AUTHOR'S NOTES: Editing the chapter names so they make sense, and it has sadly taken me two years to notice this dreadful mistake, which I apologise for. This story is pre-Cherry Street, and pre-Charlie Bucket era. Maybe considered Alternative Universe/AU.

DISCLAIMER: Charlie and the Chocolate Factory copyrighted to Roald Dahl. 2005 remake is copyrighted to Tim Burton and Warner Bros. respectively. Protrayals are taken from Johnny Depp, and Blair Dunlop. Zachary Leonhart copyrighted to me.

Introduction

Willy Wonka was sitting down on his favourite bench in the local park, just on the outskirts of his old home. He'd recently returned from his years of exploring the world for inspiration to create his own candy, and bought a small apartment temporarily – or rented one out until he could buy the place over the desired shop for his dream candy store.

It was nearing sunset, the dimming light slipping over the horizon. He'd spend the whole day walking around, adjusting to his life here, and remembering all the things he'd forgotten. He'd just turned seventeen, sweet seventeen for that matter. The poor lad never had been kissed, all apart from his mother of course – the only girl to ever kiss him.

He recalled all the years his parents used to bring him to the park, every spring for a picnic on a bright, sunny day. The memory brought a small back onto his face, his new immaculate smile. The adolescent drew his tongue softly along his upper row of teeth, frowning. They'd never be like that if it wasn't for his father.

His father…

The loud sound of dull drilling echoed into the small hallway of an unhappy looking house. There in a lonesome chair sat a little boy, swinging his legs absently; waiting for his turn. He was the son of the dentist that was dealing with the patient before him.

All around him, there were patients coming in and waiting to either have an appointment planned or waiting to be worked on. Some children were playing with the few toys this house had, which made the dark haired boy frown – His toys.

Where was his mum when he needed her? She said she would go to the shops and only be "two ticks" (whatever that meant). His odd purple eyes narrowed viciously at the strange children playing with his toys, these were the children after him. But he was told to share.

Eventually, the drilling and cries stopped. "There you go, sir. All finished" His father, the dentist boomed out from behind the closed door. Little Willy Wonka gulped heavily and felt his oddly shaped teeth in nervousness. 'Oh boy...'

Taking a big deep breath, a brave one he came face to face with his father who grinned at him. The man before had left, having been giving something for the pain. "Ah, Willy. Just take a seat and let your father have a look" the gruff voice spoke again…

Willy hesitated, staring at the large chair before him, his odd eyes widening. He brought a hand to a cheek, almost protecting it. "Come on Willy, it's not going to hurt…Willy…?"…

Willy shook his head, leaning back and folding a leg over a bent knee. He pretended to watch a group of boys playing football. His unique violet eyes dazed as he allowed himself to day dream, think over what things he had to do and complete. Just to forget the memory of his father.

Unpack a couple of more boxes, get money out from his closed bank account to pay for the rent and pay for daily foods and drinks. Definitely had washing to do…he decided it was best getting it over and done with the coming weekend in the next couple of days.

Wonka sighed. One of his feet was vibrating against the grassy floor, some of the blades shimmering with dew from the dulling warmth of the day. It was a habit he picked up over the years of travelling, tapping his foot consistently.

He brought a hand against to his face, chewing his bottom lip thoughtfully, his other hand making sure his coat was bottomed up as far as it would go - the wind was beginning to get a little nippy. His eyebrows furrowed as his eyes closed. He'd have to go back sooner or later, but he just decided to sit for a while longer trying to relive the good old days when his parents were happy together.

Willy didn't hear the cheering voices of the boys coming closer until he felt something bump roughly into his boot. "Ow!" he yelped, his eyes snapping open to look upon what made contact with his foot. A football.

He looked up, finding one of the boys from the group jogging over. "Sorry 'bout that mister, mind throwing us the ball?"

Wonka couldn't help but stare at the boy that approached him as he reached down to collect the ball in his hands, ready to throw the distance. He was getting a sense of deja-vu just looking at him. Something wasn't…quite right.

"Hey, mister! Can you pass the ball?" the sound of the boy's voice drew him out of his thoughts, making him give the boy complete eye contact. "Huh? O-oh, heh. Yeah, sorry"

Wonka laughed nervously, leaning forward with the large object and gave it a successful throw into the boy's awaiting arms. Getting an exasperated 'thank you' in return. The boy's blue eyes rolled in annoyance, muttering to himself.

With a deep frown on his face, the chocolatier in training slowly sat back in disbelief, staring after the boy in deep thought. That face. He'd seen it before, but didn't know where. It was like a ghost, staring back at him. Where had he seen that face before? He couldn't put his darn finger on it. He just couldn't.