"Professor."
Hoffa sat up in bed, feeling uneasy.
He wondered whether his previous excursion into the Forbidden Forest would count as a violation of school rules. If it did, under the regulations set by Armando Dippet, his wand could be snapped, and he'd be expelled. However, Dumbledore didn't have the authority to decide his fate—that rested with Gorshak.
"Other than Rutrolf, I captured the other two dark wizards," Dumbledore said calmly. "One was severely injured by Joey, and the other had his vocal cords severed. To this day, neither has said a word."
Hoffa's heart skipped a beat.
Though he had been the one to sever the wizard's vocal cords using a Transfiguration spell, he doubted Dumbledore would approve of his actions given the professor's personality.
But Dumbledore didn't dwell on that matter. Instead, he continued, "Dark wizards can't enter the Forbidden Forest. The school is surrounded by powerful protective and disruptive spells. Without help from someone inside, they wouldn't have been able to get in. I suspect there's a collaborator within the school. What do you think?"
A collaborator?
Hoffa was puzzled. Why would Dumbledore ask him? He was just a first-year student—did the professor think he had some critical information?
He didn't.
Hoffa shook his head silently.
Dumbledore sighed softly, as if disappointed.
"The Headmaster, Dippet, and Vice Headmaster Gorshak are currently in Germany. They might return next week, but I fear Joey won't escape punishment," Dumbledore said.
"Why!?" Hoffa sprang up from his bed. "He saved us!"
"He put two lower-year students in grave danger. That's far beyond a teacher's duty, and it might cost him his position," Dumbledore replied expressionlessly.
"He didn't know there were dark wizards in the Forbidden Forest! He was only trying to understand the centaurs' inscriptions. You can't judge the cause by the outcome," Hoffa argued passionately.
The intensity of his own reaction surprised him—he wasn't usually like this.
Dumbledore fell silent, lowering his head as he studied Hoffa.
Then, unexpectedly, he smiled.
"When I saw you in the Forbidden Forest that night, I wondered why you weren't in Gryffindor. Now I see that Ravenclaw suits you better."
Hoffa didn't know what he meant by that and chose to remain silent.
Dumbledore continued, "You don't need to worry about staff matters. I came here today as a regular teacher to check on you. Hoffa, do you remember what I said in my first class?"
Hoffa stayed quiet.
"Caution, Hoffa," Dumbledore said. "Overdrawing magic isn't the mark of a wise wizard. Forcing yourself to use magic beyond your limits is extremely, extremely dangerous."
"I understand," Hoffa sighed. "I'll be more careful next time."
"Good." Dumbledore's expression softened slightly as he stood up.
"Life can be very hard alone. Sometimes, leaning on your friends isn't something to be ashamed of, don't you think?" he said, glancing at Aglaea before turning to leave the ward.
Hoffa watched Dumbledore's figure disappear through the door.
For a moment, he didn't move.
He was deep in thought and confusion.
The arrow message Joey received clearly wasn't the work of the centaurs.
Who had set the trap targeting him or Joey?
And who was the collaborator Dumbledore spoke of?
After a long while, finding no answers, Hoffa collapsed onto his pillow, his mind in turmoil.
He stared out at the Scottish Highlands beyond the window.
An indescribable feeling welled up in his heart.
Whoever designed the trap, one thing was clear: Hoffa had always been too passive—passively adapting to his environment and passively accepting his fate.
This time, it was Dumbledore who saved him. But what about next time?
The uncertainty of the future left him bewildered, and the lurking shadow in the dark terrified him.
Hoffa felt an urgent desire for change. He wanted to take control of his destiny, to no longer live this way. He yearned to tear apart the fog obscuring his vision.
With the help of meditation, Hoffa's mental injuries healed quickly. However, Healer Lainer insisted that he could not leave the hospital until the treatment course was complete.
In this regard, Lainer was no different from the future Madam Pomfrey.
Aglaea stayed in the hospital for several days. During this time, a steady stream of male visitors came to see her. Some even visited multiple times, bringing flowers, fruit, cards, and chocolate frogs. The pile of chocolate frogs on her table grew into a small mountain, croaking incessantly.
Even Hoffa, the otherwise invisible Ravenclaw, benefitted slightly—he received a small bag of fruit simply because Aglaea's table couldn't hold any more.
Truly, it was a face-value-driven world.
Joey, however, wasn't so fortunate. Living a reclusive life meant no one even knew he was sick. Hoffa found himself taking on part of the responsibility of caring for Joey, all the while worrying whether the magical creatures Joey kept would starve without him.
On the last day of Lainer's prescribed treatment, Hoffa woke at dawn beside his hospital bed.
He felt completely refreshed.
Aglaea looked better too; her complexion was rosy, her sleep peaceful. Only the bandage around her forehead hinted at her recent ordeal.
Joey, however, still appeared pale and sickly. The venom of the toxic sac leopard had left him gravely ill. Recently, he had been vomiting bluish-purple liquid intermittently.
Upon waking, Hoffa poured Joey a glass of water. Without sufficient hydration, the dehydration caused by vomiting could prove fatal.
Looking at Joey, Hoffa felt a lingering sense of fear. Despite the passing days, the shadow of the unknown still loomed over him.
At breakfast time, around eight o'clock, Aglaea woke up.
But upon seeing Hoffa seated by Joey's bed, she immediately turned on her side and pretended to sleep again.
