Faced with such a scene, the students not entangled by the vines were very surprised.
Ernie's eyes widened, his voice trembling:
"Charlie, I've never seen this move before!"
"This is large-scale Transfiguration."
Justin's jaw nearly dropped to the floor.
Transfiguration?
He had always been indifferent to Transfiguration, feeling that it was not as direct as a Spell.
What was the point of spending all day learning to turn a stick into a needle?
Professor McGonagall always emphasized the importance of basic Transfiguration, but he felt those things were too impractical.
And now you're telling me such an amazing move is Transfiguration?
The senior students from Gryffindor and Slytherin, who hadn't participated in the brawl, were also stunned by this sight.
Victor Mars, a seventh-year Gryffindor student, clicked his tongue in wonder.
"This kind of large-scale Transfiguration..."
"If an adult Wizard performed it, I wouldn't be surprised," his companion chimed in.
"But Charlie is only a first-year!"
"A first-year can achieve this level?"
"How long has he been studying magic?"
"Born into an ordinary Wizarding family, he shouldn't have been exposed to formal magic education before he was eleven."
"Is he a pureblood then?"
"Come on, you're also a pureblood, can you use that move now?"
Whispers spread among the older students.
Percy, as a Prefect, felt his scalp tingle.
He had initially tried to persuade everyone to stop, but the students from both houses completely ignored him.
When Spells were flying everywhere, he was almost hit.
Now that the Great Hall was in such a mess, could he, a Prefect, still continue his duties?
Fine beads of sweat broke out on Percy's forehead.
Malfoy, hanging upside down in the air by the vines, was pale, his nose still dripping blood.
He struggled to twist his body, trying to break free, but the vines tightened further.
"Let me go!" Malfoy's voice sounded strange due to being upside down.
"Charlie, I didn't provoke you, why are you doing this to me!"
Charlie ignored him, focusing on the food on his plate.
Hermione, meanwhile, was observing the structure of the vines.
"Charlie actually performed complex Transfiguration on dozens of objects simultaneously, and could precisely control the strength of each vine..."
"How strong is his magic, exactly?"
Ron tried to struggle a few times: "These vines are so amazing."
Neville looked at Charlie with admiration, Malfoy's nosebleed still on his fists.
At this moment, he felt a rush of blood to his head, his body trembling uncontrollably.
This was a feeling of excitement he had never experienced before, and it was all because of Charlie's words: "The tougher you are, the less others dare to bully you."
Just then, the doors of the Great Hall were pushed open.
Professor McGonagall paused after entering, then she closed the door and opened it again.
Finding the scene exactly the same as before, she completely gave up hope.
Gryffindor and Slytherin students were entangled by various strangely shaped vines.
Around the Hufflepuff long table, everyone was gathered around Charlie.
The situation was very clear.
"Charlie!"
"Are you trying to tear the school down?!"
Professor McGonagall let out a sharp shriek... In the Deputy Principal's office.
The main participants of this incident stood before the desk.
Professor McGonagall listened to the whole story, the anger on her face gradually dissipating.
She placed her quill heavily on the desk, a few drops of ink splattering.
"Gryffindor loses one hundred points."
"Slytherin loses one hundred points."
Her voice was icy cold.
Harry and Malfoy's eyes widened simultaneously, their mouths open wide enough to fit a Golden Snitch.
One hundred points! Professor Snape will kill me, Malfoy was on the verge of tears.
One hundred points! We just lost ninety points, Harry's eyes were blank.
Professor McGonagall turned to Charlie, her gaze complex.
"Couldn't you have found a gentler way to stop them from fighting?"
Charlie lowered his head.
"I'm sorry, Professor. I was too impulsive at the time."
His attitude was so sincere that no fault could be found.
Professor McGonagall's anger subsided a bit more.
It's best not to reason with teachers, elders, or women; it's futile, and Professor McGonagall was all three.
So Charlie immediately apologized and admitted his mistake, with a good attitude.
This was also why Charlie often got into trouble, but the Professors generally had a good impression of him.
Oh, except for Snape; he thought Charlie was a pure troublemaker.
"Given that the Great Hall is a mess and the Professors will have to eat dinner in their offices, but because your intentions were good, no points will be deducted. You will have one month of detention."
