Bane stayed silent for the rest of the walk. They moved quietly until they reached the edge of the Forbidden Forest.
Charlie slid down from the broad back. The little unicorn immediately pressed against him again. He looked at it with a helpless expression and gave its forehead a light pat.
"Go on," he said.
Not long after they left the trees, Dumbledore spoke. "Hagrid, you should head back and get some rest. Tonight has been long enough for everyone."
Hagrid nodded without argument. He said his goodbyes to the two boys and the headmaster, then led Fang toward his hut.
Whether it was the professor's presence or simple shock, Neville remained unusually quiet the entire way. He stayed silent until the third floor, where Dumbledore and Charlie watched him climb the stairs toward Gryffindor Tower.
Preoccupied as he was, Neville never noticed that the moment his foot touched the first step, the corridor behind him fell completely silent. No footsteps followed.
It was as if both of them had been waiting for him to leave.
Only after Neville's footsteps faded did Charlie speak.
A long, exhausted sigh filled the empty corridor.
He pulled a crumpled Moonlight Chocolate wrapper from his pocket. Thick silver-blue unicorn blood stained the paper.
The instant he had seen that wrapper, he understood why the young unicorn had been attacked.
Maybe it had never been Voldemort's intended prey at all. Maybe it had simply approached on its own, drawn by the pure moonlight scent that clung to the chocolate. It had gone to the figure in the black hood thinking it was Charlie—the same Charlie it had once met outside Hagrid's hut.
Charlie tucked the wrapper away and got to the point. "You told me not to worry. So how exactly are you planning to make Neville and Hagrid keep my secret?
Honestly, if you're just going to wipe their memories yourself, isn't that a little…"
Dumbledore watched him with open interest and supplied the word. "Overkill?"
"Yes."
"On the other hand," Dumbledore said, "handing a secret to Hagrid with no precautions whatsoever can create far more trouble than you might expect."
"Why do you say that?"
Charlie gave him a flat look and said nothing.
They both knew the answer. Refusing to answer was itself an answer.
Dumbledore smiled and returned to the matter at hand. "There is a small persuasive charm—or, from a Muggle perspective, a form of psychological suggestion. Once it is in place, the person will only ever mention the matter when speaking with you. Nothing more. What do you think?"
"That's better," Charlie admitted. "Straight memory deletion feels too harsh for two friends."
Dumbledore continued. "I'm curious why you insist on keeping this particular ability secret. Most people, when they discover something that sets them apart, are eager to show it off. That is the most honest instinct of a Gryffindor."
"Which is why I'm not a Gryffindor," Charlie replied evenly. "Small secrets have the right to stay small, don't they?"
"Oh?" Dumbledore's interest sharpened. "Am I to understand that you simply prefer not to stand out? That you would rather this unusual gift remain unknown, because the attention it would bring might create… unnecessary complications?"
"Bingo." Charlie snapped his fingers.
"Just like the way those centaurs reacted tonight. 'Child of the Moon'? I don't even know what that nonsense is supposed to mean."
"It might not be entirely bad," Dumbledore said. "They may treat you as an honored guest."
"Why would I want any connection to the centaurs in the first place?"
"Friends are rarely a disadvantage."
"Friends might come because of the ability," Charlie said. "Enemies will too."
"Ah. I see."
Charlie had nothing more to add. He turned to leave.
"One more thing," Dumbledore called after him, as if the thought had only just occurred. "Have you returned Mr. Potter's Invisibility Cloak yet?"
The corner of Charlie's mouth lifted. "I was wondering how long you'd manage to hold that question in."
"You knew that I knew?"
"Of course I knew. That's exactly why I wore the cloak into the Restricted Section. If you hadn't already known about it, I might have come to you for a note instead."
Dumbledore's interest deepened. He turned fully toward Charlie. "So you deliberately entered the Restricted Section only after confirming that I was aware?"
"That's right."
"If I hadn't known, you wouldn't have gone in at all."
"Mm-hmm."
Dumbledore studied the calm expression on Charlie's face. For a man who had lived more than a century, he found himself momentarily without a ready reply.
After a long pause he smiled. "I had rather hoped to startle you the way I once startled Mr. Potter when he was night-wandering under that same cloak. His expression was quite entertaining. I've been curious ever since what yours might look like under the same circumstances. It seems I still haven't had the chance."
"Right. You expected me to jump, look guilty, accept a gentle lecture, and promise never to do it again—happy ending for everyone."
Dumbledore sighed with quiet amusement. "Something like that. Clearly the plan has failed. But I'm still curious—why insist on entering only after I already knew?"
"Trust is hard to build, Professor. I didn't want to damage it. Did you?"
Dumbledore was silent for a moment, then nodded.
"Will you tell me what you were reading in the Restricted Section?"
"A bit of everything. Advanced alchemy, dark magic, higher-level charms…"
Charlie raised a hand in a lazy wave. "Good night, Professor. Time for bed."
"Good night, Charlie."
Dumbledore watched him go until the corridor was empty again. Only then did the old man let out a quiet breath and stand still, thinking.
He had come very close to using Legilimency.
The moment Charlie spoke about how difficult trust was to build, the impulse vanished.
Trust was a bridge. Charlie had openly admitted walking into the Restricted Section and, in doing so, had drawn a clear boundary. Across that bridge, information could be exchanged. But if someone crossed without invitation and stepped into private territory, the bridge could be closed without hesitation.
