To be chosen by the Care of Magical Creatures professor and escape the burdensome, mechanical coursework, one must swim across the Black Lake—a distance of over fifty kilometers. For ordinary Muggles, this task would seem like a sheer fantasy.
Hofah grabbed a swimsuit and entered the changing room, continuously brainstorming ways to cross the lake.
The wooden changing room was quite basic, clearly a temporary structure. Inside, dozens of house-elves bustled back and forth, neatly folding the students' clothes and organizing them meticulously.
The swimsuits provided by the school appeared simple and old-fashioned—just shorts without a top. The material felt like the skin of some aquatic creature. On the side of the shorts, there was a rune resembling the shape of "川," though its meaning was unclear.
Once Hofah had changed, the male and female students emerged from their respective changing rooms, and the scene turned into something akin to a large pool party.
The girls' swimsuits were simple—tight, one-piece designs. They lacked the exaggerated allure of modern styles, yet the novelty of the experience had the students buzzing with excitement as they pointed and commented.
The boys gathered to discuss the girls' figures, while the girls whispered about the boys. Some were bold, others pretended to be nonchalant, but everyone's gazes roamed.
At this point, Aglaea, known for her stunning beauty, surprisingly did not stand out. In swimsuits, body proportions gained prominence, and though she was blooming, she was still only thirteen. The tight-fitting suit highlighted her youthful slenderness, making her seem unremarkable at first glance.
In contrast, her prefect companion, Sherlock, became the center of attention among the boys. Her figure was undeniably striking—ample curves and a slim waist. Even from a 15-year-old's perspective, it was almost over the top.
Hofah glanced at her a few times, but she immediately placed her hands on her hips and shot him a sharp glare, her gaze lingering on his face for only a moment.
Hofah turned away, thinking, Her figure's nice, but she's no match for Ociwia.
Suddenly, he felt a cool sensation on his waist. Turning around, he saw Miranda grinning mischievously as she poked at him.
"What are you doing?"
Hofah jumped aside, swatting away her playful hand.
"Who would've thought? You've got quite the figure," Miranda said with an admiring look.
Hofah paused, then dryly replied, "Ha, your observation skills are a bit slow, aren't they?"
Miranda looked around before leaning in close to Hofah's ear and whispering, "I'll tell you a secret: those girls over there are betting on who gets to touch your abs first. Whoever does gets a payout."
Hofah froze in shock and peered past Miranda. By the trees, a group of fourth- and fifth-year girls were chatting excitedly. It was unclear which house they belonged to, but when they noticed Hofah's gaze, they started stomping their feet in excitement.
"What?"
Annoyed, he said, "Do they think I'm a statue in a park? Pay to touch me?"
"Two hundred Galleons," Miranda replied.
Hofah stiffened. Two hundred Galleons? He'd never seen that much money in his life. Were these girls really that wealthy?
Swallowing, he rasped, "Split it with me?"
"I thought you'd have a bit more dignity," Miranda said, stifling a laugh.
"Getting touched doesn't cost me anything," Hofah replied matter-of-factly.
"Plus, you'd make money. Honestly, I envy you—being adored like this."
Miranda teased as she slowly moved her delicate hand toward Hofah's stomach.
But just then, Hofah felt a prickling sensation on the back of his neck, as if someone were jabbing him with a red-hot poker. Miranda froze and withdrew her hand.
There was killing intent!
Hofah turned to look but saw nothing. However, he did notice Aglaea in the distance, arms crossed, staring at the clouds in the sky.
Their eyes met briefly before Miranda stuck out her tongue and said, "Looks like we won't be making that money."
Just then, a loud splash echoed nearby.
Someone had jumped into the water.
A few tall Gryffindors, showing off in front of the girls, flexed their muscles theatrically before diving into the lake one after another.
However, barely a kilometer in, they were exhausted. This was no ordinary swimming pool. After another kilometer, they turned back, flailing as they attempted to swim to shore.
Not long after, their legs seemed to cramp. They floundered wildly in the water, yelling for help. The students watching from the shore were stunned.
At that moment, giant tentacles emerged from the water, scooping up the struggling Gryffindors and tossing them back onto the grass.
