Dumbledore gently stroked Adelaide's wand, as if feeling the magic contained within it.
"Adelaide," Dumbledore's voice was low and gentle, "do you know that the Troll that broke into the Hogwarts basement tonight is dead? According to the preliminary investigation of the scene, it was burned to death by the Fiendfyre Curse, leaving no ashes or residue—someone took them all away."
A look of perfect astonishment appeared on Adelaide's face, her mouth slightly agape. It took a while for her to snap out of it, and she chimed in with surprise: "Who... who is that powerful? That was an adult Troll! As a second-year student, I'd only be able to run away if I saw it."
The expressions of the surrounding Professors became a bit strange, and Quirrell's face turned a bruised shade of purple—don't you have any self-awareness?
If you were just an ordinary second-year student, would Dumbledore have bothered to call you to the Headmaster's Office?
The problem was that Adelaide had done this flawlessly. Although Quirrell and Lord Voldemort were both cursing and swearing in their hearts that all the suffering they experienced tonight came from this little brat of the Grindelwald family, they had no evidence!
Moreover, Quirrell's behavior tonight had already shown some cracks. With Dumbledore's meticulous mind, it was impossible for him not to see that something was wrong with Quirrell, yet he still pretended to know nothing, treating Quirrell gently and even having Madam Pomfrey use the best Potions on him—to be honest, Lord Voldemort was feeling a bit apprehensive now.
If it weren't for the fact that his primary soul was truly reaching its limit, and that in a few years even Unicorn blood might not be able to save him, Lord Voldemort would not have infiltrated Hogwarts to take risks right under Dumbledore's nose.
Dumbledore scrutinized Adelaide with a sharp gaze, trying to find a single flaw in her words or actions, but the other party's acting and psychological resilience were simply too good; Dumbledore found nothing.
His mouth twitched slightly, and in the end, he didn't continue the interrogation. Instead, he changed the direction of the conversation: "Adelaide, were you in the Ravenclaw common room all night?"
Adelaide hurriedly shook her head and explained, "No, I wasn't. When it happened, I wasn't in the Great Hall, but in the bathroom."
"When I came out of the bathroom, I happened to run into Hermione. We chatted for a bit, then I walked her back to the Gryffindor Tower, and only after that did I return to the Ravenclaw common room. Once I was back, I stayed with Cho the whole time; we were eating fried chicken and playing with jack-o'-lanterns to celebrate Halloween."
Dumbledore shook his head helplessly. Since he couldn't find any fault with Adelaide, he simply stopped dwelling on it and decisively made a judgment: Adelaide had nothing to do with this matter.
He handed Adelaide's wand back to her, then turned to Professor Flitwick and said, "Filius, please escort Miss Adelaide back."
Flitwick breathed a sigh of relief. He didn't want his prize pupil to get caught up in Dumbledore's complicated plan to train The Chosen One.
As for Quirrell, Professor Flitwick similarly hoped Adelaide would stay far away from him; after all, this student had already strayed onto a crooked path.
The next morning, news that the Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor, Quirrell, had accidentally fallen from a height and been injured last night spread through the students like wildfire—though everyone was accustomed to the Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor having accidents during their tenure and didn't show much surprise.
Some gossiping students even began to compare Professor Quirrell with Professor MacFusty, who had been sent directly to St Mungos on Halloween the previous year, and they all praised Professor Quirrell for his luck in surviving.
This news also reached Lord Voldemort's ears, and he couldn't help but fall into deep thought—could it be because of his own curse that he was always mysteriously unlucky after infiltrating Hogwarts?
So, did I almost 'kill' myself?
This thought swirled in his mind, making him feel a bit uneasy.
Lord Voldemort had Quirrell secretly investigate the experiences of the past dozens of Defense Against the Dark Arts Professors, finally reaching a solemn conclusion: the Defense Against the Dark Arts teaching position at Hogwarts was indeed a bit cursed.
Perhaps the lingering resentment of the Professors who died from the curse over the years had caused the curse attached to the position to become much stronger than it was at the beginning, so much so that even his personal presence would be affected.
Hiss~
Once his injuries were fully healed, he would have to immediately urge Quirrell to find the Philosopher's Stone at any cost and then quickly flee Hogwarts.
Adelaide didn't know yet that she had made Lord Voldemort doubt himself. She was looking affectionately at Harry, Draco, and Ron, who were carefully avoiding Hermione and huddling in a corner to discuss how Snape's injury might be related to Cerberus, while Neville stood nearby with a nervous face on lookout duty.
Youth is so wonderful!
To be able to play detective games with good brothers so enthusiastically, with no worries or anxieties, only endless adventure and exploration.
Adelaide looked at Harry and the others and sighed, a hint of envy welling up in her heart.
As an exceptionally gifted genius girl, Adelaide couldn't enjoy her school days as carefree as others. She had to improve her acting skills to fool Dumbledore while accumulating strength, trip up Lord Voldemort, and juggle between Hermione, Cho Chang, Alice, Amandine, and Pansy. At night, she even had to go to Iceland to conduct experiments. She was truly the busiest student at Hogwarts.
Adelaide knew she couldn't waste any more time. She took one last deep look at Harry and the others, thinking about how to further provoke Snape to increase the difficulty of Harry's school life so he wouldn't be too idle, and then turned toward the Headmaster's Office.
Today was Sunday. Dumbledore had sent her a message last night; she had to go with him to St Mungos Hospital today to see Gellert Grindelwald.
Heh.
As expected, educators all over the world are the same; when they feel they can't discipline a child properly, their first reaction is to see the parents.
Adelaide complained inwardly, but her footsteps didn't falter as she walked straight toward the Headmaster's Office.
Dumbledore sat at his desk, rarely handling school affairs. His eyes lit up when he saw Adelaide arrive, and he immediately said to Professor McGonagall, who was beside a mountain of documents:
"Adelaide is here, I have to take her out now~ I'll leave the rest to you, Minerva."
Professor McGonagall looked up from the documents with a dark face, giving Dumbledore a death stare. Dumbledore subtly looked away and walked quickly toward Adelaide.
"Mr. Dumbledore, I don't think we need to go this early. You should finish your work first—"
Dumbledore interrupted Adelaide with righteous indignation: "What are you saying, silly child? Gellert Grindelwald is an A-level dangerous figure in the Wizarding World. We cannot be late and upset him over such trivial matters."
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