I do not own Harry Potter, the Wizarding World, or any canon characters.
A Taste of Magic
139th Course – Too Many Cooks
Harry looked around the space with an expression of wonder mixed with a hint of apprehension.
The space was called the Cuisine Capitale, or the Capital Kitchen, the biggest and grandest stage the World's Kitchen used. Since the inception of the World's Kitchen, this was the first location they used for their cooking contests. As the organization grew and as the competitions became more elaborate and diverse, the company acquired more places to have their events but the Capital Kitchen was their first and their finest as it was constantly improved upon and used as time passed. While their official kitchens did not lack for facilities and flexibility to differing degrees, the Capital was the finest and it showed.
It was a very large space with rows of seats going into the air, surrounding the main floor. The floor looked like polished marble but was safe for walking and working on. The seats were finely made and lovingly maintained with special boxes set aside for special guests. At geographical north, a large dais sat which was where the judges normally sat to cast judgement on those below.
The other equipment and set up and layout of the floor could be changed at whim and will. This was done to suit the needs of the chefs as well as to suit the nature of the challenge before them. Today for the first challenge, there were twelve stations set up all around. Each station had a stove, several counters and an oven. At the center of the space were racks of pots and pans and a plethora of plates as well as a veritable cornucopia of ingredients.
Upon arrival, Harry had been kindly welcomed by the staff of the organization and been ushered to one side. He had hugged Sirius, Andromeda, Perenelle, and Nicolas right before leaving and they gave him beaming smiles and last words of encouragement before they were led to where the watchers and guests would sit. Harry had waited in a small room by himself for a few moments, well by himself and his mounting nerves, before he was taken to the Capital Kitchen.
When he entered, he had been intimidated by the sheer scope and magnitude of the place. He could feel a presence and pressure here, much like the first time he had walked into Hogwarts. Magic was rife here, instilled deep into the stones and even the air. Portraits of past champions and past events hung in the air, constantly moving and showing off moments of history. Already there were plenty of guests and people in the stands and he felt like he was, ironically enough, on a plate before them.
He saw his family however and they waved when they saw him looking at them. That helped him feel more at ease. He took a deep breath and smiled as he realized that while this place was very large and grand, it was not as big as the Colosseum of Rome, that there were less people here than there were at the Showcase. That comparison made him feel even better.
The assistant showed him his assigned station and left him with a kind smile and another word of encouragement, something he appreciated. He set his knife roll down and started examining his station. He nodded as he familiarized himself to the stove and space. It's just another kitchen, he thought. Another place to cook. Just like any other kitchen.
"Who are you?"
He looked up and noticed that two other potential contestants had wandered over. He was immediately stuck by how unpleasant they looked. They dressed very well, their clothes crisp and pressed and sparklingly white. They looked like every professional picture of a chef that Harry had seen, the same ramrod straight back that Gabriel usually stood at. The unpleasantness was their facial features. They scowled at Harry, looking down at him despite being roughly equal heights, a combination of derision and scorn on their faces.
"Harry Potter," Harry said as politely as he could, holding his hand out. "Nice to meet you."
One of them gave him a very limp handshake while the other sniffed. "I have never heard of 'Harry Potter'," he said scathingly.
He and his companion were unprepared for Harry's sincere smile and little laugh. "You have no idea how happy that makes me actually," Harry grinned. "It's been absolutely ages since the last time someone didn't recognize my name before I met them. But it has nothing to do with cooking or the culinary world, so there's that."
The two of them looked at each other in confusion before turning back to Harry. "Where have you cooked?" the other asked. "Who is your mentor?"
"Gringotts Main One and the Hog's Head," Harry said proudly. "I've been mentored by Chef Diglin StoneHeart and Aberforth Dumbledore."
"Gringotts? Goblins?" The two others laughed nastily, making others turn and stare.
"That cannot be true, they do not cook with humans. Even then, you're a bit tall to be cooking with goblins," one sneered.
"What do they even eat? Mushrooms and grubs?" the other snorted.
