Over the next few days, whenever Charlie didn't have class, he went to the Forbidden Forest to turn stones into gold. He'd nearly cleared that patch of stones out.
From a castle tower, Dumbledore watched the activity deep in the Forbidden Forest through a Crystal Ball.
The young Wizard's diligence left him both amused and exasperated. It was just directed toward something utterly absurd.
Every morning, Charlie appeared at the marked Oak Tree right on time.
Every evening, he left with a full load.
The Philosopher's Stone's original jewel-like, blood-red glow had dimmed considerably.
Dumbledore shook his head, wondering how much gold the boy would have to make before he was satisfied.
"Perhaps I should stop him."
"If I let him carry on like this, he might never be able to stop."
The old headmaster stroked his long silver-white beard, a complex gleam in his blue eyes.
Just as Dumbledore was losing patience, Charlie came to the castle's Seventh Floor of his own accord.
The stone steps echoed faintly beneath his feet.
Charlie stopped in front of the Headmaster's Office and studied the Gargoyle by the entrance.
The ugly Gargoyle stood motionless, its eyes shut.
Charlie tentatively knocked on the door.
Knock, knock, knock.
The Gargoyle opened its eyes and leaped aside.
The stone wall behind it slowly split apart, revealing a spiral staircase leading upward.
Charlie followed it up.
A faint trace of magic filled the circular room.
All sorts of strange silver instruments sat on the desk, buzzing and puffing out white smoke.
Portraits covered the walls. Some were dozing, while others watched the unexpected visitor with curiosity.
Behind the desk, the tattered Sorting Hat sat crookedly on a stand.
Dumbledore was seated behind his desk, holding a document.
When Charlie came in, he set down the parchment and gave him a warm smile.
"Mr. White, please sit down."
Dumbledore waved his Wand, and a chair slid over to Charlie.
"Would you like some sweets?"
Before Charlie could answer, a plate of exquisite candies appeared on the desk.
The colorful gummies gave off an enticing aroma.
Charlie sat down, mentally rehearsing how to begin.
"Professor, there's something I'd like to talk to you about."
"Oh?" Dumbledore looked at him with interest, as if he had no idea what was going on.
"What brings our talented student all the way here?"
Charlie took the warm red stone from inside his robe and carefully placed it on the desk.
The Philosopher's Stone glimmered faintly in the candlelight, noticeably dimmer than it had been a few days ago.
Dumbledore felt sorry for the Philosopher's Stone. After being squeezed dry for so many days, even the strongest ox couldn't take that much milking. It was all used up.
Sorry, Flamel. I didn't take good care of your Philosopher's Stone and let that blond kid drain it dry.
"I found this at school."
Charlie's expression was utterly sincere.
"I don't know who it belongs to."
As he spoke, he casually picked up a Lemon Drop and popped it into his mouth.
A cloying sweetness burst across his tongue, making him frown.
The candy was so sweet it made his teeth ache. He wanted to spit it out, but didn't want to offend Professor Dumbledore.
He discreetly nudged the plate of sweets farther away.
Dumbledore looked at the Philosopher's Stone on the desk, amusement flickering in his blue eyes behind his glasses.
"Did you really find it?"
His tone was casual, but Charlie keenly sensed the meaning behind his words.
Charlie's heart skipped a beat.
The headmaster knew the Philosopher's Stone had been taken.
But why hadn't he reacted?
More importantly, he wasn't going to take back all the gold I'd worked so hard to save, was he? Otherwise, I'd be a complete joke.
Charlie kept his expression neutral and continued chewing the lethal Lemon Drop.
"Of course I found it."
He blinked, looking completely innocent.
"On the Third Floor Corridor. I don't know who dropped it."
"But I know you're supposed to return lost things to their owners, so I came to ask the headmaster for help."
Dumbledore looked at him with a kindly smile, feeling quite pleased.
The boy had voluntarily handed over the Philosopher's Stone, which showed that greed hadn't clouded his judgment.
Even though the gold he'd made over the past few days could nearly buy half the Ministry of Magic.
"Thank you, Charlie. It's mine."
