For the next week, Hoffa wasn't able to return to his original dormitory. Even if he wanted to sneak in, it was futile—the Ravenclaw Tower was simply too high.
Osivia didn't come looking for Hoffa, but recently, she had been attending each class for only thirty minutes. After completing her teaching duties, she would leave the remaining time for students to practice on their own. She would then rush off to somewhere unknown.
Hoffa suspected that, given her stubborn nature, she was spending most of her time searching for the White Stone Tomb.
The lack of engagement from the Transfiguration professor caused dissatisfaction among most students. The boys didn't mind as much—after all, they were unlikely to complain about their exotic and beautiful teacher.
The girls, however, were a different story. During a Transfiguration class on November 9th, Aglaya crossed her arms and huffed, "I've never met a teacher this indifferent before. Doesn't she fear being reported?"
Miranda teased, "Reported for what? Sticking to the syllabus?"
"She's just irresponsible," Aglaya retorted coldly.
"The Transfiguration teaching assistant is right next to you. You could always ask him your questions," Miranda pointed out.
"I'd rather die," Aglaya replied flatly.
Bang!The Transfiguration classroom door was suddenly flung open, interrupting their conversation.
Hoffa, who had been reading a book, turned to see a brash blond-haired boy stride in. Casually leaning against the Slytherin table, it was none other than Abraxas Malfoy.
"Hey, the school hospital has opened visitation. Who wants to come with me to check on Riddle?" he announced to the Slytherins.
The words hit the room like a brick thrown into still water, instantly stirring excitement.
Since Tom Riddle's shooting incident, he had been confined to the school hospital's intensive care unit, with no visitors allowed.
Students curious to ask questions, gather intel, or express sympathy, goodwill, or even admiration had all been turned away.
But now, with the school finally permitting visitation, murmurs filled the classroom.
All the Slytherin students stood up and flocked around Malfoy, eagerly following him out. Even students from the other three houses couldn't resist standing and trailing behind to see what the fuss was about.
As the noisy crowd disappeared through the door, Hoffa rose to his feet.
This puzzled Aglaya, who asked irritably, "What, are you planning to visit that guy too?" She still hadn't forgotten her loss to Riddle in the duel.
But Hoffa nodded. He did intend to go, though not for a visit.
As the first eyewitness to the attack, Tom Riddle likely had more information about the intruder. If Hoffa could uncover that information, it might bring him closer to the truth.
Aglaya squinted at him suspiciously. "I heard you two were from the same orphanage before coming to school. Are you on good terms or something?"
Miranda glanced between Hoffa and Aglaya but ultimately stayed seated, choosing not to intervene.
Hoffa chuckled dryly. "What if I told you he killed me once back at the orphanage? Would you believe me?"
Aglaya's expression shifted from sour to stunned.
Patting her on the shoulder, Hoffa reassured her, "Relax. I'm just going to gather some intel. No need to overthink it."
With that, he strode out the door.
The school was abuzz, with students of all years rushing to the hospital. Some even carried old-fashioned wooden cameras, eager to secure a headline for the school newspaper.
The suppressed rumors about the shooting incident were once again gaining traction. With the perpetrator still not apprehended, everyone wanted to see Tom Riddle for themselves.
Hoffa arrived at the hospital entrance, which was already swarming with students. Two nurses stood guard at the door, but it remained firmly shut.
This struck Hoffa as odd.
After a while, Malfoy emerged from the intensive care ward. Flanked by a tall Slytherin boy, he raised his hand arrogantly to silence the crowd.
Then, in a slow, deliberate tone, he announced, "Everyone, line up. No one is allowed to visit my friend without my permission."
This caused some frustration among the student reporters and curious onlookers.
Hoffa watched Malfoy closely, noticing a faint but undeniable smugness in his expression.
Clearly, Malfoy was reveling in the moment, his mannerisms and tone deliberately mimicking Headmaster Dippet's authoritative demeanor.
Hoffa, however, didn't try to barge in. He didn't mind adhering to Slytherin's imposed visitation rules—at least for now, given the crowd.
Yet after waiting for half an hour, Hoffa realized that Malfoy wasn't letting anyone without a personal connection to him into the ward.
Even Slytherins in green robes had to flatter Malfoy before being allowed entry. As for students from the other three houses, the chances were even slimmer.
An hour later, the once-crowded hospital entrance had thinned out, with most students leaving in frustration.
To be honest, Hoffa also considered leaving. He felt that getting in through normal means was nearly impossible.
But this matter held exceptional significance for him, so he chose to persist.
Sure enough, when Hoffa finally approached Malfoy, the latter extended his hand to stop him without hesitation.
"Hold it," Malfoy said, eyeing him with amusement.
Hoffa met his gaze calmly.
"Been waiting long?" Malfoy asked mockingly.
"Can I go in?" Hoffa asked directly.
"What do you think?" Malfoy sneered.
"This isn't about personal grudges," Hoffa stated evenly.
"I said no, so no," Malfoy replied lazily.
"Is there a condition?"
"A condition? Sure. Have that little brat Dulasay come and negotiate with me," Malfoy said.
"Watch your words," Hoffa warned.
"Oh, and what are you going to do about it?" Malfoy sneered, stepping closer until their noses nearly touched. "Now, before I lose my temper, get out of my sight."
"Is this your hospital, Malfoy?" Hoffa asked calmly.
Bang!
Malfoy grabbed Hoffa by the collar, his expression turning fierce. "No, but I suspect you Ravenclaw students of harboring the culprit and orchestrating the attack on Slytherin—especially you and your two accomplices. You're the prime suspects."
