An Annoying Girl

The reward had come so simply and quickly that Hoffa was caught off guard. He wanted nothing more than to immediately try practicing the Great Master's meditation method, but he couldn't. The train let out a long whistle. It was about to depart.

As he climbed into the carriage, countless young wizards waved goodbye to their parents through the windows. Some children were even shedding tears, while the older ones ran around and roughhoused in the compartments, having the time of their lives.

Hoffa had no parents, nor did he have any friends greeting him.

Following the usual routine of other transmigrators, Hoffa should have gone looking for the Golden Trio and latched onto the Savior's thigh as soon as possible. But this era had completely dashed any thought of finding the Golden Trio...

Honestly, Hoffa didn't care about the Golden Trio, Harry, or Ron at all. The only person he wanted to find was Hermione.

Heaven have mercy, whenever he thought about coming to the world of HP only to be unable to see Hermione—and that by the time he could see her, he would probably be old enough for his teeth to start falling out—Hoffa wanted to lie down on the tracks like a useless slob and let the Hogwarts Express run him over.

"I was not born when you were; when I was born, you had already grown old. How I regret we were not born in the same age, so I could be with you every day..."

Muttering in Chinese, filled with resentment at being unable to meet his goddess, Hoffa felt utterly dead inside. All he wanted now was a quiet place where no one would disturb him so he could try out his newly acquired meditation method.

The train was large, but there were many people as well. Hoffa searched for quite some time before finding an empty compartment near the rear of the train.

By then, the train had already started moving.

The steam engine belched a plume of black smoke and sounded its whistle as it began chugging forward.

After setting down his luggage, Hoffa sat down comfortably and wiped the rainwater from his face.

He sat cross-legged on the seat and looked out the window.

The train soon left London and entered fields dotted with cattle and sheep, with the occasional bare gray boulder along the way.

Before long, the train entered the lush green Scottish Highlands.

The endless highlands had neither the boundless forests of Northern Europe nor the desolate barrenness of a wasteland. Instead, they were covered in gently rolling low grass and moss. That short, sparse vegetation grew with a bleak beauty. The exposed rocks and crisp air constantly reminded him that this was a plateau on an island.

Milarepa's meditation method told Hoffa that he should constantly feel nature, feel its simplicity and harmony.

So he closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Following a certain pattern, he slowly began regulating his breathing.

The Great Master's knowledge was indeed extraordinary. The moment he began meditating, Hoffa felt his mind become clear and empty, his thoughts gradually sharpening, while many physical desires slowly drifted away from him.

However, Hoffa had completed fewer than three cycles of meditation.

Click.

The compartment's sliding door was pushed open.

His meditation interrupted, Hoffa opened his eyes unhappily and looked over.

What a small world.

A silver-haired little girl carrying a bag stood in the doorway, staring coldly at Hoffa.

She wore a round hat, and a white owl perched on her shoulder.

It was the arrogant girl he had knocked over earlier, then teased.

The girl showed no intention of greeting Hoffa or speaking to him. She plopped down opposite him, tossed her bag aside, removed her hat, crossed her legs, and stared at him coldly.

The owl on her shoulder was just like its master, glaring fiercely at Hoffa with huge round eyes as if it wanted to devour him.

Hoffa hadn't expected the little girl to come after him, looking as though she had come to demand an explanation. He really wanted to call her a lunatic.

But he couldn't. One had to be modest upon arriving somewhere new; that was a traditional Chinese virtue.

Seeking peace, Hoffa nodded at her.

"Hello."

The girl revealed a mocking smile. "What a hypocrite. You're cursing me in your heart, yet on the surface you put on an act like you want to coexist peacefully. Since when did Hogwarts stop judging students by their true nature?"

"You...!"

Hoffa's words caught in his throat. He hadn't expected her gaze to be so sharp, much less for someone so young to have such a venomous tongue.

He had been ready to snap back at her, but the words reached his lips and he mocked himself for being too childish. Why argue with a little girl? Had his mind become younger along with his body?

So Hoffa shut up.

Yes, he not only shut his mouth but also closed his eyes, resuming the meditation method of Milarepa the Wanderer.

When the girl saw that he had actually closed his eyes and ignored her, anger surged from her belly. Narrowing her eyes, she asked dangerously, "What's your name?"

Meditating, Hoffa gave a soft snort through his nose to show that he had no desire to answer.

The girl gave a cold chuckle. "You think I won't know just because you won't tell me? Do you believe I can figure out your identity right now?"

Hoffa thought she was absurdly arrogant. He sneered, "Be my guest."

The girl said, "You're wearing earrings made by the goblins of Germany's Heligoland, yet you've come to Hogwarts. The British Ministry of Magic doesn't admit students from outside the British Isles, so you must be descended from some immigrant family. But based on the timeline, after 1918 the Ministry enacted a policy banning immigrant wizards, so your family must have come before 1918..."

