Chapter 16: The Mysterious Book  

Hoffa headed back. Since he wasn't attending the Quidditch class, he had plenty of time. He decided to visit the library to look for some books. With a bit of luck, he might even find something about the Disillusionment Charm. 

To truly succeed and pursue freedom and happiness in the magical world, strength was essential. 

The fastest way to gain strength was to develop his system. 

But for now, the only magical location Hoffa could explore was Hogwarts. Therefore, finding a way to cast the Disillusionment Charm was his top priority. 

To return to the castle's library, he had to cross the school's grounds. The grounds were a vast green lawn stretching for kilometers, like a lush carpet. The breeze rustled the grass, creating a soothing sound. 

Halfway through, Hoffa suddenly noticed many magical runes on the ground. These runes were neatly arranged and emitted a faint blue glow. 

It seemed like some kind of functional magic circle. 

A magic circle on the grass? 

Hoffa was curious. He walked while observing. 

Suddenly, he saw a group of about a dozen people gathered in the distance. 

From their attire, they appeared to be Hogwarts' older students. 

They seemed to be arguing loudly about something. 

Since Hoffa was taking a shortcut, he passed close to the group. As he approached, he stopped to listen for a moment. 

The voices of the older students grew louder. 

"Can't we get a break?" 

"Who did this?" 

"It's been several days…" 

"Why hasn't the Ministry sent anyone yet?" 

"Headmaster Dippet said he'd handle it personally." 

Hoffa walked behind the older students and peeked over their shoulders. 

Behind them, the neatly arranged rune circle was severely damaged. The grass was torn up, and the ground was covered in deep craters and scratches. 

This was… a teleportation circle! 

Hoffa was shocked. He remembered. 

Headmaster Dippet had mentioned during the opening feast… 

[The Ministry of Magic has set up a special teleportation point on the school grounds. Sixth-year and above students can, with approval, access designated areas for Auror training.] 

The older students continued to argue, their faces filled with worry. Most were concerned about their studies and tasks being disrupted. 

"I don't have enough credits. What am I supposed to do?" 

"I'm worse off than you. If I can't complete this task, I might not graduate this year!" 

"Can't we go to the Ministry using other methods? Why does it have to be the teleportation circle?" 

"No, didn't you hear Headmaster Dippet? 

"Everything must follow the school's arrangements." 

Hoffa listened for a while, then approached a senior student who was standing silently with his arms crossed. He asked softly, "Excuse me, what's going on here?" 

The senior student looked down and saw Hoffa, who only reached his ribcage. 

He immediately bent down and whispered, "What year are you? What are you doing here?" 

"I'm a first-year. I just happened to pass by," Hoffa said. "Isn't this the Ministry's teleportation point?" 

"Yes," the senior student said worriedly. "But someone unknown has damaged the teleportation circle, so we can't teleport for our internships anymore." 

Damaged the teleportation circle…? 

Hoffa was surprised that someone would dare to do such a thing. 

He wanted to ask more, but suddenly, several figures approached from a distance. 

The senior student quickly pushed Hoffa. "Hurry and leave. Professor Goshawk is coming. Don't let him see you here!" 

Hoffa looked and indeed saw a figure in a bronze robe. 

Remembering the man's strictness, Hoffa shivered and quickly left the grounds, taking a detour back to Hogwarts. 

… 

This incident was just a small episode for Hoffa. Whoever damaged the teleportation circle had nothing to do with him. 

After returning to Hogwarts, Hoffa headed straight for the library. His system's exploration progress was stuck at 0.5%. He hadn't even explored 1% of Hogwarts. He needed to learn invisibility or stealth quickly. 

Entering the library, he was greeted by thousands of books, hundreds of narrow aisles, and towering shelves. Some students had to use ladders to reach the higher books. 

There were no first-year students here, only older students researching and writing essays. 

Students like Hermione were rare. 

First-years didn't have much homework, and at their age, they were more interested in playing than studying. Few would come to the library. 

Previously, Hoffa had searched for the Disillusionment Charm in the Charms section, but he had already combed through the beginner areas accessible to lower-year students. 

After another round of searching, Hoffa began to feel disappointed. 

He hadn't found a single book with "invisibility" in its index. 

