Time went back to Charlie standing in front of the Mirror of Erised.
He wanted to find the Philosopher's Stone in his heart, but his reason told him that with his current strength, he absolutely couldn't guard such a treasure.
He still understood the principle that possessing a treasure makes one a target.
Not to mention distant events, the recent Troll incident proved that someone was eyeing the Philosopher's Stone.
Charlie only wanted to find the Philosopher's Stone to see if he could earn some tyrant points, and then actively hand it over to Dumbledore after he was done.
This way, he could both receive system rewards and avoid trouble.
However, while looking in the mirror, he coincidentally met the condition of wanting the Philosopher's Stone but not wanting to use it.
Just like that, the Philosopher's Stone appeared in his pocket.
Charlie felt the weight in his pocket, and his heart instantly sped up.
He reached out and touched it; the warm, jade-like sensation confirmed that it wasn't an illusion.
But he didn't understand the principle behind it.
On the surface, Charlie remained calm.
It wasn't that he wanted to keep it for himself, but that the more people knew, the more dangerous it would be.
With the two big mouths, Ron and Harry, the whole school would know about this by tomorrow.
"[Detected that Your Majesty has stolen the legendary treasure, the Philosopher's Stone. tyrant points +100]"
The system's prompt sounded in his mind, and Charlie suppressed the wild joy in his heart.
100 tyrant points! This was the largest single income he had received so far.
In the corner of the room, the invisible Dumbledore frowned.
What should he do?
For a Young Wizard, obtaining such a priceless treasure was a very dangerous thing.
Not only were there external dangers, but also the temptation of his own greed.
If he succumbed to greed, with Charlie's talent, it was hard to say whether he would become the next Dark Lord.
However, the Philosopher's Stone was already in Charlie's hands, and the fuse of the bomb called greed had been lit.
Dumbledore could only observe the boy more closely at this moment.
"Strange, where's the Philosopher's Stone?" Harry looked at the mirror in confusion.
"Could it be that there's no Philosopher's Stone at all?" Ron scratched his head.
Hermione meticulously inspected every inch of the mirror, trying to find some mechanism.
"Impossible, those protective measures wouldn't be for show."
The group searched the entire room, checking every flagstone on the floor, but still found no trace of the Philosopher's Stone.
"Looks like we came all this way for nothing," Fred shrugged.
"At least it was exciting," George consoled.
Charlie listened silently from the side, but in his heart, he was calculating his next plan.
The Philosopher's Stone was already in hand; now the most important thing was a safe retreat.
"Since we haven't found anything, we should head back quickly," Charlie suggested.
"If we're any later, we won't be able to get up for class tomorrow."
Hermione gave Charlie a surprised look. Why did that sound so out of place coming from him?
The group exchanged glances and decided to return the way they came.
When they returned to Cerberus's room, the Cerberus was still fast asleep, snoring loudly.
The Twins still had their own plans.
"We're still going to the kitchen to see if we can get some late-night snacks," Fred winked.
"Want to come along?" George invited.
Charlie shook his head.
With the Philosopher's Stone on his mind, he only wanted to return to the dormitory to thoroughly study this legendary treasure.
"Never mind, I'm a bit tired. I'll go back and rest first."
Harry, Ron, and Hermione, thinking about class tomorrow, also decided to return to the dormitory.
"Then let's split up," Fred waved.
"See you tomorrow."
The group dispersed.
The three, Harry, Ron, and Hermione, carefully walked out of the fourth floor.
The corridor was quiet, with only the faint echo of their footsteps on the flagstones.
Harry walked in front, and the three of them quietly discussed what had happened that night.
"Could it be that there really is no Philosopher's Stone?"
"Impossible, Hagrid's reaction at the time proved there must be a Philosopher's Stone."
"It's just that we couldn't find how to open the final mechanism."
Hermione lowered her head in thought.
Just then, familiar footsteps approached from ahead.
Thump, thump, thump.
Heavy and rhythmic.
"Filch!" Hermione gasped.
Harry was calm; he had encountered such situations many times during the summer, so he spoke to reassure them.
"Don't worry, Filch won't find us, we have the Invisibility Cloak..."
But the next second, his face instantly turned pale.
Where's my cloak?
He frantically patted his body, but there was nothing.
Oh no!
He had left the cloak in the Chamber of Secrets and forgotten to take it!
Filch's footsteps grew closer and closer.
Harry's face was ashen, and the three of them instantly panicked.
There was nowhere to hide in the corridor, and Filch saw the three of them, excitedly running over.
