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What kind of advice was he supposed to give? Anthony and Hector were suddenly acting like they were forming an underground secret society.
He had genuinely never considered anything like that.
Looking out the window at the torrential rain, he offered a tentative suggestion. "The Thunderstorm Society?"
"You're not right in the head, either of you," they both said, shooting him identical, deadpan glares.
Charlie simply shrugged helplessly. He genuinely didn't have any brilliant ideas.
Still, he wasn't about to crush his friends' enthusiasm.
"What about something like the Three Brothers from the Deathly Hallows?" he offered.
Hector looked at Charlie, completely lost. "What's that?"
Anthony quickly filled him in, recounting the famous wizarding fairy tale.
"Right, I get the concept," Hector nodded, before immediately vetoing Charlie's idea. "But no, bloody hell, we absolutely cannot just steal a name that already exists."
"What about... Moonlight?" Anthony's eyes suddenly lit up.
"Moonlight?" Hector looked out the window. The sky outside was completely pitch black, and the heavy rain was still loudly hammering against the glass.
Hearing Anthony's suggestion, Charlie actually nodded. For a small, tightly-knit group of wizards, a name tied to the moon felt remarkably fitting.
"The Moonlight Society? I actually like that," Charlie said.
"Exactly," Anthony nodded emphatically. "From now on, our dorm is officially 'Moonlight'."
The decision only fueled Anthony and Hector's excitement further.
"We definitely need codenames. I'm going to be..."
Every legendary rogue needed an alias. Sure, they hadn't actually done any rogueish wandering yet, but what young boy hadn't fantasized about giving himself a wildly dramatic moniker?
As he spoke, Anthony flicked his hair back and sharply straightened his robes.
Hmm...
"Please do not tell me you're going to call yourself 'Prince' or something," Charlie drawled, leaning lazily back in his chair.
A violently embarrassed flush instantly crept onto Anthony's face. "What? Of course not! Do you think I'm that utterly tacky?"
"I nailed it, didn't I?" Charlie grinned, looking at Anthony with deep amusement. He quickly clarified, "I didn't just pull that out of thin air, mate. I actually know someone who gave himself the alias 'Prince'..."
"Well, whoever they are, they're incredibly tacky," Anthony muttered stubbornly, absolutely refusing to admit that 'Prince' was exactly the word that had been floating in his head.
"I was actually thinking..."
The entire dorm fell dead silent. Three seconds later, Anthony completely deflated. "Alright, fine. Damn it. You're right, Charlie. But honestly, what else sounds good?
"I was scrambling to think of something new just now, and I almost went with 'The Aristocrat'. But that just sounds... obnoxiously arrogant and stiff."
"What about 'The Gentleman'?" Hector suggested. He then added, "If it were up to me, I'd go with 'The Chessmaster'."
"That's a brilliant choice," Anthony's eyes lit up again. "Right then, I'm 'The Gentleman'."
The two of them immediately turned to look at Charlie.
"Me?" Charlie thought for a fraction of a second. "I suppose I'll be 'The Confectioner'."
"Isn't that a bit... literal?"
"I think it's perfectly fine," Charlie smiled.
There was absolutely no way he was going to admit he was simply too lazy to think of anything better.
With their aliases officially locked in, Anthony and Hector eagerly pivoted to planning the society's headquarters.
A secret organization required a highly secure, exclusive base of operations. Without a doubt, the Room of Requirement was their only logical choice.
Charlie simply pulled out his parchment and started working on his assignments. Half an hour later, he had finished his first essay.
Anthony and Hector were still passionately arguing over the logistics.
They had firmly decided to head to the Room of Requirement tomorrow to actively construct their personalized headquarters.
They had no idea what the upper limits of the Room's customization actually were, but they were absolutely determined to test them.
Over the course of the following week—a full five days of classes—Anthony and Hector completely monopolized the Room of Requirement.
Every single spare second they had, they bolted up to the eighth floor.
They meticulously scoured the massive mountains of junk in the Room of Hidden Things, hunting for usable furniture and decor. They relentlessly experimented with highly specific verbal requests and unique spatial layouts, desperately trying to force the Room to generate a permanent, standalone sanctuary strictly bound to their specifications.
There were a massive amount of incredibly complex magical variables involved in forcing the Room to retain a specific state. When Charlie had briefly explored the concept earlier in the year, he had immediately recognized it as a massive, agonizingly tedious undertaking.
