Chapter 130 Successful Outsourcing of Thesis
Charlie raised his hand, signaling everyone to be quiet.
"To achieve this, two conditions are required." He held up two fingers.
"First, extraordinary magic control. Second, extraordinary magic perception."
He walked to the blackboard and wrote explanations under each condition.
"magic control means you can precisely control your magic output, even fine-tuning the vibration frequency of your magic." Charlie tapped the blackboard.
"This requires a lot of practice and cannot be achieved overnight."
"magic perception means you can sense the magic frequency of magical creatures and accurately imitate it." Charlie turned around.
"This requires you to have a sufficient understanding of the target magical creature."
The students below began frantically taking notes.
Hermione's quill was almost smoking.
Everyone was processing this information.
At this moment, Hermione looked up, her hand raised high.
Her eyes were frighteningly bright; she had completely grasped the key point.
"Charlie."
Her voice was filled with excitement.
"According to your theory, if I can adjust my magic frequency, can I imitate different magical creatures?"
She paused, her speech speeding up.
"Like turning into a Dragon today, and another magical creature tomorrow?"
The surrounding students also pricked up their ears; this was indeed a crucial question.
Charlie's lips curved into a smile.
Here it comes, this is the most critical question today.
He turned and wrote several large characters on the blackboard — Principle of Uniqueness.
"Good question, Miss Granger."
Charlie tapped the blackboard.
"But the answer is no."
Hermione froze, her eyes full of confusion.
Charlie continued.
"An ordinary Animagus only has one form, right?"
The students below nodded one after another, and Professor McGonagall also nodded slightly; this was basic Transfiguration knowledge.
"A magical creature Animagus also only has one form."
Charlie drew a circle on the blackboard.
"This form is closely related to your personality, experiences, and even the deepest traits of your soul."
He paused.
"Only when the magic frequency you imitate perfectly matches your unique form can the transformation succeed."
The classroom was silent for a moment.
The students began to process this information.
Ron scratched his head.
"Wait, I'm a bit confused."
He raised his hand.
"Charlie, do you mean that even if I can adjust my magic frequency, I might not be able to turn into a Dragon?"
Charlie nodded.
"Yes, because a Dragon might not be your unique form."
Ron's face fell.
"Then how do I know what my form is?"
Charlie smiled.
"That's the hardest part."
He walked to the blackboard and wrote a few lines under the Principle of Uniqueness.
"You have to try, constantly adjusting your magic frequency to imitate different magical creatures."
The students below looked at each other, and Ernie frowned.
"Isn't that like looking for a needle in a haystack? There are so many magical creatures, how long would that take?"
Charlie felt he was a genius.
Not to mention the difficulty of adjusting magic frequency, if this could be done easily, the Whomping Willow would not be so hard to cultivate.
Even if someone adjusted their magic frequency perfectly but failed to transform, they would only think that the magic frequency did not match their own form.
Professor McGonagall fell into deep thought.
She stared at the theory on the blackboard, a thoughtful look in her eyes.
Although Charlie's theory was novel, it was logically consistent and sounded very reasonable.
Coupled with Charlie's successful transformation into a Dragon, its credibility was directly maximized.
She looked up at Charlie.
"Mr. White."
Professor McGonagall's voice was very serious.
"How did you determine that a Dragon is your unique form?"
Charlie blinked.
That was a good question, and he had already prepared the answer.
"I once had the good fortune to come into contact with a Dragon and could clearly feel its magicfrequency."
"When I tried to imitate it, I found that my magic frequency was highly compatible with the Dragon's frequency."
"When I perfectly imitated the Dragon's magic frequency, I found that I had already transformed into a Dragon."
If anyone questioned how he came into contact with a Dragon, Norbert would be the perfect shield.
Professor McGonagall nodded and did not dwell on where Charlie had encountered the Dragon; her eyes were full of satisfaction.
She stood up, her voice excited.
"Mr. White, your class today has been an eye-opener."
"The Theory of magic Resonance, this will be a major breakthrough in the field of Transfiguration, and even in the entire field of magic."
Warm applause erupted in the classroom.
Charlie nodded to Professor McGonagall.
"Thank you, Professor."
He turned around and looked at the students below.
"That concludes today's class."
Charlie clapped his hands.
"If you want to try the magical creature Animagus, the first step is to improve your magic control and perception."
"This requires a lot of practice and cannot be achieved overnight."
The class ended, and the students in the classroom gradually dispersed.
Some were excited, thinking Charlie's lecture was amazing, wishing they could try it immediately.
Some were bewildered, confused by magic frequencies and resonance theories.
But whether they understood it or not, everyone felt that Charlie had presented something significant.
After all, he had successfully transformed into a Dragon, and that credibility was undeniable.
Charlie was tidying up the parchment on the podium when he caught a glimpse of Hermione preparing to leave.
He cleared his throat.
"Hermione, wait a moment."
Hermione stopped and turned around.
"What is it, Charlie?"
Charlie walked up to her, his expression serious.
"Did you understand everything I taught today?"
Hermione blinked.
"It was very insightful, Charlie, you explained it very clearly."
"Then I hope you can write today's knowledge into an essay."
Hermione froze.
She widened her eyes, completely surprised by Charlie's words.
"Me write an essay on magical creature Animagus?"
"That's right, I believe you can do it."
This was Charlie's purpose for lecturing today.
Friends who often write essays know how mentally exhausting and difficult it is to expand a core theory of a hundred words into a dozens-page essay.
Only someone like Hermione, with excellent grades and who spends all her time in the library, could do such a thing.
Moreover, Hermione had been reliably writing his homework for nearly two years. Charlie was confident entrusting the essay to Hermione.
Hermione was very touched after hearing this.
Why did Charlie assign the essay only to her and not to others?
As the founder of this theory, he must have very rich experience, so writing an essay would be a piece of cake for him.
But why would he still ask her to write the essay?
Of course, it was because he cared for her greatly, wanting her to consolidate her knowledge and learn the magical creature Animagus as soon as possible.
A warm current surged through Hermione's heart.
"Charlie…"
Her voice was a little choked.
"Thank you for trusting me so much."
Charlie blinked; she had to thank him.
Chapter 131 The Room of Requirement
"Your Majesty has committed academic fraud and ghostwritten papers. Congratulations on earning 50 tyrant points!"
Charlie flipped through the system panel.
Total tyrant points: 9873.
He was only 127 points shy of 10,000. Charlie planned to save them up this semester for a big draw, hoping to get some good items.
Days passed.
After the Basilisk incident was completely resolved, Hogwarts returned to its usual tranquility.
Charlie's life also returned to normal.
Sleeping in class, eating after class, and occasionally strolling in the Forbidden Forest.
This laid-back life was incredibly enjoyable, and his tyrant points soared.
A few days later, Charlie's tyrant points broke the 10,000 mark.
"little system, start the draw!"
Countless flashes of light instantly appeared in his mind.
The system began to broadcast frantically.
"Congratulations, Your Majesty, on obtaining: Bicycle Kick proficiency +30!"
"Congratulations, Your Majesty, on obtaining: Expelliarmus proficiency +100!"
"Congratulations, Your Majesty, on obtaining: Sectumsempra proficiency +50!"
"Congratulations, Your Majesty, on obtaining: Apparition!"
"Congratulations, Your Majesty, on obtaining: Cruciatus Curse!"
"Congratulations, Your Majesty, on obtaining: Monarch's Might!"
"Congratulations, Your Majesty, on obtaining: Free Talent Points +4!"
The series of notifications made Charlie very satisfied.
Ten minutes later, all the tyrant points were used up, and Charlie opened his panel.
"Your Majesty: Charlie White"
"Age: 12 years old"
"magic Talent Rating: (Max Level 10)"
"Transfiguration: 10"
"Charms: 10"
"Potions: 9"
"Defense Against the Dark Arts: 7"
"Herbology: 7"
"Astronomy: 4"
"History of Magic: 5"
"tyrant points: 0"
"Free Talent Points: 4"
"Mastered Spells: Transfiguration (Level 4: 500/5000), Incendio (Level 4: 1350/5000), Stupefy (Level 4: 1210/5000), Protego (Level 4: (980/5000)), Expecto Patronum (Level 4: 0/5000), Sectumsempra (Level 4: 10/1000)..."
