Charlie had deliberately weakened each individual Stunning Spell, but drastically increased their number.
It worked perfectly against the pixies.
Every single one of the flying troublemakers was struck midair, dropping like flies.
Thud. Thud. Thud.
One after another, over twenty pixies crashed to the ground in a heap.
The students hiding under the desks narrowly avoided the storm, though a few unlucky ones who'd peeked out to watch the chaos caught stray shots and collapsed too.
As for Lockhart, standing center stage on the podium, he was the most obvious target.
A swarm of spells hit him square in the face. His eyes rolled back, and he collapsed like a felled statue.
Silence fell over the classroom.
Charlie flicked his wand, levitating all the unconscious pixies neatly back into their cage.
Then he pointed his wand at the downed students and muttered the counter-spell.
"Rennervate!"
Flashes of white light burst across the room, reviving the stunned students, and Lockhart, one after another.
Dazed, Lockhart sat up and blinked at the now-calm classroom. He hurried to regain his composure.
"Ahem! Very good!" he said, adjusting his disheveled hair.
"I was just about to step in, you know. As you're all aware, I have quite the talent for dealing with dark creatures."
He forced a grin. "But Charlie's spellwork was, ah, very well done."
"Hufflepuff, twenty points!"
The Hufflepuffs erupted in cheers.
"His spells didn't look like any standard Stunner I've seen."
"Merlin's beard, I hereby name him the GOAT of Year Two."
"Lockhart's useless. Can't even handle a bunch of pixies."
Clearly, anyone with half a brain didn't buy Lockhart's excuse. But the Hufflepuff students were absolutely thrilled by Charlie's performance.
As the commotion wound down, class ended.
Charlie planned to head straight back to his Undetectable Extension Trunk and continue farming.
He still had half the Whomping Willow cuttings to plant.
Lockhart, meanwhile, began preparing for his next class.
At Hogwarts, students might have it easy, but the professors? Not so much. Each one taught across all seven years, nonstop from morning to night.
Staring at the caged, unconscious pixies, Lockhart mulled over his options.
If students can handle pixies, then there's no issue with releasing them in class...
And next up is the second-year Gryffindor-Ravenclaw class...
Gryffindor has Harry Potter! If Charlie managed it, surely the Boy Who Lived can too, right?
Maybe I should even add a few more pixies...
Charlie had no clue what Lockhart was plotting. He was entirely focused on farming.
All afternoon, Charlie poured his magic into his plants. Through his palms, he transferred energy into every seedling, coaxing them to life.
Under his careful nurturing, the withered branches began to sprout, tiny green buds no larger than a grain of rice.
By dinnertime, he had finally finished planting all the cuttings.
He looked over the rows of fresh green sprouts, feeling deeply satisfied.
With consistent infusion of magic, these saplings would soon grow into a full Whomping Willow grove.
And because the magic within them had come from Charlie himself, they wouldn't ever attack him.
Climbing out of the trunk, Charlie headed to the Great Hall.
He hadn't eaten all day. His stomach was practically caving in.
Time to activate Feast Mode.
Roast beef. Mashed potatoes. Pumpkin juice. Honey cake.
Charlie devoured everything in front of him like a tornado in a pantry.
Just then, Harry, Ron, and Hermione approached.
"Good evening, Charlie."
Charlie looked up, and burst out laughing.
"Did Fluffy chew on you guys for fun?"
Ron and Harry looked absolutely miserable.
Their school uniforms were torn, their hair a tangled mess, and something suspiciously sticky clung to their heads. Ron even had a bite mark on his nose.
Only Hermione seemed mostly intact, her hair was a bit frizzy, but at least her clothes were in one piece.
"Don't even ask," Ron grumbled.
"That idiot Lockhart released over forty pixies."
"Over forty?" Charlie blinked.
"We only had twenty-something in our class."
"He said he wanted to 'give us a real challenge,'" Harry growled.
"And then one of the pixies stole his wand. He spent the whole class cowering under the podium!"
At that moment, Draco passed by the Hufflepuff table.
One look at Harry's pathetic state, and he lit up like a Christmas tree.
"Well, well, well... you don't say," Draco said dramatically, covering his mouth. "Surely no one got bullied by a bunch of pixies, right?"
"Get lost, Draco," Harry muttered, waving him off.
Draco gave Harry a dismissive sneer and plopped himself down on Charlie's other side.
"I'm not here for you, Potter."
The trio stared, dumbfounded, as Draco casually took a seat next to Charlie.
Harry, in particular, blinked hard, wondering if his eyes were playing tricks.
By Merlin's fungal toenail, he thought. There's no way this smug, prim-and-proper Malfoy is the same guy who was mocking us a second ago.
It was like watching two different people.
"Draco, what's up?" Charlie asked mid-bite, stuffing roast beef into his mouth.
Draco looked a bit hesitant, his voice tentative.
"Charlie, my father's coming to the school this weekend…"
"He'd like to meet with you."
Charlie stopped and looked at him.
"Your father wants to see me? Why?"
"Well…" Draco scratched his head awkwardly. "I'm not exactly sure. He just said it's something important, wants to discuss it with you in person."
Harry, Ron, and Hermione exchanged worried glances.
Lucius Malfoy was not known for his kindness. This ex-Death Eater wanting a chat with Charlie? That could only mean trouble.
Charlie gave a slow nod, thoughtful.
"Alright. No problem."
"I'll make time this weekend."
Draco looked visibly relieved.
"Great! I'll write to him right away."
As he stood, he shot Harry a smug smirk and lifted his chin proudly, like he'd just scored a massive win.
Harry barely held back the urge to punch him.
As soon as Draco walked off, Harry leaned over to Charlie and whispered urgently.
"Charlie, the Malfoys aren't good people. Don't you remember? His father was a Death Eater."
Ron nodded. "Yeah! There's gotta be some scheme."
"They might be planning to hurt you."
Charlie didn't seem bothered at all. He continued eating.
"I know what they want."
"Right now, the only thing I have that's worth scheming for... is the Healing Elixir."
"They're probably looking to do business."
He swallowed, picked up his pumpkin juice, and took a swig.
"Business is business. Doesn't matter who the partner is."
In truth, Charlie preferred the Longbottom family, he'd much rather collaborate with them.
But unfortunately, they didn't seem cut out for business negotiations.
Harry opened his mouth again, wanting to argue, but stopped himself.
Charlie clearly already knew what was going on. Harry's warning was unnecessary.
He also realized that it was perfectly reasonable for Charlie to cut a deal with the Malfoys.
He had no right to interfere.
Still, he couldn't help feeling... off.
And he wasn't the only one.
For the rest of dinner, Harry and Ron ate in moody silence, barely tasting a thing.
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