A/N:

Hi, new chapter!

Thank you so much for all of the positive reactions to last chapter. We're back to lighter fare with this one ;)

Idea credits at the end of the chapter. Thanks for reading!

Daphne was reading in the Slytherin common room before bed when a particularly interesting conversation caught her attention.

"Ugh!" Millicent Bulstrode whined. "I want to get his attention, but I don't know how! I know I'm not pretty, and I'm not exactly a prime example of femininity either…"

"Maybe we can, like, help you with your makeup?" Tracey Davis suggested. "Or, like, teach you how to be more feminine?"

"Really?" Millicent replied. "Would that even work?"

"Like, maybe?" Tracey offered.

Pansy Parkinson got involved in the conversation by scoffing loudly from across the room. "Nah, none of that matters. You won't get his attention that way."

The other two girls perked up. Rumor had it that Pansy was quite popular with the boys, and if she could provide some input, it might really help.

"So how can I get his attention?" Millicent asked hopefully.

Daphne still wasn't sure who the 'he' was in this conversation because she had been rather focused on her book up until now, but she was slightly intrigued to hear what Pansy had to say nonetheless.

"Every man is the same," Pansy said dismissively. "You pull one, you can pull them all. It's really easy, to be honest."

Tracey was starting to get impatient. "Okay, so like, just tell us already! What do we- I mean, what does Millie need to do to attract him?"

Her bait taken, Pansy smiled satisfactorily.

"Make him food."

Tracey and Millie looked over at her, disappointment clear in their features.

"Seriously, that's it?" Millicent asked. "There's no way that'll work…"

Pansy shrugged, still wearing that self-assured smirk. "It always works for me. It's like they say; 'the way to a man's heart is through his stomach.' Cook him something he'll never forget and he'll always come back begging for more. Besides, wizards these days are so accustomed to house elves doing all the cooking that when a witch does it for them they feel all warm and fuzzy inside."

Tracey glanced over at Millie. "Like, maybe it's worth a try?"

"I guess it wouldn't hurt…" she agreed.

A short while later, all three girls left the common room and headed towards the dorms to sleep. Daphne remained behind for a few minutes longer, processing her newly-acquired information.

Printing Thought Sequence: Cooking for a man will make him love you? How very interesting…

"Harry, I made you cookies."

Harry Potter looked up from where he was eating breakfast in the Great Hall and saw his girlfriend standing before him with a little bag of cookies.

He raised his eyebrows in surprise. "Cookies? How did you make those?"

Daphne stared back at him blankly. "First I whisked together two cups of all-purpose flour, one teaspoon of baking soda, one and a half-"

"Oh, no, that's not what I meant," Harry interrupted, realizing he hadn't chosen his words very well. "I mean, where did you find all of the ingredients? And for that matter, where did you find an oven?"

"Ah," Daphne replied. "I requisitioned the ingredients from the Hogwarts house elves by leaving a note next to my pillow, and I baked them using a spell I recently learned that mimics the effects of a conventional oven."

Harry's eyebrows raised even further; that seemed like a lot of work.

"So, you just felt like making cookies?" he asked skeptically.

"There were various motives," Daphne replied vaguely. "But that is unimportant."

"Okay…"

"More importantly, please try a cookie."

Harry looked down at his toast, and then back up at the bag of cookies. "Daphne, it's still morning-"

"Please try a cookie," she insisted. "I want you to never forget it and then always come back begging for more."

Harry was starting to get a general idea of what was going on, and while he didn't really feel like eating a chocolate chip cookie while the taste of toast and sausage was still in his mouth, he loved Daphne and was willing to take one for the team. He dipped his hand into the proffered bag, pulled out a cookie, and took a big bite.

Possible Emotion Detected: Confidence

Of all the things a robot needed, modesty wasn't one of them. Daphne knew her cookies were amazing, because how couldn't they be? She had parsed through countless recipes in her database, combining the best elements of each one into the perfect chocolate chip cookie recipe, and then followed each step down to the precise millisecond, taking advantage of the accuracy only a robot could-

"They're great," Harry declared, nodding in satisfaction. "As expected from you, Daphne. You're good at everything."

Whirrrrr

"Does this mean you love me now?" she asked.

"Um, what? Of course I love you…I'm pretty sure we already established that a long time ago."

