Charlie had been living the good life these days, midnight strolls, adventure, chaos.
Only one thing was missing: he hadn't done a single piece of homework.
He kept borrowing Ernie's, leaving the latter increasingly confused.
"Charlie, homework's a piece of cake for you. Why bother copying mine?"
Ernie handed over his Potions assignment as he asked, puzzled.
Charlie replied with complete confidence, "Why waste precious time on something so trivial?"
[Your Majesty neglects governance and indulges in luxury. Tyrant Points +1]
See, there was a system to it. Not studying = Tyrant Points. Tyrant Points = magical power. Magical power = mastery of the subject.
Therefore, not studying = learning.
Good thing he was in Hufflepuff. If he had said that in the Gryffindor common room, a certain "little professor" would have lectured him to death.
Ernie sighed.
"All right. I'll help you with the assignments, but in return, you have to coach me on Charms and Transfiguration."
Charlie's eyes lit up.
What a deal.
The spells granted by the system weren't just usable, they came with built-in knowledge. Guiding Ernie would be a breeze.
So in the days that followed, Charlie's life became even more comfortable.
He woke each morning to a steaming hot breakfast from Billy the house-elf, skipped every assignment thanks to Ernie, napped through lessons, and spent his afternoons exploring the castle with the Weasley twins.
His only source of frustration was the trapdoor guarded by the three-headed dog. There was no way past it.
Even Fred and George had no clue if there was a secret passage nearby.
"Dumbledore must have placed some kind of special protection spell over it," Fred speculated.
"Why else would he use a three-headed dog as a guard?" George added.
Harry had also told him that the item hidden beneath was something Hagrid had retrieved from Gringotts.
"Someone even broke in after we left," Harry said, whispering like it was a grand conspiracy. "But Hagrid and I beat them to it."
Everything changed on Halloween Eve.
That evening, Charlie was in Snape's office organizing potion ingredients.
Don't ask why, it had all started in class when Charlie convinced Gryffindor's Seamus to try something "experimental" during Potions. The cauldron exploded, covering Snape in boils.
Snape, seething, gave Charlie two more months of detention.
Now he had detention with Professor McGonagall on Wednesdays and Fridays, and with Snape on Tuesdays and Thursdays.
Charlie was helpless. His detention schedule was more packed than a world tour.
He just needed someone to claim Mondays to complete the full set.
Snape stood in front of a mountain of disorganized potion ingredients, glaring at Charlie.
"Sort them. All of them," he said in that trademark, spine-chilling voice.
"Silver unicorn horn powder, viper fangs, mandrake roots. Separate them all by year and quality."
Charlie glanced at the heap, silently cursing.
How long was this going to take?
"Professor, it's the Halloween Feast tonight," Charlie tried bargaining. "Maybe I could, "
"Then I suggest you work faster." Snape's lips curled into a cold smirk.
"If you don't finish by the time I'm back, no dinner."
With that, he glided over to his desk and sat down, flipping open The Daily Prophet.
His dark eyes flicked over the paper, but never stopped watching Charlie.
Charlie grit his teeth and began sorting.
Ever since he'd drawn multiple potion recipes through the system, he could brew perfect potions in class. Snape could no longer deduct points, so this was his way of getting revenge.
Time ticked by. Outside, the sky darkened.
Charlie's stomach started growling. He peeked at Snape.
The old bat was still pretending to read, but he was clearly watching him like a hawk.
Then, Snape's stomach betrayed him with a loud grumble.
The office fell into an awkward silence.
Snape's face twitched. He quietly set down his paper and cleared his throat.
"I'm going to the feast," he announced, robes sweeping behind him dramatically.
"If I return and this isn't finished…"
"I'll turn you into a toad and brew you into a potion."
Charlie rolled his eyes. Yeah, scare tactics 101.
Snape squinted threateningly at him before striding out of the office.
The moment the door clicked shut, Charlie clapped his hands.
"Screw sorting!"
He stretched his limbs, ready to bail.
But the feast was probably wrapping up by now. Not worth the rush.
"Billy!"
Pop! The house-elf appeared instantly.
"Master White, what can Billy do for you?" Billy asked dutifully.
"Bring me something tasty. I'm starving."
Charlie rubbed his belly.
Billy vanished and returned within a minute, arms full of food.
Roasted chicken legs, pumpkin pie, butterbeer, the works.
Charlie brought the tray to the wide stone windowsill and sat down.
Outside, stars shimmered over Hogwarts' towers, bathed in silver moonlight. The scene was breathtaking.
"Now this is the life," he said, biting into a drumstick, utterly content.
[Your Majesty neglects governance and indulges in luxury. Tyrant Points +1]
…
Meanwhile, Snape swept into the Great Hall.
The Halloween Feast was halfway through. Long tables groaned under piles of food. Giant jack-o'-lanterns floated above while bats fluttered along the ceiling beams.
"Severus, you're late," said Professor McGonagall, looking mildly surprised.
"Potions research," Snape replied curtly as he took his seat.
"Severus is always so dedicated," chirped Professor Flitwick.
"Workaholic," muttered Professor Sprout with a shake of her head.
"You ought to relax every once in a while."
Snape ignored them, silently eating his meal.
No one minded. Snape had always acted like his wife died tragically or something.
The hall buzzed with cheer. Gryffindor students burst out in peals of laughter, and the Hufflepuffs were halfway through an eating contest.
Snape finished quickly and set down his utensils, about to leave.
Then the Great Hall's doors suddenly banged open.
Quirrell stumbled in, pale as parchment, his purple turban askew.
"T-TROLL!" he cried to Dumbledore, his voice shrill with fear.
"There's a troll in the dungeons!"
"I thought you should know…"
And with that, he collapsed face-first on the floor.
The Great Hall erupted.
Students screamed, chaos broke loose.
"A troll?! You serious?!"
"Wait, wasn't that the professor just now?"
"Quirrell, really? He probably mistook a house-elf for a troll."
Dumbledore rose and tapped his goblet with his wand.
Purple sparks exploded from the tip, bursting into fireworks above.
Gradually, the room fell silent.
"Prefects, lead your students back to their dormitories at once," Dumbledore's voice rang out calm but firm.
"Teachers, follow me."
Students were escorted out under prefect supervision, but anxiety lingered thick in the air.
Snape's brow furrowed.
A troll? Inside Hogwarts? Who let it in?
"Severus," Dumbledore approached quietly, his voice lowered. "Go check the fourth floor. Make sure everything's secure."
Snape gave a short nod.
He understood exactly what Dumbledore meant.
The Philosopher's Stone was hidden there.
It had to be protected at all costs.
Without a word, Snape turned and swept from the hall, black cloak billowing behind him.
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