Legendary figures are destined to possess extraordinary minds.
With Christmas behind him, a new term and a new year began.
Hoffa gathered his resolve and set off once again.
But this time, he would no longer wait for fate to dictate his life. He was determined to seek out the battle himself.
This was about spirit. About destiny.
In just a few words, that dark persona, Miller, had become a demon haunting Hoffa's mind. Unless he could defeat it, Hoffa believed his life would remain hopeless—relegated to mere survival, aimless and uninspired.
The first step was to understand his adversary.
On the first day back to classes, Miranda, as usual, did not attend Charms.
Yet, Professor Gorsak neither deducted points nor even mentioned her absence.
During the lesson, Hoffa noticed the dark circles under Gorsak's eyes, signs of lingering fatigue. He no longer exuded the same energy as before.
The events of Christmas night had clearly taken a toll on him as well.
After class, Hoffa didn't leave immediately. He stood up and approached Adebe Gorsak.
"Professor, a moment, please."
Gorsak looked at him, puzzled, but stopped.
Aglaea gave him a slight nod as their classmates bustled past. Soon, the classroom was empty except for Hoffa and Gorsak.
This was Hoffa's first time alone with the professor since Christmas.
"I need to know about Miranda," Hoffa said bluntly, ignoring Gorsak's startled expression.
"I want to understand why she sabotaged the teleportation array and the origin of that Miller persona."
It took a moment for Gorsak to process Hoffa's words. He walked a few steps before sitting at a nearby desk, intertwining his fingers.
"Do you realize what you're saying?"
"I do," Hoffa replied calmly. "I've thought it through. I need to understand her."
"May I ask why?" Gorsak didn't refute him; instead, he countered with a question.
"Because you said, 'When you fall, you must get back up from where you fell.' I've gotten back up, but I need to ensure I don't fall again."
Gorsak considered Hoffa's proposal for a long moment.
"Bach, you're just a first-year student. The fact that you were able to help that night was more than enough."
"Miranda is also a first-year student," Hoffa replied, unflinching.
Gorsak didn't reject him outright but deliberated. Finally, he stood and began walking toward the door.
"Bach, you're an outsider. This has nothing to do with you."
"Nothing to do with me?"
Hoffa stepped in front of him, blocking his path.
"Do you think it was mere coincidence that I was chased by dark wizards in the Forbidden Forest? Or do you think I'll just let the same thing happen again?"
"It won't happen again. I give you my word."
"Your word? Can you guarantee you'll be here at school every day, watching over her? Even if you could, how much time will you really have for the school amidst the looming European war? I heard Headmaster Dippet mention that you'll soon be leaving for Romania with him."
"Enough!"
Gorsak snapped, his usual commanding presence as the head of Ravenclaw returning.
"This is not something you're allowed to discuss."
"You're afraid of her finding out."
Hoffa cut through Gorsak's pretense with precision.
"You're afraid Miller will realize you're leaving. The moment you're gone, it'll emerge, won't it? Aside from you and me, no one else in this school can even see it."
"That's enough!"
Gorsak, clearly irritated, waved him off without meeting his gaze. He stood abruptly.
"I'll grant your request, but I'll only give you an extra lesson in private. Come to my office tonight at 7. The new password is Mars. Don't be late."
A faint smile tugged at Hoffa's lips.
"I won't be late."
That evening, Hoffa informed Aglaea about his extra lessons, only to trigger her irritable reaction.
"I haven't dared to sleep properly for several nights. Miranda definitely knows something. The way she looks at me is always strange. If you ask me, the best solution is to send her to St. Mungo's psychiatric ward," Aglaea suggested as they stood on the narrow bridge outside the common room.
"I don't think mental issues can be solved with magic. Your solution is too extreme," Hoffa replied.
"Ha, save that line for Gorsak. I've heard from my family that this old man is notoriously ruthless and domineering in the European wizarding world. I'll bet you five Knuts he's going to teach you some advanced defense spells to deal with Miranda..."
Having not slept well for several nights, Aglaea seemed to be bottling up a lot of frustration.
She needed to vent, and Hoffa could only listen quietly.
When it was nearly 7 o'clock, Hoffa left Ravenclaw Tower and headed toward Professor Gorsak's office in the Astronomy Tower.
Passing through corridors filled with astrolabes and telescopes, Hoffa stopped in front of a double portrait and said, "Mars."
The portrait parted, revealing a spiral staircase. Hoffa climbed up and knocked on the door.
