Xenophilius Lovegood appeared with disheveled white hair like a dandelion ravaged by a storm, wearing a yellow robe, his eyes looking sowhat neurotic.
What was notable was the pendant hanging conspicuously around his neck, very much like a triangular eye.
Adrian knew that was the symbol of the Deathly Hallows and Xenophilius believed in their existence.
However, at this mont, Xenophilius was looking at Adrian with hostile eyes.
He didn't recognize Adrian.
Which ant there was now a stranger at their door chatting with his beloved daughter.
Moreover, this man was staring at his daughter with heated eyes—as if he wanted to kidnap her.
Xenophilius stepped forward quickly, pulling Luna behind him, his bony hand already reaching for his waist.
"Who are you?" His voice suddenly rose.
Seeing this, Adrian quickly stood up and extended his hand friendly toward Xenophilius: "Adrian Westeros, professor at Hogwarts."
Xenophilius didn't shake Adrian's extended hand, instead drawing his wand halfway out, squinting warily: "Professor at Hogwarts?"
Adrian's extended hand froze in the air, sowhat embarrassed.
Why was Xenophilius so guarded against him?
Did he look like a dark wizard?
At this mont, Luna's voice broke the impasse.
"Dad," she peeked out from behind her father, "he's not lying."
Then Luna looked at Adrian and said, "Professor, would you like to co in for tea?"
anwhile, Xenophilius carefully examined Adrian.
After hesitating for a mont, he shook Adrian's hand: "Xenophilius Lovegood. Are you really a Hogwarts professor?"
Adrian breathed a sigh of relief in his heart, then nodded: "Of course."
As Xenophilius led Adrian into the house, he said: "What do you teach?"
"Care of Magical Creatures."
"Care of Magical Creatures?" Xenophilius suddenly stopped and turned to look at Adrian: "Then you must know about Crumple-Horned Snorkacks?"
"Um..." Adrian didn't know why Xenophilius would bring this up, but still answered honestly: "Actually, I don't know about them."
"Then you must not teach very well," Xenophilius said rcilessly.
Adrian shrugged: "My students probably don't think so."
At his daughter's urging, Xenophilius reluctantly agreed to let Adrian stay for tea.
The Lovegood family's living room was filled with various strange collectibles. They had hung many photos on the walls—of Luna, of Xenophilius, and of a woman who must be Luna's mother.
However, Adrian vaguely rembered that in the original story, Luna's mother had died in a magical experint.
Luna seed not to regard Adrian as a stranger at all.
She asked Adrian many questions about the "spirits"—those creatures she claid surrounded Adrian like transparent bubbles.
Unfortunately, Adrian knew nothing about them either.
Luna also showed Adrian her Hogwarts acceptance letter, which she had received just a few days ago.
Throughout this ti, Xenophilius kept a stern expression.
Finally, after Adrian ntioned he was a loyal fan of The Quibbler, Xenophilius's expression softened.
After visiting Luna and Xenophilius, Adrian thought that although the Lovegood family occasionally said incomprehensible things, they were all lovely people.
When he left the Lovegood house and returned to the Weasleys, it was already getting dark.
The Weasley family invited Harry to stay with them for a few days, and Harry accepted the invitation.
Adrian, having other matters to prepare for, politely declined the Weasley family's dinner invitation and left early.
Early the next morning, Adrian traveled through the fireplace to Hogsade village.
The Three Broomsticks was as warm and smoky as usual.
However, despite being sumr, it didn't feel stuffy inside.
As soon as Adrian stepped into the Three Broomsticks pub, he saw Professor Flitwick sitting on a high stool by the bar, waving at him.
"Professor Westeros! Over here, over here!"
Professor Flitwick's voice penetrated the noisy environnt of the pub and reached Adrian's ears.
Adrian quickly walked over and sat down beside Professor Flitwick.
Professor Flitwick was taller sitting on the high stool than when standing, making conversation much easier.
"About the dueling competition... are you ready?" Professor Flitwick looked at Adrian and asked in a low voice.
Adrian nodded.
That's right—he had co today for the "dueling competition" Professor Flitwick ntioned.
So ti ago, Remus had recomnded he participate in dueling competitions to hone his dueling skills.
Adrian had taken his advice and written to ask Professor Flitwick to make introductions for him.
After all, Professor Flitwick had been a dueling enthusiast in his youth and had won many dueling competition championships.
He knew clearly which competitions were worth participating in and which were useless.
"Very good," Professor Flitwick smiled, took a sip of his drink, and said: "I'm glad you're interested in dueling competitions, Professor Westeros. Actually, although these are peaceful tis, there are still many dueling competitions—though just as sporting events, of course."
He moved closer to Adrian mysteriously, lowering his voice: "But what I'm taking you to isn't that kind of performance-based competition—it's more... traditional."
"More traditional?"
Adrian showed a puzzled expression.
"Ah, yes," Professor Flitwick nodded. "This ans you might get hurt. Like breaking an arm or a leg—though your life safety is still guaranteed, of course."
"Excellent," Adrian said with satisfaction.
It seed Professor Flitwick also knew that only this kind of dueling could improve a person's combat abilities.
After chatting about the details of the dueling competition for a while, Professor Flitwick looked around, then took out a piece of parchnt from his pocket: "The address is here. Your match starts at one this afternoon—I've already registered you. The password is 'Dancing Troll.'"
Adrian took the parchnt and found that the address was written in magical ink, with the words slowly disappearing.
Professor Flitwick explained: "This is to prevent anyone from leaking. Although the Ministry of Magic tacitly allows such competitions, they still need to put on a show publicly."
Hearing this, Adrian couldn't help but grumble inwardly.
This didn't sound quite legitimate...
Before leaving, Professor Flitwick solemnly warned: "Be careful, Professor Westeros. This competition isn't as simple as you might imagine."
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