Behind the gargoyle's door was a spiral staircase that twisted upward.
Charlie stepped onto the steps, and the staircase automatically rotated, slowly carrying him up.
A spinning escalator?
What runes powered this automatic upward spin?
As always, he curiously dissected the alchemical principles at work in the staircase.
It moved quickly, and before he could puzzle it out, he reached the top.
Before him was an arched doorway. Stepping through, he entered a circular room.
To the left, another spiral staircase wound upward. Maybe that's the living quarters? Charlie thought.
He glanced right, spotting a window. He remembered soaring high during his flying lesson and catching a glimpse of Dumbledore through this very pane.
Cabinets held an old, battered Sorting Hat, Gryffindor's silver sword, and plenty of items he didn't recognize.
The desk was broad and solid, cluttered with tiny silver instruments puffing out smoke, plus a fancy tea set.
On the wall near the entrance, Charlie turned back to see a row of portraits of former headmasters.
Many were snoring away, but a couple eyed him with interest. None spoke a word.
Dumbledore wasn't here.
Charlie wandered curiously. On the side of the desk, a massive nest appeared, topped with a gilded perch. A stunning, fiery red bird stood atop it.
"You're gorgeous," Charlie said.
The phoenix craned its elegant neck, glancing at him but offering no response.
He turned to the former headmasters' portraits.
So, should I just leave the letter on the desk and head out?
Or stick around and wait for Dumbledore to show?
Charlie opted for the latter.
That way, he could sneak a longer peek at all the weird, fascinating stuff in the headmaster's office.
Of course, he wouldn't touch anything—that'd be rude.
"Hey there," he waved at the portraits.
"I hate rude folks," grumbled one particularly grumpy-looking headmaster.
Charlie checked the gold plaque below: Phineas Nigellus Black.
"Really?" Charlie replied, a bit surprised. "I thought I was being pretty polite."
He chuckled inwardly. Probably because I didn't show enough respect to this old headmaster?
Bet he was the strict, pompous type back in his day.
"Mr. Wonka?" A mildly surprised voice sounded behind him.
Turning, he saw the white-bearded Dumbledore standing behind the desk, appearing out of nowhere.
"Afternoon, Professor Dumbledore," Charlie greeted promptly.
"Afternoon. Quite the surprise—who sent you here? Minerva?"
"Oh, no." Charlie shook his head. He pulled the envelope from his pocket.
"Then how'd you guess the password?"
"Just a random candy name. Folks say you have a sweet tooth, Professor."
Dumbledore looked genuinely astonished but nodded. "Fair enough. So, what's the purpose of your visit?"
Charlie placed the envelope on the desk and slid it toward Dumbledore. "It's from Potter. He wrote you a letter and wanted it delivered.
I didn't know how to find you, but I took the job anyway."
"Alright, I'll take a look." Dumbledore nodded, glancing at the letter before asking, "How's life at Hogwarts treating you?"
"Absolutely fantastic." Charlie nodded, flipping his hand to reveal a Sun-Moon Fusion chocolate. "I've got a new product—give it a try, Professor."
Dumbledore's interest in the chocolate clearly outshone the letter. He took it from Charlie, unwrapped the foil, and slowly savored it.
He was a true connoisseur, tasting every nuance.
A moment later, he opened his eyes and nodded approvingly. "Outstanding. Can't wait for the day it's mass-produced."
Tap-tap-tap—
Footsteps echoed behind Charlie as a shadowy figure strode in.
Glancing back, it was Snape, his face a thundercloud.
"Professor, I'll head out then," Charlie said with a smile.
"Go on—enjoy your weekend," Dumbledore replied with a nod.
As he left, Charlie locked eyes with Snape. The man's gaze held confusion and bafflement, wondering why Charlie was here.
Once Charlie was gone, Dumbledore settled into his chair and unhurriedly opened the letter.
Meanwhile, Snape spoke gravely: "Dumbledore, someone's trying to harm Harry."
Dumbledore nodded. "I'm aware."
He scanned the letter, where Harry dissected how he'd discovered the three-headed dog in the fourth-floor corridor and linked the dungeon troll to Snape's actions.
Dumbledore smiled, finding it amusing, while pondering whether to dock points from Harry Potter.
"Dumbledore." Snape slammed the desk. "Are you even listening?"
"Oh, of course." Dumbledore folded the letter. "Someone cursed his broom, right?"
"Yes—and that bastard hit me with a mind-warping dark curse!"
"Sounds serious." Dumbledore's smile faded, adopting a thoughtful look.
"You get it now? Probably the same guy who caused the Halloween chaos."
"Yes, you're right."
Snape stared at Dumbledore in silence.
Dumbledore stayed quiet too.
"You're right?" Snape echoed irritably. "And? The Halloween fiasco just blows over? You haven't found any leads?"
Hearing the direct question, Dumbledore shook his head apologetically: "Sorry, Severus—no clues yet."
Snape took a deep breath.
"Fine." He turned away, done talking. At the doorway, he paused, half-turning his head. "I don't care what the school's guarding like a vault—I just hope it doesn't drag him into it."
Dumbledore didn't respond, just unfolded the letter again.
His face showed a complex expression—not joy at the dramatic scene, but a subdued, deeply hidden sorrow and worry.
He took a deep breath and nodded: "Severus, we're professors."
Snape frowned, not getting the cryptic remark.
Of course, he wouldn't ask. Dumbledore always talked in circles, looping three times and twisting five ways.
Snape never fell for those traps.
On the other side, Charlie was back in his dorm. The combo of thunder, moonlight, and autumn wind had brought him a surprise today.
The surprise was great, but figuring out the reasons behind it mattered too.
How to mix them, tweak the recipe for the most controlled and optimal effect—that was his focus right now.
Time slipped by as he dove into recipe hunting. Anthony and Hector returned to the dorm, asking if he wanted to head down for dinner.
Charlie asked them to bring up a portion for him.
His mind was laser-focused on chocolate.
Night fell, the world outside pitch black.
In the dorm, candlelight flickered on the cluttered desk and in the corners.
The weather-predicting crystal ball showed snowflakes gently falling, gradually blanketing its inner world in pure white.