Harry Potter and the Candy Factory

Chapter 141: The Leaky Cauldron (Happy Children's Day)

Soon, Dudley, completely unaware of anything amiss, finished his breakfast as usual and slumped onto the sofa.

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He compressed the still-decent sofa, causing it to sink in, and even the springs beneath emitted a distinct "creak" under the intense pressure, sending a shiver down one's spine…

On television, BBC was broadcasting a new episode of Mr. Bean, which Dudley watched with fascination, occasionally erupting in bursts of laughter mixed with snorts.

Unlike his parents, in the carefree eyes of Dudley, these past few months had probably been the happiest days of his life!

He didn't have to go to school, nor did he have to leave home. His parents loved him as always, and they would prepare lavish meals for him every day to make him happy.

All he needed to do was eat, watch TV after eating, and then sleep. Besides that, there was nothing else… This was simply a life like a god!

Except for the significant change in his face—no longer as handsome as before.

But what did that matter? Anyway, no one would see him like this. He got used to looking at himself in the mirror, and he didn't feel too horrified.

Besides, Dudley had once overheard an Asian boy in his class tell a story about a monk who led three disciples to become gods…

Although he couldn't remember the name of the story, he could vaguely recall that one of the monk's three disciples had a pig's head, just like him now.

Since that disciple could become a god, maybe he could too?

… … … … … … … … … … … … …

Dudley was engrossed in the television, completely unaware that his father had put on a suit he hadn't worn in a long time, and, along with his mother, had come to the door, holding a briefcase.

"I haven't worn this in a while… This suit seems to have shrunk a lot."

Dursley looked down, noticing his bulging belly stretching the suit into an obvious and exaggerated curve, with the buttons seemingly about to burst. He couldn't help but mutter a few words.

Petunia's gaze was as gentle as flowing water, not concealing the love within.

Hearing her husband's words, she paused, her brow furrowing slightly, revealing some difficulty. After a moment of hesitation, she asked,

"Or, how about we go buy a few suitable clothes first? Anyway, there's still some time before the deadline written on that job advertisement…"

However, Dursley shook his head, casually picked up the hat hanging on the coat rack by the door, put it on, and said in a deep voice,

"No, I should go a bit earlier!"

After saying that, he turned around, resolutely twisted the handle of the outer door, and as the door was slowly opened by Dursley, he strode out towards his yellow small car parked outside.

Sitting in the car, inserting the key, and starting the engine, after a series of practiced actions, Dursley took one last look at his wife standing in front of the door, waving his hand, a gentle smile appearing beneath his thick mustache.

Then, with the roar of the car's engine, Dursley finally left.

With complex feelings, he started his journey towards the address marked on the job advertisement…

He skillfully controlled the steering wheel with one hand, and with some effort, he took out the folded job advertisement from his suit pocket with the other hand, shook it open, and glanced at the address on it again.

"The Leaky Cauldron, Charing Cross Road, Westminster, London?"

Dursley raised his eyebrows, unable to resist muttering to himself, "What a strange name, but it does fit the naming habits of wizards."

After saying that, he seemed to inexplicably recall some old, unfunny jokes in his mind. Dursley's lips twitched, and he exhaled a deep breath, the original sense of complexity in his heart inexplicably easing a bit.

"Accept reality, Vernon."

Turning his head, his gaze returned to the asphalt road in front of him. As he spoke, his right foot on the accelerator slowly pressed down.

"Sometimes things are just like this. Living in this world is always unsatisfactory. It's not like you can really avoid touching something you hate… Besides, who knows if it will really be that bad? Maybe when you get there, they might even buy you dental insurance?"

The pointer on the car's speedometer began to tremble slightly upwards as the accelerator was pressed down. The "rumbling" sound grew louder, and a faint sense of push came from the car.

Then, driving the entire car, it weaved through the not-so-crowded traffic, following the road signs that occasionally appeared, speeding towards the Westminster area of London.

… …

Dursley didn't deceive Petunia, at least in terms of distance. The distance from Surrey to London was indeed not far, usually only about an hour's drive. And after Dursley deliberately increased his speed, this time was further shortened.

Soon, the car came to a stop next to a sign with "Charing Cross Road" written on it.

With a "click", he turned off the engine, opened the door, and got out of the car. As he got out, he didn't forget to take the job advertisement from the passenger seat.

Afterwards, standing in this beautiful city he had never been in contact with before, Dursley licked his lips, feeling a bit nervous.

London was clearly less than fifty miles from Little Whinging, but the environment was a completely different landscape.

Compared to the fresh and elegant Little Whinging, even the air had a warm tone with a not-so-fast pace, everything in London revealed the atmosphere of a new era.

In this most prosperous city in the entire United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland, you could even feel a faint collision between the old and new eras.

The towering skyscrapers echoed the calm Buckingham Palace.

The chimes of the Elizabeth Tower on the banks of the Thames and the disco music that occasionally came from Leicester Square presented a contrasting scene.

Apart from the dim sky that could still give Dursley some comfort, everything around him made this middle-aged man from a "small place" feel uneasy.

