After bidding farewell to the enthusiastic Hufflepuff students, Adrian returned to his office.
As for the photograph, Adrian had specially framed it and placed it on the bookshelf in his office, but then turned it face down.
It still held significant sentimental value.
However, before this photograph could spread around, it would be more appropriate to keep it tucked away.
After all, if Slytherin students or professors were to discover it, it might cause unnecessary trouble.
The current era was not like his student days, when situations were more volatile.
Most Slytherin students were quite normal, and the "pure-blood supremacy" ideology wasn't as widespread as Adrian had imagined.
Just as he finished these thoughts, the window of his office was suddenly pushed open by a gust of wind.
Ray flew in from outside, landing gracefully on Adrian's desk. As a Thunderbird, Ray wouldn't typically summon storms and lightning without reason—that would attract too much attention—so today's weather remained normal.
Moreover, when Thunderbirds summoned storms and lightning, it also consumed their energy.
After spending some time together, Adrian discovered that Thunderbirds had much higher intelligence than dragons.
Even after all this time, Torch still struggled to understand what Adrian said.
As far as he knew, the words Torch could understand included but were not limited to: roll over, sit down, and dinner time.
This level of intelligence might be lower than that of a Crup.
But Thunderbirds were different. Now, Ray could understand most of Adrian's commands.
For example, Adrian had instructed Ray to keep watch on Quirrell's movements from a distance.
Due to the Thunderbird's high sensitivity, if Quirrell or the Voldemort on his head detected Ray even slightly, Ray would know precisely and keep far away.
"What's wrong, Ray?" Adrian took a small package of dried fish from the drawer and handed it to Ray while asking, "Has the person I asked you to watch made any moves?"
Ray gently fluttered his wings and made a soft cry.
Though Adrian couldn't understand bird language, thanks to their "contract," he could somewhat grasp Ray's meaning.
"Quirrell has left Hogwarts?" Adrian guessed.
Ray nodded, then shook his head, while picking up the dried fish from Adrian's hand.
"..."
Now Adrian really wished he could learn the Thunderbird language.
Finally, after several minutes of communication, Adrian learned the message Ray wanted to convey.
Quirrell had walked a large circle around the Black Lake and was now heading toward the main gate.
In fact, Adrian had noticed early on that Quirrell had been wandering around various corners of Hogwarts.
As for why he was doing this...
Adrian speculated it was because Quirrell didn't know where the Philosopher's Stone was currently hidden, so he could only rely on this method to try his luck.
And now, Quirrell seemed to be planning to temporarily leave Hogwarts for the weekend.
"Rest well, Ray."
Adrian waved his wand, and the box in the corner opened accordingly.
Ray obediently flew inside, while Adrian quickly donned his cloak, preparing to personally follow Quirrell.
By the time he reached Hogwarts' main gate, Adrian had not spotted Quirrell.
Only Filch and his cat were there. This was normal, as Filch was Hogwarts' caretaker.
Filch was sitting on a bench, vigorously polishing a pair of gleaming manacles.
Adrian didn't like Filch as a person, but more than dislike, he felt a kind of sympathy.
Being a Squib working at Hogwarts, surrounded by wizards, couldn't be easy.
"Professor Westeros, are you going out?" Filch stood up holding Mrs. Norris, squinting at him.
Adrian stopped, showing a polite smile: "Mr. Filch, have you seen Professor Quirrell? I need to find him for something."
Filch nodded. Although he had little patience for students, he was respectful toward professors.
"Professor Quirrell? Oh, he just left," he said expressionlessly. "He was in quite a hurry, didn't even say hello. But, Professor, if you're looking for Professor Quirrell, it might be difficult. He vanished in an instant."
'Vanished in an instant? Probably Apparition, or perhaps a Portkey?' Adrian speculated.
Once outside Hogwarts, one could use Apparition.
This meant Adrian could no longer track Quirrell's whereabouts.
Adrian nodded to Filch, saying politely, "Thank you, Mr. Filch."
Hearing Adrian's words, a rare smile appeared on Filch's face, though tinged with bitterness.
"You're welcome, Professor Westeros," Filch said softly, his voice somewhat hoarse. "I'm glad to be of help to you."
Adrian nodded and turned to leave.
Indeed, tracking a wizard was too ambitious.
On his way back, Adrian couldn't help but sigh. At that moment, he saw a cat lying on its side in the grass, and his eyes narrowed.
Clearly, it was enjoying the rare sunshine. The cat's markings were very distinctive, with mottled tabby patterns that looked particularly striking in the sunlight.
Adrian walked a few steps closer. The cat seemed to sense his presence and suddenly raised its head, looking at him vigilantly.
But after seeing Adrian's face, the wariness gradually dissipated.
Adrian was startled for a moment, then recognized the cat's identity.
Wasn't this Professor McGonagall?
The tabby cat stretched lazily—only in cat form would Professor McGonagall ever do such a thing.
Afterward, she elegantly rose from the grass and quickly resumed her human form, standing before Adrian.
Adrian smiled slightly, saying politely, "Good afternoon, Professor McGonagall."
Professor McGonagall nodded, resuming her usual stern expression, with arms crossed over her chest, and said, "Good afternoon, Westeros. This is a rare break time. What are you doing?"
"Just taking a walk, Professor," Adrian shrugged in response.
'Break time?'
This term sounded quite uncommon coming from Professor McGonagall's mouth.
In Adrian's impression, Professor McGonagall was either working or on her way to work.
Perhaps he had disturbed Professor McGonagall's rest?
Thinking of this, Adrian couldn't help feeling somewhat guilty.
At this moment, Professor McGonagall suddenly said with a rare lightness in her tone, "Being an Animagus is a good magic, Adrian. Becoming a cat is indeed nice, especially in such good weather."
"Yes, Professor," Adrian agreed.
Although Adrian was also an Animagus, he was unwilling to use it as frequently as Professor McGonagall did.
After all, his Animagus form was a hedgehog.
Why did it have to be a hedgehog... Adrian still couldn't figure that out.
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