Compared to the packed carriages at the start of term, the Hogwarts Express during the return from Christmas break was practically deserted. Most students had stayed home, and the corridors between compartments were unusually quiet.
Inside one particular compartment, Hermione was sitting stiffly, her expression deeply conflicted.
In her hands was a heavily creased piece of parchment, densely scribbled with notes she'd compiled from Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them, The Magical Creatures Compendium, and Ancient Magical Creatures: A Scholarly Index. Three specific terms were circled several times in bright red ink.
Hermione bit her lip, eyebrows furrowed tightly together.
She had spent her entire holiday poring over magical creature texts, and now, at last, she had found it: the weakness of Fluffy, the three-headed dog.
But she wasn't sure if she should tell Charlie and the others.
She knew how dangerous their last adventure had been. Wandering the castle at night… that alone was a serious violation. If they were caught again, they might actually be expelled.
Just then, Charlie boarded the train, dragging his luggage behind him. He peeked into each compartment, scanning for familiar faces or an empty seat.
Spotting Hermione, he casually slid open the door and stepped in.
One glance told him everything: Hermione looked like she was about to have a nervous breakdown.
"…Constipated?" he asked.
Hermione's face flushed crimson. She nearly dropped the parchment in her hand, stuffing it into her pocket in a panic.
"I finally understand why Professor Snape always picks on you!" she snapped, voice sharp.
Charlie plopped down across from her, utterly unbothered.
"That's his kink, not my fault. I'm a perfectly decent citizen."
"Anyway, did you like your Christmas present?"
Hermione's irritation dissipated. She was getting used to Charlie's nonsense.
Truth be told, his gift had been incredibly thoughtful, his personal study notes, especially the Transfiguration section, were better than their textbooks. Every charm was broken down step by step, including wand motions, incantation techniques, and even common mistakes.
"You must have spent a lot of time writing it."
Charlie nodded solemnly.
"Of course. I made it just for you."
[Detected: His Majesty earnestly bullshitting to impress a girl. Tyrant Points +2] (T.L : Lol🤣)
Charlie ignored the system.
Hermione, meanwhile, felt a pang of guilt.
She'd only given Charlie a clock. A very practical clock, yes, but it hardly compared in effort or thoughtfulness. Even if he did need it because he kept arriving to class just barely on time…
Still, the imbalance bothered her.
So she took a deep breath, and made a decision.
"You've been wanting to figure out how to get past Fluffy, right?"
Charlie immediately leaned forward, eyes gleaming.
"You found a way?"
"I spent the holidays reading up on magical beasts," she said, pulling out several thick tomes from her bag. "This one's Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them… and this one…"
Charlie felt a chill down his spine watching her unpack an entire library. This girl… was not human.
"I found out that three-headed dogs fall asleep when they hear music," Hermione explained.
"Music, huh…"
"What kind of music?" he asked.
"Anything gentle, like a lullaby. According to the book, despite their appearance, they're actually very susceptible to sleep-inducing sounds."
Charlie nodded. This was major.
He already knew what was under Fluffy, the Philosopher's Stone, and while he didn't particularly care about the Stone itself, breaking school rules to reach it would definitely earn him a truckload of Tyrant Points.
He slammed the table in excitement. The teacup on it jumped.
"Hermione, you're a genius!"
Hermione resisted the smile tugging at her lips and lifted her chin.
"Just admit you couldn't have figured it out without me. Let's call it my Christmas gift."
"But Charlie," she added quickly, her smile fading, "I don't want you going after it. The Headmaster personally put that dog there, it's forbidden for a reason."
Charlie wasn't listening.
His brain was already mapping out possible night routes.
He stared at her, eyes bright with mischief.
"So… are you coming?"
"No."
Charlie narrowed his eyes, giving her a knowing look.
"Really not coming?"
He pointed at the parchment sticking out of her pocket.
"You researched it. You took notes."
Hermione felt the heat rising to her face.
"I said no! If I go with you, I'll throw myself off the Astronomy Tower!"
Charlie looked at her like she was a war general on the eve of battle, already half-consumed by drama.
The train finally pulled into Hogsmeade Station. Charlie and Hermione parted ways to change into their school uniforms.
Afterward, the bell rang from the Great Hall, just in time for the feast.
Charlie hurried to join the crowd.
The Christmas break feast was always lavish, and this time was no exception: roast turkey, honey-glazed ham, cream of mushroom soup, Christmas puddings, cakes and pastries lined every inch of the tables.
Charlie took a seat beside Ernie.
"Charlie! Long time no see," Ernie grinned, pulling him into a hug. "How was your break?"
"Not bad. Spent it with family." Charlie reached for a sausage.
"I went to visit my aunt in Germany. Boring place. Oh, and thanks for the Christmas notes, they were amazing! Here's your homework."
He handed Charlie a stack of neatly completed parchment.
Hermione had already passed him her share back on the train. With Ernie's too, Charlie now had zero homework to do.
Up at the faculty table, the professors were all present again, holiday smiles still lingering.
Tomorrow, classes resumed, and their own breaks would be over.
The four Heads of House chatted idly while they ate.
"Oh, you'll never believe it, one of the first-years actually sent me a Christmas gift this year," said Flitwick with a chuckle.
"Let me guess, Charlie White?" McGonagall asked, smiling.
"He sent me a huge bag of catnip. My cat's been high for a week."
So have I, she thought, but didn't say it out loud.
Flitwick dabbed his eyes.
"He even gave me a footstool! Said it'd save me from having to stand on books during class."
"I got a new pair of dragonhide gloves!" Professor Sprout beamed. "Just when I needed them, too."
The three professors shared a laugh.
"It's so rare," McGonagall mused. "First-years are usually terrified of us. Not many think to give teachers presents."
Behind his half-moon glasses, Dumbledore's blue eyes twinkled thoughtfully.
The last student to be adored by all the faculty… had been Tom Riddle.
He glanced toward the Hufflepuff table.
There sat a black-haired boy, laughing easily with his friends. Radiant, popular. Kind.
Dumbledore had watched Tom Riddle the same way, decades ago, heard the same faculty praise him, saw the same admiration from classmates.
Ah. That terrible sense of déjà vu.
Still, Dumbledore bore no suspicion toward Charlie.
People were different. He had seen the cruelty in Riddle long before anyone else had.
And in Charlie, he saw something else, something pure.
…Even if that "purity" was just a little… twisted.
No magic had told him that. Just a century's worth of wisdom.
Flitwick turned to Snape, voice innocent:
"Severus, did you get a gift from Charlie too?"
The air turned still.
Snape silently carved his steak, black eyes gleaming with cold rage.
Flitwick winced.
…Oops.
He quickly returned to his plate.
Snape's eyes drifted toward the Hufflepuff table.
Just then, Charlie looked up, sipping his soup, and felt a chill. He turned and locked eyes with the Potions Master.
Charlie beamed and waved cheerfully.
Snape's expression darkened into something like murder.
"…Weird," Charlie muttered. "His hair's still greasy. Doesn't he like my 13-in-1 shampoo?"
"Maybe I should've gone with 14-in-1…"
Dumbledore, watching the scene unfold, chuckled softly to himself.
…Well, perhaps not all the professors liked Charlie White.
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