Harry bristled. "They're some of the best I've ever had the pleasure of cooking with and for."
"You clearly do not have any proper experience," the former said, waving his hand dismissively.
"Easy mark then," the latter laughed. "I suppose you'll be happy you even were invited to this. Such a grand achievement for one like you." He looked at his friend. "One less person to worry about." He and his friend walked away laughing loudly.
Harry stood there, seething. He was used to people saying rude things about goblins, many magicals shared that opinion and Harry had seen it returned with equal animosity from goblins to humans and magicals in general. He knew, to a point, that his own experiences with the goblins were unique and his viewpoint was unique by consequence.
The attitudes of those two nettled him though. He knew that they did not know him nor his abilities, and he did not expect them too. But to come out so rudely and insultingly, it really bothered him. Sure, the Crew had been very standoffish with him that first summer he met them, and it had been a little difficult for him to get used to it, but in time they appreciated his abilities and mindset and accepted him as one of their own.
He would not stand idly by while those he cared very deeply about would be so insulted and disregarded.
He also noticed how the other contestants had watched the altercation with mixed interest and disinterest. A few had also looked amused, giving Harry a condescending look and they immediately wrote him off mentally. Others had ignored the exchanged, focused only on themselves. Harry also noticed that the two that had approached him were laughing with a couple others and they were making sure Harry knew he was the reason they were laughing.
"We'll see who's laughing in the end," Harry said to himself. He was now very invested in the competition in a different way, one that he had not anticipated being.
-0-
"Hmm, those two said something to bother him," Sirius murmured. He, Andromeda, and the Flamels sat fairly close to the floor, given closer seats due to coming with one of the competitors and being his close family. They had noticed the two approach Harry and after the two left, the change in Harry was noticeable even from a distance.
"His body language shifted," Andromeda agreed. "The usual competitor trash talk?"
"Maybe," Sirius mused. "But he looks annoyed and bothered."
"Do not even consider it," Perenelle said softly.
"I can hit them from here and I am fairly certain I will not be caught," Nicolas protested.
"Do not imperil Harry's chances. I am sure they would look at any excuse to disqualify him," Perenelle scolded gently. "Wait until the competition is over to have our revenge."
"Fair enough," Nicolas said easily. He smoothed his robes out. "I wonder what they said."
"Who knows," Sirius sighed. "Maybe we should've prepared him a bit more about how ugly competitions can be and what some arseholes will do."
"Aberforth has prepared him somewhat with that if I recall," Perenelle said with a small smile. "Not in competitions though. Just in general." They all snorted at that.
"Poor boy," Andromeda said softly. "Our culture is so insular and while he has participated in the Triwizard and the Showcase, those were still very different compared to this. I am worried for him."
"This is Harry," Nicolas said confidently. "He is made of tough stuff. He has endured much and is still the wonderful young man he is now. We simply need to believe in him and have faith in his abilities and support him however he needs after."
"Well said," Perenelle beamed.
Nicolas took a bottle from his robes pocket and conjured a few glasses. "Let us drink to his health and his luck."
"Are we allowed to do that here?" Andromeda asked as she accepted a glass.
"If any comes to stop me, I have my card," Nicolas said dismissively as he poured the wine.
"I need one of those," Sirius said.
"No you do not," Andromeda snorted.
-0-
A series of chimes cut through the general chatter, making people go quiet. Braziers around the edge of the ring flared into life, burning brightly and merrily as if they had been for some time. A figure appeared, apparating in with a swirl of an expansive cloak and with an explosion of lights. He was dressed in very formal robes under the cloak, a deep crimson beneath a cloak of pearl white. He was tall and his features sharp, his smile very bright and gleaming.
"Welcome, one and all, to the Rising Stars Competition!" he shouted and people applauded and cheered. "I am your host, Francis Fontaine, and will be the main announcer for the competition that has been created through a joint venture by the International Confederation of Wizards, the World's Kitchen Corporation, and with the assistance of many Ministries of Magic!"
