The next day, Hoffa woke up early. Since his internship at St. Mungo's Hospital, he had hardly ever woken up past six.
When he woke up, the class schedule was already placed on his bedside table.
Hoffa picked it up and saw that the first class of the day was Transfiguration. On Friday afternoon, there was also a new course for third-years: Magical Creatures.
At this time, the course was still simply called Magical Creatures. If Hoffa remembered correctly, in later years it was renamed Care of Magical Creatures, taught by Rubeus Hagrid.
However, Hagrid was nowhere to be seen now. Surprisingly, the course was taught by Aglaia's father, someone Hoffa had never met. This made him curious about the class.
Lying in bed, Hoffa flipped the schedule over, hoping to find out when Dumbledore's class was. He still wanted to ask Dumbledore some questions. But after scanning the schedule back and forth, he realized that Charms was missing. Most of the schedule was filled with Potions and Herbology.
These two subjects dominated the timetable, pushing aside many other courses like Arithmancy, Divination, Astronomy, Ancient Runes, and even Charms.
Hoffa could understand this arrangement; after all, in times of war, medicine was of utmost importance. One extra potion could mean one more saved life. But completely removing Charms seemed excessive—Charms was an important subject too!
Feeling a bit helpless, Hoffa set the schedule aside and got up to dress and wash.
At breakfast, Hoffa ran into Miranda and Aglaia. Of course, the peculiar blonde prefect, Sherlock Bohan, was also there.
This upper-year prefect was always around Miranda and Aglaia. Whenever Hoffa appeared within her sight, Prefect Bohan would flash an impeccable smile and do this or that for the two girls.
However, while Miranda was polite yet dismissive toward her, Aglaia mostly remained silent when in her company.
This made Hoffa both puzzled and amused. It seemed as though she wanted to take his place and become Miranda and Aglaia's new friend.
Hoffa didn't mind his two friends socializing with others—Ravenclaw wasn't exactly a house that emphasized interpersonal relationships.
But the way Prefect Bohan looked at him, as if he were a thief eyeing her treasure, annoyed him. Did he really look like some kind of lunatic? What was she so wary of?
Fortunately, during the first Transfiguration class, Prefect Bohan couldn't stick to Miranda and Aglaia. Being a fifth-year, she had her own classes to attend.
When Hoffa entered the Transfiguration classroom with his textbook, he found that it had undergone a dramatic transformation.
He almost thought he had walked into an empty room. The ceiling was painted black, and the floor was painted white, giving the room an odd appearance.
All the books and props left behind by Dumbledore and Ossivia had been removed—nothing was left. There were no desks, chairs, blackboards, or projectors.
As Hoffa stood there in bewilderment, Miranda walked in and frowned at the classroom. "Did they paint this room upside down?"
She rubbed her chin and asked Hoffa, "Have you ever met this Jacob Bohan professor?"
"Yes," Hoffa replied after a pause, "but only twice."
"Oh." Miranda thought for a moment, then turned to Aglaia, who was standing on the other side. "What's your relationship with him?"
Aglaia answered succinctly, "Mother's brother."
"Wow, your family's taken over the school staff, huh?" Miranda teased. "An uncle and a father—no wonder they put a safe around you."
"What safe?" Aglaia asked, puzzled.
"The prefect who follows you around every day, afraid someone might steal you away. Isn't she a Bohan too?"
Aglaia turned her head away, clearly not wanting to continue the conversation.
At that moment, the other students arrived.
When they saw the empty classroom, they began to murmur.
"What's going on here?"
"Where are the desks?"
"Is this for real?"
"Are we in the wrong place?"
"You're not in the wrong place."
A loud yet ethereal voice came from behind.
The students turned around and saw a middle-aged man slowly walking in. He passed through the crowd and stood at the center of the room. Spreading his arms, he smiled warmly and said, "This is exactly the teaching method I want. Please, take a seat."
A seat?
Hoffa glanced at the spotless white floor and thought it was strange. With a floor painted white, wouldn't it soon get dirty from all the footprints?
Transfiguration was Hoffa's best subject. Whether it was Dumbledore in first year or Ossivia in second year, he had learned a great deal from these teachers.
But the problem now was that there were no materials for Transfiguration in this classroom. What exactly was this professor planning to teach?
Professor Bohan sat down first, so the other students followed suit, sitting on the empty floor. The scene resembled an ancient Greek philosopher giving a lecture.
Miranda sat beside Hoffa, while Aglaia chose to sit next to another girl, ignoring both Miranda and Hoffa.
Miranda looked at Aglaia's indifferent profile and asked, "What did you do to upset her?"
"I—"
Before Hoffa could explain, he felt someone's gaze on him. It was Professor Bohan, and he immediately decided against whispering.
