Chereads / Harry Potter: I am the Legend / Chapter 53 - Chapter 53: The Final Calm

Chapter 53 - Chapter 53: The Final Calm

Hoffa wanted to ask Dumbledore where he should sit, but the man had vanished into the crowd, leaving no trace. He wasn't even seated at the table.

As people around him began taking their seats one by one, Hoffa started to feel uneasy. The isolation he felt among the crowd was even more uncomfortable than the icy winds of Helheim.

Unexpectedly, a savior appeared.

Aglaea casually passed by him, coughed slightly, and pointed to a spot.

"Sit there," she said before walking away.

Hoffa quietly took the seat. About ten minutes later, Aglaea returned, laughing and chatting with an older female student. She sat down beside him in a light blue pleated dress.

She didn't act as if she knew Hoffa well. In fact, most of the time, Aglaea pretended he didn't exist, never showing any sign of reconciliation with him in front of others.

She kept chatting with the others nearby. Socializing for children in this era seemed as natural as playing with phones for children in later generations—almost instinctive.

The group's topic of conversation was a man named Albert Boot.

He was the head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation at the Ministry of Magic and the guest of honor invited by Slughorn for the Christmas gathering. It was rumored that they had been classmates during their time at Hogwarts.

"I can't believe Professor Slughorn managed to invite Albert Boot," said a tall boy. "My uncle's tried to invite him several times, but he's just too busy."

Miranda, seated across the table, smiled. "Boot? I've heard of him. A decent politician and a well-known pacifist."

"Indeed," Aglaea replied with a smile.

"I heard he's preparing to sign a peace agreement with Germany. I wonder if it's true."

"I think the Ministry's approach is rather reckless."

"I don't quite agree."

The surrounding students began discussing and debating the Ministry's current policies.

Hoffa, uninterested in political chatter, sat quietly beside Aglaea. He said nothing, idly fiddling with the tablecloth beneath the table.

After a while, as the conversation around him grew more animated, Aglaea suddenly leaned down and muttered disdainfully, "Boot is a weak-willed fool. His policies are nothing but compromise and protest—utterly useless."

Hoffa looked up at her in surprise, but Aglaea had already returned to chatting with the others. Her seamless switch in demeanor left Hoffa wondering if he had imagined her remark.

Suddenly, applause erupted near the entrance.

The plump figure of Slughorn entered, leading a slightly balding middle-aged wizard by the hand.

The wizard seemed a little nervous but nonetheless pleased.

Slughorn pulled out a chair for him, his voice booming: "Albert, sit here. Tonight's little gathering is just for you."

"Oh, you're too kind. Coming straight from the Ministry has left me exhausted…" the middle-aged wizard said.

The two men continued shaking hands and patting each other on the back, surrounded by a flurry of enthusiastic greetings.

Albert Boot, the head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation?

Hoffa glanced at the man, feeling a pang of sympathy for him.

Being the Head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation during this era was far from an enviable position. In times of war, high-ranking officials like these were prime targets for public criticism, and worse, their lives were often at stake.

In the later Voldemort Wars, two consecutive Ministers for Magic met tragic ends—one of them tortured to death—let alone ordinary department heads.

After Albert Boot sat down, the table quickly filled up, yet Dumbledore was still nowhere to be seen.

Hoffa noticed Miranda seated next to the Head of International Magical Cooperation, Albert Boot, chatting animatedly with him, wearing an expression that could only be described as starstruck.

Meanwhile, several boys gathered around Aglaea, all vying for a closer seat to the beautiful young lady. They shot Hoffa looks filled with jealousy and displeasure, likely assuming he had arrived early to secure a favorable spot near her.

Before the meal began, the group started to pray.

Hoffa, having no idea what to pray for, simply mimicked the others, clasping his hands together and moving his lips, pretending to fit in.

Just after Slughorn finished the prayer, someone raised a question about Hoffa's presence.

"And this is…?"

A stocky third-year boy asked, his face full of displeasure, as if Hoffa had taken his rightful place.

Before Hoffa or even Aglaea could respond, an unexpected voice spoke up.

"He's Hoffa Bach, a master of Transfiguration. Haven't you heard of him?"

To Hoffa's surprise, it was Tom Riddle who came to his defense. Leaning lazily in his chair, Tom spoke with an air of elegance, "If you haven't heard of him, it only shows your ignorance."

The group exchanged puzzled glances.

Hoffa felt a bit awkward. Truthfully, he would rather remain unnoticed than have someone like Voldemort take note of him.

Of course, Tom wasn't yet the Dark Lord. At this moment, he was just another unremarkable student, much like Hoffa himself.

The center of attention at the table, however, was Slughorn and Albert Boot.

