Harry Potter and the Candy Factory

Not long after the meeting concluded, Russell, carrying out the mission assigned by Charlie, swiftly arrived at Chaffcha's office.

After taking a relatively substantial amount of funds, he left the factory directly, heading towards the Prophet's newspaper headquarters.

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Located on Diagon Alley, amidst the bustling crowds of wizards and the intricate array of shops, the main office of 'The Daily Prophet' was nestled.

It was a small wooden house, divided into two floors, with a crooked structure that wasn't particularly aesthetically pleasing from a Muggle's perspective.

Unlike other shops that made their signs bright and eye-catching, the main office of 'The Daily Prophet' simply hung a wooden sign in front of its door.

The words 'The Daily Prophet' were engraved on it in a careless font, and the edges of the wooden sign showed faint signs of mold, indicating that it had been around for many years.

But this didn't matter... After all, as a newspaper publication, it was fundamentally different from the surrounding shops. Even if its storefront was dilapidated, it wouldn't affect the Daily Prophet's sales in the slightest.

According to Barnabas Cuffe, the editor of 'The Daily Prophet', the reporters didn't spend too much time here anyway, so it would be better to spend more effort searching for valuable news than wasting money on renovating the main office! Moreover, in a sense, such an environment could better inspire the editors and reporters to work harder...

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With a flash of light, Russell's figure suddenly appeared on the streets of Diagon Alley, inserting himself into the crowd.

"...A house-elf?"

"Ha, look, he's dressed like a wizard..."

Around Russell, the wizards who were originally passing by slowed their pace as they looked at the sudden appearance of the house-elf, their eyes filled with a mixture of surprise and curiosity, seemingly very interested in Russell's unconventional appearance.

So they turned to their companions and openly commented without reservation.

"… … … …"

In response, Russell's expression didn't change in the slightest. He ignored the gazes filled with various emotions and continued to look at the surrounding shops, as if he was used to it, without any emotional fluctuations.

He walked forward with the crowd, surveying everything around him, trying to find the address of 'The Daily Prophet' headquarters.

He showed an attitude of indifference to everything he heard. However, faced with Russell's silence and disregard, the wizards around him not only didn't restrain themselves but became even more unscrupulous.

"This guy must be a freak... Look at him, he's dressed better than me."

"Hey! Shorty, has no one ever told you that slaves shouldn't wear such nice clothes?"

"Can't you hear me? Did your master abandon you because your ears don't work, is that it?"

Just as one of the wizards was jokingly reaching out to grab Russell's collar, Russell, who hadn't reacted before, finally moved.

He turned his head, sidestepping nimbly, dodging the wizard's action, causing his outstretched hand to miss.

"Are you sure you know what you're doing?"

Russell's usually calm face became uncharacteristically serious, his large eyes narrowed as he stared at the other party coldly and calmly.

The originally joking wizard, under his gaze, felt his heart suddenly tighten for some reason, and his body subconsciously tensed up, taking two steps back.

However, when he realized it, perhaps feeling embarrassed and angry because of his subconscious retreat, his originally joking expression changed, eventually becoming unpleasant.

He also looked at Russell, his brow furrowed, and then took out his wand from his robes, pointing the tip at the other party.

"Do I need to be told what to do? It seems your previous master didn't teach you what you should be doing."

"..." Russell didn't say anything more, just looked at him calmly, his eyes seeming to see through everything, seeing through his inner weakness, and then slowly turning into pity and mockery.

"What, you only dare to pull out your wand against me and my companions? Because we won't resist, even if we're attacked, we'll only use our abilities to escape to another place, is that it?"

At this time, the commotion between the two had already attracted many passing wizards, as watching the excitement was human nature after all.

Moreover, they had never seen such a special house-elf speak to a wizard like this in such a place.

You should know that the innate status of house-elves has already determined their disadvantage.

Why don't those house-elves like so-called freedom? In fact, from a certain point of view, it's not just the curse from their bloodline, but also because this society has a natural discrimination against house-elves. Even house-elves with masters are inevitably despised and ridiculed. Not to mention those without masters... They will lose their homes, lose their food, lose everything.

Under such circumstances, if a wizard really attacked a house-elf, the ultimate result of the house-elf's resistance would be entering Azkaban or being executed by private means. The wizard who provoked it in the first place would probably not even need to make a statement and could continue to leisurely do what he hadn't finished.

Perhaps when he got home, he would forget about it, and occasionally, after a period of time, he would suddenly remember it and treat it as a diversion in life, telling his friends: "There was once a house-elf who didn't know the immensity of heaven and earth and tried to attack him. In the end, he died so cleanly that not even his bones were left..."

Listening to Russell's mocking words, and looking at the others who had stopped to observe the scene in front of them, the wizard's face finally couldn't hold on and became ugly.

"Ha... it seems you're crazy, good, then let me show you my power!"

He laughed in anger, his mouth twisted into a hideous grin, revealing a few yellow teeth, making an ugly smile.

Then he waved his wand, and just as a series of spells slowly chanted from his mouth, and a thin layer of light was rendered on the tip of the wand, Russell suddenly raised his head and said unhurriedly.

"Actually, I have a master, his name is Charlie Black... I come from the candy factory."

The words came out, although as calm as before, the effect was completely different... For a moment, the second half of the spell in the man's mouth, who had a ferocious expression, stopped abruptly.

