With a sharp crack and a burst of brilliant golden-red flames, the three of them reappeared in the Headmaster's office on the eighth floor.
Perhaps because he was prepared this time, William found the tearing sensation of phoenix travel far less uncomfortable than before.
Meanwhile, in the Gryffindor common room…
The fireplace crackled warmly, filling the room with a cozy glow. Charlie Weasley sat in the most comfortable armchair by the fire, holding an open copy of Standard Book of Spells, Grade 7.
Yet he was completely distracted. His eyes weren't focused on the page, and his fingers unconsciously folded the corners of the book over and over again.
Beside him, Fred and George were arguing noisily with Percy.
Ever since his conversation with Professor Shafiq the previous Saturday, Charlie had felt fired up and exhilarated for days. The professor's suggestion made perfect sense—pursue his Quidditch dream while saving money for future dragon research. The best of both worlds.
But once the excitement faded, hesitation inevitably followed.
Changing one's life plan was no small matter.
His family and friends all knew he intended to work at the Romanian Dragon Sanctuary after graduation. Since the start of seventh year, he had focused entirely on preparing for his N.E.W.T.s to meet the sanctuary's requirements.
If he changed direction now, he would have to completely rearrange his priorities—shifting from heavy academic study to the intense training required for a professional Quidditch career.
He only had half a year left. He couldn't pursue both at once. Once he chose, there would be no turning back.
Yesterday, Charlie had finally written to his parents. Today, he'd explained everything to his brothers.
And so, this was the result.
"What's there to hesitate about?" Percy said, pushing up his horn-rimmed glasses and waving his hands enthusiastically. "This is Professor Shafiq! A former senior official at the Ministry—he must know important people. If he writes you a recommendation to the Department of Magical Games and Sports, do you know what that means? It's a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity!"
"Oh, give it a rest, Percy," Fred rolled his eyes.
"Yeah," George added. "Professional Quidditch player or dragon keeper—both sound brilliant. We'll support you either way. Stop meddling."
"I'm analyzing his future!" Percy snapped, face flushed.
Before their argument could escalate further, a grey owl appeared outside the window, tapping on the frosted glass.
"It's Errol!" Charlie exclaimed, rushing over to open the window.
The elderly owl flapped inside and nearly collapsed into Charlie's arms. Charlie quickly removed the letter tied to its leg.
"It's from Mum."
The three brothers immediately crowded around him as Charlie carefully opened the envelope.
[Dear Charlie,]
[We were so happy to receive your letter. Errol arrived yesterday afternoon, panting terribly—I'm considering brewing him a herbal tonic. After your father got home from work, we spent quite some time discussing your letter at dinner. Ron and Ginny joined in too, though their suggestions weren't very helpful.]
[Your father has always thought Professor Shafiq is a reliable and far-sighted wizard. The fact that he offered to help you shows he truly appreciates your talent. If you want to pursue professional Quidditch, this is indeed a rare opportunity.]
[But what your father and I truly hope is that you choose this path because you genuinely love it—because flying makes you happy. Not because you feel pressured to earn money or support the family.]
[Recently, your father helped confiscate a batch of cursed Muggle books that bite readers' fingers. He received a bonus for his work, and Bill also sent money home.]
[So, dear, please don't feel any financial pressure. We're doing well. Choose the path you love most. Whether you train dragons or play Quidditch, we will always support you and be proud of you.]
[Write to us when you've made your decision. Stay warm.]
[Love,
Mum]
[P.S. Tell Fred and George that I've heard they've already been punished nearly twenty times this term. If we receive another complaint from Professor McGonagall, I swear I'll tan their hides with a broomstick when they come home!]
—
"I bet Mum won't actually tan our hides," Fred said, scratching his nose. "Worst case, we'll have to de-gnome the garden."
George didn't laugh. "I don't think things are as easy as Mum says. Ron starts school next year—wand, books, cauldron… that's expensive. She just doesn't want to pressure you."
"True," Fred said thoughtfully. "But don't worry, we can give Ron Bill's old robes. If needed, I've got some underwear with a hole in it we could patch up for him—every little bit helps."
"That's disgusting, Fred," Percy recoiled. "If we're saving money, I could generously give Ron my rat so he won't need to buy a pet."
"You just don't want Scabbers anymore," George shot back.
"I'm being a responsible older brother!"
Charlie didn't join the argument. Warmth filled his chest, and the weight on his heart finally lifted.
He folded the letter carefully and slipped it into his robe pocket.
"Alright, that's enough," he said, stretching. "Time for lunch."
They headed down the spiral staircase, Percy still at Charlie's side. "So, have you decided? Should I draft a thank-you letter to Professor Shafiq?"
"Yes," Charlie said firmly. "I've decided."
"But the thank-you letter can wait. First, I need to start saving for a new broom."
He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "My Cleansweep is ancient. Fine for the school team, but not for professional trials. I heard Nimbus is releasing a new series next summer—fast, but expensive. Looks like I'll have to give up butterbeer for a while…"
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