Almost all his Spells had reached Level 4, unlocking silent and wandless casting.
Not only that, but he also drew Apparition, which Charlie had been longing for. Coupled with the authority given by Dumbledore, he could now go anywhere he wanted.
However, Charlie also noticed a term he had never heard of: Monarch's Might.
"little system, what is this?"
"Reporting to Your Majesty, this is Your Majesty's exclusive skill as the true Son of Heaven. Monarch's Might cannot be looked at directly. When Your Majesty releases the skill, it will make the opponent feel awe, and weaker individuals may even faint on the spot."
Understood, it's like Conqueror's Haki.
In addition to these Spells, Charlie also gained four talent points. He maxed out Potions to avoid his obsessive-compulsive disorder making him uncomfortable, and saved the other talent points for a rainy day.
As for the Cruciatus Curse, it was better than nothing for Charlie.
Perhaps the Cruciatus Curse struck directly at the soul, with astonishing tormenting effects, but the Ten Great Tortures of the Qing Dynasty that Charlie knew might not be inferior to it; it just meant it was more convenient and handy.
Charlie raised his hand, and with a thought.
"Expelliarmus."
Before he finished speaking, a red light shot from his fingertip, directly blasting the water glass on the bedside table.
The water glass tumbled in the air, then smashed against the wall with a bang.
Charlie was not satisfied with this performance; he couldn't go all out in the dormitory.
Charlie stood up, wondering where to try out his new skills.
The Forbidden Forest?
Not quite suitable.
His Spells had already reached Level 4. If he went all out, Charlie worried that the entire Forbidden Forest would be ruined.
Charlie frowned, and an idea suddenly popped into his head.
As a professional school of magic, Hogwarts should have a dedicated place for practice, right?
Like the Chamber of Secrets, a place that always existed but was unknown to others.
He thought of Billy.
House-elves cleaned Hogwarts every day and definitely knew the school better than anyone.
Charlie took a deep breath and concentrated.
Apparition.
The next second, his figure vanished from the dormitory.
The kitchen.
Charlie's figure suddenly appeared amidst a pile of pots and pans.
All the surrounding House-elves were stunned.
A House-elf wiping a plate was so startled that he dropped it, and it shattered on the floor.
Billy was directing other House-elves to prepare dinner when he suddenly saw Charlie appear, and he was completely bewildered.
His already large eyes widened.
"Ch-Charlie?"
Billy stammered, his voice full of shock.
"Why can you Apparate in the school?"
"Are you a House-elf too?"
Charlie: ?
Never mind, he wouldn't argue with this little fool.
He explained helplessly.
"Don't be nervous, Billy."
"This is a privilege Headmaster Dumbledore gave me."
Billy immediately relaxed upon hearing this, not doubting Charlie's words in the slightest.
He patted his chest and said excitedly, "So that's how it is!"
"Headmaster Dumbledore is truly too generous!"
"Mr. Charlie must be very powerful to gain the Principal's favor!"
Charlie smiled but said nothing.
He walked up to Billy and whispered, "I came to ask you something."
"Is there any place at Hogwarts suitable for practicing magic?"
"A place that's relatively spacious and where I don't have to worry about causing damage."
Billy scratched his head, thinking.
"Practicing magic?"
"Yes," Charlie said, "I've learned some new things recently and want to try them out."
Billy's eyes lit up.
"There is!"
"There's a room on the eighth floor that we call the Room of Requirement."
"It can transform into anything you want. When we're tired, we often rest there, and it will conjure soft beds."
"Just walk past the wall three times, thinking about what you need, and a door will appear."
Charlie raised an eyebrow.
Room of Requirement? Is it real?
"Where is it?"
"The eighth-floor corridor, opposite the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy being clubbed by Trolls," Billy said in detail.
"Mr. Charlie will know when he gets there."
Charlie nodded.
"Thank you, Billy."
Charlie had a vague impression of that place, having seen it during his night escapades, so he Apparated directly in front of the tapestry.
The tapestry was very conspicuous, but it didn't look like it hid a room behind it.
Charlie stood opposite the tapestry, staring at the blank wall.
He thought to himself: I need an internet café with a 5090 graphics card and a 32-inch 4K ultra-high refresh rate monitor.
If Charlie missed anything most in the magical world, it was gaming. He hadn't touched a keyboard in so long, and he was itching to play.
He walked back and forth three times.
After the third pass, a door suddenly appeared on the wall.
The door was made of wood and looked very ordinary.
Charlie pushed the door open with anticipation and walked inside.
Chapter 132 Experimental Curse (×) Setting the House on Fire (√)
The moment Charlie pushed open the door, he froze.
The sight before him made him wonder if he had traveled back in time.
Rows of brand-new computer desks were neatly arranged, and 32-inch 4K monitors gleamed with a faint blue light under the illumination.
Inside the transparent side panel of the computer case, RGB light strips flashed wildly, looking incredibly cool.
Gaming chairs, mechanical keyboards, professional mouse pads, and even the decorative posters on the wall were exactly like those in the internet cafes from his memory.
Charlie's heart rate suddenly accelerated.
He quickly walked to the nearest computer and pressed the power button.
However, nothing happened.
The monitor was pitch black, and the RGB light strips in the case didn't light up.
Charlie paused, pressed it a few more times, but still got no response.
He sighed, having to accept reality.
Although this room could materialize what was desired, it was also limited by human and temporal understanding.
In this era, those high-performance graphics cards and monitors didn't exist.
Charlie also had no understanding of internal structures like chips, so naturally, he could only materialize an empty shell.
It seemed he would have to wait more than twenty years to play games.
He turned and walked out of the room, the door closing automatically behind him.
Charlie stood opposite the portrait, re-imagining a spacious training ground in his mind.
It needed to be large enough, high enough, and able to withstand his Spell bombardment.
He pushed open the door, and the scene instantly switched.
The training ground was absurdly large.
It stretched out of sight, with a floor paved with hard flagstones, and dummy targets standing all around.
These targets were densely packed, arranged in rows from near to far.
Charlie looked up; the ceiling was impossibly high, at least a dozen meters.
He nodded in satisfaction; this should be enough to let him have his fill.
Charlie stretched his wrists, preparing to test the intensity of silent, wandless casting and how different it was from using a wand.
He raised his right hand, and with a thought,
A crimson beam shot from his fingertip.
Boom!
The dummy target was instantly blasted into pieces, and the shockwave of the explosion swept out, tearing apart nearby targets as well, flipping over all targets within dozens of meters.
A huge crater was blown into the ground, debris flew, and the entire room shook.
Charlie quickly looked up at the ceiling, afraid the building would collapse.
Fortunately, the walls and ceiling remained motionless; it seemed this room was indeed sturdy enough.
A smile tugged at the corner of Charlie's mouth, very satisfied with this power.
As expected of a Level 4 Spell, its destructive power was maximized.
This was only silent, wandless casting, and its power was somewhat inferior to the full-power version.
Charlie picked up his wand, intending to try the complete Spell.
But 'Exploding Charm' was out of the question; Charlie feared the Room of Requirement couldn't withstand it.
This time, he chose the Spell he was most proficient with—Incendio.
With a gentle flick of his wand,
"Incendio!"
Flames surged from the wand tip.
In an instant, they became a towering inferno.
Immediately, the entire training ground was illuminated by the fire.
The flames advanced furiously, devouring all the dummy targets.
The targets burned, twisted, deformed in the flames, and finally turned to ash.
The fire grew fiercer and fiercer, the temperature terrifyingly high, like a giant dragon rampaging through the training ground.
The entire training ground, from top to bottom, became a sea of fire.
As far as the eye could see, there were only raging flames.
Charlie squinted, a smile playing on his lips.
This was the power he wanted.
Charlie waved his wand, and the flames slowly extinguished.
All the dummy targets in the training ground were burned to ashes, and the ground was scorched black.
[Your Majesty almost blew up a thousand-year-old relic of the school, tyrant points + 20]
Charlie opened the door and left, satisfied... In the Principal's office, Professor Dumbledore sat in his chair, gently stroking Fawkes on his perch.
The newly reborn Phoenix was wrinkled all over, like a newborn chick, incredibly ugly.
