Hoffa couldn't stand it any longer.
Aglaia's wild speculations were mostly for show, an attempt to grab attention rather than serious analysis. But her words still made Hoffa's heart tighten. If anyone discovered that he had secretly gone to Hogsmeade, who knew what kind of punishment awaited him?
He pushed aside his plate and silently left the Great Hall.
At the entrance, groups of upper-year students with frightened expressions clustered together.
Most of them had visited Hogsmeade the previous day. The terror attack had come frighteningly close to them, leaving them shaken to their core.
As Hoffa approached the main doors, he noticed a one-eyed old man with a bow slung over his shoulder pinning a notice to the school bulletin board.
This was Hogwarts' gamekeeper.
Curious, Hoffa stepped closer to read it.
Emergency Notice
Due to the large-scale disturbance in Hogsmeade yesterday, all student visits to Hogsmeade are strictly prohibited for the remainder of this term.
Students who visited Hogsmeade yesterday must report to the Transfiguration classroom on the fifth-floor corridor at 3 p.m. for safety inspections.
Additionally, from September 23rd to September 30th, Hogwarts staff will assist the Aurors of the Ministry of Magic in conducting security investigations in Hogsmeade. All classes and Quidditch matches scheduled for this week are canceled.
— Armando Dippet
Hoffa read the notice twice, his heart sinking.
He came from a time of peace, where the closest he'd been to war was watching dramatized TV shows about wartime heroes.
But now, the shadow of war loomed directly over him. Hearing about a terror attack was one thing; experiencing its aftermath firsthand was entirely different.
Indor remained silent in his arms.
Hoffa murmured quietly, "Two people died because of you, and over forty were injured."
Indor snapped back, "Shut up! This is war, not peacetime. All I can do is focus on completing my mission!"
Hoffa pressed his lips together, saying nothing. He couldn't shake the weight in his chest.
Ruthlessness?
Cold-bloodedness?
Putting self-interest above all?
It seemed he didn't possess these so-called "valuable" qualities. He was just an ordinary person.
After silently fuming for a while, Indor frowned and said, "Take me to your school's teleportation point. I need to determine why Hogwarts has stopped providing aid."
Hoffa didn't refuse Indor's request. As he stepped out of the castle, the sky was overcast, and a light rain began to fall. The grass was damp and slightly muddy.
The last time Hoffa had been on the school grounds was during flying lessons, when upper-year students filled the area.
Now, with everyone discussing the Hogsmeade attack in the Great Hall, the grounds were eerily empty.
The blue runes etched into the grass were still there, as usual.
Indor leapt from Hoffa's chest and darted across the grass, weaving through the runes and inspecting them carefully.
Before long, Indor's head popped up like a stoat emerging from its burrow. He called out sharply, "Hoffa, come quickly!"
Hoffa hurried over.
Indor pointed a small paw at the ground and said angrily, "The teleportation point has been destroyed! Why hasn't anyone from Hogwarts done anything about this?"
Hoffa's eyes widened. The turf was torn up, and countless runes lay shattered amidst signs of explosions and scorch marks.
Someone had gone on a rampage here.
Unable to resist, Hoffa crouched down and ran his fingers over the damaged ground.
The marks were extremely fresh; the torn grass blades were still oozing sap. It was clear that the destruction had occurred recently, no more than a day ago.
Hoffa's expression grew grave as he walked a few more steps, heading toward the area where he had attended flying lessons before.
The damage here had already been repaired. While the blue runes were securely etched into the ground, the bare, brown patches of earth resembled scars, silently narrating the violence they had endured.
In less than a week, this place had been vandalized more than twice.
Indor leapt onto Hoffa's shoulder and whispered, "The traces of destruction are only a few hours old. The magical fluctuations haven't dissipated yet. The culprit might not have gone far. We should head back."
Hoffa glanced around. The misty rain shrouded the hunting grounds, and there was no sign of anyone else. Only the dark, shadowy outline of the Forbidden Forest loomed in the distance.
The sky pressed down heavily, the mountain peaks in the distance shrouded in thick, unbroken clouds. Hoffa felt as if he were trapped inside a massive eggshell.
Standing in the desolate hunting grounds, he was overwhelmed by the oppressive emptiness, a solitude that seemed to isolate him from the world.
The air carried an eerie aura, something strangely familiar. It tickled the edges of his memory, reminding him of something important he couldn't quite place.
"Let's go," he said at last.
Taking one final look at the vandalized teleportation array, he turned and headed back to the castle.
Inside an empty classroom, Hoffa locked the door behind him and took Indor out of his pocket, placing him on the desk.
Indor immediately demanded, "Who did this? Do you have any clues?"
Hoffa shook his head.
Truthfully, the first thought that crossed his mind when he saw the destruction was of the future Dark Lord, Tom Marvolo Riddle.
After all, in every story of Harry Potter, Riddle was the mastermind behind countless schemes. And the violent spells evident at the scene required considerable magical skill to execute.
However, that suspicion quickly fell apart for lack of motive.
At this stage, Tom was carefully keeping a low profile, trying to win everyone's favor. Hoffa couldn't think of any reason for him to destroy the school's teleportation array.
But if not Tom, then who?
Repeatedly sabotaging the teleportation array and escaping detection—it had to be someone inside the school.
Suddenly, Hoffa thought of the flickering shadow he had seen under the moonlit corridor the previous night.
Was it the one who had sabotaged the array?
Hoffa fell into deep thought, while Indor paced anxiously across the desk.
