You Don't Understand What a Friend Is

You Don't Understand What a Friend Is

Charles finally reached an agreement with Snape regarding the processing fee for the Exploding Liquid. He also obtained a rough price list for the raw materials available in the Forbidden Forest, which would make gathering them easier.

He went to the kitchen and ate something. Not long after leaving, he ran into someone who immediately put him in a foul mood.

In the corridor on the lower basement level, Draco Malfoy stood in front of Charles with a mocking sneer in the flickering candlelight. Crabbe and Goyle grinned maliciously as they cracked their knuckles.

Malfoy snarled at Charles, "There are three of us, and only one of you. If you beg for mercy now, I might consider letting you off."

Charles suddenly burst out laughing. The scene reminded him of two little punks from his previous life, threatening him over the last empty table at a late-night food stall. When more than twenty workers eating roast-duck rice noodles at the other five tables gathered around, and someone said they would take the two brats to a construction site to use as a foundation pillar, one of them had been so terrified that he had cried from both ends right there.

"Three people?" Charles shook his head. "What I see isn't three people. It's one person, one person, and another person."

Malfoy was a little confused by the way he had put it. Frowning, he asked, "What's the difference?"

Charles smiled and asked him, "Malfoy, do you have any friends?"

Malfoy said disdainfully, "Crabbe and Goyle are my friends."

Charles smiled and shook his head, looking at Malfoy with pity. The look made Malfoy very uncomfortable.

"You've never had any friends," Charles said firmly. "There are no friends around you, and you don't know what friendship is, so you mistakenly think your followers are your friends."

"Malfoy, when you're troubled, do you confide in them? Do you secretly tell them which girl you like? When one of them is frowning in worry, do you take the initiative to ask why and help them solve their problems? When you encounter something fun, do you share it with the two of them?"

"Crabbe, Goyle, do you really regard Malfoy as a friend? When something happy happens, do you share it with Malfoy? When you do things for him, are you truly willing, or have you ever felt even the slightest hesitation or disgust? If you heard that he was fighting older students, would you rush to help him without a second thought?"

"Malfoy, I've heard how you treat Crabbe and Goyle even in Gryffindor. Every day, besides insulting them, you boast in front of them. Once you're done bragging, if they don't flatter you promptly, you give them the cold shoulder or even curse them out."

"Leaving aside friendship, do you even regard them as equals—equal Slytherin students? In your eyes, the only difference between them and House-elves is probably their skin color and height."

"Malfoy, if one day you fell into the water and were about to die, but there were piranhas in the water, and anyone who went down to save you would have their toes bitten off, do you think Crabbe and Goyle would jump in to save you?"

After Charles finished speaking, he looked at Malfoy sympathetically. The boy was rather pitiful. And when he turned to look at Crabbe and Goyle, only for the two of them to turn their heads away and avoid his gaze, he seemed even more pitiful.

Many pitiful people who had never experienced friendship were just like them. They mistook followers for friends, while judging others by themselves and mistaking other people's friends for followers. They believed that helping one another between friends meant licking each other's feet. Truly, what one saw depended on what one had in one's eyes.

Charles ignored them and left the lower basement level, heading to Professor Quirrell's office to continue organizing today's Charms and Potions materials.

"Did you run into something infuriating just now?" Voldemort's ability to read people's expressions was surprisingly good.

"Nothing." Charles shook his head. "I just ran into Peeves."

Today, Voldemort was no longer pacing around. Instead, he sat behind the desk and read.

Charles curiously glanced at the book cover and instantly felt as though five thunderbolts had struck him.

"Professor Quirrell," he asked curiously, "what is Gilderoy Lockhart's Guide to Breaking Up with Ghouls about?"

Voldemort answered, "It's Gilderoy Lockhart's autobiography. Quite a few of the methods for dealing with danger mentioned in it are useful."

Charles was stunned. He had seen Gilderoy Lockhart's books in the bookstore. Their covers were exceptionally exquisite and beautiful, but he had not bought one because the author was a fraud. He had never expected the Dark Lord to personally deem one useful.

But thinking about it, that was not entirely wrong. The author was fake, but the victims' experiences inside were completely genuine. They had merely undergone a little artistic embellishment.

"Smith," Voldemort suddenly said, "you'll make another mistake next month, won't you?"

"Huh?!" Charles froze. "I'm a good student!"

Voldemort ignored him and continued speaking to himself. "I need someone to organize the methods for dealing with all kinds of dangers in the book. Once you finish organizing the curses, start on that task."

A month later, on the day after this detention ended, Charles was punished with another month of detention because he had entered the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom with his left foot first.

Charles did not know about what would happen later yet. After thinking of something, he asked Voldemort, "Professor, do you know how to use the Disillusionment Charm and the Silencing Charm?"

Voldemort asked him in surprise, "You want to learn?"

Charles nodded. The Disillusionment Charm made one invisible, while the Silencing Charm removed the sound of footsteps. With the two combined, he could sneak behind an enemy and cast whatever spell he wanted at their kidneys.

Voldemort thought he merely wanted to avoid being caught by Filch while wandering the castle at night. Without giving it much thought, he raised his wand and said, "These two charms are very simple. The Disillusionment Charm is used like this..."

Under his spell, a stack of assignments of unknown year level on the desk vanished without a trace.

Charles watched carefully, then immediately took out his wand and tried it on the books on his own desk. The result was an effect with seventy-five percent transparency.

Voldemort was somewhat surprised. Is this fellow really learning Charms that quickly?

That night, Charles did not organize many curses. He barely mastered the Disillusionment Charm and the Silencing Charm, and was able to leave once the time came.

Before leaving, he suddenly remembered something. "Professor Quirrell, I might not be able to come on Saturday and Sunday nights. I have to visit the Centaurs."

Voldemort said indifferently, "Then take all of this with you. I remember you have a Bag of Holding. Work on it there whenever you have time."

Charles smiled and thanked him. Then he packed the books and the desk together into the Bag of Holding and carried them away.

After Charles left, Voldemort began to laugh.

In his view, with Voldemort there, Charles would not dare casually look through the books in the Restricted Section. When no one was supervising him, however, he would certainly become curious and flip through them recklessly.

As long as Charles began taking an interest in the curses in the books, his goal would be achieved.

Meanwhile, Charles began thinking in the bathtub of the Room of Requirement's bathroom. Voldemort being so agreeable probably meant he was offering favors for no reason. If it was not treachery, it was theft; there was certainly some scheme behind it.

But that problem could wait. The most urgent matter now was to master the second spell the Old Man had given him at the Centaurs' settlement. That Eastern spell looked rather flashy when used.

I'm always feeling sleepy.