Hoffa paid no mind to the chatter around him or the opinions people might have of him. All he could do was focus on quietly eating his meal.

At first, Hoffa's attention was entirely on the food. He was genuinely hungry, and the gossip being exchanged had nothing to do with him nor piqued his interest.

However, as the wine flowed freely, the Head of International Magical Cooperation began to drink a bit too much. Under the influence of alcohol, his words became more frequent and drifted into increasingly sensitive areas.

Albert remarked, "Horace, hic, I work at the Department of International Magical Cooperation, so I know some inside information. I've heard that Hogwarts has captured two foreign wizards and is holding them on school grounds. Is that hic true?"

His words elicited gasps from the crowd. Hoffa froze mid-cut into his steak.

Two foreign wizards? He knew exactly who they were—Schmidt Lutrov's subordinates, captured by Dumbledore. Could it be that the Ministry of Magic was already aware of this?

"Oh? Is that so?" Slughorn gave an awkward chuckle. "I haven't heard anything about it."

"Old friend, this isn't right," Albert said after taking another sip of wine, fixing Slughorn with a sharp stare.

"Perhaps those foreign wizards were indeed a bit uncivilized, lacking in manners. But in such cases, it's best to submit them to the Ministry as soon as possible."

"Well, in matters like these, Albert, you really ought to speak with Headmaster Dippet. He—"

At the mention of this, Albert appeared annoyed.

"Armando is extremely busy! Ever since he became Headmaster of Hogwarts in 1793, he's been swamped. Even the Minister for Welfare finds it hard to get a meeting with him!"

"I understand, Albert," Slughorn said, quickly pouring him another glass of wine in an attempt to defuse the situation.

Albert tipped his head back, gulping down his wine in one swift motion. His face flushed slightly as he let out a hiccup.

"All in all, Hogwarts' stance doesn't seem to align with the Ministry's current tone. For example, during the last Hogsmeade incident, the Minister for Welfare was keen on resolving matters through negotiation."

Slughorn, sensing the conversation veering into sensitive territory, immediately attempted to smooth things over.

"Of course, Headmaster Dippet and our four esteemed houses have always been highly supportive of the Ministry's work. You know, whether it's Hector Foley or his predecessor Lochrin MacLaird, we've always..."

"Really?" Albert interrupted, his tone skeptical.

"I heard you have a teleportation array in the Astronomy Tower, used to send young wizards to highly sensitive locations—places like Polynesia, Martinique, and Heligoland."

He swirled the wine in his glass deliberately.

"Such actions could disrupt the fragile peace in the global wizarding community. Slughorn, you should advise Headmaster Dippet to exercise more caution."

"Haha, of course—hic," Slughorn muttered absentmindedly, his focus drifting toward Tom Riddle. With a thick-fingered hand, he offered Riddle a plate.

"Eat more caviar, Tom. It's good for you."

Albert continued rambling, but Hoffa felt a growing sense of unease.

Sitting in the corner, he absently traced circles in his ice cream with a fork, his expression blank.

The more he thought about it, the clearer it became that something wasn't right.

Finally, Hoffa slowly set down his fork. He knew now where the feeling of unease came from.

The Astronomy Tower.

In the letter Indor had sent him, it was explicitly mentioned that the new teleportation array at Hogwarts was installed in the Astronomy Tower.

Now, Albert had brought up the Astronomy Tower as well.

Hoffa realized what the masked figure was searching for.

In the snowy field, it had struck the wrong target.

Now, it was hunting for the correct location of the teleportation array.

He glanced around. Amid Albert's monotonous political declarations, the others seemed bored and distracted. Slughorn wore an awkward expression. Miranda propped her cheek on her hand, looking disinterested. Aglaea's lips were curled in a subtle sneer.

Tom Riddle, however, was twirling a fork in his fingers, listening to Albert with apparent curiosity.

Hoffa lowered his head, torn with inner conflict.

A painful conflict.

He didn't know whether he should get involved in all this. It wasn't his problem. Yet the murderous intent he'd faced in the Forbidden Forest surged back into his mind, along with Dumbledore's mention of the mole.

He wanted to tell someone, but the thing he'd seen was invisible to everyone else—not even Dumbledore could see it. No one could, except him.

Damn it!

Clenching his teeth, Hoffa stood up slowly. He leaned toward Aglaea and murmured,

"I'm going to the bathroom."

Aglaea responded with a noncommittal hum.

Hoffa gave a small, apologetic nod to the others at the table, then turned and left.

As soon as he stepped out, he pulled his wand from his belt and tapped it against his arm.

"Dissolus Displacement."

With a soft incantation, Hoffa's body vanished from Slughorn's office. Quietly, he slipped out and began running through the castle halls.

He was heading to the Astronomy Tower.

(End of Chapter)

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