Harry Potter and the Candy Factory

Since Charlie accepted the two pillows Hagrid sent and specifically wrote to tell him how much he liked them, Hagrid seemed to have been inspired with great enthusiasm.

In the days that followed, almost every few days, Hagrid would send various precious "magical creature peripheral products" along with letters to Charlie.

Like necklaces made of Manticore fangs, and amulets made of Hippogriff feathers, and so on and so forth, different categories, different things, everything was available. Charlie exclaimed that he had broadened his knowledge…

Regarding Hagrid's kindness, he had also tried to subtly tell him in his replies about the price or rarity of these things.

What he didn't expect was that Hagrid just said magnanimously that he didn't care. He called it a return gift for all the sweets Charlie had given him before…

However, in reality, the value of the things Hagrid had sent over the past few days had far exceeded the actual price of the sweets.

Such extravagant behavior once made Charlie vaguely feel that this seemingly ordinary man, hiding in a small wooden house next to the Forbidden Forest, was probably a deeply hidden tycoon…

It's just that he doesn't care about his so-called wealth, everything is for fun, and he sees the essence of life more clearly than ordinary people…

Time passed quickly in seemingly ordinary days… The so-called troll incident seemed to be just a small stone thrown into a calm sea, even if it stirred up a temporary wave, it would still fall into the depths of the abyss called time, becoming silent.

Draco and the others' lives returned to their original state again, except for constantly searching for Professor Quirrell's so-called secret conspiracy, there was nothing else to pay attention to.

Lucius, as Charlie had advised, did not say much to the other members of the school board, and silently let the matter pass… Although he had not yet formally expressed his feelings to Charlie, in fact, from this small action of his, discerning people could understand his meaning.

Quirrell returned to his usual state—an old, stuttering, timid, and inferior good person. Besides having to guard against Snape's viper-like gaze every day, he only had to be a good servant as much as possible and satisfy all the requests of his master.

As for Snape… he was still waiting, or rather, watching the show with a cold eye.

Because he knew Charlie's character too well. With his vengeful nature, he would beat someone up even if James Potter looked at him in the corridor. How could he so easily let go of the murderer who almost killed his nephew?

Now, it seems like nothing happened. But Snape knew clearly that the calmer it was, the more violent Charlie's revenge would be. What will happen…? Under that seemingly indifferent face, a bit of the interest he only had when he was young was already faintly revealed…

… … … … … … … … … … … … …

Charlie was no different from usual, after all, all he could do now was wait patiently, waiting for Hagrid to send him a signal… like telling him: the prey has taken the bait, it's time to act.

However, this peaceful time was not short. Charlie waited day after day, as if it had formed a certain pattern.

Every morning, when he sat behind his desk, the first thing he did was undoubtedly to open the envelope that Russell had placed on the table early, in order to check Hagrid's records.

"Today, it rained a little, the unicorns spent the day by the Black Lake, the little unicorns snuggled beside the adults, playing and frolicking, and a few ran into the distance… … …"

"Today, probably because of yesterday's rain, there was a slight mist in the Forbidden Forest, and even the air was humid. Every time I breathed in, my whole throat felt like it was covered with a thin film, not very comfortable. The unicorns were familiar with the road in the mist, it seems that their magic made them never be disturbed by this kind of thing…"

"Today, I didn't see the unicorns, but I met the centaur brothers living in the Forbidden Forest. They said that the group of elves went to a farther place, probably in the location of the giant spiders… … …"

"Sorry Charlie, Fang's condition is not very good today, it should be a problem during yesterday's exercise. I put some medicine on him, so I didn't go to patrol the forest further, so I didn't see the traces of the unicorn."

… … … … …

… … … … …

… … … … …

Each letter, like a sketch, was written with great sincerity, making Charlie unable to help but immerse his thoughts in it while reading…

Perhaps, when there is a real opportunity in the future, Hagrid can also write a book like Newt, to record his many years of experience with magical creatures or some special experiences…

But unfortunately, although Charlie appreciated these letters from Hagrid, his most important purpose—that signal—had not appeared in his sight.

More than ten days were about to pass quietly. Seeing that Christmas was getting closer and closer, but there was no news here, even Charlie, who had always been patient, couldn't help but feel a little turbulent in his heart.

He couldn't help but wonder if it was because of his own reasons that Voldemort's actions had a butterfly effect, and he didn't do what he did in the previous plot; or whether Voldemort had already completed it, but Hagrid didn't find its traces as he had imagined… … …

Just when Charlie had already started thinking about backup measures, such as sneaking into Hogwarts at night, and then dragging him to Hogsmeade Village through a secret passage and other outrageous plans, things took a turn for the better on an ordinary day like usual.

This day, Charlie yawned and returned to the office as usual. Just as he was about to follow the usual tradition and open Hagrid's letter in the morning to see how the unicorn herd was doing yesterday.

However, unexpectedly, when he squinted his eyes and sat back in his office chair, and stretched out his hand to touch the place where Russell usually put down the envelope, the starting point was empty… … …

"Huh?"

Charlie rubbed his eyes, while also making his mind clearer, and then cast his gaze—the letter was not placed on the table as he had imagined.

