In the kitchen, Allen was still cooking with his usual skill and focus.
Although he was leaving tomorrow, he remained just as committed to his work. Many benefactors outside were still waiting for help. Giving up now, even on the last day, would be the greatest sin in his eyes.
Harry stood beside Allen, quietly watching his movements while assisting however he could.
He coated a blood-red cake with a layer of egg wash, then bread crumbs. He repeated the process three times before carefully placing it on a plate within Allen's reach.
Allen took the dragon's blood cake—now evenly covered—and dropped it into the hot oil. When it turned golden, he took it out, poured the pre-prepared sauce over it, and served it in front of Tom.
This was Allen's latest creation: the Golden Dragon's Blood Cake. Though a new addition to his menu, the preparation method remained true to his usual cooking style. This time, however, the dragon's blood cake was made with glutinous rice flour mixed with real dragon's blood.
"This is the last one," Allen said, wiping his hands as he plated three portions of the cake. "Let everyone outside know that today's the final meal. Starting tomorrow, I won't be here. This little kitchen is closing indefinitely."
He handed the plates to Tom. "I'll leave the last sales to you, Uncle Tom."
Tom didn't seem particularly thrilled. He sighed, replying weakly, "Alright. I understand."
"Don't look so heartbroken," Allen said, handing one of the golden cakes to Harry, who was practically drooling. Allen took one for himself and said between bites, "You're acting like I'm dying or something. I'm just going to school."
"Of course I know you're going to Hogwarts," Tom muttered. "But once you're gone, who knows when we'll get to eat your food again?"
"Don't be sad, Uncle Tom." Allen swallowed his last bite and continued earnestly, "Everything has two sides. Sure, after I go to Hogwarts, you won't be able to eat my food anymore—but when I graduate, what if you can't afford it anymore?"
"Thanks. Your optimism is just too inspiring," Tom said sarcastically. Then he sighed again, adding, "But you're probably right. With your talent, I might really not be able to afford your food in the future. You'll probably open some super high-end restaurant, huh?"
"Oh, absolutely," Allen said with a grin. "Maybe after graduation, I'll open a fine-dining place and become your competition."
He stood on tiptoe and patted Tom's shoulder. "You can save your disappointment until then."
"Is that how you comfort people?" Tom asked, sounding like he was on the verge of tears. "I can already see the future of the Leaky Cauldron crashing. Don't worry—before that happens, I'll sell this bar and go to your fancy restaurant to scam you for a free drink!"
"You're always welcome," Allen replied with a laugh.
Harry, meanwhile, wasn't paying any attention to their conversation.
His head was lowered, and he hummed happily while devouring the golden dragon's blood cake.
The satisfaction from the rich, savory oil and the umami flavor made him completely lose himself in the experience. At that moment, he made two resolutions: one, to keep eating Allen's food; and two, to work just as hard as Allen at learning magic.
He wasn't sure which was stronger—his resolve or his growing appetite.
In just one month, Harry's appearance had visibly changed.
Once a thin, undernourished boy, he now looked much stronger and healthier. A month of eating delicious, nutritious meals every day had completely transformed his physique.
Luckily, helping out in the kitchen every day gave him plenty of physical exercise. Otherwise, it wouldn't just be a small weight gain—he would've doubled in size!
…
Later that afternoon, after packing his luggage, Allen left the Leaky Cauldron and walked to Tuofan Clothing Store, a place he knew well.
This time, the store was bustling.
Not only was Martha there, but several elegantly dressed women were admiring bolts of luxurious fabric.
Martha was busy explaining the advantages of the materials to her guests.
Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Allen standing at the door. She quickly wrapped up her pitch, apologized to the customers, and came outside.
"I thought you forgot about our agreement," she said, smiling warmly. "Ready for school?"
"Yeah, it's already the 31st. The train leaves tomorrow." Allen returned her smile. "And of course I didn't forget—I always keep my promises. Don't I get a reward for that?"
"Here." Without missing a beat, Martha popped a lollipop into his mouth.
The familiar burst of sweetness and delight immediately made Allen raise his eyebrows in surprise.
"I know this candy," he said. "I made this."
It was unmistakable—the flavor and effect were exactly like the Happy Candy developed by Hodge. As its creator, Allen could recognize it instantly.
"I know," Martha replied. "I didn't expect you to be this talented. This candy's super popular now."
She unwrapped one for herself and popped it in. "It tastes amazing. Honestly, after eating it, my mood improves. I don't even feel annoyed by the ridiculous requests from weird customers anymore."
Apparently, even in the wizarding world, there were still classic conflicts between Party A and Party B.
Allen watched her enjoy the candy and couldn't help but smile mischievously.
"You know," he said with mock seriousness, "for some reason, your candy tastes better than mine."
"Huh? That doesn't make sense. Aren't they exactly the same?"
Martha frowned, pulling the lollipop from her mouth and inspecting the golden candy. "There's nothing wrong with it…"
"I don't believe it," Allen said, still keeping a straight face. "Let me try yours to be sure."
Martha's face turned red in an instant. "You little rascal!" she said, laughing as she rubbed his hair. "How dare you tease your older sister like that?"
They both laughed. The moment was light, silly—but meaningful.
There was warmth, familiarity, and a touch of sadness underneath the joking.
This was farewell, after all.
Allen looked around the shop one last time, committing the details to memory: the shimmering rolls of fabric, the warm wood counters, Martha's smile, and the way the sunlight poured through the window at that hour.
Tomorrow, he would be on the train to Hogwarts.
But today… today was still his.
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