Sirius stared around and Harry could tell that he was bursting with curiosity at all of the people running around as if they were working very hard to keep the world spinning on its axis. He saw Sirius's eyes following a parade of young men, the one in the lead carrying a large presentation mirror with three others following, juggling smaller mirrors with their clipboards. The group disappeared around a corner and as Harry turned away from watching them, Lavender popped up seemingly out of nowhere.
"Good morning, Harry!" she said, her voice and eyes bright. "Are you ready for another day? It's bread today!"
"Oh, bread! That's fantastic!" Harry put his hand on Sirius's shoulder. "Listen, I hope you don't mind, but I've brought a guest. This is—"
"Sirius Black," he said, holding out his hand to Lavender. "I'm Harry's godfather and he came back so full of stories about this place that I just had to see it for myself."
Lavender shook his hand, clearly bemused and for a moment, Harry worried that she'd say that Sirius had to go, but she smiled. "Welcome, Mr Black! We're very glad to have you here today," she said, making a note on her clipboard. "Now, if you'll follow me, Harry's got to meet with Ostentatia to go over the day's events."
Turning around, she set off at top speed, leaving Harry and Sirius to follow. A moment later, Sirius joined Lavender up front as they wove through the warren of hallways that made up the production studio, peppering her with questions. Harry tuned them out, letting his mind wander.
Bread this week. How many different sorts of bread are there? Wholemeal, white, rye … erm … Well, I suppose me and Ostentatia will have a nice long chat all about it. He sighed, looking up just in time to step out of the way of a woman rolling a whole rack of dresses. "Sorry, love!" she yelled over her shoulder as she whizzed past.
Shaken out of his bread reverie, Harry's mind turned toward the contestants. Shame about Liam last time, but his Victoria sponge was more like a Victoria pancake. Ginny Weasley did well, though. So did that Dean and … Ella? Emma? I guess I better refresh myself on who's who. Getting a name wrong won't really be the best for the department, would it?
That last thought made him think about his last meeting with Antony Jones who practically crowed in delight at his report of his first filming session. "When does it come out? When will everyone be able to see our boy on their mirrors?" he'd asked.
"Erm, I don't know, sir. I suppose I'll ask when I go back," Harry had answered, well aware of those rabbity blue eyes drilling into him.
"See that you do! We'll want to get the department together and watch!" Dismissed, Harry left, inwardly dying at that thought of the entire Auror department watching him make an arse out of himself on Britain's Most Magical Baker.
Paying attention, he realized they were almost to Ostentatia's office and he smiled, looking forward to his co-host's attention being diverted away from him by his suave godfather.
Ginny smoothed down her jumper as she turned around, eyeing her reflection critically. Is black really the way to go? It's bread today, so there'll be flour everywhere, but we have aprons … and it goes so well with this skirt. She ran her hands over the black watch plaid skirt, tugging it down a little bit. Do I look like a sweet, demure baker? Ostentatia's face seemed to appear in the mirror, her pinched mouth pulled down into a frown.
Well, let's not borrow trouble, all right? Banishing the image from her mind, Ginny stepped into her most comfortable loafers, knowing that she'd be on her feet most of the day. All right, Weasley. It's go time. She left her room, slipping on her jacket by the door, trying to calm the butterflies in her stomach as she prepared to Apparate to the studio. She brushed aside the momentary thought—Do I have butterflies for competing again or seeing Harry Potter today?
She arrived at the studio and was immediately surrounded by the chaos that was almost starting to be familiar. Production assistants, or PA's as she'd learned they were called, scurried to and fro, all of them clutching clipboards. Some of them had their wands to their ears, speaking urgently to someone only they could hear.
Expecting Parvati to show up at any moment to collect her, Ginny waited, watching everyone hard at work at creating entertainment. One woman whizzed by, a whole rack of clothes following close behind like a well-trained dog. A man and a woman deep in conversation passed close by and she caught a few words.
"We have third act problems," the man said, his voice low and urgent.