But Professor Dumbledore still patiently stroked its feathers, humming a tune.
"Fawkes, your rebirth this time was much faster than last time."
He said with a smile.
Fawkes chirped, its voice very tender.
Professor Dumbledore was about to feed it something when he suddenly froze.
His expression instantly turned solemn.
A massive magical fluctuation emanated from the eighth floor; the magic was terrifyingly strong and violently oscillating, which for an ordinary Wizard, was completely on the verge of being out of control.
As the Principal of Hogwarts, Professor Dumbledore had a special connection with the Castle.
He could sense unusual changes within the Castle.
This fluctuation was simply too strong, so strong that it made his heart skip a beat.
Not only because of this powerful magical fluctuation but also because it appeared in Hogwartswithout any warning.
It was as terrifying as suddenly finding a strawberry tart in the toilet, but knowing neither he nor his family had put it there.
Professor Dumbledore stood up, his wand appearing in his hand.
He didn't hesitate, disappearing directly from the office.
The next second, he appeared in the corridor on the eighth floor.
The corridor was quiet, with a portrait of a Troll hitting Barnaby the Barmy hanging on the wall.
But Professor Dumbledore knew that behind the portrait, the Room of Requirement was hidden.
And the terrifying magical fluctuation just now had come from inside it.
Professor Dumbledore frowned.
He knew about the Room of Requirement; this room had existed in Hogwarts for over a thousand years, extremely hidden, and he himself only discovered it by chance after becoming Principal.
But this room had always been safe, never having any problems.
What was wrong today? Had some Dark Wizard broken in?
Professor Dumbledore was about to push the door open and go in to see.
The door suddenly opened from the inside.
Charlie walked out of the door, a satisfied smile still on his face.
He seemed to be in a good mood, as if he had just finished something very satisfying.
Then he looked up and saw Professor Dumbledore.
The two looked at each other for a second.
Charlie froze.
Professor Dumbledore also froze.
The atmosphere was a bit awkward.
Professor Dumbledore's gaze passed over Charlie and fell into the room behind him.
In that instant, Professor Dumbledore's pupils sharply constricted.
What did he see?
Ruins.
A complete and utter ruin.
The entire training ground was scorched black, and the ground was full of huge craters from explosions.
Everything that was originally in the room was gone, leaving only ashes and rubble everywhere.
There were still traces of Spell bombardment on the ceiling, and the walls were also pitted and scarred by explosions.
The scene was almost as if it had just gone through a war.
Professor Dumbledore's mind was a bit slow to process.
He had lived for over a hundred years and seen many scenes; he had witnessed even more ruined places than this.
But seeing a harmless second-year student standing in front of these ruins was a first.
Did Charlie cause these ruins? Why? Was he under too much academic pressure?
His gaze returned to Charlie.
Charlie was scratching his head, an awkward smile on his face.
"Hi, Professor Dumbledore."
Charlie let out a dry laugh.
"Why are you here?"
Professor Dumbledore was silent for a moment.
"Charlie."
His voice was calm, but his eyes held complexity.
"I know you're under a lot of academic pressure. If you have stress, you can tell a Professor, but why blow up the school?"
Charlie blinked, then turned to look at the ruins behind him.
"Oh, that? Professor, you've misunderstood."
He scratched his head.
"I was experimenting with Spells."
Professor Dumbledore: "..."
Experimenting with Spells? You call this experimenting with Spells?
Chapter 133 The Academy Cup is Stolen Again
The final exams arrived faster than Charlie had imagined.
Before they knew it, June was here.
Hogwarts students, pale-faced, scurried around with textbooks.
The library was packed, every corner seat taken, so latecomers could only study in the Great Hall.
Hermione spent every day in the library, wishing she could cram all the books into her brain.
Charlie found it quite strange; with Hermione's personality, it was unlikely she would only start revising at the last minute. Could something have delayed her?
How odd, but it probably has nothing to do with me, right?
Ron sat in the Great Hall, looking at his thick notebook with a worried expression.
"Oh my God, what did I even learn this semester?" He flipped through the notes Hermione lent him, his head aching.
"Why is there so much to memorize for Potions?"
Charlie sat beside him, holding a History of Magic Class textbook.
The book was open, but his eyes were already closed.
His breathing was even; he was sound asleep.
Ron glanced at him and rolled his eyes.
"You're certainly relaxed."
Hermione returned from the library and, seeing Charlie sleeping so soundly, was furious.
She was so angry; she was slaving away on her essays, and after finishing them, she still had to study for the final exams, while Charlie was here, snoring away.
She walked over, raised her hand, and slapped it down on Charlie's book.
Charlie opened his eyes, his gaze hazy.
"What?"
Hermione stood with her hands on her hips, glaring at him.
"Exams are almost here, and you can still sleep?"
Charlie yawned.
"Why wouldn't I be able to sleep?"
Hermione was so annoyed her teeth ached, but there was nothing she could do; he had good grades.
On the day of the exams, Charlie was his usual self.
He passed all the main courses perfectly, and the Professors gave him full marks without hesitation.
Even Professor Snape couldn't find fault with the Potion Charlie brewed.
Even in History of Magic, Charlie performed steadily, keeping his exam paper clean and tidy, not letting his handwriting smudge the pristine sheet.
A week after the exams, the entire Hogwarts seemed to explode.
Students, who had been tormented by the final exams, collectively entered a mode of retaliatory revelry.
The corridors were filled with students chasing and playing, laughter echoed in the Great Hall, and even the library became a sanctuary for young couples on dates.
When two people started talking, they became intense, lost in the moment, their bodies drawing closer, their voices growing louder.
Madam Pince's face turned green with anger, and she went around shooing people away with her feather duster.
Filch, even more bitter and resentful, swept the messy corridors with his broom; people's joy was not his, he only found them noisy.
"Don't let me catch who it is, or you'll be in for it!"
Madam Norris squatted at his feet, wagging her tail, as if comforting him.
Professor Sprout had successfully cultivated the Mandrake, and Professor Snape immediately prepared the petrification antidote, which is how Madam Norris was finally de-petrified.
Filch sighed and continued to mop the floor.
Before they knew it, it was time for the end-of-year feast.
That evening, the Great Hall was brightly decorated.
The four long tables were laden with sumptuous food.
Students sat at their respective long tables, their faces full of anticipation.
Huge banners, embroidered with the Slytherin crest, hung on the walls of the Great Hall.
Green and silver decorations filled the entire Great Hall, making it exceptionally dazzling.
The Slytherin students were all beaming with joy.
As expected, the House Cup was theirs again this year.
After all, with Snape around, he made every effort to earn points for his own House and deduct points from the other Houses.
Draco sat at the Slytherin long table, provocatively raising his eyebrows at Harry.
This made Harry want to punch him twice.
At this moment, Dumbledore stood at the teachers' table and clapped his hands.
The noise in the Great Hall gradually subsided.
Everyone looked at him.
"Students," Dumbledore said with a smile.
"Another year has passed."
"Before I award the House Cup, I have something to announce."
Upon hearing this, the Slytherin students' faces instantly changed.
Draco's smile froze on his face, and his heart sank.
This scene was so familiar.
It was the same last year; Dumbledore added points to Hufflepuff at the last minute, snatching away the House Cup.
It couldn't be happening again this year, could it?
The other Slytherin students also became nervous, filled with an ominous premonition.
Dumbledore continued.
"This year, a student has made an outstanding contribution to Hogwarts."
"He bravely faced danger, found the Dark Arts objects that had infiltrated the school, killed the Basiliskin the Chamber of Secrets, and protected the safety of all his fellow students."
The Great Hall instantly fell silent.
Everyone held their breath.
Dumbledore's gaze fell on Charlie.
"In view of Charlie White's heroic performance," Dumbledore's voice became solemn.
"I have decided to award him the Outstanding Contribution to the School Award."
"And to award Hufflepuff House 200 points."
As soon as he finished speaking, a deafening cheer erupted in the Great Hall.
All the Hufflepuff students jumped to their feet.
"Charlie! Charlie! Charlie!"
They wildly chanted Charlie's name, their voices shaking the ceiling of the Great Hall.
Ernie's face turned red with excitement, and he rushed over to hug Charlie.
