Harry Potter and the Candy Factory

These words seemed to drain all his strength… Dabu lowered his head again, not daring to look at Charlie's eyes and the expression on his face.

He knew that Mr. Black must be looking at him… because he felt a strange pressure, the weight of his gaze.

The office was extremely quiet. After he finished speaking, there was no sound. He could even hear the faint "thump, thump" of his heart beating in his chest… and the faint snoring of the pile of owls on Mr. Black's desk.

Time seemed to stretch out endlessly, and every second was excruciating. It was like a prisoner waiting for the executioner's final sentence, a suffocating oppression.

Just as Dabu felt his heart beating more and more violently, as if he would collapse under the pressure emanating from Mr. Black, Charlie finally spoke.

"Why do you want to go to Hogwarts? Don't you like the job I arranged for you?"

To Dabu's surprise, his voice was still as gentle as ever, not as angry as Dabu had imagined. Instead, it sounded like he was having a warm discussion with him.

As his voice fell, the pressure that had been weighing on Dabu's heart disappeared completely, and even the stagnant time began to move again.

Dabu raised his head and glanced cautiously at Mr. Black.

Outside the huge French window behind him, the midday sun shone in, falling on him and softening the lines of his figure.

And his expression remained unchanged, the gentle smile never leaving his face.

Only then did Dabu realize with some clarity that Mr. Black was still the same Mr. Black he had met before. Just because he was sitting here, in that position, didn't mean he would become someone else.

"No, actually, Mr. Black… I like it very much, and I understand what you mean."

Charlie's gentleness seemed to give him the courage to continue. Dabu shook his head, his eyes gradually becoming firm as he looked at the other person and said sincerely,

"But I want to go out and see… to see what the world is like outside this factory."

"You've been out once before, remember?"

Charlie pondered for a moment, thinking for a while.

Then he reached out and pointed to Dabu's broken leg, reopening Dabu's newly healed scar without any hesitation…

"And the result wasn't very good."

Hearing Charlie's direct words, Dabu pursed his lips. He lowered his head, looking at his wooden leg, and in a daze, it was as if that night was once again playing out in his mind…

As a child who had grown up in the large greenhouse that was the factory, everyone around him was so kind and lovely, whether it was Chaffcha and Anke as his parents, or Russell as his uncle, and every little elf he knew in the factory…

Before stepping out of this door, the only human wizard he had ever seen was the boss of this factory—Mr. Charlie Black, who was respected by all the little elves.

At that time, he naively thought that all human wizards should be like Mr. Black.

Even though his parents had told him more than once that not everyone liked little elves, he had never taken it to heart.

After all, even if it was bad, how bad could it be?

However, it was this naive idea that was completely destroyed in the Blind Pig Pub—

Before his drunken eyes, those blurred and wildly grinning ugly faces, shouting, cursing, turning the entire bar into a real hell.

Wands were held in their hands, flashing with dangerous and deadly light.

Then came the sharp pain, the dense pain making him forget what he should do. Under the great fear, even the magic engraved in every little elf's genes lost its effect.

In the end, he could only faint in deep fear, desperately waiting for it all to end.

… … … … …

Dabu almost subconsciously began to tremble, as if the wounds on his body that had already healed were beginning to ache faintly again.

And in those big eyes, the original firmness quietly disappeared… turning into some confusion and hesitation.

Finally, he slowly lowered his head, no longer meeting Charlie's gaze, but looking at the carpet under his feet.

Charlie frowned slightly, sighed with some pity, and then continued,

"Okay, go back, get a good night's sleep, and then go to Russell in a few days to report… You're still too young. Living in the factory, you don't understand what it's like outside.

The world is not full of good people, or at least a large part of them are… There are still many people like those in the Blind Pig Pub. Although they may not attack you as directly as that, the cold eyes and discrimination they give you will not be any less harmful than a Severing Charm."

Charlie said, pausing… He looked at Dabu, who was still lowering his head in silence and no longer looking at him, and softly discussed in a tone like coaxing a child,

"Wait a few days… Wait a few years, until everything we need to do is finished, then you can go out without worry, okay?"

However, to Charlie's surprise, the child in front of him rarely chose to refuse his request.

He shook his head, although his calf was still trembling faintly, the stubbornness in his expression did not diminish at all.

"But even if not everyone is a good person, even if not a large part of them are good people… there are still more good people than bad people, right?"

Dabu raised his head and asked softly.

Charlie couldn't help but be stunned for a moment, opened his mouth, and was thinking about how to answer Dabu's question when he continued speaking.

"You said just now that I have grown up… What I want is not to hide behind my parents, hide in the factory, and wait for you and others to take care of everything…"

Dabu continued, and as each word fell, the trembling calf regained its stability, his voice began to become louder and louder, and the confusion and hesitation in his eyes disappeared completely, replaced only by the light that was shining again.

"I also want to participate. I want to understand humans, and also let humans understand little elves… I want to earn respect through my own efforts and become friends with them. Maybe not everyone is a good person, but as long as most of them are, that's enough!"

“After all, Mr. Charlie is a good person… How bad can a good person really be?”

… … … … … … … … … … … … …

Even Fawkes seemed to be affected by Dougal's impassioned words, stirring awake from his slumber.

