Adbe Gorshak's words made Hoffa feel a little better, but recovering from such a crushing defeat would not be easy.
In the school corridors, Hoffa drifted about numbly like a lost soul. He let his feet carry him, habitually making his way toward Ravenclaw Tower.
He walked in a daze the entire way. He did not know how he had answered the great eagle's questions, nor exactly how he had returned to Ravenclaw Tower. Once back in the common room, he merely stared blankly at the flickering fire.
This was the first time in his life that he had actively set out to accomplish something. He had seemingly succeeded, stopping the destruction of the teleportation array.
Yet at the same time, he had failed utterly.
All along the way, he kept thinking about what Miller, that dark personality, had said to him.
For the past six months, he had lived beneath the shadow of World War II. He had lived in fear of war, in the unease of having no sense of security.
He had never spoken honestly with anyone, nor had he considered finding friends he could truly open up to, like Harry did. He had genuinely believed there was no need.
But he did not live in a vacuum. He lived in the present. Inevitably, he affected others, and was affected by them in turn—perhaps even shaken by them.
Hoffa took a deep breath, sat before the common room fireplace, and buried his face in his hands.
At that moment, his heart was a tangled mess.
He began to envy the single-minded protagonists of Japanese anime, the decisive, ruthless protagonists of web novels. He even began to envy Tom Riddle.
Perhaps they could not be influenced by anything. It was as though they had been born into this