The woman shook her head in disagreement. "No, it's not the third act that's the problem. You have no hero's journey in the second act." They passed her and the sound of their argument faded away.
Bemused, Ginny continued to wait, her hopes of Parvati coming for her dimming. Maybe I'm meant to find my own way myself? She found the prospect quite daunting as she hadn't really paid attention to directions the last time she'd been there. I'll give her a few more minutes. Maybe she got caught up in a tea emergency, she thought, recalling tiny Dennis Creevey speeding past with a laden tea tray. I'd wondered where he ended up. I wonder if Colin would have ended up here as well?
After several more minutes had passed and no smiling Parvati showed up, Ginny gathered her courage and stepped out into the tumult. She headed towards a landmark that looked a bit familiar, a mural of Lawrence the storytelling welsh green dragon. I used to love Lawrence when I was little. In her mind, she heard his trademark deep chortling laugh. Now, is it turn left at Lawrence or right? Shrugging, she turned left, passing through a very small, very fake forest that she thought she remembered, but couldn't be sure. Continuing on in her haphazard fashion, she finally spotted a door that said BMMB in glittery gold letters.
Relief swept over her and she pushed open the door to be greeted by the sight of Harry Potter looking very comfortable in an overstuffed leather chair.
"Ozzie," Sirius said, smiling expansively as he shook Ostentatia Verbena's beringed hand. "I'm sorry, that's rude of me. Do you prefer Ostentatia?"
Harry watched as Ostentatia grinned back, her free hand fluttering over her heart. "Oh, why, Mr Black! Ozzie is … fine, I suppose …"
Sirius's eyebrows went up and he leaned in close, putting his head next to hers. "Mr Black is my dad," he said in a low voice, speaking out of the corner of his mouth as if he were afraid of being overheard. "Sirius will do for me."
Harry shook his head, simply in awe of how easily Sirius flattered Ostentatia, inserting himself as a person-of-interest in her orbit as she smiled up at him. He glanced over at Lavender, seeing her similarly enraptured. Now that's one skill I need to learn. Clearing his throat, he tried to divert his co-judge's attention. "Erm, it's bread this week, right?"
"Bread?" Ostentatia looked at him, her expression blank for a moment before recovering. "Yes, bread week! A true test of skill that should show us who the real frontrunners are." She turned to Sirius, taking his hand. "Sirius, you look like you know your way around a loaf. What's your favorite sort?"
"Ah, well, that depends on what I'm in the mood for. Sometimes nothing but a good, crusty sourdough will suit, but for an eggy bread breakfast, you need something a bit more delicate."
"Like a nice brioche," Ostentatia said, moving down the hallway towards her office. Feeling like a forgotten glove, Harry trailed after the pair. "Oh, Harry," Ostentatia said, sounding like she'd finally realized he was there. "Why don't you head over and get yourself sorted for the mirrors? We'll have plenty of time to chat later."
Following her into her office, Sirius waggled his eyebrows and made a shooing motion at him, grinning when Harry rolled his eyes. Door shut practically in his face, Harry stared, hardly believing what had just happened.
Thrown over for my forty-five year-old godfather. Just like that. Harry put his hands in his jeans pockets and rocked back on his heels. Thank God. He noticed that Lavender had made herself scarce and for a moment he felt almost giddy at the prospect of not having a minder in all of the hubbub.
Picking a direction, he headed off down the hallway, trying to look like he knew where he was going and what he was doing. He glanced inside one open room, looking quickly away when he saw a young man slumped down in a chair. He was crying and a dark-haired woman was rubbing his back, obviously trying to get him to calm down.
"You know Mark Robinson's a twat," Harry heard the woman say as he walked quickly away, face burning in secondhand embarrassment.
Turning left around a corner, he thought he spotted a door that looked familiar and opened it. "Finally! Where's the tea we asked for half an hour ago?" A man sitting behind a desk covered with an impossibly long roll of parchment squinted at him.
