Another Laborer Doing Homework

Professor McGonagall's gaze lingered on Hermione's face for a few seconds, noticing the tear stains still clinging to the corners of her eyes and her somewhat pale complexion.

She had meant to press further about why Hermione had been alone in the bathroom, but seeing the little witch still shaken and frightened, Professor McGonagall's heart softened.

From what she knew of Hermione, this little witch never lied.

"Miss Granger, in light of today's events, Gryffindor loses five points."

Professor McGonagall finally said only this, her tone stern but far lighter than expected.

Harry and Ron breathed a sigh of relief, having braced themselves for more points lost or even detention.

Just then, Dumbledore, who had been studying the troll all along, finally straightened up, his blue eyes glinting with wisdom behind his spectacles.

"Minerva's judgment is fair."

Dumbledore nodded, his voice calm.

"However, Mr. Weasley and Mr. Potter risked their lives to come to their friend's aid. Such courage deserves praise. Gryffindor gains ten points."

Snape let out a cold snort nearby, clearly displeased with the decision.

Dumbledore acted as if he hadn't heard and continued.

"Mr. White saved his friend..."

He paused, his gaze shifting to Professor Flitwick, who was watching him expectantly.

"And with that flawless nonverbal spellcasting, Hufflepuff gains twenty points."

Hearing this, Professor Flitwick puffed out his chest with pride, his smile brighter than a flower, as if Ravenclaw had been the one to earn the points.

As Charlie's Charms professor, a student's outstanding performance was the best testament to his teaching ability.

"Nonverbal spellcasting!" Professor Flitwick couldn't help but exclaim again.

"Mastering such a technique in the First Year—I've never seen such talent!"

Snape's face darkened further, and he shot Charlie a venomous glare.

This brat always brewed perfect potions in Potions Class, and now he'd shown off such superb spellcasting skill.

It left Snape with no grounds to deduct points.

"Now, each house is holding a feast in their common rooms," Dumbledore continued.

"If you head back now, you should still make it."

Just as everyone was about to leave, Charlie suddenly spoke up.

"Professor Dumbledore, what will be done with this troll?"

Dumbledore looked at him with mild surprise.

"It will be divided into magical materials for school use. Every part of a troll has high magical value."

No one sympathized with the troll—it was undeniably ugly.

Charlie's eyes lit up, and he said immediately.

"Then, as the one who defeated the troll, may I apply for the rights to some of the Troll hide?"

"What do you want Troll hide for?"

Professor McGonagall frowned, finding the request rather odd.

"I want to make a set of armor out of Troll hide," Charlie said without hiding his intentions.

Having just unloaded on the troll, Charlie was already coveting the idea—if he could craft armor from Troll hide, wouldn't he be immune to some spells?

The professors present were all stunned. An eleven-year-old Wizard wanting to make armor?

The idea was certainly creative, but also quite mad.

"Hahaha!" Dumbledore suddenly burst into laughter.

"An interesting idea, Mr. White. I approve your request."

"Headmaster!" Professor McGonagall looked worried.

"Letting a First Year handle such dangerous magical materials..."

"Minerva, no need to worry." Dumbledore waved a hand.

"Troll hide itself isn't dangerous, and Mr. White's display of skill just now has proven he's capable of handling these matters."

With Dumbledore's permission, Charlie was satisfied.

"Now, you may return to your dormitories," Professor McGonagall urged.

The students prepared to leave, with Harry at the back. He suddenly noticed something odd about Snape's gait.

That right foot was clearly avoiding weight, and through his black robes, Harry could see that his calf seemed to be bitten.

Stranger still, Snape was carrying a small bundle that gave off the scent of food.

Harry blinked, making sure he wasn't seeing things.

Professor Snape actually packing food for someone?

This was even more shocking than seeing him in a pink robe.

"Come on, Harry." Ron urged.

Harry hurried to follow, but the confusion in his mind only deepened.

After the professors watched the students leave, Dumbledore turned to Snape.

"Snape, how are things on the Fourth Floor?"

"Everything is intact." Snape replied expressionlessly.

"Someone did try to break in, but that dog stopped them."

Dumbledore nodded, his blue eyes glinting behind his spectacles.

"It seems our defenses are holding up." He paused, his gaze falling on Snape's right leg, which bore a slight limp.

"What happened to your leg?"

"Nothing serious." Snape said coldly.

"Just a bite."

Dumbledore raised an eyebrow.

