A weary voice came from inside the office.
Charlie pushed the door open and stepped in. Professor McGonagall sat behind her desk, a stack of parchment in hand, seemingly in the middle of grading.
"Mr. White, take a seat," she said, gesturing to the chair in front of her.
Charlie obediently sat down. Being a tyrant didn't mean you had to be suicidal. If you were called to the professor's office, you'd better sit tight and prepare for the worst.
Professor McGonagall put the parchment aside, removed her glasses, and rubbed her temples.
"Mr. White, I know Professor Snape may have gone too far today."
Her tone was much gentler than Charlie had expected.
"But that still doesn't justify you insulting a professor."
Charlie nodded. "I understand, Professor McGonagall. I admit I was impulsive."
"In light of your actions, I'm assigning you one month of detention," she said firmly.
"Every Wednesday and Friday evening, you'll report to my office."
Charlie grimaced. Great, detention with the head of his House.
After the punishment was given, McGonagall's expression softened.
She put her glasses back on and studied Charlie closely.
"However, I'm quite curious about something," she said. "Just how far has your Transfiguration progressed?"
She had been impressed with his performance during their first class. Now she wanted to assess his true level and tailor her teaching accordingly.
It wouldn't do to hold back a true talent with a standard curriculum.
Charlie was a bit surprised. "Would you like to see it?"
"Of course. As the Transfiguration professor, I'm very interested in my students' capabilities."
Charlie stood up and pulled out his wand.
He pointed it toward the corner of the office. "Accio spider"
A tiny spider flew into his hand from the shadows.
Then he gave another flick of his wand, and the spider turned into a simple button resting in his palm.
Though the button's shape was rather crude, it was complete.
Professor McGonagall's eyes widened. Her face was full of astonishment.
She slowly rose from her seat, walked over to Charlie, and took the button, examining it carefully.
"By Merlin's shaved beard…" she murmured.
"You've only been here for a week!"
Though the craftsmanship was rough and lacked polish, this level of transformation could easily earn an 'Outstanding' in a first-year final exam.
And that Summoning Charm wasn't bad either.
"No wonder you're always distracted or napping in class," she muttered, suddenly enlightened.
"The material must be too simple for you."
She felt a pang of guilt. As a professor, she hadn't done her duty for a student with this level of talent.
"One moment, Mr. White."
McGonagall walked to a bookshelf and reached up to the very top, retrieving a thick, weathered notebook. Its yellowing cover showed its age, but it was clearly well-kept.
"This is my personal Transfiguration notebook," she said, handing it to him.
"It contains my insights and research accumulated over the years. I hope it helps you."
Charlie accepted the notebook, feeling its surprising weight.
He didn't really need theoretical knowledge, but the gesture warmed his heart.
"Thank you, Professor McGonagall," he said sincerely.
McGonagall smiled with rare warmth.
"Remember, talent is only part of the equation. Hard work and character matter just as much."
Charlie nodded. And also having a cheat system, he thought silently.
"Very well," McGonagall nodded.
"That's all for today. Don't forget, next Wednesday at eight, you'll report here on time."
Charlie bid her farewell with the notebook in hand and exited the office.
McGonagall watched his retreating figure, eyes full of admiration.
Such a gifted and respectful student, it must've been Snape's fault for pushing him too far.
"It's just a shame he's not in Gryffindor," she sighed softly.
If he were, she would have more chances to mentor him directly.
Still, this detention arrangement would suffice.
Charlie's stomach rumbled loudly as he exited.
Dinner was long over. The Great Hall was probably deserted by now.
All he could do was pray that Ernie and Justin had saved him something to eat.
He pushed open the Hufflepuff common room door to find Ernie and Justin playing wizard chess.
Charlie walked over, wearing a hopeful look and stared at them pitifully.
Ernie glanced up, confused.
"What's with you? Constipated?"
Justin looked him over, then shivered with disgust.
Dude. Whatever you're thinking, don't.
Charlie deflated and collapsed onto the nearby sofa.
"Nothing. I'm just starving. Got anything to eat?"
Ernie grinned mysteriously and set down his chess piece.
"A Hufflepuff, go hungry? Impossible."
He beckoned Charlie to follow.
Charlie trailed after him in confusion.
Ernie stopped in front of a still-life painting of fruit and gently scratched at the pear.
To Charlie's astonishment, the pear turned into a green doorknob.
Ernie pushed it open and stepped through. Charlie followed, curiosity piqued.
Behind the door was a massive, vaulted kitchen. Copper pots and pans gleamed on the walls, and the ceiling stretched high above them.
Dozens of tiny beings bustled around, barely waist-high to Charlie, with pointed ears, huge eyes like tennis balls, and colorful tea-towel tunics.
Except for the outfits, they looked like the goblins from Gringotts.
"These are the house-elves," Ernie explained.
"They clean Hogwarts and prepare all the meals."
The moment the elves spotted young wizards, they dropped their chores and swarmed over, beaming with excitement.
"Does the master need anything?"
"Billy is happy to serve!"
"Are you hungry? We can make anything!"
The flurry of voices overwhelmed Charlie.
"Uh… I missed dinner, and I'm kinda starving…"
The elf named Billy stepped forward.
"What would you like? Anything at all! British, French, Italian… even Eastern Cuisine."
Charlie blinked in surprise.
"You can do Eastern? Alright then, how about a Royalty Feast?"
He expected the elf to be confused.
Instead, Billy asked, "Which dish from the feast would you like?"
Charlie froze. "Wait… you know what that is?"
Billy puffed up proudly.
"Of course! A wizard from the East once studied here and gave us the complete recipe. He said, 'A real chef must master the full Eastern banquet!'"
Charlie swallowed.
"Then I'll have duck."
"Stuffed Duck, coming up!"
The elves cheered and got to work at lightning speed.
Charlie looked around at the wok stations and bamboo steamers. It all felt so out of place in a Scottish castle.
In less than twenty minutes, with magic-enhanced efficiency, a steaming duck was served before him.
It was golden and glistening, its belly stuffed with sticky rice, shiitake mushrooms, chestnuts, and more. The aroma was mouthwatering.
"Anything else?" the elves asked, eyes shining.
"Some rice and soup, please," Charlie said shamelessly.
Soon, fluffy white rice and sweet pumpkin soup joined the feast.
Ernie drooled beside him.
"I already had dinner, but this smells amazing…"
"Join me," Charlie said.
"There's no way I can finish this duck alone."
The two boys sat down and dug in.
Charlie tore off a drumstick and took a bite. The burst of flavor left him stunned.
"This is incredible!" Ernie exclaimed.
"Who knew Eastern food was this good?"
Charlie chuckled.
"There's so much good Eastern food. I wonder if house-elves can make all of it."
Billy beamed.
"Billy and friends can make anything you can describe, master!"
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