Charlie saw the latest issue of The Daily Prophet.
The headline on the front page made him pause.
"Shocking! First-Year Wizard Makes Adult Witch Do This!"
A headline like that makes it hard not to open and read.
Just which first-year Wizard was so deranged?
Charlie raised an eyebrow, picked up the newspaper, and began to read carefully.
He realized it was actually an apology letter written by Rita.
The entire apology statement was written with extreme sincerity; Rita admitted that her previous reports were completely fabricated.
She publicly apologized to Harry, Hermione, and himself, and guaranteed that she would never again publish such false statements.
The protagonist is myself?
I haven't even made a move yet, why are you cowering?
"Charlie."
Senior Jenny excitedly ran over, holding a newspaper in her hand as well.
"Did you see it? That reporter finally apologized."
Charlie put down the newspaper and looked at Jenny:
"Senior, was this your doing?"
"Of course." Jenny proudly patted her chest.
"We teamed up with many students and parents to write complaint letters, completely flooding the Ministry of Magic's mailbox."
"However," Jenny lowered her voice and said mysteriously.
"The main influence wasn't us; it was the Lupin Family, who, along with six other Pure-blood Family, wrote letters to exert pressure."
Charlie suddenly understood.
No wonder Rita apologized so quickly; it turns out she was pressured by the Pure-blood Family.
The influence of these ancient families is indeed not to be underestimated.
Madam Augusta acted so decisively, which warmed Charlie's heart.
"And also," Senior Jenny continued.
"I heard Rita was also attacked by several mysterious Wizards."
"Several masked men broke into her office and gave her a Crucio!" Senior Jenny said gleefully.
"Serves her right! Who told her to write nonsense!"
Charlie wasn't surprised; for someone who spreads rumors and stirs up trouble like her, it was only a matter of time before her enemies came knocking.
Only one thing was strange: why was Rita retaliated against specifically after she spread rumors about him?
Days passed, and soon it was time for the final exams.
For Charlie, the exams were incredibly easy.
The Charms Class exam required a pineapple to tap dance; the more elegant the dance steps and the more agile the movements, the higher the score.
Charlie took an unconventional approach.
He made the pineapple grow ten legs.
Clatter, clatter, clatter, clatter, clatter, five times the enjoyment.
The pineapple tapped wildly on the table, full of rhythm, one pineapple performing like an entire dance troupe.
Professor Flitwick clapped his hands excitedly.
"Absolutely brilliant, full marks! Absolutely full marks!"
In Transfiguration, Professor McGonagall's exam was to transform a mouse into a snuffbox; the more exquisite it was, the higher the score, and if any part of the mouse remained, points would be deducted.
Charlie conjured an incredibly exquisite snuffbox.
It was made of pure silver, with intricate patterns carved into its surface, and a small gem inlaid on the lid.
Professor McGonagall picked up the snuffbox and examined it carefully, unable to find any flaws.
"Very perfect, Mr. White." A rare expression of satisfaction appeared on her stern face.
"This is one of the most exquisite Transfiguration works I have ever seen."
The Potion Class exam was even easier for Charlie.
Snape announced with a cold face: "Brew a Forgetfulness Potion, one hour time limit."
Charlie could brew it with his eyes closed.
Ingredient processing, heat control, stirring technique—every step was flawless.
An hour later, Charlie's cauldron contained a perfect Forgetfulness Potion.
Snape walked over to inspect it, and even with his demanding standards, he couldn't find any fault.
"Pass." Snape coldly uttered two words and walked away.
Charlie knew that for Snape to say "pass" was equivalent to full marks.
Herbology Class was a theoretical exam.
Although Charlie never paid attention in class, his mastery of Potions meant he had a deep understanding of various herbs.
He knew exactly what effects each herb had, when was the best time to pick them, and how to preserve and process them.
Getting an O on a first-year exam was effortless.
However.
The only subject Charlie couldn't handle was History of Magic, because staying awake in Professor Binns's class was practically an insult to the hypnotist.
Who could tell him which Wizard invented the Toilet Flushing Spell?
What's the use of such a Spell?
...In Snape's dormitory.
Lord Voldemort was listening to Snape's report.
Snape respectfully said.
"My Lord, today is the last day of final exams, and Dumbledore received a letter from the Ministry of Magic and has left Hogwarts."
Lord Voldemort excitedly straightened his upper body, letting out hisses.
That was the Parseltongue instinctively emitted by his body, but Snape evidently didn't understand, so he rephrased.
"Well done, Severus, next I will obtain the Philosopher's Stone, and you will continue to be a good spy at Hogwarts."
After speaking, he slithered out and entered a pipe.
Hogwarts' walls were filled with pipes, and as a snake, he could easily travel to the fourth floor... On the other side.
After the exam, Hermione was flushed with excitement, her face beaming with the satisfaction of completing a challenge.
"Oh my goodness, I almost didn't answer the last question on History of Magic!" she chattered as she put away her quill.
"Luckily, I reviewed the fourteenth-century Goblin rebellion again last night, otherwise that question about Uric the Oddball would have been a disaster."
Ron rolled his eyes.
"Hermione, you've said that three times already. And I bet no one in the entire year knows who Uric is except you."
Harry walked behind them, a sigh of relief in his heart, feeling completely relaxed after the exam.
After leaving the classroom, the trio slowly walked along the corridor towards the Gryffindor common room.
The corridor was quiet; most students had already returned to their respective common rooms to celebrate the end of exams.
Torches on the stone walls cast faint light, creating flickering shadows on the ground.
Suddenly, Harry stopped.
He frowned, a look of alertness flashing in his eyes.
"Did you hear that?" Harry asked in a low voice, simultaneously gesturing for his two friends to stop.
"Hear what?" Ron looked at him in confusion.
Hermione also stopped, her brown eyes looking at Harry.
"I didn't hear anything, Harry. It's very quiet here."
Harry closed his eyes, listening carefully.
The corridor was indeed very quiet, with only faint footsteps and occasional conversations echoing from a distance.
But beneath those sounds, there was something else.
A snake-like voice, with a cold tone, was whispering somewhere.
"...The Philosopher's Stone... must be obtained..."
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