18, Forgetful

What was a problem girl? Hoffa felt that no one fit those four words better than this girl. He had finally figured it out: this little bitch was determined to oppose him. Anything that could make him unhappy, she had to try it all.

She had become the most hateful person Hoffa had encountered across both his lives!

Even Tom Riddle was more lovable than her. At least Voldemort had kept an incredibly low profile!

Walking into an empty washroom, Hoffa turned on the tap and splashed water on his face, but even the cold water could not calm him down.

He had thought his mentality was very mature, that he could keep his emotions hidden. But after all these days, he realized his state of mind was nearing the breaking point.

Finally, he kicked the tiles in frustration and cursed, "Petty! Vain! Are you insane? How can there be someone as boring as you in this world?"

Just as Hoffa was fuming...

Thud.

The sound of books falling came from the doorway. Hoffa immediately turned around.

Miranda stood at the washroom door, so startled that she had dropped her books.

Hoffa immediately realized he had lost his composure. With his goal still nowhere in sight, his patience had been worn down without him noticing, and he had actually begun raging helplessly. A true wizard would not act like this.

As she picked up her books, Miranda muttered, "I saw you leaving in such a hurry, so I followed you to take a look..."

"It's nothing," Hoffa said. "I was just so angry I got muddled."

"What's wrong with you today? Why do you seem so strange?" Miranda asked after gathering her books.

"I'm strange? Am I as strange as that white-haired freak..." Hoffa sneered.

"Of course. Usually, I've never seen you seriously fix your hair. You looked so casual even at the opening feast, so why are you suddenly acting so eager today?" Miranda asked.

Hoffa fell silent.

Seeing that he would not answer, Miranda comforted him. "Actually, Argeleia isn't that hard to get along with. She just likes being in the spotlight. You could only say she's the most Ravenclaw Ravenclaw there is."

"Tch. Since when did Ravenclaw become an adjective?" With that, Hoffa walked out of the washroom.

Miranda followed behind him and asked, "What do you think Ravenclaw is? I'd say that if Argeleia were placed in any other House, she would be unpopular. But Ravenclaw students have their own way of getting along. Maybe you could try seeing her from another perspective."

Hoffa gave a mocking chuckle. "Hmph. As long as she doesn't get in my way, she can do whatever she wants. Even if she wins a Nobel Prize this year, it has nothing to do with me."

"What's a Nobel Prize?"

"Forget it." Hoffa waved a hand irritably. "Don't you think someone like that is annoying?"

"No, she hasn't... Wait."

Miranda abruptly stopped.

"You said she got in your way. Did she interfere with you today?"

"Of course..." Hoffa had just been about to tell the truth when he shut his mouth in time. Ravenclaws were all sharp-minded people. He did not want anyone to see how badly he wanted that forbidden book.

But Miranda had already seen through him. She pushed up her glasses and smiled knowingly.

"You fixed up your appearance, then actively answered questions. Were you trying to leave a good impression on Slughorn?"

Hoffa quickly put some distance between himself and Miranda. He increasingly felt that Miranda did not seem like a girl at all.

Miranda caught up with him. "Oh, oh, so you're not without desires after all. What do you want? To join his Slug Club, or get a few bottles of potions from him?"

"Neither." Hoffa stopped in annoyance.

"Then what do you want? Tell me."

Hoffa hesitated. Her status as the vice-headmaster's granddaughter made him wary.

"Could you be trying to attract some girl's attention?"

Miranda actually started gossiping. Though he knew she might be trying to provoke him, Hoffa gritted his teeth in irritation. Were British kids all this precocious?

"Or could it be that the person you like is Argeleia...?"

Goosebumps rose all over Hoffa's body. He raised his book angrily, making as if to hit her.

"Enough, shut up. Can you stop being disgusting? I want Slughorn's autograph so I can use it to borrow a book from the library. Are you satisfied with that answer?"

"That's it?" Miranda asked in surprise.

