Harry Potter and the Candy Factory

“Expecto!

! (Expecto Patronum!)

! ”

In the deep, damp, and silent prison corridor, a dazzling light erupted from a wand, echoing with a sudden shout.

The light, fueled by Google search reading, transformed into a lifelike lion, whose roar instantly scattered the lurking figures in the shadows.

Seeing the Dementors fleeing in terrified wails, Scrimgeour, who had been about to act, raised an eyebrow.

He nonchalantly returned his half-drawn wand to his pocket, then quipped with a touch of self-deprecation,

“Mr. Black’s flair is as impressive as ever… Looks like my journey will be a lot easier.”

Charlie first gently dispersed the few wisps of light lingering at the tip of his wand, then smiled and shook his head.

“Haven’t used the Patronus Charm in a long time; my technique has gotten quite rusty.”

With that, he turned to look at the emaciated prisoner in the cell beside him, leaning against the wall with a vacant, lifeless gaze.

Since he had entered, he had seen too many people like this.

Each was so utterly hopeless, practically a corpse; even when Charlie and Scrimgeour passed by, they might only glance up before resuming their downward gaze, or staring at the pitted stone wall across the cell, as if contemplating their short lives, or simply wasting away the long hours in pure despair.

Horrifying… That was Charlie’s first thought upon entering this place.

Compared to physical torment, this kind of mental crushing was far more terrifying, especially since the people imprisoned here were wizards, whose minds were more sensitive than Muggles…

The so-called guards, the Dementors, were just like their creator, Axtus, engaging in endless torment and destruction, using their victims’ happiness as sustenance, until the prisoners withered and died in agony, finding true release only in death.

In fact, Charlie scorned the Ministry of Magic’s actions…

Putting aside the question of whether such punishment was humane, the pitiful often have hateful aspects.

Few of the wizards imprisoned here hadn’t committed unforgivable crimes outside.

The number of Muggles killed by them was countless… Only a few fools, like his unfortunate cousin, would think of using such self-torture to gain psychological comfort.

Simply choosing to compromise with these mindless, chaotic creatures was undoubtedly ridiculous.

When these insatiable creatures truly turned against them in the future, the fools sitting in the upper echelons of the Ministry of Magic would truly wake up and realize that too much leniency only breeds ever-expanding desires.

Thinking of this, Charlie couldn’t help but think of the house-elves in his factory… On closer inspection, it was quite ironic.

Clearly, whether in intelligence or strength, house-elves far surpassed Dementors, yet wizards were willing to compromise with Dementors, while turning around and enslaving house-elves without hesitation.

They never worried that one day, one of these unique beings might awaken self-awareness and no longer be controlled by wizards, and what kind of terrifying situation would ensue…

“How much further until we reach where my sister and cousin are being held?”

Regaining his scattered thoughts, Charlie asked Scrimgeour, who hadn’t noticed anything amiss, in a gentle voice.

“Probably a bit deeper…,”

Scrimgeour paused, then replied,

“Those Death Eaters are all heavily guarded criminals.

Especially Sirius Black and Bellatrix Lestrange, elites under the Dark Lord; they are the highest priority.

So their confinement is stricter than others.”

“Mm.”

Charlie understood, nodding without saying anything more, and continued forward with Scrimgeour.

Perhaps because Charlie’s Patronus Charm was too shocking, their journey from then on was extremely smooth.

Even when they encountered Dementors, the creatures would wisely hide far away, not daring to approach, let alone offend them.

It seemed that, within their chaotic minds, they at least retained the instinct to seek good fortune and avoid disaster, allowing them to understand what was food and what was not.

And so, the two quickly passed through corridor after corridor of silence, past locked iron gates, finally arriving at the area where the heavily guarded criminals were held.

… … … … … … … … … … … … …

Compared to the deathly silence of the outer layers, this place was noticeably more “lively”… Any one of the wizards imprisoned here for decades had a mental fortitude far exceeding ordinary people.

Although they had become insane, at the very least, they still possessed the ability to communicate and the awareness to think.

“Hehehe… hehehe… Look… someone’s here again!”

“Who?! Is it a person?!”

“Gahahaha!

! Egg pudding!

! Gahahaha… … …”

“Hail Voldemort!

! Hail the Dark Lord!

!”

“Newcomer!

How many Muggles have you killed?”

… … …

… … …

As the two walked into this lightless area, these creatures, who hadn’t seen living people in a long time, suddenly became as if they had been injected with chicken blood, one by one jumping up from the ground, pressing against the iron bars, reaching their hands outward with all their might, muttering insane and incoherent words, trying to grab the two’s clothes.

Scrimgeour had never been polite to these former enemies.

He drew his wand, aimed at the nearest prisoner, and was just about to kill the chicken to scare the monkeys and make them quiet when Charlie gently raised his hand, stopping Scrimgeour from casting the spell.

Just as Scrimgeour frowned slightly, looking at Charlie in confusion, he spoke.

“Long time no see, my dear Voldemort’s dogs… Do you still remember me? Your old friend, Charlie Black, has come to see you.”

As soon as these words were spoken, it was as if some switch buried deep within their chaotic memories had been triggered, and the originally clamoring voices suddenly stopped, becoming eerily quiet.

The prisoner who had just been reaching out to the two hurriedly shrank back into the corner of the cell, looking at the blurry figure in the darkness with terror… as if seeing something even more terrifying than a Dementor.

(