything is fine.
Adam, on the other hand, remained flat on the ground.
Staring at the sky.
Blinking slowly.
His arms stayed where they had fallen, spread out slightly on either side of him, palms up against the grass. The damp earth soaked into his sleeves, but he didn't notice. His chest rose and fell with slow, measured breaths, but his mind was moving at a completely different speed—racing through what had just happened, what had almost happened, what had been interrupted right at the worst possible moment.
"…You've got to be kidding me…" he muttered under his breath.
His voice was low, almost a whisper, meant only for himself and the clouds drifting overhead.
His hand moved to his face, dragging down slowly from his forehead to his chin. The motion pulled at his skin, stretched his mouth into a brief, strange shape before his hand fell back to the grass with a soft thud.
"…I was this close…"
He lifted his hand and held it up toward the sky, thumb and forefinger barely a centimeter apart. He stared at the gap between his fingers, then let his hand drop back down.
A pause.
His jaw tightened slightly.
"…What if I just murder whoever screamed her name…?"
He turned his head slightly, eyes narrowing at nothing in particular. His gaze drifted toward the direction the voice had come from—the path leading up from the castle, the same path where two familiar figures had appeared at the exact wrong second.
His voice dropped even lower, almost thoughtful.
"…Would that be considered justified?"
"Thank God we arrived in time…"
Adam's thoughts died instantly.
He turned his head fully.
Standing there—like two perfectly timed disasters—were Harry and Ron.
Ron looked relieved.
Way too relieved.
His shoulders had dropped from wherever they had been carried up to during his run across the grounds. His face was slightly flushed from the effort, but his expression was pure, uncomplicated relief, like he had just prevented a catastrophe without realizing he had walked right into the middle of a different one entirely.
"You were probably going to kill each other."
Ron nodded at his own words, clearly pleased with his assessment of the situation.
Adam pushed himself up slightly on his elbows, giving him a flat look. Grass clung to the back of his shirt, and a few blades stuck to his damp hair, but he didn't bother brushing them off. His eyes were half-lidded, unimpressed, carrying the weight of someone who had been interrupted during something important and was not about to forget it.
"With pleasure…" he said lazily, dragging out the words like he was savoring them. "…Perhaps, yeah."
His gaze flickered toward Hermione for just a second—just long enough to catch the way her arms tightened across her chest, the way her jaw clenched.
Hermione rolled her eyes so hard it was honestly impressive. Her whole head moved with the motion, like she was trying to physically eject the last few minutes from her brain through sheer force of will. She finally turned back, glaring at him with an intensity that could have set fire to dry grass.
"Shut up…"
Adam tilted his head, smirk already forming.
The corners of his mouth lifted slowly, deliberately, like he knew exactly what he was doing and didn't care at all.
"What now…?"
His voice was light, teasing, carrying that same lazy confidence that had been there before the fall, before the almost-kiss, before everything had gotten complicated. Like nothing had changed. Like he hadn't almost—
She didn't hesitate.
"Idiot."
The word came out sharp, quick, thrown like a dart aimed right between his eyes.
He nodded once, like he expected it. Like he had been waiting for it.
"Angry cat."
Her eyes narrowed.
The shift was subtle but immediate. Her posture straightened, her chin lifted slightly, and her voice took on that precise, clipped tone she used when she was about to dismantle someone with words.
"At least I don't sleep through responsibilities like a brainless troll."
Adam's smirk didn't waver.
"At least I don't scream like one every five minutes."
"At least I care about rules!"
"At least I have a life outside of books!"
Her voice climbed higher.
"At least I'm not completely insufferable!"
He tilted his head, pretending to consider it.
"Debatable."
She took a step closer.
The grass crunched under her shoe. Her arms uncrossed, then crossed again, like she wasn't sure whether she wanted to hit him or just keep arguing.
"Hopeless."
He matched it instantly.
His own foot moved forward, closing the distance she had just created. Water still squelched from his shoes with the movement, but he didn't seem to notice or care.
"Ice Queen."
She crossed her arms again, tighter this time, her fingers gripping her own sleeves.
"Arrogant jerk."
He smirked wider.
"Bossy nightmare."
"Irresponsible idiot."
"Overreacting—"
"—Know-it-all—"
"—Control freak—"
"—Annoying—"
"—Cold—"
"—Insufferable—"
"—Ice Queen."
She jabbed a finger toward him.
"…Don't repeat yourself!"
His smirk softened into something almost affectionate, which somehow made it worse.
"Make me."
"Gladly."
"Try."
"Idiot."
"Cat."
