Harry Potter and the Candy Factory

The two bombshells that Charlie dropped in quick succession left Russell completely stunned.

After a long while, he finally managed to absorb the massive information contained within those few words, barely managing to calm himself down.

Although his gaze returned to its usual rationality, the incredulous bewilderment and shock in his words could not be easily erased.

After his lips trembled almost imperceptibly twice, he opened his mouth again, breaking the silence that had just formed in the air.

“Forgive my boldness, esteemed master… a dullard like Russell would like to know, do you already have a suitable candidate in mind?”

In fact, it wasn't Russell's fault for reacting so strongly… After all, whether it was establishing a new department or choosing a Muggle as the new director, either one alone would be a sensational event.

You must know that the position of director represents the highest authority below the factory manager.

The other five house-elves with the title of director, besides Russell, each held a lifeline or a highly confidential project in their hands.

It was precisely through their tacit cooperation and mutual connection that the current management system network covering the entire factory was formed, managing everything in an orderly manner.

It could even be said that the Charlie's Chocolate Factory's ability to achieve such brilliant results was certainly inseparable from Charlie's many magical candies, but the collaboration and efforts of Russell and the others were also absolutely necessary conditions for the composition of this behemoth!

Under this stable connection, Charlie suddenly announced that he would select a new director, and this director was a Muggle! Although he didn't say much, the worry and unease in Russell's heart were obvious.

Charlie didn't speak, but instead pushed the document on the table forward and signaled for him to pick it up and take a look.

Russell didn't hesitate, tiptoeing to carefully feel for the document on the desk, placing it in front of him, and began to carefully read it word by word. Although he thought he had made all the necessary preparations in his heart when he received the document, and had been silently implying to himself, "The great Master Charlie is right in everything he does…"

However, when he saw the name marked on the document, and the familiar face on the photo in the upper right corner, he let out the third exclamation in a short period of time after arriving at the office.

“Vernon Dursley!??"

… … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … …

At this moment, Dursley, who was obviously the main figure being discussed by the two people in the office, was completely unaware of everything that was happening.

He was not aware that he was about to be appointed as a new director, but instead, after waking up from a nap, he was anxiously worried about what kind of reaction Black would have to his actions… Would he laugh it off, agree happily, or even intensify things?

Everything was possible, after all, in Dursley's view, such an eccentric and unpredictable person could do anything. And he, as an ordinary Muggle, an employee under the other party, a father… all he could do now was pray.

Pray for his mercy, pray for his compassion, pray that he would bestow kindness on such a happy day as Christmas.

Even, in order to be more effective, he even changed the object of his prayer from God to Merlin (this was what the drinking buddies at the Leaky Cauldron told him: "The ethereal God can't give you any good, but Merlin's soul is forever wandering in the skies of England, bringing happiness to his children!")

However, unfortunately, from the time he woke up until the night completely fell the next day, he had not received any news from Charlie Black.

With a "ding-dong" sound, the twelve o'clock chimes in the living room seemed to be announcing the arrival of Christmas to everyone, but it was also like a huge hammer, shattering the last bit of hope in the heart of this seemingly strong man.

He stared at the small Christmas tree standing in the living room not far away, and the gifts stacked under the Christmas tree. Tears finally burst out of his eyes uncontrollably, flowing down his thick cheeks accompanied by low and painful sobs… … … …

Petunia sat beside him, quietly watching Dursley. She, who was originally most likely to cry because of Dudley, was uncharacteristically not crying with Dursley at this time. She reached out and slowly hugged him, gently leaning her head on his sturdy shoulder, just like Dursley comforted her at the beginning, and said

“It's okay… … … … dear… … everything will be alright… … … ”

The two people sat quietly on the sofa in the living room under the dim yellow light. The hands of the clock did not stop, but continued to turn slowly. It was not until after turning a little more than half a circle, when the hour hand pointed from twelve to two, that Dursley's mood finally calmed down.

He drooped his head, took a deep breath, and couldn't help but ask in a hoarse voice

“What should we do now? Marge will be here for dinner tonight. If she sees Dudley like this, then everything will be over… … … ”

Marge is Dursley's sister, a stubborn, irritable woman whose language is full of meanness, which has led to her still living alone, without a husband or children, only twelve bulldogs as her companions.

“There will always be a way. At worst, we can make up a reason, like… … … … let Dudley fake his death! Then we secretly raise him and let him live at home.”

Dursley, who had been drooping his head, couldn't help but raise his head and look at the look in his wife's eyes that didn't seem to be joking, and couldn't help but ask

“Are you kidding me?”