Chapter 180

Dumbledore saw the boy coming around the corner, surprised and said: "Bach?"

"Good evening, professor." Said Hoffa.

"Why don't you come back so late? It's curfew time. "

Dumbledore, not angry, just frowned.

"Something happened and I have to tell you."

"What's the matter?"

"I have three roommates..."

"wait a minute, go to the office and say it."

Dumbledore looked around, interrupted Hoffa: "just in time, I have something to ask you."

Hoffa was stunned and nodded.

"Good."

Dumbledore walked in the front, Hoffa walked in the back, they did not speak all the way, but Hoffa has a long lost sense of ease. Like a traveler who has been walking in the desert for a long time, he meets a lush oasis.

They came to the office on the third floor.

Dumbledore's office is not much different from what it used to be. A few wooden cabinets, mahogany desk, some shining silver on the table, slowly rotating. The phoenix named fox stood on a high gilded perch. When he saw Hoffa coming, he straightened up happily and gave him a low cry.

Hoffa himself sat in his chair and said hello to fox.

Dumbledore waved his magic wand and the fireplace blazed. The whole room warmed up.

In the light of the fire, Dumbledore's usual tall body now looks a little camel. It was probably a long journey that consumed him a lot. He went to the cupboard and took out a glass of amber wine bottle. He opened it and poured it into two cups.

Somehow, this action reminds Hoffa of James Bohan, the deformation teacher.

As he poured the wine, he asked, "I heard that now you have a considerable influence among ordinary students."

Hoffa nodded and whispered:

"sort of."

"I'm glad you're willing to take responsibility."

Dumbledore came to Hoffa with two glasses and put one in front of him.

"Thank you."

Hoffa picked up the cup and took a sip.

Dumbledore leaned deep in his chair, his joints clicking.

"However, the feedback from other deans recently shows that the students are very impetuous and have no enthusiasm for serious study."

"Well..."

Hoffa put down his glass, "it seems like this."

"What the hell is going on?" Dumbledore asked crossly.

"What?" Hoffa didn't understand.

"I said, the school atmosphere is impetuous now, this is why."

Hoffa doesn't know why Dumbledore asked himself this question. Isn't the impetuous atmosphere of students due to the influence of the environment? What does it have to do with him.

"I don't know." He said honestly, "maybe it's too much pressure. There's a war outside and every day's study is very heavy..."

"Hoffa."

Dumbledore interrupted him. "You didn't take care of them."

Silence enveloped the office. Hoffa looked into Dumbledore's blue eyes and didn't know what to say for a moment.

Dumbledore sighed and rubbed his temple. "Hoffa, you're not an ordinary student anymore."

Hoffa: "I don't think so."

"You have to feel that way."

Dumbledore said firmly that he stood up straight with his hands crossed:

"listen, Bach, there is a covetous eye on the school outside, as the only magic University in the UK. At this time, you should share my worries. "

"I..."

"why not try to set an example for them?"

"I..."

"Hoffa, it's your responsibility. You should be stronger. "

Dumbledore's powerful speeches made Hoffa's spirit a little trance. He even heard a trace of disdainful laughter from the bottom of his heart. He shook his head hard and the hallucination disappeared.

"What's the matter?"

Dumbledore frowned at Hoffa.

Hoffa gasped a few times, calmed down and opened his eyes.

"Can... Can we not talk about that first?"

"What do you want to talk about?"

"I have some personal questions to ask, professor."

Dumbledore picked up the glass on the table and took a sip.

"You have some personal problems."

"I..."

Hoffa raised his head and was in a trance again.

Although in the past six months, Hoffa has been eager to see Dumbledore and want to talk to him in private. But at the moment of opening his mouth, Hoffa found it a little difficult, not only difficult to describe, but also shy to say."Go ahead, Bach."

Dumbledore crossed his fingers. "I'm listening."

"Professor, I'm... I'm in pain."

Hoffa said with some difficulty.

"Why the pain?" Asked Dumbledore.

"I feel like I have a mental problem."

Hoffa hesitated.

"A mental problem?" Dumbledore was dumb. "How old are you?"

"Yes, I always have nightmares. There is a strange guy in my dream, and I can always see many colorful faces and hear some voices I shouldn't hear. "

"Strange looking guy? Colorful faces, strange voices? "

Dumbledore's eyes widened, his face puzzled.

Hoffa nodded: "also, I'm... I'm not very interested in what my friends do. And the daily work of the school, I think, is a little too mechanical. "

Dumbledore frowned: "what other people ask you to say is your own point of view."

"My own point of view."

Dumbledore surveyed Hoffa with his X-ray like eyes for a moment: "when did it start?"

"Just this year."

"What dreams do you have?"

"Fall off the stairs."

Dumbledore a Leng, the corner of the mouth smoked, "that heard what thing?"

"I don't know. I can't remember."

"Just dreaming?"

"Maybe, I don't know."

Dumbledore sighed and moved the glass from his hand.

"Do you know what I think? Hoffa, I think you're a little bit idle

Hoffa raised his head in amazement, which was not the answer he wanted to hear.

"I also dream that a wizard or a human will be disturbed by the subconscious. Last night, I dreamed that someone gave me a pile of wool socks. But I'll keep myself busy, so busy that I forget these things. "

Dumbledore sighed again: "there is no way for the school at this time. It should be much better after these years."