He clapped with gloved hands, looking even more enthusiastic than the competitors and the watchers combined. "The Rising Stars is exactly how it sounds. We want to see what the best of the rising names in the culinary world can do, to see them as they grow, and in the end, one will be crowned the Star Ascendent, the first star of the rising chefs. And while only one here will attain the title, all who were invited to compete will be known as some of the brightest and with the most potential. Even being invited is no mean feat. Chefs, I applaud you."
Harry clapped along with the announcer and the watchers, noticing that very few of the others did so. Many looked like they had already received the title, confident in their skills and abilities. Harry stood a little straighter, focusing on Francis.
"There will be eight chefs who will be competing during the main competition," Francis continued. "After each challenge in the main competition, at least one chef will be eliminated with a possibility of more, leading to a finale where the best two will go head-to-head for the title. Already, the World's Kitchen committee had to weed out so many prospectives and we just could not decide among you twelve. Therefore, we decided to start things off with this special challenge."
He had the full attention of everyone there and he knew it. He threw his cloak over one shoulder and pointed dramatically with one hand. "This is your chance to prove why you belong in the competition, why you should be called a rising star. Prove your worth. Put your soul on the plate. Make the best dish that you can that you believe will secure your place here. One chance to show why you belong in the World's Kitchen."
Francis waved his wand. At the very center of the of the arena, a large marble column appeared and rose into the air. A gleaming golden hourglass sat at the top and numbers appeared around the column itself. "You have one hour and thirty minutes. Bells will toll when the sands run out and you can see what time you have left at any angle. You must prepare three dishes and you may present them when you are finished. You will then be judged and the top eight will proceed into the contest proper." He looked at all of the contestants. "Any questions."
There were none.
He clapped once and the sound was magnified, filling the arena. "Begin!"
All the contestants sprang into action. Some ran to get equipment first, others to the food. Some used their wands to summon and carry things while others piled things on trays and carried them back to their stations. The watchers clamored, cheering for their favorites.
Harry was obviously the most nervous. He had joined the rush to the food tables, his mind racing. The noise from the crowd was not the reason for his nervousness. As soon as the clap happened, it felt like the sound had driven the thoughts out of his head and he felt himself panic a little. Recipes ran through his mind like grains of sand through the hourglass and he grasped futilely for them, feeling the thoughts escape just like sand through fingers. He looked around and blanched a little seeing how focused and sure his competitors were compared to him.
"Oh no," Andromeda gasped softly. "You can do this Harry."
"We believe in you, cheri," Perenelle whispered.
Harry stood at the spot, rooted by indecision. One of the two from before bumped into him rudely as he passed, laughing coldly. Not even that bothered him too much though, caught in his rising panic. As he reached out, he felt something catch his wrist, pulling his arm short. He looked down and saw the cord from the wrist-knife catch on the shelf.
The panic subsided. He remembered his first day in Gringotts, the first time working such an intense lunch rush. He took a deep breath, then another, letting things wash over him, through him. Then he saw what was beside the knife and for the first time since arriving, he smiled.
I can do this.
He piled ingredients on a tray, swiftly but carefully going through what was available. There was plenty to go through and he amassed all he wanted. He ran past the equipment on the way back to his station, waving his wand and a series of things followed him, bouncing in the air as if eager to be used. He directed them to their spots, cleaning them as they passed with Scouring Charms, and he laid the food out on the counter.
He was wearing his dark blue Gringotts uniform, a new set made for him by the bank for the competition. His name and title lovingly embroidered on chest and sleeve. He pulled on his new apron, tying the strings tight. He pulled out the dark red bandanna with the yellow border that he received so many years ago from Arianna, his very first. Tying it securely around his head, he honed his knives swiftly and got to work. This is just another kitchen, he thought.
I'm going to do this.
"There he goes," Nicolas said proudly. "That's our boy!"
"You got this Harry!" Sirius cheered. "Show them all!"
