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Late at night.
Deep in the second-floor corridor.
Lely lay sprawled across the windowsill, bored out of her mind. The little oil lamp above her head cast a soft glow. To the left of her frame, a black panther curled into a tight circle, yawning as it kept a wary eye on both directions.
This was the painting Charlie had added for extra security—a black panther with no other purpose than to stand guard. If any idiot decided to cause trouble, the panther would handle it.
The drunk from the Gin Lane painting had already learned that lesson the hard way.
Maybe I should head back to the Ravenclaw dormitory, Lely thought. Even if there wasn't much to do there, at least the view would be different.
Just as she was debating it, hurried footsteps echoed from one end of the corridor.
A figure came stumbling toward her at speed.
The silhouette had a huge head on a thin body. He lurched as he walked, one hand braced against the wall for support, breathing hard like he was at the end of his strength.
He reached Lely's painting quickly. She got a clear look at his face.
Professor Quirrell.
"You—hello—"
Lely straightened up at once, slipping into shopkeeper mode. She placed both hands flat on the windowsill and gave a polite nod. "Hello."
"I want Moonlight. All of it!"
"All of it?" Lely blinked, surprised.
"Yes. All of it." Quirrell nodded.
Lely quickly counted what she had left. "Sir, we only have twelve Moonlight chocolates right now. If—"
"Now. Hurry!" He braced one hand on the wall, face deathly pale, eyes sharp and hard. He cut her off without letting her finish.
Lely didn't dare argue. She moved fast, sliding every last piece of Moonlight chocolate into the drawer for him.
Quirrell snatched them all, tore open several at once and shoved them into his mouth, then tossed the money down and hurried away without another word.
Lely watched his retreating back, frowning. "This… this isn't normal, right?"
---
"You're saying Quirrell came rushing in last night and bought every single Moonlight chocolate we had?" Charlie asked, looking at the painting in front of him.
It was morning. He had only just woken up.
Two minutes earlier, still half-asleep and rubbing his eyes, the first thing he'd noticed was Lely staring at him with urgent intensity. She had clearly been waiting there all night just to catch him the moment he woke.
Because of that, Charlie now knew exactly what had happened.
"I've got it," he said with a small nod and a smile. "You did the right thing. Anything like that, you tell me immediately."
Lely beamed. "Thank you, Mr. Wonka. Also, we're out of Moonlight chocolate. Should I make more?"
"Of course," Charlie said. "Come back tonight. I'll have them ready."
"Alright." Lely waved. "Then I'll head back for now, sir."
Once she was gone, Charlie rubbed his face and headed for the bathroom.
As he walked, he turned the problem over in his mind. What did Quirrell need Moonlight for?
He ran through the protections guarding the Stone. Chocolate didn't seem to play any obvious role in any of them.
Unless Quirrell was planning to use it to poison Fluffy. That would be a stretch.
Charlie shook his head with a wry smile. That idea was too far-fetched.
But one thing was clear: Quirrell hadn't bought the chocolates because he liked the taste or wanted the experience. He had a specific, serious need.
Charlie leaned over the cold sink, splashed water on his face, and closed his eyes. He let his mind settle, going quiet and clear.
Moonlight… brain, mind, soul, spirit…
A thought struck him suddenly.
Quirrell and Voldemort shared one body. That had to come with serious side effects. In the original story, that was why Quirrell ended up hunting unicorns.
Could Moonlight be easing the strain of two souls in one body?
Charlie didn't know everything Moonlight could do, but his gut told him the theory made sense.
He'd treat it as true for now. If he was right, Quirrell would definitely come back for more.
He straightened his collar and hair, rolled his shoulders, and left the bathroom looking sharp.
Quirrell's late-night shopping spree didn't occupy Charlie for long. He had bigger things on his mind these days.
March was almost here.
---
Eighth floor. Alchemy workshop.
Charlie lifted his head from the desk and glanced sideways at the flowerpot.
The strawberry plant had grown dozens of small white flowers. The huge central bud was now larger than a fist.
It still showed no sign of opening.
Charlie had been extremely careful. He hadn't dared pollinate the smaller flowers or thin anything out. For now, all his attention stayed on that massive bud. It looked like it would bloom any day.
"Come on, open already," he muttered. He couldn't sit here watching it twenty-four hours a day.
He stared at it a moment longer, then rubbed his eyes and forced his focus back to the giant sheet of parchment spread across his desk.
Designing an automatic Moonlight collector was turning out to be a lot harder than he'd expected.
Progress had been slow, but at least he was moving forward.
He grabbed a fresh sheet of scrap parchment and started calculating again, crossing things out and rewriting.
Time slipped by while he worked. One tricky problem after another slowly unraveled under his concentration.
When he finally looked up and let out a long breath, exhaustion had settled deep into his bones.
He checked his pocket watch.
7:23 p.m.
"Damn it!"
Charlie cursed under his breath and pushed back from the desk. He'd almost missed dinner again.
He needed to move fast or he'd go hungry.
He turned toward the flowerpot out of habit.
His eyes went wide.
The enormous bud in the center had opened.
The flower was the size of a hand, beautiful and fully bloomed.
Charlie circled it slowly. So far it looked completely ordinary.
Was he really just going to grow a giant magical strawberry?
Should he pollinate it himself? Pinch off the smaller flowers so all the nutrients went to this one?
He thought about it for a few seconds, then shook his head.
Better not make any rash decisions. He'd ask Professor Sprout tomorrow. When it came to plants, no one was more knowledgeable than her.
Decision made, he stopped staring at the flower. He grabbed his robe from the stool, pulled it on, and left the workshop in a hurry.
---
After he was gone, the corridor outside the Room of Requirement on the eighth floor stayed quiet for a moment.
Then a tiny black figure—no more than ten centimeters tall—appeared out of nowhere.
It stood there with one delicate little hand resting on its chin, head turning slowly as it looked around with wide, curious eyes.