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SIYE Time:12:38 on 29th March 2024
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Harry and the Chocolate Factory
By DukeBrymin

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Category: Alternate Universe
Characters:None
Genres: Romance
Warnings: None
Rating: PG
Reviews: 7
Summary: Harry finds a Golden Ticket, which leads to more wonders than he could have imagined.
Hitcount: Story Total: 13353; Chapter Total: 2402





Author's Notes:
I must thank my betas, rosiekatriona, and sandyrah, without whom this story wouldn't be nearly as polished.




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Harry and the Chocolate Factory, Chapter 2, The Candy Store
Disclaimer: The Harry Potter Universe belongs to JKRowling. The Willy Wonka Universe belongs to Roald Dahl.
-----
It was when they arrived at the shop that the old man, Charlie, did something rather strange. He asked Harry to wait outside for a second while he talked to the owner. Harry couldn’t figure out why this was, but didn’t have a strong argument not to, so agreed, albeit reluctantly, since he knew he didn’t have a lot of time that he could safely spend away from his house.

But Harry didn’t have to wait very long until Charlie appeared again, beckoning him inside.

“Harry, I took the liberty of explaining to Mr. Fordham what you told me about the money you found. I know that you were going to do it yourself, but wanted to make sure that he took you seriously, and sometimes these things are easier to understand if an adult explains them.”

Mr. Fordham could be seen, standing behind the counter, nodding his head, although he also had a somewhat surprised look in his eyes, which combined to make him look like something amazingly wonderful had happened, but not to him personally.

Harry felt strangely pleased by Charlie’s actions. Upon hearing Charlie’s explanation, he had immediately felt a rush of anger that someone had dared talk about him behind his back and without his permission. But as Charlie continued explaining, Harry felt his anger turn into happiness. As far as he could remember, no-one had ever taken thought for his well-being and tried to make things easier for him. This was a new and, therefore, somewhat uncomfortable situation, but Harry resolved to try to make the best of it.

“Thank you sir, that was very kind of you,” Harry managed to get out through his surprise.

“Now, now, Harry, I certainly think we’ve gotten past the stage where you need to be calling me sir, don’t you? I would prefer it if you would call me Charlie, if you think you can manage.” All this was said with a twinkle in Charlie’s eyes, as if he really would be happier being referred to in such a familiar manner.

"Oh no, sir, I don't think I could do that. If my uncle or aunt found out, I'd be in trouble." Harry said all this in a rush, hoping that Charlie wouldn't take offense and suddenly realize that he didn't need to spend any more time or energy on someone as freakish as Harry.

But Charlie surprised Harry by going down on one knee, and smiling at him. "Harry, I certainly can understand that. Perhaps in the future, if we have the opportunity to see one another again, you'll feel more comfortable calling me by my name. In the meantime, why don't you talk to Mr. Fordham about that money? I need to be heading on to my home, but before I do, are you going to be able to find your way home from here?"

Harry indicated that he knew where he was--after all, he wasn't too far away from Magnolia Crescent, and from there he knew the way home, being intimately familiar with all the alleyways and paths to get past any lurking bullies and their friends.

------

Mr. Fordham turned out to be a rather genial character, as one usually is when allowed to spend a lifetime helping children be happy. He had run Bon-Bons 'n' Things ever since he had taken it over from his father, and had always enjoyed his work. Legend had been passed down from his father that it was in that very shop that Charlie Bucket had bought the Wonka bar that held his Golden Ticket. But that was a story passed on by whispers and nods, since it wasn't exactly something that needed to be on the front page of the newspaper. The Fordhams always maintained that the Bucket Scandal had been terribly overblown, and that it really wasn't as much a "scandal" as a "mystery". But they were rather in the minority, so they kept somewhat quieter about this possible link than they would have ordinarily.

All this Harry found out in the first two minutes of conversation with the proprietor, for he was a very friendly man, as has been intimated, as well as talkative, and seemed to look upon Harry as his new-found best friend. Harry found himself somewhat breathless in sympathy with the candy man, even though he hadn't really had to do any talking himself. Eventually he was able to interject his question about the money that he had found.

