Harry Potter and the Candy Factory

“Professor Quirrell!”

After all the instructions were finished, Dumbledore called out to Professor Quirrell, who was about to leave in front of the Great Hall's door.

“Ah!”

Quirrell seemed to be startled, first exclaiming in surprise, then quickly turning his head to look at Dumbledore.

“Wha… … what is it? Dumbledore… Head, Headmaster.”

Quirrell subconsciously clasped his hands together in front of his chest, widened his eyes, and asked with a bit of a stutter.

He always seemed so shy and insecure, treating everyone with caution and extreme deference.

Even attending the opening ceremony in the Great Hall today, his clothes were no different, still wrapped in a thick turban, paired with an exaggerated cloak, shielding himself completely.

“Are you planning to return to your room later?”

Dumbledore asked.

“Yes… Yes, I was, was just planning to go back.”

Quirrell nodded hastily, then pointed in the direction outside the Great Hall.

“Could you take Charlie with you? His room is next door to Snape's.”

Hearing Dumbledore's words, Quirrell shifted his gaze back to Charlie.

Seeing Charlie also looking at him, that ingratiating and humble, kind smile subconsciously reappeared on his face.

His already hunched body leaned forward even more, making a bow-like gesture.

Charlie, in response, also leaned forward slightly to return the courtesy.

“Of course… I don't think it's any trouble at all.”

Quirrell nodded in agreement without much hesitation.

“That's wonderful.”

Dumbledore turned to look at Charlie again.

“Professor Quirrell is a very kind person; apart from being a bit weak, you can hardly find any faults in him.” He first praised Quirrell briefly, and then said,

“Then let's leave it at that… Let Professor Quirrell take you back, get a good night's sleep, and when you wake up tomorrow, come to my office, and we'll discuss other matters.”

After speaking, he sought Charlie's opinion.

“What do you think?”

“Of course, nothing could be better.”

Charlie nodded happily, and after saying "Goodbye" to Headmaster Dumbledore, he slowly walked around the seats, heading towards the door of the Great Hall and Professor Quirrell, who was standing there waiting.

“It's a pleasure to meet you, Professor Quirrell.”

Charlie took the initiative to extend a hand to Quirrell with a gentle smile.

“Oh! Oh! Of course, Mr. Black! It's my honor to meet you too!”

Professor Quirrell seemed somewhat overwhelmed by favor; his already instinctively forward-leaning waist bent even lower, and he extended both hands, tightly grasping Charlie's hand, shaking it vigorously a couple of times.

Charlie's smile remained unchanged, feeling the slight coolness emanating from Professor Quirrell's hands as they touched his, his eyes subtly shifting.

“Come, I, I'll take you there, please follow me.”

After shaking for a while, Quirrell released his hand, the eager smile on his face still present, and spoke to Charlie while his feet continued to move, walking out of the Great Hall.

Charlie didn't say anything more, nodding and following.

It was already past nine, almost ten o'clock at night, Quirrell in front, Charlie behind him.

The two had no further interaction after leaving the Great Hall.

Their footsteps were quiet, without sound, traversing between corridors, up and down floors, in a maze-like building, yet they strolled with ease, without any difficulty.

Charlie only focused on continuing to follow behind Quirrell, while his attention had already begun to casually survey the surrounding buildings and environment.

From every painting on the wall to every statue, and even every candlestick, everything perfectly overlapped with everything in Charlie's memory.

“M, Mr. Black, we're here!”

After some time, Quirrell stopped, standing in front of a closed wooden door.

Then he turned his head, smiling at Charlie, saying,

“Oh… Thank you,” Charlie said absently, pulling himself back from his memories, looking at the wooden door Quirrell was facing, and then looking at another, similarly sized room next to the wooden door.

“So, Severus lives here?”

“Yes.” Quirrell nodded. “This is Professor Snape's residence.”

“Alright, thank you for your trouble.”

Charlie walked towards the door, Quirrell stepped aside, standing next to Charlie, still shaking his head humbly as he had in the Great Hall.

“Don't mention it, Mr. Black, it was no trouble at all.”

Charlie placed his hand on the wooden door and pushed it open gently.

Inside was an ordinary small bed, plus a desk, a coat rack, and a bookshelf.

But everything was very clean, it seemed that Dumbledore had specifically instructed the house-elves to clean it before Charlie's arrival.

“Well, if that's the case, I'll go back first.”

Quirrell didn't linger, said goodbye to Charlie, and turned to leave.

However, just as he turned his head, before he could take a step, suddenly, Charlie behind him spoke again unexpectedly.

“By the way, Professor Quirrell.”

Charlie stood at the door, not stepping inside immediately, but thoughtfully raising the hand that Quirrell had just held, looking at it from side to side.

“Wh, what?” Quirrell's voice carried a hint of surprise and astonishment, but he quickly turned his head back, looking at Charlie with a somewhat puzzled expression.

“How is your master doing now?”

“My… master?” Quirrell looked at him in confusion, then his face lit up.

“Are you talking about Headmaster Dumbledore?”

“No…”

Charlie turned his head, looking at him again.

Only this time, the expression on his face was devoid of any smile.

In those eyes, there was an indifference to the extreme cold, as if his gaze was a sharp sword, capable of directly piercing Quirrell's heart, proclaiming the arrival of death.

Charlie's mouth slowly opened, enunciating each word with extreme clarity.

“I'm talking about Tom… Tom Marvolo Riddle.”

After saying this name, Charlie suddenly smiled again.

He looked at Quirrell, whose pupils had shrunk to pinpricks, his mouth agape, cold sweat dripping from his forehead.

The movement of his mouth hadn't stopped, although no sound came out afterward, the shape of his mouth clearly spelled out the most terrifying name in the entire magical world.

“I don't know where you got such great confidence.”

Charlie raised the hand that had just shaken with Quirrell.

Under Quirrell's gaze, flames rose on his hand, slowly enveloping it and burning.

A few wisps of faint black smoke were released, drifting upwards, disappearing without a trace in mid-air.

“Even your master didn't have the ability to scheme against me… What makes you think you can do it?”