Because his brain had been running on overdrive, Charlie had a very clear sense of the timeline this time. The effects of the two-drop dose of mixed chocolate lasted right up until he finished his first homework assignment.
The time then had been 10:13 PM.
In other words, with the help of the moon-dew chocolate, his first seven-inch essay had only taken him about twenty minutes.
The second assignment—his personal insights and thoughts on the desire required for spellcasting—came out to five inches. That also took him roughly twenty minutes.
Neither essay presented much mental resistance. It wasn't exactly solving complex math equations, after all.
Which meant the moon-lightning chocolate actively amplified his brain's cognitive processing power?
No, it was more than that. It enhanced his physical senses too.
Back in the common room, Anthony kept complaining that he was talking too fast, and Hector had been baffled by how incredibly fast he was moving his pieces and hitting the chess clock.
Rubbing his aching head, he rested for a moment before pulling out his candy-making notebook, flipping through it from the back to the front.
Right now, the back section only contained entries for two types of sweets, detailing their recipes, effects, and mouthfeel.
"Page three," he muttered, pressing his quill to the parchment.
[Moon-Lightning Chocolate]
He quickly jotted down the formula, mouthfeel, and color.
As for the effects...
His quill paused as he searched for the right words.
Cognitive acceleration? Bullet time? Brain overdrive?
Suddenly, a cool dampness trickled onto his upper lip. He lightly wiped it away, only to find a smear of stark crimson on his fingertips.
He didn't panic. His gaze remained perfectly calm as he stared blankly at the blood on his hand.
Pure instinct told him exactly what this was: the physical toll of eating two doses of moon-lightning chocolate back-to-back.
So, there was a price to pay after all.
The moon-dew simply acted as a bridge, allowing the raw concept of 'lightning' to safely enter and stimulate the brain.
It didn't actively protect the brain itself. Meaning he had to personally bear the physical backlash of using the moon-lightning chocolate.
He definitely couldn't eat too many of these.
And if he ever planned to sell them as an actual product, he'd need to drastically lower the dosage.
Since there was a heavy cost...
He slowly brought his quill back down.
Moon-Lightning Chocolate. Effect: Brain Overload!
Dosage: Two drops.
Duration: Roughly twenty minutes. The effect remains intensely stable with no noticeable drop-off during this window.
Side Effects: Consecutive use will lead to severe physical brain strain and overload.
Wiping away the rest of the nosebleed, he unwrapped a piece of regular moonlight chocolate and tossed it into his mouth. A soothing, cooling sensation swept through his mind, instantly making him feel miles better.
A buff and a debuff, huh...
Modification idea: Use the moon-lightning essence blended into the chocolate shell to trigger the Overload state. Meanwhile, use pure moon-dew as the liquid center.
Once the brain enters Overload, the moon-dew core would act as an external mental supplement to support the strained brain.
Potential outcomes:
1. It extends the duration of the Overload state.
2. The pure moon-dew conflicts with the moon-lightning essence, prematurely terminating the Overload state.
3. The duration and effects remain unchanged, but the moon-dew acts as an after-care supplement, heavily reducing the physical side effects.
He flipped the notebook over to the front section—his casual idea log.
The front was dedicated to brainstorming, mostly wild theories or bizarre, fleeting thoughts he was worried he'd forget.
The 'Kinder Surprise' concept he'd discussed with Neville on the Hogwarts Express was jotted down on the very first page.
Right below it, he added a few brand-new formula ideas.
"Sun-dew + pure lightning essence. I wonder if that would trigger a physical bodily overload... make me run like The Flash?"
"A three-way blend of sun, moon, and lightning essences... I wonder if they'd violently reject each other."
If one were to flip a few pages back, they'd see the results of Charlie's summer experiments trying to mix sun-dew and moon-dew.
The answer had been a resounding 1+1<2.
The two pure essences actively conflicted with one another. He was far better off just eating two separate pieces of chocolate.
So far, he hadn't figured out a way around it.
"Currently, the defining trait of the moon-lightning essence is Brain Overload. I need to figure out if adjusting the dosage and tweaking the recipe can turn it into a viable, safe 'product'."
Finishing his notes, he snapped the book shut and tossed it into his desk drawer. He wrapped the remaining moon-lightning chocolate in parchment paper and packed away his candy-making kit.
By the time he was done, the clock had ticked over to eleven.
Anthony and Hector had finally finished their homework as well. The three of them climbed into bed, chatted aimlessly for a few minutes, and quickly drifted off into a deep sleep.