"It seems Fluffy's temper is still as foul as ever."

Snape didn't respond, merely pressing his lips into a thin line.

Dumbledore's gaze shifted to the bundle in Snape's hand, a puzzled look crossing his face.

"I recall you ate quite a bit at the feast." Dumbledore said, feigning confusion.

"Why did you pack another portion? Planning a midnight snack?"

He paused, a glint of mischief flashing in his eyes.

"Or is that for someone else?"

Snape's face instantly darkened like the bottom of a cauldron.

He glared at Dumbledore, eyes practically blazing.

"If your observational skills were so sharp." Snape said, dripping with sarcasm.

"how did you let a troll into Hogwarts?"

With that, he angrily threw the bundle in his hand to the ground, swept his black robes, and strode away.

Dumbledore watched Snape's retreating back and gave an awkward smile.

Then he bent down, picked up the bundle from the floor, and muttered softly.

"Ah, well, waste not, want not."

Elsewhere, four students were heading toward their respective dormitories.

After the night's events, there was a bit of awkwardness between Hermione, Harry, and Ron.

Though the conflict had been resolved, before one side spoke up, both remained silent.

The corridors had returned to calm, save for the occasional laughter and music drifting from the common rooms, reminders that each house was holding its celebration feast.

"Charlie, thank you so much." Hermione suddenly spoke, her voice trembling slightly.

"If you hadn't arrived in time, I might have..."

She didn't finish, but everyone knew what she meant.

"It's nothing, we're friends, aren't we?"

Charlie waved a hand, acting casual.

But a strong sense of defeat welled up in Hermione's heart.

When she'd seen Charlie cast a Silencing Charm earlier, the smoothness and proficiency were something she'd only ever witnessed in professors.

And herself?

She studied like mad every day, memorized every spell and theory, yet in a critical moment, she could only cower in a corner and tremble.

"Charlie, you must work really hard, don't you?" Hermione couldn't help asking.

"To master a Silencing Charm, it must have taken a lot of practice."

Harry and Ron exchanged glances, both struggling to hold back laughter.

Hard work? Charlie?

Putting those two words together was more unbelievable than a troll learning ballet.

Charlie slept through class, had others do his homework, and spent his free time running wild with the Twins—that was hard work?

"Yeah, I do put in the effort." Charlie nodded with a straight face.

"After all, magic isn't something you can learn without effort."

Hermione nodded deeply. So that was it.

Even a genius needed diligence. For Charlie to have reached his current level, he must have put in unimaginable effort behind the scenes.

Thinking this, she admired him even more.

"By the way, Hermione," Charlie suddenly spoke up.

"If you really want to thank me, just do my homework for me."

The corridor fell silent in an instant.

Hermione froze, staring wide-eyed at Charlie.

Harry nearly choked on his own spit, coughing several times.

Ron's jaw dropped open.

Usually, if they so much as asked to copy her homework, they'd get chewed out.

She'd spout a whole basket of lectures like "Learning is your own business" and "Copying homework is disrespectful to knowledge."

And now Charlie was straight-up asking her to do his homework for him?

Wasn't that like slapping her in the face?

But to everyone's surprise, Hermione didn't get angry.

She tilted her head, thinking for a moment, then a flash of sudden realization lit up her eyes.

"I get it," Hermione said excitedly.

"Charlie, you're trying to train me, aren't you?"

"Huh?" Charlie looked completely baffled.

"With your strength, you must be studying higher-year magic," Hermione reasoned, growing more convinced.

"Those basic homework assignments in class are completely useless to you."

"But I'm different—I still need to solidify my foundation." She clasped her hands, eyes sparkling with excitement.

"If you give me your homework, I can do it twice and understand it even better!"

"Charlie, you're so thoughtful!"

Charlie stood there for half a second, stunned.

"That's right, that's exactly what I was thinking." He made the call on the spot.

"From now on, my homework is yours."

"You'll definitely become even better."

"No problem!" Hermione agreed readily, her face full of gratitude.

Harry and Ron exchanged glances, both seeing the same thought in each other's eyes.

Charlie must have put a curse on her.

"Um... Hermione," Ron ventured cautiously.

"What about our homework..."

"Don't even think about it!" Hermione shot him a glare.

"Ron, you're so lazy. Homework should be done by yourself."

Ron slumped in defeat. So much for equal treatment.

Charlie was in a great mood.

Now Ernie was writing one set of homework for him, and Hermione was writing another. His homework problem was completely solved.