Whirrrrr

"Perhaps, but I still like to hear it as often as poss-"

"Hey Harry!" Ron Weasley cut in, slamming a box down on the table. "I need your thoughts on the latest dessert I made, if you don't mind."

The rudely interrupted couple stared for a moment at Ron, and then down at the box between them.

"What is this?" Daphne asked.

"They're chocolate eclairs," Ron explained. "I was telling Harry about them the other day when we were down in the kitchens, but it took me a while to perfect my recipe. Anyway, I think they're good now, so I wanted his opinion."

Daphne looked to Harry, feeling somewhat betrayed. "You frequent the kitchens with Ron?"

Harry looked to Daphne, feeling somewhat guilty. "Ron's a really good cook, and he often asks me for help tasting dishes…"

"I see."

Ron looked at them expectantly, so with only a bit of hesitation, Harry reached into the box and pulled out an eclair. He had already eaten half of his breakfast and a chocolate chip cookie, so he wasn't really in the mood for more sweets, but he was willing to help his friend out regardless.

He took a bite out of it and all of his hesitation instantly melted away.

"Delicious!" he said. "The choux pastry is perfectly crispy, and the vanilla diplomat cream inside has a subtle, yet refined flavor. Is that rose water I'm tasting?"

"It sure is!" Ron nodded happily. "And there's a hint of cardamom too."

"Brilliant!"

Possible Emotion Detected: Shame

As Daphne watched this exchange take place, she took another look at her sad, plain, boring chocolate chip cookies. No matter how she looked at it, Ron had one-upped her.

"May I try a piece?" Daphne asked eventually, wanting to know what she was up against.

"Of course," Harry said, handing her the rest of the eclair he had been eating. "It's really good, I think you'll like it."

As Daphne chewed, she decided that she hated it.

And the reason she hated it is because she loved it.

Printing Thought Sequence: This is so much better than my cookie!? Is this not a total victory for Ronald Weasley!?

Daphne turned sharply to look at the aforementioned redhead. She scanned him from head to toe, and reassessed his threat level.

Threat Detected: Ronald Weasley

Danger Evaluation: 0.01

Ron just stood there with an awkward, kind of lame smile on his face.

She couldn't believe this was what she had lost to.

"Cooking has been Ron's biggest passion for pretty much his whole life," Harry said awkwardly, feeling the need to explain himself for some reason.

"I see," she replied curtly, turning back to him. "Very well; I will excuse myself for now. Have fun, the two of you."

Harry and Ron watched as Daphne calmly stood from the table and walked away, her loafers making a soft yet menacing click clack noise on the floor as she went. When she cleared the doors of the Great Hall and disappeared from their line of sight, Ron turned to Harry with a distressed look on his face.

"Uh, did we do something wrong?"

"I don't think so…?"

Ron frowned. "Then why do you look so stressed?"

"Call it an instinct for trouble."

Daphne gently closed the door to her room.

Printing Thought Sequence: AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!

More than (almost) anything else, Daphne hated losing. And today, she had clearly lost.

Not only had she lost, but she lost against Ronald Weasley, who up until now she had been sure was one of those affable yet rather vapid and useless humans that could be found anywhere. How could she, an expertly crafted robot, be a worse cook than someone like that?

The answer was, she couldn't be.

Or if she was at the moment, she wouldn't be for long. There was nothing her advanced cerebral processor couldn't master, and gastronomy would fall to its knees before her like everything else that came before it.

Tying up her hair, and then casting a quick spell to hide the wind-up she had apparently forgotten to conceal that morning, Daphne got to work.

The next morning, Harry was sitting with Ron and some of the other Gryffindors at breakfast, as he hadn't seen Daphne since the previous day. While this wasn't normally especially concerning, Harry had certain suspicions as to what was keeping her so busy.

"And then," Ron continued, finishing his story to the group, "all my problems with Lavender were fixed! Harry's weird advice really worked; he's a love genius!"

"Wow…" everyone exclaimed in unison, looking at Harry with wide eyes.

"Hey," Seamus Finnigan interjected, speaking to Harry. "If you're that good with love advice, can you help set me up with-"

Seamus never got the chance to finish his sentence as the doors to the Great Hall burst open, and everyone's attention was redirected. Sweeping through the hall with such confidence that she could've been a queen strutting through her own palace, Daphne Greengrass walked directly up to the Gryffindor table and stopped in front of the group.

"Harry, I made you a mille-feuille."

