The Strange Society

After returning to school and hiding away his Transfiguration book, Hoffa headed straight for the school's student organization classrooms.

Yinduo had not been wrong. At Hogwarts, there were many student organizations similar to clubs. For example, Harry Potter of later years had founded D.A.—Dumbledore's Army—a Defense Against the Dark Arts club that studied in the Room of Requirement.

Of course, they had only set their club in the Room of Requirement out of necessity. Hogwarts had been under intense pressure from the British Ministry of Magic at the time, and they had needed to avoid Dolores Umbridge's many informants.

But Hogwarts in this era clearly had no such problems. Clubs were flourishing. Hoffa casually stopped an older student on the way and asked, and the student told him where the school registered student organizations.

In Western society, education was, to a great extent, geared toward interests and hobbies—in other words, nurturing talent.

From elementary school onward, there were generally all kinds of clubs to develop students' various gifts.

Of course, because of his previous life's values and lifestyle, Hoffa had never experienced clubs of any kind. His high school had not had any; everyone had been afraid they would interfere with studying.

By the time he went to university, most of the clubs there were just fronts. They were places where upperclassmen picked up innocent younger girls, not places that genuinely cultivated anyone's interests.

So clubs really were something new to Hoffa.

Hogwarts's club registration office was behind a huge painting on the second floor. The painting depicted more than a hundred ancient Greek philosophers, who were noisily arguing without end inside it.

There was no need for a password to enter the painting, since students constantly went in and out.

Passing through the gray stone corridor behind the painting, Hoffa arrived in a great hall surrounded by arched corridors. The intricately carved patterns on the corridors periodically turned into strings of magical symbols, faintly glimmering along the walls. In the center of the hall stood statues of young wizards holding wands, all of them looking high-spirited and ambitious.

Many paintings hung on the walls, depicting outstanding students from different generations. The portraits were all advertising and recruiting new members for their respective clubs.

Quite a few students walked about here, most of them first-years around Hoffa's age.

After looking around for a while, Hoffa spotted a desk in the corner of the hall specifically for registration inquiries. A delicate-looking girl sat behind it. She wore school robes and looked to be around sixth year. She was swiftly writing something down with a quill, her movements highly efficient.

Hoffa walked over. The girl looked up and gave him a professional smile.

"Hello. How can I help you?"

"I wanted to ask if there are any clubs where one can learn spells?" Hoffa asked politely.

"There are seventeen spell clubs in the school. Which one would you like to join?"

As she spoke, the girl pulled out a stack of parchment.

"Uh..." Hoffa froze for a moment. Yinduo had only told him that there were spell clubs that could teach him magic, but had not said which one. He had never expected there to be seventeen clubs just for learning spells.

Seeing that Hoffa said nothing, the girl asked again.

"Do you have an invitation? Some clubs require an invitation to join."

"No," Hoffa said honestly.

"Hm. There are only three that do not require invitations. Still, I think you should choose for yourself."

With that, she handed Hoffa a stack of parchment.

Hoffa took one look and saw a long list of all sorts of club names.

Telastrag Spell Society

Horn Society

All Things Codex Society

Crepytia Society

Omaheni Brotherhood

Northern Ireland Magic Club

Northumberland Group

These clubs not only listed their founding dates and founders, but also their respective requirements. Many were extremely strict about applicants, with requirements concerning region, family, and even bloodline.

Hoffa studied them for a long time, but had no idea which one Yinduo had meant when he said joining would allow him to learn magic.

So he asked the older girl in front of him, "Um, which one here teaches any spell once you join? Any spell at all."

"Any spell?" The older girl frowned.

"I've never heard of any club boasting that it can teach any spell. Besides, when first-years join a club, they usually focus on learning its rules. No one would casually teach spells."

Hoffa was stunned. This was not what Yinduo had said.

He absently flipped through the parchment in his hands, pondering the matter.

Suddenly, his finger stopped on the final page.

This page listed a club called the Violet Wizard Society.

Violet Wizard Society

None but the wise, rigorous, and steadfast may join.

None but those who strictly keep secrets may join.

A line of small print at the bottom of the parchment read: (Recruitment full.)