At this point Harry was treated to a couple of minutes of praise for being so honest and upstanding, then another minute or two of discussion (rather one-sided) about how nice and new the banknote was and why someone would have just left it where it had fallen, and then the conversation stopped.

Belatedly, Harry realized that he had been asked a question. Thinking back, he realized that he didn't really have any idea what Mr. Fordham had asked. After a repeat of the question, which involved what Harry planned on doing with the money, which was quite evidently his, since he had found it, he found himself confronted with a conundrum. Having never had access to money before, he wasn't quite sure what he should do. He knew that money was very important--hearing his uncle complain daily about their supposed lack of it had drilled that into his consciousness. He knew, of course, that he himself cost an incredible amount to clothe and feed, although he wasn't exactly sure why that was, since he had never received new clothes of his own, and since Dudley always had an average of six times the amount of food that was given to Harry at the table. But his aunt and uncle had been complaining about Harry since the first day they had him in their home, so he figured they probably knew better than he did himself.

"Perhaps I should buy some food for myself to eat, so Uncle Vernon doesn't have to spend so much on me." Harry hadn't realized he had said this out loud, and was rather puzzled at the brief look of anger on the previously-jovial Mr. Fordham's face. He was slightly scared by that quick transformation, but the look was replaced so quickly by the normal smile that he decided not to worry about it.

At this point, Mr. Fordham decided that he should probably step in, as events didn't seem to be playing out as would have normally been expected. Given a genuine windfall of cash, and close proximity to a candy store, most young boys, and girls too for that matter, would be only too deliriously happy to spend it all in said store. Obviously, though, Harry wasn't most young boys.

"Well young Harry, as I mentioned before, I think it's rather impressive that you wanted to find the owner and give the money back to them. I think you deserve a reward for that." Mr. Fordham was particularly pleased with himself for having come up with an alternate method to carry out his assigned part of the plan. But, he hadn't counted on Harry's native honesty and integrity.

"Oh no, sir, I could never accept a reward for just trying to do what's right. After all, I already have the money, why would I need anything else?" Harry, by this point, was getting genuinely worried about making it back to the house before his uncle, and was starting to think about just bidding the proprietor goodbye, and walking out. Although, having been berated through much of his life for his supposed bad manners, he couldn't quite bring himself to do so.

Mr. Fordham was stumped. He knew that his actions were vital to the whole plot, although he wasn't sure why, and was just about frantic with worry that he'd mess up somehow. In his panic, though, he accidentally brushed too close to the candy counter, and heard a small 'thwack' as something fell to the ground. He bent down to pick up the fallen object, and was lucky he did so, as that was when he had The Idea. The Idea was so simple really; he was surprised he hadn't thought of it before. Rising back up with the fallen item in hand, he put a disgruntled look on his face, and let out a deep sigh.

"Is there something wrong, sir?" asked Harry. He was rather worried that he might have done something to upset the nice candy-store man. He didn't think he had, but long experience had taught him that he wasn't a good judge of what might upset some people.

Mr. Fordham immediately noticed the look of trepidation on Harry's young face, and hastened to reassure him. "No, no! No, nothing's wrong--I just accidentally knocked this candy bar on the floor, and now I won't be able to sell it. I hate having to throw candy away, especially when there's nothing wrong with it except for a bit of dust. But that's what the law says."

Harry, at this point, got a very puzzled look on his face. "Mr. Fordham, please forgive me for asking, but why wouldn't you be able to sell it? A little dirt on food doesn't mean you can't eat it. If I were that picky---" Here Harry realized that he probably shouldn't continue his sentence. While what he had been about to say was strictly true, it most likely fell under the category of "Things Freaks Don't Need to Bother Other People About", which category was surprisingly vast.

That look crossed Mr. Fordham's face again--the one that he had seen before, of barely-suppressed anger. Harry happened to be looking down at his shoes at the time, embarrassed about what he had almost said, but he did catch some mumbled phrases emanating from the candy man.

