A/N: Hello everybody! Just a few responses to my lovely reviewers:

Maleficent Angel: Careful with that quote... you know what happened to Oliver after he said it! Many thanks. Chapter Sixteen of Circus of Life was fantastic, by the way.

Quill in Hand: I delight in making my readers nervous. I'm mean like that!

The Lady of Light: Many thanks. More of the same 'familiar' style just for you!

pohatufan1: I think you're getting ahead of me a bit there! Thanks for your review.

boogle: Thankyou for the thankyou for the thankyou. Does that make sense? Probably not. I've clearly been spending too much time writing Mr Wonka!

PucktoFaerie: Thanks. I return the salute!

whitestorm11: Okay! Here it is!

Good luck, my dears! And enjoy!

Chapter Four

Mr Wonka had played his part that day remarkably well. So well, in fact, that when Charlie went to bed that night he was far too busy thinking about chocolate to pay any heed to his earlier worries about Mr Wonka's wellbeing.

Mr Wonka had, true to his promise, shown Charlie things beyond his wildest dreams. First they had visited the Oompa Loompa village, where Charlie had been bestowed a great honour by the chief: the gift of a caoco bean. Charlie had accepted graciously, but as soon as they were out of sight he had put it down the chute for re-processing as wages for the Oompa Loompas. Mr Wonka had caught his eye at this point and winked.

"There's recycling for you! Now, hurry up, no time to dawdle..." And they were off again; Mr Wonka sliding down banisters and skipping up stairs like there was no tomorrow.

And so they had continued round the factory, at one point taking a break from the tour to 'test' the sugar-puff space hoppers (the only flaw was that they were too bouncy: at one point Charlie went so high Mr Wonka had to pull him down by his ankles), and then lunching in the Chocolate-Sunday room. When Charlie had mentioned to Mr Wonka the spelling mistake on the door, Mr Wonka had said incredulously: "There's another way to spell it?" Charlie, wisely, changed the subject.

There had been a few worrying moments, like when Charlie mentioned one of his school-friends and Mr Wonka had gone into a flashback half-way up a mining tower on the geyser field, but apart from that the day had gone very smoothly.

There are some things that Charlie saw that I cannot speak of: I fear that if I did Mr Wonka would be quite annoyed with me for revealing his greatest secrets. But rest assured that all that Charlie saw that day was incredible, magical and delectable.

As for Wonka, well, he of course immensely enjoyed the day. As you may have noticed, Mr Wonka possessed a slightly arrogant streak, and there is nothing more flattering to a chocolatier's ego than having a young boy like Charlie exclaim in amazement at his creations.

He was, however, brought back to earth with something of a bump the next day, when he found on his desk a letter he had been dreading. I cannot tell you of Mr Wonka's thoughts as he opened it, since a writer is only allowed the privilege of seeing into a given character's mind once a chapter, but a watchful Oompa Loompa told me that whatever colour was left in Wonka's face immediately drained away as he scanned the words. He then pocketed the letter, and with a determined expression on his face headed down to the Bucket's house for breakfast.

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Charlie bounded out of bed as soon as he heard the knock on the door. His mother was already up, cooking the breakfast, but he hurried to the door nonetheless.

"Mr Wonka!" He cried eagerly as he threw open the door. Mr Wonka stepped in, smiling slightly at the bright-eyed expression on Charlie's face.

"Gee, how can you be so awake? I'd have thought that after yesterday you'd be all tired out!" He exclaimed cheerfully, and Charlie grinned.

"Not really." He said, as Mr Wonka seated himself beside Grandma Georgina, who smiled sweetly up at him. Charlie was too busy trying to hold back his excitement to notice the rather cold stare that Grandma George shot the chocolatier or the cold pallor of Mr Wonka's cheeks.

Mr Wonka paused for a moment and looked hard at Charlie, his head cocked to one side, a strange little smile playing on his lips.

"I guess you've got lots of ideas to tell me after yesterday." He said quietly, before nodding at Charlie. "Let's hear them."

Charlie took a deep breath, and around the table the parents and grandparents exchanged smiling glances. Mr Wonka's eyes were fixed upon Charlie.

"Well," he said, "I was thinking about the pens that you can suck in lessons..." And so it went on, and Charlie was still sitting there talking to Mr Wonka with a barely-touched plate of food in front of him when everyone else had finished eating, and he only stopped when his mother told him it was time to go to school.

Mr Wonka watched him go out of the door with a slightly distant look in his eyes.

"He's a good boy." He said softly, almost to himself. "I'm glad he's here." Mr and Mrs Bucket exchanged glances.

"He's glad to be here. We all are." Mr Bucket said eventually, and Mr Wonka gave him his familiar thoughtful stare. There was something in his eyes that only an adult would notice, and it was something that Mr Bucket didn't like at all.

Mr Wonka, not seeming to notice the fact that everyone in the tiny shack was staring at him, took out the letter and fiddled with it absently. Eventually, he said:

"I'll be leaving the factory for a while soon." Everyone stared at him, apart from Grandma Georgina, who was humming the tune of 'Oh Susanna'. Grandpa George broke the silence.

"For how long?" He asked. Mr Wonka looked up suddenly, and the two shared a look that was far from childlike. The chocolatier lowered his eyes before answering.

"I'm not sure." He said, swallowing nervously. "A week, maybe two." His shoulders slumped suddenly, and the façade of boisterous energy that he always wore around Charlie slipped away. Grandma Georgina stopped humming; perhaps even she sensed that this was a moment for respectful silence.

None of the adults asked Mr Wonka why he was leaving. In their hearts, and with that terrible wisdom that we gain when we enter adulthood, they already knew.

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The day of the 1st of August dawned bright and sunny. Far too sunny, in Mr Wonka's opinion. He was by nature a usually optimistic person, but the thought of leaving his beloved factory to go to... that place robbed him of any sense of cheer.

Still, he had to appear cheerful, if only for Charlie's sake. He had eventually made up a story about going off to collect new tastes for candy, like he had done in Loompaland, but he had the strangest sense that old Grandpa George had not for one minute believed his tale. The old man had the most uncanny ability of being able to see right through him...

Charlie had started his school holidays a week or so ago, Wonka remembered dimly. The poor boy had been quite distraught at his going away... funny thing, that...

His musings were interrupted by a sudden tug on his trouser-leg by a serious-looking Oompa Loompa. Mr Wonka knelt down, and inclined his head in a bow. The Oompa Loompa returned the bow, his little eyes narrowed in suspicion. Mr Wonka forced a grin.

"You make sure everyone does what Charlie says, alright?" He told the Oompa Loompa. The tiny man nodded in assurance, then turned to leave. Mr Wonka watched him disappear out of the Chocolate Room, then turned back to the river.

The river did look fine today... how he loved his chocolate factory. And how would miss it.

Mr Wonka turned away from the river, blinking hard. There was a funny feeling in his throat that he could only remember feeling once before, when he had returned to find his father as a child and seen the house gone...

He turned and left the Chocolate Room. He had said goodbye to his factory, but he couldn't say goodbye to Charlie.

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A/N: I'm not exactly happy with this chapter, but it gets the story to where I want it to be. Please tell me what you think!