Halloween Banquet

Charlie had been having a pretty comfortable time these days—sneaking out at night, going on adventures.

The only problem was, he hadn't done a single assignment.

He had to copy Ernie's homework every time, which left Ernie thoroughly puzzled.

"Charlie, homework is a piece of cake for you. Why do you still copy mine?" Ernie asked, handing over his Potions homework with a confused look.

Charlie answered with utter confidence.

"How could I waste precious time on homework?"

[Your Majesty neglects court affairs and indulges in pleasure. Tyrant Points +1]

The key point was the Tyrant Points. No studying = Tyrant Points, Tyrant Points = magical ability, magical ability = studying.

So, no studying = studying.

Good thing Charlie was in Hufflepuff. If he'd said that in the Gryffindor common room, some little professor would nag him to death.

Ernie sighed. "Tell you what—I can just do your homework for you, but I hope you can tutor me in Charms and Transfiguration."

Charlie's eyes lit up. "Deal!"

This trade was way too good to pass up.

The spells the system gave him weren't just instantly castable—he also had all the knowledge points memorized, more than enough to guide Ernie.

Over the next few days, Charlie lived an even more comfortable life.

Every morning, Billy had a hearty breakfast ready for him. Ernie did his homework. He kept sleeping in class, and after class, he explored everywhere with the Twins.

The only thing bothering him was the place guarded by the Three-headed Dog—he couldn't get in at all.

Even the Weasley brothers didn't know if there was a secret passage inside.

"Dumbledore definitely put special protective charms on that place," Fred analyzed.

"Otherwise, they wouldn't have a Three-headed Dog guarding it," George added.

Harry also told him that what was hidden underground was the thing Hagrid had brought back from Gringotts.

"Someone even broke into Gringotts trying to steal it. Good thing Hagrid and I got there first, so they didn't succeed," Harry said mysteriously.

Then came the day before Halloween. Charlie was sorting ingredients in Snape's office.

Don't ask why. During class, he'd conned Seamus from Gryffindor into blowing up a potion.

The result: Snape got covered in boils. Furious, Snape gave Charlie two months of detention.

Now Charlie had detention with Professor McGonagall on Wednesdays and Fridays, and with Snape on Tuesdays and Thursdays.

Charlie sighed helplessly. His detention schedule was more packed than a concert tour.

Just had to see who got Monday—then he'd hit the grand slam.

Snape stood before a messy pile of ingredients, staring coldly at Charlie.

"Sort and organize all of these ingredients," he said in that signature icy tone. "Silver Unicorn horn powder, viper fangs, Mandrake root—each one must be placed separately by year and quality."

Charlie glanced at the mountain of ingredients and cursed inwardly.

How long would this take?

"Professor, tonight's the Halloween feast," Charlie tried to bargain. "Could I—"

"Then you'd better work quickly," Snape said, a cold smirk curling at the corner of his mouth. "If you don't finish, don't expect to eat."

With that, he walked gracefully to his desk, sat down, and picked up a copy of the Daily Prophet to read.

His dark eyes occasionally flicked toward Charlie, making sure the kid wasn't slacking off.

Charlie gritted his teeth and started sorting the ingredients.

Ever since he'd drawn various potion recipes, he always brewed perfect potions in Snape's class.

That left Snape with no reason to deduct points, so he used this method to torment him instead.

Time ticked by, and the sky outside gradually darkened.

Charlie's stomach started growling. He sneaked a glance at Snape.

That old bat was still pretending to read the paper, but he was actually watching him the whole time.

Just then, Snape's stomach let out an uncooperative rumble.

The office fell into an awkward silence.

A flicker of discomfort crossed Snape's face. He set down his newspaper and cleared his throat.

"I'm going to the feast." He stood, black robes billowing.

"If I come back and find you haven't finished sorting..."

"I'll turn you into a toad and brew you into a potion."

Charlie curled his lip. Trying to scare a kid with that line.

Snape narrowed his eyes, gave Charlie a dangerous look, then strode out of the office.

The moment the door clicked shut, Charlie stood up and clapped his hands.

"Sort this, you big jerk!"

He stretched his limbs, ready to slip away.

But the feast was probably almost over by now—no point going.

"Billy!" Charlie called softly.

With a pop, the House-elf appeared in the office.

"Mr. White, what do you need?"

Billy asked respectfully.

"Get me something good to eat. I'm starving."

Charlie rubbed his stomach.

Billy vanished at once and returned in under a minute, carrying a large tray of food.

Roast chicken legs, pumpkin pie, Butterbeer—everything he could want.

Charlie carried the food over to the window and sat on the wide sill.

Outside, countless stars glittered, moonlight spilling over Hogwarts' towers. It was impossibly beautiful.

"Now this is living."

Charlie bit into a chicken leg, his mood bright.

[Your Majesty neglects state affairs and indulges in pleasure. Tyrant Points +1]

Meanwhile, Snape hurried to the Great Hall.

The Halloween feast was already halfway through. The long tables were laden with all kinds of delicacies.

Giant jack-o'-lanterns floated in the air, bats flitting across the ceiling.

"Severus, why are you so late?" Professor McGonagall looked surprised to see him.

"Researching potions," Snape replied curtly, taking his seat at the staff table.

Professor Flitwick chuckled. "Severus is always so dedicated."

"Workaholic," Professor Sprout shook her head.

"You need to relax sometimes."

Snape didn't respond, silently eating the food on his plate.

The professors paid him no mind—Snape was always like this, as gloomy as if he'd lost a wife.

The Great Hall buzzed with noise. Students excitedly soaked in the festive atmosphere.

Laughter rang out from Gryffindor's corner, while Hufflepuff students competed over who could eat the most.

Snape finished quickly. He set down his utensils and prepared to leave.

Just then, the Great Hall's doors burst open.

Quirrell stumbled in, pale-faced, his purple turban askew.

"Troll!" he shouted at Dumbledore, his voice trembling with fear.

"There's a troll in the dungeons!"

"I thought you knew."

With that, he collapsed stiffly to the floor, unconscious.

The Great Hall erupted. Students screamed in panic.

"Really? How could a troll get into the school?"

"But a professor said it."

"It's just Quirrell. Maybe he mistook a House-elf for a troll."

"Silence!"

Dumbledore rose to his feet and tapped his goblet with his wand.

Purple sparks shot from the wand tip, bursting in the air.

The Great Hall gradually fell silent.

"Prefects, immediately lead your houses back to the dormitories." Dumbledore's voice was calm, but carried an unyielding authority.

"Teachers, follow me."

The students filed out orderly under the Prefects' guidance, but tension still hung in the air.

Snape frowned.

How could a troll suddenly appear at Hogwarts? Who let it in?

"Severus, go check the Fourth Floor." Dumbledore approached, lowering his voice.

"Make sure everything is secure there."

Snape nodded, understanding Dumbledore's meaning.

The Philosopher's Stone was hidden in the Chamber of Secrets on the Fourth Floor—it had to be kept safe.

He strode quickly from the Great Hall, his black robes billowing behind him.