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[ Shadow Monarch in One Piece].
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( Don't Forget Power Stones....)
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Third POV:
"Idiot."
The word hadn't even settled in the air before Adam's eyes narrowed.
It hung there for a moment, small but sharp, like a needle suspended in mid-air before dropping. The fire crackled in the background, the wood settling, but no one in the room moved. Even the wind outside seemed to pause, pressing against the window but not making a sound.
Slowly—very slowly—he turned his head toward Hermione.
His neck moved inch by inch, deliberate, unhurried, like he had all the time in the world and was choosing to spend every second of it on this. His jaw was set, not tight enough to clench, but firm enough to show that he had heard her. That he wasn't going to let it slide.
There it was again.
That spark.
That sharp, rising tension that neither of them ever seemed willing to let go of. It crackled between them like the fire in the hearth, invisible but undeniable, filling the space between their chairs with something that made the air feel heavier.
Hermione didn't back down. Not even slightly. Her chin lifted just a fraction, her arms crossing again as if she was preparing for impact. Her shoulders squared, her spine straightened, her whole body settling into the familiar stance of someone who had never lost an argument and wasn't about to start now. Her eyes met his without flinching, brown against dark, both of them refusing to be the first to look away.
Adam leaned forward a little in his chair, his voice low.
The wood creaked under his weight as he shifted, the front legs of his chair settling more firmly onto the stone floor. His elbows came to rest on the table, his fingers interlacing loosely in front of him. His head tilted slightly, just enough to change the angle of his gaze.
"…You really don't know when to stop, do you?"
His voice was quiet. Almost soft. But there was something underneath it—something that wasn't soft at all. Something that sounded like the moment before a storm breaks, when the wind dies and the birds go silent and everything waits.
"Oh noooo…"
Ron's voice dragged out in pure dread as he leaned back, already sensing what was coming.
His chair scraped against the floor, the sound sharp in the tense silence. His hands came up slightly, palms out, like he was trying to ward off something invisible. His eyes darted between Adam and Hermione, wide and worried, the way someone looks at a pot that's about to boil over.
He covered part of his face with his hand.
His fingers pressed against his forehead, then slid down to cover his eyes, then his mouth, as if he could block out the argument by blocking out his vision.
"Please don't tell me…"
His voice was muffled behind his palm, but the pleading tone came through loud and clear.
Harry sighed quietly beside him, rubbing his temple.
His fingers pressed circles into the side of his head, slow and tired, like he was trying to massage away a headache that hadn't fully formed yet. His green eyes moved from Adam to Hermione and back again, carrying the weary expression of someone who had seen this happen before and knew exactly how it was going to end.
The tension in the room began to rise—noticeably, tangibly.
It wasn't loud.
It wasn't explosive.
It was worse.
It was building.
Like heat trapped under a lid, getting hotter and hotter with nowhere to go. The kind of tension that made your shoulders creep up toward your ears without you telling them to. The kind that made you hold your breath without realizing you were doing it.
The fire cracked sharply in the silence, as if reacting to it.
A log shifted in the hearth, sending a spray of orange sparks up the chimney. The sound was loud, sudden, but no one flinched. No one looked away from the two people at the center of the growing storm.
Hermione's eyes locked onto Adam's.
Adam didn't look away.
Two forces—colliding again.
Right on the edge of starting.
The space between them felt smaller than it was. The table that separated them felt like it wasn't there at all. They were close, suddenly, even though neither of them had moved. Close enough that the heat of the argument seemed to pass back and forth like a thing with weight.
Then—
"OF COURSE YEH CAN!!"
Hagrid's booming voice shattered the moment like a hammer breaking glass.
The sound was so loud, so sudden, so completely unexpected that it seemed to push the air out of the room. It bounced off the wooden walls, off the stone floor, off the ceiling, filling every corner of the small house with its force.
All heads turned instantly toward him.
