Adelbert Gorsak's words provided Hoffa with some comfort, but recovering from such a devastating failure was far from easy.
In the school's corridors, Hoffa wandered aimlessly like a lost soul, his feet carrying him by habit toward the Ravenclaw Tower.
He moved through the halls in a daze, unsure how he had answered the eagle's riddle or even how he managed to return to the Ravenclaw Tower. When he finally arrived at the common room, he sat staring blankly at the flickering flames in the fireplace.
It was the first time in his life that he had actively attempted to achieve something. On the surface, he had succeeded in preventing the destruction of the teleportation array.
But at the same time, he had failed utterly.
Throughout his journey, he had been haunted by the words of the dark persona, Miller.
For half a year, Hoffa had lived under the shadow of World War II, consumed by the fear of war and plagued by a deep sense of insecurity.
He had never spoken honestly with anyone about his feelings. Unlike Harry, he had never sought a confidant, someone with whom he could truly share his thoughts. He believed it was unnecessary.
But Hoffa did not live in a vacuum. He lived in the present, inevitably influenced by others and, in turn, influencing them—sometimes in unexpected and profound ways.
Taking a deep breath, Hoffa sat by the fire in the common room and buried his face in his hands.
At that moment, his emotions were complex and conflicted.
He began to envy the single-minded protagonists of Japanese manga, the decisive and ruthless heroes of web novels, and even Tom Riddle.
Perhaps they were immune to external influences, as if they were born into this world with a clear purpose.
Before his internal conflict could deepen, the sound of a door opening broke the silence. Aglaea, clad in her signature blue pleated skirt, dragged Miranda into the common room.
"Oh, come on, can't you hold your liquor? One sip of fruit wine and you're out—how pathetic," she grumbled.
She glanced up and noticed Hoffa by the fire. Hoffa, in turn, noticed her.
The two fell into their usual silence before Hoffa's attention shifted to Miranda.
Miranda hung her head, limp and lifeless like a rag doll.
Aglaea frowned, lifting Miranda slightly as she sneered, "Took you long enough in the bathroom."
Hoffa didn't explain. Instead, he stood and walked slowly to Miranda's side.
"She's been with you the whole time?"
"Of course. What's your problem?"
"She hasn't gone anywhere else?"
"Nope. Are you out of your mind?" Aglaea snapped irritably.
Hoffa paused, then gently took Miranda from Aglaea's arms. "Could you wait outside for a bit? I need to ask Miranda something. Please."
Aglaea blinked in confusion, looking back and forth between Hoffa and Miranda.
"What could you possibly need to ask?"
Hoffa didn't answer, merely looking at her.
"Fine, but make it quick. I still need a shower."
Reluctantly, she let go, glaring at him with suspicion before leaving the room.
Once she was gone, Hoffa took a deep breath and turned his attention to Miranda.
She hadn't gone anywhere—she had been at Slughorn's party the entire time. Yet, on the rooftop, someone identical to her had appeared.
This meant Miranda was capable of splitting off another persona, one invisible to others. The fact that Hoffa could see it might simply be due to his heightened mental acuity.
Narrowing his eyes, Hoffa touched Miranda's forehead.
Her skin was icy cold.
He recognized the symptoms immediately—this wasn't drunkenness but magical exhaustion.
A realization began to dawn on him. The seed planted by Grindelwald was absorbing Miranda's spirit and magic to give birth to Miller.
Its purpose? To secretly disrupt Hogwarts by sabotaging the teleportation array and allowing dark wizards to infiltrate, ultimately aiming to destroy the school.
It was a cunning strategy, targeting the granddaughter of the Deputy Headmaster.
But when had this begun? At the start of the term? Or much earlier? It must have been planted long ago; otherwise, Aglaea wouldn't have mistaken identities even before the term began.
Yet, which persona held dominance—Miller or Miranda? Or were they completely independent of one another?
Pondering this, Hoffa took another deep breath, activated his meditation technique to restore his magical power, and steadied his thoughts.
Then, he began gently shaking Miranda's shoulders. After a few shakes, Miranda slowly began to awaken by the fireplace.
She opened her eyes weakly.
"What... happened to me?"
Seeing Hoffa, Miranda rubbed her head. "Weren't we at Slughorn's party?"
She sat up like a lazy cat, her movements silent and unhurried. Her gaze was soft, her eyes veiled in a dreamy haze, as though completely unaware of the life-and-death standoff they had shared just an hour earlier.
Hoffa watched her in silence.
Noticing the bruises on Hoffa's face, Miranda furrowed her brow and crawled closer, rubbing her forehead. "Who did you get into a fight with?"
Her cold fingers brushed against Hoffa's face, but he still didn't say a word.
Miranda, perplexed, continued to rub her forehead and stared at Hoffa.
"What's with that look? Is it pity?"
Hoffa averted his gaze and said calmly, "You drank too much at Slughorn's party."
"Did I?"
Miranda rubbed her head again and sat back down, muttering to herself. "I can't even remember what I ate. How much did I drink?"
"Do you know Grindelwald?" Hoffa asked abruptly, folding his arms.
At the question, his muscles tensed.
