Harry Potter and the Candy Factory

The Christmas dinner felt like a fleeting carnival. Though brilliant, it was merely a small ripple on the mostly smooth, straight line of life. ♚ ♞     ♦ ♦

The next morning, the goose-feather snow that had been falling the previous night had stopped at some point, coating the factory in a layer of silver. The dark clouds dispersed, and the sun rose in the east, the sunlight just right.

Basking in the sun's warmth from beyond the French windows, Charlie yawned, casually propping his legs up as he leaned back in his chair, holding Voldemort's notes in his hand, his gaze lazy as he studied the words.

"Good morning, Master Charlie!"

Charlie didn't have to wait long. Soon, Russell's voice arrived as reliably as it did every morning, coming from beyond the door.

"I've brought today's 'Daily Prophet,' along with coffee and biscuits..."

The familiar voice drew his attention back from the seemingly enchanted words.

"Come in,"

Charlie said, lifting his head and using his fingers to subtly tuck the notebook away into his personal space.

After the door opened, Russell entered, holding a tray and looking energetic.

He walked slowly to the long desk, tiptoed to place Charlie's breakfast down, and then retrieved the freshly delivered newspaper from behind his back, still smelling of ink, and handed it to him. ♦ ♦     ♦ ♦

"I thought Master would sleep in a bit... After all, there was so much to do yesterday. Master Charlie must be tired."

Stepping back a few paces, Russell stood in the center of the office, his hands neatly folded in front of him, smiling as he spoke.

[Seriously, I've been using this app to read and catch up on books recently. It allows switching between sources, has multiple voice options for reading aloud, and is available on both Android and Apple devices.]

As if to confirm Russell's words, a long yawn escaped Charlie's mouth, carrying a hint of fatigue.

But even so, Charlie simply shook his head.

"Ah, I wish I could sleep in a bit..."

He said, his hands busy unfolding the newspaper and laying it flat on the desk before reaching for the steaming cup of coffee.

"But I can't help it. I'm used to it."

The hot coffee rippled as the cup tilted, slowly entering Charlie's mouth. Feeling the rich, bitter flavor dancing on his taste buds, his weary spirit finally perked up, and his eyes cleared as usual.

"I'll take a nap at noon... After lunch."

With that, he stopped looking at Russell and focused on the 'Daily Prophet' in front of him, savoring the coffee's lingering aroma as he carefully read the latest news and information. ඏ ♦     ♦ ♦

As Charlie expected.

When he saw the headline at the top of the 'Daily Prophet,' a smile immediately tugged at the corner of his lips.

The front page headline was written in particularly eye-catching font and exaggerated language: "Scent-of-Wind Violet Sweets—A Christmas Gift from Charlie Blacke to the Entire Wizarding World!!!"

Below the headline, nearly half of the front page was devoted to a sweeping description of the unprecedented reaction in the British magical world since the candy's release yesterday. The article didn't shy away from pointing out that the candy provided an indescribable sense of lightness, allowing one's thoughts and spirit to surpass their previous limits in an instant. Regarding this terrifying effect, comparable to a magical potion, the author even used the phrase "a peerless masterpiece that would make Merlin himself lower his eyes in respect," thoroughly praising Charlie Blacke and his new candy to the heavens.

Charlie carefully read the article word by word, pausing to repeatedly admire the "well-written" parts. He even nodded slightly to show his agreement.

After reading the entire article, he felt refreshed and invigorated by the 360-degree, no-dead-angle flattery.

Charlie enjoyed hearing such praise. Even as a transmigrator with a far greater understanding than this era, he saw through the article's nature as a commercial "soft article" at first glance. But that didn't stop him from marveling at the author's excellent writing. Even Russell, who worshiped him with twelvefold admiration, would probably have to admit defeat upon seeing this article.

You should know that while such soft articles had become commonplace in the 21st century, they were undoubtedly a dimension-reducing strike when placed in a 20th-century newspaper.

Especially for wizards who hadn't been bombarded with information, this stuff was simply amazing.

More importantly, an article like this, appearing on the front page with such unrestrained and enthusiastic praise, would definitely not be cheap... Based on Charlie's previous collaborations with the 'Daily Prophet,' it would cost at least a thousand Galleons. And if he remembered correctly, he didn't seem to have ordered any similar publicity measures...

Just as Charlie was feeling a bit puzzled, his gaze moved down and caught the author's name at the end of the article.

"Barnabas Cuffe..."

Charlie swallowed a mouthful of coffee. He thoughtfully repeated the name, and soon, the corresponding figure appeared in his mind: the editor he had met in Fudge's office that day.

Thinking of the sincerity he had shown during their interaction that day, and his respectful attitude, a meaningful look appeared on Charlie's face.

"Looks like... this is a Christmas gift from a new friend?"

With that, he finished the remaining coffee in the cup in one gulp.

After letting out a satisfied breath, he looked up at Russell, who had been quietly waiting for him to finish his meal, and instructed:

"Help me write a letter later..."

"Of course, Master Charlie. Who should I write it to?"

"Barnabas Cuffe, the editor of the 'Daily Prophet.' Write, um..."

After finishing the coffee, Charlie picked up a biscuit that he hadn't touched yet. After taking a light bite, he pondered for a moment and said:

"Thank Mr. Cuffe for the Christmas gift. I like it very much."

He paused again, tapping his finger on the newspaper, caressing the words written with magic-infused ink, and continued:

"If you have time, we can meet and chat."

"Is that all, Master Charlie?"

Seeing that Charlie wasn't saying anything else, Russell, who had been diligently taking notes, looked up and asked.

"That's all I want to say. You can polish the rest for me."

Charlie buried his head again, seemingly not taking the matter too seriously. With that, he continued to enjoy his breakfast.