"If I ever.... ruddy cows... for shame... can't imagine... just a boy..."

Whatever had made Mr. Fordham so angry seemed to be something other than Harry, so he looked up again and asked if there were something he could do to help.

"Well, seeing as how I can't sell this candy bar any more, and you're here and I hate to waste a perfectly good Wonka's Almost-As-Good-As-A-Real Chocolate Frog, why don't you go ahead and take it? It's a rather new invention from Wonka, and they say that they're trying to make a version that really moves like a frog."

Harry wasn't sure what to think about this previously-unexperienced generosity. He thought about it, and compared it with past experiences. There had been times when Dudley had offered him something, only to snatch it away again, or worse, give it to him then tell his father that Harry had stolen it. But he knew that the kindly man wasn't Dudley, and hadn't acted in any way like his oafish cousin. Coming to the conclusion that he could probably run away if necessary, and wouldn't ever have to see the man again if it came to that, he accepted the candy.

Curiously, Mr. Fordham breathed a huge sigh, almost as if he were exceedingly relieved that he'd been able to give the chocolate to Harry. Harry filed this away as just another strange thing that adults do, and put the chocolate in his pocket.

"Aren't you going to open it?" Mr. Fordham was very anxious about the answer to this question. He wasn't exactly sure what would happen when Harry did, but since it played such a vital part in the plan, it must be something special.

"Oh no, sir, I really must be going. Thank you for all you've done, and I'd love to stay and visit some more, but I have to get home before my uncle notices that I'm not there. Good-bye!" And with this, Harry was off, running as hard as he could towards his house.

-----

Thankfully, Harry made it to #4 Privet Drive before Uncle Vernon arrived, and was able to slip into his cupboard unnoticed by Aunt Petunia or Dudley. Once there, he pulled out the Wonka's Almost-As-Good-As-A-Real Chocolate Frog and hid it back in the smallest part of the cupboard, where he kept all the treasures that he didn't want the Dursleys to know about. After ensuring that no-one would be able to see the wrapper even if they were to put their head inside the door, he exited and started working on his chores.

Later that evening, after clearing the table, washing the dishes, mopping the floor, and spending his allotted two minutes in the bathroom, Harry retired to his cupboard, anxious to examine, and perhaps open the wrapper of his Wonka's Almost-As-Good-As-A-Real Chocolate Frog and see what he'd been given. He'd never heard of this type of sweet before, which was rather strange as Dudley had made it a point to parade all his sweets and candies and chocolates and cakes and biscuits and lollipops and other tooth-rotting and fattening puddings in front of Harry, and tell him in excruciating detail how delicious they were. Harry supposed that Mr. Fordham's explanation of it being a 'rather new invention' was accurate, and put the matter aside. Slowly, silently, he reached for the candy, and pulled it towards him where he could see better what the wrapper looked like. It was garishly striped in turquoise and maroon, two colors that reminded him more of his schoolteacher's hair and Uncle Vernon's face than anything else. Of course, Harry realized, they hadn't really asked his opinion as to the packaging, although if asked, he certainly would have been willing to suggest a more, shall we say, subdued color scheme, perhaps one that suggested a frog, or chocolate, or anything non-violent.

The writing on the wrapper, what he could make out through the eye-jarring decoration, informed him that this was, in fact, a Wonka's Almost-As-Good-As-A-Real Chocolate Frog, apparently with "Real-Life-Like Eyes, and Webbed Feet!" But what really caught his attention was the assertion that this Frog, although being formed exclusively from chocolate, had "Genuine Frog-Like Croaking Noise!" Harry had never heard of a sweet making noise before, except for the Toot-Sweets that Dudley had once bought, on the mistaken assumption that they made the consumer pass gas, an assumption that provided for brisk sales, but many disappointed young customers. But, he supposed, he certainly wasn't up-to-date on advances in candy-making science, and for all he knew, they could make one that jumped as well as made croaking sounds when squeezed.

