"What a great thing this is!"
"The Headmaster really said that?"
Charles had just stepped into the Gryffindor common room when he bumped into the Weasley twins, who were just on their way out. The moment they saw the note from Dumbledore, their faces lit up like Christmas trees.
At this hour, most students had already returned to their dormitories. The three of them sat by the fireplace in the common room, and after a short discussion, they came up with a brilliant plan: a few nights from now, on the way to the kitchens, they would accidentally take a wrong turn and end up in the Forbidden Forest.
"We've got something cool to show you!"
As they spoke, the Marauder's Map unfurled in front of Charles.
"Whoa!" Charles was completely awestruck seeing it for the first time and immediately began inspecting it with eager curiosity.
Fred grinned and said, "We found this beauty in Filch's office!"
George added, "We were planning on using it tonight to dodge Filch and sneak a peek at the Forbidden Forest."
Charles checked the time and asked, "Could I borrow it for just tonight?"
"No problem!" Fred agreed without hesitation.
George reminded him, "Watch out for Peeves. He can float through walls."
The twins could tell Charles wasn't inviting them along, but they didn't push—they just reminded him to be careful.
Charles thanked them and headed out of the common room again. This time, his goal was the Prefects' Bathroom. He figured that at this hour, no one would be there, and he could finally enjoy a nice, proper bath.
What was the password again? "Fresh Pineapple," wasn't it?
By the time Charles realized that was the password three years from now, not this year's, he had already been standing dumbly in front of the door for nearly an hour.
He imagined a beautiful older prefect girl passing by and kindly letting him in—but in reality, all that got closer was Peeves' singing echoing down the corridor.
The next morning, first period was one of the three Herbology classes of the week. Professor Sprout began teaching them how to cultivate Dittany.
She stood by Charles for quite some time, noticing how practiced his hands were—clearly the kind of hands that had spent plenty of time digging in dirt and tending to plants.
After class, Charles handed over a partially marked map of the greenhouse surroundings to Professor Sprout.
"You didn't get help from anyone, did you?" she asked, both surprised and pleased. "You got all of these right!"
Charles replied with a bit of pride, "I just asked Percy Weasley which books I should look at. All the herbs that can be planted outdoors are the safe ones, so once I narrowed it down, it didn't take too long."
Professor Sprout beamed. "Very good. You already understand the importance of safety when it comes to Herbology—that mindset is the most crucial part of learning this subject."
Charles seized the chance to ask, "Professor, I read about a plant called Moondew in one of the books. Can I try growing it?"
Professor Sprout replied seriously, "You can—but be prepared to fail the first time."
Charles blinked. "Is it because the plant is hard to grow… or does it attract bugs?"
Hearing his question, Professor Sprout looked even more satisfied and nodded. "Exactly. Moondew sap is incredibly sweet—bugs love it. So you'll have to come by regularly to keep them away."
During the second Defense Against the Dark Arts class, Charles sat in the garlic-scented classroom thinking, Pest control shouldn't be that hard, right?
How about an Avada Insect-Killing Curse? Or just borrow the basilisk to glare the bugs to death?
After class, he actually went up and asked, "Professor Quirrell, is there a spell that only kills living creatures without harming anything else?"
Quirrell stared at him in surprise. Was this really the kind of thing a first-year student should be thinking about?
The dual-socket lurking on the back of his head fell silent. A spell to kill without a trace—anyone asking about that was either dangerously meticulous, had been through something nasty, or was just ridiculously talented. Back when I was his age, I hadn't even considered ideas like this…
Different times indeed, the thing behind him thought. If this were the old days, I would've said: "We Death Eaters need bright young minds like yours."
But now was not the time for Death Eater recruitment.
Quirrell asked very seriously, "Smith, why are you asking about a spell like that?"
Charles answered sincerely, "I don't want to damage the herbs and flowers in the garden."
Quirrell "thought it over", then said, "It's wrong to harm living beings. I think the Jelly-Legs Jinx should work just fine. Plants don't have legs, so they won't be affected."
Voldemort, tucked away behind the professor's turban, understood the psychology perfectly well—killing with one swift strike versus subduing someone and then delivering the final blow... they felt completely different. The former might leave you with guilt, while the latter could awaken a taste for control and cruelty. Once that taste emerged, the path ahead would only get darker.
Charles considered it. That actually made sense. Plants don't have legs—bugs do. So just zap them and make their legs go wobbly—then cleanup would be easy.
Once he figured that out, he immediately said, "Professor, I'd like to learn that spell!"
Naturally, Quirrell was more than capable of teaching such a simple jinx—after all, he was a professor at Hogwarts.
"Watch closely," he said, raising his wand and demonstrating the spell slowly. Leg-Locker Wobble!"
A flash of white light hit a chair in the classroom. Nothing happened, of course.
Charles memorized the wand motion and incantation, gave it a try, and managed to produce a faint little spark. Not much else, but it was a start—he'd just need more practice.
Then he asked, "Professor, do you know the Shield Charm?"
Jack had already taught Charles the Protego spell, but he was curious how much it had evolved over the last century.
After watching Quirrell demonstrate, Charles noticed that the wand movements and incantation were a bit more complex now than they'd been a hundred years ago—but the effect was stronger, too. Probably because the threats students had to face nowadays were… let's say, more "ambitious." Especially the one dangling off the back of Quirrell's head.
Charles began thinking—if he analyzed the differences between versions, maybe he could work out ways to customize the Shield Charm for specific effects, like extra resistance to fire… or maybe add flashing lights for dramatic flair.
Sliding smoothly into diligent-student mode, Charles fired off more questions—asking about various dueling spells for resolving "disputes between classmates," like the Trip Jinx, the Knockback Jinx, the Stinging Hex, and so on.
At Voldemort's silent encouragement, Quirrell patiently taught him all of them. These were all basic schoolyard hexes—not overly complex and easy to demonstrate.
Both Quirrell and the Dark Lord himself were mildly impressed—Charles clearly had a gift for magic. He picked up the core concepts almost immediately; all he needed was practice to master them.
Charles got so absorbed in spell practice that he nearly earned a special achievement:
(End of Chapter)
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