The elderly wizard descended from the rotating staircase, arriving at the doorway. He sensed Wayne hurrying over and was curious what urgent matter had brought him, only to hear this utterly unreliable conversation.
Dumbledore realised that even after all this time, despite being quite familiar with Wayne...
He still frequently couldn't keep up with the young man's train of thought.
"You mustn't refuse young Lawrence's kindness," the gargoyle reminded him: "Dumbledore, you wouldn't want to be locked out of your own office in future, would you?"
Wayne looked at it with admiration, secretly giving a thumbs up.
A gatekeeper threatening to deny its master entry - now that was peak security.
Dumbledore gave a wry smile. "I never said I wouldn't agree. But there's no need to trouble Mr Lawrence - I'll help you find a companion."
Only then did the gargoyle relent, settling happily back onto its perch.
"So, what brings you here in such a hurry?" The old wizard didn't bother going inside, simply asking at the doorway.
"It's like this, Professor..." Wayne explained about the Hufflepuff Cooking Championship.
"I'd like to invite you to be a judge."
"A Cooking Championship - how delightful." Dumbledore's interest was piqued. "Mr Lawrence, was this your idea?"
"Indeed. Everyone wanted some fun before leaving school, so I came up with this."
"How wonderful." The old man's gaze grew exceptionally kind.
This was precisely the kind of school life he'd always dreamed of. Wayne's approach aligned perfectly with his ideals.
Life shouldn't consist solely of pursuing magic and power. The people around us and joyful living are far more precious.
"It would be my honour to accept the invitation," Dumbledore said cheerfully. "Tasting students' culinary creations would be a first for me. I think this event should become a regular occurrence."
"If it's successful, I imagine it will," Wayne replied with a smile.
"Since you've agreed, I'll go invite the other Heads of House now."
"Off you go then," Dumbledore nodded. "The livelier the better - I look forward to your creations."
After bidding farewell to Dumbledore, Wayne went to find his own Head of House.
Professor Sprout readily agreed, even generously permitting students to gather necessary ingredients from the greenhouses.
"What a marvellous event - so very Hufflepuff."
Sprout couldn't be more pleased with her charge. Since Wayne's arrival, her little badgers had grown increasingly vibrant.
On his way to Snape's office, Wayne happened upon Professor McGonagall walking with Professor Flitwick, saving him considerable trouble.
After hearing the invitation, Flitwick happily agreed, but Professor McGonagall pressed her lips together, expression stern.
"Students organising large-scale events need to apply to the faculty in advance. And according to your plans, it would likely extend past curfew."
"Professor..." Wayne felt rather apprehensive.
Professor McGonagall's difficulty level arguably surpassed that of all other Heads and the Headmaster combined.
Just as he thought she might refuse or even forbid the event, the stern older cat-lady suddenly smiled.
"Twenty points from Hufflepuff - consider it punishment for tonight's curfew violation."
Wayne finally relaxed.
The point deduction meant Professor McGonagall was tacitly approving their plans.
"Will you be attending then?" Wayne ventured to ask.
"I wouldn't miss such an interesting celebration," Professor McGonagall said with a smile. "Thirty points to Hufflepuff for your ingenious idea."
"Thank you. I'll see you later then."
Wayne politely bid farewell and disappeared around the corridor corner.
"Such a fine boy. Why couldn't he have been in our house?" Professor McGonagall shook her head regretfully as she watched his retreating figure.
"Quite right," agreed Professor Flitwick.
...
"A Cooking Championship? Pointless nonsense. Not going."
Snape didn't even look up from preparing his ingredients as he flatly refused.
Fortunately, while others found Snape impossible to deal with, someone knew exactly how to press his buttons.
"Is that so?" the young man said quietly. "I'd prepared souvenirs for all the professors. Seems I can save one now."
A glass bottle containing black ashes appeared on the table.
Snape's gaze was fixed unblinkingly on the bottle, oblivious to the toad pellet being crushed in his hand.
"Is this... the ashes left after a Phoenix's rebirth?"
"Correct." Wayne nodded.
Ho-Oh's rebirth wasn't like Fawkes's, requiring growth from infancy in a cycle of renewal. Rather, it was an innate ability.
After rebirth, Ho-Oh's injuries and condition would return to their peak—or even become stronger.