She placed a little box with the stated pastry down on the table in front of him, and everyone peered down at it. It was a delicate affair decorated with strawberries and aesthetic embellishments, with an elegant ring of strawberry cream surrounding it.

Harry looked up at Daphne, impressed. "You made this?"

"Yes. Now please eat it."

"But Daphne, I haven't even finished my toast-"

"Eat it now, Harry."

Reluctantly, he found a clean fork and mentally readied himself to spend his second morning in a row eating dessert.

At first bite, all of his trepidations about eating sweets at breakfast disappeared.

"This is incredible, Daphne!" he exclaimed. "I can tell that this puff pastry is homemade, and the verbena leaf adds a subdued citrusy element that really brings out the taste of the strawberries!"

Whirrrrr

"Hey," Dean whispered to the boy next to him. "Did you hear that noise?"

"What noise?"

"Ah, nevermind."

Before Harry could finish the dessert, Ron stopped him.

"Harry," he started. "Do you mind if I try a piece?"

Harry looked at Daphne, and she gave him a quick nod.

"I don't mind," he said, breaking off the bottom of the pastry for his friend.

The moment the perfectly crafted mille-feuille hit his tongue, Ron knew he had lost. He wasn't sure how she did it, but that sweet, refined taste simply outclassed the eclair he made yesterday ten times over. In fact, Ron didn't even realize there were winners and losers when it came to cooking until just now.

But he could tell this wasn't just a mille-feuille; it was a declaration of war.

"I see how it is," Ron said, turning to Daphne.

"Then you see that you are outmatched?"

"Never."

Harry looked back and forth between them. "Wait, what? What's going on?"

Without replying, Ron got up from the table and stormed off. Harry turned to Daphne looking for answers, but she simply took Ron's place next to him and started eating her breakfast as if nothing had happened.

Ron Weasley made his way down to the Hogwarts kitchen, his face set in determination.

He was no stranger to losing; he had spent the majority of his life doing just that. His grades were always worse than Percy's, he didn't have the cunning business minds of Fred and George, and he didn't have Charlie's charisma either. Even Ginny had a certain unshakable resolve that set her apart from her brothers, but for a long time, Ron had nothing.

It was only shortly after his tenth birthday that Ron discovered his unprecedented culinary prodigy, and was finally able to build back up the self-esteem that had been crushed by growing up with talented siblings. Ever since then, he took great solace in knowing that he finally had something that would separate him from everyone else.

All this to say, while Ron normally didn't mind losing, he wouldn't let his cooking lose to anyone.

"Young chef Ronald Weasley!" Dobby cried excitedly as Ron entered the kitchen. "Will Harry Potter be joining today as well?"

"Not today, Dobby," Ron replied. "Today it's just me."

While Dobby was disappointed to learn that the young wizard who saved him all those years ago from his cruel master wouldn't be present this morning, he liked Ron almost just as much. Ron was very polite when he came down to the kitchens, and was always eager to learn from the house elves; a trait very few other wizards possessed.

The house elf was about to continue his work when he noticed the troubled expression on Ron's face.

"Dobby can see that Ronald Weasley has been shaken today," he started. "Would Ronald Weasley like to talk to Dobby about it?"

"I lost," Ron replied absently, setting up the materials he would need in one of the open spaces in the kitchen. "For the first time in my life, my cooking lost."

Dobby nodded sagely. "It happens to everyone, young chef Ronald Weasley. But be grateful; it is these moments that we learn from the most. Let those painful emotions inspire you to further your craft, and grow from them."

Ron took a deep breath to calm himself. What Dobby was saying probably made sense, but he was too stubborn to be receptive to it at the moment.

Instead, he tied up his apron and narrowed his eyes in concentration.

"Nah, I'd win."

When Harry watched Ron walk into the Great Hall the next morning with a little pastry box in his hands, he let out a groan. He had spent the past two days with a stomachache from eating rich desserts first thing in the morning, and wasn't particularly looking forward to making it three.

"Harry, try these," the boy said, gracelessly throwing the box on the table. "It's the best dessert you've ever eaten."

Harry looked down at the box. "Do I have to?"

"Yes," Daphne answered from beside him.

Sighing, Harry opened up the box. His eyes widened in surprise as he took in the sight of the colorful french macarons, their shades shifting before his very eyes.

