New Prophecy

"D-don't hit him anymore! If you k-keep going, someone's g-going to die."

Quirrell crouched behind a suit of armor in the corridor, cautiously poking half his head out.

The suit of armor trembled slightly. Peeves was hiding inside it, covering his mouth with both hands and not daring to make a sound.

Charles finally stopped and walked away without a word.

Peeves waited until the sound of his footsteps had completely disappeared, then waited a while longer before daring to come out of the armor.

Quirrell nervously walked over and removed the sack. When he saw the pig's head that even Lucius and Narcissa would not have recognized, he instinctively drew his neck back.

Peeves had never imagined that he would one day be sending a student to the Hospital Wing. He and Quirrell each carried one of Malfoy's limbs and hurried straight there.

Voldemort had used too much power to interfere with Harry's broom during the Quidditch match. Recently, he had remained silent, and could only sigh when he saw this scene.

An abandoned classroom was pitch-black, with only the faint sound of the wind. The cold winter wind poured in through the windows, freezing as an icebox.

All the desks and chairs in the classroom had been piled against the wall and were covered in dust. Charles casually found a chair and sat down directly, without caring whether it was clean.

Malfoy had not dared return to the Slytherin Common Room for three days and three nights. He rested in abandoned classrooms scattered throughout the castle, only daring to run to the kitchen for meals. He entered class at the last moment and left at the first opportunity.

But that was completely useless in front of the Marauder's Map. The moment Charles had his hands free to settle the score with him, he found him immediately.

Only after finishing the beating did he realize that he had originally intended to beat someone to vent his anger. He had not expected to become more and more excited as he went, eventually becoming somewhat addicted to it.

The cold air cleared Charles's head somewhat. Looking back, he had beaten people before, but he had never experienced this feeling. That made him realize that his mind had already been affected by Dark Magic.

He remembered traveling to Hangzhou several years ago. Old Man and Old Master Xu had been boasting by West Lake, and Old Master Xu had mentioned the relationship between magic and human nature. Negative effects had to be discovered and addressed early.

The method of discovering them early was not complicated. It was simply to "reflect on oneself three times every day"—remembering what one had done that day and examining oneself.

There were many ways to intervene, but the simplest was to eliminate the negative effects and prevent quantitative accumulation from eventually causing a qualitative change.

Charles sat there without moving, emptying his mind and thinking of nothing, to see whether he could clear away that emotion and prevent it from accumulating.

He looked as though he were simply sitting there quietly, like a statue.

No one knew how much time passed before the door of the abandoned classroom opened. Dumbledore walked in, followed by a tall mirror.

Dumbledore said there should be light, waved his wand, and then there was light.

"Ah!"

The classroom suddenly brightened. Charles nearly earned an achievement: scaring Dumbledore to death.

Dumbledore patted his chest and continuously drew in deep breaths. His long beard trembled with every breath.

Even someone as experienced as him would be frightened when, without any warning, a living statue suddenly appeared less than half a meter away, its fish-eyed gaze darting wildly.

Dumbledore had the mirror move to the innermost part of the classroom and stand there. He looked strangely at the little fellow before him and could not help asking, "Charles, what are you doing here? Did someone bully you?"

Based on his many years of teaching experience, a first-year student hiding alone in a pitch-black, deserted classroom had basically been bullied. If it were an older student, it was usually because of a broken heart.

"Just like sunlight passing through the night... Dawn quietly swept across the horizon..."

Charles suddenly began mumbling as though he were sleep-talking.

Dumbledore's expression suddenly turned solemn. Remembering that this boy possessed a talent for divination, he could not help holding his breath, afraid of disturbing him.

"A new storm has appeared... The Star of Death is flashing in the sky..."

Charles's voice rose and fell. Dumbledore listened carefully, but sometimes he could only see Charles's lips moving slightly without hearing a sound.

When Charles finished speaking, his lips stopped moving. A few minutes later, his whole body suddenly shuddered, like someone patting him on the shoulder just as he was engrossed in playing with his phone during class. His eyes then gradually regained their brightness.

"Ah!"

Charles was startled by Dumbledore's solemn expression and sprang to his feet. Somewhat nervously, he asked, "Professor, what are you doing here?"

He was a little worried that Dumbledore was about to say Malfoy had been beaten to death and that he was taking Charles to Azkaban.

"Charles," Dumbledore asked him with utmost solemnity, "do you remember what you just did?"

Charles shuddered, and cold sweat broke out all over him. I'm done for this time. He could only try to plead for leniency. "Professor, I'm very sorry. I'll never do this again."

Seeing how frightened he was, Dumbledore assumed he had scared the boy by being too stern. He therefore said gently, "It's all right. This isn't a bad thing. If possible, tell me about it immediately next time."

Charles relaxed. It seemed Malfoy had not been beaten to death, and it looked as though there would be no lasting effects.

Then he thought about it. Malfoy had been beaten by him for damaging school property, so the headmaster should have been furious too, probably wishing he could do it himself. That must have been why he had shown leniency and said it was not a bad thing. But Charles had gone too far this time, making the situation difficult to resolve, so the headmaster wanted him to report it immediately so he could deal with it.

"I understand." Charles nodded. "If it happens again, I'll tell you immediately."

Dumbledore nodded slightly, then asked, "I still don't have a clear understanding of what happened just now. Could you tell me the details?"

Charles thought the headmaster wanted to wrap things up more neatly, so he said, "Tonight, I found the classroom where Malfoy was hiding. I happened to see him come out, so I went over, covered his head with a burlap sack, and beat him."

"He didn't see me, and I didn't say anything. He definitely has no evidence proving that I did it."

"But Professor Quirrell and Peeves saw it. As long as they don't say anything, everything will be fine."

The classroom suddenly fell silent for a long time.

Dumbledore: "You were the one who beat Malfoy?"

Charles: "Huh?! You weren't asking about that?"

The cold sweat began pouring out of him again.

As a result, Gryffindor lost twenty points. Charles had just finished his second month of detention with Quirrell, and now his third month was about to begin: spending a month cleaning the castle with Filch every night.

Charles accepted his punishment, but he was completely baffled by Dumbledore's next questions.

"I just... divined again?" Charles's brows drew tightly together. "I don't remember any of it."

"Grandpa said this has happened three times. I didn't remember any of them afterward, but looking back, they were all correct. The accuracy was higher than when I was in a daze."

After hearing Dumbledore repeat some of what he had just said, even Charles felt that it was disjointed and nonsensical. It could be interpreted as Dumbledore or Voldemort dying. It could also mean the Soviet Union dissolving soon or a civil war breaking out in Yugoslavia next year. No one could possibly know what it meant.

"I'm sorry," Charles said apologetically. "I don't remember anything I said just now, and I can't determine what it referred to."

Dumbledore had no way to deal with that either.