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Chapter 53 - 0053 The Notebook

In fact, Adrian had been quietly observing Quirrell's situation all along.

For Adrian, the sooner he could resolve the issue of Quirrell and the Voldemort attached to the back of his head, the sooner he could rest easy.

But no matter what, even this version of Voldemort couldn't be underestimated.

Moreover, even if he were to eliminate Quirrell and Voldemort right now, it wouldn't solve the fundamental problem.

After all, Voldemort still had those troublesome things called Horcruxes.

From what he could see, there was only one way to defeat Voldemort: find and destroy all his Horcruxes.

Unfortunately, Adrian's memory about this part was very limited.

What exactly were Voldemort's Horcruxes, and where were they stored? Adrian could only remember a small portion of these Horcruxes.

What made matters worse was that Harry Potter himself was one of Voldemort's Horcruxes.

If events unfolded according to the original storyline, although Harry eventually completely destroyed Voldemort, the ending wasn't entirely satisfying.

Adrian didn't like that storyline as there were many unpleasant deaths. Moreover, with Adrian as a new variable this time, the story would likely not proceed along its predetermined path.

Thinking about this, Adrian couldn't help but feel a headache coming on.

In his office on Saturday, Adrian closed the notebook in his hand, placed it on the desk, and slowly exhaled.

Especially, the cover of this notebook had no text, only a pattern of intertwining chains.

If observed carefully, one would notice that these chains weren't stationary but moved with extremely slow, worm-like movements, as if alive.

Adrian raised his wand and gently tapped the cover.

Instantly, the chain pattern transformed, twisting and reshaping until they became real iron chains, spreading out and wrapping around the entire notebook.

This was a complex sealing spell.

It combined anti-theft charms, concealment charms, confusion charms, and Adrian's specialty—binding charms.

Even he would need at least half an hour to break this seal.

Adrian was confident that even Dumbledore would have to work hard to remove this sealing spell.

Of course, Adrian wouldn't dare expose this notebook to anyone, least of all Dumbledore.

After all, this notebook contained his greatest secret. That is—all the Harry Potter storylines he could remember.

Memory! It's an extremely fragile and sensitive thing.

Just organizing the scattered memories in Adrian's mind had taken considerable effort.

For ease of recall, Adrian had written down all the plot points and details he could think of in this notebook.

Whenever he needed to recall a specific detail, he could take out the notebook and reorganize his thoughts.

After reinforcing the sealing spell, Adrian hid the notebook on his person again.

Important things were safest when kept close.

Having completed all this, Adrian decided to visit the Hufflepuff common room. Since returning to Hogwarts, he hadn't been back there yet. Plus, the Fat Friar had extended a special invitation that morning.

"I want to properly explain to the students how I was executed by the church!"

That's what he had said. He also hoped Adrian would be there to listen.

Of course, Adrian didn't think this was a story that needed such grand announcement.

He had heard this story countless times before and believed that apart from the first-year students, no one would be curious about it.

Outside the Hufflepuff common room.

Entering the Hufflepuff common room was simple: one only needed to tap a certain barrel near the common room entrance to the rhythm of "Helga Hufflepuff." Tap it incorrectly, and you'd be doused with vinegar from the barrel.

When Adrian first enrolled, he frequently tapped incorrectly.

But!

He had quick reflexes.

Adrian always managed to dodge before the vinegar could drench him, then quickly cleaned up the scene with a Scouring Charm.

However, just as Adrian was about to seriously attempt the tapping sequence, the door suddenly opened from inside.

A fourth-year student was coming out.

Adrian recognized him as a student who had selected his Care of Magical Creatures class.

"Ah, Professor Westeros, are you coming in?"

"Yes, thank you."

Adrian nodded and squeezed through the doorway.

Well, not having to tap the barrel was best; he didn't like that annoying vinegar smell.

The Hufflepuff common room was much similar as Adrian remembered it: comfortable and natural.

There were no extravagant decorations; the only noteworthy feature was that there seemed to be more flowerpots than before—Professor Sprout often brought some of her plants to the common room.

Adrian stepped into the common room, his gaze sweeping across the area.

There weren't many students in the common room, just small groups chatting.

Just as he stopped walking...

"Professor Westeros!"

After someone called out, instantly all the students' eyes focused on him.

Adrian felt somewhat bewildered by their attention and could only smile awkwardly in greeting, "Good morning, everyone."

The students immediately gathered around him. Surrounded by students, Adrian was suddenly bombarded with chatter.

"Professor Westeros, you've finally come!"

"Professor Westeros, did you really do it?"

"Is that photograph real?"

Adrian was completely confused.

What had he done? What photograph? Why didn't he know anything about this?

Finally, a quick-thinking student resolved Adrian's confusion by bringing a photograph and handing it to him.

When Adrian took it and saw it, he was stunned.

It was a moving magical photograph.

And the main subject was him!

In the photo, he stood with a serious face by a wall of Hogwarts castle, and behind him on the wall hung a large group of people.

From their attire, they were clearly Slytherin students.

The content of the photograph was now obvious—it depicted something he had done in his fifth year.

Even more outrageous was that the photo featured a moving arrow specifically pointing out his position, with the words:

Adrian Adrian, Hufflepuff Fifth Year, In Commemoration. (Smiley face)

"..."

Adrian remained silent for a moment before finally asking somewhat peculiarly: "Can anyone tell me who found this photograph?"

The students looked at each other until finally, a male student scratched his head and answered: "Uh... nobody knows. I heard that some senior found it in a junk room last semester."

"A junk room?" Adrian raised an eyebrow.

"Third floor of the West Tower, Professor," the boy said excitedly. "So, is this photograph real, Professor? That would be so cool."

Adrian stared at the photograph for a few seconds, suddenly at a loss for words.

He finally understood why so many students seemed to recognize him when school started.

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