He raised his head, his half-open eyes still carrying a hint of confusion. The feathers on his body were fluffy and disheveled…

Fawkes surveyed the quiet surroundings. First, he looked at his master, then at the little elf opposite his master.

After confirming that nothing was happening, just as he was about to go back to sleep, Charlie suddenly reached out and pulled him from the table into his arms.

“Did you say this to your dad before you came to me?”

Charlie's lips curled into a smile. He stopped looking at Dougal, lowered his head, and casually took a handful of owl treats from his desk drawer, offering them to Fawkes.

In terms of his fondness for hiding food in drawers, Charlie was indeed very much like his old headmaster, Albus Dumbledore. It's just that the food he hid was never for himself.

Seeing the food offered to him, Fawkes perked up again, his half-open eyes fully opened, and after shaking his head, he began to enjoy a delicious meal.

“No… no.”

Dougal's momentum weakened, his composure suddenly broken by Charlie's question, and he could no longer maintain his previous state.

He scratched his head somewhat embarrassedly, but then quickly added:

“But my dad listens to you! As long as I can convince you, then he will definitely agree… Even if, even if I get beaten up by him, I think it's worth it!”

“Ah… he wouldn't bear to hit you.”

Charlie relaxed his body, leaning back into the chair. As he spoke, he couldn't help but let out a sigh of relief.

Once Fawkes had eaten all the food in Charlie's hand, the ring on his hand lit up.

This time, what came into his hand was not a wand, but stationery, an envelope, and a quill.

“Are… are you going to write a letter?”

Seeing Charlie's actions, Dougal tiptoed forward, cautiously probing, and asked.

“Yes.”

Charlie nodded, spreading the stationery flat on the desk, and placing the envelope aside. With one hand holding Fawkes, he used the other to pick up the quill and began to write smoothly on the paper.

“Who are you writing to?”

Dougal took two steps forward, and when Charlie didn't say anything, he took two more steps, coming to the front of the desk.

“Albus Dumbledore… and Dadda.”

The flamboyant handwriting of the quill did not pause for even a moment, as he wrote, he truthfully answered Dougal's question.

Hearing Charlie's answer, Dougal's heart thumped loudly.

His breathing faintly stagnated, and his already large eyes widened even more for a moment, looking at the other party in disbelief.

“So, you mean…”

A short letter was finished by Charlie in just two minutes.

When the last punctuation mark was placed, the stationery, originally lying flat on the desk, floated into the air without any wind, folded several times, and finally flew into the envelope.

“Alright, go back and tell Chaffinch… ”

Holding the letter, Charlie showed it to Dougal before winking at him.

“Just tell him that I have agreed to your request, and tell him to come to me if he has any problems.”

“Thank you!! Mr. Charlie, you are simply the best person in the world!!!!!”

At this moment, Dougal seemed to have forgotten that his calf was gone, replaced by a prosthetic leg carved from wood. In his excitement, he actually jumped up, soaring more than a meter into the air.

The consequences were also imaginable, under Charlie's witness, with a “thump”. He sat directly on the ground.

Fortunately, Charlie's office was covered with a thick carpet, which prevented him from being hurt in any way.

And Dougal, who had fallen, was not sad, but instead grinned as he got up from the ground.

“Well, I'll go back first, Mr. Black!”

As he spoke, Dougal happily ran towards the door, and at the last moment before exiting, he turned around, gave Charlie a sincere bow, and then opened the door and skipped out.

He didn't go anywhere else, but ran directly towards his home, even his wooden leg seemed to lighten up with his body.

Charlie looked at the departing figure, unable to help but reveal a brilliant smile. Feelings that he didn't know how to describe also rose in his heart.

He had been praised by many people, and many people had called him a “good person,” whether it was Fudge, Hagrid, or even old Mr. Weasley, and even that Umbridge, whom he disliked very much, had also held his hand ingratiatingly, expressing gratitude to him in this way.

But the only one who truly made him happy was Dougal… because he was sincere, he really thought so, and it wasn't just a formality.

In his heart, he was the best person in the world.

Even though Charlie himself knew that he was not really a good person, he was just a speculator, a gray figure who walked between black and white. But this didn't stop him from being willing to feel happy for a sincere compliment… It could also be considered as bringing some temporary comfort to his hypocritical soul.

“Alright, Fawkes…”

Charlie released the owl, who had shrunk back up after finishing his meal, from his arms, and while skillfully scratching his head, he handed over the letter he had just written, and continued to say softly:

“Go, help me deliver this letter to Headmaster Dumbledore.”

“Coo—”

Fawkes's voice sounded somewhat dissatisfied, but looking at the letter in front of him, he still opened his mouth and held it in his beak.

Two claws, which were originally hidden very well in the feathers, re-extended, and then, with some calculation, stepped on Charlie a few times. After wrinkling Charlie's clothes a bit, he was finally satisfied and began to flap his wings, and then took off.

Charlie waved his hand gently, opening a crack in the closed window, just enough for his body to squeeze through.

Holding the letter in his beak, Fawkes, flapping his wings, turned into a stream of brown-black light, flying towards the distance, until he finally disappeared. The small crack in the window also closed again.

Charlie was still sitting in his seat, resting his elbow on the table, holding his forehead, seemingly thinking about something… The quiet room once again became Charlie's own space.

.