"Two consecutive wins! We've won two in a row!"
The other Hufflepuff students also gathered around, surrounding Charlie.
Over at the Slytherin long table, they were once again utterly defeated.
Seriously, couldn't these points have been added earlier? If you had added them earlier, our Professorcould have manipulated things!
Why wait until the night of the House Cup to add them? Who are you trying to guard against?
But soon, the Slytherin students also lost their temper.
Although they were sad, they had to admit that Charlie had indeed saved them.
If the Basilisk had appeared before them that day, they would probably all have been doomed.
So, Charlie truly deserved these 200 points, and only he was worthy of the House Cup this semester.
The banners on the walls of the Great Hall began to change.
Slytherin's green and silver slowly faded, replaced by Hufflepuff's yellow and black.
Hufflepuff's badger crest shone on the walls.
Chapter 134 Charlie's Birthday, Harry Comes to Join
After the feast, Charlie packed his luggage, preparing to return to the Orphanage.
He sat in the compartment of the Hogwarts Express, watching the scenery flash by outside the window.
Hermione was buried in a thick Transfiguration textbook, studying intently, taking notes as she read.
Charlie greatly admired such a hardworking little girl—this was the true attitude for academic pursuit!
Considering how hard Hermione was working on her thesis, he decided not to give her summer homework; he would give it to Ernie instead.
The train slowly pulled into King's Cross Station.
Charlie picked up his suitcase and bid farewell to everyone.
"Happy holidays," he waved, walked out of the station, hailed a taxi, and returned to the Orphanage.
Grandma White was already waiting outside; when she saw Charlie, a smile appeared on her face, and she reached out to take Charlie's luggage.
"You must be tired from the journey, quickly go upstairs and rest; dinner will be ready soon."
Charlie also smiled knowingly, but he did not let Grandma White carry his luggage.
"Thank you, Grandma, I can manage it myself."
Charlie was having a wonderful time at the Orphanage.
Every day, he slept until he woke up naturally, Apparated wherever he wanted to play, played all day, and then Apparated back, so Grandma White wouldn't worry too much.
Occasionally, he exchanged letters with his friends, living a life that couldn't be more pleasant.
A certain little girl frantically working on her thesis and homework: "You're awesome, you're great; I write homework, you get holidays."
Ron's family won a big prize, and the whole family went on a trip to Egypt.
His letters were filled with excitement.
According to him, he saw Wizards in Egypt, and their Spells were a bit different from those of Wizards in Britain, but Ron still felt that British Wizards were more powerful.
He also bought a new wand, using the ten Galleons Charlie had given him.
Good heavens, his old wand could finally retire.
Although Ron used his own little stash to buy the wand, the seven hundred Galleons his family won were still almost all spent.
Charlie's mouth twitched when he read this.
No wonder Ron's family couldn't save money; it turned out they were all living paycheck to paycheck. If you're not poor, who is?
Hermione also sent a letter.
"Charlie, I went to France with my parents."
"To be honest, France is very boring. I can't use magic outside of school, I really envy Ron; he can learn local specialty Spells in Egypt."
Ron almost spat blood when he saw this letter.
I'm out having fun, and you want me to learn Spells? Are you a devil?
Only Harry rarely joined the group chat.
He seemed to be restricted from using his Owl, sending very few letters.
Occasionally, a letter would arrive, with a hint of helplessness between the lines.
On July 31st, Harry's birthday.
Charlie sent him a birthday card and included a photo of Harry from a Quidditch match.
However, Charlie didn't receive a reply from Harry, probably because his aunt and uncle wouldn't let him send letters.
A few more days passed, and on August 7th, it was Charlie's birthday.
Early in the morning, Owls began frantically tapping on the window.
Charlie opened the window, and over a dozen Owls rushed in.
Gifts and cards piled up on the table.
Ron sent a box of Egyptian candies, with a card attached: Happy birthday, I bought these in Egypt, they're super delicious.
Hermione sent a pair of sunglasses bought in France; Charlie looked quite good wearing them.
Ernie sent Charlie all of his homework; only half of the summer had passed, and he had already finished it all.
Now that's what you call efficiency!
Justin sent another magazine, but this time it was no ordinary magazine; Justin used developing fluid to make the big sisters on it move.
Charlie stared at it for a couple of seconds, then put it in a box, intending to thoroughly critique it later that night.
Harry also sent a letter, along with a small figurine that looked like Charlie; it seemed Harry had carved it himself.
"Charlie, Happy Birthday. Thank you for the photo you sent me. I secretly let Hedwig out, I hope I wasn't discovered."
"Don't dislike my gift; they won't let me go out, so I could only make it myself."
Charlie smiled after reading the letter.
He picked up his quill and wrote replies to everyone.
After delivering this stack of letters, Storm was quite exhausted; he lay on the windowsill, not wanting to move his wings.
Charlie ruffled the feathers on his head, wondering aloud.
"Why are you getting weaker and weaker?"
Two days later, at night.
Charlie squatted by the windowsill, holding meat pellets and feeding them one by one into Storm's mouth.
These meat pellets were specially made by him with goji berries and beef. He wasn't sure if goji berries could boost a bird's health.
Storm ate happily, his eyes narrowed into slits.
Charlie rubbed his head.
"I must give you a good boost; you must have been exhausted lately."
Storm chirped and flapped his wings against Charlie's hand, expressing gratitude.
Charlie was about to go back to bed when a shrill braking sound suddenly came from outside the window.
He paused for a moment. Who was slamming on the brakes in the middle of the night?
Charlie walked to the window and looked out, instantly freezing.
A purple double-decker bus was parked outside the Orphanage.
Its enormous body glowed faintly under the moonlight, and dim yellow light emanated from its windows.
The bus was ridiculously tall, estimated to be about three stories high.
But the most bizarre thing was that the pedestrians on the street all ignored it, as if they couldn't see the bus at all.
The next second, the bus suddenly turned into a phantom and sped away into the distance.
Charlie narrowed his eyes.
A magical creation, and it came specifically here, looking for him?
Charlie grabbed his wand, pushed open the window, and jumped down.
It was quiet outside the Orphanage, with only the streetlights glowing dimly.
As Charlie approached the entrance, he saw a slender figure standing on the street corner.
The person was dragging a heavy suitcase, their back to him, shoulders slumped.
Charlie took two steps closer.
"Harry?"
The person spun around abruptly, and it was indeed Harry.
His hair was messy, his face covered in dust, and his glasses were askew; he looked like he had just escaped from something.
When Harry saw Charlie, his eyes instantly lit up.
"Charlie!"
Charlie looked him up and down.
"What happened?"
Harry opened his mouth, a hint of embarrassment flashing across his face.
He lowered his head, his voice very soft: "I... I blew up my aunt into a balloon."
Charlie raised an eyebrow; the young man was quite creative.
"My aunt kept badmouthing my parents," Harry looked up, a hint of grievance in his eyes.
"I couldn't hold back and accidentally blew her up into a balloon, and she floated to the ceiling."
"And then?"
"Then I ran away from home," Harry bit his lip.
"I illegally used magic, and the Ministry of Magic might expel me."
He paused, his voice even softer.
"I have nowhere to go now, so I could only come to you."
Charlie sighed.
"Come in."
Harry quickly dragged his suitcase and followed.
As the two reached the door, footsteps suddenly sounded on the stairs.
Grandma White came down in her pajamas, holding an oil lamp.
Elderly people are light sleepers, so she most likely heard Charlie's footsteps.
She saw Charlie and Harry and paused.
"Charlie? Why aren't you asleep so late?"
Charlie pointed to Harry.
"Grandma, this is my classmate, Harry Potter; he's run into some difficulties."
Grandma White looked at Harry, a gentle smile appearing on her face.
"Oh, so it's Charlie's classmate. Come in and sit."
She turned and walked into the kitchen, soon returning with a plate of biscuits and a glass of milk.
"Child, you must be hungry, right? Have something to eat first."
Harry took the milk, his eyes a little red.
"Thank you."
Charlie looked at Grandma White.
"Grandma, are there any empty rooms? Let Harry stay here for a while."
Grandma White didn't ask further, just nodded.
"There's an empty room on the second floor; I'll go make the bed for you."