"I hope he hasn't forgotten the Jaffa cakes again," said a woman with messy blonde hair. She had several quills stuck all through her hair, making her look like some sort of odd feathered variety of porcupine. "You haven't forgotten them, have you?"
"Erm, sorry. I'll just—" Harry said, backing away and closing the door.
After almost getting run down by an autonomous tea trolley, sparkly gold letters caught his eye and he turned, seeing a door emblazoned with BMMB. Almost afraid of what he might find, Harry opened the door and breathed a sigh of relief at the sight of comfy leather club chairs and a well-stocked refreshments table. I've managed to find the green room on my own. Excellent. He sat down in one of the large leather club chairs, glancing at the table laden with food. We're going to do nothing but eat all day. Why even have that? he wondered.
He'd just picked up one of the glossy gossip rags from the coffee table when Ginny Weasley walked into the room. Harry had a moment to take in her figure in the black jumper and tartan skirt before she realized he was there.
"Oh, no! I'm all turned around!" she said when she saw him. Her cheeks turned pink in embarrassment and Harry felt a corresponding heat rise in his own cheeks.
"No, it's all right. Come and sit down," Harry said, motioning to the empty chair across from him.
"I don't know if that's allowed." Ginny stepped forward, looking like she expected to get shouted at by someone with a clipboard.
"It'll be fine. Do they think I'm going to give you pointers and help you cheat?" He spread his hands wide in and exaggerated show of innocence and smiled. "I'm rubbish at baking."
Encouraged, Ginny fully entered the room and sat down in the chair he'd indicated, pushing her long red hair behind her ears. She smiled back at him and nodded to the food-covered table. "Why do they have that in here? All we're going to do all day is eat."
Harry let out a surprised bark of laughter. "That's exactly what I thought! Although I suppose you're going to be baking and we're going to be the ones eating."
"Oh, well, I have to taste as I go, don't I?," she said, immediately covering her face. "I'm so sorry!"
"For what?" Harry asked, thoroughly enchanted by her wit. He leaned in closer, trying to meet her downcast eyes, aware of the silly grin stretching across his face.
Visibly composing herself, Ginny sat up straight, setting her hands primly on her knees. "That was not a proper way for a contestant to address a judge. My apologies, Mr Potter, for sounding entirely too forward."
The twitch of a smile at the corner of her lips belied her somber tone and Harry shook his head. He settled back in his chair, narrowing his eyes at her. "Mr Potter. Now that's more like it. About time I got some respect around here."
"Is that what you're after? Respect?"
"Isn't that what everyone is after?"
Ginny pursed her lips and nodded. "I suppose. Myself, I'm in it for the prize."
"Are you really?" Harry frowned. "I don't even know what the prize is."
"Are you serious?" Ginny's mouth fell open and then quickly closed it again. "It's a complete set of baking equipment like what we use in the tent. And a cake plate." She shook her head at him, looking like she was genuinely dismayed. "How can you not know that? Don't you watch the show?"
Harry shrugged. "Nah, not really my thing, is it?"
"What is your thing, then? Catching bad guys? Throwing them to the Dementors in Azkaban?"
Shifting a little in the chair, Harry looked away from Ginny and tried not to shrug again. "Mm, more like that's what I was taught, yeah?"
"That was rude of me," she said after a moment of silence. "I shouldn't be here. I'll see you in the tent."
"No, stay," Harry said, holding up his hand as she made to stand up. "I … it wasn't rude. Listen, I know your dad. Arthur, right?"
Surprised, Ginny sat back down in the chair, smoothing her skirt over her knees. "Yeah, Arthur Weasley is my dad. How d'you know him?"
"He taught me some Muggle stuff. For my … training. I had to know how to blend in, just in case."
"Hold on." Ginny held up her hand and closed her eyes for a moment before opening them again. "My dad, possibly the most awkward wizard ever, taught you how to blend in with Muggles?"