The more cautious students standing by the shore watched the drenched Gryffindor seventh-years with unease. The initial excitement wore off as everyone realized the real challenge wasn't the party atmosphere but reaching the opposite shore of the lake to complete Professor Delacassé's task.
Hofah stood on the shore, looking at the vast expanse of the lake and the distant, barely visible Scottish Highlands. He thought to himself, This teacher has set a tough challenge.
He couldn't swim—he was a complete landlubber.
Fifty kilometers was a daunting distance.
Even a world-class swimming champion would collapse midway. This meant magic was essential. But there weren't many spells suited for floating on water, and Hofah didn't know any. Whenever he had fallen into water before, it had never been his swimming skills that saved him.
"Have you figured it out yet?" Miranda asked.
"Almost."
Hofah nodded. He had a few ideas in mind.
The first was gillyweed, the plant Harry used in the Triwizard Tournament in the future. It could grant him the ability to swim. Another option was transformation—though his Animagus form wasn't aquatic, he could reshape his body into a streamlined form to enhance his speed.
Miranda said, "Since you've got a plan, I'll head out first. Honestly, I'm not a fan of swimming."
With that, she snapped her fingers.
A transparent bubble-like barrier enveloped her entire body. She stepped into the lake and sank straight down.
At the bottom, she walked leisurely toward the other side of the lake. Though "walked" wasn't quite accurate—it was more like spacewalking. She moved incredibly fast, covering ten meters with each step.
The watching students murmured among themselves.
"Is that the Bubble-Head Charm?"
"Probably."
"But why does the Bubble-Head Charm make her sink?"
"Maybe she used another spell as well."
"Should we try it too?"
The Bubble-Head Charm wasn't particularly difficult, so many students began imitating Miranda. However, once they jumped into the water, they couldn't even control their direction. They flailed helplessly, drifting with the current and bumping into one another—walking leisurely was out of the question.
Hofah thought to himself, When it comes to spellwork and magical control, Miranda really outshines me. The same spell, cast by different people, yields completely different results.
Meanwhile, Sherlock, the prefect with the striking figure, drew even more attention.
She took a graceful step forward and fell backward into the lake. As she fell, her body transformed into a mass of clear liquid, disappearing upon impact with the water.
The onlookers gasped in amazement.
"What was that spell?"
"No idea. She didn't even say an incantation!"
"Elemental Assimilation Charm. It's an advanced magic," a senior student said, crossing his arms and marveling.
Realizing that brute force wouldn't be enough to swim across the lake, the Hogwarts students began showcasing their ingenuity. Some dipped their hands into the water to summon schools of fish, using them to propel themselves to the other side. Older students, however, walked calmly onto the lake, the water beneath their feet freezing into a blue surface as they stepped.
When most of the students had left, only a few remained on the grassy shore. Aglaea was still there. Hoffa looked at her, thinking about striking up a conversation.
But without a word, she sat cross-legged by the lake and conjured a phantom from within herself. The phantom darted toward the opposite shore like a streak of light.
The phantom had no physical form or weight, resembling a ghostly apparition. In the blink of an eye, it had covered several kilometers across the lake.
Hoffa watched curiously, wondering what purpose the phantom served since Aglaea's physical body remained seated by the shore.
What happened next left Hoffa stunned. Aglaea stood up, took a single step forward, and vanished into thin air. Meanwhile, the phantom, which had sprinted several kilometers, reappeared at her original spot before dissipating into thin air with a faint poof.
She and her phantom had swapped places.
Such advanced spatial magic! Hoffa was secretly amazed. This young girl had grown so much stronger in just a month—it was hard to believe.
Watching the students vanish one by one, Hoffa stopped observing and chose a different path. Instead of heading to the lake, he walked back to the castle.
He planned to borrow some gillyweed from Professor Slughorn, the Potions master, to compensate for his inability to swim. He had no doubt that Slughorn would oblige since the professor had taken care of him for a month during his second year, and they had always been on good terms.
Since the magical creatures class involved the entire school, the corridors were empty as Hoffa walked through the castle in his swim trunks. However, as he reached the third-floor hallway, the paintings on the walls began waking up. Upon seeing a half-naked man strolling by, the painted figures reacted with a mix of shock and scorn.
