The bright candlelight inside Hogwarts illuminated the castle, but with most students having gone home, the corridors were eerily quiet.
The Astronomy Tower stood on the west side of the castle, and Hoffa had some familiarity with the area. Both the Ravenclaw Tower and the Astronomy Tower were among the tallest structures in Hogwarts, connected by several lofty walkways.
Using the magical staircase in the Ravenclaw Tower, Hoffa swiftly ascended floor by floor.
As he approached the Astronomy Tower, the scenery around him began to change. The walls, once adorned with oil paintings, now gave way to rows of telescopes and astrolabes.
These astrolabes turned slowly in the corridors, producing a rhythmic ticking sound. Everything functioned with precise order and harmony.
Hoffa slowed his pace, carefully scanning for the location of the teleportation array.
After searching for a while without success, he noticed something unusual at the end of the corridor—a single oil painting, the only one in this area.
It was a peculiar painting. Unlike the others, which depicted solitary individuals or groups engaged in lively conversation, this painting showed a pair of adult wizards, a man and a woman.
The two appeared to be either lovers or a married couple. The man had gray hair, a prominent nose, and a gentle smile. The woman had chestnut hair and a soft, elegant appearance. She leaned lazily against the man's chest, exuding an air of quiet intimacy.
The woman seemed to pierce through Hoffa's stealth with a single glance.
"Merry Christmas, child," she said softly.
The corridor returned to silence, leaving only the steady ticking of the astrolabes.
Frowning, Hoffa canceled his stealth spell and stared at the couple in the painting.
There was something inexplicably familiar about the man. Hoffa felt sure he had seen him before.
Finally, a small detail made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end.
The man wore a silver earring, identical to Hoffa's.
A fleeting comment from Indor days ago struck Hoffa like a bolt of lightning:
"My previous friend also wore an earring. His name was Nimmon."
Nimmon.
Hoffa remembered seeing this man before while searching through the clubroom. That would make the woman in the painting his wife.
There was no doubt—something important was hidden behind this painting.
It could be a secret passage leading to the top of the Astronomy Tower or a prison for dark wizards.
But passing through the painting required a password.
At Hogwarts, the only painting requiring puzzles to pass was the entrance to the Ravenclaw common room. All others relied on passwords, which were changed periodically.
Rubbing his temples, Hoffa groaned inwardly. He didn't fear solving puzzles, but he was entirely in the dark about the password and didn't know where to start.
At that moment, soft footsteps echoed down the corridor behind him.
Hoffa whipped around, vanishing into thin air as he entered stealth mode.
A figure in a gray robe slowly emerged from the shadows. Thin and frail, it wore a hauntingly pale mask.
It was the very target Hoffa had been tracking for so long.
What was even stranger was that as it passed the mirrors, no reflection appeared.
Pressed against the wall, Hoffa gripped his wand tightly, his heart racing and his palms sweating.
Reality was right before him, yet the figure exuded an overwhelming sense of unreality. Hoffa felt as if what he was seeing wasn't human.
"Order," the masked figure said without hesitation, standing before the painting.
The man in the painting smiled faintly.
"Merry Christmas."
With those words, the painting slid aside, revealing a hidden passageway.
The masked figure stepped into the passage, and the painting closed behind it.
Nimmon. Order?
Hoffa shook his head, forcing his wildly beating heart to calm down.
He had a vague feeling in his heart but dared not confirm it.
Hoffa gritted his teeth and dispelled his Disillusionment Charm.
"Order," he said to the painting.
The painting slowly slid open.
Without hesitation, Hoffa stepped into the passageway. He had to uncover the truth.
Ahead was a stone spiral staircase. Hoffa ascended swiftly.
Despite the confusion, anxiety, and doubt churning within him, Hoffa was astonished when he reached the room at the top.
He had expected it to lead directly to the Astronomy Tower's peak or perhaps a dungeon imprisoning criminals. What he found instead was an office.
Compared to the opulence of Slughorn's office earlier, this one could only be described as austere.
It was a circular room devoid of decorations, containing just a simple wooden desk, a bookshelf, a spiral staircase, and a row of oil paintings on the wall.
Aside from these, there was nothing else in the office.
If not for the neatly stacked documents on the desk, Hoffa might have thought the place had been ransacked.
He turned his attention to the oil paintings on the wall.
The paintings were arranged chronologically, each labeled with a date.
The earliest depicted a boy riding a flying broomstick, bearing a striking resemblance to Adair Gorshak.
There were several paintings of him—his school years, graduation, and eventually, marriage.
The boy grew into a young man, and the paintings evolved into animated black-and-white photographs.
In the next row, the young man was joined by a woman—the same one from the painting at the corridor's entrance.
Hoffa stopped before the last photograph, where the couple disappeared.
Nimmon Gorshak
(1901–1928)
Alice Gorshak
(1903–1928)
Hoffa's face went pale as he looked up.
The identity of this office's owner was unmistakable—it belonged to the Ravenclaw Head of House, Adair Gorshak. And incredibly, the goblin's previous partner had been the Head's son.
The school had placed the teleportation array in the Head of House's office.
But the masked figure...
A sudden metallic clang from the top of the spiral staircase jolted Hoffa back to the present, like the snapping of a chain.
His heart sank.
Miranda!
He dashed up the spiral staircase in just a few strides, finding the iron door to the outside shattered by a spell. Two steel chains lay scattered on the ground.
Hoffa shoved the door open and burst outside.
In front of him was a vast open-air platform, lined with thick stone pillars for stargazing.