"Macarons?" Harry asked. "Can't I eat them later?"

"No," Ron replied firmly. "I'm not sure if my enchantments will last that long."

"My mille-feuille did not require enchantments," Daphne mentioned.

Harry turned to look at his girlfriend, and for the first time realized that he might have gotten himself caught in the middle of a sweet-making rivalry.

Giving up, he reached into the box and pulled out a macaron.

Here goes nothing, he thought, and put it in his mouth.

Harry danced through fields of strawberries, laughing as he bounced up to a tree and collected a ripe, delicious peach from its branches.

After a time, Daphne joined him, and they frolicked together.

"Where are we?" Harry asked.

"Somewhere magical," she replied.

"I never want to leave," he said.

"Me neith-"

Harry and Daphne finished their macarons and got a hold of themselves.

"That was so amazing I almost felt like I went somewhere else for a moment!" Harry exclaimed.

"I will admit to feeling the same way," Daphne conceded.

Ron smirked. "That's what good food will do to you. So, was it the best dessert you've ever eaten?"

Harry was forced to nod. "I've never tasted anything like it. How did you manage to pack so much fruity flavor into those macarons?"

"I spent all night developing a spell that can condense an entire fruit's worth of juice into a single drop. I had to be careful not to overwhelm the base taste of the almond cookie, but with that I was able to evenly mix various fruits into each macaron without changing its structure."

Possible Emotion Detected: Speechless

Printing Thought Sequence: How did he possibly come up with that? I have never read about that idea in any gastronomy journal, be it muggle or magical!

"Incredible," was all Harry could say. "You've definitely outdone yourself this time, Ron."

Ron smiled and turned to Daphne. "So, do you give up? Will you admit now that I'm the better chef?"

"Guys, do we really have to compete over this?" Harry asked. "Cooking should be about having fun, not-"

"I will never give up," Daphne said. "But tomorrow, we will finish this once and for all. Bring your best treat, and may the best pâtissière win."

Ron scoffed. "You won't stand a chance."

"Okay, whatever, but leave me out of this," Harry said. "I've had enough of eating dessert at breakfast."

"But you have to decide who wins!" Ron protested.

"I will never get closure if you do not," Daphne added.

Harry sighed. "Okay, fine. But after tomorrow, you guys have to promise to stop this silly competition you've got going!"

"We promise," they said simultaneously.

That day, Ron skipped the rest of his classes to spend time in the kitchen, working on a dish that would without a doubt top anything Daphne could make. The girl wouldn't have challenged him if she didn't think she could beat his macarons, so whatever he made would have to be even more impressive than that.

"If Dobby may suggest something," Dobby started, approaching Ron. "Young chef Ronald Weasley might find better luck with a different focus. A bit of friendly competition sometimes is fine, but cooking isn't about winning. It's about lo-"

"Don't worry, I've got her on the ropes with this one Dobby," Ron replied, working on the final touches. "This is my greatest creation to date."

Dobby peeked over Ron's shoulder, and his massive eyes widened even further.

Perhaps Ron didn't need his advice after all.

Daphne headed to the impromptu baking setup in her room right after class that day, wanting to get an early start on preparations for her battle tomorrow.

Possible Emotion Detected: Nervousness

Printing Thought Sequence: Those macarons were incredible, and yet I can tell Ronald still has more to show… How can I possibly hope to defeat him?

She toiled late into the night, and while she created many impressive dishes, she just knew none of them would be enough to beat Ron.

Possible Emotion Detected: Concern

Simulating Physiological Response…

Daphne's gears shifted around uncomfortably in her chest as she considered the possibility of losing to Ron. If Pansy was right, and the way to a man's heart really was through their stomach, her loss would mean Ron forever holding leverage in the eternal contest for Harry's love.

She couldn't let that happen.

Printing Thought Sequence: I can not lose…I still have one resource left at my disposal. The power Ronald knows not.

Harry didn't even bother eating breakfast that morning as he waited for Ron and Daphne to present their sweets to him.

I really need to lay off the sugar after this, Harry thought. I felt like I was flying slower than usual at practice yesterday…

Soon enough, the doors to the Great Hall opened, revealing the two people Harry was waiting for.

"Alright," Harry said once Ron and Daphne approached. "Let's do this. But remember what I said yesterday – we're done after this!"

Ron smirked. "Oh, trust me. We'll definitely be done after this. Once you taste what I made, there won't be a question left as to who's the best."