These ashes were byproducts from Ho-Oh practising this skill. After some research, Wayne found their medicinal efficacy was no worse than its tears.
"Since all the Heads of House are participating, my absence would be rather inappropriate."
Snape struggled to maintain his composure, casually making an excuse for himself.
Yet his hand had already stealthily reached for the glass vial.
Wayne retrieved it first.
"Lawrence, what do you mean by this?" Snape glared at Wayne with clear hostility.
"As I've said, these are souvenirs for after the competition ends."
"Are you questioning my integrity?" Snape flushed with anger. "If I've agreed to attend, I'll be there!"
Wayne remained silent, his expression conveying everything.
He honestly didn't believe him.
Snape pointed furiously at the door. "Out!"
...
After much ado, Wayne finally returned to the Hufflepuff Common Room.
The Prefects had selected fourteen contestants. Hannah, with her family's culinary background, had set some questions. After resolving disputes through impromptu cook-offs among controversial candidates, the final qualifiers were indeed each year's most skilled cooks.
"So, did you find the judges?" Cedric asked as Wayne returned.
"Found them. The Headmaster and all four Heads of House will attend."
Pfft—!
Wotley spat out his tea, while Henderson, across from him, remained expressionless.
"Sorry, that wasn't intentional." Wotley hastily cast cleaning charms before staring at Wayne in disbelief. "What did you say? The Headmaster and Heads of House?"
The surrounding badgers were equally stunned.
Was this necessary? A simple cooking competition had somehow summoned the entire school leadership.
"Snape's coming too?" Cedric found this hard to believe, considering Snape's personality and his relationship with Wayne.
Snape judging a potions competition made sense—but a cooking contest?
This contradicted his entire persona!
Wayne smiled. "After hearing the other Heads had agreed, Professor Snape accepted the invitation rather quickly."
"After all, he wouldn't want to appear antisocial."
Whether Cedric believed it or not, this was now an established fact.
News of the Heads and Headmaster attending left the contestants both nervous and excited. After finalising their dishes, they rushed into the kitchens.
With nothing better to do, many spectators followed.
For Hufflepuffs, visiting the kitchens felt like coming home, and the house-elves were accustomed to their presence.
But being suddenly overrun by a hundred students terrified the poor creatures.
Wayne quickly explained their purpose, which somewhat calmed the elves—though several tried banging their heads against pillars, convinced their cooking had driven students to cook for themselves.
Fortunately, kind-hearted students intervened before any serious self-harm occurred.
"Enough, no more mischief." Wayne knew he had to be firm when speaking to them, so he commanded: "Professor Dumbledore and several Heads of House will be arriving shortly. Clear the space at once."
Whoosh!
At the mention of Dumbledore's name, the house-elves trembled and obediently huddled in the corner.
"Each of you may select one house-elf as an assistant, but they can only handle simple tasks."
Checking the time and feeling somewhat pressed, Wayne slightly relaxed the conditions.
Immediately, the house-elves gazed at him eagerly, hoping to be chosen.
"Eh? Norman can actually cook?" Wayne only now realised that the second-year boys' representative was his dormmate Norman.
"No idea," Toby said with a wounded expression. "But just now he was talking about cooking like an expert."
"Heh heh." Norman scratched his head sheepishly.
"My grandfather's a chef. He taught me a few dishes over the summer. Only just learned them."
Wayne and Toby both reached out to poke him.
"You sly devil."
...
As ten o'clock approached, Dumbledore and the Heads of House arrived together, and Wayne had everything prepared.
A long table stood in the centre of the common room kitchen, with six chairs placed behind it.
To ensure ample space, an Undetectable Extension Charm had been temporarily applied.
The badgers clutched their transfigured stools, gathered around as they waited for the contestants to present their creations.
Four Heads of House, one Headmaster, plus Wayne as the organiser—exactly six judges.
Initially, everyone had been nervous, given how close it was to curfew, but seeing the professors show no concern, they gradually relaxed.
"Mr Lawrence, didn't you sign up to participate?" Dumbledore asked cheerfully.
"No, my cooking's barely edible."
"What a shame. It would be wonderful if this event could include students from other houses."
"Ever since I tasted Miss Clearwater's pasta at your home, I've often found myself reminiscing about it."