The light of the wand instantly extinguished, and the expression on his face changed in the next moment.

Meanwhile, the surrounding onlookers, who had initially been gleefully anticipating Russell's downfall, suddenly shifted their expressions. Without hesitation, they hastily hurried away, as if encountering a plague, not even turning their heads as they moved forward.

"Damn it, I should have guessed!"

"Quick, let's go! Royce, let's go! Nothing to see here..."

"Ha, that kid's in for a world of trouble."

...

...

In the British wizarding world, ordinary wizards often feared three types of people:

First, Aurors, because Aurors represent power. They have the entire Ministry of Magic backing them. Encountering them is never a good thing.

Second, nobles, because nobles often represent class. They possess vast networks and resources. Although they pride themselves on their status, dealing with an ordinary wizard who offends them is often just a matter of a word.

Third, merchants, because merchants represent profit. Although they may not possess the abilities of the first two, they can leverage their interests to influence power and class, borrowing strength to achieve what they cannot do themselves... Moreover, because they don't have to worry about the backlash of power or maintain a noble facade, they can be even more unscrupulous than the former two.

Unfortunately, in these three categories, Charlie Black alone embodies two.

The heir of the Black family, one of the twenty-eight pure-blood noble families, and the owner of the largest factory in the entire British wizarding world. For anyone, this is an existence they would least want to provoke.

You might provoke Albus Dumbledore because you know he won't care about your taunts. You might provoke Cornelius Fudge because you know Fudge's status is remarkable, and to gain public support, he won't do anything to you, at least not openly.

But Charlie Black is different... A guy who dares to break with convention is often called a madman. And if this madman has extraordinary strength and vast wealth, then everyone will subconsciously ignore the fact that he is a madman... However, when you think of it again at a specific time, the fear in your heart will increase exponentially.

And this is precisely the mentality of the wizard facing Russell.

At this moment, he no longer had the arrogant air he had just displayed. One could say that the more smug he was just now, the more embarrassed he is now.

Finally, drenched in sweat, his face changing colors, he abruptly turned around, not daring to say anything more. He hastily pulled up his robes to cover his face, grabbed his companion, and ran away into the distance...

The surroundings were now empty. It was like an automatic barrier had formed around Russell, with all the wizards deliberately avoiding him, not daring to look at him, staring straight ahead.

He was already used to all of this. Russell took a deep breath and slowly exhaled.

After adjusting his exquisite dress, he continued the task Charlie had given him, starting to look for the main office of the Daily Prophet.

Diagon Alley wasn't very long. Soon, he found the crooked house among the shops. After looking it over to confirm, he solemnly walked inside.

...

...

...

"May I ask... what's your name?"

In Barnabas Cuffe's office, this portly middle-aged man wearing suspenders and a striped shirt warmly greeted Russell.

He even stood up from his seat and smilingly brought a chair over for him.

Clearly, the news that had just happened not long ago had reached this office faster than Russell.

"Russell."

Sitting in the chair, Russell smiled and nodded, saying,

"Just call me Russell."

Unexpectedly, upon hearing this, Barnabas Cuffe's eyes suddenly lit up.

"So you're Mr. Russell!"

"You know me?" Russell raised an eyebrow, a hint of surprise finally appearing on his face.

"Of course!" Cuffe laughed, stroking his belly as he did so.

"Yesterday's headline was Mr. Black's investiture ceremony! To write something different from the other newspapers, we specifically investigated many deeds and news related to Mr. Black... Among them, your name undoubtedly appeared the most."

"I see." Russell understood, the surprise in his eyes disappearing, and he calmly nodded.

"So... what brings you here this time?"

After briefly adjusting the atmosphere between the two, Cuffe didn't waste any more words and began to ask about the matter at hand.

"It was my respected and great master, Charlie Black, who sent me here. He only asked me to give this to you..."

As he spoke, Russell took out the neatly folded job advertisement from his pocket, unhurriedly unfolded it, and stood up to hand it to Cuffe.

"Job advertisement... Interesting."

Cuffe quickly accepted it with both hands. Looking at the most eye-catching words on it, he first raised an eyebrow, and then began to read it carefully.

As his eyes continued to move down, the fluctuations in his expression became more and more significant, and the shock in his heart became even stronger.

After reading it all, he suddenly looked up and asked somewhat stammeringly,

"Mr. Ru-Russell, forgive my impudence, but may I ask about this job advertisement..."

He didn't finish his sentence, but vaguely pointed to the top, the meaning of which was self-evident.

"My master has already confirmed with Minister Fudge, and Minister Fudge himself has personally agreed to this matter."

Cuffe felt his heart beating faster and faster. As editor-in-chief, with his sensitivity to news, he could already foresee the great shock that this job advertisement would bring to his readers, no, to the wizards of the entire wizarding world, when it was actually published!!

Perhaps, because of this news, he might even be mentioned in passing in British wizarding history.

Cuffe's lips trembled, barely managing a smile, and he nodded ingratiatingly at Russell.

"Please wait a moment, Mr. Russell."

After saying that, he ran out of the office door without looking back.

Soon after, when he returned, he had already breathed a long sigh of relief. It seemed that in those short few minutes, he had confirmed the truthfulness of Russell's words through his own means.

He walked up to Russell, knelt down, and grasped the other's hands.

"Rest assured... Mr. Russell, I understand the meaning of your master, Mr. Charlie Black!"