"Yeah. He was dead good at it, too." Harry stared at Ginny as she shook with laughter, collapsing back into the chair. "What? Are you having me on?"
"Oh, no, not at all. It's just …" she said, pausing a moment to wipe her eyes and catch her breath. "It's just unexpected, is all. All my life he's just been my bumbling dad with his little workshop full of Muggle bits and bobs. It's like finding out my dad has been a secret agent this whole time!"
"Well—"
Just then, Sirius ambled into the room, heading straight for the table of plenty. He took his time making his selections, piling a plate high.
"Not everyone gets to have treats practically thrown at them," he said, settling down in the last empty chair. He held out his hand and introduced himself. "Sirius Black."
"Ginny Weasley," she said, shaking his hand. "I'm one of the competitors. I'm probably not supposed to be here."
"Pah, what're they afraid of?" Sirius pointed at Harry with a raw baby carrot. "That one couldn't bake his way out of a paper bag. There's no way you're getting any hints from him."
"Hey, I made that thing that one time," Harry said, noticing the smile Ginny covered with her hand.
Ignoring him, Sirius sat back in the club chair, crossing one ankle over his knee. "Now, me on the other hand. I'm dangerous in the kitchen."
"Are you now? How come you didn't audition, then?" Ginny asked, her cheeks pink with amusement.
"Well, I don't want to show up all of the bright young stars, do I?"
Harry shook his head at Sirius's flirting. He opened his mouth to extemporize on his godfather's kitchen skills, intending to tell the story of the Christmas pudding that almost burned down the house, but Ostentatia entered the room, her gray eyes focusing on Ginny in an instant. Lavender followed a moment later.
"Oh my dear, I'm afraid you're in the wrong place," she said, the pleasant smile on her face at odds with her tone. "Lav, can you please see that Miss Weasley is guided back to where she belongs?"
Lavender nodded, her wand already next to her right ear. "Yes, mum," she said before murmuring quietly.
Harry shifted uncomfortably as Ginny flushed a brilliant red. "I'm sorry! I got all turned around and I thought this was …" She trailed off and a moment later, a very harried-looking Parvati Patil entered the room.
"There you are! I was going spare and thought I'd lost you! We're nearly ready!" she said, holding her hand out to Ginny.
Ginny stood up, smoothing the back of her skirt. "I … it was nice meeting you, Mr Black," she said, all schoolgirl politeness before she practically scuttled out of the room, hot on Parvati's heels.
Ostentatia gave a little sniff and promptly sat down in the chair Ginny had just vacated, turning her attention to Harry. "Now Harry, today is bread day and it can be quite difficult to judge a good loaf from a bad one. We have about thirty minutes before we need to start." She reached out and put a hand on his knee, squeezing gently. "How about I teach you some of the finer points of good bread?"
"Erm, all right." Harry shifted around, trying to gracefully get his knee out from underneath Ostentatia's grasping fingers. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught Sirius trying to hide his grin in his teacup.
"Well right now I'm kneading the dough to develop the gluten," Ginny said, trying to focus on the sticky ball in her hands instead of the fuzzy microphone hovering over her head.
"And what does that do?" Luna Lovegood asked, leaning over the worktop and taking a deep breath. "It smells wonderful. Reminds me of springtime."
How in the world does bread remind someone of springtime? Ginny wondered as she stepped a little to the side away from Luna, feeling crowded. "Well, gluten is what makes bread springy." She glanced up, catching sight of Ostentatia Verbena across the room. She was standing with her arms crossed, watching Dean working his dough. "We don't want any stodgy loaves here, do we?"
"Oh, no. I tried to make bread once and Daddy said that it was better suited to being used as bait for rock-eating worms!" Luna threw back her head, letting out a girlish laugh and Ginny let out an agreeable chuckle.
"Well, hopefully the only thing hard on this bread is the crust!" She continued working her dough, feeling it grow silkier against her palms as Luna wandered off to badger Martha. She pulled a small piece off and pulled it into a small square, stretching it thin.