Her act didn't last long. Healer Lainer soon strolled over with his hands tucked into his white coat for a routine checkup and bandage change.
Aglaea could no longer feign sleep and sat up obediently to cooperate with the examination.
After finishing his inspection, the taciturn Lainer gave the nurses a few instructions before stuffing his hands back into his pockets and leaving.
Soon, only Hoffa and Aglaea were awake in the room.
The air was filled with an awkward silence—so palpable it could make Freud frown.
Hoffa pretended to examine Joey again, though he had already done so multiple times and couldn't keep doing it indefinitely. Aglaea stared out the window like a marble statue, unmoving.
Even Hoffa himself didn't know how to navigate their relationship.
Friends? Rivals?
Neither seemed fitting.
To call her a friend felt wrong. He couldn't fully accept someone so self-centered as a companion. Aglaea's domineering personality—always wanting to be the best—clashed with his own disposition.
But to consider her a rival didn't feel right either. If they were truly enemies, he wouldn't have been so angry at the thought of her death. After what they'd been through together, it seemed time to draw a line under their conflicts.
The strange tension between them lasted nearly ten minutes.
The only sound in the room was the relentless ticking of the clock: tick-tock, tick-tock, tick-tock...
Finally, Joey let out a gurgling cough from the adjacent bed. Both Hoffa and Aglaea turned to look at him. Then, as if on cue, they turned to glare at each other.
"Well..."
"I..."
They spoke simultaneously, then fell silent just as quickly. Hoffa scratched his head, thinking bitterly how ridiculous this situation was. She was like a female version of himself, a mirror he couldn't avoid.
Reluctantly, he decided it would be better to leave.
But just as he stood up, the door burst open with a bang.
An elderly man in a blue-green robe strode in, hands clasped behind his back, his gray eyes smoldering with anger.
It was the Head of Ravenclaw House—Ardebert Gorshak.
And he was the one who truly held the power to decide the fate of both Hoffa and Aglaea.
Suppressing his fury, Gorshak's brow was deeply furrowed as he fixed his stern gaze on the two students before him.
Hoffa could feel the anger radiating from Gorshak, though strangely, it didn't seem directed at him.
Even the typically headstrong Aglaea was subdued, lowering her head and remaining silent in the presence of the Head of House.
"I was away for just a short time, and something like this happens." Gorshak narrowed his eyes, speaking slowly. "I want a reasonable explanation as to why two first-year students were in the Forbidden Forest."
Hoffa glanced at Aglaea.
Despite everything they had been through in the forest, the cause of their presence there was straightforward: Hoffa had wanted to brew a potion to restore magical energy.
"We..." Hoffa began.
But Gorshak gave him a cold glance. "Hold on, Bach. I want to hear her first."
Hoffa clamped his mouth shut. His Head of House had never been one to follow conventional expectations.
Aglaea shot a look at Hoffa, cleared her throat, and began hesitantly.
"Well, um... the groundskeeper approached me. He said he needed someone who could read magical creature scripts to help him with something. So, he brought me into the Forbidden Forest."
"And him? Why was he there?" Gorshak pressed, his gaze unwavering.
"He, uh... he was at the stables watching over the horses. I can't ride a horse, so..."
Her attempt at lying was clumsy, and her voice faltered as if she couldn't continue spinning the story.
An oppressive silence fell over the room.
"Is that all?" Gorshak's gaze turned to Hoffa.
Hoffa exhaled slightly and nodded.
"Yes."
Gorshak cast a cold glance at Joey, still unconscious on the hospital bed, then turned and strode out of the room without another word.
Bang!The door shut firmly behind him.
Both Hoffa and Aglaea let out a sigh of relief, glancing at each other. For the first time, they saw a hint of mutual understanding in each other's eyes.
"The real culprit..." Aglaea puffed out her cheeks, her gaze flitting between Hoffa and her own hands.
Hoffa felt a twinge of concern—this time for Joey.
Although both were staff members, Gorshak clearly outranked Joey. Hoffa couldn't predict how Gorshak might deal with him, but the Head of House's displeasure was undeniable.
After sitting in silence for a while, Hoffa climbed out of bed and gave Aglaea a polite nod.
"Take care and get some rest. I'll come check on you later."
Though he no longer felt animosity toward her, the idea of becoming close friends with Aglaea—akin to Harry and Hermione—felt far-fetched for the time being.
Aglaea looked slightly disappointed at his response. Watching Hoffa rise to leave, her eyes darted around as if formulating a new thought.
"Wait a second."
Hoffa turned. "What is it?"
"Well..." Aglaea hesitated as though she had forgotten what she wanted to say. After a moment of thought, she finally asked, "Those spells you used... how did you learn them? The one that makes people dangle upside down is one thing, but that advanced invisibility spell—how?"
"Half-Blood Prince," Hoffa said without missing a beat. "I learned it from a man called the Half-Blood Prince."
He shifted all the credit—and responsibility—onto the future Severus Snape.
Which wasn't entirely untrue. Apart from Ghostly Walk, the Levicorpus spell was indeed Snape's invention.
"Oh... I see," Aglaea responded absentmindedly.
Hoffa pushed the door open and left the room.
It was only after some time that Aglaea realized something. Turning her head to the now-empty doorway, she let out a groan, flopped back onto the bed, and stared at the ceiling, murmuring to herself:
"There's no such thing as a prince among wizards..."
(End of Chapter)
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