Planning for the New Semester

Once the students had eaten their fill, the main courses gradually vanished from the plates, replaced by a variety of desserts. After the desserts had also completely disappeared, the opening feast for the new term came to an end. Dumbledore stood up once more. The Great Hall fell silent again.

"Oh, now that we are all fed and watered, I must say a few more words. At the start of the term, I have a few notices to draw to your attention."

"First-years should note that the forest on the school grounds is forbidden to all students. Some of our older students would do well to remember that as well." Dumbledore's twinkling eyes swept briefly toward the Weasley twins.

"Furthermore, our caretaker, Mr. Filch, has asked me to remind you all not to cast magic in the corridors between classes. Quidditch trials will be held in the second week of the term. Anyone interested in playing for their house team should contact Madam Hooch."

"Finally, I must tell you that anyone who does not wish to suffer a most painful death should avoid the corridor on the third floor on the right-hand side."

A few suppressed chuckles rippled through the students.

Avada nodded slightly: he intended to follow this rule for the time being.

As for how long this "for the time being" would last, it depended on how long it took him to complete his research, and whether he could concoct a reason to convince Dumbledore.

To be honest, he had always felt that Dumbledore's trap to lure out Voldemort was absurd: something as incredibly important as the Philosopher's Stone was not only not kept on his person, but he had actively let it out of his sight, placing a series of obstacles in front of it that, aside from the three-headed dog, were all at a first-year level—note, these were "obstacles," not "barriers" or "traps," but things that could be legally passed.

Most importantly, he had actively told the entire school staff and student body the location, without explicitly forbidding entry—one might think the school had opened some hidden dungeon and the Philosopher's Stone was the final reward.

Avada could guarantee that before Harry and his friends stepped into these obstacles, countless Gryffindor predecessors had definitely tested the waters, and perhaps some experts could have cleared them directly. As for what kind of sanctions they would have faced from Dumbledore, who was monitoring the obstacles the whole time, he had no idea.

What's more, Dumbledore had underestimated the survival capabilities of Voldemort in his wraith-like state: in the original story, even when Voldemort was pushed to that point, he was still able to slip through Dumbledore's fingers. This was likely why he had the confidence to give it a try, even knowing it was an obvious trap.

One couldn't really believe that the Dark Lord had been dumbed down to the point where he couldn't even see through a trap like this, could they?

And in Avada's hands, perhaps, possibly, likely, lay the means to control Voldemort in his wraith state. As for how feasible it was, it depended on whether he could successfully analyze that dark golden mental energy of Voldemort's. If he could, he would make up an excuse to join Dumbledore's fishing expedition; and if he truly couldn't... then he would just be a well-behaved student and spend the year in peace.

Finally, after the school song, which was as chaotic as the year before, the students followed their respective house teams toward their common rooms.

After Tonks graduated and left, the person leading the Hufflepuff team became the newly appointed prefect, Gabriel Truman. He called for the first-years to follow him closely, leading them all the way to the pile of barrels next to the kitchens, where he once again introduced the method for entering the common room, as well as the consequences of getting it wrong...

It was just a pity that this year's Hufflepuff intake lacked imagination; not a single one could figure out the true use of the vinegar on their own.

Once back in the familiar common room, the prefects led the new students to identify their dormitories and explained the uses of various facilities, while the older students sat in twos and threes around the fireplace, starting to chatter about what they had seen and heard at the opening feast.

"Harry Potter really did go to Gryffindor. It's a pity he couldn't come to our house."

Someone sighed lazily, which immediately drew a rebuttal:

"Actually, there's no need to mind. Since the Sorting Hat put him in Gryffindor, it must mean that Gryffindor is the place most suited for him. We should be happy that the savior has found his home..."

"Alright, you're right. But thank goodness it wasn't Slytherin. I vaguely heard those people discussing Harry, and if that were true... God, I can't even imagine."

"That's why I said it was just a delusion... Oh, by the way, what do you think Headmaster Dumbledore meant by that last sentence?"

"Anyone who does not wish to suffer a most painful death should avoid the corridor on the third floor on the right-hand side... In other words, if I am willing to suffer a most painful death, I can go in whenever I want?"

"Hiss..."

Avada, who was sitting with his legs crossed and quietly drinking milk tea, curled his lip: even the most honest Hufflepuffs had noticed the anomaly in that sentence. He estimated that by tonight, there would be Gryffindors out on a night stroll, charging in headlong.

Good luck to them; a three-headed dog was not something an average person could handle, and its weakness was rarely known—Avada estimated that it would take at least a seventh-year top student who had taken Care of Magical Creatures and possessed secret family knowledge to have any chance of getting past Fluffy. However, due to the heavy workload of the seventh year, this would likely be delayed until very late, or perhaps might not happen at all.

As for the option of a frontal assault, Avada hadn't considered it a possibility from the start—if someone as strong as Snape had hit a wall, could one really expect students who hadn't even graduated to handle a three-headed dog?

Forget it, forget it. Research, focus on research.

He shook his head, pretended to yawn with fatigue, left the common room, and returned to his dormitory, where he took out a notebook and began to write and draw.

When he saw the Thestral on the carriage earlier, he had been determined to focus all his efforts on breaking the seal on the black tome. But when he entered the Great Hall and observed Voldemort's mental energy, he realized his previous impulsiveness—resolving Voldemort was the most important matter at hand. What he should be doing now was analyzing Voldemort's mutated mental energy as quickly as possible and determining whether his ideas would be effective against him.

And don't forget, the professor knew his real name. So, as a Dark Lord who could use a green light like a flashlight, would Voldemort take an interest in him?

Furthermore, because Avada needed to analyze Voldemort's mental energy, he would have to actively approach Professor Quirrell and have further contact with him and the Voldemort on the back of his head... What kind of attitude should he adopt when facing him?

Don't forget that Quirrell had a mission to fulfill and certainly couldn't spend all his time answering students' questions. So, how could he get him to answer without raising his guard, while also avoiding being annoyed or dodged due to frequent inquiries? And how should he face the interest and attention Voldemort might show? These were all problems he needed to solve.

The only thing that comforted him was that his Occlumency was quite good—judging by the original story, Voldemort seemed to retain the ability to use Legilimency, but even in his prime, Voldemort couldn't see through Snape's Occlumency. Now that he was so weak, and Avada's Occlumency was a direct copy of Snape's, combined with his Magic Sense constantly monitoring the changes in his own mental energy, these conditions greatly improved his own safety.