Chapter 18: Forgetfulness  

What is a problem girl? Hoffa felt no one fit the description better than this girl. 

He had finally realized that this little troublemaker was determined to oppose him at every turn. Anything that could make him unhappy, she would try. 

She had become the most annoying person Hoffa had encountered in both of his lives! 

Even Tom Riddle was more likable than her. At least Voldemort was low-key! 

Walking into an empty bathroom, Hoffa turned on the faucet and splashed water on his face, but the cold water couldn't calm him down. 

He thought he was mature enough to keep his emotions in check. 

But after so many days, he found his patience was on the verge of snapping. 

Finally, he angrily kicked the tiles and cursed, "Holding grudges! 

"Vanity! 

"Psycho! How can there be someone as boring as you in the world?" 

Just as Hoffa was venting his anger. 

*Thud.* 

The sound of a book hitting the floor came from the doorway. Hoffa immediately turned around. 

He saw Miranda standing at the bathroom entrance, so shocked that she had dropped her books. 

Hoffa instantly realized he had lost his composure. 

With his goals constantly delayed, his patience had unknowingly worn thin, leading to this outburst of helpless rage. A true wizard wouldn't act like this. 

Miranda picked up her books while muttering, "I saw you leave in a hurry, so I followed to check on you…" 

"It's nothing," Hoffa said, "I just got really angry." 

"What's wrong with you today? 

"You seem off." 

After putting her books away, Miranda asked. 

"Me? Off? 

"Do I look as crazy as that white-haired girl…?" Hoffa scoffed. 

"Of course, I've never seen you care about your appearance before. 

"Even at the opening feast, you were so casual. Why are you suddenly so eager today?" 

Miranda asked. 

Hoffa fell silent. 

Seeing Hoffa's lack of response, Miranda comforted him: "Actually, Aglaia isn't that hard to get along with. She just likes to show off. 

"I guess she's the most Ravenclaw in Ravenclaw." 

"Tch, since when did Ravenclaw become an adjective?" 

With that, Hoffa walked out of the bathroom. 

Miranda followed behind him and asked, "What do you think Ravenclaw is? 

"If you ask me, Aglaia wouldn't be welcome in any other house. 

"But Ravenclaw students have their own way of getting along. Maybe you could try seeing her from a different perspective." 

Hoffa sneered, "Hmph, as long as she doesn't get in my way, she can do whatever she wants. Even if she wins the Nobel Prize this year, it's none of my business." 

"What's the Nobel Prize?" 

"Never mind," Hoffa waved his hand irritably, "Don't you think people like her are annoying?" 

"Not really, she hasn't… 

"Wait." 

Miranda suddenly stopped. 

"You said she got in your way. Did she do something to you today?" 

"Of course…" Hoffa was about to tell the truth but stopped himself. 

Ravenclaws were sharp. He didn't want anyone to know about his desire for the Restricted Section. 

But Miranda had already figured it out. She adjusted her glasses and smiled meaningfully. 

"You groomed yourself and actively answered questions. 

"Were you trying to make a good impression on Slughorn?" 

Hoffa quickly distanced himself from Miranda. He felt that Miranda didn't act like a girl at all. 

Miranda caught up, "Oh, oh, so you're not as indifferent as you seem. What do you want? 

"To join his Slug Club or get some potions from him?" 

"Neither." 

Hoffa stopped in frustration. 

"Then what do you want? Tell me." 

Hoffa hesitated. Her identity as the vice-principal's granddaughter made him cautious. 

"Are you trying to get a girl's attention?" 

Miranda actually started gossiping. Knowing she might be provoking him, Hoffa gritted his teeth. Were British kids this precocious? 

"Or maybe the person you like is Aglaia…?" 

Hoffa got goosebumps. He angrily raised his book, pretending to hit her. 

"Enough, shut up. Can you stop being disgusting? 

"I want Slughorn's signature to borrow a book from the library. Are you satisfied with that answer?" 

"That's it…?" 

Miranda was surprised. 

"What else? 

"If it weren't for the strict librarian, why would I go out of my way to please the head of Slytherin?" 

"You should've said so earlier." 

Miranda held her forehead, "Such a simple thing is easy to get. Why compete with Aglaia for attention?" 

"Huh? 

"You have a way!" 

Hoffa's face lit up, "You mean you can get your grandfather to help me?" 

"Don't even think about it. Adalbert wouldn't do something so kind." 

Hoffa: "Then what's the point?" 

"He won't, but I will." 

Miranda grinned, "We can use a little trick…" 

Hoffa was curious about her method, but Miranda didn't tell him. 

She just asked him to cooperate and keep it a secret. 

Soon, it was Monday again. 

It was a gloomy, rainy day. The sound of rain tapping on the castle windows filled the air, and the castle looked gray inside and out. 

In the morning, during Charms class. 

Adalbert Goshawk entered the classroom precisely on time, as usual. 

He stood at the podium, his gray eyes scanning the room. He asked sternly, "Why is someone missing again?" 

Hoffa didn't need to look to know Miranda had skipped class again. 

But this time, before Goshawk could deduct points, a hand shot up. 

It was Aglaia, who shared a dorm with Miranda. 

Goshawk asked, "What is it?" 

Aglaia said, "Professor, here's Miranda's sick note. She has an upset stomach." 

With that, she pulled out a piece of paper and handed it over. 

Goshawk glanced at it. Hoffa noticed a rare look of disappointment on the usually stoic professor's face. 

The expression made Hoffa feel a bit sorry for the old man. 

He thought that if he were Professor Goshawk, he would've been furious. 

