Hoffa stared bnkly at himself. Sure enough, his whole body was soaking wet, as if he had just been caught in a downpour.

  “Ugh, stop spacing out!”

  Agia stomped her foot twice in frustration, then raised her wand with a flick.

  A signal charm shot into the sky, illuminating the misty air.

  Moments ter, a figure dashed over at high speed.

  “Did you find him?” Miranda called out against the wind.

  “Yeah, I found him,” Agia replied irritably. “This guy’s brain seems broken.”

  “Enough talking, let's get moving,” Miranda shouted from the foggy distance. “There’s only one carriage left. We can’t be te for the feast!”

  “Got it.” Without another word, Agia grabbed the utterly confused Hoffa, pulling and dragging him back onto the main path.

  Once they passed through Hogwarts' towering bck iron gates, Hoffa saw a carriage being pulled by a Thestral with bat-like wings and a skeletal frame. Miranda was already inside, waving for him to hurry up.

  As soon as he got in, Agia sat with a scowl on her face.

  Miranda, however, folded her arms and gave Hoffa a serious look.

  “Did something happen to you?” she asked, her eyes sharp with concern.

  Hoffa hesitated for a moment, then recounted everything he had seen.

  Their reactions were immediate and intense.

  “You saw the undercarriage of the train? That’s bizarre,” Agia muttered to herself.

  “Has this ever happened before?” Miranda asked in a tone that resembled a doctor’s calm inquiry.

  Hoffa nodded. “Last year, I got lost in the centaur's magical illusion. It felt a lot like this.”

  “An illusion created by centaur magic?” Miranda rubbed her chin thoughtfully. “So, it was an illusionary space?”

  “No, I don’t think so,” Agia shook her head. “Illusion magic requires a medium — something like a scent, a pattern, an object, or something simir. Did you interact with any sort of medium?”

  “I don’t remember,” Hoffa said ftly.

  “I’m leaning toward it not being an illusion,” Miranda shrugged. “Think about it — if it were an illusion, why could only Hoffa see it? And even if someone was casting an illusion spell, what would be the point? The centaurs create illusions to protect the Forbidden Forest — that’s a clear purpose.

  “But what Hoffa saw sounds like a chaotic, illogical dreamscape — just random fragments of subconscious thoughts jumbled together. Hoffa, do you have a sleepwalking problem?”

  The two Ravencw friends continued offering their theories, but Hoffa, who had experienced it all firsthand, remained silent. He shook his head.

  An illusion? Sleepwalking? Who knew what had really happened to him.

  Before he could think any further, the Thestral-drawn carriage came to a stop. They had arrived at the main tower of the Hogwarts castle.

  The three of them stepped out of the carriage. While his two friends continued to argue — one suggesting Hoffa visit the school nurse, the other recommending he see a psychologist — Hoffa stayed quiet.

  Even though he knew they meant well, their endless chatter was starting to wear on him.

  Finally, feeling a bit irritated, he muttered, “I’m not sick. Can you guys give me some peace?”

  But his two friends paid no attention, continuing to buzz around him like concerned bees.

  Hoffa quickened his pace, weaving through a group of Gryffindor students in red robes as he made his way into the entrance hall of the school.

  As soon as he stepped inside, he froze, his eyes widening in shock.

  The Hogwarts Great Hall was completely different from how he remembered it.

  Last year, it had been simple, with four long tables lined up neatly in the center of the hall. But this year…

  The four House tables had been repositioned, arranged into four distinct sides, like the four walls of a Mahjong table.

  The reason for this change was obvious.

  In the very center of the hall stood a towering metal pilr, intricately carved with swirling patterns and mysterious magical symbols. The pilr stretched from the stone floor all the way up to the high ceiling.

  At about two meters from the ground, the pilr split in two. At the break, the metal carvings morphed into two massive, interlocking metal hands — one facing upward, the other downward.

  The most eye-catching sight of all, however, was the perfectly round white orb floating between the two metal hands.

  The sphere emitted a soft, hazy glow, and within its center, faint specks of light swirled like distant stars in a gaxy.

  Its brilliance was so mesmerizing that every student who entered the hall found themselves transfixed, their gazes drawn toward it like moths to a fme.

  Soft, diffused beams of light shimmered down from the enchanted ceiling, adding to the surreal atmosphere.