But what caught Hoffa's attention was not the club's name or its requirements. It was a small drawing on the parchment.

It depicted a man wearing a strange pale mask. The mask covered his entire face, making his features impossible to see. Yet on his ear was an earring exactly identical to Hoffa's own.

Hoffa immediately knew which club he needed to join.

He said to the girl in front of him, "This one. I want to join this club."

The older girl took the parchment and stared wide-eyed. "The Violet Society... But this club is full. Didn't you see that?"

"Tell me where it is. I'll pay them a visit myself," Hoffa insisted. His determination to obtain the Disillusionment Charm was absolute. A few obstacles would not shake him.

"Fine." The girl did not refuse. She pulled a stack of small cards from beneath the desk, selected one, and handed it to Hoffa.

"Here. Just follow the arrow. But whether they let you in or not is beyond me."

Hoffa took the card and looked at it. A section of the towers had been hand-drawn on its surface, with a tiny trembling arrow in the center. That was where he was standing.

After thanking the older student, Hoffa followed the card's directions to the area where the school's clubs were concentrated.

Hogwarts had a designated area specifically for most student clubs.

Compared with the bustle of the great hall, the club area was remarkably quiet.

It was a tall spire with a transparent glass ceiling. A brilliant white beam rose from the floor, connecting the top and bottom of the tower. Its shape was strange, like the core of some kind of magical array.

Several strange instruments revolved slowly around the white light, occasionally emitting a pleasant chime.

Many oil paintings were spread throughout the tower, but the figures in these paintings were all occupied with their own business and were unusually silent.

Every now and then, someone bent over a desk in a painting would look up at Hoffa before lowering their head again and ignoring him.

He also saw several wizard students along the way. They stood before paintings, fell silent when they saw him approaching, and only spoke their passwords after he had gone, vanishing behind the paintings.

There was no need to say it aloud. Hoffa knew that a different student group was hidden behind every painting here.

It left Hoffa with a sense of awe. So many unknown Chambers of Secrets, so many wizard groups, so many ancient mysteries.

If he had to explore everything to gain the knowledge of a great wizard, who knew how long it would take him to explore this school?

Holding the card, Hoffa slowly walked along the tower stairs.

The farther he went, the more secluded it became.

At last, he stopped before a huge portrait of a woman. It showed a masked witch holding a bouquet of violets.

This place was already extremely remote. There were barely any paintings nearby. When the woman in the painting caught sight of Hoffa, she seemed to sense his purpose.

"What is it?" the woman in the painting asked calmly.

"Could you please inform them that I would like to apply to join?" Hoffa said politely.

The woman in the painting set down her bouquet, rose to her feet, and slowly vanished into a passage within the painting. Before long, she returned.

Another person returned with her. It was a student wearing a pale mask. She was small and slight, and her appearance was impossible to make out. The two of them walked together within the painting.

After the slight student came before Hoffa and examined him, she actually climbed straight out of the portrait, startling Hoffa badly. He had thought she was someone painted into it.

"What are you here for?" the masked person asked. The voice was female, and she did not sound very old.

Still shaken, Hoffa studied her carefully. He felt that she might have been subjected to some profound magic.

She felt almost transparent. Though she stood right before him, she also seemed very far away—blurred and indistinct, as though she would disappear the moment he turned his head.

Hoffa asked respectfully, "May I ask if it is still possible to join the club?"

"You want to join?" The masked person tilted her head. "Didn't the student council tell you that the club is full?" Her voice was equally ethereal, with no real substance to it.

"They did, but I still wanted to try."

The masked girl said, "Then what is your purpose? State your purpose."

Hoffa raised his head and looked directly into the eyes beneath the mask.

"I want a spell. I heard that if I join your club, I can obtain any spell."

The masked person shook her head, then nodded again.

She gave a strangely soft laugh. "That is quite an honest answer. Interesting. I wonder who told you that. Still, joining the Violet Wizard Society is not impossible, but I must first give you a small test."

"What test?"

"Recite the membership requirements to me. I assume you saw them at the student council."

Hoffa replied, "None but the wise, rigorous, and steadfast may join. None but those who strictly keep secrets may join."

