Professor McGonagall's sharp gaze lingered on Hermione for several seconds. She noticed the tear tracks at the corner of her eyes and the lingering paleness in her face.
She'd originally wanted to press further, why Hermione had been alone in the bathroom, but seeing her still shaken, the stern transfiguration professor softened.
With how well she knew Hermione, she knew the girl never lied.
"Miss Granger," McGonagall finally said, her voice strict but noticeably gentler than expected, "Gryffindor loses five points due to today's incident."
Harry and Ron both exhaled loudly in relief. They'd been expecting something far worse, detention, or maybe a huge deduction.
At that moment, Dumbledore, who had been examining the troll, straightened up. His blue eyes gleamed with quiet intelligence behind his half-moon spectacles.
"Minerva's judgment is fair," he said warmly.
"But Mr. Weasley and Mr. Potter showed admirable courage in risking their lives for a friend. Gryffindor, ten points."
Snape let out a loud, disgruntled snort. Clearly, he disagreed.
Dumbledore continued as if he hadn't heard.
"And Mr. White saved a friend as well…"
He stopped, glancing toward Professor Flitwick, who was already looking at him with sparkling anticipation.
"And with his flawless silent spellcasting, Hufflepuff earns twenty points."
Flitwick practically puffed up like a proud owl, beaming as though the points had gone to Ravenclaw instead.
As Charlie's Charms professor, his student's performance was the greatest compliment he could receive.
"Silent casting!" Flitwick couldn't help but wonder.
"A first-year mastering it, such talent is unheard of!"
Snape's expression darkened further. He shot Charlie a venomous glare.
This boy brewed perfect potions and wielded elite-level Charms?
Snape was running out of excuses to deduct points.
"Every house is currently holding its own celebration," Dumbledore said.
"If you hurry back, you should still catch the end of it."
Everyone began to disperse, until Charlie raised his hand.
"Professor Dumbledore, what will happen to the troll?"
Dumbledore seemed surprised.
"It will be dismantled for magical materials. Troll components are highly useful in advanced coursework."
No one pitied the troll. Ugly creatures rarely got sympathy.
Charlie's eyes lit up.
"Since I defeated it, may I request some of its hide?"
McGonagall frowned. "What do you need troll hide for?"
"I want to make armor."
The honesty in his tone made every professor freeze.
An eleven-year-old… asking for troll-hide armor?
Innovative.
Ambitious.
Completely insane.
Dumbledore suddenly burst into hearty laughter.
"What an interesting idea, Mr. White. Permission granted."
"Headmaster!" McGonagall protested.
"It's dangerous to let a first-year handle, "
"No need to worry, Minerva," Dumbledore said gently.
"Troll hide itself isn't volatile. And Mr. White has already demonstrated he can manage it safely."
Charlie grinned with satisfaction.
"You may all return to your dormitories now," McGonagall urged.
The students started down the hall. Harry trailed behind, until he noticed something strange.
Snape was limping.
His right leg was clearly favoring the ground, and beneath his robe, Harry could make out teeth marks on his calf.
Even stranger, Snape was carrying a small bundled package… with food inside.
Harry blinked.
Snape… packing snacks for someone?
That was more unbelievable than seeing him dance in a pink dress.
"Hurry, Harry," Ron whispered, tugging him along.
Harry followed, but his mind was buzzing.
…
Once the students were out of sight, Dumbledore turned to Snape.
"Severus, the fourth floor?"
"Secure." Snape's face was expressionless.
"Someone tried to break in but was stopped by the dog."
Dumbledore nodded.
"So our protections are working." His eyes flicked toward Snape's injured leg.
"And your leg?"
"It's nothing," Snape said curtly.
"Just a bite."
Dumbledore raised a brow.
"Ah. So Fluffy remains… spirited."
Snape pressed his lips together in annoyance.
Then Dumbledore's gaze dropped to the food bundle in Snape's hand.
"I recall seeing you eat quite heartily at the feast," he mused innocently.
"So why pack another portion? Midnight snack?"
His eyes twinkled mischievously.
"Or… is it meant for someone else?"
Snape's expression turned pitch-black.
He glared at Dumbledore with such heat it could've melted stone.
"If your observational skills were always this sharp," he snapped, dripping with sarcasm,
"how did a troll get into Hogwarts?"
He hurled the food bundle onto the floor, slammed his cloak behind him, and stormed off.
Dumbledore watched him go, awkwardly chuckled, then stooped to retrieve the bundle.
Softly, he muttered:
"Oh dear… waste not, want not."
…
Meanwhile, the four students walked down the corridor toward their dormitories.
An awkward silence hung between Hermione and the boys.
Their earlier conflict was technically resolved, but neither side wanted to speak first.
Laughter and music drifted faintly from the distant common rooms, signs of ongoing celebrations.
"Charlie…" Hermione finally spoke, voice trembling slightly.
"Thank you. Truly. If you hadn't rushed in, I might've…"
She didn't finish, but everyone knew what she meant.
"It's fine. We're friends," Charlie said casually.
But Hermione's heart twisted with frustration.
Earlier, when she saw Charlie casting silent spells, flawlessly, fluidly, powerfully, she realized she'd only ever seen such control from professors.
She'd memorized spells and theory day and night, yet when danger came… all she'd done was curl up and shake.
"Charlie, you must study very hard, right?" Hermione asked.
"To master silent casting… you must've practiced endlessly."
Harry and Ron exchanged a look, barely suppressing their laughter.
Study? Charlie?
He slept through class.
Got others to write his homework.
Spent free time exploring with the twins.
And that counted as diligence?
Charlie nodded with absolute seriousness.
"Oh yes. Very hard. No pain, no gain."
Hermione nodded vigorously.
She'd guessed as much.
Genius still required effort.
His strength must've come from dedication and unseen struggle.
Her admiration only grew.
Then Charlie said:
"Actually, Hermione… if you really want to thank me, you could do my homework."
The hallway fell silent.
Hermione froze.
Harry nearly choked.
Ron's jaw hit the floor.
They begged Hermione for homework help and got entire lectures about responsibility and academic integrity.
Now Charlie had asked outright.
It was social suicide.
But astonishingly… Hermione didn't get angry.
She tilted her head, thinking, then her eyes lit up with sudden realization.
"I understand!" she said excitedly.
"Charlie, you're trying to train me!"
"...Huh?" Charlie blinked.
"Your spells are so advanced. Our first-year homework must be far below your level," Hermione reasoned passionately.
"But for me, repeating the work will strengthen my foundations!"
"So if I do your assignments, I'll learn twice as effectively!"
"Charlie… you're so thoughtful!"
Charlie froze for a moment.
"…Yes. That's exactly what I meant."
"Leave my homework to you, then."
Hermione nodded firmly.
"Don't worry! I'll do my best!"
Harry and Ron exchanged a look.
They both had the same thought:
Charlie definitely cursed her.
"Um… Hermione," Ron tried cautiously.
"About our homework- "
"Don't even think about it!" she snapped, glaring.
"Ron, you're far too lazy. Do your own work."
Ron wilted.
Charlie, meanwhile, was delighted.
Now Ernie wrote one set of homework.
Hermione wrote another.
His homework troubles were officially eliminated.
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200 P.S = 1 Extra Chapters