Nearby, Senior Jenny's eyes lit up.
"An interview? Then we absolutely have to dress Charlie up for it!"
She'd been waiting for this excuse for ages. Normally, Charlie always found some excuse to wiggle out of her plans.
Now, several senior girls from Hufflepuff excitedly swarmed him, dragging him toward the common room like a prized prize pumpkin.
"Come on, come on, inside!"
"You're going to be dashing on camera today!"
Harry and the others were left standing in place, stunned.
Ron swallowed nervously. "Hufflepuff upperclasswomen… are terrifying."
Hermione nodded gravely. "That gleam in their eyes? Terrifying."
Harry looked sympathetically toward the struggling Charlie as he was dragged away.
"May Merlin watch over him."
That afternoon, Professor Sprout arrived at the Hufflepuff common room.
"Charlie, there's a reporter here to interview you. We'll need to head to the headmaster's office."
The way she looked at Charlie was filled with warmth and pride. She clearly adored this outstanding student.
Charlie, as if receiving divine pardon, quickly escaped from the girls' siege.
At his insistence, they only fixed his hair and added a few stylish touches to his uniform.
The glamorous robes and lipstick never made it to his face, thank Merlin.
Even if it didn't meet their ideal level of styling, Charlie did look especially dashing now.
His black hair was neatly combed, his uniform crisp and freshly pressed, and a fine Hufflepuff badge pinned proudly to his chest.
"Make sure to shine out there," Jenny called after him.
The headmaster's office was packed.
Dumbledore sat behind his desk, the light glinting off his half-moon glasses.
Professor McGonagall stood to one side, her expression serious but with clear admiration in her eyes.
Professor Flitwick bounced excitedly in his chair.
"This is simply marvelous!"
Snape, however, was nowhere to be seen. He'd been acting mysteriously lately, nobody knew what he was up to.
Seated at the center of the room was a woman with golden curls, gaudy spectacles, and a floating quill poised in her hand.
It was none other than Daily Prophet's top journalist, Rita Skeeter.
"Ah! Our little hero has arrived!" Rita jumped to her feet dramatically.
Her voice was sticky-sweet, but her eyes were razor-sharp, like a predator sizing up her prey.
"Mr. White, I've heard so much about you."
Charlie nodded calmly. "Really? How long?"
Rita froze mid-motion.
[Tyrant Point +1: His Majesty is skilled at psychological warfare]
Dumbledore and Flitwick chuckled quietly off to the side.
Only McGonagall's lips were twitching in fury as she gave Charlie frantic side-eyes.
Could you just behave for once?!
Without her, this school would fall apart.
"Oh my, such a witty young man," Rita said awkwardly, trying to recover.
"And so handsome too! I'm sure our readers will adore you!"
Dumbledore's voice remained gentle, but with a hint of hidden meaning.
"Charlie, Ms. Skeeter would like to ask you a few questions about the Soul-Healing Elixir."
"Of course, you may answer or refuse any questions you'd like."
Charlie took a seat opposite Rita, seeing nothing unusual.
"Let's get started then!" Rita beamed as her quill floated above her parchment.
"First, what inspired you to develop this potion?"
Charlie thought for a moment.
"I found some literature on soul trauma in the library. It seemed like a direction worth exploring."
[Tyrant Point +3]
The quill began scribbling frantically across the parchment, faster than Charlie thought possible.
He blinked in confusion. He'd said one sentence… yet the quill had written several paragraphs.
Rita smiled and asked again, "So, how long did it take you to develop it?"
"A few months, give or take," Charlie replied "honestly."
[Tyrant Point +3]
Again, the quill dashed madly across the parchment. Now Charlie was definitely suspicious.
After a few more questions, Rita had filled several sheets of parchment. Was there really that much to write?
Once the interview ended, Rita rolled up her parchment and stood up with a sugary smile.
"Thank you for your cooperation, Charlie."
"I'm certain this will make for a brilliant article."
"Oh! Almost forgot," she added, as if recalling something.
"I'd also like to interview some of your classmates and professors, to hear what others think about you."
Dumbledore nodded.
"Of course. Just be sure not to disrupt the school's regular lessons."
"Of course, of course," Rita said as she gathered her things.
"Although, there's something odd. The director of St. Mungo's came to the school with me… but I can't seem to find him anywhere."
"I was hoping to interview him too."
At that moment, the Director of St. Mungo's, Christopher Brown, was standing outside Snape's office.
As Snape's old friend, he knew the man far too well.
Cold and sharp on the outside, but secretly protective of his own.
When the healers had reported that a student had created a soul-healing potion, Chris instantly understood what must have happened.
Snape had clearly developed the potion himself and passed the credit to a student, grooming his reputation.
After all, how could a first-year student possibly create a potion of that magnitude?
What truly surprised Chris, though, was that Snape would do such a thing.
When did he become so… generous?
A wild thought suddenly crossed his mind.
Could that student, Charlie, be Snape's illegitimate son?
Honestly, that seemed more believable than a first-year pulling this off.
Chris knocked on the office door.
Snape's low voice called from within.
Chris pushed the door open and saw Snape standing at a cauldron, focused intently on potion brewing.
Orange flames flickered beneath the cauldron, the liquid within glowing an eerie green.
"Severus, you bastard!"
Chris stormed up to him.
"You developed such an incredible potion and didn't breathe a word of it?"
Snape's ladle paused mid-stir. He slowly looked up, dark eyes puzzled.
"What potion?"
He had been developing something recently… but it wasn't done yet.
Chris froze.
"You mean… you don't know?"
His eyes widened in disbelief.
"Everyone in wizarding Britain is talking about it today!"
He hurriedly pulled a rolled-up Daily Prophet from his coat and slapped it in front of Snape.
"Your s- student, Charlie, developed the Soul-Healing Elixir!"
"You didn't… give him the recipe?"
Snape's gaze dropped to the front page.
"The Longbottoms Regain Sanity, A New Potions Prodigy Is Born!"
His pupils shrank.
He had been secretly working on a soul-enhancing potion lately, one that might help revive Voldemort.
As a double agent, he had to appear utterly loyal, Voldemort couldn't suspect a thing.
Because of that, Snape had thrown himself wholly into the research, barely paying attention to anything else.
Now he scanned the article rapidly.
Soul-Healing Elixir… treatment for soul trauma… Charlie White…
His shock grew with each line.
He'd really done it?
And in just over a month?
A potion to heal the soul?
Snape, who had just recently begun dabbling in the theory, knew exactly how deep the waters ran.
And yet, while he still struggled with early trials, Charlie had already succeeded.
He'd written the boy off as arrogant, another Potter-style showoff.
But in the end… he was the fool who'd underestimated genius.
Chris watched Snape's expression morph from confusion to disbelief.
So… the formula really had come from the student himself?
<><>---------------------------------------
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💥> Naruto: Mind Control
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