Hoffa glanced at Malfoy's hand gripping his collar. "That's a serious accusation, Malfoy."
Malfoy smirked and tilted his head. "Maybe I should call in a few Wizengamot judges to investigate you personally. Let's see if you've got any Muggle weapons hidden in your trousers!"
The absurdity of the accusation made Hoffa chuckle.
"That's a pretty flimsy charge," Hoffa said lightly. "I doubt you could summon any judges."
"Oh? Doubting me, are we?"
Malfoy tightened his grip, but before things could escalate, the tall Slytherin boy at his side stepped forward, placing a hand on Malfoy's shoulder as if to pull him back.
"I'm not doubting you," Hoffa said with a shake of his head. "I just think you could come up with a better excuse if you want to put me on trial."
"Such as?" Malfoy asked mockingly.
"Like private fighting."
Malfoy froze, his expression shifting quickly.
Before he could react—
Thud!
A heavy lion-headed gauntlet punched Malfoy square in the face, sending him flying backward. With a crash, he slammed through the hospital ward's door, tumbling multiple times before landing inside.
The two nurses at the entrance screamed in terror.
"You scoundrel!"
The tall Slytherin student didn't hesitate. He drew his wand instantly.
Boom!
Three massive stone hands extended out of the wall, gripping people tightly.
The two nurses, who had tried to run for help, were pinned against the wall by the stone hands, their mouths covered by smaller stone fingers crossing over them.
The tall Slytherin was also caught, a stone hand wrapping firmly around his waist. Suspended in the air, he raised his wand and roared, "Confringo!"
Hoffa's body shifted slightly taller, his muscles expanding. With lightning speed, he sidestepped the blue destructive beam and retaliated with a punch to the tall Slytherin's face.
Enhanced by his transformation, Hoffa's strength matched that of an adult. The punch caused the Slytherin's head to jolt, blood seeping from the corner of his mouth. Hoffa snatched the wand from his hand and tossed it to the ground.
Across the room, Malfoy struggled to his feet, blood dripping from his nose. He pulled out his wand and roared, "Serpents! Kill him!"
Three translucent snakes materialized, slithering out from different corners of the doorway, their jaws unhinging as they spat searing beams.
Hoffa disappeared in an instant.
The heat rays melted the floor tiles where he had just been standing, turning them into bubbling magma.
The next moment, Hoffa reappeared directly in front of Malfoy. Disgusted by his opponent's murderous intent, Hoffa struck Malfoy in the face with another punch.
Boom!
Malfoy was flung back into the crowd gathered around Tom Riddle's hospital bed.
"Help!"
"He's going to kill someone!"
Slytherins screamed in panic.
More stone hands erupted from the ground like a domino effect, grabbing Malfoy and lifting him into the air before depositing him right in front of Hoffa.
Hoffa stood over Malfoy, looking down at him with disdain.
Malfoy raised his wand in trembling hands, only for Hoffa to kick it aside effortlessly.
"You're too inefficient, Malfoy," Hoffa said, retrieving his own wand. "Do you think this is some sort of dueling club every day?"
From the hospital bed, a sharp voice suddenly interrupted, "Stop it!"
Hoffa glanced at Tom Riddle.
Grabbing Malfoy by the hair, Hoffa forced him to turn his head, making him face him directly.
"I think you'll receive excellent treatment here," Hoffa remarked coldly.
Thud!
Another punch landed, bruising Malfoy's left eye.
"You dare hit me? You filthy pauper, how dare you—"
Thud!
Another punch followed, leaving Malfoy with a panda-like face.
"Ahhh!"
Thud!
This time, the punch landed squarely on Malfoy's mouth, silencing his screams.
"You can choose to hide behind Riddle, or you can try to leverage your outside connections against me. I don't care. But here, in this school, I'm the Transfiguration assistant. I have the same authority as any teacher. If I want to see someone, it's none of your business!"
Without waiting for a response, Hoffa delivered a spinning kick to Malfoy's chest.
Crash!
Amidst flying rubble, Malfoy tumbled several times before landing back in the group of Slytherins surrounding the hospital beds.
Pale-faced and tightly clenching his jaw, Malfoy shut his eyes, feigning unconsciousness.
By now, the other Slytherins had fully come to their senses. They gathered around Malfoy, drawing their wands and glaring daggers at Hoffa.
The tension in the air was palpable.
But Hoffa didn't care about the crowd. He didn't even bother drawing his wand, keeping his hands casually in his pockets as he focused on the hospital bed.
To everyone's surprise, a violent coughing fit broke the silence.
Tom Riddle cleared his throat, his voice hoarse but commanding: "Everyone. Get out."
The green-robed Slytherins turned, startled.
"Tom, what are you saying?"
"That lunatic—"
"Out. Don't make me repeat myself."
Tom Riddle's voice was heavy with menace, his eyes glinting with a dangerous edge.
"Tom!"
A tall Slytherin girl stomped her foot in frustration.
"Get. Out."
Tom Riddle's raspy voice carried an unmistakable threat of violence.
The girl froze mid-sentence, biting back her words. Glaring at Hoffa, she waved a hand. The other Slytherins hoisted Malfoy onto their shoulders and stormed out of the room.
Hoffa remained where he was, unmoving.
With a loud slam, the hospital door shut. Hoffa raised his right hand slightly, and two stone hands crossed in front of the door, sealing it securely.
Now, only Hoffa and Tom Riddle remained in the hospital ward.
(End of Chapter)
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