Damn it...
If I'm tired, I should just go to sleep...
Why the bloody hell was I in such a rush to eat that piece of moonlight chocolate?
He was completely wide awake.
Resigned, he crawled out of bed, carefully pulled his moon-dew vial out of his trunk, and sat on the mattress. Staring out the window at the night sky, he quietly activated his Natural Harvest.
...
Over the next two days, the course load felt significantly lighter.
In Defense Against the Dark Arts, Professor Quirrell—wrapped in a ridiculous purple turban and reeking of garlic—could barely stutter out a coherent sentence.
For once, Charlie didn't bother fighting for a front-row seat. He opted for an inconspicuous spot in the middle by the window, where he could quietly read on his own.
Compared to listening to Quirrell painfully stammer through his supposed heroic exploits with African princes, Charlie was much happier just reading the textbook.
At least the book contained actual, practical knowledge.
He'd actually held onto a shred of anticipation for their midnight Astronomy class, though that excitement was entirely based on the fact that he'd never used a telescope before.
The wizarding telescopes were clearly enchanted; the stars and the moon looked impossibly sharp and vivid through the lenses.
Since Hogwarts was nestled deep in the Scottish Highlands, the stargazing was unparalleled. Charlie overheard Hermione sighing about how she'd never seen a sky this beautiful back in London.
Which, honestly, made perfect sense. It was the smog capital of the world, after all. Nothing was beating that.
Come to think of it, Charlie had never actually managed to harvest any 'star energy'.
Their light was simply too faint.
Or perhaps the moon-dew already contained traces of starlight mixed in?
He made a mental note to find a clear night to test it against a canopy of stars. It was the only way to know for sure.
Astronomy class dragged on until ten-thirty, leaving them with exactly half an hour before curfew.
They had to trek all the way from the Astronomy Tower back to their respective common rooms. For Ravenclaw and Gryffindor—both housed in their own massive towers—the journey was an absolute nightmare.
"If any of you entertain the thought of loitering in the corridors, I assure you, Mrs. Norris will not show you any mercy," Professor Sinistra warned them as class dismissed.
The "Mrs. Norris" she mentioned was a scrawny, shedding old cat with a severe underbite. Every time Charlie saw it, it reminded him of the grumpy "grandma cats" from the internet in his past life.
If that thing suddenly jumped out at you in the pitch-black corridors of an ancient castle, it would genuinely be terrifying.
Not to mention she was always followed by Filch. The balding caretaker permanently wore a deeply unsettling, eager expression whenever he looked at the younger students.
He was actively praying for them to break a rule just so he'd have an excuse to punish them.
Charlie vaguely remembered the Sorting ceremony, when Alice had jumped off his head. Filch had been glaring daggers at him ever since.
Not that Charlie cared in the slightest, of course.
As for History of Magic, that was exactly as mind-numbing as expected, courtesy of their beloved ghost instructor, Professor Binns.
His lectures were agonizingly dry. During roll call, he'd read off a name literally no one recognized.
He spent ages waiting for a response before finally realizing he'd called out the name of a student who had graduated twenty years ago.
Charlie couldn't help but wonder if Professor Binns ever accidentally called out a student's parents' names during roll.
Like staring right at Draco Malfoy and repeatedly calling him Lucius Malfoy.
That would be pretty bloody hilarious.
Thursday afternoon arrived in a flash.
Today marked the beginning of a truly important class.
"Potions," Anthony muttered, wringing his hands nervously. "The older years say the bloke who teaches it is an absolute nightmare. I've been digging for gossip the last couple of days.
Did you know Slytherin has won the House Cup for years in a row now?
And the sole reason behind it is Snape."
"You're joking," Hector said, staring at Anthony in surprise.
"I'm dead serious. They only win the Cup because Snape is violently biased.
He deducts points from the other Houses like it's his favorite hobby."
As he spoke, both of them turned to look at Charlie.
"What about me?" Charlie looked up, currently focused on carefully flaking the meat off his pan-seared fish with a fork.
Beside his plate sat a bowl of perfectly smoothed mashed potatoes, a meticulously pre-cut steak, and a small pile of macaroni.
"I couldn't care less. As long as he isn't spouting absolute nonsense like Quirrell, I'm fine with it. If he actually teaches us real, useful magic, I'll happily enjoy his class."
Potions was going to be incredibly important for him, after all.
The fish was finally deboned, and all his perfectly prepped food was arranged neatly on a single plate.
Now, it was time to dig in.