"Hold onto my arm," Professor Flitwick reminded.
As soon as Charlie grabbed on, that sickening sensation of being squeezed through a tube hit again.
It was slightly better this time, maybe because he was mentally prepared.
Back at the Leaky Cauldron, Professor Flitwick didn't rush back to Hogwarts. Instead, he ordered two drinks at the bar.
Underage witches and wizards weren't allowed to drink alcohol, so he joined Charlie in having something non-alcoholic.
"Charlie, about Gripp… he's really not a bad person…" Professor Flitwick hesitated.
Charlie waved his hand dismissively.
"No need to explain, Professor."
"Everyone has their own reasons. I get that." He sipped his drink, it was warm and comforting.
"But that doesn't mean I'll stand by and let him insult you."
Flitwick's eyes turned slightly red.
"Thank you, Charlie."
"He really is a friend," the professor said with a sigh.
"But ever since I took the position at Hogwarts, he's been unhappy with me."
"There are many goblins like Gripp," he added with a heavy tone.
"They've been oppressed by wizards for generations. But lacking the power to fight back, they can only hide in remote corners of the world."
"A small number take revenge instead. They go after wizards, hunting them."
Suddenly, Professor Flitwick turned toward Charlie, expression stern.
"Remember this, Mr. White, if you ever encounter that kind of goblin, run. Run as far and fast as you can."
Charlie nodded without arguing.
"Professor, you're really well-liked by your students," he said earnestly. "Everyone respects you."
Professor Flitwick's eyes glistened with tears. He dabbed at the corners with his sleeve.
"Then Charlie, could you maybe stop falling asleep in Charms class?"
Charlie's smile froze.
"Goodbye, Professor!"
And off he ran, leaving Professor Flitwick chuckling helplessly behind him.
Time flew by, and before long, November arrived.
One snowy morning, Charlie stared out the window and sighed dramatically.
"Time flows like a river, never resting day or night."
Ernie, sitting nearby, blinked in confusion.
"What the heck? Dead people look like your husband? And they look the same day or night?"
He stared wide-eyed. "Wait, who died? You have a husband?!"
Charlie didn't even bother to respond.
Ignorance… truly terrifying.
Ernie wanted to ask more, but the noise from the Gryffindor table interrupted them.
Malfoy was causing trouble again.
Neville's memory wasn't the best, so he carried a Remembrall, a little orb that turned red to alert him when he forgot something.
Of course, Malfoy never passed up an opportunity to mock someone. He snatched the Remembrall while Crabbe and Goyle blocked Neville.
"Longbottom, you might as well toss this thing," Malfoy sneered, holding it high in the air.
"Not like you'd remember what you forgot anyway."
Neville wanted to be angry, but… he couldn't deny the logic.
He blushed bright red and stammered, "I know I'm stupid. Can you just stop messing with me?"
The nearby Slytherins burst into laughter.
Crabbe and Goyle were howling, slapping the table like it was the funniest thing they'd ever heard.
Neville's eyes reddened. But he didn't dare fight back. He just lowered his head, quietly enduring the ridicule.
That's when Harry stood up.
"Malfoy, do you ever get tired of stealing Neville's Remembrall?" he asked.
"Give it back."
Harry's voice was calm, but there was fire in his eyes.
He couldn't stand seeing his friend bullied.
Malfoy smirked, raising the Remembrall even higher.
"Look who's trying to play hero again."
His silver-gray eyes gleamed with malice.
"No broom this time, Potter. Let's see what you've got."
He was referring to that time in flying class when he'd stolen Neville's Remembrall and Harry had flown after him.
Harry's flying had rattled him, and now, thanks to that, Potter had made the Quidditch team. Their first match was coming up.
Malfoy was seething with jealousy.
Harry's eyes narrowed.
Ron had had enough too.
"Malfoy, what's your problem with Neville? You pick on him every chance you get."
"Give the ball back."
Malfoy scoffed.
"I don't feel like it. What're you gonna do about it?"
"That idiot can't even manage one spell per term. Does he really belong here?"
"Hahahaha…"
Each word hit Neville like a blow. He lowered his head even further. Sometimes, he wondered if he really was a wizard.
Tension crackled between the two houses. Students from Gryffindor and Slytherin had begun to gather.
That's when Charlie walked in, half a piece of bread in hand, chewing as he strolled over.
"Malfoy," he said mid-bite, "itching for a beating again, are we?"
Malfoy's face changed the moment he saw Charlie.
He was genuinely a bit scared of him. That incident on the Hogwarts Express still haunted him, Charlie had cussed them out so hard it left a mark.
And this lunatic had even dared curse out Professor Snape.
But with all his followers watching, Malfoy couldn't show fear.
"What's it to you, Hufflepuff?" he shot back, forcing himself to sound confident.
Charlie chuckled. Malfoy reminded him of the bullies from his past life.
Bullies never thought they were doing anything wrong. But the moment the tables turned, they were the first to cry foul.
Charlie had been bullied too. But he chose to fight back, and after that, no one ever dared touch him again.
It made him loathe bullies to the core.
He pointed his bread at Malfoy.
"You like bullying Neville? Fine. I feel like bullying you."
"Got a problem with that? Come settle it one-on-one."
Malfoy's face contorted in a beautiful array of colors.
He wanted to snap, but didn't dare. This was the guy who took down a troll, for Merlin's sake.
That's when Goyle opened his mouth.
"Boss, he wants a duel? Who does he think he is?"
"Show him who's boss!"
Malfoy: "???"
Mate… you want me to duel him? With a wand? Are you serious?
He took out a troll, you absolute walnut!
Malfoy was thoroughly humiliated.
Goyle didn't care. He raised his wand, ready to cast.
Malfoy's soul nearly left his body.
"Expelliarmus!"
Charlie's reflexes were lightning-fast. A flash of red light blasted Goyle off his feet.
The wand spun in the air, landing neatly in Charlie's hand.
Goyle let out a pitiful yelp, crashing into a stack of chairs.
Malfoy panicked.
"Don't touch me, my father is-"
Before he could finish, Charlie jabbed Goyle's wand straight into Malfoy's throat.
Malfoy gagged, his face turning purple.
[Your Majesty bullies a fellow student with ruthless arrogance. +2 Tyrant Points]
Charlie wrinkled his nose in disgust and pulled the wand back.
"Get lost. You lot ruined my appetite."
Malfoy clutched his throat, tears streaming down his face.
"You'll pay for this, Harry! I hope you fall off your broom during the match!"
He didn't even dare throw threats at Charlie, he took it out on Harry instead.
Charlie shot him a glance, cold as ice.
Malfoy shivered on the spot.
"RUN!"
He grabbed Crabbe and bolted, not even sparing a look for Goyle.
Goyle, bruised and battered, scrambled after them.
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