Finally, as the sky was about to darken, Adrian escorted Harry to the doorstep of the Dursley family's home.
Harry had changed into a jacket and a shot top. Adrian looked down at his out-of-place wizard robe and with a light wave of his wand, a well-tailored light gray suit replaced his original attire.
Although compared to Muggle clothing, Adrian preferred the spaciousness of wizard robes.
"Can I learn this spell?" Harry eagerly asked. "It would save time changing clothes."
"Of course," Adrian patted Harry's head, his lips curling slightly upward. "I'll add this item to your summer plan."
"?"
Harry was stunned for a moment, wondering if he had just created more trouble for himself.
"Well," Adrian pushed Harry's back and then said, "It's getting late, you should go in. One more thing, I won't be home for the next few days. Have fun, Harry."
Harry reluctantly shuffled his feet.
He really didn't want to return to the Dursleys' house; he had previously asked Adrian if he could temporarily stay with him.
However, Adrian had refused his request.
When he asked about the reason, Adrian told him that he had a protective spell cast by his mother, and this magic needed him to stay with blood relatives to remain effective.
And among those related to Harry by blood, only his aunt remained in this world.
That is to say, until he came of age, he had to live with the Dursley family.
How utterly dreadful...
After seeing Harry enter the Dursley family's door, Adrian had just turned to leave when he suddenly noticed a familiar figure standing under the streetlight.
Dumbledore was standing under the dim streetlight, dressed in Muggle clothing—a purple striped suit, paired with a hat of the same color.
Notably, he had tied his beard with a small string.
It looked somewhat strange.
Adrian walked up to Dumbledore and couldn't help saying, "Muggles don't keep such long beards, let alone tie them up."
"Hmm..." Dumbledore looked at the clothes he was wearing and said with a smile, "I thought I was doing a good job imitating them. No wonder those Muggles who passed by earlier were looking at me with strange expressions."
After silently criticizing Dumbledore's fashion sense, Adrian got straight to the point: "How are we going to meet Nicolas Flamel?"
"By Apparition," Dumbledore extended a hand, indicating for Adrian to grab hold. "He's in England."
As soon as Adrian gripped Dumbledore's sleeve, he felt a sensation of spinning. The surrounding scenery twisted like a wrung-out cloth, and when his feet touched solid ground again, he found himself standing in a room.
Dumbledore's Apparition was much more comfortable than his own; there must be some techniques he wasn't aware of.
Adrian looked around; this was a modern-style circular living room with a table, several sofas, and even a television broadcasting the news.
On the table in front of him sat a crystal-clear orb with silver mist flowing slowly inside.
"Ah, I've been waiting for you for a long time. Good evening, Albus." A voice came from the kitchen.
Nicolas Flamel walked out slowly, carrying a plate of freshly baked scones.
He wore a simple white shirt and casual pants, looking like an ordinary retired elderly man rather than a wizard who had lived for over six hundred years.
"I've brought the guest, Nicolas," Dumbledore said. "We were delayed a little on the way."
"Not too late. And here are the scones you ordered," Nicolas said cheerfully. "Made by Perenelle, very sweet."
Perenelle was Nicolas's wife, who had also lived for over six hundred years, just like him.
Nicolas placed the scones on the table, simultaneously focusing his gaze on Adrian.
"Haven't we met somewhere before?" He tilted his head slightly, his silver-white eyebrows furrowed together. "When you get old, your memory deteriorates... Oh, don't tell me yet... let me think carefully."
"The Flute," Adrian gave a small hint.
"It's you!" Nicolas exclaimed with surprise.
Adrian smiled slightly and nodded. "I am Adrian Westeros. Thank you for your help when I was in France."
"A pleasant coincidence," Nicolas looked Adrian up and down, then asked kindly, "How is your sister doing recently?"
Dumbledore, who had been sitting quietly on the sofa eating scones, raised his head instantly upon hearing Nicolas's question, a flash of astonishment flashing in his blue eyes.
"The usual," Adrian replied softly. "But thank you very much for your help back then. We've made some progress now."
"I didn't do much," Nicolas waved his hand dismissively.
At this moment, Dumbledore looked at Nicolas, then turned to Adrian with some surprise: "You two know each other?"
Nicolas nodded, sat down on the sofa next to Dumbledore, and said to him, "Yes, Albus. Is he the one who destroyed the Philosopher's Stone, as you mentioned?"
Dumbledore nodded. Although he was very curious about how Adrian and Nicolas were connected, it was better to finish the main business first.
He looked at Adrian and explained seriously, "You should know the importance of the Philosopher's Stone, Adrian."
Adrian nodded.
"So," Dumbledore continued, "Nicolas and I have discussed it, and we hope you can take an oath to prove that you haven't kept that Philosopher's Stone for yourself."
"That's right," Nicolas agreed, simultaneously taking out an ancient parchment from his pocket and saying, "This is a simple ritual magic. You just need to swear on this paper that you haven't kept the Philosopher's Stone. If it burns up, it proves what you said is true."
'I see.'
Adrian nodded inwardly.
This was quite normal, because as Dumbledore and Nicolas said, the Philosopher's Stone was too important for the entire wizarding world.
If the Philosopher's Stone fell into the hands of outsiders, it would be a disaster.
In the original storyline, Dumbledore and Nicolas probably destroyed the Philosopher's Stone out of this consideration.
However, the Philosopher's Stone had indeed been destroyed now, absorbed by the Tree of Wisdom... that shouldn't count as keeping it for oneself, right?
Adrian took the parchment and spread it out, finding nothing written on it.
"Please proceed," Dumbledore said.
"I, Adrian Westeros," Adrian's voice was clear, "hereby solemnly swear that the Philosopher's Stone created by Nicolas Flamel has been completely destroyed, and I have not kept any part of it."
The parchment suddenly burst into flames, then disappeared.
Nicolas nodded with satisfaction: "The oath is established."
However, Adrian didn't feel any unusual sensation, nor did he sense any magical fluctuation in his body, as if nothing had happened at all.
"Eldra."
Adrian communicated with the Tree of Wisdom in his mind: "Analyze the magical ritual I just performed."
[Analyzing, please wait...]
[There is no trace of any ritual magic on you, sir.]
After receiving the response from the Tree of Wisdom, Adrian was slightly taken aback. 'Had the magic failed?'
Meanwhile, Dumbledore was whispering with Nicolas.
"When did you prepare the ritual magic?" Dumbledore asked puzzledly.
"No," Nicolas shook his head and blinked. "There was no ritual magic at all—it was just an ordinary piece of parchment."
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