Miranda's mouth fell open, and she stared at him with a blank, almost foolish expression.
"Huh? What?"
From her reaction, Hoffa knew it was hopeless.
There were only two possibilities. Either the two personas operated independently, as seen before when she inexplicably forgot helping him borrow a book, or her acting skills were so masterful that it was impossible to discern truth from falsehood.
Either way, Hoffa knew he wouldn't get any answers from Miranda.
"Never mind. Let me take you to rest," Hoffa said calmly, supporting her by the arm. "Get a good night's sleep."
He half-guided, half-carried Miranda to the door of the girls' dormitory. After lingering there for a moment, he turned and quickly made his way to the narrow bridge outside the common room.
There, under the high sky, Aglaea stood with her piercing blue eyes full of displeasure.
"Hey, what do you want from me?"
Hoffa leaned on the railing beside her. "I have an important question to ask you."
Aglaea raised an eyebrow. "What?"
"Tell me, who is Miller Gorsak? On the train, you mistook me for Miller. Why?"
Aglaea froze for a moment, her face reddening slightly. "Get lost."
She turned to leave.
Hoffa stepped in her way, persistent. "Tell me now."
"Why bring that up?" Aglaea snapped, irritated. "I made a mistake. Is that not allowed?"
"Then why did you specifically mention Miller and no one else?" Hoffa pressed.
"What does that have to do with you?" Aglaea frowned. "I don't know Miller. I've never even met him. I just know of him. In wizarding families, we're all somewhat related. When I was little, I often heard people talk about a prodigy in the Gorsak family named Miller. I thought they were exaggerating and even wanted to challenge him. But that guy seemed extremely reclusive; no matter how hard I looked, I couldn't find him."
She shrugged, leaving the sentence unfinished.
"So you don't actually know Miller," Hoffa concluded.
"Exactly. I believe this so-called prodigy was supposed to attend Hogwarts, but he never showed up. As for why I mistook you for him, it's because the Gorsak family has close ties with goblins. When I was very young, I met a man named Nimon Gorsak who wore an earring just like yours. But he died later, on Black Gralan Island. I assumed you were his son and inherited the earring."
"As for the connection between Miranda and Miller, I'd guess they're cousins or something. Wizarding families have complicated intermarriages, and the Gorsak family isn't small. But I've never asked Miranda, and she's never told me anything about it," Aglaea added.
Hoffa fell silent. He knew the situation was far more complicated than Aglaea imagined.
The seemingly sweet and innocent girl-next-door had a side to her that was completely hidden from the world—a side that was intensely dark, wild, and dangerous.
Aglaea crossed her arms and studied Hoffa curiously.
"What's going on with you? What happened? Why are you so concerned about Miranda?"
Hoffa hesitated for a few seconds. The shadows of his past haunted him one last time. He thought of Miller's mocking words about hiding in his own little world.
Damn it!
In the end, Hoffa chose to change.
He told Aglaea everything that had happened that evening, leaving out no details. He realized he might need help to solve the problem, and perhaps Aglaea, as a fellow girl, could offer better advice.
When Hoffa finished, Aglaea stared into the darkness below the narrow bridge with an expression as if she'd seen a ghost.
It was a long time before she turned back to him.
"You're saying that Miranda and Miller are the same person?"
"Exactly."
There was a brief silence.
"You've got to be kidding me," Aglaea said, incredulous. "Did you hit your head or something?"
Hoffa neither argued nor agreed. He simply sighed.
Aglaea studied him for a moment, her disbelief shifting to astonishment.
"My god. She actually sabotaged the teleportation array. I... I've been sleeping next to a girl with a warped personality, and her other self was created by Gellert Grindelwald, Germany's top wizard!"
Her face went pale, and her tone grew increasingly agitated.
"How can the school allow this? Do you even realize how dangerous an emotionally unstable wizard can be? If this continues, she could end up turning into an Obscurial. Do you even know what an Obscurial is—"
Hoffa raised a hand.
"Calm down. Her power is a hundred times greater than you think."
Aglaea opened her mouth, as if to argue further, but ultimately composed herself. The life-and-death battle they had shared in the Forbidden Forest had solidified her trust in Hoffa as a teammate.
"Do you have any good ideas?" Aglaea asked.
Hoffa remained silent for a moment, staring into the darkness below the narrow bridge. He thought of the note in the Forbidden Forest warning him to leave and the last surviving dodo.
Finally, his gaze hardened with determination.
"Aglaea."
"What?"
"Can you help me brew a potion?"
Aglaea's eyes widened in disbelief. The boy before her seemed almost unrecognizable from the one she had known.
Then, almost reflexively, she blurted out, "Beg me."
Hoffa didn't respond, only watching her intently.
Her cheeks flushed.
"I—I'm just joking. What potion do you need?"
"A magic restoration potion. A lot of it. As much as you can make."
Aglaea considered his request for a moment, then nodded.
"Alright, I'll make sure you get it."
"Thank you."
"And you?" Aglaea asked softly. "What are you planning to do yourself?"
Hoffa lifted his head, took a deep breath, and declared firmly, "I'm going to find Gorsak again. I'm going to solve this problem."
(End of Chapter)
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