Maybe it was the lightened mood that had settled over the entire castle, but Charlie's steps felt lighter as he made his way up to the eighth floor.
All along the corridors he could hear younger students cheering and laughing. He idly spun his wand between his fingers, vanishing it into his sleeve one moment and flicking it from left hand to right the next, playing with simple little tricks as he walked.
He reached Professor Flitwick's office quickly. The door stood slightly ajar. Charlie knocked twice and called, "Professor, I'm coming in."
Flitwick shot up from his chair. Looking at the professor's open outer robe, Charlie could almost picture him returning to the office ten minutes earlier and collapsing into the seat for a well-earned rest.
"Charlie. You're earlier than I expected."
"I was about to say the same thing, Professor. The upper-year exams didn't take you long?"
"They took plenty of energy, though." Flitwick smiled and spread his hands. "Sit. What would you like to drink?"
"Orange juice?"
A moment later Charlie lifted the glass and took a small sip. "All right, Professor. Straight to it. Do you think I'm ready for the next stage of study?"
Flitwick met his expectant look and shook his head. "At the moment I haven't drawn up any detailed plan for you."
"That's fair."
"What I actually wanted to ask," Flitwick continued, "is whether you already have plans for the holidays."
"Back to Cheshire," Charlie answered without the slightest hesitation.
"Is there… something specific waiting for you there? A place to stay?"
"Honestly, no real plans. As for a place to stay—of course there is." Charlie's fingers rested on the rim of the glass, turning it slowly.
A short silence followed. When Charlie glanced up in mild confusion, the professor finally spoke again.
"Hogwarts has a long tradition of allowing students to remain at the school over the holidays. As your Head of House I am obliged to mention it. But what I really wanted to say is… if you would like, you are also welcome to spend some of the holiday with me."
Ah. So that was it.
Charlie drew a quiet breath, then answered with a light smile. "I can already smell the delicious scent of knowledge. But I don't think I should impose on you for an entire summer."
"Your refusal is so politely phrased that I can't find a single reasonable objection," Flitwick said with a helpless little shake of his head.
"I'm very grateful for the invitation, Professor. Still…" Charlie thought for a moment. "I may still trouble you from time to time. I hope you won't mind when that happens."
"Sounds like bargaining to me. But all right. I don't mind."
Flitwick understood the feeling perfectly. Children like Charlie often had very little left in the world except a thin layer of pride. It might not look like much, but they guarded it fiercely, because it was all they had.
Flitwick himself had once been the same—refusing anyone's pity, rejecting any help that carried even a hint of charity.
"How should I reach you, then?" Charlie asked. "I think the Leaky Cauldron would work well."
"Good idea." Flitwick did not disagree. He went on to explain the practical details of how they could contact each other. Once Charlie had volunteered the Leaky Cauldron, the remaining arrangements were simple.
Ten minutes later Charlie opened the office door again.
"Charlie," Flitwick called after him, "may I ask one more thing? Why go back to Cheshire?"
Charlie paused, hand resting on the brass doorknob, thumb moving slowly across the metal.
"After long enough, a foreign place becomes home, Professor."
Flitwick's answering nod was slow and a little stiff. Only after Charlie had gone did the small professor lift his head fully again. "It seems I misunderstood you."
Charlie headed downstairs.
He had just reached the staircase between the fifth and fourth floors when a sharp voice suddenly rang out.
Professor McGonagall's.
"Do the two of you somehow believe yourselves more powerful than an entire arsenal of spells?"
She sounded furious. The anger seemed to fill the entire fourth-floor corridor.
"If I catch either of you loitering here again I will take fifty points from Gryffindor. Yes—from my own House!"
Charlie stepped onto the fourth floor.
"Ah, Mr. Wonka. Did Professor Flitwick mention the option of remaining at school over the holidays?" McGonagall's tone shifted at once to something lighter.
"He did. I declined." Charlie smiled. "Thank you for your concern, Professor."
He turned to the two boys still standing there. "What are you two doing here, Harry, Ron?"
"Uh… nothing?" Harry seized the offered exit with both hands.
"You had better mean that, and you had better act like it," McGonagall said sharply. "Exams are over. Go back to your common room or out onto the lawns and enjoy yourselves."
Both boys nodded rapidly and slunk away. Charlie followed a few steps behind them, said goodbye to McGonagall, and continued downward, turning toward Ravenclaw Tower.
---
Inside the Ravenclaw dormitory.
"Good afternoon, Charlie." Fiona flew up and began circling his head in lazy loops.
A few steps farther in, a familiar female voice spoke. "Good afternoon, Charlie. How did the exams go?"
Charlie turned toward the painting. A spark of real pleasure lit his eyes.
Ever since the shop painting had been attacked, Lely had first been frantic and then sunk into a strange, almost lifeless stillness. For days she had stood motionless, not even blinking, looking less like a magical portrait and more like an ordinary picture. Charlie had deliberately given her space.
Now, at last, she seemed to be recovering some of her spirit.
"Exams were easy. Thanks for asking." Charlie smiled and sat down at the desk so he was facing her directly. "How about you? Feeling better today?"
"Much better."
"Good." He didn't press further. There were many questions he wanted to ask about magical portraits, but this was not the moment.
"Don't overthink it. If you still want the job, I'll paint you something even better next time. If you'd rather not, you can stay here as long as you like."
"Thank you, Charlie." Lely smiled. "Of course I want to continue. I still love seeing the looks on the younger students' faces when they taste the chocolate."
"So do I."
"I also have to admit I failed to protect you properly in that painting."
Lely immediately waved her hands in distress. "No—that wasn't your fault, Charlie."
"It's fine. It's something I should have planned for from the beginning. Next time it won't happen again."
"I believe you." Lely nodded with quiet seriousness.
Fiona landed on his open palm, one tiny finger resting against her chin. "So what are you going to do now that exams are over, Charlie?"
"Holidays start. Leave the school. Go somewhere else for a while."
He closed his other hand gently around her chubby cheeks and gave them a light squeeze.
"Don't worry. I'm taking both of you with me. You can see a bit of the outside world."
His gaze drifted toward the window.
On the far side of the castle stood another tower.
Some outcomes could be changed.
Some people, however, were far harder to change.
And therefore the things those people felt compelled to do were equally hard to prevent.
Inside Gryffindor Tower the atmosphere had already begun to turn heavy.
That tension lasted through dinner, followed them back from the Great Hall, and was still hanging in the air when curfew finally arrived.