"Hey!"
"What year are you in?"
"So indecent!"
"Shameful!"
"Why not take off your trunks too?"
"What's with that style? Tight-fitting?"
"Is this the disgusting fashion trend now?"
Hoffa covered his ears, pretending not to hear. Just then, a group of ghosts floated toward him from the end of the hallway. Both men and women, they were dressed in frilly gowns like medieval ladies heading to a tea party. However, their attitudes were far more liberal than those of the paintings.
The silver-white ghosts floated past Hoffa, covering their mouths as they giggled.
"Hey, where are your clothes?"
"Is it Halloween already?"
"Youth is wonderful."
"When I was alive, I had a body like yours."
A female ghost lingered around Hoffa, phasing through him repeatedly as if trying to touch him. Though she couldn't physically touch him, her actions sapped his body heat, making him shiver.
Annoyed, Hoffa finally snapped. "What are you looking at? Never seen someone wearing swim trunks at Hogwarts?"
"Never," a ghost replied earnestly. "I wish I could try it too."
"Ugh!" Hoffa groaned.
When he reached the Potions office on the third floor, the crowd of ghosts finally dispersed. He knocked on the door.
It opened to reveal a half-bald head. Slughorn, puffing on a cigar, almost choked when he saw a nearly naked student at his door. He barked, "What on earth is this?"
"Professor, it's me," Hoffa said, waving the smoke away.
"Oh, it's you!" Slughorn's expression softened as he recognized Hoffa. "Why are you dressed like that? Got yourself into trouble with a girl?"
"What are you talking about, Professor?" Hoffa replied, exasperated. "I need to borrow some gillyweed for the magical creatures class."
"Gillyweed? Why do you need that?"
"We're swimming, Professor."
"Is this Fatir DeLacresse's class?"
"Yes."
"He's making you swim?"
"Yes."
"No wonder. I should've guessed. That lunatic!" Slughorn smacked his forehead. "Who would hire him to teach? Trying to turn all of Hogwarts into maniacs?"
After muttering complaints, Slughorn sighed and patted Hoffa on the shoulder. "Come in quickly, child, before you catch a cold. I'll fetch it for you."
Slughorn ushered Hoffa into his warm, luxurious office. The crackling fireplace and cozy decor were far removed from the chilly aesthetic of Slytherin.
"You're clever—very clever," Slughorn said as he rummaged through his storage. "Thinking of using gillyweed shows you've put effort into Potions. You must've gotten the idea from one of my lectures, right? Certainly, you did!"
As Slughorn searched, Hoffa noticed a figure lying on a nearby sofa. To his surprise, it was Tom Riddle, fast asleep.
Slughorn, his back turned, said loudly, "I just brought him back from the hospital wing. Poor boy has been unwell lately, sleeping excessively. He can't join the magical creatures class like you."
"Hmm," Hoffa replied absentmindedly, his attention fixed on Riddle.
Even in a deep sleep, Riddle's presence was unsettling. Hoffa could hear faint whispers emanating from him, too indistinct to make out but clearly there. It sounded like two voices murmuring in secret.
Hoffa wanted to lean closer to confirm if it was his imagination, but footsteps behind him made him straighten up.
Slughorn handed Hoffa a bottle, its contents green and liquid, rather than the seaweed-like plant he had expected.
"This isn't gillyweed," Hoffa remarked.
"I'm the Potions professor, child! If you want gillyweed, ask the Herbology teacher!" Slughorn chuckled, pointing at Hoffa with his stubby finger. "This is merfolk potion—aged ten years, extremely potent. Be cautious with the dosage. It's far better than gillyweed."
Hoffa didn't care what it was as long as it helped him swim. He thanked Slughorn and turned to leave.
Just as he reached the door, Slughorn called out.
"Wait, child."
"What is it, Professor?" Hoffa turned back, curious.
Slughorn hesitated, his expression serious as he stepped closer, the scent of tobacco strong in the air.
"Listen, Bach. I shouldn't say this, but…"
After a pause, the plump professor lowered his voice.
"Fatir DeLacresse was once a teacher of the dark wizard Grindelwald. Be careful not to fall under his influence."
(End of Chapter)
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