Dumbledore smiled to himself, almost soundlessly.
Had Tom been this measured at the same age?
No. The difference between the two boys was already enormous.
Charlie was exhausted. His mind felt like a withered plant desperately in need of deep rest. A Dream Chocolate might be the only way he would sleep properly tonight. He almost never used them.
He pushed open the dormitory door.
"Charlie!"
"Charlie, you're finally back!"
The intensity in Hector and Anthony's voices left him momentarily confused. "What's wrong? You must want to know—"
"Come look at Lely!" Fiona darted straight into his face, wings buzzing with panic.
He had misread them. The way they crowded around him wasn't eagerness.
It was urgency.
The moment he saw their faces, a sharp, needle-like sense of warning stabbed through his mind.
He stepped past them and went straight to his desk. The painting stood where it always did.
Lely was crying. The instant she saw him she started apologizing. "I'm sorry—I'm so sorry—"
Seeing she was unharmed, Charlie exhaled. "What happened?"
"I don't know." Lely shook her head.
That stopped him cold. Something bad had clearly happened, yet the person at the center of it had no idea what it was.
"The chocolate—someone took all the chocolate—" Lely sobbed. "When I woke up the little pouch at my waist was ruined. I'm sorry, Charlie. Your money and all the chocolate are gone."
"Did you see who did it?"
"I don't know." She kept shaking her head. "It was like my mind went completely blank. I didn't see anything—"
Charlie frowned, then nodded and lifted the frame carefully. "It's fine. As long as you're not hurt, nothing else matters. It's only a few Galleons." He gave her a small, easy smile.
His fingers brushed the surface of the painting twice, trying to wipe away the tears at the corner of her eyes even though he couldn't actually touch them. The gesture was enough. Lely gradually quieted.
He set the frame down and pulled the Invisibility Cloak from his belt. "I'm going back down."
"Want us to come?" Anthony asked at once.
"No." Charlie shook his head. "This isn't ordinary night-wandering. Even I need the cloak for this."
"Fair enough," Hector said. "Be careful."
Anthony added, "Maybe some older students. End-of-term sugar rush and no money left or something—"
Charlie didn't answer. He threw the cloak over himself and left the dorm at a fast walk.
He reached the second-floor corridor quickly. Scattered Galleons and a few Sunshine and Dream Chocolates littered the floor.
The Moonlight ones were completely gone.
The painting that held the chocolate shop was scorched in several places by spell marks. The little pouch that had once hung from Lely's hand no longer held any spatial magic. It was just a ruined painting now.
Charlie gathered the remaining chocolates, Galleons, and Sickles, then carefully lifted the damaged frame from the wall.
He pulled the cloak back just enough to free his head and looked at the portrait of the priest hanging beside Lely's.
"Father, do you know what happened?"
The priest shook his head. "I don't."
"Oh, it was a Confundus Charm, of course!" said the painting next to him.
Charlie moved closer at once. The speaker was a portrait of a duchess.
"I'm certain of it," she said firmly. "Night-wandering older students used to do this all the time—cast Confundus on themselves so no one could track their movements. It's advanced work. Only happens once every decade or so. Not many students can cast that freely."
She opened her fan with a flourish and half-hid her face, eyes gleaming with quiet pride. "But then, I've been hanging in Hogwarts for several centuries. The other portraits simply don't have my experience."
"Thanks. I'll bring you sweets sometime." Charlie nodded, pulled the cloak fully around himself again, and left at speed.
Back in the dorm he set the damaged painting on the desk.
"What did you find?" Anthony asked immediately.
Hector spoke up. "One more thing. I asked Lely while you were gone. Quirrell came by this afternoon and bought several more Moonlight Chocolates."
Charlie nodded and opened a drawer, pulling out a small pot and a portable burner.
"You're making chocolate now?"
"Not chocolate. Hard candy."
Hector stepped closer and lowered his voice. "What actually happened? Did Malfoy send some older students after you again?"
Charlie shook his head.
"No one is after me. But I think I'm about to go after someone else."
"It's Quirrell, isn't it?" Hector said suddenly.
Charlie turned and looked at him.
"Okay, that was a wild guess. But from the way you're acting… I was right."
Charlie turned back and lit the burner with a flick of his wand.
"You need to think carefully about what you're doing," Hector said. "Tampering with a professor can get you expelled."
"It won't."
Anthony had joined them. When he first heard Quirrell's name he had been ready to laugh it off. Then he saw that Charlie wasn't denying it. The whole situation suddenly felt far stranger. Charlie looked like a boy preparing to poison a teacher.
"Charlie," Anthony said quietly, "if you don't explain what's going on, we're not letting you do this."
Charlie smiled. "Fair enough."
He sat down. "Remember the first time we went up to the third-floor corridor with the three-headed dog?
There was something I never told you. I already knew the dog was there before Harry ever mentioned it."
Both boys leaned in, listening carefully as Charlie began to speak.
---
In Gryffindor Tower that same night, Harry's scar burned worse than usual. Sleep was impossible.
He wanted a Dream Chocolate. Without one he was certain he wouldn't rest at all.
But he had lost the Invisibility Cloak.
The dormitory door opened. Neville walked in looking completely lost.
Harry sat up at once, concern in his voice.