Ron's hand dropped from his face. Harry's fingers stopped rubbing his temple. Hermione's head snapped away from Adam, her attention pulled by the sheer volume of Hagrid's interruption.
Adam clicked his tongue softly, leaning back again, his attention shifting—but not without one last glance at Hermione.
His eyes lingered on her for a moment longer than necessary, taking in the set of her jaw, the slight flush on her cheeks, the way her fingers were curled into the fabric of her sleeves. Then he looked away, settling back into his chair, his expression unreadable.
She looked away first this time.
Just a fraction of a second. Just a tiny shift of her gaze toward the window. But it happened. And Adam noticed. Of course he noticed.
Hagrid, completely unaware of the near-disaster he had just prevented, continued enthusiastically.
His massive hands gestured as he spoke, fingers spreading wide, arms sweeping through the air. His face was bright, his eyes shining, his whole body radiating the kind of excitement that came from sharing something he loved.
"There's Hogsmeade—nice little village, yeh'll love it when yeh're allowed ter go. An' Knockturn Alley… though that one yeh're not permitted—too dangerous."
He counted on his fingers as he spoke.
His thick digits folded down one by one, starting with his thumb. First Hogsmeade, then Knockturn Alley. He paused for a moment, thinking, then opened another finger.
"Then there's—"
"No…"
Adam cut in.
Not loud.
But firm enough to stop him.
His voice wasn't raised. It wasn't sharp. It was calm, steady, the kind of calm that came from certainty rather than indifference. The word landed in the middle of Hagrid's sentence like a stone dropped into still water.
Everyone turned back to him.
Ron's eyebrows lifted. Harry's head tilted. Hagrid's mouth closed mid-word, his expression shifting from excitement to curiosity.
Even Hermione.
Her gaze moved toward him despite herself, drawn by the shift in his tone. She didn't look at his face—not directly—but her eyes landed somewhere near his shoulder, close enough to see his expression in her peripheral vision.
"…That's not what I mean."
A brief silence followed.
The fire crackled. The wind pressed against the window. The Core pulsed faintly on the side table, forgotten for the moment.
Adam leaned forward slightly now, his tone more focused.
His elbows returned to the table, his fingers unlacing and relacing in a different pattern. His shoulders were relaxed, but there was a tension in his posture—a coiled energy, like a spring being pressed down.
"What I meant is… places where there's no limitation of magic."
He paused.
His eyes moved across their faces, one by one, before settling somewhere in the middle distance, like he was looking at something none of them could see.
"…Different places. Different… people."
The way he said it—
It wasn't just curiosity.
His voice had changed. Gone was the lazy teasing, the casual indifference, the smirk that seemed to live permanently on his face. In its place was something quieter. Something more serious. Something that sounded almost like longing, but not quite.
It was something deeper.
Something searching.
Hagrid's expression shifted.
Subtly.
The enthusiasm faded just a little, replaced by something more cautious. His eyebrows drew together, not in confusion but in consideration. His mouth pressed into a thin line, hidden somewhere beneath his beard. The light from the fire caught his eyes, making them look older than they usually did.
He looked at Adam carefully.
Very carefully.
His gaze moved across Adam's face, studying his expression, his posture, the way his fingers were interlaced on the table. He wasn't just listening to the words. He was reading everything underneath them.
As if trying to read something behind his eyes.
The silence stretched between them, longer than before, heavier. The others in the room seemed to fade into the background, becoming observers rather than participants. Harry's green eyes moved between Hagrid and Adam, curious. Ron's face was uncharacteristically serious. Hermione's gaze had finally lifted to Adam's face, her earlier annoyance replaced by something else—something that looked almost like concern.
Then—
Hagrid exhaled deeply.
His chest rose and fell, the movement visible even through his thick coat. The air left his lungs in a slow, controlled stream, carrying with it some of the warmth that had filled the room moments ago.
"Probably…"
A pause.
