Chapter 7: The Scholar's Knowledge
He had started with 100 Galleons, and after spending on books and a wand, he still had over 70 left. For an 11-year-old, that made him quite wealthy—for now.
Of course, it was only temporary.
Hoffa knew he'd be at Hogwarts for seven years, and this amount of money wouldn't last.
But his motto was to deal with the future when it came and focus on making the best of the present.
During the busy day, he hadn't felt much, but when night fell, excitement surged within him, impossible to suppress. He kept taking out his new wand, turning it over in his hands and savoring the sensation of magic flowing through him.
By midnight, unable to resist, he pulled out his Charms textbook.
He tried a few simple spells, and his new wand didn't disappoint.
Despite Ollivander calling it a "half-finished product," the wand worked flawlessly.
The Levitation Charm, which had frustrated Ron and Harry so much in the future, took Hoffa mere moments to master.
Sitting on the bed, he pointed his wand at his pillow and recited the incantation:
"Wingardium Leviosa!"
The pillow zipped around the room, flying wildly.
After playing with it for a while, Hoffa grew worried that performing magic outside school might attract the Ministry of Magic's attention. So, with mixed apprehension and excitement, he spent the rest of the night.
As it turned out, he needn't have worried—no one came looking for him.
In the days before the start of term, Hoffa exchanged a few Galleons for some pounds and bought himself some civilian clothes in London: a few pairs of jeans and some white shirts. His previous clothes were far too shabby.
He also purchased some fruit and a few bottles of pine nut wine to give to Mrs. Cole as a farewell gift. Though his soul wasn't the same as the original Hoffa's, this body had been under her care for a long time.
The rest of his time was spent in Diagon Alley, hoping to complete the system's 100% exploration task to earn the so-called Scholar's Knowledge.
Unfortunately, being so young, he couldn't enter Knockturn Alley or several other dangerous dark magic shops, leaving his exploration progress stuck at 60%.
This left Hoffa feeling regretful. He now appreciated the benefits of Harry Potter's Invisibility Cloak. If he had such an item, the exploration task would have been a breeze.
But alas, in 1938, even Harry Potter's father hadn't been born yet, so who knew where that cloak was.
Hoffa thought about trying the Disillusionment Charm with his new wand, but such advanced spells weren't in his beginner-level schoolbooks. He read through all the spellbooks he had but found only practical, everyday spells—nothing more advanced.
He consoled himself with the thought that Hogwarts' library might hold the key to learning the Disillusionment Charm.
As for the earring Indor had given him, Hoffa spent days studying it without uncovering any of its mysteries.
What made it worse was that he couldn't remove it. The earring seemed almost fused to his ear. Hoffa could only hope that Hogwarts wasn't like his former life's secondary schools and would allow students to express a bit of individuality.
In his previous life, wearing an earring to school would've likely gotten him kicked out on the first day.
Time in Diagon Alley flew by, and soon it was September 1st—the day term began.
On that day, Hoffa woke up extra early, almost before dawn. He was determined not to miss the train due to some unexpected delay.
He didn't have much luggage, so he didn't bother with a trolley. For £2, he bought a canvas bag and a suitcase, packing his clothes and books in the bag and his collapsible cauldron in the suitcase.
Thankfully, he had left early. The day was pouring rain, and he hit London's rush hour traffic. Crossing several streets, he finally made it to the underground station.
Fortunately, London already had a subway system in this world, though it wasn't as developed as the one in his past life. Still, it connected directly to King's Cross Station.
In 1938, London's subway wasn't as bustling or efficient as the modern ones in Beijing or Shanghai. The trains were slow, and the carriages had knitted seats with a faint, unpleasant smell, like cat litter.
Some soldiers in green metal helmets and carrying rifles stood swaying in the train cars, chatting and laughing among themselves or looking around curiously.
They looked young—probably new recruits for the British army, on their way to report somewhere.
Hoffa sat in a corner, backpack on his shoulders, watching the soldiers with mixed emotions. He couldn't help but think that in just a few years, most of these men might not be alive.
Sometimes, knowing the future wasn't a blessing.
Especially in such turbulent times.
King's Cross Station, located at the border of Camden and Islington, was already bustling when Hoffa emerged from the subway. Most people were dressed as Muggles, though a few wizards, unfamiliar with Muggle customs, stood out with their odd outfits.
Hoffa even spotted a group of cross-dressing wizards chatting and picking their noses by the station.