Harry poured heavy cream into a bowl and flicked his wand, making the cream churn on its own. He swiftly chopped beef by hand and starting searing them in a hot pan with salt and pepper. As it did, he set to chopping the vegetables, rolling the carrot to make slightly irregular shapes but of even size. Potatoes were chopped as well. He minced onion, celery, and more carrots, making a small pile of them. They then went into a pan sweat in oil and a little wine after they colored and softened, along with some sliced bacon. Another wand wave set up a series of alarm charms, ones that Gabriel had taught him. As they notified him, ingredients went into a pot one by one and he poured rich brown beef stock he had found over it all, covering everything. He tied a bundle of herbs together and put it in the pot to simmer with the rest.
During all that, he had taken out the solid material from the heavily churned cream, cleaning the lumps of freshly made butter and saving the buttermilk. He salted the butter and put it in the fridge to cool and firm while blending the buttermilk he made with some already sitting out. His hands moved swiftly, mixing flour and baking soda and powder and other things with the buttermilk, creating a large round loaf. After cutting an X into the top, it was popped into the oven to bake.
Rita walked over to where the Flamels, Sirius, and Andromeda sat, joining them. She smiled brightly, adjusting her jeweled spectacles. "Our boy looks good out there," she said proudly.
"He is keeping up with them," Perenelle said proudly. "He moves very well. And he appears to be focusing only on his own work. That is good."
"I never thought anything like this would be so big," Sirius said, looking around. The stands had a large amount of people watching and chatting amongst themselves as they watched. Everyone watched with rapt attention and it was clear that many of them were people who had no immediate relation to the contestants. "It's really incredible."
"The world is very big," Nicolas said kindly. "And Wizarding Britain is learning it now, in all sorts of ways."
"It really is," Sirius murmured.
-0-
"I see some individuals beginning to plate their dishes, so now is a good time to announce the judges," Francis said. "There will be different judges at the challenges, depending on their schedules, but some are time honored judges and will judge multiple times. First among equals, is Akari Morimoto!"
A Japanese woman appeared and waved genially to the cheering crowd and sat at the judges' table at the front of the arena. She was dressed in white chef's clothes trimmed in black, her hair braided and tied up. She was joined by two others, both men. The first also wore traditional chef whites, done in the French style while the latter wore robes that were cut to look like a Muggle-style suit.
"As you all know, Chef Morimoto hails from the venerable Morimoto family in Japan, the Clan of culinary giants! She is joined by Chef Louis Ripert, who we all know owns one of the most celebrated restaurants in Paris. And last but certainly not least is Chef Anthony Banks from the United States, also owner of a flagship restaurant of international renown."
Harry looked up with the other contestants. Most looked faintly starstruck and others slightly intimidated by the three chefs on the dais. Harry had seen their names before in past magazines he had managed to get before the rising interest in recent years. Seeing them in the flesh was incredibly dizzying in positive ways as well as raising his apprehension.
"All three of our judges have competed in several competitions," Francis continued, "and many times have fought in culinary combat in World Kitchen contests and in fact, many times here in the Cuisine Capitale. They know what it is like to be a rising star and while they are at the top of the culinary world, they have not yet reached the heights of their abilities and careers. So while they know what you all are going through," he pointed dramatically at the contestants, "do not assume you will receive any leniency from them."
A collective shudder went through them.
"Now, present when you are ready," Francis said, his smile hungry in many different ways.
Harry went back to his work, wanting to do his best. He ignored those that presented before him, fully focused on his cooking. He tasted the stew, nodding to himself as he enjoyed the taste of the thick broth that was rich with herb and a bit of gelatin, making it silky. It was not as thick as it would be from a long simmer, but the shank meat had released enough gelatin to make the stew thick and glossy enough. The larger chopped vegetables maintained their shape and were cooked just enough where they still had texture, but had absorbed the sauce well. The meat was soft and chewy while also maintaining their meaty texture. The soda bread had a crunchy crust and a soft crumb. The home-made butter was perfectly salty and melted just right as he spread it on the bread. He carefully filled three bowls and put slices of bread alongside them, and carried them carefully to the platform.