It seemed Dumbledore was keen to establish this as a regular inter-house competition.
Professor Flitwick, however, focused on something else entirely.
"Clearwater? From our house?"
Dumbledore replied, "Yes, a most outstanding Ravenclaw."
Hmm. Dumbledore went to Lawrence's home and ate a meal prepared by Clearwater.
The odd dynamic left the goblin Head of House momentarily perplexed.
...
The Heads of House and Wayne chatted lightly about Christmas holiday plans, while Snape sat at the far end, utterly disengaged.
This led many young wizards to privately speculate whether Professor Snape had been coerced into attending.
After a while longer, the kitchen door opened.
The first contestant arrived with his dish. Wayne smiled—he hadn't expected Norman to be first.
Professor McGonagall's eyes lit up at the sight of the plate.
"Scotch eggs?"
"A very traditional meal," Dumbledore nodded as Norman nervously placed the food before them.
Scotch eggs—a dish of boiled eggs wrapped in sausage meat, coated in breadcrumbs and deep-fried—had over three centuries of history in Britain, making it quite ancient by the country's standards.
After taking a bite, the outer layer of minced meat wasn't overcooked, and the egg inside remained perfectly runny.
"Norman, you've got real skill," Wayne praised, giving a thumbs-up.
Norman smiled sheepishly.
The judges held up their scorecards, with ten being the highest and zero the lowest.
Norman ultimately scored forty-one points - Professor McGonagall gave nine while the others all awarded eight, showing her particular fondness for this snack.
Norman's strong start boosted the morale of young wizards peeking into the kitchen from outside.
Next came a fifth-year girl who presented oxtail stew with a creamy broth base containing excessive sugar.
While Dumbledore appeared delighted, the other judges fell silent, offering only seven points as encouragement.
Student after student presented their dishes - all homely fare.
Minced pork pies, smoked beef bagels, fish and chips, caramel black pudding.
With house-elves assisting, everyone prepared generous portions, allowing other young badgers in the audience to sample small tastes.
Though modest, these portions sufficed for tasting.
Then Cedric brought forth his creation, making Wayne and several professors' eyelids twitch.
It had appeared. It truly had appeared.
Stargazy pie!
On the golden, flaky crust stood over a dozen tilapia heads protruding vertically, their lifeless eyes staring skywards.
"Why would you make this dish?" Wayne couldn't help asking.
"My father and I tried it at a Muggle restaurant during our Cornwall trip - absolutely splendid. Do try some!"
Cedric enthusiastically served portions to Wayne and the professors.
Wayne couldn't bring himself to eat - locking eyes with those lifeless stares killed his appetite completely.
Only Dumbledore, having lived long enough to encounter every oddity, overcame his initial discomfort and took the first bite.
He cheerfully cut a slice including a fish head, ate it in one go, froze momentarily, then chewed thoughtfully before smiling.
"Surprisingly decent."
"Severus, Minerva, do try some," Dumbledore said, already reaching for a second piece.
The other professors relaxed slightly.
They were judges, not poison testers.
Seeing Dumbledope's enjoyment suggested another frightening-looking but decent-tasting dish.
Wayne hesitantly took a bite, but upon seeing Snape's face turn green, he immediately spat it out.
"Dumbledore!" Professor McGonagall cried through her handkerchief, torn between laughter and tears.
They'd been tricked by this old codger!
Cream, potatoes, onions, salted fish, dried cheese - all perfectly good ingredients that turned monstrous when combined with icing sugar. McGonagall felt the bizarre mixture assault her senses.
Flitwick and Professor Sprout coughed violently, pointing wordlessly at the old man.
Dumbledore laughed with childlike glee at his successful prank.
"Zero! It must be zero!"
Snape furiously pointed at Cedric: "Attempting to poison professors! Ten points from Hufflepuff!"
Even Sprout showed no intention of stopping him—she was too busy rinsing her mouth. If Snape hadn't spoken up, she might have resorted to drastic measures against her own student.
"Even deceiving the Head of House... Cedric's really gone astray."
"This can't be right!"
Seeing everyone's exaggerated reactions, Cedric was baffled. He'd made this dish at home before, and even his parents had praised it.
Refusing to believe it, Cedric took a bite himself, and his expression immediately became spectacularly contorted.
Oh no... he'd used sugar instead of salt!