Under the icy night sky, countless blue runes flickered dimly in the moonlight.
At the center of the platform stood the masked figure.
Above, the sky churned with dark green whirlpools, occasionally flashing with eerie light.
The masked figure held its wand high, its tip glowing with a blinding green light.
The raw magical energy in the air made it hard for Hoffa to breathe. He had only experienced such oppressive power once before—outside Ollivander's wand shop, when he had sensed it emanating from Tom Riddle. But this time, it was even more terrifying.
Breaking out of his Disillusionment Charm, Hoffa raised his wand and shouted, "Miranda, stop!"
Hearing his voice, the masked figure extinguished the light on its wand and slowly turned around. Its eerie pale mask remained as mocking as ever.
"Who are you looking for?" it asked softly.
"You!" Hoffa shouted. "Miranda, do you even know what you're doing?"
"You've got the wrong person."
The masked figure tilted its head, interrupting Hoffa.
"Wrong person? After hearing about Charles Crouch leaving the team, the first thing you did was inspect the teleportation array in the snow. Then, when Albert mentioned the teleportation array in the Astronomy Tower, you immediately left the banquet."
Hoffa suppressed the fury rising in his chest.
"Miranda, was it you who let the dark wizards come to kill me?"
"It was me, but you've still got the wrong person."
Without another word, the masked figure flicked its wand like lightning.
A streak of purple light shot out, fast and ruthless.
Prepared, Hoffa dove into a roll.
"Disillus Solment!"
Hoffa vanished into his Disillusionment Charm again and charged at the masked figure.
The figure narrowed its eyes.
"Pointless," it muttered.
It swiftly waved its wand again.
"Scorching Inferno!"
Flames erupted across the ground, roaring high and forming walls of blazing orange.
The temperature soared as the ice on the platform melted rapidly.
Hoffa had never encountered such magic before.
He quickly leaped onto one of the stone pillars, vaulting over the walls of fire, then raised his wand and cast a Stunning Spell.
"Stupefy!"
The opponent didn't even flinch and raised their wand horizontally.
"Protego Totalum!"
The red light of the Stunning Spell struck an invisible ripple and vanished into nothingness.
Hoffa's plan to sneak in and catch his opponent off guard was instantly dashed.
Standing behind the transparent shield, the masked figure sneered. "Do you only know textbook spells? If that's all you've got, you're no match for me."
The opponent was proving more formidable than Hoffa had anticipated, but he refused to give up. While sprinting, he extended his hand, channeling magic into his wand. In an instant, it transformed into a massive broadsword.
With the sword in hand, Hoffa charged forward, slashing at his opponent.
The masked figure stepped back.
"Transfiguration? Interesting. Triplex Armatura!"
Thud! Thud! Thud!
Three heavy thuds echoed as three spectral knights clad in icy-blue steel armor descended from above, landing heavily on the observatory floor.
"Hah!"
With a roar, the knights locked their shields together, forming an impenetrable barrier around the masked figure.
Hoffa swung the broadsword against one of the knights' shields.
Clang!
The clash sent sparks flying and left Hoffa's arms trembling, nearly causing him to spit blood.
The spectral knights' defenses were clearly no ordinary shield charm.
"Impressive. You truly live up to being Dumbledore's prized student," the masked figure remarked coldly from behind the armor.
"Shut up!"
Hoffa retreated a few steps, pouring more magic into his wand. The broadsword in his hand transformed into a massive war hammer.
He took three forceful steps forward, then swung the hammer with all his might.
Boom!
A thunderous crash echoed as one of the spectral knights was sent flying across the observatory.
The masked figure, caught off guard by the attack, quickly retreated. Another knight rushed to fill the gap, but it was a moment too late.
Hoffa seized the opening, retracting his wand and activating his Ghost Walk ability. In a flash, he darted through the gap, grabbing the masked figure's cold wrist, twisting it, and yanking away their wand.
He quickly transformed his wand into a silvery lion-headed gauntlet, which encased his right arm.
With a roar, Hoffa swung an uppercut with the lion-headed gauntlet, striking the masked figure's chin.
Fearing the opponent might be Miranda, Hoffa held back, using only seventy percent of his strength.
Even so, the impact sent the masked figure flying like a ragdoll, shattering their mask. They spun three or four times in the air before crashing heavily to the ground, rolling several more times. Their neck bent at an unnatural angle.
In an instant, the tables had turned. At the cost of half his magical reserves, Hoffa had disarmed and incapacitated his opponent.
Hoffa stared in shock as the figure lay motionless on the ground. He hadn't expected them to be so fragile, crumpling so dramatically.
But he wasn't unscathed either. The repeated exertion had drained him considerably.
Under the snowy Christmas night, the observatory fell silent.
After a long pause, seeing the opponent still sprawled on the ground, Hoffa thought he might have seriously injured them.
"Miranda!?"
Frowning, he cautiously stepped closer.
However, his opponent was far from defeated. They propped themselves up on their arms, shakily rising to their feet. As they turned toward Hoffa, he finally saw their face.
"What the—!"
Hoffa recoiled in horror.
Under the shattered mask was not a familiar face—or any face at all.
There were no eyes, no nose—only a grotesque mouth, resembling the monsters he had seen in Helheim, the underworld of Norse mythology.
Hoffa stood frozen, staring at the creature in disbelief, feeling as if he had lost his grip on reality.
"What the hell are you!?" he shouted in shock.
The faceless being rose fully, staring at him.
"You guess," it replied with a mocking tone.
(End of chapter)
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