"What's that for?" Harry asked, seeming to appear next to her out of thin air.
Startled, Ginny dropped the bit of dough onto the floor and put her hand over her chest. "Oh my stars! You nearly frightened me to death!"
"Sorry." Harry shrugged, giving her that sheepish grin that was growing on her faster than it had any right to.
"It's all right. I was just lost in bread world!" Ginny bent and picked up the piece of dough, tossing it into the bin. "It's called a windowpane test." She took another small piece and pulled it into a square, holding it up for Harry. "It's how you see if you've got your dough right. It should stretch enough for you to see through without breaking. See?" She let out a breath, pleased when the dough stretched with no trouble, letting light shine through.
Still holding the square of dough, Ginny looked at him, finding that she liked his dark brows drawn down in concentration as much as his sheepish grins. Their eyes met and a warmth bloomed across her cheeks, her own sheepish smile starting to come out.
"Ah, windowpane test. Good." Startled for the second time in five minutes, Ginny managed to not drop the dough this time as Ostentatia leaned in from the other side of the worktop, peering critically at her dough. "Careful not to overwork it," she said as she swept away to another contestant.
Sighing, Ginny re-integrated her test into the dough, shaping it into a smooth ball, the memory of her mortification at being found with Harry and Sirius in the host green room that morning coming back in full force.
Next to her, Harry cleared his throat. "I'll let you get on with your work then." He gave her a tentative pat on her shoulder. "Good luck."
"Thanks." Ginny put her dough in a clean bowl and covered it, setting it aside to rise. Turning her attention to cutting up the fresh dirigible plums for the jam she was planning to put inside her Chelsea buns, she tried to block out the sounds of Dean, Harry and Ostentatia laughing at his workstation.
Once her plums were simmering, she took a moment to do a bit of clearing up at her workstation, carrying empty bowls and utensils to the dish station at the rear of the tent. As she turned around to go back, she nearly crashed into Dean, managing to swerve to the side at the last second.
"Sorry!" she said, reaching out a steadying hand on his arm as he struggled not to drop several bowls. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw one of the crew shift a mirror to face them and a fuzzy microphone zoomed over, hovering expectantly over their heads. They don't miss a trick!
"Oh, that's just payback, isn't it? I don't know how many times I had to get out of your way when you were after the Snitch!" Dean mimed looking up, eyes wide in horror as he ducked down out of the way of an imaginary Ginny flying past him.
Red-faced, Ginny could only giggle at his theatrics. "Do you remember when you broke your collarbone blocking Malfoy for me?"
"How could I forget?" He playfully pushed her shoulder. "Anything for my favorite ginger."
Ginny raised an eyebrow. "Who's your second favorite ginger?"
"George," Dean whispered, leaning closer. "Don't tell Seamus!" He burst out with another one of his long rolling laughs and Ginny saw Harry look towards them out of the corner of her eye. She couldn't quite tell, but she thought she saw a frown on his face.
Running out of laughter, Dean wiped his hands on his apron and crossed his arms. "How's it going? Are you in yet?"
Ginny's scalp prickled and she fought the impulse to look for Harry. "In what?" she asked, wondering if her chat with Harry earlier was already widely known.
"In the oven?" he clarified, raising an eyebrow.
"Oh! No, not yet. I still have a bit of proving to go. I've got my plums on though." Worried about her simmering plums, she headed back to her workstation with Dean, the microphone following along. "What about you?"
"Just went in," he said, pride evident in his voice.
"Already?" she gasped. "How long of a bake is it? Panettone, right?"
"Yeah. About an hour, usually. At home, anyway." Dean glanced at the oven at his workstation. "Although this is a different oven …" He turned back to Ginny and hugged her. "Good luck with your plums. I've got to keep an eye on things here."
"Thanks," she said as he folded his lanky body down onto the floor of the tent, peering anxiously into the foreign oven.
