” Inside the Headmaster’s office.
Snape glared at Charlen with a hostile expression.
Just a few minutes ago, Charlen had been discussing the new curriculum with Dumbledore.
Then this greasy-haired bat had rushed in.
Charlen greeted him warmly.
“Long time no see, Head of House Snape.
Still as…
wild and unconventional as ever, I see.
What I mean is, if you really don’t like washing your hair that much, you could at least use *Scourgify*.” Snape genuinely hated washing his hair, far beyond just skipping shampoo.
After all, if someone washed their hair with plain water year-round, its quality would actually be decent.
“Shut…
up!” The greasy man sneered, biting hard on every syllable, speaking in that distinctive tone of his.
Two simple words were dragged out like pulled taffy.
Charlen waved a hand dismissively, completely unbothered.
Seeing that he was completely immune to provocations, Snape turned his target to Dumbledore, who was watching the show.
“Dumbledore, while I’ve long known you might be getting senile, I truly didn’t expect you to agree to let a student who hasn’t even finished his third year return to teach as a professor.” “Now, Severus, you should know better than anyone that Gold is more than capable of serving as a professor.” Dumbledore was never easily swayed once he made up his mind.
“He is capable, indeed.
In his second year, he knocked out every single student in Slytherin.
Just now, he beat a dozen pure-blood families till they were begging for mercy, defeated over twenty Aurors, and rubbed the Minister of Magic’s face in the dirt!
Do you know what they’re calling him?” As Snape spoke, he glared at Charlen, wanting to see what the brat would say to defend himself.
He was disappointed.
Charlen remained entirely composed, taking Snape’s rant as a compliment.
“They’re saying Charlen Gold will be the Third Dark Lord!
And you—you’re placing such a danger right inside the school!
Do you really think he has no ulterior motives?
Especially this year—” “I have never considered Charlen Gold to be a danger.
Quite the contrary, in fact,” Dumbledore said seriously.
“Severus, that man has returned.
Or rather, he never truly died.
I found traces of him in the forests of Albania.” Both of them talked right past Charlen as if he weren’t even there.
But at the mention of Voldemort, Snape’s voice quickly dropped.
After a long silence, he finally spoke.
“You will regret this, Dumbledore!” “Severus, *I* am the headmaster!” Snape swept out of the room in a fury, his black robes billowing behind him.
“Charlen, Severus doesn’t mean any harm.
I hope you won’t take it to heart,” Dumbledore comforted.
Charlen naturally didn’t mind.
“Don’t worry.
I’ve even already decided what to give him for Christmas.” A deeply affectionate big bat would be very fitting!
He was actually referring to Woobat and its evolution, Swoobat.
This kind of Pokémon had a cute pig nose with a heart shape on it.
However, Charlen hadn’t actually unlocked Woobat in his Pokédex yet, so whether he could send this Christmas gift was still up in the air.
“I knew you were a good boy.
Speaking of Christmas gifts, though—” “Alright, Dumbledore.
My Christmas gift won’t disappoint you.
Let me get back to the curriculum.” Charlen interrupted Dumbledore to prevent him from dropping heavy hints about wanting woolen socks for Christmas.
Besides, he had already gifted him woolen socks for three years straight.
“First, I hope this course can be open to all year levels.
From first-year young wizards up to seventh-year wizards, even if it’s only one class per week.” At hearing this, Dumbledore’s brow furrowed.
He wasn’t worried about the first-years; with Charlen around, safety was guaranteed.
He had seen those Pokémon himself; unlike many high-hazard magical creatures, those little fellows were far more docile.
The issue lay with the seventh-years.
Seventh-year wizards had to face the N.E.W.T.
exams.
This directly affected what kind of career they could pursue after graduation.
As of now, neither the Ministry of Magic nor the wider wizarding world had any career path related to Pokémon.
This meant that if seventh-year wizards failed their N.E.W.T.
exams because of taking the Pokémon Master Class, they might be unable to find suitable employment.
“Trust me, Dumbledore.
One class a week won’t waste their time; if anything, it will give them a chance to relax.
Besides, just because the Ministry doesn’t have a relevant department now doesn’t mean it won’t in the future.
I’m confident I can persuade Fudge to establish a Department of Pokémon Management.” “We could even hold grand events no smaller than the Quidditch World Cup,” Charlen said.
He already had a vision in mind, though implementing it wouldn’t be simple, so he didn’t elaborate further at the moment.
Dumbledore nodded, dwelling no further on the issue.
“Then what about textbooks?
Currently, there isn’t a single book about Pokémon that could serve as a textbook.
If you plan to write one yourself, you’ll need to hurry.
There’s only one month left before term starts.” Today was July 29th.
In two days, Dumbledore would send Hagrid to take Harry Potter to Diagon Alley to buy his wand and textbooks.
Dumbledore doubted Charlen could get his textbook sold in Flourish and Blotts in time.
But as long as he could have it ready before the official start of term, it wouldn’t be a major issue.
“I’ll have it ready before term starts,” Charlen nodded.
“In addition, I’ll need a certain level of financial support from the school.” He had indeed saved up some money over the years.
Raising Pokémon for himself wasn’t a problem, but supporting all the students at Hogwarts would be a massive expense.
“I’ll bring that up with the school governors in a few days,” Dumbledore said.
Money was a minor detail in his eyes.
Right now, there was a more important matter he needed Charlen’s help with.
“Do you know what Nicolas had you bring to me?” “He didn’t say, but I guess it’s the Philosopher’s Stone,” Charlen stated frankly.
“Yes.
The Philosopher’s Stone, capable of granting immortality.
Just as I told Severus, that man has returned.
Only his current state is far from good.” “I reckon his current state is like a phantom—or even worse.
He might target the Philosopher’s Stone, attempting to use its power to restore his original body.
However, I’m not yet certain whether he would risk coming to Hogwarts.” “So what do you need me to do?” “Perhaps when the time comes, I’ll need a tiny bit of help from you.
As you said, the Dark type counters Ghost.” Behind Dumbledore’s half-moon spectacles, his bright eyes twinkled with a wink.
Charlen couldn’t stand the old guy winking at him like that, so he hastily agreed and fled the scene.