"Very good. You have a good memory."

The masked girl stepped closer and circled halfway around Hoffa.

"Tell me, are you truly such a person?"

Hoffa thought for a moment. "I would not call myself wise. I do not know whether I am rigorous or steadfast, but as for the second condition, keeping secrets, I believe I can do that."

"You are rather modest. Come with me."

With her hands behind her back, she walked into the painting and vanished inside it.

Hoffa followed her through the painting as though passing through a layer of gauze. But he knew it was the effect of some sort of magic. Had the masked girl not led him in, he certainly would not have been able to pass this barrier.

Once inside, Hoffa found the place extremely dim.

A stone staircase beneath his feet led underground, with strange marks carved into the floor. Braziers burned at intervals around him.

Descending the stairs, Hoffa arrived in a square underground hall.

The hall was a perfect square. A raised stone platform stood in the middle, beside which glass cases were neatly stacked. There was only one cushion on the floor.

Clean, plain, yet inexplicably strange.

That was Hoffa's first impression of the club.

After bringing Hoffa in, the masked girl ignored him. Instead, she picked up a bouquet of violets from the stone platform and walked beneath a row of paintings.

Every person in these paintings wore a mask, masks of all kinds. But unlike the paintings outside, they were not alive. They resembled Muggle works, hanging motionlessly on the walls. Thick dust covered the glass over their surfaces.

A transparent vase stood beneath every painting.

Some vases held fresh violets, while the flowers in others had dried up, as though they had not been changed in over a decade.

Holding the violets, the masked girl removed the old dried flowers and replaced them with fresh ones.

Her every posture and movement was extraordinarily slow, solemn, and mysterious.

For some reason, Hoffa felt that this place was less like a club classroom and more like a tomb.

The atmosphere was too strange. There was not a single person around. It felt deathly still, and the braziers could not give him even a trace of warmth.

Hoffa shivered unconsciously and looked around, trying to find someone else. But no matter how he looked, there was no one else in the underground hall—only the masked girl slowly replacing flowers in the vases.

Finally, after she had finished replacing them.

The masked girl came to the stone platform and pointed to the only cushion on the floor.

"Sit."

"Where are the others?" Hoffa asked after sitting down, looking around.

"I am the only one in the club," the masked girl said in her ethereal voice.

Hoffa was stunned.

"You said your club was full!"

"If one person can do the work of ten, then the other nine have no reason to exist." The masked girl tucked her hands into her sleeves and stood behind Hoffa.

"But you are lucky. I happened to be looking to recruit an underling to help organize the club, and then you came along."

"Then you will teach me spells?" Hoffa asked doubtfully. For some reason, he had a bad feeling.

"If you pass the real assessment, I do not mind."

The masked girl walked to the stone platform, drew her wand, and tapped the pile of glass cases beside it. The cases slowly opened, and she took out a scroll from within one of them.

Hoffa frowned slightly.

"What is your test?"

"Very simple. The Violet Wizard Society is an organization devoted to spell studies, so naturally it has an obligation to help the school's students learn spells."

She placed the scroll in front of Hoffa.

"I do not know who told you that our club can teach spells, but you clearly have some misunderstanding about us. Our test is to have students learn any spell within a short time. Only if they learn it will they pass the test."

"And if I cannot learn it?"

The masked person spread open the scroll.

"You bear the consequences yourself. Go on."

Hoffa looked at the scroll in front of him, only to discover that there was nothing on it except flowing white light.

"This..." Hoffa looked up, just about to ask a question.

Suddenly, white light burst from the scroll. Hoffa's whole body twisted, as though twenty Dementors inside the scroll were tearing at his soul, leaving him unable even to breathe.

A few seconds later, the white light faded.

Hoffa instantly collapsed onto the table and lost consciousness.

The expression on the masked girl's face could not be seen. She bent down and gathered up the scroll from the stone platform, then took a tiny white hourglass from her sleeve and placed it beside Hoffa.

Tilting her head slightly, she looked at Hoffa's vacant eyes and said coldly:

"A friendly reminder: in the Book of Spells, only a pure purpose is the sole truth."