After a pause, he said, "Hoffa, work hard."

It's like crossing an invisible watershed. One of the strings cracked in the chest.

Dumbledore is close at hand, but it seems to be far away from him. It was clear that Hoffa could see the stains on his reddish brown beard clearly, but he was once again wrapped in strangeness.

Effort...

not enough effort...

is it me who didn't work hard enough...

Dumbledore stood up and patted Hoffa on the shoulder: "it's OK, don't think too much, go back and have a good rest."

Hoffa looked at the palm of his shoulder and the blue eyes under Dumbledore's glasses. His excitement and energy were quickly taken away by the black hole, and he lost interest.

"I see. I see."

He said softly, stood up, turned around, cold face, like a walking piece of frozen beef, no consciousness.

"Wait a minute, Bach."

Dumbledore stopped him.

"What's the matter?"

Holding the door handle, Hoffa tilted his head slightly.

"What did you say about the three roommates at the beginning?"

Hoffa looked at Dumbledore for a moment.

"Nothing. Good night, professor."

Then he left Dumbledore's office.

How he got back to Ravenclaw tower that night, he has forgotten.

All he remembered was a sleepless night when all his roommates disappeared. I sit alone in the room, the cold wind outside the window blows up the curtain, constantly dancing.

In the cold sky, the crescent moon hung high, and some fragments of dialogue flashed through Hoffa's mind.

Thinking too much...

not working hard enough...

the rift between ideal and reality widened again, he closed his eyes, the curtain caressed his face, and the massage was general.

The depth of thinking gradually comes into being, just as God splits a Mariana Trench in his brain, separating the ocean of rationality and sensibility.

He began to understand some difficult things, began to understand the limitations of the wizard, the limitations of human beings.

Everyone in the world is paying attention to their own affairs, fame, honor, resources, society, school, even if they are as smart as Dumbledore, they can't avoid vulgarity.

Human consciousness is an accident in evolution. Without consciousness, life will continue to exist only by instinct. Excessive observation and thinking does not help existence itself.

He shouldn't be. A salmon doesn't want other salmon to know how they feel, because it's meaningless.He should show positive energy, high value, omnipotent toughness and the attitude of a community leader.

Like William, he should control other people's hormone and dopamine secretion, enjoy the happiness of youth, enjoy the opportunities God has given him, and enjoy his position in Hogwarts.

He just needs to make a lot of money, beat a lot of opponents, find a mate like a salmon, lay eggs, copy the DNA, and then die.

But why think so much.

Why is life more and more painful.

Why does all this make him so tired.

He didn't know. He hated himself.

...

...

the next day, Christmas Eve.

He walked out of the dormitory and decided to eat something to support his life.

The ornate hall is unexpectedly desolate. There are few people in the hall that should be lively. Only twos and threes of the students got together and looked around nervously.

There was no one on the teaching staff table.

See Huo FA come over, that a small group of students find the backbone of the general quickly around up.

"Bach, where have you been?"

Some students said in shock.

"All our friends are missing."

This news probably surprised Hoffa by 0.1s, and then he sat down at the table and added a bowl of pumpkin porridge for himself. There is no fluctuation in his heart. If the Ministry of magic comes to close Hogwarts now, he will not struggle.

Someone scratched his ears: "they were still playing chess in the common room. I don't know why, they disappeared."

"I heard someone singing. Listen, the people in my dormitory disappeared..."

"last night, I saw a group of animals running in line from the corridor, watching..."

"shut up."

Hoffa interrupted them coldly.

"I eat."

His indifference surprised the other students, and they were in a hurry and began to babble.

"How can you do that?"

"They are your friends. Please help."

"Yes, Bach, don't be kidding."

"Help us find them quickly."

"You're so good, you can do it with your hands."

Hoffa sat motionless in his seat and did not move at all. The whole person exudes the aura of not being near. Over time, the chatter of persuasion subsided.

The crowd around him gradually dispersed, step by step away from him.

After the disillusionment of expectations, it was replaced by unspeakable disappointment. No one came forward to ask what happened to Hoffa. There are only sharp disappointed eyes like the blade.

The disappointment spread like a plague in the school.

After breakfast, he left the hall.

People who met him took the initiative to bypass him.

He floated in the school, his whole body energy fell to the bottom.

To be honest, he doesn't know where to go now. He feels like a 21st century BB machine.

At this time, he thought of the house on the eighth floor. He wanted to find a place to hide things.

Walking to the tapestry on the eighth floor, the troll in the tapestry holds a stick and dances ballet, looking stupid.

He stands still, time and space rotate.

He coincided with the boy with glasses who stood here 50 years later.

At this moment, he really felt the difference between himself and Harry, which is the most essential difference between Gryffindor and Ravenclaw.

The lion is a social animal, and he will never be. The eagle's inner self makes it difficult for him to move in this school.

He didn't even turn three times, and the strong desire to hide made the smooth door appear. He opened the door of the house where he wanted.

Mottled pillars of light shine on the hills of garbage. Snowflakes float in from the high windows and fall on the top of the mountains of old things, forming white spots.

However, Hoffa's vision did not stay on the forbidden objects accumulated for thousands of years.

In the house, a pair of chestnut eyes were looking at themselves without blinking.

It's the black and white faced cat.

This time he sat on top of his rusty armor guard, as if he had been waiting for Hoffa, with a slight meow.