"What are you doing here?"
The moment Charles stepped into Snape's dim, shadowy underground office, the greasy-haired, hook-nosed man immediately pulled a face that screamed unwelcome, as though Charles's very presence ruined his day.
However, Snape's eyes betrayed him—they were fixed squarely on the box of Pokémon materials in Charles's hands.
"Don't you welcome your most talented student?" Charles said lightly. He didn't particularly like Snape, but he didn't hate him either. Snape wasn't a good man by any means, but during these years at Hogwarts, he had indeed refrained from any further wrongdoing.
Perhaps Snape's so-called redemption came entirely because of Lily. If it had been anyone else who died back then, Snape would probably still be chasing after Voldemort's shadow. Still, remorse was remorse—without him, Harry likely wouldn't have been able to defeat Voldemort in the original timeline.
"Heh. With your level of potion-making, you're far from being my most gifted student." Snape's cold, shadowed eyes bore into him. "Now, put it down—then get out."
Charles had to admit, aside from Charms, Transfiguration, and Defense Against the Dark Arts, he was merely above average in other subjects. But in those three? He'd already mastered every seventh-year spell by his second year.
So, while his Potions grades were good, they were nothing compared to his true specialties. Snape was always bitter about that—he thought Charles's decision not to devote himself fully to Potions was a grave mistake.
But to Charles, that was perfectly reasonable. As someone from another world blessed with access to magic, of course he'd pour his energy into spells and magical theory itself.
Frankly, it was already impressive that he hadn't neglected Potions entirely.
"I wouldn't stay here longer than necessary even if you begged," Charles replied coolly. "But you should be more polite to your supplier of rare potion ingredients. And don't forget my payment in Galleons once the potion's done."
He didn't care much for Snape's tone—he'd long since grown used to it.
Right now, Snape was his personal money tree. Once it was confirmed that Pokémon materials—like hair or scales—could indeed be used in potion-brewing, Charles would be set for life.
Selling raw ingredients brought profit, sure, but nowhere near as much as selling the finished product.
And who better to process them than a master like Snape?
Charles was about to leave when Snape's drawling voice stopped him.
"Charles Gold," he said slowly, "whatever your true goal is, I'll be watching you. Don't even think of pulling any tricks."
Charles sighed inwardly. To Snape, his return to Hogwarts must have seemed deeply suspicious. But in truth, all he wanted was the Breeding House that came as a system reward.
And Dumbledore had even thrown in a Nature Reserve as a bonus—who in their right mind would refuse that?
Still, Charles understood why people were wary of him. With his immense talent and Slytherin background, everyone feared he might become the next Dark Lord.
But they were overthinking it. Charles had zero interest in turning into that noseless socket demon.
He'd been sorted into Slytherin purely because the Sorting Hat saw both his talent and his ambition at the time—to become the strongest wizard in the world.
And truth be told, he hadn't disappointed. At only seventeen, his magical power now ranked just below Dumbledore, Voldemort, and Grindelwald.
In combat ability, he might even surpass them—his innate magical resistance made it difficult for lesser wizards to harm him at all.
But now, that old ambition no longer drove him. It wasn't that he'd abandoned it—just that he knew achieving it was inevitable, so he didn't need to chase it.
If he were sorted again today, the Hat would probably put him in Hufflepuff.
After all, the wizarding world wasn't about endless duels and killing. It was about connections, society, and human understanding.
No matter how powerful one was, you couldn't exactly slaughter the entire magical world.
He wasn't some fifth-year hothead, after all.
In short, even if someone did intend to unify the wizarding world, ruling it through fear like that noseless freak was doomed to fail. Charles's vision was to reshape the world through Pokémon instead.
The first step was to etch the very concept of Pokémon into the consciousness of both wizards and Muggles alike.
For Muggles, that meant building a company. For the wizarding world, educating young wizards was just one piece of the puzzle.
After all, Hogwarts's student body was small—insignificant compared to the broader magical community.
The real breakthrough lay in his collaboration with Snape. If they could produce successful potion results, Pokémon-derived materials would become incredibly valuable.
Of course, opening Pokémon Breeding Houses in other countries was also part of the plan—but at the moment, Charles didn't have enough hands for that.
His current idea was to wait until some promising students from the upper years graduated and then hire them as managers to oversee foreign branches.
After leaving Snape's office, Charles headed toward Professor Pomona Sprout's greenhouse, carrying a newly hatched Oddish in his arms.
A few days earlier, Sprout had requested a Pokémon to help her tend to the plants.
Originally, Charles had planned to gift her a Bulbasaur. But right now, the number of starter Pokémon was still too small—each one extremely precious. He'd have to wait until they'd naturally bred enough offspring before giving them away.
Fortunately, one of the first Pokémon species he unlocked included the breeding master itself—the gender-fluid Ditto. There weren't many, but even a few could massively accelerate the growth of the Pokémon population!
"Professor Sprout, I brought you an Oddish," Charles said as he stepped inside.
Sprout beamed, motioning for him to sit, then poured him a cup of tea before turning her attention to the small, leafy creature in his arms.
The Oddish looked shy; when it felt her gaze, it quickly ducked back into Charles's embrace.
"It looks rather like some sort of magical plant," Sprout said in wonder.
"That's one of the hallmarks of Grass-type Pokémon," Charles explained, gently stroking the leaves on Oddish's head. "Many of them share traits with plants—but unlike plants, they can think and act on their own."
He went on, "Oddish, also called the 'Weed Pokémon,' grows by bathing in moonlight. During the day, it burrows underground to escape the sun, absorbing nutrients from the soil. The richer the soil, the glossier its leaves become. It wakes under moonlight, scattering its seeds as it walks—traveling up to three hundred meters before burying itself in fertile ground."
"So it dislikes sunlight?"
"At this stage, yes. And it's somewhat similar to a Mandrake—if you forcefully pull it from the ground, it'll scream. But unlike a Mandrake, its cry isn't dangerous."
"Then it might share some medicinal properties with Mandrakes," Sprout mused. "You know, Mandrakes also have curious reactions to moonlight."
Charles nodded thoughtfully. Indeed, Mandrakes and moonlight were both crucial in the Animagus transformation ritual.
He suddenly wondered—if one used Pokémon materials in that ritual, could it produce a transformation into a Pokémon form?
Perhaps Shedinja could even replace the Chrysalis Moth in the process.
Of course, he wasn't foolish enough to try. If he wanted to become a Pokémon, he could just use one move—Transform. No need to risk his life experimenting.
Attempting Animagus transformation recklessly was incredibly dangerous, after all.
(End of Chapter)