Charlie picked up the latest issue of the Daily Prophet.
The front-page headline made him pause.
"Shocking! A First-Year Wizard Made an Adult Witch Do This?!"
With a title like that, who wouldn't be tempted to open it?
Just which first-year was deranged enough to pull something like that?
Charlie raised an eyebrow and began reading carefully.
Turned out, it was a public apology letter from Rita Skeeter.
The entire statement was dripping with sincerity. Rita admitted her previous report was completely fabricated.
She publicly apologized to Harry, Hermione, and Charlie himself, and promised never to publish such false stories again.
Wait, I'm the main character in this mess?
I haven't even made a move yet and you've already chickened out?
Senior Jenny came bounding over, waving her own copy of the paper, looking visibly delighted.
"Did you see this? That nasty reporter finally apologized!"
Charlie set the paper down and looked at Jenny.
"You guys had something to do with this?"
"Of course," Jenny puffed up proudly.
"We rallied a ton of students and parents to write complaint letters. Totally flooded the Ministry's inbox."
"But," she leaned in and whispered, eyes gleaming, "the real pressure came from the Longbottom family. They teamed up with six other pure-blood families and sent an official letter of protest."
Charlie immediately understood.
No wonder Rita folded so quickly. She'd been politically crushed by a pure-blood alliance.
The influence of these old families was indeed no joke.
And for Madam Augusta to act so decisively, Charlie's heart warmed with genuine gratitude.
"Oh, and one more thing," Jenny added gleefully.
"I heard Rita was attacked by some mysterious wizards."
"Apparently a group of masked figures broke into her office and gave her a solid dose of the Cruciatus Curse!" she said, practically laughing.
"Serves her right! Who told her to go around writing garbage?"
Charlie wasn't surprised. People like Rita, who profited off lies and chaos, were bound to make enemies eventually.
Still, he couldn't help but wonder, why did she get punished only after slandering him?
As days passed, final exams arrived.
For Charlie, they were laughably easy.
The Charms exam involved making a pineapple tap dance. The more elegant and rhythmic the footwork, the higher the score.
Charlie, of course, didn't take the usual approach.
He gave the pineapple ten legs.
Click-clack, clackity-clack, five times the impact.
The pineapple danced madly across the desk, bursting with rhythm, putting an entire troupe to shame.
Professor Flitwick was beside himself with joy, clapping excitedly.
"Spectacular! Absolutely full marks!"
In Transfiguration, Professor McGonagall asked students to turn a mouse into a snuffbox. The more refined the transformation, the higher the score, any trace of mouse would be penalized.
Charlie's snuffbox was exquisite.
Pure silver, engraved with intricate patterns, and inlaid with a tiny gemstone on the lid.
McGonagall examined it closely, unable to find a single flaw.
"Excellent work, Mr. White," she said, her usually stern face breaking into rare approval.
"One of the finest transfigurations I've ever seen."
The Potions exam was even easier for Charlie.
Snape coldly announced, "Brew a Forgetfulness Potion. Time limit: one hour."
Charlie could do this blindfolded.
From ingredient prep to heat control to stirring technique, he executed every step flawlessly.
At the end of the hour, Charlie's cauldron held a textbook-perfect potion.
Snape walked over to inspect it. Even with his legendary pickiness, he couldn't find a single mistake.
"Acceptable," he muttered before walking away.
Charlie knew full well, in Snape-speak, "acceptable" basically meant full marks.
Herbology was a written exam.
Charlie never paid attention in class, but thanks to his deep understanding of potion ingredients, he had comprehensive knowledge of herbs.
What plant had what effect, the optimal harvesting seasons, preservation techniques, he knew them all.
Getting an "O" in first-year Herbology? Easy.
The only subject Charlie genuinely struggled with was History of Magic.
After all, Professor Binns' lectures were so monotonous that not falling asleep felt like disrespecting the man's hypnotic craft.
Seriously, who invented the Lavatory Flushing Charm?
What's even the use of that spell?
Meanwhile, in Snape's quarters.
Voldemort was listening as Snape delivered his report.
"My lord," Snape said respectfully, "today marks the last day of term. Dumbledore has left Hogwarts after receiving a letter from the Ministry."
Voldemort immediately raised his upper body, hissing with excitement.
It was an instinctive Parseltongue hiss, Snape couldn't understand it, so Voldemort rephrased:
"Well done, Severus. I will retrieve the Philosopher's Stone. You continue playing your part within Hogwarts."
With that, the serpent slithered away, disappearing into a pipe.
Hogwarts was laced with countless tunnels inside its walls. As a snake, Voldemort could easily travel up to the fourth floor.
After the final exam, Hermione was practically glowing with joy. Her face was flushed with satisfaction, basking in the afterglow of academic conquest.
"Oh my goodness, I almost blanked on the last question of History of Magic!" she chirped, packing up her quill as she chattered.
"Thank Merlin I reviewed the Fourteenth-Century Goblin Rebellions again last night. Otherwise, that question about Urick the Oddball would've been a disaster."
Ron rolled his eyes.
"Hermione, you've said that three times. And I'm willing to bet nobody in the entire year knows who Urick even is except you."
Harry followed behind the two, finally feeling relaxed now that exams were over.
As they left the classroom, the three strolled leisurely through the corridor toward the Gryffindor common room.
The hallway was quiet. Most students had already retreated to their common rooms to celebrate.
Torchlight flickered against the stone walls, casting swaying shadows on the floor.
Suddenly, Harry stopped in his tracks.
He furrowed his brow, eyes flashing with alertness.
"Did you hear that?" Harry asked in a hushed voice, raising a hand to signal the others to halt.
"Hear what?" Ron looked at him in confusion.
Hermione also paused, turning her brown eyes to Harry.
"I didn't hear anything, Harry. It's completely quiet here."
Harry closed his eyes, straining to listen.
It was indeed quiet, just the faint echoes of distant footsteps and muffled voices.
But beneath those sounds... something else lingered.
A whispering voice, sinister, serpentine, echoing from somewhere unseen.
"…the Stone… I must have the Stone…"
<><>---------------------------------------
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Hello guys Fanfic recommendation!
Check out my other work:
💥> Naruto: Mind Control (Highly Recommended)
💥> Bleach: Sephiroth Template
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