His eyes didn't leave Adam's face.
"…yeh shouldn't know that just yet."
The words were gentle but firm. Not a rejection, exactly. More like a postponement. A door that wasn't being locked, just closed for now.
The room quieted again.
"As I told yeh… the wizardin' world is big. Vast… an' truly breath-takin'."
He looked at each of them now.
His gaze moved from Harry to Ron to Hermione, then back to Adam. Including all of them in what he was about to say, even though the question had come from one person alone.
"…But…"
He stopped.
Right there.
His mouth stayed open for a moment, the word hanging unfinished on his lips. His eyes dropped to the table, then to his hands, then to the fire. He was thinking. Choosing his next words carefully.
Ron leaned forward immediately.
His chair creaked under the sudden movement, the legs scraping against the stone floor. His elbows hit the table, his chin dropping toward his hands, his eyes wide with anticipation.
"Why did you stop?! That was the best part!"
His voice was loud in the quiet room, carrying a note of genuine frustration. He looked like someone who had been reading a book and had just had it snatched out of his hands at the most exciting chapter.
"Shhhhhh!!"
All three voices—Harry, Hermione, and Adam—cut in at once.
A sharp, synchronized hush.
The three of them didn't look at each other. Didn't acknowledge that they had spoken at the same time. But the sound of their voices overlapping, blending together into a single command, was impossible to ignore.
Ron froze mid-motion.
His mouth closed. His eyes widened. His body went still, like a deer caught in torchlight.
"…Sorry." he whispered.
His voice was small, apologetic, the voice of someone who had been reminded of his place in the group and was retreating back into it.
Hagrid continued, his tone now more serious.
The lightness had drained from his voice, replaced by something heavier. Something that sounded like experience. Like memory.
"It's not for the weak-hearted."
The fire crackled again.
The sound seemed louder now, sharper, like it was punctuating his words.
"Not all places out there… are places yeh can survive in."
His eyes lingered slightly on Adam.
Just a moment longer than the others. Just enough to make it clear who he was really talking to.
"That's why Hogwarts' first objective is yer safety."
A beat passed.
His massive hand rested on the table, fingers spread, palm flat against the wood.
"For now… that's all yeh should care about."
Then, softer—
His voice dropped, becoming quieter, more intimate. The kind of voice you use when you're saying something important but don't want to make a big deal out of it.
"Well… we don't know what can happen in the future."
Silence followed.
Not the sharp silence of tension, but the soft silence of thought. The kind that settles over a room when everyone is processing the same thing, each in their own way.
Adam leaned back slowly.
His chair tilted onto its back legs again, balancing on two pegs. His arms crossed over his chest, his expression thoughtful, his eyes distant.
Then turned his head just enough to glance at Hermione.
A faint smirk appeared.
The corner of his mouth lifted, just slightly, just enough to be noticeable. His eyes crinkled at the edges, carrying a hint of the old teasing, the old confidence, the old Adam who had been hidden behind the serious questions.
"…See?"
A pause.
His smirk widened just a fraction.
"…Who's the idiot now?"
Hermione's eyes snapped toward him instantly—
Her mouth opened, ready to fire back, ready to defend herself, ready to launch into whatever sharp retort was already forming on her tongue.
But before she could respond—
"Don't yeh have classes?!" Hagrid suddenly said.
The words boomed across the table, cutting through the moment like a blade through cloth. His eyebrows were raised, his eyes wide, his expression caught somewhere between amusement and genuine concern.
The four of them froze.
Harry's hand stopped mid-reach for his bag. Ron's mouth, which had been opening to say something, closed again. Adam's smirk faded into a blink of confusion. Hermione's retort died on her lips.
Then—
"Ohhhh—!!"
All at once.
The sound came from four different mouths at the same time, a collective realization that hit them like a wave. Chairs scraped loudly against the floor as they jumped to their feet, the wood screeching against the stone in a chorus of sharp, urgent sounds.