"Ella, can you please bring up your bake?" Lee Jordan asked. Next to him, Luna let out a sigh of appreciation at the sight of the lemon iced and chocolate with orange buns. Despite his dangerously full stomach, Harry's mouth watered in anticipation of the tartness of the lemon-filled buns.
After setting the laden platter on the table, Ella stepped back, clasping her hands in front of her. Harry smiled at her but she didn't respond, eyes flitting between Ostentatia and him, who was currently examining the two dozen buns in front of them.
"Looks like a nice, even bake," she said, the floating microphones capturing every word. She took one of each and set them on a clean plate, using her wand to slice the both of them neatly in two. She reached out with a red-nailed finger and pushed on the roll. The bread sank in and sprang back. "See that? That's perfectly proved," she said and Harry wracked his memory as to what "proved" meant.
"Mm," he agreed. "Shall we see how it tastes?" He picked up half of the lemon iced bun and bit into it, closing his eyes as the tartness of the lemon exploded on his tongue, followed a moment later by the sweetness of the icing. "This is lovely," he said after he'd swallowed. He was sorely tempted to take another bite, but didn't, knowing that there were eight more contestants to judge. Pace yourself, Potter.
"Absolutely scrumptious," Ostentatia said. She set that down and treated the chocolate bun to the same finger poke treatment. Harry didn't seem to think that one sprang back in quite the same manner, but it still tasted delicious. "Very nice, my dear." Dismissed, Ella went back to her workstation, shoulders hunched in delight. Luna used her wand to send the platter with the remaining buns to a production assistant behind them where they were secreted away to be enjoyed by the crew.
Once Ella had reached her workstation, Luna called Ginny Weasley up next. Obviously surprised to be called up so soon, Ginny's face colored pink and she stood up, smoothing her tartan skirt, reminding Harry of how she'd done that exact same movement when she'd wandered into the host green room earlier that day. Her platter floating in front of her, Harry had to admire her calm expression as she approached the judging table.
"Oh, those look so pretty!" Luna said, clapping her hands together in delight.
"I hope they taste as good as they look," Ostentatia murmured out of the corner of her mouth.
"These do look wonderful. What flavors have you got for us today?" Harry asked, giving her a moment to gather herself.
"I've made for you two different sorts of Chelsea buns. I've got spiced orange and dirigible plum with lemon," Ginny said, tucking her long red hair behind her ears.
"Dirigible plum? Not the easiest to work with. I find it tends to bitterness," Ostentatia said, her hand hovering over the platter of buns.
"That's only if you're not good enough at getting all the peel off," Ginny said, surprising Harry with her comeback.
He glanced at Ostentatia, getting a glimpse of her frosty smile. "Well, let's hope you're good enough," she said, setting two buns on the plate and slicing them in half. Harry expected the finger poke, but it looked quite a bit more vigorous than the poke that had been applied to Ella's buns.
"A bit stodgy," Ostentatia said. "Underproved. You see how it doesn't spring back? It's lacking the desired lightness."
Harry saw Ginny's lips tighten, a crack in her calm exterior that was quickly smoothed over. Impressed by her self-possession, he smiled at her, getting one in return. "It really comes down to taste, though, doesn't it?" he said, picking up the half of the dirigible plum one that his co-judge hadn't nearly put her finger through. His first bite practically melted in his mouth, the lemon in the bun complimenting the delicate sweetness of the dirigible plum perfectly. "This is …" he said, taking a second and then third bite, finishing his half of the bun. "I think that's the best Chelsea bun I've ever had."
"Adequate," Otentatia pronounced, setting down her half with a single bite taken out of it. They sampled the orange spice one next. Harry didn't think it was quite as good as the lemon and plum, but it was still quite delicious. "I think you need to take your time in the tent next time, my dear," Ostentatia said, clearly dismissing her.
Ginny nodded, acknowledging the criticism but giving nothing away before returning to her workstation. As the platter of her Chelsea buns floated past him towards the waiting PA, Harry knew that he would definitely be taking some of Ginny's buns home with him.
