After hearing Hagrid's words, Tom was stunned for a moment—then laughed out loud.
"Works? Mr. Cecil does have great works, and everyone here enjoys them almost every day."
Tom pointed toward all the wizards in the bar and said, "But Mr. Cecil's works aren't songs. His works are… dishes."
"Dishes?" Hagrid blinked. "You mean the kind of food we eat?"
"Of course! Mr. Cecil has incredibly high-level cooking skills. The food he makes leaves people speechless. What's even more surprising is that the dishes he prepares don't just taste amazing—they also seem to carry magical properties."
"What you're saying is quite unbelievable. Is he a chef or a potion master?" Hagrid clearly didn't believe it.
"Hah, I knew you'd say that," Tom replied, grinning. He waved Hagrid over with a mysterious air.
Curious, Hagrid bent down, his massive frame resting heavily against the counter. "What is it?"
"I've got something good for you. Don't let anyone else see it—I managed to keep this until now." Tom leaned in and whispered, producing a small cabbage from beneath the counter.
It wasn't the famous rock sugar-biting cabbage, but rather a snack that Allen had made for himself. This particular version, though similar, required a few more steps in preparation and had slightly less appeal than the candy version. Because of that, Allen never sold it publicly. Instead, he made a small batch for personal use—and occasionally shared some with Tom.
"What's this? Cabbage?" Hagrid took the cabbage Tom handed him. What was a bit weighty to others felt like a sesame seed in his enormous hand.
"Here, one for our savior too." Tom smiled and handed another piece to Harry.
Hagrid and Harry looked at the cabbage in their hands, exchanged glances, and, after a brief hesitation, each popped it into their mouths.
"It smells amazing!"
The moment they bit into it, a wave of rich, restrained fragrance burst in their mouths.
Harry, who had never tasted anything so delicious, was nearly brought to tears on the spot.
As for Hagrid, the experience was no less powerful. He'd never cared much for taste—his coarse tongue and stomach were usually content with anything that filled him up.
But now, with this one bite, he finally understood the meaning of "delicious."
"This... this is incredible!" Hagrid exclaimed, his voice trembling. "Is there more? Give me another!"
"Can't do that. This is Mr. Cecil's private batch—you can't even buy it," Tom said bluntly. "If you want some, wait at the kitchen door around noon tomorrow. You can purchase a fresh serving then. But I should warn you, Mr. Cecil's food doesn't come cheap."
"How expensive could a dish possibly be?" Hagrid said, brushing it off.
"You're wrong there," Tom replied, shaking his head. "Mr. Cecil's dishes are all made with magical creatures or magical plants. The cost is very real. Combined with his rare culinary skill, none of his dishes sell for less than 1 Galleon."
"One Galleon for a single dish?!" Hagrid's eyes widened in disbelief.
Harry wasn't yet sure how much a Galleon was worth, but from Hagrid's reaction, he could tell it was not a small amount.
"It's not just one Galleon," Tom continued. "The most expensive one so far sold for 20 Galleons—a single serving of dragon blood sausage."
"That's outrageous..." Hagrid muttered. Then he paused, his expression changing suddenly. "Wait, what did you just say he uses in his cooking?"
"Magical animals or magical plants. That cabbage you just ate? It's called biting cabbage," Tom replied casually.
Hagrid's face turned pale, then red.
"HOW COULD HE DO THIS?!" Hagrid suddenly shouted, his voice booming across the bar. "It's already cruel enough to use magical creatures in potions—but to cook them and eat them?"
His reaction startled Harry. Although Hagrid was a kind and gentle man, his three-meter-tall frame and booming voice made his anger terrifying.
"Oh, Hagrid. I still don't understand you," Tom said, shrugging. "Just like I didn't understand you leaving Hogwarts over that incident."
Tom shook his head. "Well, sorry for bringing up something that bothers you. Let's change the subject. It's getting late—most of Diagon Alley is closed. How about we get two rooms?"
"Two rooms," Hagrid grunted, clearly trying to suppress his rage. "Give me one far away from that child."
Hagrid was furious—and the consequence of his anger was that he no longer wanted to be near Allen.
"Hah. Even if you wanted to be near him, you wouldn't get the chance," Tom said. "The rooms around Mr. Cecil—even the ones above and below—are all booked. People reserved them just so he can rest well and not be disturbed. His cooking is that important."
Tom pulled out two sets of keys and handed one to Hagrid.
"Second floor. Even though you're a regular, I still have to say it—don't break the key."
"Your keys are too flimsy," Hagrid muttered. "I'm not using that much strength, honestly."
"I could make a key from mithril and it would still bend in your hand," Tom rolled his eyes. Then he turned to Harry with a warm smile. "Sweet dreams, Mr. Potter. Tomorrow, you'll truly begin to explore the magic in this world."
Harry nodded, already feeling excitement bubbling inside. Tomorrow held the promise of real magic. Taking the subway, after all, didn't exactly count as magical.
Yes, Hagrid had taken him here by subway when they first came to the Leaky Cauldron, and it had been a very ordinary journey.
Now, though—Harry could sense things were about to become extraordinary.
For more chapters
patreon.com/Albert213