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Bryan stood beside a wooden table, wearing a loose-fitting pair of faded blue jeans and a gray wool sweater. A white apron was tied around his waist which was in stark contrast to the casualness of his clothing. As the group entered the kitchen, they were met by the sight of Professor Watson vigorously kneading a large mass of dough on the cutting board.

“Pfft-” Hermione couldn’t contain her amusement and quickly covered her mouth, stifling a giggle that had half left her mouth. The others, too, found themselves pursing their lips, their shoulders were shaking with barely suppressed laughter.

Their reactions were not only due to the odd sight of Bryan Watson, a wizard whose reputation and power resounded throughout the magical world, dressed in such amusing attire.

What truly added to the hilarity of the scene was the fact that, as he diligently kneaded the dough, Bryan had a colorful lollipop comically bulging from the corner of his mouth. It was obvious that this had been bestowed upon him by the naughty little Muggle girl who was clinging stubbornly to his back and making trouble for him.

The little girl, with curly black hair, had her arms wrapped tightly around Professor Watson’s neck, and her hands were repeatedly tapping him on the head with a stick. However, upon closer look, the group realized with a jolt of surprise that the black stick seemed to be Professor Watson’s wand.

“Bryan, I’ve brought them-” Mrs. Regan swiftly approached the pair and, with gentle but firm hands, tried to pry the little girl from Professor Watson’s back.

This action was met with fierce resistance from the girl, who wriggled and protested heatedly. However, Mrs. Regan’s patient coaxing eventually won out, and she managed to remove the wand from the girl’s grasp. With a flick of her wrist, Mrs. Regan tossed the wand into the basin of flour that was near Bryan, causing a small puff of white powder to rise into the air.

Judging by the way Ron’s shoulders immediately began to tremble, it was clear that he, too, was struggling to contain his laughter at the absurdity of the situation.

The various staff members bustling about the kitchen, along with the slightly older children who were lending a helping hand, paused in their tasks to glance curiously at the newcomers and smiled at them in a friendly manner. The door through which Harry and his group had entered was now blocked by a crowd of onlooking children, their faces were pressed eagerly against the glass pane of the kitchen.

As Mrs. Regan made her way out of the kitchen, she gently shooed the gathered children away, urging them to return to their dining seats. With a final, firm click, she closed the kitchen door behind her, muffling the excited chatter and restoring a sense of calm to the bustling kitchen-space.

In the absence of the children’s voices, the clinking and clanging of pots and pans became notably clearer, and the sounds of cooking preparation filled the air. The busy Muggles in the kitchen, after casting a few more glances at the visitors, withdrew their gazes and returned to their tasks.

However, Harry couldn’t shake the feeling that they were still being observed from the corners of attentive eyes, the staff’s curiosity seemed to be piqued by the company of them mysterious strangers. Despite this, no one stepped forward to disturb them.

As Harry’s attention returned to Professor Watson, he found himself locking eyes with him.

Bryan had finally turned his head to observe them, his gaze became sharp and deep.

A sudden chill raced up Harry’s spine, causing him to instinctively straighten his posture and stand a little taller. He wasn’t alone in this reaction; a quick glance to his sides and he discovered that Sirius and others had almost the same reaction.

“Come over-” Bryan’s voice cut through the tension, the words coming slightly muffled as he crunched the lollipop between his teeth, reducing it to a shower of sugary shards.

With a skillful motion, he plucked the now-bare stick from his mouth and, with impressive accuracy, tossed it into a nearby trash can.

His light purple eyes, still tinged with a hint of displeasure, swept over the gathered people who seemed to be frozen in place, as if under the influence of a Petrification Spell. “Well, what are you waiting for?” he said again in a hoarse voice.

“Ahem-” Sirius was the first to step forward, his movements were hesitant and slow. As the one who had suggested seeking out Bryan, the responsibility of appeasing his potential anger also fell on his shoulders. A somewhat awkward smile appeared across his face as he slowly made his way towards Bryan as beads of nervous sweat already formed on his temples.

Although Bryan’s expression remained blank, the faint displeasure simmering in his eyes was enough to set the others who followed Sirius on edge.

Remus, observing the way Sirius struggled, unsure of how to properly greet their host, and taking note of the uneasiness that flickered across the faces of Harry, Ron, and Hermione, decided to intervene. He pursed his lips, looked at the dough on the table, and revealed a relaxed smile.

“I must say, Bryan, this is quite the surprise,” Remus began, his voice warm and casual. “I never knew you were so good at cooking—”

Bryan, in response, reached into the basin and retrieved his wand, wiping away the clinging remnants of flour and water on his apron. With a casual motion, he slipped the wand into the pocket of his pants. His gaze, now lacking of its previous intensity, swept over the uneasy group once more. After a moment of silence, Bryan shook his head, showing a more relaxed expression.

“I hope you all understand that there’s no such thing as a free meal here,” Bryan said, his words accompanied by a nod towards Sirius and the others. “If you want to eat, you’ll have to contribute to its preparation.”

“Oh!” Sirius’s demeanor instantly brightened; his eyes were now sparkling with enthusiasm. He observed the various pots, pans, and ingredients on the counter, and his gray eyes gleamed with the eagerness to try. “We’d be more than happy to lend a hand, Bryan!”

Despite their willingness to assist, however, it quickly became apparent that the vast majority of the wizarding folks were more of a hindrance than a help in the kitchen.