Detention was nothing; Charlie was already used to it. He'd cough if he didn't get a few days a week.
"Next time you encounter such a situation, find a Professor to handle it first," her tone softened.
"However, your Transfiguration... was indeed impressive."
Professor McGonagall secretly marveled.
She herself had only barely managed that kind of large-scale precise control in her fifth year.
If the Great Hall hadn't been made such a mess, she would have wanted to give Charlie a hundred points.
"I understand, Professor."
Charlie nodded obediently.
"You may go."
Charlie turned and left.
The door closed softly behind him.
Leaving the despairing Gryffindor and Slytherin students to face the lioness's wrath.
Professor McGonagall looked at the closed door, shaking her head involuntarily.
It was a good thing Charlie wasn't a Gryffindor student.
Otherwise, those house points wouldn't be enough for him to lose... Deep in the Forbidden Forest, withered branches and fallen leaves covered the ground.
Moonlight filtered through the gaps in the leaves, casting mottled shadows on the ground.
The night wind carried the damp smell of earth, occasionally accompanied by the distant hoot of an Owl.
Snape stood beneath a thick oak tree.
His black robes swayed slightly in the night wind.
His face was hidden in shadow, only his deep black eyes glimmering with a cold light under the moonlight.
"Come out."
His voice was low.
A rustling sound came from behind the trees.
Quirrell slowly emerged, his purple turban particularly conspicuous in the night.
His hands constantly rubbed together in front of him, clearly very nervous.
"Severus..." Quirrell's voice carried his habitual tremor.
"You're here."
Snape took a step forward.
The moonlight illuminated his sallow face and prominent hooked nose.
"Has the Cerberus problem been resolved?"
His tone was so cold it sent shivers down one's spine.
Quirrell shrank his neck.
"Not... not yet. That beast is too fierce, I... I'm trying to figure out a way."
"A fool stupid enough to be a Troll!"
Snape interrupted him.
"Since you've decided to pledge allegiance to the Dark Lord, you should do your utmost. If you can't even solve this small difficulty, do you still deserve to be a Death Eater?"
Quirrell's body trembled.
Snape was the Dark Lord's old subordinate; how could he, a newcomer, dare to argue with him?
He forced a fawning smile.
"I'll do my best, Severus."
"You'd better."
Snape snorted coldly, turning to leave.
"Wait!" Quirrell suddenly called out to him.
"The Master said... said for you to cooperate with my actions."
Snape's footsteps halted.
"I know what I'm doing."
He threw out this sentence, flicked his black robe, and disappeared into the night.
Quirrell stood alone, his purple turban trembling in the night wind.
He raised a trembling hand and gently stroked the back of his head. A piercing pain shot through it.
"Master... Snape, he..."
"Quiet, Quirrell."
A chilling voice echoed from deep within his mind.
"Snape's loyalty is beyond doubt. But his arrogance... needs time to be corrected."
Quirrell nodded quickly.
"Yes, Master."
"Focus on your task. The Philosopher's Stone must be acquired."
"I understand, Master."
On the way out of the Forbidden Forest, Snape's face was grim.
The night wind ruffled his black hair, but could not conceal the complex emotions in his eyes.
At the beginning of this semester, Quirrell had approached him, saying that Lord Voldemort needed his help.
He had to show loyalty in front of Lord Voldemort; this was a plan he and Dumbledore had long discussed.
So he had to obey the Dark Lord's demands and outwardly help Quirrell find the Philosopher's Stone.
But at the same time, he also had to inform Dumbledore about the Dark Lord possessing Quirrell.
To make Dumbledore prepared, and absolutely prevent the Dark Lord from getting the Philosopher's Stone.
Fortunately, the Dark Lord was still very weak now.
So weak that he didn't even have the strength to appear directly before him.
Snape quickened his pace.
The outline of the Castle was faintly visible in the night.
His black robes flapped in the night wind, like a giant bat sweeping across the night sky.
-------------------------------
I've already uploaded 40 chapters of this story on Patreon!
If you enjoy it, come check out the latest chapters in advance.
Here's the link:
[patreon.com/Greyhounds]
Thank you so much for your support!!
"And If you're enjoying it, drop a Power Stone for me!"