Arboreal Descent Suppresses the Snake-Lion

From Dumbledore's office, Charlie stepped out with a light stride and headed to the Great Hall.

Pushing open the heavy oak doors, the aroma hit him.

The rich scent of roast beef mingled with the wheaty fragrance of fresh bread, instantly stirring Charlie's appetite.

He walked straight to the Hufflepuff table and sat down next to Ernie.

Ernie and Justin were locked in a heated argument, both red-faced.

"The next Quidditch match is us against Gryffindor."

Ernie stabbed at the mashed potatoes on his plate, his voice laced with obvious worry.

"Their new Seeker, Harry, flies fast and well. Are we really a match for him?"

Charlie loaded food onto his plate while eavesdropping.

Justin swallowed a gulp of Pumpkin Juice and shook his head.

"Don't lose confidence like that. We've got Cedric."

Cedric Diggory, sitting across from them, gave a gentle smile.

His blond hair gleamed in the candlelight, and his gray eyes held steady confidence.

"Don't worry, I'll give it my all."

Cedric's voice was calm and firm.

On his first day at school, he'd taken the initiative to greet Charlie. Though they hadn't talked much, Charlie had a good impression of this polite, gentle upperclassman.

Justin then leaned in with a mysterious air.

"Harry's really good, but there's no way he's a match for Cedric right now."

"Why do you say that?"

"He and a few others got caught sneaking around at night by Professor McGonagall. She docked them ninety points!"

"Ninety points?" Ernie's eyes went wide.

"That's right! Even the Gryffindors can't stand them now. Harry's bound to mess up during the match."

Charlie chewed on the roast beef, a bit puzzled. Didn't Harry have an Invisibility Cloak? How'd he get caught? The kid was really slacking.

Just as they were talking about Harry, his voice came from the Gryffindor table next door.

"Neville, are you okay?"

Charlie turned to look and saw Harry bending down to help Neville Longbottom up from the floor.

Poor Neville was pale, his legs stiff—clearly hit by a Leg-Locker Curse.

Not far off, Draco Malfoy stood with Crabbe and Goyle, his platinum-blond hair glaringly bright in the candlelight.

A smug smirk hung on his face, his Wand still in hand.

"Malfoy." Harry's voice rang out angrily.

"Why did you curse Neville?"

Malfoy shrugged, looking unconcerned.

"Just wanted to test how well the new Leg-Locker Curse works. Longbottom's a perfect target, isn't he?"

Hermione hurried over, crouched to check on Neville, then raised her Wand.

"Finite Incantatem!"

Neville's legs regained feeling, but his face turned even redder.

"Malfoy, that's too far!" Harry clenched his fists, green eyes blazing behind his glasses.

"Too far?" Malfoy sneered.

"Potter, you're always surrounded by idiots like him. Tell me, what's it like hanging out with a bunch of losers?"

The nearby Slytherins snickered.

Crabbe and Goyle were practically howling with laughter.

Neville kept his head down, hands balled into fists.

His friends were standing up for him, but he couldn't do a thing. That helplessness weighed heavy on his chest.

Charlie set down his knife and fork, shaking his head in resignation.

He couldn't stand bullies, but if Neville always got picked on without fighting back, there was no point in stepping in for him. A person had to learn to fight for themselves.

Hermione pulled Neville toward the exit.

"Let's go find Professor McGonagall and let her handle this."

"I don't want to cause any more trouble." Neville's voice trembled.

The Gryffindors around him sat down wordlessly. You can never help someone who's given up on themselves.

"Be brave, Neville!" Ron encouraged him, but it had little effect.

Malfoy saw this and burst out laughing.

"Got to say, Longbottom, compared to those reckless Gryffindors, you really are the cautious one—cautious to the point of cowardice."

Neville clenched his fists. Once again, he'd dragged his friends into humiliation with him.

He really was stupid. As a kid, he'd nearly been written off as a Squib with no magical talent, so he'd never had confidence.

That lack of confidence showed in his magic, making everything he tried to learn come out wrong.

Taking the insults himself was nothing—he was used to it—but he didn't want his friends mocked by Malfoy because of him.

Neville remembered what Charlie had once told him: the tougher you act, the less people dare to mess with you.

At that moment, all the taunts coalesced in his heart. His fists tightened, his face reddened.

Malfoy kept going: "Longbottom, get in touch with your grandmother and drop out already..."

Before he could finish, Neville snapped.

He let out a roar and charged straight at Malfoy.

His right fist slammed into Malfoy's left eye socket.

"Ah!"

Malfoy screamed, crumpling to the floor, clutching his eye and rolling around.

The entire Great Hall went silent.

Everyone was stunned. Was this the same timid, cowardly Neville Longbottom?

"Neville! Way to go!"

The Gryffindor table erupted in cheers.

Seamus Finnigan jumped up and shouted, Dean Thomas clapped hard.

For Gryffindors, if you take a beating without fighting back, they'll look down on you.

But if you fight back hard, no matter the outcome, they'll genuinely respect you.

"Malfoy!"

The Slytherin students saw their leader take a hit and went berserk.

Pansy Parkinson shrieked as she rushed over, and the other Slytherins whipped out their wands.

"Help Neville! Fight the Serpent House!"

The Gryffindors weren't backing down either. Everyone stood up.

Curses started flying everywhere.

"Leg-Locker Curse!"

"Tarantella Dance!"

"Densaugeo!"

Multicolored spell light wove through the hall. Tables and benches crashed and toppled.

Students' shouts mixed with the explosions of spells.

Charlie watched with great interest from the sidelines. Scenes like this weren't common.

[Your Majesty incited the study companions to start a brawl, utterly shameless, Tyrant Points +10]

Charlie froze. Why me again? Always dumping the blame on me, huh.

He ignored the idiotic system and got ready to keep watching.

Suddenly, a red beam whizzed past his ear.

The Dancing Curse.

Charlie whipped his head around to see Ernie beside him, legs twitching uncontrollably, arms flailing in the air.

"No, no, I don't want to dance, help!"

Ernie's face was bright red, his voice cracking with tears.

Charlie's face darkened instantly.

Daring to mess with the little guy who helps me with my homework?

What did he ever do to you?

He slowly set down his knife and fork, pulling his Wand from his robes.

The black wood gleamed coldly in the candlelight.

"Finite Incantatem!"

An invisible wave of magic spread from the tip of his Wand, instantly covering the entire Great Hall.

All the flying spells dissipated at once. Ernie stopped his ridiculous dance moves, and the other cursed students returned to normal.

The entire Great Hall fell into a deathly silence.

Everyone turned to look at Charlie, their eyes filled with shock and disbelief.

Charlie slowly stood up, raised his Wand, and pointed it at the ceiling.

His voice rang out sharply in the silent Hall:

"Arboreal Descent!"

The power of magic erupted in an instant.

The tables and chairs in the Hall began to tremble violently, their wooden surfaces glowing with Green light.

Then they started to grow, twist, and deform.

Thick Vines burst from the table legs, climbing upward in a frenzy.

The armrests of the chairs turned into supple branches, swaying wildly in the air.

In the blink of an eye, the entire Hall became an ocean of Vines.

The students who had been brawling moments before were instantly entangled by the Vines, unable to move.

Malfoy was hung upside down in midair, his nose still dripping blood.

Pansy was bound by the Vines like a zongzi, with only her head poking out.

Even Harry, Ron, and Hermione were gently surrounded by the Vines—unharmed, but unable to move.

Charlie put away his Wand, sat back down, and continued cutting his Beef.

"When eating, keep it quiet."