Over the next few days, whenever Charlie wasn't in class, he was in the Forbidden Forest, transmuting stones into gold, he'd nearly stripped that section of the forest bare.
High in a Hogwarts tower, Dumbledore watched the scene unfold through a crystal ball, equal parts amused and exasperated.
This young wizard's dedication was admirable… if only it weren't so misdirected.
Every morning, without fail, Charlie arrived beneath that marked oak tree.
And every evening, he returned, arms full.
The Philosopher's Stone, once gleaming crimson like a gem, now looked noticeably dull.
Dumbledore shook his head.
"How much gold does this child need to be satisfied?"
"Perhaps it's time to intervene."
"If this continues, he may never be able to stop."
The old headmaster stroked his silver beard, a complex gleam flashing in his blue eyes.
Just as Dumbledore was about to step in, Charlie beat him to it, he climbed the stairs to the eighth floor of the castle.
His footsteps echoed softly off the stone.
He stopped in front of the gargoyle guarding the Headmaster's office.
The grotesque statue stood motionless, eyes closed tight.
Charlie gave a tentative knock.
The gargoyle opened its eyes and leapt aside. The stone wall behind it split open, revealing a spiral staircase.
Charlie ascended.
The round office hummed faintly with magical energy.
Strange silver instruments buzzed and hissed on the tables, giving off little puffs of smoke.
Portraits lined the walls, some dozing, others peeking curiously at the uninvited guest.
On a shelf behind the desk rested the ragged Sorting Hat, tilted lazily to one side.
Dumbledore sat behind his desk, reading a parchment.
Seeing Charlie enter, he set it down and offered a warm smile.
"Mr. White, please, have a seat."
With a flick of his wand, a chair glided over to Charlie.
"Would you like a sweet?"
Before Charlie could answer, a tray of candies materialized on the desk, soft gummies in all colors, wafting a sugary aroma.
Charlie sat down, mentally organizing his opening line.
"Professor, there's something I need to tell you."
"Oh?" Dumbledore smiled as though he knew nothing, eyes twinkling with curiosity. "What could possibly bring our star student all the way up here?"
Charlie reached into his robes and carefully took out the smooth, red stone, placing it on the desk.
Under the candlelight, the Philosopher's Stone shimmered faintly, clearly dimmer than it had been days ago.
Dumbledore winced a little inside. After days of nonstop extraction, even the mightiest artifact would be exhausted.
Sorry, Nicolas Flamel. I didn't take good care of your Stone… let this blond brat wear it out.
"I found this lying around the castle," Charlie said with the utmost sincerity.
"Not sure who it belongs to."
As he spoke, he casually picked up a lemon drop and popped it into his mouth.
A saccharine explosion hit his tongue, making his brow twitch.
It was so sweet it hurt his teeth. He wanted to spit it out, but didn't want to offend Dumbledore.
He quietly nudged the candy tray farther away.
Dumbledore eyed the Stone, a playful glint flickering behind his half-moon glasses.
"You found it, did you?"
His tone was light, but Charlie instantly caught the underlying meaning.
Charlie's heart tensed.
So the Headmaster knew the Stone had been taken.
But why hadn't he reacted until now?
More importantly… would he demand all the gold back?
Would that make me the clown of the century?
Charlie kept his poker face, chewing that lethal lemon drop with feigned calm.
"Of course," he said innocently. "Found it right there in the fourth-floor corridor. No idea who dropped it."
"But I know the rules. Finders should return things, so I came straight to you."
Dumbledore gave him a long, beaming look, seemingly pleased.
The boy voluntarily handing over the Philosopher's Stone proved he hadn't been consumed by greed.
Even if he'd already conjured enough gold to buy half the Ministry of Magic.
"Thank you, Charlie. This belongs to me."
Dumbledore reached out for the Stone.
But Charlie suddenly snatched it back.
Dumbledore's hand stopped midair.
"Something wrong?"
Charlie gave him a strange look, the corner of his mouth curling slightly.
"Professor, I went out of my way to return such an important item…"
He stopped, his voice playful.
"You're not just going to let me leave empty-handed, are you?"
His gaze practically said: if you don't give me a reward, you're just a stingy old man.
Dumbledore was stunned.
Who said this brat wasn't greedy?
Mammon, the god of greed, probably had this kid tattooed on his back.
The old headmaster began to regret his decision to just observe.
Wouldn't it have been simpler to just retrieve the Stone earlier?
Now this little rascal was blatantly blackmailing him, and he still had to pretend he knew nothing.
A hint of resignation flickered in Dumbledore's blue eyes.
He'd already thanked Charlie. Taking it back now would make him look petty.
"Well then, Mr. White," he said slowly, "what kind of reward were you hoping for?"
Charlie grinned.
"Professor, is there a way to carry a large amount of storage space with you?"
Dumbledore instantly understood.
So the boy wanted to carry all that gold with him after all.
"There is," he nodded. "The Undetectable Extension Charm can be used to expand enclosed spaces. With it, a normal trunk can hold an enormous amount."
Charlie's eyes lit up, then quickly dimmed with caution.
Nothing in this world came free. And Dumbledore, crafty old fox that he was, definitely wouldn't hand it over for nothing.
"But to receive my help," Dumbledore continued, "you must agree to one condition."
Charlie didn't immediately accept.
Instead, he asked, "What kind of condition, Professor?"
Dumbledore clasped his hands and grew serious.
"If you're ever in a position to help Harry, and you're able to do so safely, I'd like you to step in."
Charlie blinked.
That… wasn't what he expected.
He thought Dumbledore would lecture him about studying harder, or forbid him from transmuting more gold.
But help Harry?
"Harry's my friend," Charlie said. "For my friends, I'm happy to help."
Dumbledore nodded with satisfaction.
"Enchanting items with the Extension Charm is technically illegal. I'll need to get approval from the Ministry. That may take a few days."
"No problem," Charlie replied.
The gold's not going anywhere. It's safely buried.
And if Dumbledore gave his word, he'd follow through.
With the deal settled, Charlie stood to leave.
As he reached the door, he turned back.
"Professor, those candies are way too sweet. Eating that much sugar isn't good for your health."
Dumbledore blinked, then burst out laughing.
"Don't take away an old man's last vice."
Charlie shrugged and pushed open the door.
His footsteps echoed lightly on the stairs as he descended, in a good mood.
The Philosopher's Stone had been returned, and he'd scored some perks in the process.
Once he got that magically expanded trunk, transporting gold would be so much easier.
Back in the office, Dumbledore gazed thoughtfully at the door Charlie had exited through.
Part of his reason for agreeing to the boy's request was indeed the hope that Charlie would protect Harry in the future.
Charlie's strength already far surpassed that of his peers, he was on par with most graduates.
Having someone like him around would be a huge advantage for Harry when danger arose.
But the other reason… was that Dumbledore simply saw potential in the boy.
Yes, he was a little greedy. Lazy. Disliked studying. Had a sharp tongue. Loved to tease people.
But the fact that he had returned the Philosopher's Stone proved his inner strength.
To resist the temptation of a legendary treasure, to walk away from endless wealth and immortality, that took formidable willpower.
And Charlie was only eleven.
"Fascinating little fellow," Dumbledore murmured, lifting the dull, red stone from his desk.
He could feel the fatigue in its dimmed magic.
Days of constant use had drained this legendary artifact.
But after a bit of rest, it would recover.
No harm done.
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