They finally arrived in London smoothly.
The journey wasn't entirely without its hitches—the massive Hagrid got stuck while passing through the subway turnstiles. Adelaide and Hermione pulled hard on his overcoat from the front, while Harry pushed desperately against Hagrid's back from behind. After a bit of a struggle, they finally managed to free Hagrid from his predicament.
As they left the subway exit, Harry appeared exceptionally excited—this was his first time setting foot in London, and everything was so novel.
In contrast, Hermione and Adelaide were much more composed, as both had grown up in this city. Currently, they were walking down a bustling street lined with shops and filled with people coming and going.
Hermione had walked this path many times before with Adelaide, but she had never heard that a passage to the Wizarding World was hidden here.
Although Hermione knew full well that Adelaide had kept these secrets to herself because she needed to follow the International Statute of Wizarding Secrecy, she couldn't help but glare fiercely at Adelaide at the thought of how many important things this girl had hidden from her over the years.
Adelaide received the sharp glare for no apparent reason and didn't dare ask why, only silently shifting her steps away from Hermione—which only made Hermione angrier. She used a grappling move to lock onto Adelaide's arm, rendering her unable to move. Adelaide could only give Hermione a placating smile and match her pace as they continued forward.
Led by Hagrid, the group eventually arrived between a large bookstore and a record shop—standing right there was a small pub that looked somewhat out of place with its surroundings. Its dilapidated sign, mottled walls, and slightly dim lighting all proclaimed its uniqueness.
"This is the Leaky Cauldron, a very famous place in the Wizarding World."
Hagrid introduced it to the three of them while leading them inside.
As soon as they entered, the noisy chatter that had filled the entire pub seemed to stop abruptly, as if by magic.
People's gazes shifted toward the four at the door, and for a moment, the air inside the Leaky Cauldron seemed to freeze.
In a corner, an old woman smoking a long pipe turned her head slightly and muttered in a low voice to her friend, who was sipping sherry: "Look, that child seems to be Grindelwald the Second..."
Although these words were whispered softly, they reached everyone's ears clearly in the sudden silence.
Countless question marks instantly popped up in Adelaide's head. When had she become so famous?
Thinking back to when she came to Diagon Alley to buy supplies last year, she was just a small fry next to Dumbledore... Huh?
Adelaide keenly noticed that among the many gazes directed at them, one filled with malice caught her attention.
She pretended nothing was wrong and subtly glanced out of the corner of her eye, quickly locking onto the target—a young man sitting alone in a corner with a striking purple turban wrapped around his head. This must be the newly appointed Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor, Professor Quirrell.
Adelaide's eyes rolled as a plan formed in her mind.
She reached out to pull Hermione to the side, cleverly making room so that Harry happened to be standing right at the front, directly exposed to everyone's sight.
At the same time, Adelaide raised her voice and said loudly, "Hagrid, Mr. Dumbledore has high expectations for you, entrusting The Chosen One to your care—you must not let drinking get in the way of business!"
Hearing this praise, Hagrid couldn't help but straighten his back, his face full of pride and self-satisfaction. He responded in a gruff voice, "That goes without saying, I'm certainly not drinking today; when I, Hagrid, do things, I'm always reliable!"
"The Chosen One?" someone in the crowd asked in confusion.
"Could this be Harry Potter!" another person's voice cracked with excitement.
"Merlin's suspenders! Harry Potter is right in front of me!" yet another exclaimed in amazement.
Sure enough, The Chosen One's title as a 'Wizarding World superstar' wasn't just talk; Harry instantly succeeded in attracting the attention of everyone present.
Poor Harry didn't even have time to react before he suddenly found himself surrounded by people, each vying to reach out and shake his hand to show their respect.
The corners of Adelaide's mouth curled up slightly, and her eyes, bright as stars, watched the scene with interest, focusing on Harry, who looked somewhat at a loss while being swarmed by the enthusiastic crowd.
Minutes passed as the noisy voices rose and fell—finally, after a long wait, it was Professor Quirrell's turn.
He was seen taking small, nervous steps, his body trembling slightly, appearing a bit uneasy about the upcoming encounter.
"P-P-Potter, I'm v-very h-happy to meet you!"
Quirrell said stutteringly, while extending his right hand to try and shake Harry's.
Although he was speaking to Harry, his gaze involuntarily drifted toward Adelaide standing nearby.
He continued to stumble through his words: "A-and M-Miss Grindelwald, I s-suppose you b-both won't n-need to l-learn Defense Against the Dark Arts anymore?"
Having said that, he suddenly broke into a neurotic laugh. The laughter was sharp and piercing, like the screech of an owl, making one's skin crawl.
Hermione, standing nearby, was clearly startled by Quirrell's sudden behavior. She gripped Adelaide's arm tightly in terror, the force so great that Adelaide felt a pang of pain.
Under the physical assault, Adelaide almost couldn't help but scream out, but she forced herself to calm down and tried to maintain a surface-level composure.
At this moment, Quirrell didn't seem to notice anything unusual. He was still immersed in his own world and wanted to say more, but unfortunately, the people eager to interact with Harry wouldn't give this stutterer another chance.
They surged forward, unceremoniously pushing Quirrell aside. Quirrell's thin frame swayed as he was shoved by the crowd, looking quite pathetic.
Seeing this, Adelaide couldn't help but lightly raise her eyebrows.
To be honest, her first impression of Professor Quirrell upon their first meeting wasn't very good at all.
On the surface, Quirrell was a submissive stutterer, but in reality, his heart was full of hatred for his own weak and incompetent self. His thirst for power drove him to pursue the ultimate, even at the cost of submitting to the lingering soul of Lord Voldemort, willingly becoming his lowly servant and sharing a body—he could be called the most obsessed person in Ravenclaw.
The same could be said for next year's Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor, Gilderoy Lockhart. He detested his own ordinary self, and to achieve so-called ultimate perfection, he resolutely gave up everything else to devote himself entirely to the study of the Memory Charm.
Whether through theft or seizing the results of others, he would do whatever it took to create that flawless image.
Neither of them were suitable candidates for a Hogwarts Professor, but due to the trouble caused by the curse, Dumbledore didn't have many choices and just had to make do.
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