"And our next prospective candidate, who is also the youngest here, is Harry Potter!" Francis announced warmly, flashing Harry a cheery and warm smile. "Tell us what you made if you please."
Harry gulped a little, suddenly under the direct attention of the three chefs, not to mention the host and the others watching in the arena. Those who already presented watched too while the ones still cooking and finishing ignored what was going on, still focused on their work. Harry took a deep breath and tried to look somewhat confident. He saw his family and Rita to the side and straightened when they waved and cheered, feeling better.
"I made a beef stew with Irish soda bread and homemade butter," Harry said. "I took the shank meat off the bone and seared it before chopping it smaller to let it cook a little faster. I also roasted the bone to give it some flavor and took it out of the stock but there is enough gelatin to give the stew some body."
Akari sipped the stew without any solid ingredients first before eating the meat and the vegetables. "Very good flavor for a shorter period of time," she said. "I assume you typically let it cook longer?"
"Yes Chef," Harry said. "But I was happy with how it came out.
"You started with a mirepoix?" Louis asked, looking at Harry.
"No Chef, a matignon," Harry said. "I minced the vegetables and cooked it with bacon and wine, I wanted their sweetness in the stew and the salt and flavor from the bacon as a base."
"Well said," Lous said with approval.
"Fine work with homemade butter," Anthony said, chewing on a slice of bread. "There was plenty of butter already made."
"I recently learned how to do it by hand and liked it," Harry smiled. "And you need buttermilk for the soda bread, but homemade doesn't have the same quality of usual buttermilk but I really like to blend the two for a little extra flavor."
"Where are you from?" Akari asked all of a sudden, looking at Harry with interest. "I have not heard your name before." She took a slip of paper from Francis. "You are from Britain?" she said, looking surprised.
"Yes Chef," Harry said.
"I thought they did not care much for cooking and things of that nature," she mused. "For quite some time now."
"I'm a little odd that way," Harry said sheepishly but felt better when the judges chuckled kindly.
"You have branched out some it seems as well," she said. "The way you cut your vegetables, that is a rangiri cut. That is a Japanese technique."
"I've had the honor of learning about Japanese cuisine and techniques from a friend who attends Mahoutokoro," Harry said happily. "I really like how the vegetables look with that so I use it a lot now."
"And some French techniques as well," Louis said appraisingly, "as you have demonstrated with the matignon."
"So why a beef stew?" Anthony asked. "It's a bit pedestrian for a competition like this."
Harry took a deep breath. "Mr. Fontaine said we needed to put our soul on the plate, to prove our worth. Beef stew was the first thing complicated dish I made when I was a child. It was how I came to like cooking at all." He looked down for a moment and the judges and the host peered at him closely. The watchers looked on with rapt attention, hanging off his words.
"I have a lot of complicated feelings about beef stew to be honest," Harry said. "It used to be a source of comfort, then it became something painful, and then something new and different. I've made many different versions and well, I feel like it's something there through the big moments of my life."
He let out a heavy sigh but straightened. "So I wanted to make it here because it is something I am proud of, and to see it here as it is now being so different from how I first made it, is something I can be proud to share."
The judges looked at him soberly. "Thank you for your effort and your dish," Akari said kindly.
Harry nodded and left the dais on slightly shaky legs, releasing another sigh of relief and was startled by the applause from the watchers.
"What was that about?" Rita asked softly. "I've always loved his beef stews but I never knew the history behind it. He never shared but I never pried."
"I think I have an idea," Sirius said grimly, an expression shared by Andromeda and the Flamels. "Another time."
"How do you think his chances are?" Andromeda asked.
"I still think good," Rita said, turning calculating. "I've eaten around at different places leading up to this and I still think Harry's cooking is really special."
"I agree," Nicolas said. "And he performed professionally and well up there, even the dumbest and blindest of judges could see."
"He will succeed," Perenelle said confidently.