"What else? If the librarian weren't so strict, why would you think I went to all the trouble of currying favor with the head of Slytherin House?"

"Oh, you should've said so." Miranda covered her forehead. "Something this simple can be obtained easily. Why did you have to compete with Argeleia for attention?"

"Huh? You have a way?"

Joy appeared on Hoffa's face. "You mean you can get your grandfather to make an exception for me?"

"Don't even think about it. That guy Adbe would never do something so kind."

Hoffa said, "Then why the hell did you bring it up?"

"He won't, but I will." Miranda giggled. "We can play a little trick..."

Hoffa was very curious about what she planned to do, but Miranda did not tell him. She only told him to cooperate when the time came and keep it secret.

Soon, it was another Monday.

It was a dark, rainy day. Rain pattered against the castle windows, making everything inside and outside the castle look gray and dim.

That morning, in the Charms classroom.

Adbe Gorshak entered the classroom as usual, precisely on the second hand.

Standing before the lectern, his gray eyes swept across the room as he asked in a low voice, "Why is someone absent again?"

Without even looking, Hoffa knew Miranda had skipped class again.

But this time, before Professor Gorshak could deduct points, an arm rose into the air.

It was Argeleia, Miranda's dormmate.

Professor Gorshak asked, "What is it?"

Argeleia said, "Professor, here is Miranda's note. She ate something bad and upset her stomach."

With that, she pulled a sheet of paper from her desk and handed it over.

Gorshak took it and glanced over it. Hoffa saw a rare flicker of disappointment on his usually impassive face. That expression made Hoffa sympathize with the old man a little. If I were Professor Gorshak, I'd be furious.

His own granddaughter gave him so little face, repeatedly refusing to attend his classes, and he could not really do anything to her. Where did that leave his authority?

But the elderly Professor Gorshak quickly put away that trace of disappointment. He briskly signed his name with a few strokes, then handed the note back to Argeleia.

No points were deducted, and the Ravenclaw students breathed a sigh of relief.

Gorshak said, "Last class, we discussed the syllables and movements of basic charms. Today, we will practice casting spells. The first spell we will learn is the Copying Charm. The Copying Charm is mostly used on physical objects, but it can also be extended to nonphysical carriers such as the mind and memories. It is not a basic spell, but it is quite profound..."

Once class began, the solemn, tense atmosphere eased.

From this lesson onward, they would officially begin learning how to use spells. Although Hoffa had basically mastered all the first-year spells, and had already learned most of the Copying Charm from an introductory spellbook, he still listened very attentively.

Thanks to his above-average mental strength, Hoffa was just as skilled in Charms as he was in Transfiguration.

In the end, he successfully copied one small iron ball into two, then copied the two iron balls into four. His practiced technique earned Gorshak's praise, and he awarded Ravenclaw ten points.

Though he was nowhere near as generous as Dumbledore, it was enough to provoke Argeleia's anger. The iron ball she copied was visibly smaller than the original, not an exact duplicate. Of course, that was already quite good among ordinary students, but it was still no match for Hoffa.

Hoffa ignored her frustration. He had already reflected on himself and resolved not to get angry over this person anymore. He regarded her as an obstacle on the path to strengthening his character, a trial of the will of the universe.

But after class, just as he reached the staircase at the fourth-floor corner, he saw Argeleia standing beneath the statue of Gray the Flatterer with her arms crossed, staring coldly at him.

Hoffa assumed she was unhappy again because he had earned points for the House. He ignored her and walked straight past.

"Stop!"

Argeleia called out coldly to Hoffa.

Hoffa turned around reluctantly. "What?"

"What is your relationship with Miranda?" Argeleia asked.

Hoffa said coolly, "What are you trying to say?"

"Why did she ask me to leave this thing for you?"

As she spoke, Argeleia raised her hand. A slip of paper was pinched between her fingers.

