The Argument Erupts, Charlie is Unhappy

The night at Hogwarts Castle was especially quiet.

Slow footsteps echoed on the stone steps as Snape made his way to the Eighth Floor.

His face was even more sullen than usual.

The Stone Beast guarding the Headmaster's Office had already stepped aside.

Snape strode straight up the Spiral Staircase and pushed open the office door without knocking.

Dumbledore sat behind his desk, holding a heavy ancient tome in his hands.

Seeing Snape enter, he slowly looked up, his blue eyes glinting behind his spectacles.

"Severus." Dumbledore nodded gently.

"Coming to see me this late must mean something important."

Snape stopped in front of the desk, bracing his hands on its surface.

"Quirrell is possessed by the Dark Lord."

Dumbledore blinked, his expression instantly shifting to surprise.

He set down the book and leaned forward.

"What? Are you certain?"

Snape narrowed his eyes, a sneer in his voice.

"Stop pretending, Dumbledore."

"You've known all along, haven't you."

Dumbledore froze, then coughed awkwardly.

"Severus, you're still as sharp as ever."

"Since you knew, why didn't you deal with him?" Snape's teeth clenched.

"You let a man possessed by the Dark Lord return to the school as a teacher. Do you have any idea how dangerous that is for the students?"

Dumbledore looked at Snape with a knowing gaze.

"Oh, it seems you care deeply about the students' safety too."

Snape's face instantly hardened. He stepped back and said coldly, "I'm just afraid that if the students get hurt, it'll affect the school."

"If the school has problems, it'll affect me in turn."

Dumbledore's face showed an expression that said he understood everything.

"No need to explain, no need to explain." The corner of his mouth lifted slightly.

"I understand."

Snape's eyes narrowed even further.

That look on the Headmaster's face... that damned expression, why did it remind him of some Hufflepuff bastard?

Dumbledore sat up straight, his expression turning serious again.

"It's not that I don't want to deal with Voldemort, Severus."

"It's that I can't."

"I haven't yet figured out the reason for Voldemort's immortality." Dumbledore continued.

"Though he's only in a soul state now, with a few methods, he could reshape a physical body."

Snape frowned and paced a few steps around the office.

The hum of silver instruments cut through the silence, sharp and clear.

"So you placed the Philosopher's Stone in the school."

"And set up those childish obstacles, just to lure the Dark Lord here?"

Dumbledore didn't answer, but his silence said it all.

Snape let out a cold laugh and pressed closer.

"And how do you guarantee the Stone won't fall into his hands? With those traps of yours?"

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

"Oh, wait. Those traps aren't meant to stop the Dark Lord, are they?"

Dumbledore remained silent, merely watching him quietly.

Snape took a few more steps around the office, the threads in his mind growing clearer.

"Those traps are meant to test someone, aren't they." He turned, his black eyes boring into Dumbledore.

"And that someone is your real defense against the Dark Lord. Let me guess..."

His voice grew even more sardonic.

"It's Harry, isn't it."

Dumbledore slowly nodded.

Snape froze.

He opened his mouth, as if about to say something, but in the end only let out a sardonic laugh.

"Oh, you have me protect him, and now you send him to die. Sometimes I truly don't understand you, Dumbledore."

Dumbledore stood up, walked around his desk, and came before Snape.

He looked straight into Snape's eyes, his voice turning earnest and firm.

"I'm not sending him to die, Severus."

"Harry will be fine. I promise."

Snape stared at Dumbledore for a long time.

Finally, Snape gave a cold snort.

"Let's hope so."

He turned and strode toward the door.

Dumbledore sighed. Sometimes he really understood why the students feared Severus—when he got serious, he was truly intimidating.

Ever since Charlie had amiably mediated the conflict between the Lion House and the Serpent House, his fame had only grown.

Now wherever he went, people looked at him and whispered to their companions.

Students in the corridors would stop and point.

At meals in the Great Hall, his housemates would wait for Charlie to take food first.

That evening after dinner, Charlie returned to the common room.

The warm fireplace crackled, orange-red flames dancing on the stone walls.

Several cozy sofas were arranged around the hearth, and the wool rug felt soft underfoot.

Charlie picked a sofa at random and sat down, ready to digest his meal.

On the sofa nearby, a few pretty senior girls were murmuring about something, occasionally glancing his way.

Their voices were low, but Charlie could still catch fragments.

"His skin is so nice, looks so smooth."

"He's only First Year..."

Charlie pretended not to hear, closing his eyes and leaning back against the sofa.

Just then, one of the pretty seniors, Jenny, stood up and walked over to Charlie.

"Charlie."

Jenny's voice was very soft, carrying that particular tone of a Fifth Year senior.

She had chestnut curls and beautiful light brown eyes.

Charlie opened his eyes and looked at her.

"Senior Jenny, something on your mind?"

Jenny sat down beside Charlie, leaning forward slightly.

"How did you get so good at Transfiguration?"

Her eyes sparkled with curiosity.

Charlie sighed like one who stands alone at the summit.

"All talent and sweat."

Jenny's eyes lit up, and she reached out to knead Charlie's shoulders.

"Then will you teach me?"

Her fingers gently worked at his shoulders.

"I'll give you a massage."

Charlie felt the relaxation in his shoulders and glanced at Jenny.

It was indeed comfortable—the day's fatigue slowly melting away under her fingers.

"Well, let's see how the senior performs."

Hearing this, Jenny kneaded his shoulders with even more effort.

Her technique was clumsy, but the pressure was just right, making Charlie squint his eyes in comfort.

Just then, the other pretty seniors also came over.

"I want to learn Transfiguration too!"

"Charlie, teach us too!"

"Yeah, yeah, we all want to learn!"

A few older girls chirped as they crowded around, and without waiting for Charlie to speak, they started assigning tasks themselves.

"I'll massage your head."

A black-haired girl said as she sat down behind Charlie, her slender fingers beginning to gently knead his temples.

"I'll do your legs!"

Another girl crouched in front of the sofa and started massaging Charlie's calves.

"Then I'll feed you!"

The last girl grabbed a fruit platter from the table and started feeding Charlie.

With treatment like this, what else was there to say? Might as well teach them.

Charlie enjoyed the pampering with a clear conscience.

Four pretty older girls fussing over him—the scene drew plenty of attention across the entire common room.

The girls, seeing their plan succeed, began whispering among themselves.

"Just as firm as I thought."

"So satisfying to squeeze..."

Hah, shallow women. They're just after my body, pretending they want to learn Transfiguration.

Listening to their whispers, Charlie was in a good mood.

This Lonely One has been working hard all day—what's wrong with enjoying a little pampering?

Besides, friendly interaction with so many girls—those Tyrant Points were bound to skyrocket.

[Your Majesty enjoys being served by multiple beauties, Tyrant Points +2]

[Also, Your Majesty, don't get your hopes up for things you can't do yet. You're only eleven.]

Charlie: "???"

I'm suing you for slander! What did this little virgin ever do to you?

Just as Charlie was about to argue with the system, Ernie rushed into the common room in a hurry.

He froze for a moment at the sight of Charlie surrounded by four older girls, then quickly ran over.

"Charlie!"

"Filch is looking for you outside. Says it's detention with Professor McGonagall."