-0-
"And now, the moment we all have been waiting for," Francis said and the crowd immediately went silent, waiting with anticipation. "The dishes have been presented, the judges have conferred, and the elite eight have been chosen! I will now announce them in no particular order."
He flourished his wand and a large wooden sign was conjured into being. It floated above the judges' dais, looking polished and gleaming in the light. He pointed at it with his wand and as he spoke, letters were etched into the wood, carved by unseen chisel. "Celine Beaufort, Gwendolyn Graves, Mael Abadie-"
Lights appeared over the contestants as their names were called. Most celebrated obviously, punching the air or clenching their fists and smiling, exclaiming from delight. Others looked cool and reserved, as if unsurprised of their selection. People in the crowd cheered and shouted as the ones they supported were chosen.
"-Katio Sakai, Alexander Walt, Aldo Russo, Claude Boucher-"
As the number of names reached eight, the remaining uncalled contestants began to look anxious, eyes flickering between the board and Francis and the judges. Harry looked on, heart pounding, unsure of what would happen and also unsure of what he wanted to happen.
"-and last but not least, Harry Potter!" Francis finished. Harry's name was the last to be etched and when it was done, the entire board turned to stone and lights shone bright upon it. "Ladies and Gentleman, we have the contestants for the Rising Stars Competition!"
Perenelle, Andromeda, and Rita shrieked and shouted while Nicolas and Sirius roared loudly with approval. Applause rained down and while some in the crowd looked disappointed at the absence of their champion, the applause was sincere and energetic.
Harry gaped at the board, blinking hard, making sure his name was truly up there and realizing he did in fact hear it.
"Thank you all for coming and for those that did not make the final cut, do not feel discouraged. Your dishes were exemplary but today, the others were even more so," Francis said kindly to the crestfallen four. "We will be sure to see you again in future competitions. The first challenge will take place in six weeks' time and the contestants will get a clue a week in advance on what to expect. Thank you all for coming and I know that this will be the finest competition the World's Kitchen will have ever had!"
"You!"
Harry turned and was confronted by the first two that had approached before the contest had started. One of them had been chosen to participate, Mael, while the other had not. They both looked furious, especially the one who had not been chosen. "Who are you?!" he shouted, incensed.
"Harry Potter, like I said," Harry said, riding the adrenaline and feeling very nettled at being shouted at like that.
"How did you defeat me?! You are some no name peasant from a backwards island of terrible food!" the man shouted. "It is impossible that you have been chosen and I have not! You must have cheated."
"They watched us cook," Claude sniffed, another of the chosen. "And you know that there are anti-cheating charms about."
"Shut up, I was not speaking to you," the man said angrily. He glared at Harry. "Explain yourself! How did your swill beat my dish?"
"You'll have to ask the judges," Harry said, frowning back. "They made the decision, not me."
"How did you know those techniques," Mael said accusingly. "You have no experience, did not work at any place of actual significance. You must have been chosen out of pity, to be used as a mascot for the competition."
"You said you were from Britain?" Celine looked at Harry with a sharp expression.
"Yes," Harry said, glancing at her.
"How old are you?" she asked.
"Seventeen, why?" Harry replied.
"I was beaten by a child?!" the man shouted once more. "Impossible!"
"You were taught by Chef Robuchon," Celine said, her eyes widening.
"What?!" All of the contestants looked at Harry with shock.
"A Robuchon?!" Claude gasped.
"Chef Gabriel Robuchon," Harry said. "I had the honor to be taught by him several times.
"You did not say he was your mentor," Mael said angrily.
"I don't know if I have the right to call him that," Harry spat back. "I don't take liberties like that!"
"Is there a problem?" Francis walked over and while he still smiled, it was a hard one that did not reach his eyes. "Is there a reason that you all are harassing one of the competitors?"
"He should not be in the competition," the man snarled.
"So you believe you are a better judge then Chef Morimoto, Ripert, and Banks?" Francis asked mildly, making the man pale. "Would you like to go speak to them and see why you have failed and why Mister Potter did not fail?"