"Moron."
"Queen."
"—UGH!!"
She threw her hands up, spinning halfway around before turning back, her hair flipping over her shoulder with the motion. Her face was still red, but now it was mixed with frustration and something else—something that looked almost like she was fighting back a smile she would never admit to having.
In the middle of this escalating verbal war—
Harry leaned slightly toward Ron.
His head tilted just a fraction, his glasses catching the sunlight as he watched the exchange with the expression of someone who had seen this happen before and had learned not to interfere.
"…They're okay."
Ron nodded slowly.
His eyebrows were raised, his mouth slightly open, like he was watching a tennis match where both players were somehow losing and winning at the same time.
"…Yeah… we should probably leave them."
He took a small step backward, then another, like he was slowly retreating from a room where a delicate experiment was about to explode.
"Guys…" Ron tried, his voice uncertain, caught somewhere between a question and a plea.
Both Adam and Hermione snapped their heads toward him instantly.
Their voices came together, sharp and synchronized, like they had rehearsed it.
"YOU SHUT UP."
Ron froze.
His hands went up in front of him, palms out, a universal signal of surrender. His eyes went wide, and his mouth closed so fast his teeth clicked.
"…Sorry."
He stepped back. Immediately.
No hesitation.
Harry coughed lightly, stepping in. His shoulders were relaxed, his expression carefully neutral, like he was approaching a situation that required diplomatic handling.
"Anyway… we were worried when Hermione left the class and came here. We thought she was in trouble."
His eyes moved between them, calm and assessing, clearly noticing more than he was letting on.
Adam raised an eyebrow, slowly turning his head toward Hermione with a very specific smirk.
It wasn't his usual teasing smile. It was slower, more deliberate, carrying a weight that made Hermione's stomach flip.
"…So…"
He let the word hang in the air, stretching it out, letting it fill the space between them.
A pause.
His voice dropped slightly, just enough to make it feel private even though Harry and Ron were standing right there.
"…you were missing me?"
Hermione's face went red again—faster this time.
The color didn't creep up gradually. It exploded across her cheeks like someone had dropped a bucket of paint. Her mouth opened, then closed, then opened again. Her hands flapped slightly at her sides, a gesture of pure, unfiltered panic.
"I was NOT—"
"Hello!"
A deep voice cut through everything.
It rumbled across the clearing, low and warm, carrying the kind of presence that made everyone stop talking at once.
They all turned.
Hagrid approached them, his massive figure casting a long shadow that stretched across the grass. He was wearing his usual oversized coat, the one with too many pockets, and his boots left deep prints in the damp earth with every step. His beard was slightly disheveled, like he had just woken up, and his eyes moved across the group with a mix of curiosity and mild confusion.
"What are you doin' here, you lot?"
His voice was genuinely puzzled, like he had stepped outside for a morning stroll and found a small crowd camped on his doorstep.
Adam straightened slightly, brushing some dirt off his already ruined clothes. The motion was half-hearted at best—his shirt was still soaked, his pants still covered in grass stains, and his hair still looked like he had lost a fight with a waterfall. A few more blades of grass fell from his sleeve as he moved.
"I overslept here… it seems."
His voice was casual, like this was a perfectly normal thing to say. Like finding someone asleep outside your house at midday was an everyday occurrence.
Hagrid blinked once.
His bushy eyebrows rose slightly, then lowered. His mouth opened, closed, then opened again. He looked at Adam, then at the flattened grass where he had been lying, then back at Adam.
Then nodded like that somehow made sense.
His massive head bobbed up and down slowly, accepting the information without question.
"Right… well, come on then." He gestured toward the house with a hand the size of a dinner plate. "Let me get yeh somethin' to eat."
He turned toward his front door, his heavy footsteps thudding against the ground, completely unaware of the tension he had just walked into.
Adam glanced at Hermione.
Hermione glanced at Adam.
Neither of them said anything.
Harry and Ron exchanged a look—the kind of look that said we're not going to ask—and started following Hagrid toward the house.
Adam fell into step behind them, his wet shoes still making soft squishing noises with every step.
Hermione waited a moment.
Then followed.
Her face was still slightly pink.
But she was smiling.
Just a little.
Just enough.
And if anyone noticed, they didn't say a word.
And just like that—
The chaos paused.
For now.
[ End of Chapter 36].
To Be Continued...
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Another quick Chapter.... For now....
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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 .
If you like this one. Cheek also my other stories:
[ Shadow Monarch in One Piece].
Patreon.com/Doflamingo4.
Thank you all for reading... and for the support.