  “What... is that?”

  Hoffa gazed at the colossal metal arms with wide eyes. Around him, students from other Houses stood near the entrance, whispering among themselves.

  Their reactions were as varied as their faces — some were astonished, some curious, some awestruck, and others visibly unsettled.

  Moments ter, Agia and Miranda entered the hall, stopping in their tracks as they caught sight of the scene. They both drew sharp breaths of surprise.

  “The Hogwarts Orb,” Agia muttered in disbelief.

  “The what?” Hoffa asked, still staring.

  “It’s the Hogwarts Orb,” Agia repeated. “Legend says it was forged by the four founders working together. It’s a magical artifact said to protect the school from catastrophe. I can’t believe it… What happened that made the school bring this out?”

  Forged by the four founders?

  Hoffa’s gaze sharpened. He reached out with his mental force field, letting it brush against the air within the hall. Immediately, he sensed the faint presence of protective magic flowing like invisible currents through the room.

  The magic wasn’t strong, but it was there. Its presence was steady, consistent, and ancient.

  Hoffa felt a shiver run down his spine.

  What’s going on at Hogwarts this year?

  Hoffa stared bnkly at his body. There was no doubt about it — he was soaking wet, as if he had been caught in a torrential downpour.

  "Hey, stop daydreaming!"

  Agia stomped her foot twice in frustration, then raised her wand with a flick.

  A signal spell shot into the sky.

  Shortly after, a figure came running toward them at high speed.

  "Did you find him?" Miranda asked against the wind.

  "Yes, we did," Agia replied irritably. "But it seems like this guy’s brain is broken."

  "Enough talking, let's get going," Miranda called from the mist in the distance. "There's only one carriage left, and we can't be te for the banquet."

  "Got it," Agia said without hesitation. She grabbed the utterly confused Hoffa and dragged him forcefully onto the main road.

  After rushing through the bck iron gates of Hogwarts, Hoffa saw a carriage being pulled by bck-winged thestrals. Miranda waved at him from atop the carriage.

  Once inside, Agia frowned in anger.

  Miranda crossed her arms, gazing at Hoffa with a serious expression. "Did something happen to you?"

  Hoffa, still confused, expined what he had seen to his two friends.

  Their expressions changed immediately.

  "You saw the underside of the train? That strange?" Agia muttered.

  "Has anything like this happened before?" Miranda asked, like a doctor inquiring about symptoms.

  Hoffa nodded. "Last year, I got lost once in a centaur’s magical illusion. It felt kind of simir."

  Miranda rubbed her chin thoughtfully. "The centaur's magic... an illusion, maybe?"

  "No, that’s unlikely," Agia shook her head. "Illusion magic requires a medium — like scent, patterns, or objects. Did you come into contact with any illusion-casting medium?"

  "I don't remember," Hoffa said stiffly.

  "I don't think it's an illusion," Miranda shrugged. "Think about it — why could only Hoffa see it, and not anyone else? And even if someone were casting illusion magic, what would be the purpose? The centaurs create illusions to protect the Forbidden Forest, and that has a clear motive.

  "But the stuff Hoffa saw sounds like a chaotic, illogical dream — a disorganized mishmash of subconscious fragments. Hoffa, are you sleepwalking by any chance?"

  The two Ravencw friends shared their thoughts, while Hoffa, who was the subject of the bizarre event, remained silent and shook his head.

  An illusion? Sleepwalking? Only fate knew what he had experienced.

  Before he could explore the mystery any further, the thestral-drawn carriage came to a stop. They had arrived at the main building of the castle.

  The three of them climbed out of the carriage, with his two friends still arguing beside him. One suggested that Hoffa see the school nurse, while the other suggested he see a psychologist.

  Although Hoffa knew they were being helpful, their constant chatter was grating on his nerves.

  "Can you both give it a rest and let me have some peace?" he said, annoyed.

  His two friends ignored his plea, continuing their curious and concerned discussion right next to him.

  Hoffa quickened his pace, passing a group of red-robed Gryffindors as he entered the grand hall of the school.

  The moment he entered, he came to an abrupt stop, his eyes wide with surprise.

  Compared to the depiction in the original story, st year’s hall had been somewhat stern and formal, but at least the four house tables had been neatly arranged in the center of the hall.