She turned and went upstairs, her footsteps gradually fading away.
Harry watched Grandma White's retreating figure, his voice choked.
"Charlie, thank you."
Charlie waved his hand.
"Don't mention it, we're buddies."
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Violent knocking suddenly sounded at the door.
Charlie frowned.
Why is it so lively tonight?
He walked over and pulled open the door.
Standing outside the door was a short, plump woman in a pink dress.
Chapter 135 The Arrogant Umbridge
The woman outside the door walked in unceremoniously.
She looked around, her gaze stopping on Harry.
"Harry Potter, you're here."
Harry's heart skipped a beat, and he bravely stepped forward.
The woman's face was round and pale, her lips thin as blades, and her smile was unsettling.
She wore a pink suit with a brooch pinned to her collar.
"I am the Senior Undersecretary to the Minister for magic, Dolores Umbridge." Her voice was high-pitched, with a saccharine artificiality.
"By Minister Fudge's order, I'm taking you back."
Harry was stunned: "Back to my aunt's house?"
"No, no, no." Umbridge shook her head.
"The Ministry of Magic will arrange your accommodation."
"Why?" Harry asked, confused.
The smile on Umbridge's face didn't change: "You don't need to know these things, just obey."
Charlie listened from the side, his brows furrowed.
"How do you prove you're from the Ministry of Magic?"
Umbridge turned to look at him, a flicker of displeasure in her eyes.
"Charlie White, isn't it? I recognize you, the youngest Potions Master. Oh, famous at a young age, but you must remember, you are just a student."
"I don't need to prove anything to you."
At this moment, footsteps were heard from upstairs.
Grandma White came down, holding a set of pajamas Charlie had outgrown.
By the size, they seemed to be for Harry.
"The bed's made, you two go up and rest."
Umbridge saw Grandma White and her brows furrowed tightly. She drew her wand, raising her hand to cast a Spell.
Charlie's face instantly turned cold.
"Expelliarmus!"
A red light shot from his fingertips.
Bang!
Umbridge was blasted backward, hitting the wall, her wand flying out of her hand and landing in Charlie's hand.
[The foolish monarch assaulted a court official during court recess, tyrant points +20]
She slumped to the ground in pain, her eyes filled with terror.
"You… you're mad! I'm the Senior Undersecretary to the Minister for magic! How dare you attack me!" Her voice was trembling.
"Minister Fudge won't let you get away with this!"
Charlie walked up to her, his wand pressed against her forehead.
His eyes were terrifyingly cold.
"Give me a reason." His voice was soft, but every word carried murderous intent.
"And pray that reason can buy your life."
Umbridge's face turned pale with fright.
"I… I just wanted to use a Memory Charm on her." She stammered.
"Harry's information is top secret now, Muggles cannot know."
Charlie frowned. "What top secret?"
Umbridge dared not conceal anything this time; the words tumbled out like beans.
"A criminal has escaped from Azkaban, named Sirius Black." Her voice trembled.
"He was Lord Voldemort's most loyal servant, imprisoned in Azkaban twelve years ago, and now he has escaped."
"The Ministry of Magic believes his target is Harry Potter."
Charlie stared at her coldly. "Why?"
"Because Harry defeated You-Know-Who." Umbridge swallowed.
"Black wants revenge for his master. The Ministry of Magic has decided to protect Harry, so they sent me to pick him up."
Charlie's expression grew even more grim.
If Sirius's target really was Harry, then the Orphanage was now in danger.
Harry had already been here; that madman might very well track him here and attack Grandma White.
Charlie turned and helped the still-shaken Grandma White upstairs.
"Grandma, please rest first. I'll handle the rest."
Grandma White looked at him, her eyes filled with worry.
She knew Charlie was no longer an ordinary person at this point. For these magical matters, she couldn't offer help and had to trust Charlie.
"Charlie, don't do anything reckless."
"Don't worry, Grandma." Charlie smiled.
"I know what I'm doing."
Once Grandma White returned to her room, Harry came over, his face full of guilt.
"I'm sorry, Charlie." He lowered his head.
"I didn't know I'd cause you so much trouble. If I had known, I wouldn't have come to find you."
Charlie patted his shoulder.
"This has nothing to do with you."
Then he turned to look at Umbridge.
She had calmed down by now, swallowed, and put on that bureaucratic expression again.
"Mr. White." Her voice lacked some confidence, but the Ministry of Magic seemed to give her a bit of courage.
"I can overlook your attack on a Senior Undersecretary to the Ministry of Magic, but the Muggle's memory must be erased. This is the Minister's order."
Charlie said nothing, just waved his wand.
"Levicorpus."
Umbridge was hoisted upside down, hanging from the ceiling by her ankle.
She gasped, opening her mouth as if to say something.
"Silencio."
Charlie didn't want to hear her noisy voice and simply made her shut up.
Her voice instantly vanished, her mouth wide open, but unable to make any sound.
Charlie looked up at her, his voice cold.
"You should be glad your Spell didn't work, otherwise you'd be dead."
"Now pray, pray that Fudge gets here before you're hanged."
Umbridge's face turned beet red, her eyes wide.
She never expected Charlie to dare attack an official of the Ministry of Magic.
Harry stood at the top of the stairs, swallowing.
It was the first time he'd seen Charlie so enraged.
Charlie sat back on the sofa, closing his eyes to rest. This matter wasn't over; the Ministry of Magic, not seeing Umbridge return, would surely send more people.
Not long after, several Apparition cracks sounded outside.
Charlie opened his eyes.
The Orphanage gate was open; five Ministry of Magic employees in uniform stood outside, all holding wands.
They saw the inverted Umbridge through the gate, their faces changing drastically.
"Mr. White, what happened here?"
The leader had seen Charlie at a Ministry of Magic awards ceremony and had intended to ask Charliewhat had happened.
But seeing Charlie's cold eyes, he immediately felt uneasy; those were not friendly eyes.
"I did it." Charlie didn't hide it at all.
The man was stunned for a moment.
"Why?"
"You can't make decisions. Go back and tell Fudge to come."
Displeasure at being underestimated flashed in the eyes of the five, and the leader said in a deep voice.
"Although you are a Potions Master, you cannot attack a key Ministry of Magic official. If you're sensible, quickly put the Undersecretary down."
"What if I say no?"
The man scoffed. In his opinion, while Charlie was famous, his fame was all in Potions.
In a fight, could he possibly beat all five of them?
"Then don't blame us for being impolite."
They pulled out their wands and swarmed forward.
A moment later, four more hanging sausages appeared on the ceiling.
This was the disadvantage of having no students at Hogwarts in the family. If there were children in the family at Hogwarts, they wouldn't dare to lay a hand on Charlie.
The remaining person fell to the ground, scared out of his wits.
"Go back and tell Fudge." Charlie's voice was very soft.
"Tell him to come himself."
The man scrambled away.
Time came to the middle of the night.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
A series of Apparition sounds rang out.
Fudge appeared on the street with a dozen Aurors.
He saw the people hanging there, his face ashen.
"Mr. White!" he roared.
"Do you know what you're doing?"
The Aurors all drew their wands, pointing them at Charlie.
They only waited for Fudge's command to act.
Chapter 136 The Ministry of Magic's Promise
Charlie stood still, his expression terrifyingly calm.
He looked up, his gaze sweeping over the dozen or so wands, ensuring he could counter them before they acted, then looked at Fudge.
"Mr. Minister."
"Is it the Ministry of Magic's dereliction of duty that a fugitive escaped from Azkaban?"
Fudge's face instantly flushed red. He took a deep breath, suppressing the anger in his heart.
"Don't think that just because you're exceptionally gifted and have some power, you can do whatever you want. The Ministry of Magic will not tolerate your behavior."
"If you dare to attack the Ministry of Magic, Dumbledore won't let you off either."
Charlie chuckled. The Ministry of Magic only knew how to use Dumbledore's name.
"Don't ramble."
"I'm asking you a question now."
Charlie didn't back down.
He took two steps forward, standing at the doorway, moonlight falling on him, half his face illuminated, half hidden in shadow.
"Because of your Ministry of Magic's dereliction of duty."
His voice was chillingly cold.
"My friends and my family were put in danger."