Having never had chocolate, much less a whole chocolate bar to himself, he was a little bit concerned as to the best way to open the package. Would he get in trouble for ripping the paper? Was there a specific end that he needed to open first? What he really needed, he realized, was opening instructions. Once again, if he ever had the opportunity to put forth an opinion about packaging, he would suggest that they maybe put a little diagram at one end showing how and where to open the wrapper.

Eventually deciding that he probably wouldn't get into trouble no matter how he opened the paper, he chose an end, and very carefully tore it a little bit. After waiting a decent interval, on the off chance that one of the Dursleys might have heard, or the Chocolate-Opening Police would be alerted, he finished tearing off the end. Looking inside, he saw a deep brown leg, which he supposed looked kind of like a frog's leg, albeit one that looked rather more tasty than normal frogs' legs are wont to do. But, to his great surprise, he saw something else, something golden. Fingers shaking, he up-ended the package and watched as the Wonka's Almost-As-Good-As-A-Real Chocolate Frog fell out onto his bed. And then It fell out, fluttering slightly as it descended to lie gently on his bed. A Golden Ticket.

Now, Harry was not so cut off from the world that he didn't know what a Golden Ticket was. He had, of course, overheard Dudley yelling at his mother about the whole idea, and had caught snatches of conversation from other children in the neighborhood. Knowing about it, however, was much different than actually seeing a Golden Ticket. And far from just seeing a Ticket, Harry actually had found one for himself! He didn't really know what to do--nothing in his wildest flights of fantasy, which were rather tame, actually, and mostly had to do with getting enough to eat and a good night's sleep, had prepared him for the idea that he would be able to tour the world-famous Wonka's Chocolate Factory. His first thought was, quite naturally, "There is no way I'm telling any of the Dursleys about this!" He knew beyond any doubt that if a hint of his good fortune were to reach their ears that the Ticket currently lying on his thin mattress would be confiscated and he would never have the pleasure of even seeing it again, let alone using it.

He had a perfectly good hiding place in the narrow part of the cupboard, but he was rather worried that even it might not be hidden enough, so he commenced a search of his cupboard to see if, perchance, there was another, better place that he could stash his incredible find. He didn't have a lot of hope--having lived in said cupboard for most of his almost-eleven years, he knew it intimately--but tonight seemed to be a night of blessed good fortune. On one side wall, up towards the top, the wallboard had pulled slightly away from the studs, leaving a gap, into which Harry could slide something thin, small, and highly valuable. He positioned himself in such a way as to imitate his uncle poking his head into the small space, and felt rather pleased that the new hidey-hole wasn't anywhere close to being visible. It was only if one put one's head all the way to the foot of the bed, and looked up slantwise towards the top, that it was even noticeable, and that as just an imperfection in the wall.

Before hiding the Ticket in its new home, however, Harry noticed that there was writing on it. The writing was done in a rather old-fashioned script, and read thusly:

Congratulations! It gives me more pleasure than I can express to present to you this Golden Ticket! That which you hold in your hand is your passport to more excitement and thrills than you can even begin to imagine. Please present yourself promptly at 8:00 AM on Saturday, July 31st, at the front gates of Wonka's Chocolate Factory. You may bring with you one (1) parent or guardian, if you so desire, to accompany you on this incredible excursion. Thrills and wonders await you, so prepare yourself for a day you'll never forget!

Harry was more excited than he had ever been in his life. He, of course, wouldn't be inviting any of the Dursleys to go with him--that would involve telling them what he had. He decided, though, that it wouldn't be a bad idea to have an adult that he trusted go with him. The only problem was that he didn't know of any adult that fit the bill. This would definitely bear further thinking.

------

A/N: The world of Chitty Chitty Bang Bang is owned by Ian Fleming, although the delightful book doesn't mention Toot Sweets. So, they are probably owned by the authors of the script, Ken Hughes, and surprisingly enough, Roald Dahl. See? It's one big circle thingy.
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