Quirrell and Voldemort had escaped—but in a sense, it was because Charles had deliberately let them go.
He had actually arrived long ago, merely choosing to watch from the shadows instead of revealing himself. Otherwise, how could his timing have been so impossibly perfect, showing up right at the crucial moment? He could have simply cast a Counter-Disapparition Charm beforehand, but Dumbledore still wanted Quirrell and Voldemort to serve as "experience fodder" for Harry. Naturally, he couldn't allow Charles to finish them off just yet.
"You came just in time, Professor!" Hermione exhaled in relief. When she saw that Killing Curse earlier, she and everyone else had nearly fainted from fright. Thankfully, Charles had appeared right when it mattered most.
In truth, whether Quirrell's Killing Curse would have worked or not was questionable—even if Charles hadn't intervened, Harry wouldn't have died.
After all, hiding within Quirrell's shadow was a Gengar assigned to monitor him.
Charles didn't bother chasing Quirrell and Voldemort. That was Dumbledore's concern now. He turned to look at Harry and the others.
"Are you all right?"
It was a redundant question, really. Just looking at Hagrid's state made it clear he wasn't.
"Maybe broke a few bones, but I'll be fine in a few days," Hagrid said dismissively.
He looked badly battered, but most of it was superficial. The two Centaurs had also been injured and didn't look much better.
Seeing this, Charles immediately threw a Poké Ball.
"Come out, Chansey."
A pink, egg-shaped Pokémon materialized in a flash of light.
Harry and the others were hardly strangers to Chansey—they'd eaten her eggs back when they were confined in the Reserve last term!
"Chansey, use Heal Pulse and Soft-Boiled."
"Chan~"
With a sweet smile, Chansey released rippling waves of rainbow-colored energy. Under their glow, Hagrid's and the Centaurs' wounds began healing before their very eyes.
"Incredible," said Firenze, awestruck.
Such restorative power reminded him of a phoenix's tears—or unicorn's blood.
Chansey then reached into the pouch on her belly and produced egg after egg, handing them to Hagrid and the students.
Hagrid hesitated, afraid he might be about to eat a Pokémon egg that could hatch.
"Chansey's eggs are like chicken eggs—they're nutritious. Don't worry, it's safe," Charles explained.
Harry and the others didn't need more convincing. They eagerly cracked open the eggs and started eating.
In games, a Pokémon's HP was a simple stat—but in reality, things were more complex, akin to stamina, energy, and even PP.
Though uninjured, the kids were utterly exhausted and badly needed the nourishment.
Just then, two shadows descended from the sky—Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall came diving down on broomsticks, panic written all over their faces.
"Thank heavens, you're all safe!"
McGonagall nearly fainted. It wasn't until she spotted Charles that she finally exhaled in relief.
"Professor, what are you doing here?" Harry asked in surprise.
"I ran into Neville Longbottom," McGonagall said, immediately grabbing the three of them and inspecting them head to toe. Only after confirming none were hurt did she release them.
"This was far too dangerous! I should never have allowed you into the Forbidden Forest for detention!" she cried, tears welling up—then seized Charles's hand. "Thank goodness you were here!"
"It's my duty. I'm their teacher too," Charles replied calmly.
"Dumbledore! The poacher got away!" Hagrid blurted out.
He wasn't the sharpest tool in the shed. Even after hearing what Firenze and Harry had said, he still hadn't connected the "poacher" to Voldemort.
Harry wanted to speak up but, remembering how he'd failed to expose Snape, he couldn't bring himself to say it.
"I know," said Dumbledore. "But it's all right. I don't think he'll dare return." He glanced meaningfully at Charles as he spoke.
Though today's events had deviated from his expectations, the overall outcome was still within his grasp.
"It's good to see you again, Ronan, Firenze," Dumbledore greeted the Centaurs warmly.
Among many non-human races, Dumbledore's reputation was sterling. The Centaurs of the Forbidden Forest had, of course, dealt with him before.
"Hello, Dumbledore," said Ronan politely.
"I take it the poacher was tied to Voldemort, wasn't he?" Dumbledore asked, pretending to seek confirmation but really trying to give Harry a hint. Though that hint was unnecessary—Firenze had already said as much.
"Sorry, Dumbledore, we can't say more," Ronan interrupted quickly, afraid Firenze might reveal something else. "Farewell."
Once the Centaurs had departed, Dumbledore led the group back to Hogwarts.
On the way, Hagrid and Harry gave him a full account of what had happened.
"Dumbledore," McGonagall said hesitantly, "you just mentioned the Dark Lord… Do you mean he's truly returned?"
She had long followed Dumbledore's instructions to set up safeguards, but still—it was hard to believe the Dark Lord could rise again.
"Actually, Voldemort never truly died," Dumbledore explained, shaking his head.
"Headmaster, please don't say that name," Ron muttered, shrinking in fear.
Harry, however, hated when people cowered at Voldemort's name. "Ron, there's nothing to be afraid of! Even if Voldemort's alive, he's no match for Professor Gold—let alone now!"
Dumbledore beamed at Harry's courage. Unshakable resolve—that was precisely why he'd chosen this boy as the savior.
"Harry is right. Times have changed. Voldemort's power is gone—otherwise he wouldn't be sneaking around like a coward. Fear only feeds itself."
Their words sounded inspiring enough, but Ron didn't quite share their confidence.
"Here, we must also thank Miss Granger's cleverness," said Dumbledore. "Had she not written to Professor Gold in advance, things might have turned out far worse today. Each of you—Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Neville Longbottom—will earn thirty points for Gryffindor, and Miss Granger will receive an extra ten."
Four people, thirty points each, plus Hermione's bonus—one hundred and thirty points total!
That nearly offset all the points they'd lost earlier, leaving the group overjoyed.
At least this time, Slytherin didn't gain a thing. Serves Malfoy right for running off halfway like a coward.
Ron, meanwhile, was practically bursting with pride, itching to rush back to the Gryffindor common room and boast of his "heroic exploits." More than the points, tonight's adventure would make him a legend—he'd helped repel a dark wizard, perhaps even one of the Dark Lord's servants!
What an honor!
Sure, it had really been Professor Gold who scared off the enemy—but who cared?
I, Ron Weasley, went on a rampage alongside the Professor!
I handled the "rampage" part.
Unfortunately, Professor McGonagall insisted they visit the infirmary for checkups first.
(End of Chapter)