"And your Undersecretary."
He raised his hand and pointed at Umbridge, who was still struggling on the ceiling.
"Even wanted to erase my family's memories."
"Are you bullying me because I'm young?"
At these words, Fudge froze.
He turned to look at Umbridge, anger flashing in his eyes.
This idiot, how could she mess up such a small matter so badly.
Having been in the Ministry of Magic for so many years, Fudge was best at reading people's expressions.
He could tell that Charlie was truly angry.
And Charlie was right.
Sirius's escape was indeed a dereliction of duty by the Ministry of Magic.
Umbridge wanting to use a Memory Charm on Muggles, while compliant with regulations, didn't consider the situation or who the target was.
One must know, Charlie was no ordinary Little Wizards.
He was a Potions Master, and now the pioneer of the Dragon Animagus, a person destined to found his own school of thought in the future.
More importantly, Fudge knew everything he had done at school.
Quirrell in first year, the Basilisk in the Chamber of Secrets in second year, these were all solved by Charlie.
It was just that because these matters were all related to the person whose name cannot be spoken, Fudge suppressed them all, allowing these incidents to only spread among the students' parents.
But he knew very well that Charlie's strength was definitely not as simple as it appeared on the surface.
Such a Wizard would surely become another Dumbledore-like figure in the future.
If he really angered him, the Aurors brought today might not be enough.
If it weren't for tonight's incident involving an attack on the Ministry of Magic, he wouldn't have wanted to come at all.
Fudge's expression changed repeatedly.
Finally, he sighed, his tone softening.
"Mr. White." He forced a smile.
"This is all a misunderstanding."
Charlie interrupted him: "I hate it when people point wands at me."
His voice was very soft, but every word carried a chill.
Fudge's heart skipped a beat. He quickly turned around and waved at the Aurors behind him.
"Put them down, quickly put them down!"
The Aurors looked at each other, but still obeyed the order, slowly lowering their wands.
Fudge wiped the sweat from his forehead.
He knew that this matter had to be handled well today.
Offending Charlie was definitely not a wise choice. On the contrary, if he could become friends with Charlie, his influence would grow after he graduated, which would also benefit him.
"Mr. White." Fudge's tone became gentle.
"This is the Ministry of Magic's mistake."
"I hope you won't take it to heart."
"Give Umbridge and the Ministry of Magic a chance to make amends."
Charlie didn't speak, just watched him quietly.
Fudge felt uneasy under his gaze.
"I hope my family's safety is guaranteed." Charlie finally spoke.
Fudge nodded quickly: "Of course, of course."
He patted his chest, guaranteeing.
"I will dispatch a team of Aurors to be stationed near the Orphanage."
"To ensure the safety of the Orphanage."
"Rest assured, there will be absolutely no problems."
Charlie stared at him for a few seconds, then waved his wand.
The Spell on the ceiling was lifted.
Umbridge fell from the sky.
Bang!
She fell to the ground, letting out a scream.
Face down, she took a nasty fall, her toad-like face looking even worse.
Fudge motioned to the Aurors behind him to quickly help her up.
After Umbridge was helped up, her face was pale, and her eyes were full of malice.
She opened her mouth to say something, but was glared back into silence by Fudge.
Fudge turned around and looked at Charlie.
"Mr. White."
"I hope I can take Harry Potter away and concentrate our efforts on protecting him."
Charlie turned to look at Harry.
"That's up to Harry, he has to decide."
Harry stood at the top of the stairs, his face full of conflict.
He looked at Charlie, then at Fudge.
His heart felt as if something was blocking it.
He didn't want to leave. In just a few hours with Charlie, he had felt warmth and comfort.
Especially Grandma White, who made him feel particularly close.
But he knew that staying here would only cause trouble for Charlie. Sirius was after him.
If he stayed at the Orphanage, that lunatic might find this place.
By then, Charlie might be fine, but Grandma White would be in danger.
Harry bit his lip.
He looked up at Charlie.
"Charlie, I'll go with them."
Charlie didn't speak, just patted him on the shoulder.
Harry turned and went upstairs, then came back down dragging his undetectable extension trunk.
He stood at the door, looking at Charlie.
"Thank you, Charlie."
Charlie patted him on the shoulder.
"See you at school."
Harry nodded, dragging his undetectable extension trunk towards Fudge.
Fudge breathed a sigh of relief.
He waved his hand, signaling the Aurors to prepare to leave.
"Mr. White."
He turned to look at Charlie.
"I will give you an explanation for what happened today."
Charlie didn't speak, just nodded.
Fudge and his people disappeared into the night.
The explosive sound of Apparition rang out, and the street returned to quiet.
Although Fudge had sworn, promising that the Ministry of Magic would ensure safety, Charlie did not place all his hopes on the Ministry of Magic.
It was fine now during the summer vacation while he was home.
But after school started, when he went to school, Charlie was not at ease with the Ministry of Magic's so-called protection.
Even without Sirius, Charlie didn't want anyone else to threaten the Orphanage.
It was still necessary to leave some protective measures for the Orphanage.
Charlie pondered for a moment, returned to his room, opened his undetectable extension trunk, and walked inside.
Chapter 137 Elective Courses for the New Semester
The Whomping Willows planted earlier had already grown into a small forest.
These Whomping Willows were very fierce, lashing out at any living thing, but they were docile towards Charlie.
Charlie waved his wand, moving the group of Whomping Willows at the entrance of the box to another location.
He decided to leave the box at the Orphanage this semester, letting Norbert guard it, and moving the Whomping Willows to make it easier for Norbert to enter and exit the box.
Norbert had grown very large by now.
His wingspan exceeded fifteen meters, and his claws were sharp enough to tear through steel plates.
At this moment, he was lying in the cave, his tail swishing back and forth.
Zhu Di was hanging onto his tail, his short legs frantically pedaling.
Charlie walked into the cave, and Norbert immediately ran to Charlie, causing Zhu Di to lose his grip on the tail and fall to the ground with a thud, landing on his back.
Charlie patted Norbert's head.
"Norbert, you have to stay here this semester."
Norbert snorted, spraying hot air all over Charlie's face.
"Stop it." Charlie wiped his face.
"When I'm not here, you have to protect Grandma White for me."
Norbert flicked his tail, seemingly understanding.
Just then, Zhu Di laboriously climbed onto Norbert and straightened himself up.
He proudly patted his chest with his paw.
Big Brother, you can count on me.
Charlie smiled and tapped his head: "Then I'll leave it to you two."
Early the next morning, Charlie brought Grandma White into the box.
Grandma White stood at the entrance of the box, looking at the scene inside, completely stunned.
She hadn't expected such a large space inside a box. Was this magic? It would be great for storing potatoes.
"Charlie, this..." Her voice trembled slightly.
Charlie smiled.
"Grandma, there's also a big fellow inside, don't be afraid."
He held Grandma White's hand and walked deeper into the box.
Grandma White's steps were a bit stiff.
After a few steps, Norbert appeared.
He lay on the ground, his huge body shimmering with a metallic luster in the light, his round pupils looking at Grandma White, and hot air spray from his nostrils.
Grandma White took a step back in fright.
"Wh-what is this?" Her voice was trembling.
Charlie patted Norbert's head.
"This is Norbert, he is a Dragon."
Norbert was very perceptive; he lay on the ground, his head pressed against the surface, his tail wagging frantically from side to side.
Grandma White looked at the behemoth, her heart beating rapidly.
Charlie turned around and looked at her.
"Grandma, if you encounter danger, just open the box, and Norbert will come out to protect you."
Grandma White swallowed, and Norbert's obedient appearance slowly relaxed her nervous mood.
"He's very well-behaved." Charlie smiled.
"You can touch him, he's very gentle."
Grandma White hesitated for a moment, then reached out and gently touched Norbert's nose.
Norbert closed his eyes, his tail wagging even more happily.
Charlie stayed with Grandma White in the box for a while, and only after confirming that she was no longer afraid did he take her out.
Another week passed.
This morning, Charlie was lying in bed sleeping when suddenly there was a tapping sound on the windowpane.
He opened his eyes and saw an Owl standing on the windowsill, holding a letter in its beak.
Charlie opened the window and took the letter.
