The underground chamber fell completely silent.
Charlie slipped his wand back into his sleeve and watched Quirrell's eyes close for the last time. Then he stood.
He crossed quickly to Harry, crouched, and checked him over with care. Nothing looked broken. The boy had simply passed out. Whatever curse had hit him had burned through spirit more than flesh.
Charlie produced a small jar of moonlight and let a measured amount flow into Harry's chest.
He had barely finished when hurried footsteps sounded beyond the purple fire. The barrier split open. Dumbledore strode in, white robes billowing, face tight with urgency—
—and stopped dead.
Charlie turned slowly from the Mirror of Erised.
"You look a lot like Harry did when he first walked in."
Dumbledore's expression smoothed at once. He moved toward Harry, voice already curious. "Oh? Was he as startled as I am?"
"I expect so. He never imagined the man waiting in here would be Quirrell instead of Snape."
Charlie spoke without hurry, then asked, "And you? What surprised you?"
"The same surprise, only from a different direction. I never expected to find you here."
Dumbledore lifted one finger and traced two small circles in the air. A soft green mist gathered at the tip. He touched it lightly to Harry's chest—clearly some advanced application of a healing charm.
"There. I believe we need not worry about Harry for the moment.
Now then, Mr. Wonka—since you are the only one still standing—would you mind telling me what happened?"
Charlie nodded. He held nothing back. He told Dumbledore everything he knew of the events inside the chamber.
As the account unfolded, the headmaster's face grew steadily more interesting.
"So Voldemort is dead?"
"Yes. That is why I came." Charlie's tone stayed flat. "Though none of it would have been possible without Harry. My original plan was only to cause Quirrell a little trouble. I never expected Harry to inflict this much damage. And of course we must thank Professor Quirrell for rediscovering his conscience at the end."
Dumbledore's gaze drifted to the body on the floor.
"I never imagined he would choose to help you in the final moment. Without question, it was a heroic act."
"Perhaps." Charlie's reply was dry.
"You sound a touch cold."
"Spare me the performance, Professor. When Quirrell first stepped into the abyss, I never saw you try to pull him back. From the moment he chose to become the Dark Lord's dog, you stopped caring whether he lived or died. He became nothing more than another trial for Harry Potter.
Everyone pays the price for their choices. You believe that. So do I. Why call me cold for sharing the same view?
As for his final sacrifice—I acknowledge it. That is enough. Asking me to call him a hero? I cannot."
Dumbledore was silent for a moment, then shook his head with a helpless little smile.
"Very well. You are not wrong. Still, Charlie, I remain curious—why do all of this?"
"To settle a small score for my friend Miss Lely. Nothing more."
Dumbledore clearly had not expected that answer. He knew perfectly well that the Miss Lely Charlie spoke of was only a portrait. He blinked, then nodded.
"All right. I think we should leave this place. Shall we take Harry to the hospital wing first?"
Charlie agreed, though he glanced once more at the Mirror.
"Leave it," Dumbledore said easily. "It will keep."
He lifted a hand. Harry rose horizontally into the air as if floating on an invisible board.
The return journey was simple. Some quiet charm of Dumbledore's lifted Charlie as well, carrying them both along the long corridor and back to the fourth floor. Fluffy still slept soundly. Outside the hospital wing they found Hermione pacing in tight, anxious circles. Ron, Charlie guessed, was already inside.
"Harry!" Hermione rushed forward the moment she saw them.
Only when she confirmed that Harry was merely unconscious did she breathe again.
They delivered him to Madam Pomfrey. Once the matron had taken charge, Dumbledore turned to Hermione.
"There now, Miss Granger. Your friends are safe. I think it is time you returned to your tower and got some rest."
"Yes, Professor." Hermione nodded at once—then her eyes settled on Charlie and stayed there. She did not move. She was clearly waiting for Dumbledore to leave so she could speak.
Dumbledore understood perfectly.
He simply chose not to give her the chance.
"Miss Granger, if you and Mr. Wonka have matters to discuss, might they wait until morning? He and I still have a few things to settle. I need to borrow him a while longer."
"Oh… all right." Hermione had no choice. She walked away toward the towers with obvious reluctance.
Only after she disappeared did Charlie turn and follow Dumbledore upstairs.
A short while later they sat in the headmaster's office.
"I still have a few small questions," Dumbledore said as he settled into his chair. The teapot rose of its own accord and poured Charlie a cup. He tapped the desk; the sugar bowl slid forward two polite inches.
"What questions?" Charlie asked.
"For example—" Dumbledore's voice slowed. He kept glancing at Charlie. "The little one on your shoulder. What is she?"
Fiona's head jerked up in pure alarm. She realised her mistake a heartbeat later and dove straight down Charlie's collar. In the blink of an eye she vanished, leaving only a small lump under the fabric.
Charlie recovered almost at once and looked at Dumbledore with genuine curiosity.
"You can see her, Professor?"
"Not with ordinary eyes. But in another layer of perception I can sense her presence quite clearly. At first I doubted the impression. Only when you entered this office and Fawkes confirmed it did I become certain—there is a small living being perched on your shoulder."
Charlie glanced at the phoenix and gave a resigned nod. "So the bond between you and Fawkes is not a simple master-and-familiar arrangement. I have not heard him say a single word since we walked in, yet somehow he has already informed on me."
"I thought you would not ask so obvious a question," Dumbledore said, then smiled as the realisation struck him. "Unless, of course, the question is only groundwork for whatever you plan to say next."
Charlie gave a small, helpless laugh. "You give me too much credit, Professor. I genuinely do not know the nature of your connection with Fawkes. Most people never earn a phoenix's regard at all. Whatever exists between you is clearly deeper than the surface suggests.
As for me—"
He rested a hand on his shoulder and gave a gentle pat. Fiona stayed hidden a few more seconds, then finally peeked out from his collar.
"It's all right, Fiona. Say hello to the professor. No need to be nervous."
"Really?" she whispered. She settled carefully onto Charlie's open palm. He carried her across and set her on the desk.
Fiona could drop the concealment magic at will. It affected only humans, and she preferred to keep it in place by default.
Dumbledore's gaze followed Charlie's hand. The air above the desk beside the teacup twisted for a moment.
Then a figure the size of a thumb appeared.
Four delicate wings. A skirt sewn from strawberry leaves. A headpiece shaped like a strawberry blossom.
Fiona stood straight, hands folded at her chest, and gave Dumbledore a neat little bow.
"Good evening, Professor Dumbledore."
Dumbledore went perfectly still. His pupils trembled. Few wizards in the world possessed a broader library of knowledge than the one inside his own head. That was precisely why the impact was so severe.
To an ordinary child the sight would have been nothing more than "oh, a tiny fairy."
To him it was an entirely new species.
"H-hello, little one." He recovered quickly and smiled. "What is your name?"
"I am Fiona. Charlie gave me the name. I am the spirit of the strawberry flower."
"Strawberry flower…"
Dumbledore repeated the words, then looked up at Charlie. Something bright and searching moved behind the blue eyes. The instinct to use Legilimency rose—and was crushed a second later by deliberate will.
"Fiona was raised with sunlight and moonlight dew," Charlie said quietly. "You could say she is a child of nature."
"Sunlight… moonlight dew… nature."
"Charlie, there is no need for alarm. New species appear in the wizarding world from time to time, especially those bound to magic—"
Charlie nodded. "I understand, Professor. Even so, I would prefer you keep her existence quiet. I do not want the attention her presence would draw."