After a long silence, Hoffa asked, "So, what are you planning to do about it?"
Indor frowned and said, "We don't have a choice. You need to take me to see Headmaster Dippet immediately."
As soon as those words left his mouth, the air grew noticeably colder.
Hoffa stared at Indor with a blank expression, his attitude crystal clear.
By now, Hoffa felt this impish creature's behavior was eerily reminiscent of the manipulative types he had known in his past life—the ones who would say, I'll just have a meal, or I'll just stay the night, or I'll just hang around but won't get involved. Hoffa had already done everything he could, even risking exposure to Aglaia.
He had reached his limit.
Indor still insisted on his original plan, pressing Hoffa to take him to see Armando Dippet.
"Doesn't he realize I'm just a first-year?" Hoffa thought, exasperated. "Even Tom Riddle, the future Dark Lord, kept a low profile during his first year. Asking me to stir up trouble now is practically a death wish."
"You say I only care about myself," Hoffa said softly. "But I don't think you've considered my position, Indor. There's an ancient saying from the East: When impoverished, one should safeguard oneself; when prosperous, one should uplift the world. Right now, I'm very much in the 'impoverished' stage."
Indor froze, falling silent for a moment. Finally, he lifted his head reluctantly. "Couldn't you at least take me to see Dippet? Just this once? I promise he won't expel you."
"I just don't understand why you can't go yourself," Hoffa replied coolly.
With a heavy sigh, the black-and-white badger plopped onto the chair, covering his face with his paws. "I'm sorry," he muttered. "Something happened before that makes me afraid to face Headmaster Dippet on my own."
"What happened?"
Indor hesitated, then shook his head. "Forget it. You should go. I'll handle things myself from here. Thanks for your help, Hoffa."
This time, Hoffa didn't hesitate. He nodded. "Take care of yourself, Indor."
As he reached the door, Hoffa pulled it open—but froze in his tracks. Standing in his path was someone blocking the way.
It was a man in his fifties with meticulously combed gray hair, clad in a blue-green robe, hands clasped behind his back. It was none other than his Head of House.
"Professor Gorshak!?" Hoffa exclaimed, startled, instinctively stepping in front of Indor to shield him from view. He had no idea why Gorshak was here. Shouldn't he be working with the Ministry Aurors to investigate Hogsmeade?
Gorshak's stern face showed no hint of emotion as he spoke in a rigid tone, "Bach, someone sent me an anonymous letter accusing you of keeping a prohibited animal. Is that true?"
Someone reported me?
The unexpected accusation felt like being thrown into a flushing toilet, spiraling downward in a dizzying descent. The situation had taken a sharp turn, and Hoffa was at a loss for words.
Gorshak's sharp gaze narrowed slightly as he tilted his head. "What is that behind you?"
"A badger, sir," Hoffa replied hoarsely.
"I grew up on Blackhorn Island. I'm very familiar with the aura of a fae creature," Gorshak said coolly. "Bach, when did you bring a fae into Hogwarts?"
It felt like missing a step on a staircase. Hoffa's face turned pale, and his breathing grew unsteady. This old man hadn't even seen Indor yet but had already detected his presence—was his nose part canine?
Now, his plan was completely derailed. Would he be expelled for breaking school rules?
But the moment Indor saw Gorshak, he reacted as if encountering an archenemy. His eyes burned with fury.
With a loud thud, Indor leapt off the table and instantly transformed back into his true form.
"What are you planning to do, Adbe Gorshak!" he shouted, placing himself in front of Hoffa. Strangely, Hoffa detected an undertone of hatred and murderous intent in Indor's voice.
"It's you, Indor? What are you doing at Hogwarts?" Gorshak asked, mildly surprised.
"What am I doing here?" Indor seethed with anger as he glared at Gorshak. "I raised 10,000 Galleons and fulfilled my end of the contract. But your Hogwarts has repeatedly breached it! For an entire month, no security wizards were sent to the island!"
"Enough!"
Gorshak cut him off sternly.
"These matters are not to be discussed in front of a student."
"And what if I do? Will you use one of your favorite spells on him...?"
"Silence!"
Gorshak's gray eyes betrayed no emotion as he turned his attention back to Hoffa.
"Bach," he said calmly, "you have violated school rules by privately harboring a prohibited creature. As punishment, you will assist the Hogwarts gamekeeper with his work in the Forbidden Forest every day after classes this month. Do you understand?"
Indor shrieked, "You wouldn't dare!"
For some reason, he grew so enraged that he lunged at Gorshak, trying to grab his robes. But the Head of House effortlessly pushed him aside.
"I don't need you teaching me how to discipline students, Indor," Gorshak said coldly. Turning to Hoffa, he added, "You may leave, Bach. A letter will be sent to you tonight with further details."
Expressionless, Hoffa turned and walked toward the door.
Indor, his chest heaving with anger, shouted after him, "Stop, Hoffa! You didn't do anything wrong. This old fool has no right to punish you!"
Hoffa paused, glancing at the furious Indor and then at the indifferent Gorshak.
After a moment, Hoffa muttered in confusion, "I don't even know who you are. I just picked up a badger."
Indor was stunned speechless.
"You're clever, Bach," Gorshak remarked. But his next words sent a chill down Hoffa's spine:
"If you break the rules again, you will be expelled."
Hoffa nodded silently, opened the door, and walked out.
Behind him, Indor's enraged voice echoed: "If you don't want me at your school, then fix that damn portal and send over the wizards already!"
(End of Chapter)
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