"We will see about that," Daphne said.

Ron carefully placed a plate down on the table with a cover over top of it, hiding the contents within. He turned to them, and with nods to communicate their readiness, Ron revealed his masterpiece.

Harry and Daphne were left totally speechless as they took in the dessert's form. It was a beautifully sculpted leafless tree made out of chocolate, with some sort of edible shrubbery laced around it like bushes. To complete the image, enchanted powdered sugar fell atop the branches, leaving a dusting of white like freshly fallen snow.

"I call it 'The Winter Tree'," Ron said. "It's the pinnacle of my craft. Now dig in, both of you."

"It's almost too pretty to eat," Harry muttered.

"It would be more of a waste not to eat it," Ron replied smugly. "It tastes even better than it looks."

Skeptical, but nonetheless interested, Harry took his fork and broke the trunk of the tree. The inside of the chocolate bark revealed some sort of raspberry gel, and making sure he got a bit of everything at the same time, he lifted it into his mouth.

The flavors bursting forth immediately hit him like a truck, and there was no question left in his mind that this was the greatest dessert he had ever eaten. As beautiful as the presentation was, the combination of tastes and textures in his mouth was even better, just as Ron said.

"Wonderful," Harry said. "Really wonderful, Ron. I don't have anything else to say."

From beside him, Daphne nodded. "It is a delicious dessert, Ron."

"So I've won?"

"Not as such," she replied. "I believe this will be my win, in the end."

Ron laughed nervously. "Seriously? You've tried my dessert and you still think that? What could you have possibly brought?"

Daphne reached into her backpack, pulling out a little brown paper bag. "Chocolate chip cookies."

This time when Ron laughed, it was full of humor and confidence. "Are you joking? You think you can beat me with a cookie?"

"I do not make a habit of joking," she replied. "Now, if you will Harry, please try a cookie."

Shrugging, Harry dutifully picked up a cookie and took a big bite.

As Harry's brain registered the taste of the cookie, he felt himself get thrown back to an earlier time, many years ago.

He had been nervous to leave his siblings behind and go to Hogwarts. Not only for their sakes, but for his own as well. He loved his family, and the thought of spending the better part of his life for the next seven years away from them scared him deeply. There were even times when he considered rejecting his acceptance letter and going to a muggle school just to avoid leaving home.

"Harry," his mom said one day, noticing his internal strife. "You're scared to go to school, aren't you?"

Harry nodded, embarrassed.

"There's nothing to be ashamed of, sweetie," his mom said, pulling him into a hug. "It's normal to be afraid. But why don't you go and give it a try anyway? You can always come back home if you don't like it."

He looked up at her. "You and dad won't be disappointed if I leave Hogwarts?"

Lily smiled back down at him. "Of course not, Harry. Me and dad will always be on your side, no matter what you choose. Okay?"

"Okay mom."

A single tear ran down Harry's cheek as he swallowed the cookie.

"Beautiful," he whispered.

"What?" Ron asked, looking at Harry concernedly. "What do you mean? And why are you crying?"

"Try the cookie, Ronald," Daphne said. "Try the cookie and you will understand."

Ron looked at one of the remaining cookies skeptically, but nonetheless did as he was told.

As Ron's brain registered the taste of the cookie, he felt himself get thrown back to an earlier time, many years ago.

By ten years old, Ron had already developed a pretty strong inferiority complex. His other siblings all had things they were good at, and Ron felt like the runt of the litter in more ways than one.

Desperate not to lose the affection of his parents despite his self-proclaimed worthlessness, he always tried to help out with chores around the house. Normally, he would just clean up the dishes after his mom cooked dinner, but today he decided he would try to help with the meal itself.

"Mummy, can I help?" Ron asked, pulling at Molly's apron.

"Of course!" she replied, glad that her son was trying to be helpful. "Why don't you try this sauce and tell me if it's good."

Molly Weasley didn't trust her youngest son not to hurt himself chopping ingredients or burn himself on the stove, so she settled with a simple task that had no real stakes involved.

Ron licked the sauce off the spoon she handed him and thought.

"A little more salt, smoked paprika, and rosemary please," he said. "Also, dry brine the beef before you braise it next time, and make sure to leave it in the pot for a little longer before adding your liquid; you didn't give it enough time for the Maillard reaction to form. Anyway, about thirty minutes left and the sauce will be done, but no more than that or it'll reduce too much."

