Harry Potter and the Candy Factory

“Um… Master.”

Just as he was about to leave, Russell suddenly paused.

He looked down at the floor, which was already in a terrible state, and couldn't help but reach out with his foot to rub it—the carpet immediately crumbled into dust.

Turning his head, he looked at Charlie.

“Master, do you need me to find someone to re-do the office?”

“No need…”

Charlie shook his head, reached out and hugged Fawkes, who was sleeping soundly on the table and unwilling to move, and continued to stroke him.

“I'll just clean it up myself with a Cleaning Charm later.”

Hearing this answer, Russell didn't say anything more, nodded, and prepared to leave Charlie's office, carrying the tray in one hand and the notebook in the other.

However, just as he reached the door, Charlie suddenly seemed to remember something, raised his head, and hurriedly called out to Russell.

“Wait! Russell…”

“Yes, Master! Is there anything else you need?”

Russell, who was just about to step out of the office, almost stumbled because of Charlie's sudden call, and while subconsciously answering, he steadied himself and looked back.

“This is for you.”

Charlie, holding Fawkes in his arms, deliberately shifted him to free a hand, and picked up another scroll from the table.

“Give it to that house-elf who made the violet candies yesterday.

When he makes this candy, we'll use it and the violet candies as our flagship products for the new season and promote them vigorously in the wizarding world.”

Hearing that it was new product information, Russell hurriedly nodded, put everything in his hands on the ground nearby, trotted back to Charlie's side, and solemnly took the drawing.

“This is…”

He carefully unfolded the drawing, his eyes widening as he looked at the writing on it.

“Snow Lemon?”

… … … … … … … …

It has to be said that in these thirty years, although Fawkes has never shown any signs of aging, his weight has indeed been increasing… Charlie sometimes couldn't help but wonder if he was feeding him too much?

“Cluck—Goo—”

Fawkes closed his eyes, nestled in Charlie's arms, enjoying Charlie's skilled owl-stroking technique, and occasionally making soft, comfortable chirping sounds.

After Russell took the drawing and closed the office door again, Charlie flicked his hand and grabbed the wand stored in his ring back into his hand.

Then, he aimed it at the scorched and unrecognizable area and softly chanted the spell.

“Reparo!”

In an instant, a pale blue light lit up at the tip of the wand, and an unnamed wind quietly swept through the entire room.

Immediately afterward, the blackened walls and bookshelves almost instantly returned to their previous state.

And the carpet and floor, which had already turned into charcoal, were miraculously renovated, and even the dust that had fallen on them was cleaned away.

In just a few breaths, when the gust of wind subsided and disappeared, the entire office immediately changed its appearance, even cleaner than it had been before last night.

“Not bad.”

Charlie looked around and took a deep breath in satisfaction.

Even the air had a faint hint of his favorite mint scent.

Even the trench coat hanging on the coat rack was cleaned by this Cleaning Charm.

“Indeed, learning this Cleaning Charm's casting technique from Andromeda was definitely one of the wisest things I've ever done in my life.”

Looking at the orderly room, Charlie seemed to remember something and couldn't help but murmur.

In his arms, Fawkes, who was still enjoying Charlie's superb massage, saw that he had stopped.

Shaking his fluffy feathers, he couldn't help but half-open his previously closed eyes again, raised his head, and made a series of dissatisfied calls to Charlie, who was lost in thought.

Charlie didn't react and still seemed a little absent-minded.

Seeing that he still didn't attract his attention, the greatly dissatisfied Fawkes stopped calling, chose to open his beak, pretended to peck at the pad of his index finger, and shook it hard.

“Good boy…”

After Fawkes's commotion, Charlie, who was still immersed in the memories of his childhood, had to turn his attention back to the present.

He took back his wand with some helplessness, lowered his head and comforted him, and reached out to continue stroking Fawkes in his arms.

Seeing that he had won, Fawkes finally let out two satisfied chirps, found a comfortable position in Charlie's arms again, closed his eyes, and curled up into a ball.

“Sigh.”

Unable to help but sigh, Charlie held Fawkes in his arms and leaned back relaxedly in the chair.

The thick curtains had been deliberately drawn open, and the gentle morning light shone through the glass, illuminating Charlie and making him feel warm all over.

“I hope Andromeda is doing well.”

Lying in the sunlight, he raised his head and said sincerely.

Living in a pure-blood family like the Blacks might be fortunate, or perhaps unfortunate.

Fortunately, Charlie got better living conditions and a better preschool education.

Moreover, he had transmigrated into this world, and the memories of his previous life of more than twenty years had not disappeared with it.

Therefore, from a young age, his father, Cygnus Black, regarded him as an unprecedented genius in the family.

He never hesitated to bring Charlie to various high-end banquets or private salons in order to emphasize the unprecedented genius bred by the noble bloodline of their Black family.

Even when Charlie was five or six years old, he had already been exposed to the powerful figures of various pure-blood families and various senior officials of the Ministry of Magic.

This also laid a solid foundation for him to be able to create such a huge factory in the future.

However, things often have the opposite side. Since he enjoyed the huge dividends brought by the identity of a pure-blood family's pride, then he must also accept the misfortunes it brought.

That is, his family members seem to be not very normal.

His father, Cygnus, was an extremely paranoid power-holder, and he emphasized the purity of the bloodline and the nobility of the family's class as if he were crazy. He never looked at ordinary wizards directly.

His eldest sister, Bellatrix, was another madman who followed in her father's footsteps. He had felt that she was not very normal since he was a child. Sure enough, she eventually followed her idiot husband to serve Voldemort.

His third sister, Narcissa, was just like her name, a proud narcissus. Although she didn't have the madness of her eldest sister or the paranoia of her father, her conceit was unbearable.

Only his second sister, Andromeda, allowed him to feel the warmth of a normal family member in this abnormal and deformed family.