This time, the Owl didn't wait for Charlie to get the jerky; it flew away directly.
Damn it, last time it ate a piece of jerky, and Storm hooked up with its sweetheart right in front of it, even having nightly parties in the Owlery, while it could only watch helplessly.
It would never fall for that damned trick again.
Charlie was unaware of this, only marveling at how dedicated the Owl was, delivering letters tirelessly.
"Storm, you should learn from others."
Storm rolled his eyes.
Charlie opened the letter, which contained a booklist.
The third-year course booklist was similar to before, but it had an additional section for electives.
Charlie looked at the elective courses, his brow furrowing.
Divination, Arithmancy, Ancient Runes, Care of Magical Creatures Class, Muggle Studies.
At least two must be chosen.
Charlie stared at these names, his head aching; he would have to take a few more classes.
However, it was fortunate that Charlie had asked Senior Jenny about electives last semester.
At the time, Senior Jenny said:
"Choose Divination and Care of Magical Creatures Class. Divination is just making things up, and the teacher won't pursue it. Care of Magical Creatures Class is just interacting with small animals, very relaxed."
"Absolutely do not choose Arithmancy and Ancient Runes; those two classes have an insane amount of homework."
So Charlie decisively checked Divination and Care of Magical Creatures Class on the booklist.
Why not choose more classes? Choosing more was impossible; he would rather sleep lying down than sleep in the classroom.
On the last day of the summer holiday, Charlie went to Diagon Alley to buy textbooks for the next semester.
At Flourish and Blotts, Charlie pushed open the door, and the brass bell chimed crisply.
Most students had already bought their books by then, so the bookstore was relatively sparsely populated.
The owner was dozing behind the counter, and hearing the bell, he suddenly lifted his head.
"What do you need?" The owner rubbed his eyes.
Charlie pulled out the booklist: "The monster book of monsters, and Unfogging the Future."
The owner's face immediately fell.
He stood up and walked to an iron cage in the corner, his face full of reluctance.
Tearing and screaming sounds came from the cage; Charlie took two steps closer and saw the scene inside clearly.
A dozen green-covered books were crawling horizontally in the cage, their pages opening like crab claws, revealing dense, sharp teeth.
Two books grabbed the cover of a third book and pulled hard, tearing that book in half directly.
Paper scraps fluttered in the air, falling to the bottom of the cage.
The owner put on a pair of thick Dragon-hide gloves and picked up a wooden stick leaning against the wall.
He took a deep breath, as if going into battle.
The owner knocked on the cage door with the stick, and the books inside immediately surged towards him, their pages opening and closing frantically, making clicking sounds.
"Damn books."
The owner cursed, then used the stick to reach into the corner of the cage, hooked the book furthest from the door, and quickly dragged it out.
The book struggled wildly, its pages slapping against the stick.
The owner quickly closed the cage door, pressing down on the book with his gloved hand, but the book was still desperately trying to stand up, its sharp teeth aiming to bite the owner's hand.
"Be careful." The owner held up the book, his face covered in sweat.
"This thing bites."
Charlie reached out and took the book.
The monster book of monsters twisted frantically in his hand, its pages opening, its sharp teeth biting towards Charlie's fingers.
Charlie's eyes narrowed slightly.
Monarch's Might emanated from him, and the air solidified for a moment.
The monster book of monsters' movements stopped abruptly, its pages slowly closed, and the entire book, like a deflated ball, slumped softly in Charlie's hand.
The owner was stunned; he had felt Charlie's aura change for a moment, leaving him with lingering fear, and then the monster book of monsters had wilted.
He stared wide-eyed at the book in Charlie's hand, then opened his mouth.
"How did you do that?"
Charlie stuffed the book into his backpack.
"You just need to scare it a lot."
Chapter 138 Hermione, Second Author
The shopkeeper was still staring at Charlie's backpack, his face filled with disbelief. This summer, he had been tormented by this wretched book, and had never seen it so quiet.
"And 'Unfogging the Future'," Charlie reminded him.
The shopkeeper finally came to his senses and turned to look for the book on the shelf. He muttered as he searched.
"You wouldn't believe how annoying this wretched book is. I get bitten several times a day, and I've gone through three pairs of gloves. I never thought it would be so quiet in your hands."
He pulled a thick book from the top shelf, its cover emblazoned with a blurry crystal ball.
"I don't know what your Professor is thinking. I swear I'll never stock this kind of merchandise again."
The shopkeeper handed the book to Charlie.
Charlie pulled out gold coins from his pocket and placed them on the counter. The shopkeeper quickly collected the money, and the worry on his face finally eased a little.
"I wish you a pleasant new semester."
Charlie turned and left the bookstore.
The shopkeeper stared at his retreating figure, his heart itching. Just scaring it works? Is that really true?
He walked to the cage and reached in to grab a monster book of monsters.
The book struggled wildly in his hand, its pages flapping against his gloves.
The shopkeeper took a deep breath, imitating Charlie's actions from earlier, his eyes narrowing slightly.
"You behave yourself!"
As soon as he finished speaking, the book suddenly leaped from his hand and landed directly on his face.
"Ah--"
Sharp fangs bit into his nose.
The shopkeeper let out a pig-like scream, desperately trying to pull the book off with both hands.
The other monster book of monsters in the cage heard the commotion and all excitedly jumped around in their cage.
Charlie walked out of the bookstore, faintly hearing screams in the distance.
He paused, looked back in confusion, was it an illusion?
Never mind, it's irrelevant.
People came and went on the streets of Diagon Alley. Charlie planned to wander around when someone called out to him.
"Charlie!"
Charlie turned his head and saw Harry, Ron, and Hermione sitting at a table outside Florean Fortescue's Ice-Cream Parlour.
Ron's freckles were bright red, as if he had been sunburned.
Hermione was also quite tanned, her hair gleaming brown in the sunlight.
Charlie walked over and sat opposite them.
"How was your summer holiday?"
Ron licked the ice cream in his hand.
"Egypt was very hot. We went to the pyramids and saw mummies. I have to say, the Wizards in Egyptare quite something; the pyramids they built with magic are magnificent."
Hermione brought an ice cream over for Charlie and said with some frustration:
"France was pretty ordinary. I didn't even see any Wizards."
Charlie glanced at her. Well, of course, your parents are Muggles, so traveling with them would mean visiting Muggle attractions. It would be a ghost's chance to find a Wizard there.
"Did you get all your books?" Harry asked.
"I've got them all," Charlie nodded.
Ron put down his ice cream, his eyes lighting up.
"We were just betting on which classes you chose this semester."
"Divination and Care of magical creatures."
Hermione's eyes widened.
"Only those two?"
"Mm."
Ron slammed the table and looked triumphantly at Hermione.
"I told you!"
"Charlie would never choose all the classes like you. See, Charlie and I chose the same classes."
Hermione's face flushed red.
"How can that be the same?" she said through gritted teeth.
"He only chose two classes because he doesn't need to study other classes at all. And you chose them because you're too lazy!"
Ron rolled his eyes.
"Only people like you and Percy would choose them all." He paused, a hint of sarcasm in his tone.
"Oh right, now Percy is Head Boy. I see you as the next one."
Hermione was so angry she couldn't speak. What's wrong with being Head Boy!
She grabbed the spoon from the table and dug a large scoop of ice cream into her mouth.
Harry was stifling a laugh beside them.
Charlie watched them, the corners of his mouth curving slightly upward.
Without interrupting their epic battle, Charlie asked Harry, "How's the Ministry of Magic treating you?"
Harry shrugged, his tone very relaxed.
"It's good. They arranged for me to stay at the Leaky Cauldron. The room is nice, but they won't let me leave Diagon Alley."
As he spoke, he couldn't help but laugh.
"But honestly, it's much more comfortable in Diagon Alley than at my aunt's house."
Although the Leaky Cauldron is called a pub, it also offers hotel rooms.
For Harry, not having to face Dudley and his aunt and uncle was already a relief.
Ron leaned closer, lowering his voice, his eyes full of curiosity.
"Harry, did you really blow up your aunt into a balloon?"
This incident wasn't reported in the newspapers, but Ron's father worked at the Ministry of Magic, so he naturally heard a lot of inside information.
Harry's face instantly turned red.
