"There's nothing wrong with the candy itself. It's just that its effects were a little beyond my expectations—but that doesn't matter," Allen explained calmly to the visibly nervous Edward. "The recipe I gave you doesn't include this kind of candy. Only I can make this version."
Hearing that, Edward finally breathed a sigh of relief. With Allen's reassurance, he felt safe enough to pull out a ball of Paradise Dragon Beard Candy and pop it into his mouth.
Then, just like the others, he went into a daze.
But it wasn't over yet.
Without the slightest courtesy, Allen gave Edward a slight push, snapping him out of his blissful state, and handed over the candy formula.
"If you want to enjoy it, do it at home. Don't stand here like a grinning fool," Allen said flatly.
Edward, now awakened from his candy-induced trance, shook his head. The lingering sense of bliss made him dizzy and light-headed. Staring at the few remaining candies in his hand, he shuddered a little.
"No, the effect of this stuff is too scary." Edward firmly handed the remaining balls of Dragon Beard Candy back to Allen. "This… this shouldn't be made again. I really suggest you stop."
"Don't worry," Allen nodded. "I don't like the effect either. This kind of hollow happiness is just harmful."
Then, right in front of Edward, Allen casually tossed one of the candies into his mouth and chewed.
Edward was stunned. "W-Why…"
"Don't look at me like that. I'm not affected," Allen shrugged. "You should go set up the production line quickly. I want those dividends as soon as possible."
"Don't worry!" Edward snapped out of it and perked up with energy. "I'll start advertising tonight. I'll try to get production up within the week!"
Thanks to Allen's reputation, Edward was confident that the candies would break into London's high-end market and make a huge splash.
He had come in a hurry—and left in one too.
Once Edward had gone, Allen glanced at the few people still standing nearby, all of whom looked like they had something to say but didn't dare.
"As people who've tasted the Paradise Dragon Beard Candy, you should know just how terrifying that dessert is," Allen said. "Don't even think about it. I'm never making it again."
Disappointment immediately appeared on the faces of the three people nearby.
Hagrid was the first to react. He glanced at Allen, wanting to talk about how adorable and precious magical creatures were, but considering they weren't familiar enough, he decided against it. Instead, he turned to Tom.
"Tom, I've got to head back to Hogwarts quickly. I'll leave Harry in your care," Hagrid said.
Allen's ears perked up.
There was only one thing important enough to make Hagrid leave Harry Potter behind—and that was the Philosopher's Stone. That meant the Stone was likely in Hagrid's possession, just one step away.
The Philosopher's Stone—a treasure said to turn stone into gold and grant eternal life.
And yet… Allen wasn't moved at all.
The Midas touch? Please. That was Allen Cecil in the flesh. He could turn ordinary ingredients into priceless dishes. And as for eternal life? Allen was still young. With time, there were countless magical creatures known to live for centuries. One day, he would simply eat his way to longevity.
Besides, even if he got the Stone, he'd have to watch out for Voldemort's greedy eyes. That didn't sound fun at all.
He wasn't that desperate, so what was the point?
So Allen's expression remained unchanged. If anything, he was now more interested in heading to bed.
"Don't worry, Hagrid. I'll look after Mr. Potter," Tom replied kindly.
Harry, although calm on the surface, was clearly uneasy about Hagrid's sudden departure. After all, the big man had been his guardian so far, and his absence made Harry feel vulnerable.
Still, Harry was sensible and obediently said goodbye. Meanwhile, Allen was already yawning and heading upstairs.
He hadn't slept the night before, and he had spent the whole morning making candy. He could barely keep his eyes open now, not even the allure of the Paradise Dragon Beard Candy could snap him out of it.
He needed a good, long nap!
"Tom, I'm taking the day off. There'll be no dishes today!" Allen called out as he headed up the stairs.
"NOOO!"
"No, Mr. Cecil! Come back! I'll even take stir-fried chili peppers!"
"I'll take just pepper stir-fry! Just don't give up on us!"
The wailing of the regular customers echoed from downstairs, but Allen didn't care. He tossed a piece of Dragon Beard Candy to Black Color, then collapsed happily onto his bed.
It was odd—he ended up sleeping for an entire month…
Anyway, Allen didn't go back to the kitchen that day. No special dishes were served, and he didn't care.
In the days that followed, Allen stuck to a simple, repetitive rhythm—cooking, studying, and writing down recipes. His life revolved between his room and the kitchen, living like a two-point line.
During this time, Harry began seeking Allen out, expressing a desire to learn how to cook.
Allen didn't refuse. He knew his cooking skills could be taught to those with talent, but the Hand of God—the divine touch that turned the ordinary into the extraordinary—was something that couldn't be passed on.
Still, every craft started at the bottom.
Since Harry was willing, Allen agreed. Thus, the Boy Who Lived became Allen's little apprentice, learning how to chop, slice, and prep ingredients under Allen's strict but skilled hands.
Life passed day by day like this, smooth and full.
Until—August 31st.
A date that brought nothing but sorrow to the loyal customers of the Leaky Cauldron.
Tomorrow would be September 1st—the start of a new term at Hogwarts.
And Allen Cecil, the living legend of the Leaky Cauldron, the culinary genius of Diagon Alley, would be putting down his spatula and heading off to school.
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