Molly looked down at her son in shock. "Ron? Where did you learn all of that?"

The little boy shrugged. "The cooking mags, I guess."

A single tear ran down Ron's cheek as he swallowed the cookie.

"Beautiful," he whispered. "But how? How could I have possibly lost?"

Daphne took a small amount of delight in her victory against the boy, but she respected his talent and chose not to gloat.

"It is simple, Ronald. While your dessert was undoubtedly superior to mine on a technical level, and would perhaps sell better in a restaurant, it still lacked a crucial element of cooking that even I underestimated until last night."

"What is it?" Ron asked, and Harry perked up too, intrigued.

Daphne set a hand atop Harry's.

"It is love."

"Love?" Ron exclaimed. "What does that have to do with anything?"

"When you made your 'tree', you were likely consumed with the idea of creating the best dish possible. As I made my cookies, I thought about the love I held for the boy that I was making them for. Ultimately, the most important ingredient in cooking is the feeling that goes into it, not the fancy skills, or the immaculate technique."

Ron took several moments to process that.

"I think I understand now, Daphne," he said. "And thank you for everything. I'll see you guys later, I have to go find Lavender."

The couple watched Ron walk away in silence.

Eventually, Harry sighed.

"So, can I stop eating desserts now?" he asked. "I genuinely feel like I've gained weight over the past few days."

"It is a small matter," Daphne replied. "You have only gained 5.3lbs since Monday."

"Wait, what!? I have?"

"Yes, but it is no cause for concern. You are still in good health, and I will never mind how much you weigh."

No wonder I've been flying slower lately! Harry thought to himself. I seriously need to lay off the sweets from now on!

Later that day, Harry walked through the hallways on his way back from a particularly arduous quidditch practice. In an effort to burn off the calories he had been rampantly consuming that week, he ran every drill he could think of, and even added a physical conditioning workout after for good measure.

He was about to enter the Gryffindor tower for a well-deserved shower when a voice stopped him.

"Um, Harry!"

He turned around and saw Millicent Bulstrode, a Slytherin girl from his year that he had spoken to a few times in class standing behind him.

"I baked you a cake, if you'd be willing to accept it!"

Harry blinked a few times. Was some higher power mocking him?

"Uh, sorry Millicent, I'm on a pretty strict diet right now."

"Oh, okay…"

Harry slipped past the door, leaving Millicent alone in the hallway.

After a second, Tracey Davis nervously stepped past the corner she was hiding behind and joined her friend.

"Like, sorry about that," she told the rejected girl. "I guess Pansy was like, wrong or something."

Millicent shook her head. "I knew it was a long shot…he already has a girlfriend, after all."

"True. Like, maybe you should go after a boy that doesn't already have a girlfriend next time."

"I guess so," she sighed. "Anyway, what are we going to do with this cake?"

"Like, it's still a good cake right? We should totally just eat it ourselves."

With that, the girls headed back to their dorm, washing down the bitter regrets of young love with the sweet taste of chocolate cake.

"Caleb, I made you more fishsticks!"

"Meow!"

Pansy crouched on the ground, feeding her familiar. She knew she could've bought cat treats at the store instead of making them herself, but she wanted only the best for her little darling, and couldn't bear the thought of feeding him that over-processed junk.

"Boys can't be that different from cats, can they?" she wondered aloud. "Maybe I should follow my own advice and try to get a boyfriend one of these days…"

Ultimately, the girl talked a big game with her friends, but she actually had no experience with boys to speak of, and spent most of her days talking to her little black cat alone in her room.

"I wonder if boys like fishsticks?"

"Meow…"

A/N:

Did you like this chapter? I guess this is the kind of fic where some chapters will hit and others will miss, and I really don't know how I feel about this one. But I've written 10k+ words over the past couple weeks for this fic and deleted almost all of it because I didn't like it, so I just wanted to post something before I got caught in a posting paralysis. Anyway, idea credits:

Chronolocked: Make Ron inherit his mother's cooking skills and crank them up to 12, setting him up to become a famous chef in the wizarding world.

P.S. - If you care, I'd be really curious to know what people are looking for from my next fic. I've started a couple ideas, but I'm still unsure what will get prioritized next. More comedy/fluff like my other fics, or something more serious? Lemme know if you want :)