Harry Potter: Charlie and the Candy Factory

Chapter 24 Milk

"Good morning, father."

"Good morning, mother."

"Good morning, uncle."

Not long after, as Charlie's coffee gradually ran out, Draco yawned and looked like he had just woken up, and walked out of his room near the stairs.

On the way, he didn't forget to say hello to the three people below him. He looked like a very polite child.

"Come down, I'll heat up the milk for you."

Narcissa said, walking back to the kitchen to look at the milk that was warmed for Draco.

Draco was stunned for a moment after hearing his mother's words, and then he couldn't help but frowned, looking towards the kitchen along Narcissa's leaving back.

"Mother!?"

There was a hint of disbelief in his tone.

"Why are you in the kitchen? Where is Dobby? That damn..."

However, he had just received half of what he said, and before he could finish it, Lucius, who had finished drinking his coffee, suddenly shook the newspaper in his hand and coughed twice.

Draco subconsciously turned his head to look at him, and saw his father staring at him and giving him a fierce look.

Suddenly, Draco shuddered. Although he didn't know what he had just done wrong, his mouth had already formed a training reflex, and the sound of "swish" suddenly stopped and he closed it firmly.

In this regard, Charlie still kept smiling, as if he hadn't heard anything.

He squinted his eyes and looked at the remaining dregs at the bottom of the coffee cup. From time to time, he stretched out his hand and turned the cup slightly, looking at the shapes of the black dregs at all angles.

This is very similar to the divination method I learned when I was at Hogwarts.

It's just that at that time they used tea grounds after drinking black tea, but now he uses...coffee bean grounds? Charlie doesn't know.

In fact, he also understood that in the eyes of most wizards, house elves just represented slaves.

This awareness was something that was formed in the mind centuries ago.

Just like humans are to dogs... wizards are to house elves.

Once upon a time, house elves were not called by this name.

They are also an independent race, different from humans, but no different from other magical races.

They live in the north of England and have their own independent habitat in the jungle.

Everything probably stems from a war that has long been forgotten in some ancient book.

Humans won and gained the ability to punish house elves.

Through generations of captivity and enslavement, their habits were completely eradicated, their way of survival was changed, and the first principle of serving wizards was deeply implanted in their minds.

Nowadays, in this wizarding world where the rule that house elves are slaves has become a consensus, if you are really hostile and angry towards all families with house elves, they will only think that you are crazy.

Not to mention, those house elves will probably hate you even more than their masters, thinking that you are an out-and-out devil...

Therefore, truly wanting to liberate the house elves is a difficult and difficult matter. It cannot be rushed, but must wait for a specific opportunity in the future.

………………

Looking at Charlie, whose expression remained unchanged, Lucius breathed a sigh of relief again.

He raised his head again and looked at Draco who was stunned on the stairs, neither advancing nor retreating, and said in a deep voice.

"What are you still doing standing here?"

As soon as these words came out, Draco felt like he was being amnesty, nodded, trotted down the stairs and sat next to Charlie.

"Good morning, Draco."

Charlie's eyes then moved away from the coffee grounds that looked like an umbrella and an Australian caped lizard, and then turned to Draco next to him.

He stretched out his hand, rubbed Draco's somewhat disheveled hair, and greeted with a smile.

Little Draco's hair was long and silky, inherited from his father.

But Charlie is not sure...if he really wears hair gel all the time and combs his hair into a meticulous back like he did in school, will he become a Mediterranean when he grows up?

You know...this is England.

Thinking of this, Charlie began to hesitate, maybe he should find a time to tell Draco.

Looking at Draco again, he was even more confused at this moment.

Looking at Charlie who was in a trance while touching his hair, he couldn't help but frown.

I was thinking secretly, it was getting weirder and weirder...

In the past two days, first his father's behavior shocked him last night, and then his mother walked into the kitchen in person.

But now, the uncle who had just arrived was looking at his hair in a daze.

It's so strange... This is so strange.

Fortunately, Draco's thoughts did not last long, because soon, Narcissa returned to the long table with warm milk.

"Come…"

The steaming milk pot and cup floated in the air under Narcissa's guidance, and the entire hall was filled with the aroma of hot milk.

Only Draco's eyelids couldn't help but tremble.

Because of his height, he could see the bottom of the milk pot from the angle he was sitting at.

The bottom of the pot was already pitch black... Although Draco didn't know how it became like this, the strong sixth sense he inherited from his father told him.

It's best not to drink...

"Ahem..." Draco coughed twice and smiled stiffly at his mother.

"Actually...I'm not very..."

Before he finished speaking, he stopped again.

Narcissa looked at him. Although she was still smiling, her narrowed eyes made him feel the oppression that was as familiar as Lucius's.

Immediately, his conversation changed.

"No, not very sober...I guess after drinking a glass of milk, I will feel much better."

The oppressive feeling disappeared... Narcissa nodded with satisfaction.

"Great, then drink more."

As he spoke, the milk in the milk pot was poured into the cup.

However, Draco could clearly see some black residue in the milk.

Charlie saw it too... He took his hand away from Draco's head and patted him on the back.