"I didn't mean to. She kept badmouthing my parents, and I couldn't hold back."
Hermione crossed her arms, her brow slightly furrowed, as if deep in thought.
"The Ministry of Magic didn't punish you? That's very unusual."
Harry also felt lucky; he nodded.
"I thought it was strange too. I originally thought I'd be expelled."
Charlie leaned back in his chair. He guessed that Sirius's escape had already given Fudge enough headaches, and if Harry were to be retaliated against by Sirius at this critical juncture, things would get serious.
"Don't think so much," Charlie waved his hand and turned to Hermione.
"How's the essay coming along?"
Hermione's eyes instantly lit up. She pulled out a thick stack of parchment from her backpack and placed it on the table, her face filled with pride.
"I've finished it. I spent most of the summer on this."
She pushed the parchment towards Charlie.
"Take a look. Is there anything that needs to be changed?"
Charlie opened the first page, scanned it twice, and nodded.
"It's very detailed, and the logic is clear."
Hermione stared at him nervously, her hands unconsciously clasped together.
Charlie looked up and smiled.
"Professor McGonagall will recommend this essay to transfiguration today, and you will be the second author."
Hermione froze for a moment, her whole body rigid.
"But I only organized some materials and wrote dozens of pages for the essay. Anyone could do that."
Charlie's mouth twitched. There's no need to be so humble; it's really not something just anyone can do.
"I've decided. Your effort deserves this position."
Hermione suddenly covered her mouth, her eyes instantly reddening.
You know, this was an essay that could make history in the Wizarding world.
The entire concept and theory of the essay were proposed by Charlie, and all she did was consult materials, clearly elaborate Charlie's theories, and write them into an essay.
For Charlie to give her the position of second author, this trust and recognition were more precious than any reward.
Hermione clearly understood how valuable this essay was.
If Charlie wanted to, he could completely monopolize all the honor himself.
Ron listened, completely bewildered.
"What second author? Can an essay have several authors?"
Harry patted him on the shoulder:
"It's not your concern. Go play."
Chapter 139 The New Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor
The next morning, Charlie dragged his suitcase into King's Cross Station.
Platform Nine and Three-Quarters was bustling with people, parents sending their children off to school everywhere. The Hogwarts Express stood on the tracks, its red body faintly visible through the steam.
Charlie boarded the train just in time.
The train was about to depart, and the carriages were already packed with students. He dragged his suitcase from the front to the back of the train; every compartment was full, with laughter and conversations rising and falling.
Reaching the end of the train, Charlie pushed open the door to the last compartment.
Inside sat a man, sound asleep by the window. He wore tattered Wizard robes, the fabric worn white and covered in patches. His face was as pale as if he had been seriously ill, and stubble was prominent on his chin.
On the adjacent suitcase, it read: R. J. Professor Lupin.
Charlie raised an eyebrow.
The new Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor?
That was easy to guess; after all, in Hogwarts, only this position was a yearly change.
He shoved his suitcase onto the luggage rack and sat down opposite him.
Last year's Lockhart, though he didn't vanish into thin air like Quirrell, was imprisoned in Azkaban by Dumbledore for stealing others' experiences.
Charlie highly suspected that old Dumbledore had known there was something wrong with Lockhartall along.
Professor Lupin was sleeping soundly, and Charlie didn't disturb him, sitting quietly opposite him.
He wondered about Professor Lupin's teaching ability; if it was like the previous two years, wouldn't this batch of Hogwarts students be ruined?
But this didn't concern Charlie much; he was already powerful, and not just a little bit.
Just then, the sliding door opened, and Harry, Ron, and Hermione entered the compartment.
"Charlie!"
The trio were delighted to see Charlie, greeting him and sitting down beside him.
Hermione held an orange cat in her arms, its fur fluffy and its face flat as if it had been hit by a door.
This was Crookshanks, a pet Hermione had bought yesterday in Diagon Alley.
Crookshanks's eyes were fixed on Ron, or more precisely, on his pocket.
Ron immediately covered his pocket, his face full of vigilance.
"Hermione, control your cat!"
"He's just curious." Hermione hugged Crookshanks tighter.
"He won't eat your rat."
"That's not for sure." Ron's hand pressed firmly on his pocket.
"He looks at Scabbers like he's dinner."
Charlie glanced at Ron's pocket.
He remembered Scabbers the rat, dusty gray, dull fur, and eyes always staring blankly ahead.
How long can a normal rat live?
Two or three years?
But from what Ron said, Scabbers had been with the weasley family for a very long time.
Charlie asked with some curiosity.
"How old is your rat?"
Ron paused, then scratched his head.
"I don't know. He used to be Percy's. After Percy became a prefect, he bought a new Owl and gave Scabbers to me." He thought for a moment.
"It must be over ten years old."
Over ten years?
Charlie's eyes narrowed slightly; that didn't seem right.
Ron didn't notice Charlie's change in expression and continued to speak to himself:
"Scabbers is indeed old. He's listless every day and doesn't like to move. I have to feed him rat strengthening potion daily."
At this, his face fell.
"But last night I couldn't find the potion. I don't know where it went." Ron sighed.
"What if Scabbers gets sick?"
Charlie's doubts were largely dispelled. Perhaps this magic potion had kept Scabbers alive for so long.
"Third-years can go to Hogsmeade on weekends," Charlie said.
"You can just buy another one then."
Ron's eyes lit up.
"I've wanted to go to Hogsmeade for ages."
"Harry, we can go together. There's Honeydukes candy shop there; their candies are the best in all of Britain."
At the mention of Hogsmeade, Harry's face immediately fell.
He remembered the permission slip he had given to Uncle Vernon, which was probably still in the trash can on Privet Drive.
"I can't go." Harry's voice was a bit muffled.
"No guardian's signature."
Ron opened his mouth, wanting to say something comforting, but in the end, he just patted Harry's shoulder.
Hermione pursed her lips, her face full of sympathy.
But she also knew that rules were rules; unless there was a guardian's signature, Harry really couldn't go.
Moreover, with Sirius still out there, Hogwarts certainly wouldn't let Harry leave Hogwarts.
Charlie leaned back in his seat, pondering whether he could take Harry to Hogsmeade as bait.
The Hogwarts Express continued its journey.
At one in the afternoon, the Trolley Witch came to the compartment door, pushing her food cart.
She knocked on the door.
"Anything off the trolley, dears?"
Ron immediately stood up, his eyes shining.
"I'll take one of everything!"
He winced slightly as he pulled a Galleon from his pocket. His parents had given him pocket money for the trip to Egypt, and he had secretly saved some, finally able to treat his friends to food.
Ron bought a huge pile of snacks.
chocolate frogs, Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans, pumpkin pasties, cauldron cakes, they filled the entire small table.
Hermione reached for a pumpkin pasty, but her gaze fell on Professor Lupin.
The Professor's face was really too pale, as if he had been seriously ill, his eyes sunken.
"He looks like he needs something to eat," Hermione whispered.
She stood up, walked over to Professor Lupin, and gently nudged his shoulder. "Professor?"
Professor Lupin didn't move.
Hermione nudged him again, her voice a bit louder.
"Professor Lupin?"
Still no response.
Ron, his mouth full of pumpkin cake, mumbled indistinctly:
"He must be asleep, right? I mean, he's not dead, is he?"
Charlie gave him a speechless look. You little rascal, aren't you afraid he'll hear you? What if he's like Snape, you'd be toast.
Ron also realized his words might easily lead to a beating, swallowed the food in his mouth, and nervously looked at Professor Lupin.
Fortunately, the Professor still made no movement.
Ron breathed a sigh of relief and sat back down, this time eating much more quietly.
The train continued its journey, and the rain outside the window grew heavier. Raindrops pounded against the train window, making a dense pattering sound. The sky grew darker and darker; the fields and woods that had been visible before now blurred into a single shadow.
Time gradually passed, and the snacks from lunchtime were mostly digested.
Lights were lit in the carriage, and the orange glow made the atmosphere slightly warmer.
Suddenly, the train's speed slowed down.
Ron looked up.
"We must be there, right? I'm starving. Snacks just don't fill you up."
Hermione glanced at her watch, her brows furrowing.
"That's unlikely. It's two hours earlier than usual."