"Come in."
A faint voice sounded from within.
Hoffa opened the door and entered. The room was as modest and sparse as before, but one detail caught his attention: the paintings on the walls were gone. Gorsak had removed them all.
"You're punctual, Hoffa," Gorsak said from behind his wooden desk. "Take a seat."
He gestured to an empty wooden chair in front of him.
After Hoffa sat down, he noticed a black scroll on the desk. Its edges were intricately engraved with runes and symbols, exuding an air of profound mystery.
Hoffa recognized the object immediately: a spellbook scroll.
Six months earlier, he had used a similar tool to learn the Disillusionment Charm in the Violet Society's secret chamber. Like a Pensieve, the spellbook scroll could record memories, but only those related to spells.
Gorsak wasted no time on small talk and went straight to the point.
"If you want to control the dark persona, Miller, I believe you need a powerful control-type spell. The best way to learn magic is undoubtedly to observe other wizards casting it. For this reason, I borrowed this rare spellbook scroll from Headmaster Dippet to use as a teaching tool. Tonight, I will guide you to—"
"Ahem, excuse me, Professor," Hoffa interrupted.
Gorsak frowned in displeasure. "What is it?"
"I'd like to understand her first. You need to tell me everything—how Miranda was influenced by Grindelwald's magic and the origins of the rift between you two."
After a moment of silence, Gorsak said in a deep voice, "Few first-year students are as bold as you."
"I just want to solve the problem," Hoffa replied calmly, meeting Gorsak's gaze.
Gorsak frowned, staring at the ceiling for a moment. Then, intertwining his fingers, he spoke in a measured tone:
"Wizards possess extraordinary power, and with it comes extraordinary responsibility. This world is far from peaceful. There are many reasons for wizards to fight—land and resources among them.
"Every year, the school sends students to disputed regions. This is true of all countries. Some of these students are still in school; others have already graduated. Miranda's parents were among those dispatched."
"Who sent them there?" Hoffa asked. "Was it you?"
After a long pause, Gorsak nodded slowly.
"They were killed by German dark wizards. Miranda was devastated and blamed me entirely for their deaths."
Gorsak's gaze shifted to Hoffa's ear. "Including your friend, Indor. He was also a friend of Neamon. Naturally, he also believes I caused the death of Miranda's parents. And on that point, I do not deny it. But in the face of war, I had little choice."
"Miranda showed exceptional talent in charms from a very young age. Especially after her parents' deaths, her ability to learn spells progressed at an extraordinary speed. But for a young girl, this wasn't a good thing. Displaying such brilliance often attracts unwanted attention. By the time I realized this, it was already too late. Grindelwald had taken notice of her and sought to groom her as a valuable subordinate. He planted a magical seed in her mind—a seed that feeds on her emotions and magic, growing until it eventually replaces her original personality," Gorsak said, pausing briefly.
"You must have seen Schmidt Ruthelof. He is a product of being completely consumed by such a seed. Grindelwald has done this to many people. He's a master at manipulating minds. I kept Miranda at the school, hoping that with the help of other teachers and students, she could overcome her dark persona. But things haven't gone as planned. Her condition has worsened recently. Perhaps after this school year, I'll take her out of Hogwarts."
Hearing this, Hoffa felt a mix of emotions. At the start of the term, he thought he had secured a strong ally, but now it seemed everyone had their own struggles.
Gorsak continued dispassionately, "I appreciate you coming to me on your own initiative, but simply understanding Miranda won't suffice. What you truly need to understand is Grindelwald."
He took out the spellbook scroll, placed it on the desk, and slowly unrolled it.
This time, Hoffa paid closer attention.
As the ancient and tattered scroll unfurled, two intricate symbols appeared on it: a hand and an eye.
Pointing at the scroll with his wand, Gorsak explained, "The hand represents 'attempt,' and the eye represents 'observe.' You can attempt as many times as needed, usually for forced spell learning. Observation, however, is limited to a single instance and is typically used for learning potions or transformations. Frankly, with your current magical power and talent, I doubt you could surpass Miranda in charms."
Without waiting for a response, Gorsak tapped the scroll with his wand and murmured, "Unseal the seal."
A beam of white light burst from the eye symbol on the scroll, quickly spreading across its surface. It was identical to what Hoffa had experienced before.
In the next instant, the white light intensified. Both Hoffa and Gorsak's eyes lost their focus, and they collapsed onto the desk.
...