His granddaughter kept skipping his class, and he couldn't really do anything about it. 

How could he maintain his authority? 

But the elderly Professor Goshawk quickly hid his disappointment. He swiftly signed the note and handed it back to Aglaia. 

No points were deducted, and the Ravenclaw students breathed a sigh of relief. 

Goshawk: "Last class, we covered the basics of spell syllables and movements. Today, we'll practice casting spells. First, we'll learn the Doubling Charm, which is used for physical objects but can also extend to non-physical entities like thoughts and memories. It's a non-basic but highly advanced…" 

Once class started, the tense atmosphere eased. 

This lesson marked the beginning of their practical spellcasting. Although Hoffa had already learned most of the first-year spells, including the Doubling Charm from the beginner spellbook, he still paid close attention. 

Thanks to his above-average mental abilities, Hoffa excelled in both Charms and Transfiguration. 

In the end, he successfully duplicated a small iron ball into two, then four. 

His skill earned Goshawk's praise, and he awarded Ravenclaw ten points. 

Though not as generous as Dumbledore, it was enough to anger Aglaia. 

Because the iron balls she duplicated were noticeably smaller than the original, not identical. 

Of course, this was still good among ordinary students, but it paled in comparison to Hoffa. 

Hoffa ignored her frustration. He had reflected on himself and decided not to let her provoke him anymore. 

He believed this was a stumbling block on his path to self-improvement, a test from the universe. 

But after class, as he reached the fourth-floor staircase, he saw Aglaia standing under the statue of the flatterer, arms crossed, coldly staring at him. 

Hoffa thought she was upset about him earning house points again. He ignored her and walked past. 

"Stop!" 

Aglaia called out coldly. 

Hoffa reluctantly turned, "What?" 

"What's your relationship with Miranda?" 

Aglaia asked. 

Hoffa replied indifferently, "What are you trying to say?" 

"Why did she ask me to leave this for you?" 

With that, Aglaia raised her hand, holding a piece of paper. 

Hoffa sneered, "I don't know what you're talking about, but whatever Miranda wants to give me, it's none of your business." 

Aglaia immediately looked disgusted. 

"Don't flatter yourself. I don't care about your business." 

She flicked her fingers, dropping the paper. 

As if it were something dirty, she turned and left without looking back. 

Hoffa's patience +1. 

He lazily cast a Levitation Charm to retrieve the paper. 

Opening it, he saw it was Miranda's sick note. 

[I have an upset stomach and am at the hospital wing. 

"Please excuse me for the morning. 

"Miranda Goshawk.] 

Below was Adalbert Goshawk's signature. 

Hoffa stared at the note, puzzled. Just as he wondered what it was for, the letters on the paper suddenly shifted. 

They quickly rearranged themselves into: 

[Permission to borrow any book from the library, no time limit.] 

Adalbert Goshawk 

Hoffa's jaw dropped. Miranda had promised to help him get a library pass. 

But he hadn't expected her to use this method—pretending to be sick to get Adalbert's signature. 

She had not only fooled Goshawk but even Aglaia, that troublemaker. 

Surprised and relieved, Hoffa felt like his luck was finally turning. 

Primary goal achieved! 

With the Transfiguration book, he might be able to become an Animagus. 

If successful, it would be like gaining stealth. 

Invisibility and Animagus forms each had their advantages. Invisibility completely hid one's appearance, but transforming into a small creature allowed access to places humans couldn't go. 

The best part was that an Animagus's footsteps would be silent when in a smaller form. 

Hoffa wanted to thank Miranda properly, but she was still absent from Dumbledore's class. 

This made him wonder—was she really sick? 

After Transfiguration class, Hoffa rushed to the library with the signed note. 

When he reached the spot where Morgan's *Dissecting All Things, Structure is King* was, he was about to pull it out. 

The librarian popped out. 

He waved a feather duster and barked, "Hey! 

"It's you again…" 

A note was thrust under his nose, cutting him off. 

"Enough nonsense, give me the book!" 

Hoffa said. 

The librarian snatched the note, read it twice, and swallowed his unspoken words. His wrinkled face looked frustrated and confused. 

Rules were rules. He had no room to argue. 

Reluctantly, he pulled out the book and handed it to Hoffa. 

Holding the thick book, Hoffa felt a sense of relief as he touched its rough cover. 

But he didn't start reading immediately. 

He decided to wait until he was alone. 

In the Great Hall that evening, the ceiling mirrored the gloomy rain outside. 

Hoffa finally saw Miranda, who had been absent all day. She was sitting at the table, eating a potato pie, looking listless. 

Hoffa waved his hand in front of her, "Hey!" 

Miranda slowly turned her head. Strangely, she wasn't wearing her glasses and looked pale and sickly. 

"Did you really have an upset stomach?" 

Hoffa asked with concern. 

Miranda looked Hoffa up and down, hummed in acknowledgment, and then continued eating her potato pie, seeming uninterested in talking. 

"Poor thing…" Hoffa muttered. He took a potato pie and whispered to Miranda, "Thank you so much. I got the book." 

Miranda stopped chewing. She thought for a moment. 

"What?" 

"The book. 

"I borrowed it from the library…" 

"What does that have to do with me?" 

Miranda interrupted expressionlessly. She turned back to her potato pie. 

Hoffa was stunned. He was confused. 

What do you mean, what does it have to do with you? If it weren't for your help, how could I have borrowed it? 

This usually kind girl had suddenly become so cold. 

He thought Miranda might be in a bad mood because of her period. 

But then he realized he was crazy. 

This girl was only eleven, still a child. Where would she get a period…?