(One minute later.)

"...Historically, there were five pure-blood immigrant families in the British Isles: Rioster, Briat, Malfoy, Delacys; and twelve half-blood immigrant families: Baird, Kupa, Byron, Davis, Ian, Gorshak..."

(One minute later.)

"...Most immigrant families have already vanished into history, narrowing the surviving families down by half. Given your age, you're either a first-year or second-year, and among those surviving immigrant families, the ones with eleven- or twelve-year-old boys narrow it down to a third. They are Delacys, Byron, Baird, and Gorshak."

But there was only one family from Heligoland: the Gorshak family. And the Gorshak family had only one new student enrolling this year—Miller Gorshak.

The girl went on and on in her seat, speaking for three straight minutes before finally stopping.

She folded her arms and looked at Hoffa proudly. The owl on her shoulder did the same.

Hoffa sighed lightly and opened his eyes with a trace of sympathy. "You know so much, so why didn't you even know how to get into King's Cross Station?"

The girl raised her chin, her arrogance beyond measure.

"Because life would be too boring without challenges. After receiving my acceptance letter, I cut off every source of information. I wanted to find the station myself! Hmph, even without your help, I still got in, Miller."

Hoffa spread his hands and smiled faintly. "Yeah."

Then he closed his eyes again to rest.

Hoffa had already confirmed her personality. She was both arrogant and self-centered, and he didn't like girls like that. No matter how beautiful she was, he wouldn't like her. In fact, he even found her a little annoying.

After showing off with that long speech, the girl was no longer as angry as when she had first entered. She asked curiously, "Hey, Miller, which House do you want to join?"

Hoffa didn't want to pay attention to her, and besides, his name wasn't fucking Miller.

But he had actually thought about her question for many days, and the answer was that even he didn't know which House he would enter.

For Hoffa, the best outcome would be Gryffindor. After all, that House was blessed with protagonist luck, and Dumbledore had been a Gryffindor.

But since Hermione didn't exist yet, Hoffa didn't particularly care whether he joined Gryffindor. He already knew Gryffindor very well from his previous life, and he wanted to explore the other Houses too.

To be honest, Hoffa thought all four Houses were pretty good. He wouldn't even mind entering Slytherin. He had heard their common room was beneath the Black Lake. Just thinking about it felt awesome.

Out of politeness, Hoffa answered her blandly, "Gryffindor, I suppose."

"Gryffindor? Hmph."

As though she had heard something hilarious, the girl shook her head from side to side. The owl on her shoulder shook its head along with her in a remarkably humanlike manner.

"Those arrogant fools who think they're the chosen ones, when in fact their heads are completely empty. All they know is how to wave wands around like brainless brutes. I never thought you'd like that sort of House. How pathetic."

Hoffa was utterly speechless. Was it really okay to describe the protagonist's House so terribly? And she had the nerve to criticize others with that judgmental tone, yet call them arrogant and self-important. The girl opposite him was probably a Slytherin through and through.

Hoffa asked, "Then what about Slytherin?"

He thought that after tearing into Gryffindor, she would probably praise Slytherin. Unexpectedly, she flicked her hair and sneered.

The girl said, "Those idiots who would love nothing more than to put their family trees on altars and worship them. They have ambition but no humility, and they will stop at nothing to achieve their goals. Even if people like that succeed, they're destined to be despised. That is true ignorance."

Hoffa's eyes widened. "Then... Hufflepuff?"

The girl smiled and was just about to speak when a loud clattering commotion came from outside the door.

A gentle-looking woman in an apron pushed open the compartment door.

"Hey, would you like to buy something to eat? I've got lots of delicious treats."

Hoffa jolted and leaped to his feet. He immediately forgot the arrogant girl beside him. Train snacks. Now that he had come to the world of HP, how could he not eat train snacks?

The woman's little trolley was filled with all sorts of food that looked incredibly delicious.

Chocolate Frogs, pumpkin pasties, cauldron cakes, licorice wands. Hoffa wasn't short of money for the moment, so like Harry, he bought a bit of everything without missing a single item. Then he returned to his seat completely satisfied.

The gentle attendant was just about to leave.

The silver-haired girl suddenly called out to her.

"Wait, did you graduate from Hufflepuff?"

The attendant turned around in surprise, then smiled delightedly. "Oh my, how could you tell?"

The girl shrugged. "Nothing. I was just asking. Go on with your work."

The attendant smiled. "All right. Call me if you need anything."

After the female attendant left, Hoffa became interested too. He handed the girl a Chocolate Frog and asked curiously, "How did you tell?"

A trace of sharp mockery appeared on the girl's beautiful face.

"Because only Hufflepuff graduates would do such lowly work."