His recent luck seemed to have run out. If the law of conservation of luck applied, perhaps his talent in Transfiguration had used up all his good fortune. 

Hoffa thought for a while. He definitely needed to explore the school, but he couldn't strictly follow the rules. 

And he absolutely couldn't get caught. 

So, apart from invisibility, were there other methods? 

After some thought, Hoffa suddenly remembered the Marauders—Harry Potter's father and Sirius Black's group. 

They were also rule-breakers, but their ability to do so wasn't just because of the Invisibility Cloak. Another important reason was that they were Animagi. 

Hoffa saw a glimmer of hope. 

Yes, Animagus. If he couldn't become invisible, transforming into a small animal would also allow him to explore the school. 

And wasn't he somewhat talented in Transfiguration? 

Once the idea took root, it was hard to shake off. Plus, Hoffa was now very interested in Transfiguration. 

He left the Charms section and went to the Transfiguration area. 

The Transfiguration books were located next to the Potions section and occupied a large area. 

However, there weren't many books accessible to first-year students. 

Hoffa pulled out a few that caught his interest: *Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration*, *The Conversion of Matter and Magic*, *Fundamentals of Rapid Transfiguration*… 

After reading several, Hoffa found them uninteresting. The content was already covered in the textbooks and wasn't as well-explained as Dumbledore's lessons. 

Only someone like Filch would read these. 

Reluctantly, he continued searching. Some books taught him something, while others didn't. 

As he flipped through the books, Hoffa didn't notice how deep he had gone into the library. Absorbed in his reading, he ventured further and further. 

Suddenly, he heard faint whispers. 

"Look at me." 

"No." 

"Look at me instead." 

"I have the most knowledge." 

"No, no, I have more." 

"But mine is more useful." 

Hoffa looked up sharply but saw no one around. 

All the books were neatly placed on the shelves. 

Yet the whispers continued to argue. 

"Don't listen to him." 

"Don't listen to him." 

"Come, child." 

"I can make you glorious." 

"Glorious?" 

"Is reading books for glory? Fool." 

"Tsk, tsk, tsk." 

"Short-sighted." 

"Knowledge itself is desire." 

"Oh!" 

"Damn it!" 

"All of you, shut up." 

"Let him choose for himself." 

They kept whispering, and Hoffa's eyes widened. 

Were these books… arguing? 

Why could he hear the books? Was this… something every wizard experienced? 

He was puzzled but curious. He walked closer. 

The books' bickering grew louder. They constantly belittled each other while promoting themselves, as if they were all trying to sell themselves. 

Hoffa slowly walked along the shelves. Then, he noticed a thick, old book lying horizontally on the third shelf. 

He instinctively felt a connection to it. 

While the other books were arguing, this one remained silent, exuding an air of confidence. 

So, he pulled out the massive book, which was as thick as his chest. 

"Oh, damn." 

"Good luck." 

"Hmph, another one." 

"Let's go, let's go." 

The moment Hoffa made his choice, the surrounding books grumbled and finally fell silent. 

Hoffa examined the confident book. Its cover was made of an unknown creature's skin, with a peculiar texture and a faint burnt smell. 

The book seemed to have been burned. On the faded silver cover, messy letters read: 

*Dissecting All Things, Structure is King* — Author: Morgan le Fay. 

What a bold claim. Hoffa smirked. 

He opened the book and was immediately drawn in. 

On the pages, a detailed anatomical diagram of a lion was drawn from every angle—its fur, nerves, and even magical energy flow. 

The page read: [The foundation of Transfiguration is understanding. Transfiguring a cat and a lion requires no difference in magical power. The only difference is whether you understand the target. If you want to transfigure a cat, you must understand cats. If you want to transfigure a lion, you must understand lions. The same applies to Animagi…] 

Hoffa's breathing quickened. It seemed the book had directly addressed his thoughts, cutting straight to the point, unlike the other evasive books. 

Without hesitation, Hoffa flipped to the next page. 

The second page depicted a majestic eagle, with every bone and feather meticulously detailed. 

[Through magic, the key challenge is not understanding the target but deeply understanding oneself. Those who cannot dissect themselves cannot become true masters of Transfiguration…] 

Hoffa was deeply moved by the book's words, which resonated like a tolling bell. 

He was about to turn the page when a gray-bearded librarian suddenly appeared and snatched the book from his hands. 