As before, Hoffa found himself in a void of white—without space, time, or matter.
Gradually, the whiteness faded.
When his vision cleared, Hoffa realized he was standing on a small island surrounded by a vast expanse of calm, deep-blue sea.
The cries of seabirds filled his ears. He stood on a red sandstone plateau bordered by steep cliffs. The multicolored sandstone beneath his feet was home to various seabirds. The air was so clean it felt almost transparent.
On the other side of the island lay a small village. A few simple wooden houses were scattered amidst the forest, some distance away.
This perspective was far less restrictive than the last time Hoffa had used the scroll. This time, it felt more like watching memories through a Pensieve.
"Where is this, Professor?" Hoffa asked.
"Heligoland, 1928. This story belongs to Headmaster Armando Dippet. I hope you can learn something from it," Gorsak replied calmly as he began walking across the sandstone plateau with Hoffa.
Soon, Hoffa saw a row of wizards standing at the edge of a cliff, their robes billowing in the sea wind.
Curious, Hoffa approached the group.
At the front, an older man with a partially bald head stood alone, dressed in silver-white robes. His expression was solemn, and the fierce wind made his robes flutter dramatically.
It was Armando Dippet, the current headmaster. He appeared far more commanding and upright than he had at the opening feast, where he'd seemed hunched and frail.
Behind Dippet stood a row of individuals.
When Hoffa saw them, his heart skipped a beat.
They all wore masks—pale, simple masks adorned with minimal patterns.
They were identical to the figures Hoffa had seen depicted in the paintings on the walls of the Violet Society's secret chamber.
Gorsak took the initiative to explain, "These are members of the Violet Society, one of the most prestigious groups at Hogwarts."
Hoffa asked, "And Headmaster Dippet's connection to them?"
Gorsak replied, "He is their direct leader. Some members of the Violet Society, after graduation, go on to join the British royal court as court wizards."
A mystery unraveled at last—Hoffa now understood why Dippet had brought flowers into the Violet Society's chamber on Christmas Day.
He was the leader of these wizards.
Much like Dumbledore's relationship with the Order of the Phoenix.
Hoffa walked around the group, and sure enough, in the third row, he spotted a man wearing goblin earrings.
Nimon Gorsak.
Gorsak's gaze lingered on that man for a long time before he slowly spoke, "In the observation mode of the spellbook, there is no interaction between the observer and the observed. What you're experiencing is merely a record contained in the spellbook."
Perhaps worried Hoffa wouldn't understand, he added a brief explanation, though it sounded more like he was talking to himself.
Soon, a ship emitting black smoke slowly approached from the sea. Calling it a ship might not be entirely accurate—it was an old-fashioned warship, very old-fashioned.
Hoffa's only reference for such ships came from old photos in history books about the First Sino-Japanese War.
The recorded Dippet's voice said in a deep tone, "They're here."
All the masked wizards around him drew their wands, their expressions solemn, and one by one, they Disapparated—including Miranda's father, Nimon Gorsak.
But Dippet didn't move.
He stood alone on the cliff, watching the shore.
Hoffa's attention shifted to the sea. As the warship docked, about a dozen people disembarked.
They, too, were wizards, but they didn't Apparate. Instead, they climbed the high cliff step by step.
At the front of the group was an extraordinarily handsome middle-aged man. He had slicked-back white hair, deep green eyes, and a tall, imposing figure. He wore a perfectly tailored black overcoat.
Upon reaching the cliff's edge, the man raised his arm, signaling his followers to stop. Then, alone, he strolled casually toward Headmaster Dippet.
Hoffa's eyes lingered on the wizard for a long time, and he began to guess the man's identity.
Sure enough, Dippet rasped, "Grindelwald, do you have what I asked for?"
Gellert Grindelwald.
The Dark Lord of the previous era.
Hoffa approached cautiously, observing this man who was destined to be Dumbledore's greatest rival—the one rumored to be the cause of Dumbledore's heartbreak.
He wasn't like Voldemort, who was monstrous and terrifying. Instead, Grindelwald exuded the charm of a dignified general, someone who could captivate others with just a glance.
Hoffa's gaze lingered on the wand handle at Grindelwald's side.
The Elder Wand. The most powerful wand in existence.
One of the three Deathly Hallows—together, they granted mastery over death.
The handsome middle-aged man flashed a smile that could enchant countless admirers.
"Straight to the point, Headmaster Dippet? Don't you want to chat with me a little first?"
(End of Chapter)
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