Harry Potter: I am the Legend

"William is missing?"

Hoffa repeated Antonio's words.

"That's right. We… we went together—"

Antonio stammered, gesturing vaguely with his hands.

"Went where?"

Hoffa's expression was sharp, his face stern in the dark.

"We…"

Antonio lowered his head. He had always been timid, and seeing Hoffa's serious demeanor, he hesitated to continue.

It was Taylor who stepped in, clearing his throat and speaking gravely:

"We went to explore the prefects' bathroom together. But after going in, William never came back. He's gone."

The prefects' bathroom? Exploring?

Hoffa's eyes widened. These idiots actually went! The Ravenclaw prefect, Sherlock Bohan, was a girl! Not only had this group sneaked into the female prefect's bathroom, but they'd also managed to lose someone!

Seeing their uneasy expressions, Hoffa felt both irritated and exasperated. What kind of pointless nonsense were these people up to?

"He didn't come back? Maybe he fell into the pool," Hoffa said dismissively.

"No!" Antonio shook his head fervently. "We searched the entire bathroom and didn't find him anywhere."

"Maybe he's just playing invisible to mess with you," Hoffa said indifferently.

Antonio froze.

"William doesn't know how to turn invisible."

"We thought you could help us look for him," Taylor said softly. "You're so capable; you must have a way to figure it out."

Hoffa's irritation deepened. He replied, "This is something the prefects and the head of the house should handle. Go tell Dumbledore. It's curfew now."

"Please, no!" Antonio waved his hands frantically. "If Dumbledore finds out, we're dead. We might even get expelled. Please come with us to find him—if we find him, that's the end of it."

Antonio added pleadingly, "I'm begging you."

Looking at the sweat beading on Antonio's nose, Hoffa clenched his fingers against the bed sheet. This dormmate had always reminded him of Neville Longbottom—timid, though with a slightly better memory.

Taylor tried to add something, but Antonio quickly grabbed his arm to stop him.

"Hoffa, if we find William, I swear we'll never do anything like this again."

Taylor chimed in immediately, "Really, just this once. Please help us, Hoffa."

Hoffa muttered quietly, "What does any of this have to do with me?"

But even as he spoke, he stood up, his face expressionless.

"Lead the way."

Antonio and Taylor brightened instantly. They quickly pulled an old lantern from the nightstand, lit it, and led Hoffa out of the dormitory.

The school was nearly deserted at night. Antonio and Taylor tiptoed through the corridors, carrying the flickering lantern.

On the way to the prefects' bathroom, Hoffa got a rough idea of what had happened.

William had made a bet with a Gryffindor student about who could find the most valuable treasure in the prefects' bathroom. The Gryffindor returned with a silver candlestick, but William never came out.

The group searched for him but found nothing. The Gryffindor student panicked, believing the stolen candlestick had triggered a curse, and everyone fled in fear. With the bathroom empty and pitch-dark, Antonio and Taylor didn't dare explore further. They turned to Hoffa for help.

The prefects' bathroom was located on the sixth floor, near the statue of Boris the Bewildered. Antonio crouched near the statue and whispered, "Sweet Spirit Melon."

The door creaked open, revealing a pitch-black hallway behind it. The bathroom had no lights on.

"Are we… going in together to look?"

Antonio hesitated at the dark entrance, swallowing nervously at the thought of William's disappearance.

Taylor nudged Antonio, who immediately fell silent.

Hoffa noticed the subtle exchange and glanced at the shadowy doorway. Taking the lantern from Antonio's hand, he said, "You two stay outside and keep watch. If anyone comes, let me know immediately."

Antonio sighed in relief. "Okay, okay."

Taylor wiped the cold sweat from his brow and retreated to the statue, pretending to keep a serious lookout.

Hoffa ignored Taylor's theatrics and stepped into the bathroom with the lantern.

The bathroom was much like it would later appear during Harry Potter's time at Hogwarts—luxurious chandeliers, gleaming white marble floors.

But the atmosphere was completely different. There was none of the warmth or comfort Harry would find during the Triwizard Tournament. Instead, the room was pitch-black, devoid of any light. The furnishings, illuminated by the flickering lantern, cast ghostly outlines, like wandering, lost souls.

Here, Hoffa felt like he was the only living soul in the world.

The lantern illuminated the walls.

The mermaid within the gilded frame darted silently into the water the moment Hoffa's silhouette appeared.

Hoffa approached the painting and stared at the mermaid, who now peeked out with just the top of her head visible. He asked softly,

"Has anyone been here recently?"

The mermaid nodded.

"Where did they go?"

The mermaid glanced at Hoffa without answering, then disappeared with a splash, retreating entirely from the frame. Her peculiar gaze sent a shiver through Hoffa.

He ran his fingers along the bottom of the marble pool. The bathroom had clearly not been used for a long time; the bottom bore only dried water stains and a few strands of golden hair stuck to its surface.

This wasn't surprising. The bathroom once belonged to Sherlock Bohan, a Ravenclaw prefect known for her long, golden hair.

But amidst the hair, Hoffa noticed a few colorful feathers.

Unlike the hair, the feathers weren't stuck to the bottom—they floated on the surface, dry and fresh. Feathers? Could there have been birds here?

He picked up one of the feathers. It felt like the tail feather of a parrot.

A parrot?

Hoffa raised the lantern and scanned the room, but saw nothing. There were no signs of a struggle or disturbance. He fiddled with the faucet, twisting it a few times, but all it produced were creaks—no water flowed. The school's house-elves must have shut off the bathroom's hot water supply after the prefect left.

Puzzled, Hoffa straightened up.

Despite its fine decor, the bathroom was not massive like a late-Roman luxurious bath. It had limited space and no real hiding places.