After the class quieted down, the Transfiguration teacher, sitting cross-legged, raised a finger. "What are you holding in your hands? Bricks?"
"Textbooks," someone answered.
"Oh, I thought you were going to use them to build a wall," Jacob said with a faint tone of sarcasm.
The students exchanged puzzled glances at their textbooks.
Jacob continued, "Before I came, Headmaster Dippet told me that this year, Hogwarts must spare no effort in training elites. Do you all want to become elites?"
"Yes," the students replied hesitantly, unsure what the Transfiguration professor was up to.
"Then throw away your textbooks," he said lazily.
"Why?" someone immediately protested.
"Because they're useless."
The students' expressions twitched. Someone retorted, "Textbooks teach us magical knowledge. Without knowledge, how can we become elites?"
"Oh, it's very simple. We play," Jacob said with a mischievous smile.
A moment of silence followed.
Then, the students couldn't hold it in anymore. Laughter began to ripple through the crowd, growing louder and louder until many of them were laughing so hard they couldn't sit upright. Jacob, however, made no move to stop them.
Hoffa couldn't help but study the man who had once caused him to end up in prison. Was this guy for real, or was he just out of his mind? How could he start the class with such shocking remarks?
At that moment, the laughter among the students subsided, and a Slytherin student stepped forward, sneering. "Professor Bohan, we didn't come to Hogwarts to play."
"And what are you here to do?" Jacob asked, looking seriously at the boy.
"To study magical knowledge, grow stronger, and survive in this chaotic world," the boy declared confidently.
"That's what you think?"
"Absolutely."
"And you?" Jacob turned to another student.
"Of course, I'm not here to play either," the second student replied.
Finally, Jacob directed his gaze to Hoffa. "Do you think the same?"
Hoffa thought carefully. Back in his first year, his mind had been filled with such aspirations. Though that sentiment had faded somewhat over the past two years, he undeniably still wished to grow stronger.
"I agree with them," Hoffa affirmed.
Jacob nodded. "So, all of you think this way? Study hard and grow strong, right?"
"Right," the students answered in unison.
Jacob nodded in satisfaction. "As I thought—everyone here is an ambitious fool."
The room erupted into an uproar.
"Hey, who are you calling fools?"
"A professor can't talk to us like that!"
"What kind of crazy professor are you?"
"Who let this lunatic in here?"
Some students crossed their arms in disdain, while others spat on the floor. Hoffa felt that if not for the badge on Jacob's chest, some of the more hot-tempered students might have rushed up to punch him.
Yet, the new Transfiguration professor remained unfazed, as if the students' outrage was no more than empty air. Calmly, he said, "Study and grow strong—that's what you think. But that's also what the Germans think, the Japanese think, and the Italians think. And not only do they think it, but they've already put it into action.
In this world, as long as someone has reason, they will think the same. If everyone is striving in this direction, why should you be the ones to become elites and not them?"
As soon as Jacob finished speaking, a boy stood up to refute him.
"Because we can surpass others through hard work. Life is inherently a cruel competition—it's like crossing a narrow bridge amidst a throng."
Jacob nodded. "True. But even if you cross the narrow bridge, you are still just a soldier, or perhaps a horse."
"But—"
"But what?"
Jacob's gaze sharpened slightly as he interrupted, "When you cross one narrow bridge, you'll find another narrow bridge ahead. You'll keep pushing forward, only to encounter yet another narrow bridge. Bridge after bridge, you'll struggle through, battered and bruised. And then, one day, you'll fall.
If, by some stroke of luck, you reach the end of the bridges, do you know what you'll find? Chaos. Nothing but chaos. No more bridges.
You will feel fear, terror even, because the skills you've learned are only about crossing bridges—not confronting chaos or the unknown. You might even begin to question your life and why you were brought into this world at all."
The room fell into a stunned silence.
"Following the rules," Jacob said with a smile. "The only reason you think this way is that someone told you to.
And you believe it because everyone wants to understand the world and bind it with rules. It gives you a false sense of security.
But the world is ever-changing. It doesn't follow any rules. The rules of today may be obsolete tomorrow. The bridges built today may decay, collapse, and disappear by tomorrow."
"But—"
"But what?"
Another student tried to argue but was at a loss for words.
Jacob continued, "The world has never lacked lives that strive. But the moment wizard blood flows through your veins, you are destined to be different from ordinary people. This is both a gift of fate and a heavy responsibility.
I won't teach you to mindlessly push through narrow bridges. I will teach you how to build a bridge in chaos for others to cross. Now, those who accept my perspective, throw away your books. If not, I won't force you. Everyone is free to choose their own path."
After a brief silence, a Slytherin student was the first to act, discarding their book as if it were worthless. This triggered a chain reaction among the others.
Hoffa felt his worldview begin to waver. Out of curiosity, he also placed his book on the ground.
(End of Chapter)
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