Harry Potter and the Candy Factory

In Malfoy Manor, as the minute hand of the grandfather clock was about to point to twelve, the family of three had already made all the necessary preparations.

Their attire was both decent and appropriate, not as extravagant and luxurious as if attending a formal dinner with other nobles, yet the exquisite details and cut demonstrated the importance they placed on this family gathering.

Even the most fastidious etiquette officer would be hard-pressed to find the slightest impropriety.

Draco was dressed at this moment as exquisitely as a porcelain doll, his flawless skin even whiter than usual. His cheeks were rosy, and his eyes sparkled with starlight-like brilliance.

His small hands, held by Lucius and Narcissa, were slightly sweaty, and his breathing was a little rapid. He had completely lost the composure and aloofness he displayed at school, reverting entirely to the appearance of a child.

But these reactions were normal. After all, in his heart, this trip to his uncle's factory was more of a symbolic significance than a formality, representing his uncle's approval.

You should know, in the entire wizarding world, how many people have visited that mysterious candy factory? Among the scant few who could be counted on two hands, how many were young wizards as old as him—probably only him!

Therefore, Draco could draw the final conclusion: Among his peers, I am the only young wizard recognized by my uncle! The only one in the entire British wizarding world, and even the world wizarding world!

!

Whenever he thought of this, the smile on Draco's face would become even brighter, and his already swan-like, proud posture would become even straighter.

This was probably a common ailment that all children could not escape. Even if you are smart and appear mature, at this special age, "chunibyo" (middle school syndrome) will quietly find you and leave you with beautiful memories that you will be ashamed to recall in the future…

Seemingly noticing the change in her son's emotions, Narcissa nodded slightly and glanced downwards.

Suddenly, she noticed something amiss, bent down, and whispered,

"Draco, where did you get the foundation??"

… … …

Lucius's mind was in a complete turmoil at this moment. Although on the surface he looked no different from usual, with calm eyes, tightly pursed thin lips, and a slightly raised chin, exuding the arrogance and aura unique to an old noble family from the inside out.

In reality, if Draco hadn't been so agitated and expectant that it disturbed his mind, he would have clearly felt that his father's palms were also faintly sweating.

"Ding-dong!"

!

Finally, as the pointer moved and steadily landed on the top "twelve", the chime symbolizing departure also rang immediately, echoing throughout the spacious mansion, and gradually fading away in repeated echoes.

"Alright, it's time."

Lucius's Adam's apple bobbed up and down, and then he spoke, as if speaking to Narcissa and Draco, but also as if speaking to himself.

After all, in the hearts of the other two people present, the meaning of this family dinner was different.

One thought it was "uncle's recognition of himself", and the other understood it as "brother's longing for his sister"…

Only Lucius knew that the real purpose of Charlie's banquet was to give the Malfoy family an opportunity to choose a side.

Voldemort, or Charlie Black.

At this gathering, Charlie blatantly placed this choice before Lucius.

Although that day in the car, Lucius was temporarily enraged by Voldemort's actions under the influence of alcohol and agreed to Charlie's invitation.

But after he returned home and calmed down, reason regained control of his brain, followed by immense fear and apprehension.

You must know, that is Voldemort!

The Dark Lord who once swept through the entire British wizarding world.

Perhaps for other wizards in the wizarding world, this name only represents the fear and dread from the depths of their hearts, turning into an abstract concept, vague and indescribable.

But as Voldemort's former right-hand man, someone who had served him for more than ten years, Lucius had an extremely clear understanding of his strength.

However, the more he understood, the more frightened he became. Even though he knew that Charlie Black was an undeniable genius, in the end, he was still too young… Lucius had doubts in his heart as to whether he could fight Voldemort in his prime to the death.

Not to mention those crazy Death Eaters under his command who worshiped him and regarded him as their faith… Just thinking about it would make one suffocate.

Even now, Lucius still firmly believed that if Voldemort hadn't been killed by the curse cast on Harry Potter due to carelessness, then the entire British wizarding world, and even the world, would definitely have fallen into his hands, and he would have built it into a paradise of pure-bloods as he imagined…

Just as Lucius's thoughts were complicated, like a pool of stagnant water, Draco tugged at his hand, startling him back to reality.

"Father, shouldn't we leave now?"

Draco looked at him, nervous and full of expectation, with an undisguised smile on his lips, and asked in a low voice.

For some reason, when he saw Draco's smiling face, the fear and anxiety that had been entangled in Lucius's heart in the previous second suddenly vanished.

"Hmm…"

After a brief silence of about two or three seconds, he held Draco's hand even tighter. A force then surged from the depths of his eyes.

This was something that the Malfoy family had never lacked: "family love."

"Let's go."

Lucius took a deep breath, and after saying that, he and Narcissa, together with Draco, strode into the fireplace.

Along with the Floo Powder in his hand, with a "poof!" it was scattered in it, igniting a raging flame, the three of them said in unison,

"Charlie Black's Candy Factory!"

In the next second, the flames rose, instantly engulfing the entire fireplace, and completely submerging the figures of the three people, sweeping them away and disappearing from the spot.

… … … … … … … … … … … … …

Just after they left, in the kitchen of the mansion, Dobby, still wearing that dirty pillowcase, walked into the front hall with his head drooping.

His gaze fell on the fireplace. Looking at the sparks mixed with furnace ash rising and flying, still not extinguished, he couldn't help but twitch his nose.

"Master has gone to Mr. Charlie Black's factory… leaving Dobby alone at home."

"Dobby also wants to go find Mr. Black… Perhaps Mr. Black can persuade Master to give Dobby his freedom?"

… … …

… …

In this way, in the large mansion, only Dobby was talking to himself.

However, together with the magnificent decorations and the warm and bright lights, it seemed so out of place.

82 Chinese Network