Chapter 104: The Evil That Is Cho
"The wounds of betrayal never heal," Fred proclaimed dramatically, striking an exaggerated pose as he dragged George out of the compartment. The two of them still wanted to go admire the giant spider Lee had brought along.
Cedric closed the door behind them, and the compartment immediately became much quieter.
"So," Russell raised an eyebrow at them, "how's married life treating you?"
The question came out of nowhere and instantly sent both Cedric and Cho Chang into a crimson blush.
"It's—not that far yet," Cedric stammered. "You've got some nerve saying that. You and Wednesday aren't exactly any different."
This time, Russell was the one left speechless.
Cedric wasn't wrong—but there was no way to respond to that without digging himself into a hole.
Sensing the awkward lull, Cho quickly pulled open her suitcase and took out several jars and bottles, stacking them neatly on the table.
"These are some local specialties from my hometown," she said brightly. "I brought them for you to try. I hope you'll like them."
Russell's eyes lit up. He vaguely remembered that Cho was of Chinese descent—which meant her "hometown" was…
Sure enough, a familiar-looking package appeared before his eyes.
"Lao… Gan… Dad?" Russell's hand twitched, and he nearly dropped it.
The familiar fiery woman was gone, replaced by the portrait of an elderly man.
"Cho," Russell said with a conflicted expression, "are you sure you didn't buy a knockoff?"
"How could that be?" Cho said confidently. "This is the famous Lao Gan Dad—world-renowned! I even heard it sells really well at the American Magical Congress."
She spoke with the absolute confidence of someone saying I'm a local, trust me.
Russell reluctantly accepted her explanation. Perhaps this was just one of those quirks caused by parallel-world discrepancies.
"Oh? You really brought the full lineup," he said, examining them one by one. Pixian doubanjiang, Lee Kum Kee chili sauce—everything that mattered was there.
"With these," Russell said confidently, "I'll show you something special someday."
"Oh, and there's also this," Cho added with a mischievous grin as she pulled out over a dozen packets filled with a gray-green, viscous liquid.
"This is a famous delicacy from there. I went through a lot of trouble to bring it back to Britain."
Russell picked one up, examined it closely, then leaned in to sniff it. A powerful aroma slammed straight into his nose.
Wait… don't tell me…
Was this douzhi?
Cho… how could you be so evil?
Who taught her this? Definitely Cedric—he must've corrupted her.
"You packed this in your suitcase," Russell said slowly. "Do you… still want the rest of your luggage?"
Cho's expression changed instantly. She shoved her head back into the suitcase, and a horrifying stench assaulted her senses.
"Scourgify!" she coughed, waving her wand frantically.
Seeing this, Cedric immediately lost all interest in tasting it.
Russell, having long heard of douzhi's fearsome reputation, had already prepared himself mentally.
Only Wednesday—who had quietly put down her book—was now watching with clear curiosity.
She wanted to try it.
Russell didn't stop her. After all, Addams family cuisine was already bizarre beyond reason. Maybe this wouldn't faze her at all.
Cho, who hadn't met Wednesday before and only knew her by reputation, suddenly felt a twinge of guilt and hesitation.
But in the end, she could only watch as Wednesday calmly tore open the packet.
In an instant, a pungent aroma—somewhere between fermented pickled vegetables and raw beans—flooded the compartment.
Everyone immediately started waving their wands, and it took a good while before the smell was completely dispelled.
Wednesday had already taken a mouthful.
She frowned slightly, smacked her lips thoughtfully, and after a long pause, finally spoke:
"Authentic."
Russell froze.
Perfect Beijing pronunciation. Even with an -er sound.
"That means the rumors weren't lying," Cho said in shock. "They said drinking this really lets you learn Chinese."
Clearly, she hadn't known that either.
"So… how does it taste?" Russell asked cautiously.
"It's not bad," Wednesday nodded, handing him the remaining half.
Under her expectant gaze, Russell gritted his teeth and forced himself to drink the remaining half.
The liquid was thick and smooth as it went down, with a fine, grainy texture. The mouthfeel wasn't actually bad—if not for the aggressive smell assaulting his nose, more people might have been able to accept it.
Alright, the truth was that Russell nearly threw up. He only managed to swallow it out of sheer respect for food from his homeland, refusing to let it go to waste.
After a long while, he finally recovered and turned to Cedric and Cho.
"Wednesday and I have done our part," Russell said solemnly. "Now it's your turn."
Cho waved her hands frantically. "I've already had it! I drank it locally—lots of it!"