"Hey! Kid, do you have a professor's signature?" 

Hoffa was initially furious, but then he noticed the bright red sign above: [Restricted Section]. 

He realized he had violated school rules. Access to the library's Restricted Section required a professor's signature. 

Seeing Hoffa silent, the librarian crossed his arms. 

"You came to the senior section without a signature? What if the magic in the books backfires? Who's responsible? Me or you? 

"Go, go, go…!" 

He waved a feather duster, shooing Hoffa out of the library. 

Standing at the library's entrance, Hoffa angrily kicked a nearby Roman column. 

He was filled with frustration. 

It seemed his luck had run out. Nothing was going right. 

Being interrupted while engrossed in a book was the worst. If that old man had been a little later, he might have uncovered the secrets of Animagus transformation. 

After some brooding, Hoffa began to think of solutions. 

He had to get that book, but with Hogwarts' strict rules, how could he obtain a professor's signature? 

He recalled how Harry and Hermione had entered the Restricted Section in their second year to get the Polyjuice Potion recipe. 

But they had encountered Lockhart, the fool. Who could Hoffa approach now? 

Dumbledore was out of the question—he was too sharp. Goshawk was even less likely—the strict professor didn't even go easy on his granddaughter. 

With a troubled expression, Hoffa left the library and noticed it was already dark. 

He had spent too much time in the library without realizing it. 

A pang of hunger hit him, and he hurried to the Great Hall. 

He had missed dinner and could only hope there was some food left. 

Unfortunately, when he arrived, the hall was nearly empty, with only a few leftover desserts on the tables. 

Hoffa thought today had been particularly unlucky. 

After eating some desserts, Hoffa, still hungry and empty-handed, returned to the Ravenclaw common room. 

… 

The common room was unusually noisy. A group of students was eagerly discussing Quidditch. 

At the center of the crowd was the silver-haired Aglaia, whose exceptional flying skills had earned her widespread admiration. 

They surrounded her like stars around the moon, constantly asking her about flying techniques. 

When Aglaia saw Hoffa enter, she immediately raised her voice, proudly instructing her admirers like a graceful swan. 

"Gillon, you're leaning too far forward. No wonder you can't fly well." 

"William, your grip is wrong. The correct habit is to control direction with your left hand and swing the bat with your right. If you keep using your right hand to steer, you'll lose badly in matches." 

"Taylor, you did well today, but I noticed you're still afraid of flying. 

"Don't be afraid. You're not a Muggle. 

"Unlike someone…" 

She raised her voice when mentioning "someone," clearly insinuating. 

Hoffa ignored her, treating her words as nonsense. 

Since the common room wasn't suitable for meditation, he decided to meditate in his dormitory bed. 

But just as he was about to head upstairs, Miranda emerged from the crowd and stopped him. 

"Where have you been? I've been looking for you for ages." 

"What's up?" Hoffa asked indifferently. 

"Did you miss dinner?" 

Miranda handed him a paper package. 

Hoffa opened it and found food inside—a few chicken legs and bread. Though simple, it warmed his heart. 

He took the cold food and began eating. Miranda comforted him, "It's okay if you can't fly. I'm not good at it either. 

"In two weeks, we have our first Quidditch match against Gryffindor. Are you going to watch?" 

Hoffa was speechless. After today's events, he had little interest in Quidditch. 

Miranda had come to comfort him, worried he might be upset. 

She was really kind. 

But now, Hoffa's mind was filled with Transfiguration. He didn't care much for such trivial matters. 

However, since Miranda had asked, he couldn't outright refuse. 

He nodded vaguely, "Sure, why wouldn't I watch?" 

Miranda whispered in Hoffa's ear, "Aglaia was chosen as the reserve Seeker for our house team. Next week, the main Seeker is going to the Ministry for Auror training. If you could cheer for her once, I think it's a good chance for you two to settle your differences." 

Reserve Seeker, Aglaia! 

Settle their differences by cheering for her? 

Hoffa felt his stomach twist, as if he had eaten something disgusting. 

Miranda was quite clever—first giving him food, then asking him to support Aglaia. 

If she had mentioned the second part directly, Hoffa would have refused to watch the Quidditch match. 

Was she taking advantage of his soft-hearted nature?