Panic.
"We're late—!"
"Again!"
"Oh no—Snape—!"
The names and exclamations overlapped, tumbling over each other in a rush of adrenaline and dread. Ron's face had gone pale. Harry was already reaching for the door. Hermione was straightening her robes, her earlier argument forgotten in the face of a much more immediate threat.
"Goodbye, Hagrid! See you!"
They rushed toward the door in a chaotic mess, nearly tripping over each other as they pushed it open and ran out into the daylight. Ron's foot caught on the doorframe, sending him stumbling forward before he caught himself. Harry ducked under a low-hanging beam. Hermione's hair flew behind her as she ran, a stream of brown against the green of the grass.
Hagrid barely had time to wave.
His massive hand lifted, then dropped, as the door swung shut behind them, leaving him alone in the sudden silence with the fire and the stew and the pulsing Core.
---
Outside—
They ran.
Fast.
Gravel crunched under their feet, scattering in all directions with each hurried step. The sound was loud in the open air, mixing with their heavy breathing and the distant calls of birds somewhere in the trees. The castle loomed ahead, gray and massive, its towers reaching toward the sky like fingers grasping for something just out of reach.
Harry in front.
His dark hair bounced with each stride, his robes flapping behind him. His glasses were slightly crooked, pushed askew by the rush of movement, but he didn't stop to fix them.
Ron close behind.
His longer legs gave him an advantage, his strides eating up the ground between him and Harry. His face was flushed, his mouth open, his breath coming in quick gasps.
Hermione keeping pace.
Her running was more controlled than the boys', more efficient. Her arms pumped at her sides, her feet landed softly, her breathing was steady despite the speed. Her eyes were fixed on the castle, calculating how much time they had left.
Adam slowed for just a second.
Just a moment.
His feet stopped moving, his shoes grinding to a halt on the gravel path. His chest rose and fell, not from exhaustion but from thought. His head lifted slightly, his gaze moving past the castle, past the grounds, past everything he could see.
Thoughtful.
Well… that's interesting…
His eyes narrowed slightly, focusing on something only he could see. The sky above was blue, scattered with clouds, empty of everything except light and air and distance.
After all… my main quest from those damn gods is to reach Middle-earth… by my own choice.
A faint smirk formed.
His lips curved upward, slow and deliberate, carrying none of the teasing from before. This was different. Private. Meant only for him.
And Hogwarts…
His eyes traced the outline of the castle, the towers, the windows, the bridge that connected one part to another.
…is just my first destination.
"OI! ADAM!"
Ron's voice snapped him back.
The sound was sharp, carried on the wind, cutting through his thoughts like a stone through glass. Adam blinked once, the distant look fading from his eyes, replaced by the familiar calm of someone returning to the present.
He looked ahead.
The three of them had stopped further up, turning back toward him. Waiting.
Harry stood with his hands on his knees, catching his breath. Ron had one hand raised, still waving from where he had called out. Hermione was looking at him with an expression he couldn't quite read—not annoyed, not worried, something in between.
"…Yeah, yeah."
He exhaled lightly, the breath leaving his lungs in a soft rush. Then he jogged forward to catch up.
His feet found their rhythm again, gravel crunching beneath his shoes, the castle growing larger with each step. The wind brushed against his face, cool and fresh, carrying the smell of grass and earth and something else—something that felt like possibility.
Together—
They ran back toward the castle.
Four figures on a path, moving as one, leaving behind the small wooden house and the half-giant and the glowing Core that pulsed on in the silence.
The day was still young.
_____
[ End of Chapter 39].
To Be Continued...
_________________
If you want to read more about my works or just to support me then here is my patreon:
Patreon.com/Doflamingo4 .
__
If you liked this one. Cheek also my other stories :
[ Shadow Monarch in One Piece].
Patreon.com/Doflamingo4 .
Thank you all for reading...