Russell didn't bother verifying the claim. Instead, he turned his gaze toward Cedric with a feral grin.
"Hey, brother. Your girlfriend brought these specialties all the way here. You wouldn't refuse to drink them, would you?"
"No—bro, don't do this—I can't handle it!" Cedric's face filled with terror.
"Hehehe… scream all you want," Russell cackled darkly. "The more you scream, the happier I get."
He tore open a fresh packet of douzhi and advanced toward Cedric.
In the end, despite his desperate resistance, Cedric failed to escape his fate. Russell successfully poured half a packet straight down his throat.
Seeing her boyfriend suffer, Cho's heart softened. She grabbed the remaining half and downed it herself.
"…It actually doesn't taste that bad," Cho said hesitantly.
She had braced herself for something as horrifying as the smell—but after tasting it, it wasn't nearly as unbearable as she'd imagined.
Russell and Cedric stared at her in pure horror.
"Not… bad?" Cedric muttered, desperately replaying the taste in his mind. His face turned green, then white. He yanked a trash bin from beneath the small table and began vomiting violently.
Cho reached for a second packet, but Russell hurriedly stopped her.
"These fine delicacies should be saved for our classmates."
Cedric chugged soda like his life depended on it, finally recovering after a long struggle.
"Oh—right," Cedric suddenly said, slapping his forehead. He pulled out a copy of that day's Daily Prophet from his suitcase.
"Look—today's front-page headline: The Youngest Merlin Award Recipient."
Everyone leaned in.
At the center of the paper was a large photograph of Russell, dressed in Hogwarts robes, smiling warmly and waving at the camera.
"Where did they even get my photo?" Russell frowned. "I don't remember the Daily Prophet interviewing me."
"Who knows?" Cedric shrugged. "But you really made a splash. I doubt there's a wizard in Britain who doesn't recognize you now."
He sighed wistfully. "I wish I could have a day like that."
"Oh, right," Cho said mysteriously. "Did you know something huge happened this summer?"
Russell thought for a moment. "You don't mean… the collapse of the Soviet Union?"
"How did you know?" Cho looked shocked—then quickly realized it. Russell was Muggle-born, after all. Of course he'd know.
She'd simply forgotten, unconsciously assuming he lived entirely within the magical world—his magical ability was just too impressive.
"I was going to let you try these earlier," he said, gesturing at the colorful spread of Soviet candies, "but the douzhi nearly killed me, and I forgot."
Her mouth fell open as she stared at the assortment.
"Where did you even get all this? Don't tell me you went to the Soviet Union this summer."
"Bingo." Russell nodded. "Spent half a month there. Gained a lot—though it was pretty dangerous."
Thinking back to the battle in the theater, Russell realized how terrifying it truly was. At the time, with Gomez protecting him, it hadn't felt that intense—but in hindsight, it had been extremely risky.
"Tell us everything!" Cho and Cedric urged eagerly, stuffing candy into their mouths.
People always said Americans were addicted to sugar—but the British weren't far behind.
Russell didn't mention treasure hunting with the Addams family. Instead, he focused on the events in the theater.
The two listened, stunned, gasping at tense moments as if they'd been there themselves.
The immersion was flawless.
"I never imagined the Soviet magical authorities were like that," Cedric said with a frown. "They can't compare to our Ministry at all."
Russell sneered inwardly. As if the British Ministry was any better.
Cornelius Fudge was a walking disaster—terrified Dumbledore would take his power, yet utterly dependent on him whenever real problems arose. A textbook bureaucrat. Russell had nothing but disdain for the man.
Just as their conversation drifted toward certain unmentionable topics, the compartment door suddenly opened.
They all fell silent and turned to look.
"Has anyone seen a toad?" a girl asked. "Neville's lost his toad."
Her tone was bossy and self-important. She had thick brown hair and prominent front teeth.
"We haven't seen any toads here," Russell said, giving her a casual wave.
Hermione immediately stiffened when she recognized him. Her earlier confidence visibly shrank.
"Hello, Mr. Fythorne," she said politely, nodding before her gaze shifted to Wednesday.
She's here too.
Hermione remembered Wednesday vividly. The image of her calmly knocking out that boy in Diagon Alley with a spell still lingered in her mind.
That icy, emotionless presence—like a black lotus in bloom.
Then she noticed the book in Wednesday's hands.
"Oh my goodness—is that Love, Death & Robots?" Hermione exclaimed excitedly.
"It's incredibly popular! I begged my dad for ages before he agreed to buy it for me, but by the time we got to the bookstore, it was completely sold out!"