"Tough day, wasn't it?" Dean said. They were the only ones left in the contestant green room, getting their things.
"I don't know what you're talking about, Mr Magical Baker! You didn't get called stodgy, did you?" Ginny said, slinging her handbag over her shoulder.
Dean grinned in delight when she named him as that day's winner. "I know! I thought that Ella Stuckey was going to get it today!"
"Me, too! And her! Did you see her face when Lee announced you? That would have been a Killing Curse for sure!"
Dean's eyes went wide and he shook his head. "No! She hugged me extra hard at the end!"
"I'm just saying, you might need to think about hiring protection."
"Yeah? You think Harry Potter might be up for the job?" Dean asked, raising an eyebrow.
Ginny's face heated up and she flashed back to the smile he gave her right before the terrible judging session and the private conversation they'd had earlier. "Listen, you keep talking like that and I'll think you're the one with the crush on him," she said, hoping to get in a parting shot before she left.
"So you admit it!"
"I've admitted nothing!" Flustered, Ginny fumbled with the doorknob, finally getting the door open on her third attempt. Face flaming, she fled the room, Dean's hearty laughter following her.
"So, was granny a bit less grabby today?" Sirius asked. They were at the table in the cellar kitchen of Number Twelve, enjoying a beer after the long day.
"I don't think she laid a hand on me all day," Harry said after a long swallow of Guinness. "What did you think about the judging today? You watched it and tried the bakes, right?"
Sirius pursed his lips for a moment as he thought. "Yes. I thought the elimination of that Alfie fellow was fair. He just really seemed out of his element all day. That olive bread was hard as a rock."
"What did you think of the last bake?"
"A lot of them were nice. Alfie, well, you know."
"Did you try the dirigible plum Chelsea buns?" Harry asked. His scalp prickled when Sirius paused in raising his beer.
"Mm, yes. They were lovely. Those were Arthur's girl's, right?" A smile spread across his face. "She's quite charming, isn't she?"
Harry looked down at his bottle, spinning it in his hands. "Erm, well, I just felt that maybe the judging of her buns was a bit harsh."
"I see." Sirius finished his beer and Vanished the bottle. He stood up and stretched, letting out a loud groan. "Well, some of us aren't as young and need to get to bed." He patted Harry on the shoulder. "Sitting around and eating all day is hard work!"
"Night, Sirius." Harry heard his godfather's footsteps pause near the stairs and he turned to look at him. "Yeah?"
"You going to be around Diagon Alley tomorrow?"
"Might be, yeah. What's up?"
"There's a few things I'm low on. I'll leave you a list."
"Yeah, all right." Sirius headed up the stairs and Harry turned back around to finish his beer. When he was sure he was alone, he reached into the pocket of the jacket he had draped over the back of his chair, bringing out a small box. In the box was one perfect dirigible plum Chelsea bun.
Harry Potter Caught Canoodling With Contestant!
Britain's Most Magical Baker judge and Auror Golden Boy Harry Potter has been caught looking very cozy with one of the contestants of the show. In a blatant rejection of impartiality, our source says that he and one Ginny Weasley were spotted having an intimate chat in the judge's green room.
"Their heads were very close together and I was shocked to see it, especially since it was only the second week of competition!" our source said. "I've heard some things about that Ginny Weasley and what she got up to during her time at Hogwarts. In fact, one of her ex-boyfriends is in the competition and you can bet he's not getting any special treatment from Harry Potter!"
Our source indicated that the ex-boyfriend is none other than Dean Thomas, who took home the first Magical Baker award of the competition during cake week. Another source who was at Hogwarts with Ginny Weasley had this to say: "Oh, yeah, she left a trail of broken hearts behind her when she left school."
We can only hope that one such as her won't be able to get her hooks into one of the judges for an unfair advantage. Her bakes must stand on their own! Harry Potter, if you are reading this, we implore you to stand firm and remember your duty!