"This..." Charlie murmured, breaking off another piece of Moonlight Chocolate.
"Does it offer some sort of mental boost? The moon has always held a pivotal role in mysticism. Wait, no, everything I knew before was just the 'pseudo-mysticism' of the Muggle world. I shouldn't jump to conclusions."
But even without attaching any lofty, esoteric lunar concepts to it, the mental refreshment provided by this Moonlight Chocolate was undeniable. It seemed he still had a lot to learn about the art of chocolate-making and all sorts of fascinating magical elements.
Besides, Hogwarts should have plenty of Wonder Dust floating around, right? Judging by his current situation, the meager amount he had hoarded so far was nowhere near enough.
Popping the piece of Moonlight Chocolate into his mouth, he carefully savored the warm current spreading through his mind. A moment later, he opened his eyes and brought out the stash of sweets he had purchased earlier today.
He had already fiddled with his wand and tried his first few spells. Now, only the most important task remained: studying the famous confections of the wizarding world.
Taking a sip of water to cleanse his palate of the lingering cocoa, he peered into the open bag of sweets with the critical, unforgiving eye of a professional food critic.
First up, the Chocolate Frog.
According to Charlie's rather basic theoretical deductions, this piece of chocolate probably just had some sort of rudimentary Transfiguration charm slapped onto it.
The packaging was a pentagonal box with a green background, bordered by intricate geometric patterns. To put it nicely, it had an ancient, ethnic charm. To put it bluntly, it was incredibly tacky. Any ordinary sweet shop in London had better packaging than this.
He gave the box a little shake. No sound, no movement. It seemed the frog inside was still a solid, inanimate lump.
Opening the lid with careful precision, a dark brown frog was revealed. As if waking from a deep slumber, the solid chocolate stiffly jerked to life. It looked up at Charlie, taking a good few seconds to boot up before becoming fully animated.
Just as Charlie leaned in to observe, it suddenly sprang into the air.
Smack!
A hand snatched it right out of the sky.
"Looks like that initial stiffness is just a built-in buffer to give kids a chance to react," Charlie mused. Gripping the frog by its hind legs, he casually bit off its upper half.
The sickly-sweet chocolate was very soft, melting instantly upon hitting his tongue, yet it left a cloying, grainy texture behind. Cheap chocolate syrup mixed with sugar water? Was this a necessary compromise for the spellwork, or were they just too stingy to use the good stuff?!
The frog had no internal organs, just solid chocolate all the way through. With half its body missing, the animation charm rapidly faded. Charlie tossed the rest into his mouth, washed it down with another sip of water, and shook his head.
Honestly, he was quite disappointed.
As a fellow industry professional, maybe he had no right to judge. But as a discerning eater, he simply couldn't fathom why this thing was so universally beloved.
"Subpar," he muttered.
Next, he gave Drooble's Best Blowing Gum a try. The initial chew was a strenuous workout for his jaw, feeling exactly like gnawing on a rubber eraser. However, once it softened, the texture was quite nice, boasting excellent elasticity. The bluebell-colored bubbles he blew grew as large as a human head and absolutely refused to pop. According to the product description, these bubbles could be left around the house like permanent balloons, immune to bursting for days.
Naturally, Charlie did no such thing.
Ice Mice, Blood-Flavored Lollipops, Caramel Cobwebs... they were all candies with clever little magical gimmicks. But they fell far short of actually amazing him.
After meticulously logging the pros and cons of each sweet into his notebook, he went back to melting chocolate, prepping his stock for tomorrow's sales.
The next day, right around noon, Charlie straightened his coat in front of a cracked full-length mirror in the attic. He angled his right hand toward the floor, pointing directly at his transfigured rabbit.
"Alice!" he called out.
The rabbit hopped, landing squarely on his outstretched palm. With a swift upward toss, the rabbit morphed in mid-air into a hat. With an elegant flick of his wrist, Charlie caught the hat and placed it squarely onto his head.
"Not bad at all. Very magical." Charlie flashed a satisfied grin.
Adjusting what used to be a heavily patched newsboy cap, he stepped out of his home.
Leaving Rabbit Street behind, Charlie was enjoying a quiet stroll down the pavement. Suddenly, a hand shot out from a narrow alleyway and grabbed his arm.
"Over here!" the owner of the hand hissed nervously.
Charlie allowed himself to be pulled into the shadows. His ambusher poked his head back out, scanning the street left and right with eyes full of intense paranoia.
"Bloody hell, Kevin, do you have to do this every single time?" Charlie sighed, giving the boy in front of him a look of utter exasperation.
The boy named Kevin looked barely ten years old, carrying a bit of baby fat on his cheeks. He did one last security sweep of the area before finally looking at Charlie.
"You don't understand, mate. If my mum finds out I spent a whole pound on chocolate again, she'll actually murder me."
"Can't exactly blame your mum, can you?" Charlie offered sympathetically.
"Oh, right, let's not blame my mum. Let's just blame your stash for being too bloody brilliant, yeah?"
Charlie shook his head. "Please stop talking like I'm dealing illicit contraband in a back alley. Watch a little less of 'The Godfather' and a little more Disney, alright?"
Kevin snickered. "Just a joke! Cash in hand, goods in hand."
Charlie gave his sleeve a little shake, producing a neatly wrapped chocolate, and handed it over. Kevin shoved a crumpled pound note into Charlie's hand, frantically tearing off the wrapper to pop the chocolate into his mouth.
[Wonder Dust from Kevin Mockridge: +0.1]
Kids had the purest, most primal craving for sweetness, though it seemed Kevin's reactions to the candy weren't quite as intense as they used to be. Charlie still remembered when he first met the chubby boy. Back then, a single Sunlight Chocolate could harvest a massive 0.5 units of Wonder Dust.
"Mmm, there's a really refreshing feeling to it. Did you add mint?" Kevin asked, looking up brightly.
"Not mint. Mint would leave your throat feeling frozen. This is something much better. But enough about the recipe, what's the verdict on the new product?"
"Oh, it's brilliant. And it's... really weird, actually. I barely slept last night because I was up secretly reading comic books, but after eating this, I feel totally awake."
"Glad you like it," Charlie nodded, starting to walk out of the alley.
"Also, you literally can't imagine how good this comic is. It's genuine DC stuff, want to read it? I'll let you borrow it for just one more chocolate," Kevin rambled, trailing right behind Charlie onto the main street.
"I'm good, thanks," Charlie replied.
The two walked together for a short while, soon arriving at the imposing stone structure of Chester Cathedral. Charlie's destination wasn't the cathedral itself, but the public cemetery situated right next to it.
Seeing this, Kevin knew better than to intrude. He waved goodbye and scurried off.
Stepping into the quiet grounds of the cemetery, Charlie soon found his way to a rough, terribly simple tombstone.
Weston Wonka.
That was the only line carved into the weathered stone.
Charlie gently took off his patched newsboy cap and hung it on the corner of the grave. The tombstone standing before him belonged to his older brother.
Yes, Charlie was an orphan. But an orphan didn't just magically grow up on their own. They needed food, they needed water, and they needed basic protection during their most vulnerable infant years. And the person who provided all of that was the boy who had found him in the first place, Weston Wonka.
Of course, he was dead now. Taken by illness.
Standing perfectly still in the quiet breeze, Charlie finally let out a long, slow breath.
He didn't utter a single word, yet it felt as if everything that needed to be said had already been spoken. Giving the stone a faint, respectful nod, he turned around and walked away.