Hoffa sneered. "I don't know what you're talking about, but whatever Miranda wants to leave me has nothing to do with you, does it?"

Disgust immediately appeared in Argeleia's eyes. "You think too highly of yourself. I can't be bothered with your business."

She flicked her fingers and threw away the slip of paper, as though it had something dirty on it, then turned and left without looking back.

Hoffa's mental fortitude +1.

He lazily drew his wand and cast a Levitation Charm, bringing the slip of paper back into his hand.

He picked it up and opened it. It was Miranda's excuse note.

[I ate something bad and upset my stomach. I am being treated in the school hospital. Please grant me leave for the morning. Miranda Gorshak.]

Below it was Adbe Gorshak's signature.

Hoffa held the note in confusion. Just as he wondered what it was for, the letters on the paper suddenly changed.

They rapidly rearranged themselves.

They became:

[Permission to enter the library and borrow any one book, with no time limit.]

Adbe Gorshak

Hoffa's mouth fell open. Miranda had promised to help him obtain a note for borrowing books from the library. But he had not expected her to use this method—pretending to have diarrhea to trick Adbe into signing it. She had not only fooled Gorshak, but even that bastard Argeleia as well.

After his surprise, Hoffa's spirits rose considerably. This was what it felt like when luck turned in one's favor.

Basic objective achieved!

As long as he could get that Transfiguration book, he might be able to become an Animagus. If he succeeded, that would be equivalent to gaining the ability to sneak around.

Invisibility and being an Animagus each had their own advantages. Invisibility could completely conceal one's appearance. But after transforming into a small creature, he could go to many places humans could not. Best of all, once an Animagus took on a smaller form, even their footsteps became silent.

Hoffa wanted to thank Miranda properly, but she still did not appear in Dumbledore's class.

That made him wonder. Was the girl really sick?

After Transfiguration class ended, Hoffa raced to the library with the signed note.

When he reached the place where Morgan's Anatomy of All Things, Structure Is King was kept, he was just about to pull out the book when the old librarian popped out. Holding a feather duster, he snarled fiercely, "Hey! You again!"

A slip of paper was thrust beneath his nose, interrupting the old man.

"Cut the crap and give me the book!" Hoffa said.

The old man snatched the note away and read it twice. He forcibly swallowed the curse that had been about to leave his mouth, and his wrinkled face became deeply sullen and confused.

Rules were rules. There was no room for him to argue. He could only pull out the book and lend it to Hoffa reluctantly.

After getting the book, Hoffa ran his fingers over the rough cover of the thick volume, and his mood brightened. But he did not begin reading it immediately. He decided to wait until no one was around before studying it.

That evening, the ceiling of the Great Hall was full of drizzling rain, no different from outside.

Only then did Hoffa see Miranda, whom he had not seen all day, at the dining table. She was eating a potato pie with an empty look in her eyes.

Hoffa waved a hand in front of her. "Hey!"

Miranda slowly turned her head. Strangely, she was not wearing her glasses. Her face was pale and gloomy, and she looked weak and sickly.

"Did you really have diarrhea?" Hoffa asked with concern.

Miranda looked Hoffa up and down, gave a noncommittal hum through her nose, then lowered her head and continued eating her potato pie, looking cold and unwilling to speak to him.

"Poor thing," Hoffa muttered. He took a potato pie as well and said quietly to Miranda, "Thank you so much. I borrowed the book."

Miranda stopped chewing and thought for a moment.

"What?"

"The book." Hoffa said happily. "I borrowed it from the library."

"What does that have to do with me?" Miranda interrupted expressionlessly. She turned away and continued eating her potato pie.

Hoffa's mouth fell open. He was completely baffled. What did it have to do with her? Could he have borrowed it without her help? Why had this normally good-tempered girl suddenly become like a different person?

He thought perhaps Miranda was on her period and in a bad mood. But then Hoffa thought he must be crazy. This girl was only eleven, not even developed yet—a standard little loli. Where would she get a period...