"We're doomed, doomed, doomed," Ron's lips were white.
"That old bastard looks like a Vampire."
Hermione closed her eyes, quickly searching her mind for any possible spells.
But she didn't dare to attack an adult Wizard (she thought Filch was a Wizard).
"Who's there?" Filch's hoarse voice rang out.
The three were caught red-handed.
Filch approached, holding his lantern, his cloudy eyes glinting menacingly in the dim light.
Madam Norris followed behind him, her tail held high.
"Three little rascals," Filch grinned, revealing his yellowed teeth.
"Sneaking around in the corridor in the middle of the night instead of sleeping."
Harry opened his mouth, wanting to explain something, but Filch didn't give him a chance.
"Come with me, to your Dean."
In Professor McGonagall's office, the fire in the fireplace was blazing.
She wore a plaid dressing gown, her hair wrapped in a hairnet, clearly having been woken up in an emergency.
"Explain yourself, Mr. Potter." Professor McGonagall's voice was cold enough to freeze, her eyes almost spitting fire.
"Why were the three of you on the fourth-floor corridor at midnight?"
Harry hung his head, not daring to look Professor McGonagall in the eye.
"We... we just wanted to..."
"Wanted what?" Professor McGonagall's tone suddenly sharpened.
"Wanted to go on an adventure? Wanted to explore areas that are explicitly forbidden?"
"I thought you valued Gryffindor's honor."
Hermione finally couldn't hold back, tears welling up in her eyes.
She had never been scolded like this by a teacher, let alone by her most respected Professor McGonagall.
"I'm sorry, Professor," her voice trembled.
"Miss Granger." Professor McGonagall cut her off.
"I'm very disappointed in you. As an excellent student, you should set an example, not lead in breaking school rules."
These words hit Hermione's most vulnerable spot.
She bit her lower lip, and tears streamed down her face.
"Gryffindor, ninety points deducted." Professor McGonagall huffed.
"Thirty points each."
The three's faces instantly turned pale.
This meant that Gryffindor was practically out of the running for the House Cup.
"Furthermore, the three of you will serve detention."
When they returned to the Gryffindor common room, almost everyone was already asleep.
The three silently climbed the stairs, no one speaking.
Hermione sobbed as she slipped into her dormitory, the sound of the door closing particularly heavy.
Harry and Ron also returned to their respective rooms, their hearts as heavy as if a giant stone had been placed upon them... At this moment, Charlie had not returned to the dormitory.
Deep in the Forbidden Forest, moonlight filtered through the leaves, casting dappled shadows.
Charlie found a sufficiently secluded spot and pulled out the warm, red stone.
The Philosopher's Stone.
The legendary treasure lay quietly in his palm.
The blood-red stone was about the size of an egg, and it felt warm to the touch.
Charlie took a deep breath.
He was excited, very thrilled, but there was no greed; for someone with a system, the Philosopher's Stone was merely icing on the cake.
For Charlie, the most practical function of the Philosopher's Stone was to turn base metals into gold, to enrich his personal coffers.
Charlie picked up a few ordinary stones from the ground, brought the Philosopher's Stone close to one of them, and mentally activated the magic contained within the Philosopher's Stone.
The stone instantly transformed.
Its grayish-black surface began to glow golden, its texture became heavy, and a few seconds later, a solid gold appeared in Charlie's hand.
"It really works."
Charlie's heart raced as he continued to touch other stones with the Philosopher's Stone.
Soon, a small pile of gold nuggets accumulated on the ground, glittering in the moonlight.
The dazzling golden light was mesmerizing.
Charlie squatted beside the pile of gold, reaching out to touch the gold.
The cold touch told him that all of it was real.
He had never seen so much gold before, and now it was all his.
Clearly, he couldn't take all this gold with him, and it was too conspicuous.
Charlie looked around, found a sturdy oak tree as a marker, dug a pit near its roots, and buried all the gold nuggets.
After covering the soil, Charlie made a few more marks nearby to ensure he could accurately find the location next time.
"I need to find a way to carry it with me," Charlie thought.
"There should be something like storage rings in the Wizarding World, right?"
In the shadows of the trees not far away, Dumbledore remained invisible, quietly observing everything.
It was normal for an eleven-year-old child to be excited when faced with immense wealth.
Dumbledore didn't mind Charlie creating gold, but he worried whether this wealth would corrupt Charlie's heart.
So far, it seemed fine.
Charlie's behavior showed no signs of madness or obsession.
At least it was much better than Tom Riddle's back then.
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