Dumbledore reached out to take the Philosopher's Stone.
But Charlie suddenly snatched it back, moving quickly.
Dumbledore's hand stopped in midair.
"What is it?"
Charlie gave him a strange look, the corners of his mouth lifting slightly.
"Professor, I found something so important of yours and went out of my way to return it."
He paused, his tone carrying a hint of mischief.
"You're a whole headmaster. Surely you're not going to offer me nothing in return?"
His eyes seemed to say, If you don't give me a reward, you're just a stingy old geezer.
Dumbledore was taken aback.
Who said this brat wasn't greedy?
Mammon himself must have a tattoo of Charlie on his back.
Dumbledore began to regret keeping an eye on Charlie.
Wouldn't it have been better to simply take the Philosopher's Stone back from the start?
Now the boy was openly shaking him down, and Dumbledore still had to pretend he knew nothing.
A helpless look flickered in the old headmaster's blue eyes.
He'd already thanked Charlie. Changing his tune now would make him look stingy.
"Then, Mr. White, what reward would you like?"
Charlie grinned.
"Professor, is there a way to carry a lot of space around with me?"
Dumbledore understood.
Charlie did want to carry all that gold around with him.
"There is." Dumbledore nodded.
"The Undetectable Extension Charm can expand an enclosed space, giving an ordinary box a vast interior."
Charlie's eyes lit up, but he quickly regained his composure.
There was no such thing as a free lunch. An old fox like Dumbledore would surely have a condition.
"However, if you want me to help, you'll have to agree to one condition."
Just as he'd thought.
Charlie didn't agree outright. Instead, he asked, "Professor, what's the condition?"
Dumbledore folded his hands on the desk, his expression turning serious.
"As long as it doesn't put you in danger, I hope you'll help Harry when necessary, if you're able."
Charlie paused.
He hadn't expected that condition.
He'd thought Dumbledore would ask him to study hard or restrict his use of the gold made with the Philosopher's Stone.
But all he wanted was for Charlie to help Harry?
Charlie smiled.
"Harry's my friend. I'm more than happy to help my friends."
Dumbledore nodded with satisfaction.
"Using the Undetectable Extension Charm on an object without permission is illegal, so I'll have to register it with the Ministry of Magic and get it approved first. It'll take a few days."
"I understand." Charlie had no problem with that.
The gold was buried there, after all. It wasn't going anywhere.
And since Dumbledore had agreed, he wouldn't go back on his word.
With the matter settled, Charlie stood to leave.
At the door, he suddenly turned back.
"Professor, your sweets are much too sweet. Eating so much sugar isn't good for you."
Dumbledore paused, then burst out laughing.
"Don't take away an old man's last pleasure."
Charlie shrugged and walked out.
The stone steps echoed faintly beneath his feet. Charlie was in a good mood.
He'd handed over the Philosopher's Stone, but he'd gotten something out of it too.
A box enchanted with the Undetectable Extension Charm would make carrying gold much more convenient.
In the office, Dumbledore watched Charlie's retreating figure, a thoughtful smile on his face.
He had agreed to Charlie's request partly because he genuinely hoped Charlie would help Harry at a critical moment.
Charlie's abilities already far surpassed those of other students his age, and were even on par with those of graduates.
Having a friend like that by his side would make Harry much safer when danger came.
Another reason was that Dumbledore believed in Charlie.
The boy liked taking advantage of others, was lazy, hated studying, had a sharp tongue, and loved playing tricks on people.
But the fact that he had voluntarily returned the Philosopher's Stone was proof of his strength of character.
To face a legendary treasure, boundless wealth, and eternal life, and still choose to hand it over instead of hiding it away for himself—how strong did someone have to be to do that?
After all, plenty of adult Wizards throughout history had been unable to resist the Philosopher's Stone's allure.
And Charlie was only eleven.
"What an interesting boy."
Dumbledore picked up the Philosopher's Stone from the desk and felt its dimmed Magic Power.
After several days of continuous use, the legendary gemstone was exhausted.
But it would recover after resting for a while, so it wasn't a serious problem.
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