  But this year, the Great Hall had undergone a complete transformation.

  The tables for the four houses were now positioned in four distinct directions, resembling the four "walls" of a mahjong table.

  The reason for this change was immediately obvious.

  In the center of the hall, a towering metallic pilr stood tall, connecting the floor to the high ceiling. The pilr was adorned with intricate carvings and mysterious magical symbols.

  At around two meters up, the pilr was divided, forming two metal hands, one reaching upward and one reaching downward.

  The most eye-catching sight was the glowing white orb floating between the two hands. The orb radiated a soft, hazy glow, with what looked like swirling stars within it.

  It was so dazzling that everyone who entered the hall was completely captivated by it.

  A soft, misty glow continued to drift down from the enchanted ceiling.

  "What is that?"

  Hoffa stared in shock at the towering metallic hands at the center of the hall. Students from other houses were just as mesmerized, whispering among themselves near the entrance.

  Their faces showed a variety of emotions — surprise, curiosity, reverence, and even fear.

  Agia and Miranda entered the hall a moment ter, gasping as they stood frozen in pce.

  “The Hogwarts Orb,” Agia muttered in disbelief. "It’s said to have been forged by the four founders working together — a legendary magical artifact that can supposedly protect the school from disaster. Why would the school bring out something like that?"

  Hearing this, Hoffa reached out with his mental field. He could feel faint protective magic diffused throughout the entire hall.

  The closer he got to the orb at the center, the more obscure and complex the magical aura became.

  Cp, cp, cp!

  Suddenly, the loud sound of appuse echoed through the hall, breaking the students’ focus.

  Hoffa turned his head and saw Dumbledore standing at the staff table. He wore a deep-blue wizard's robe and a pointed ceremonial hat, giving him an air of elegance and dignity.

  "Everyone, please return to your house tables as usual. The Sorting Ceremony is about to begin," he announced.

  At his words, the students quickly dispersed, heading to their respective tables.

  The Ravencw table was now located on the eastern side of the hall. Hoffa sat down, but his attention remained fixed on the orb.

  He was extremely curious about this magical treasure, which had never appeared in the original story. What was its purpose? Even as the Sorting Ceremony began, his thoughts stayed on the orb.

  The 1939 Sorting Ceremony was perhaps the quietest in history. From the moment the Sorting Hat was pced on each new student’s head to the moment they were assigned to a house, the appuse was sparse.

  Most of the students, like Hoffa, were too distracted by the mysterious orb in the hall's center.

  When the ceremony ended, fmes suddenly bzed brightly on the staff table, dimming the glow of the radiant orb. Everyone’s attention shifted to the head of the staff table.

  A harsh cough echoed through the hall, and an old, frail figure slowly stood up.

  Armando Dippet looked even worse than st year. His back was hunched, his body was frail, and his thin frame looked ready to colpse at any moment. His half-bald head was now even more disheveled.

  With great effort, he stood and propped himself up, leading Hoffa to suspect that the headmaster didn’t have many years left.

  Under the worried gazes of the students, the current headmaster, Armando Dippet, began his speech.

  "This year, we have two significant changes," he said. "First, our deputy headmaster and head of Ravencw, Adibe Gosak, is on a diplomatic mission to the Soviet Union and will be unable to fulfill his duties.

  “During his absence, I am appointing Professor Albus Percival Dumbledore as the acting head of Ravencw House and deputy headmaster.”

  The hall fell into stunned silence. Hoffa was equally shocked.

  But almost immediately, the hall’s reaction split in two. Ravencw students wore cold, indifferent expressions, including Agia and Miranda.

  However, the Gryffindor table erupted in cheers. Some students whistled, and a few even gnced smugly at the Ravencw table.

  "Silence!"

  A massive surge of mental pressure descended on the hall, silencing the Gryffindors.

  "You three," Dippet said coldly to the whistling students, "one month of bor in the Forbidden Forest."

  The mood turned icy cold, and the Gryffindors immediately shut their mouths.

  After scolding the offenders, Dippet continued, “As per tradition, Dumbledore will also take on the role of Charms professor.”

  Dumbledore stood, pced a hand over his heart, and bowed slightly.

  The Ravencw appuse was faint and cold.

  Hoffa's cps, however, carried a hint of genuine approval.

  (End of Chapter)

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