"N-no," the man stammered.
"Are you sure? I can ask them to stay and explain it to you in detail," Francis asked.
"No, no Sir," the man mumbled. "That will not be necessary."
Francis looked coolly at them and the other three who lost did not say a word. Mael averted his eyes and some of the others looked slightly nervous. "I understand emotions are high," Francis said finally. "For the ones who lost, take pride having tried your best and there is a good chance you will be invited to a future competition. To the ones that have been selected, congratulations. Celebrate your achievements and we will look forward to your performance in the future." He stared at them as they dispersed before turning to Harry. His gaze softened slightly. "Are you well?"
"Yes Sir," Harry said slightly truthfully, calming down. "Thank you."
"Your first competition I understand?" Francis asked.
"Official one, as in, not against friends for fun," Harry nodded.
Francis nodded too, looking sympathetic. "Bullying and underhanded things will not be tolerated at the World's Kitchen."
"Thank you, Sir."
Francis nodded again and turned to leave. As he did, he stopped and looked at Harry. "A word of advice?"
"I'd love some," Harry said wholly honestly.
"What happens in here, matters to a degree," Francis said, gesturing to the kitchen stations. "What matters the most is here," he pointed at his heart, "and here." He pointed at a clean plate on the counter.
"That's why you said to put our soul on the plate," Harry said.
Francis smiled warmly. "Precisely, Mister Potter. I look forward to seeing how far you will go and how well you will do. Your stew and bread smelled wonderfully."
"I still have some here if you like," Harry offered. "You can take it."
He paused. "I am no judge, formal that is."
"I don't care, I like to feed people," Harry replied.
Francis looked at him for a moment longer before smiling once more. "Then I accept. Thank you, Mister Potter." He took the last of the stew and the bread and left.
By then, the Flamels, Andromeda, Sirius, and Rita got to him and he was hugged soundly. "Congratulations cheri!" Perenelle nearly shouted, kissing him.
"Who gave you the most trouble?" Nicolas asked, frowning at the other contestants. "I will ruin them. After the competition of course so that there is no talk of sabotage. Just honest revenge."
"I can handle them," Harry said, hugging him gratefully. "I think."
"You will," Sirius said proudly. "You did so good Harry and stood your ground. That's proper spirit and grit."
"I can't believe I made it in," Harry said. The conflict was fading and the obvious enthusiasm and joy from the others was infectious. He was feeling much better now.
"A grand first start," Andromeda smiled, hugging him.
"And remember, you're going to do great and remember, no matter how you actually do, it will be great," Rita added.
Basking in their confidence and joy and happiness made Harry feel even better and he let himself be fully immersed in it.
-0-0-0-
alix33 - Diglin is one of my favorite OCs if I'm being honest. Hedwig can totally be the girl prefect for Gryffindor. She fits the criteria.
TheSphynx - Hope you like the beginning of things today. I'm pretty happy with how his different relationships feel too.
Hands Off MY Wolfie - Wings for cuffing and flapping and chasing, beak for nipping and pecking and shrieking. She's the best. We will see his and the Crew's future. Thanks for reading.
odonnellzoo99 - There will be a funny bit soon about your first point, as you see in today's chapter and one coming up. Hedwig loves shiny things and accessories, can you blame her? And any chance to cause a little chaos, Parvati is all about it.
DOOOOOOM Lord of Waffles - Hope today's chapter lives up to your expectations. I was giggling the entire time I wrote the sausage roll and hot dog scene. It was too funny.
poka - Yup, take care of your tools and they'll take care of you. That joke was so dumb and I was so happy to write it in. I remembered a scene from an old episode of A Cook's Tour with Anthony Bourdain and there was a line about presenting things well and he described a hot dog in French and this was my homage to that and him. I do like Parvati a lot in this setting. She really became a whole rounded character.
DarkRavie - Thank you.
61394 - Hope you like this update and the start of things.
- Thank you very much.