He turned his head and looked around, his gaze sweeping over the smiling handsome men and beautiful women, or the old-fashioned gentlemen with newspapers in their hands.

Then, he subconsciously looked at the brown suit he was wearing, which he didn't know how many years ago he had bought, and couldn't help but feel a bit of regret…

He knew he should have listened to Penny's advice… and bought himself some decent clothes, at least to make himself look more presentable.

But alas, it was too late for regrets; they wouldn't serve any purpose now.

Therefore, Dursley had no choice but to take a deep breath, sucking in his protruding belly to prevent the buttons from popping off in a truly embarrassing fashion.

Then, he briefly smoothed out the wrinkles on his suit, from the hem to the tie.

He turned to look at himself in the car window, and after confirming that everything was in order, he finally nodded twice in satisfaction and began searching along Charing Cross Road for his destination: the Leaky Cauldron.

He strolled back and forth along Charing Cross Road, pondering how to introduce himself to the interviewer in a way that would set him apart from the common folk, all the while searching for the so-called Leaky Cauldron.

Soon, however, Dursley encountered a new problem: he had walked up and down Charing Cross Road for about thirty minutes, searching all the while, but he couldn't find any sign with the words "Leaky Cauldron" on it.

"What's going on? Did I misread it?"

He finally had to stop, taking out the job advertisement once more. With furrowed brows, he muttered to himself while carefully examining the address.

"No mistake, it's…"

He stopped mid-sentence.

The little elf portrait at the bottom of the job posting, which had previously been doffing its hat in thanks, had now changed.

It had put its hat back on, faced forward, gave Dursley a comical, yet friendly, smile, and slowly raised its hand, pointing in a direction without lowering it.

"Huh?" Dursley narrowed his eyes, then tentatively turned around to look at the elf again.

Sure enough, as Dursley turned, the elf turned as well, its raised arm sweeping through a half-circle, still pointing to the same spot.

He looked up, gazing in the direction the elf was pointing.

It was a brick wall between a luxury goods store and a French restaurant. The wall was covered in red ivy and seemed utterly unremarkable.

With some hesitation, Dursley slowly walked over to the wall, stopping about a meter away.

"Are you sure?"

He looked up, glancing left and right, and when he saw that no one was paying attention to him, he quickly lowered his head and whispered the question.

The elf's smile widened, and it nodded eagerly, as if answering Dursley's question.

Immediately afterward, a line of text appeared below the elf's portrait. The message was short and simple, consisting of just two words: "Rush out."

"Glug," Dursley paused, then swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing.

He raised his hand and forcefully patted the wall. The solid brick immediately pushed back against his hand, causing a throbbing pain in his fleshy palm. It was definitely not a hallucination, but a real, tangible wall.

"Are you sure?" He widened his eyes, looking at his reddening palm, and asked again in disbelief.

The elf's response to him was still "Rush out," only this time the font was several times larger.

"This is crazy…" Dursley's lips trembled slightly as he gasped, his tone becoming increasingly incredulous.

"I'm actually believing some ridiculous wizard trick, driving all this way to run into a wall?"

But having said that, he didn't leave. Instead, his gaze kept shifting back and forth between the wall and the job advertisement.

After about five or six minutes of agonizing internal struggle… until people on the street started to notice Dursley's strange behavior and began to suspect that the stout man was relieving himself against the wall, he finally made up his mind.

"I think this might be the stupidest decision I've ever made… but! This is for my son!"

Dursley slowly took a few steps backward, retreating about five or six meters before stopping.

"Dudley!!!!!"

Suddenly, the tranquility of the street was shattered by a passionate roar.

Everyone instinctively looked in the direction of the sound, and they saw a stout man in a suit, head lowered and eyes closed, rushing towards the wall with lightning speed.

As he ran, he let out a heroic roar.

"Aaaaaahhhhh! Daddy loves you!!!"

With a "thump," just as the onlookers were trying to figure out what was happening, the man vanished. The instant before his head collided with the solid wall, he disappeared from the spot.

The people on the street were so startled by the scene before them that they were speechless for a moment, but then, suddenly, they all paused, a flicker of confusion in their eyes, before turning their heads and refocusing on what they were originally doing, as if nothing had happened.

… … … … … … … … … … … … …

Today, the Leaky Cauldron was even more boisterous and lively than usual.

Amidst the noisy and chaotic crowd, there were not only male and female wizards wearing stained robes, but also many Muggles, like Dursley, dressed in suits.

At this moment, those Muggles had abandoned the restraint of their original society, raised their glasses, and, imitating the wizards beside them, happily drank, joining in this unprecedented carnival.

Here, fueled by alcohol and the atmosphere, everyone seemed to have become friends, with none of the sensationalism that was often talked about.

Muggles and wizards shook hands, shoulder to shoulder, taking large gulps of the wine in their glasses while chatting about their experiences or boasting, as if they were long-lost brothers.

"Nice suit!! I've never seen this fabric before. Did a Muggle tailor make it?"

"It's from Dunhill, very expensive! I knew I was coming for an interview today, so I wore it specifically for the occasion!"

"Hahahaha… interesting, have a drink!"

… … …