At the sight of the bouquet in the headmaster's hand, Hoffa froze as though struck by lightning.
Memories exploded into his mind, flooding in all at once. He thought of that lightning-fast moment on the Quidditch pitch. He thought of the strange club with only one member, and three months ago, the masked figure slowly replacing flowers in the club's secret chamber, with masked oil paintings covering every wall.
Is there really only you in the club?
If one person can do the work of ten, then the other nine are meaningless.
Wow, you really did do the work of ten people all by yourself!
Hoffa gritted his teeth.
Damn it!
What was that person's relationship with Headmaster Dippet?
Could the destruction of the teleportation array have been planned by the headmaster himself?
How could that be? It made no sense.
What was the reason?
What was the cause?
There was no logic to it at all. Watching the headmaster walk farther and farther away with that bouquet of violets, Hoffa gritted his teeth and forcibly suppressed the urge to follow.
He couldn't. The man could see through ordinary stealth.
And Ghostwalk could only be used three times, each lasting only ten seconds. If he followed, the headmaster would most likely discover him.
Instead of advancing, Hoffa retreated and watched from afar.
Only after Headmaster Amando Dippet opened the passage to the Violet Chamber and disappeared inside did Hoffa slowly follow.
The woman in the portrait still had not returned. The entire painting was blank and empty.
Hoffa had no idea how Dippet had entered.
But he couldn't stop imagining what Dippet was doing inside the chamber.
Was he, like that masked figure, replacing the wilted flowers in those vases?
Why exactly was he doing this?
And who had brought