Which was exactly why he had never bothered trying. For his purposes, as long as the room provided a workable space, he was perfectly content.
After all, it wasn't as if he was practicing Unforgivable Curses. Even if someone accidentally stumbled into his practice room, it wouldn't be a disaster.
But when Anthony and Hector decided to form a secret society, a truly hidden, exclusive room became an absolute necessity for them.
Consequently, Charlie was forced to relocate his practice sessions to an abandoned classroom on the seventh floor to finally master the Fire-Making Spell.
The brilliant news, however, was that he succeeded.
He had now officially mastered every single spell in the first-year curriculum.
His next target was incredibly clear.
The Undetectable Extension Charm!
It was an unapologetically advanced, highly complex spell, but Charlie felt brimming with confidence.
By Friday, the weather had grown bitterly cold, and the sun was setting incredibly early, forcing the school to officially suspend flying lessons. The classes wouldn't resume until the weather broke in the spring.
That afternoon, Charlie sat in the Hogwarts library on the fifth floor.
He was currently flipping through a copy of The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 7.
Since he was still stubbornly hoarding the library's copy of My Alchemical Era in his dorm, he was forced to actually sit in the library to read anything else he didn't personally own.
> The Undetectable Extension Charm is an inherently dangerous piece of magic. Categorically, it straddles the line between Charms and Transfiguration, qualifying as a highly advanced form of Spatial Transfiguration.
> Because the charm is so incredibly utilitarian, wizards frequently, and foolishly, overlook its severe complexity and inherent dangers.
> A poorly executed Undetectable Extension Charm carries an entirely unpredictable risk of catastrophic spatial collapse. Consequently, for practical, real-world application, the Ministry of Magic strictly mandates that the charm MUST be cast in tandem with a Spatial Stabilization Charm and anchored by solidifying runic arrays.
> Furthermore, to ensure the physical safety of the magical populace, the International Confederation of Wizards explicitly outlaws the private use of the Undetectable Extension Charm to create expanded spaces capable of housing a human wizard.
Charlie shifted his gaze. To the right of the text was a detailed illustration.
It depicted a standard cloth sack stamped with a prominent logo: an 'E' intertwined with a wand.
The caption beneath it read:
> In 1954, Blitz Enoson invented an alchemical tool capable of anchoring and stabilizing a simplified Undetectable Extension Charm.
> He immediately patented the device and founded the Enoson Packaging Company the following year.
> Today, nearly every single simplified Extension container utilized by retail shops across Europe is manufactured and supplied by Enoson.
A simplified Extension container...
Charlie's mind instantly flashed back to his shopping trip in Diagon Alley. No matter how many items he had purchased, the shopkeepers had always managed to effortlessly stuff them into a single, remarkably small paper or cloth bag.
The localized Extension Charm on those retail bags generally lasted for about two days. Once the magic faded, the bag simply slowly deflated like a punctured balloon.
Yes, unlike the catastrophic spatial collapse warned about in the textbook, when the magic on those retail bags failed, the expanded space simply contracted, gently 'squeezing' the stored items back out into the real world.
So those mass-produced retail bags are all Enoson products?
It genuinely felt exactly like discovering the magical equivalent of a massive plastic bag manufacturing monopoly.
Turning the page, Charlie continued reading the incredibly dense theory behind the charm.
For an advanced spell of this magnitude, the introductory theory alone spanned several pages.
Even though mastering this charm was his primary goal, Charlie wasn't going to rush it. He read every single word meticulously.
If he acted recklessly—skipping the foundational theory and warnings just to blindly memorize the wand movement and incantation—he was guaranteed to fail.
Ignoring the preliminary warnings wouldn't just result in wasted time and effort; if he triggered a spatial collapse, the physical consequences could be lethal. The risk simply wasn't worth it.
As he read, he carefully transcribed the core concepts and warnings into his notebook.
By the time he finally packed up and left the library, it was already pushing 4:00 PM.
Heading downstairs, he glanced out a window overlooking the grounds. A tall, imposing figure was standing out on the grass. The man had lank, greasy hair and a deeply sinister, piercing gaze.
Standing directly opposite him, looking noticeably intimidated, were three highly familiar first-years.
"What is that you've got there, Potter?"