"It's a little late today… …"

Just as he was talking to himself, and then put his middle finger and thumb together, intending to use a snap of his fingers to summon Russell to ask about the situation, the door of the office was suddenly knocked.

Hearing the knock, Charlie paused what he was doing, turned his head, and casually responded,

“Come in.”

“Good morning, Master Charlie! This is your mail for today.”

As expected, Russell walked in, respectfully handing the letters he held to the table.

After speaking, before Charlie could ask anything, he continued to explain,

“On the way, I noticed a small problem at the Muggle factory, which delayed me quite a bit.”

Charlie nodded thoughtfully, accepting the letters. Feeling the slight dampness from the morning dew, he didn't inquire further about the problem at the Muggle factory, simply instructing,

“Just handle it… Unless something significant happens at the Muggle factory, treat it like the other factories, no need to specifically notify me.”

Russell nodded upon hearing this. "Understood, Master…"

After speaking, he turned and skillfully walked out of the office, heading to prepare Charlie's morning coffee and biscuits.

As the door closed again, Charlie opened the letters in his hand.

He took out the letter, carefully unfolded it, and began to read from the beginning…

“Today, I woke up early and started the day's patrol with Fang…”

Charlie nodded, a faint smile appearing on his calm face.

Then, his gaze slowly moved downwards, beginning to absorb these rough words, recreating in his mind everything Hagrid saw.

It must be said that the more simple and sincere the words, the more power they have to infect others.

Even Charlie… Although, in the beginning, he only wanted to use this excuse to catch Voldemort, the excuse became purer as time went on.

Without making Charlie wait too long, Russell soon returned to the office with steaming coffee.

Charlie picked up the coffee, gently blew on it, and was about to take a sip when suddenly, his eyes glanced downwards.

The content he saw in that one glance caused the coffee cup already at his lips to abruptly stop in mid-air.

Subconsciously licking his lips that hadn't touched the coffee, Charlie placed the coffee cup back on the table, then focused his gaze, his mind instantly clearing, staring intently at the passage that seemed like a mere stroke, but in Charlie's eyes, weighed more than a thousand pounds.

“When returning from the lake, I saw a row of shallow footprints, as if someone had been wandering around. They were similar to the ones I saw yesterday near the centaur settlement… I think it's probably some young wizard from Hogwarts. Perhaps, besides you, there are others who are so passionate about unicorns, these magical and beautiful creatures. It's quite wonderful to think about…”

“Indeed…”

A fiery light, unprecedented, suddenly flickered in his eyes.

“Indeed, besides me, there are others who are passionate about unicorns… It's just that he is not a young wizard, and he doesn't just want to understand their habits…”

He muttered to himself, a bright smile involuntarily spreading across his lips as he spoke.

The drowsiness from just waking up in the morning vanished instantly, replaced by the excitement and determination that had been lurking in his heart for who knows how long.

“Master… Are you alright?”

Russell was startled by his reaction, blinked his large eyes a couple of times, and asked with confusion.

Charlie stood up from his chair, carefully read through the rest of the letter, and then turned his gaze to Russell.

Without answering Russell's question, he directly instructed,

“I need to go out.”

Russell paused, but quickly recovered. Seeming to be accustomed to his master's habit of leaving on a whim, he simply nodded, then took out his notebook, glanced at it, and naturally asked a series of questions,

“When does Master plan to leave? How many days will this trip take? Should I prepare a change of clothes?”

“As soon as possible. At most three or four days, but if it's short… I can probably be back for dinner tonight.”

Charlie nodded, walking out from behind his desk and heading towards the coat rack by the door, taking down his black trench coat.

“Alright…”

Helpless, Russell sighed softly and followed after him, heading towards the factory exit together.

… … … … … … … … … … … … …

“Well… That's all for today's lesson. I hope the students will diligently complete the homework I've assigned… Goodbye, students.”

The bell rang, and Quirrell, standing on the podium, hunched over and nodded to the young wizards below.

The young wizards scattered, ignoring the dull professor, and happily ran out of the classroom in groups, chattering.

However, under the wide turban, no one noticed the indelible darkness that appeared in the eyes hidden in the shadows…

He glanced sideways at Draco and his group, who were walking out while earnestly discussing something, and couldn't help but curl his lips into a mocking smile.

For a guy like him who could even deceive Dumbledore, he undoubtedly had far more cunning than a few eleven-year-old children… He naturally knew everything about their secret investigation into him.

But Quirrell didn't care. Because in his opinion, he had considered everything perfectly! There was no way they could find any fault… Otherwise, Severus Snape would have already made a move, how could it be their turn, these little snot-nosed kids?

When he raised his head again, the expression on his face had already become the same as usual.

After packing up his lesson plans, he didn't linger, walking slowly and cautiously towards his room…

“Hey… Draco, look.”

Ron, who was about to leave at the corner of the distant corridor, suddenly noticed something.

He widened his eyes slightly, tugged at Draco's sleeve, and gestured with his hand.

“Look at what?”

Draco was somewhat impatient, but still reluctantly turned his head and followed Ron's gaze.

“Look at his shoes, what's on Quirrell's soles? Is it mud?”