Knowing the process, Hoffa didn't need to wander like Harry Potter did. He quickly found Platforms 9 and 10, adjusted his bag, and sprinted toward the barrier between them.
As he ran, he closed his eyes.
He picked up speed.
And then—
Thunk!
A loud crash.
Hoffa slammed into something soft.
The sound of clattering luggage followed, and he tumbled to the ground, rolling twice.
What the hell?!That was Hoffa's first thought.
Don't tell me I killed myself running into the barrier!
He scrambled up, disheveled, and looked to see what he had hit.
It wasn't a wall but a silver-haired girl. She had been pushing a trolley and had suddenly appeared in the gap between Platforms 9 and 10.
Hoffa had practically crashed into her arms, scattering her luggage everywhere.
Frustrated, Hoffa cursed silently. Of all places to stand, why there? And it was clear she wasn't a Muggle, as a white owl flapped its wings wildly in a cage among the scattered items.
Everyone else goes through vertically—what, are you trying to go through horizontally?
Annoyed but trying to be polite, Hoffa stepped forward, pulled the girl up, and began gathering her things.
"Sorry about that. Are you all right?" he asked, not looking up as he worked.
The silver-haired girl stood up, folded her arms, and watched Hoffa clean up without lifting a finger to help.
The silence was palpable.
Halfway through tidying up, Hoffa felt something was off. Sure, I ran into you, but you don't have to be completely silent, do you?
He looked up, taking a good look at her.
And on first glance, he was stunned.
At first glance, she was a stunningly beautiful young girl. Her skin was fair, her oval face framed by silver hair cascading down her shoulders. She wore a simple white dress, and her large blue eyes stared unblinkingly at him, giving her an ethereal, ghost-like appearance.
Hoffa's amazement lasted less than a second before he was irritated.
The girl said, "Keep picking it up. Why'd you stop?"
Her ghostly blue eyes were filled with pride and dissatisfaction.
Hoffa's face darkened. While he had a good temper, it didn't mean he liked being treated like a house-elf. Especially when she was the one who had caused the problem in the first place.
"Why were you blocking the way here?" Hoffa asked coldly, standing up.
"I was looking for Platform 9," the girl replied indifferently.
Ah, so she was a first-year like him.
Hoffa, noticing her ignorant yet arrogant demeanor, felt an urge to mess with her.
He pointed behind her and said, "Look, isn't that the platform?"
The girl turned her head to look.
Taking the chance, Hoffa darted straight into the wall and disappeared from her view.
The girl turned back and frowned. "Where?"
No one answered.
She turned quickly back again, but the space was empty. Only her half-packed luggage and a white owl chirping angrily in its cage remained. The boy was nowhere to be seen.
Her expression darkened.
On the other side of the wall, Hoffa emerged, feeling secretly triumphant.
"Serves her right for acting superior in front of me," he thought, relishing the small act of revenge.
Looking around, he noticed a brass plaque embedded in the brick column near the tunnel's exit.
[Platform Nine and Three-Quarters – Established 1849, by Evangeline Orpington (15th Minister for Magic)]
It wasn't particularly useful information, and Hoffa barely spared it a glance before stepping out of the tunnel.
Before him lay a bustling scene. A crimson steam engine stood at the crowded platform, its sign reading: Hogwarts Express, 11:00 AM.
The engine's smoke curled up into the rainy sky. Cats of various colors darted around people's feet, while the cacophony of travelers' chatter, clattering luggage, and the piercing calls of owls filled the air.
He didn't have time to take in the sight.
Suddenly, a soft chime rang in his mind:
Ding!
Hoffa was momentarily stunned but quickly overjoyed.
It seemed that any wizarding settlement could trigger exploration quests. Unlike Diagon Alley, with its inaccessible Knockturn Alley and dark magic shops, this platform was straightforward. He could likely complete the task quickly.
Without hesitation, Hoffa began his exploration.
He sprinted from the front of the train to the back. Along the way, he saw children with all sorts of pets—frogs, owls, cats, rats, snakes, birds—and even spotted a young, handsome Tom Riddle charming a group of older girls in green robes.
But Hoffa wasn't concerned with any of that. His focus was entirely on his mental map.
As he moved, the progress bar in his mind's eye steadily climbed:
20%
30%
45%
50%
Ding! Spell Fragment Obtained (2/3).
60%
70%
90%
100%
Ding!
Standing at the back of the steam engine, Hoffa shivered as a cool sensation rushed through his mind.
(End of Chapter)
Want to read the chapters in Advance? Join my Patreon
https://patreon.com/Glimmer09