Unless Antonio was playing a boring prank, it was impossible for someone like William to simply vanish into thin air.

Hoffa closed his eyes and activated his psychic field, concentrating for a moment. There were no residual magical energy traces.

No pranks, no games of hide-and-seek—then where had he gone?

Rubbing the strange tail feather in his hand, Hoffa left the bathroom and returned to the hallway outside the prefects' bathroom.

He decided to question Antonio and Taylor to see if he had missed any details.

But when Hoffa stepped into the hallway, the dormmates who were supposed to be standing watch were nowhere to be found.

Only Boris the Bewildered's statue remained, wearing his gloves backward and sporting a vacant expression, silently mocking Hoffa's situation.

"Antonio? Taylor?"

Hoffa called out twice into the dark corridor, but only his own echo replied—no one answered.

He glanced at his watch. It was nearly 1 a.m.

"Damn it. Idiots."

Hoffa cursed under his breath. They had abandoned him and run off.

Could they have gone back to sleep? Even shamelessness had its limits.

Frustrated, Hoffa marched back toward the Ravenclaw common room. But when he got there, Antonio and Taylor were nowhere to be found. They weren't in the dormitory either.

Standing at the dormitory door, winter's cold draft seeped through the curtains and wrapped around Hoffa, making his heart sink like a stone in the ocean.

If this wasn't a prank, something serious must have happened.

Sitting down on the edge of his bed, two voices echoed in his mind.

One urged him to go and search.

The other whispered, What does this have to do with you? Isn't their disappearance exactly what you wanted?

For two minutes, Hoffa sat there torn. In the end, the voice urging him to search prevailed.

He truly didn't want to get involved, but the thought of doing nothing left him uneasy. What if something had really happened to them?

Though he wasn't particularly close to his dormmates, they were still his dormmates.

He stood up again, left the common room, and began searching through the castle.

Because it was so late, he didn't dare call out too loudly. He checked one corner after another, scoured classroom after classroom.

He held the lantern aloft, running through corridors laced with mistletoe, past classrooms lined with suits of armor, and through passageways thick with cobwebs.

From the twelfth floor, he searched all the way down to the Great Hall. His three foolish dormmates seemed to have vanished into another dimension.

Near the Great Hall, Hoffa stopped, panting. He leaned against the wall, exhaustion overtaking him.

Snowflakes drifted in through the high windows of the castle, landing softly on Hoffa's shoulders as he exhaled a puff of white mist. In the dim light of the old lantern, his shadow stretched long and thin along the wall, twisting and towering.

The previously silent corridor began to tremble faintly. Startled, Hoffa turned to look.

In the weak glow of his lantern, two rats scurried across his elongated shadow and disappeared. Hoffa sighed, realizing it was just the rats and nothing more.

Yet again, he felt the unsettling sensation of being watched. Raising his head, he spotted the black-and-white cat he'd seen earlier in the bathroom. It was perched atop a beast-headed sculpture, staring at him unblinkingly.

What was going on?

Was this just a coincidence? Had he interrupted its hunt for mice?

Something felt off.

Rubbing his eyes, Hoffa looked again, but the black-and-white cat was gone.

Just as he was puzzling over the oddity, faint voices reached him from outside the Great Hall. Someone was there!

Thinking it might be his missing dormmates, he hurried in the direction of the voices.

But as he approached, he realized it wasn't his dormmates. Instead, it was several of the school's professors, including the heads of the four houses. They were quietly conversing near the school gates, where a Thestral-drawn carriage stood in the dark.

There were twelve Thestrals in total, standing silently in the snow. Their sleek, black, skeletal forms seemed untouched by the falling snowflakes.

Seeing the professors startled Hoffa. His first instinct was to retreat. Wandering around the castle during curfew could earn him a severe punishment.

However, the sight of the person stepping out of the Thestral carriage stopped him in his tracks—it was someone he hadn't seen in a long time: Dumbledore.

His auburn beard and hair were slightly unkempt, and he wore a gray robe. He looked weary, as though he had just returned from a long journey.

For a moment, Hoffa felt as though he'd found his anchor. After weeks of relentless nightmares, the sight of this man filled him with an overwhelming sense of relief. He resisted the urge to retreat and stayed hidden in the shadows.

The professors, including the heads of the four houses, engaged Dumbledore in conversation by the carriage, likely discussing some urgent matters.

Once the discussion concluded, the heads of the four houses boarded the Thestral carriage. The twelve Thestrals flapped their wings and ascended into the stormy night sky, the carriage disappearing into the swirling snow.

Only two people remained in the snowy courtyard: Dumbledore and Jacob Bohan, the current Transfiguration professor. The two walked side by side, their conversation drifting faintly toward Hoffa.

Jacob Bohan: "The Ministry is that short-staffed?"

Dumbledore: "Short-handed. How's the hospital holding up?"

Bohan: "It's fine. Although the potions are still not—"

Dumbledore: "And Drassus? Can he cultivate more? I heard there's a shortage of dragons, and the students are quite—"

Bohan: "Dragons aren't owls you can pick up in Diagon Alley."

As they walked closer, their voices became clearer.

Dumbledore: "I'm working on it. Just give me a little more time."

Bohan murmured, "My concern is that even if there are enough dragons, Drassus won't let more people handle them. He's an old aristocrat. To him, the top of the pyramid doesn't need too many people."

"And you?"

"I support you, Albus. Completely."

Bohan spoke softly.

The two continued their conversation beneath the beast-head statue at the school's entrance. After a long exchange, Bohan finally excused himself, taking a different path back to his office.

Once Bohan left, Dumbledore exhaled a misty breath into the frosty air and began ascending the staircase leading into the castle.

Hoffa immediately stepped out from the shadows, positioning himself in Dumbledore's path.

"Professor."

(To be continued.)

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