Having grown up in the privileged environment of the noble Black family, surrounded by house-elves who catered to his every need, Sirius had never once needed to do even the most basic of household chores.

Even during his dark days in Azkaban, the prisoners’ meager meals had been delivered by the Dementors. Faced now with a dizzying number of cooking tools and appliances, Sirius found himself at a complete loss, his eyebrows were furrowed in confusion as he tried to make sense of the foreign objects in front of him.

Remus managed only marginally better than his old friend. Though he, too, had endured his fair share of hardships over the years, he had always been able to rely on the convenience of magic to lighten his burdens. In the presence of so many watchful Muggle eyes, however, he couldn’t very well take out his wand and set the potatoes to peeling themselves with a flick of his wrist.

As for Ron, well, there was little need to dwell on his cooking incompetence. Growing up in the Weasley family, he had been lovingly pampered by his mother, who had taken great pride in tending to her children’s every need they could afford. The steps and details of cooking good food were as distant to him as the concept of Muggle technology.

Hermione, despite her Muggle upbringing, also was in a similar predicament. While she had indeed spent her childhood in the non-magical world, her main focus had always been on her studies. Her parents were always doting and supportive and had happily shouldered the responsibility of things related to maintaining the household, allowing their smart daughter to devote her time and energy to study.

So, after Sirius nearly cut off his own finger for the third time, Remus accidentally shattered two plates in his clumsy attempts to be helpful, Ron and Hermione who were tasked with tending the stove tried to make the flames more vigorous but ended up extinguishing the fire by stuffing in too much firewood, and filled the kitchen with thick smoke.

In the end, it was Bryan who under the gaze of the Muggles in the kitchen who were trying not to laugh, told them with a dark face to all go stand to the side.

Harry, on the other hand, surprised everyone with his unexpected expertise in the kitchen. With ease, he started washing vegetables, peeling potatoes, slicing ingredients, and even frying up a batch of crispy bacon. His movements were very neat and steady, as he fell in the familiar rhythm of cooking. Even Bryan kept giving Harry appreciative glances.

“Not bad, Mr. Potter!” Bryan praised with a smile. Lowering his voice, he added, “You know, when you graduate from Hogwarts, a career as a chef at the Leaky Cauldron might not be such a terrible idea.”

Harry grinned happily, his face practically glowing with pride at the unexpected compliment. In that moment, he looked happier than he ever had, even when being praised for his achievements on the Quidditch pitch or in his Physical Education class.

“Well, you see, Prof- er, sir,” Harry said in an excited rush, “I got plenty of practice with cleaning and cooking back at the Dursleys?”

So caught up was he in his own sense of accomplishment that Harry failed to notice the way Remus’s smile faded at his words, or the way Sirius’s lips thinned into a stiff line, his eyes were flashing with a mixture of anger and self-blame.

As the preparations continued, a small face appeared at the crack of the kitchen door – a little boy with a brown hair and bright eyes.

Hermione, her own face smudged with soot from her earlier misadventures with the stove, caught sight of the child and felt her heart swell with a sudden rush of cuteness. Wiping her sleeve across her eyebrow, she turned to Professor Watson, who was expertly frying up a batch of sausages.

“Professor Watson- sorry, sir,” Hermione began, her voice soft with admiration, “have you been looking after them all this time? The children, I mean, and the orphanage?”

Bryan, his attention focused on the sizzling pan before him, gave a small, noncommittal shrug. “As you know, Hermione, my time is rather limited these days,” he replied, neatly flipping the sausages to ensure even browning.

“So, the help I can provide is, by necessity, somewhat limited.” He poured the fried sausages onto a plate and carried it to an empty table on the side for placing dishes. Then, he hurried to the oven and sniffed, observing the color of the bread crust through the glass. He replied in the gaps, “Only some financial support, mainly, to ensure that the children have what they need.”

At this, Remus straightened and a determined gleam appeared in his eye.

“If you need it, Bryan-” Remus seemed to have been waiting for this topic. He immediately said, “I can negotiate with the goblins-“

“I can help too, Bryan!” Sirius hurriedly said, realizing what Remus was going to say.

Harry, too, seemed on the verge of speaking, his mouth opening and closing as he struggled to find the right words. He was willing to take out a portion of the inheritance he had received from his parents to help these children. And It wasn’t just for the sake of Professor Watson!

But Bryan, with a gentle shake of his head, waved away their offers. “I appreciate the sentiment, Remus, Sirius, but this is something I prefer to handle on my own.”

Opening the oven, the rich aroma of bread wafted out. Ron’s stomach immediately let out a gurgling sound. He nervously covered his belly, and glanced around to see if anyone had noticed. Much to his relief, it seemed the others were too preoccupied with the matter at hand and no one was paying attention to him.

Smelling the enticing aroma, Bryan nodded with satisfaction and continued, “Besides, you know as well as I do that the transfer of assets between the wizarding and Muggle worlds is a closely monitored matter. I’d rather not draw any unnecessary attention to my involvement here, if it’s all the same to you.”

“Mmm, that smells good,” Seeing that the table for placing the food was already crammed with dishes of various colors, Bryan took off his apron and heaved a long sigh. He smiled at the older children and staff who were already waiting.

“I think we’re just about ready to eat, everyone!”

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Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep