[Jumping Mushrooms]
Hunting level: 1
Special abilities: None
Characteristics: Fresh and sweet; mushroom; active movement
Allen looked at the jumping mushroom in his hand, thinking for a moment as he recalled its entry in Thousands of Herbs and Mushrooms.
A special kind of mushroom—one of the essential ingredients for the invisibility potion Yinbian.
But these mushrooms weren't poisonous; they were simply ingredients, weren't they? And even if they were toxic, Allen wasn't worried. Thanks to the effects of his Demon Stomach, he could taste even poisonous mushrooms without harm—provided, of course, that they tasted good. Otherwise, Allen had no interest in consuming something both poisonous and unpalatable.
After picking a few jumping mushrooms, Allen decided to use them as part of a main dish. Naturally, the main ingredient would have to be meat. Allen loved all kinds of meat—mushroom protein alone just wouldn't cut it.
There was still plenty of meat to be found in the wild. As Allen considered what type of meat would pair well, an owl suddenly flew over his head.
It landed in a tall shed not far from him—Hut No. 17—the Hogwarts Owlery, where the school owls rested.
Eating owl? Allen considered the idea. It was tempting, but he quickly dismissed it. Going into the owlery to catch an owl wasn't just a breach of school rules—it was stealing.
He wasn't so poor that he needed to do such a dishonorable thing. Why risk his reputation when he could afford meat?
Just as he turned his thoughts to purchasing an owl through legal means, a familiar quacking sound reached his ears. Allen looked up, recognizing it instantly.
He spotted a black figure perched above him.
Robert wasn't trying to hide. In fact, he was standing proudly in a beam of sunlight filtering through the forest canopy. The light hit his feathers, making them shimmer with a stunning, iridescent array of colors.
After showing off for a while, Robert kicked something off a nearby branch, then dove through the air, performing a mid-air stunt to catch it before landing gracefully in front of Allen.
Robert held his head high and dropped his catch on the ground in front of him.
Allen took a closer look—it was a pheasant. A bright and colorful one, with long tail feathers, a white ring around its neck, and a black forehead with a bluish-purple sheen.
At this time of year, pheasants were still quite abundant in Britain, even in the student dormitory areas.
Luckily, Robert had some sense—not capturing a protected animal or an owl. If he had, Allen might have had a moral dilemma on his hands.
"Well done." Allen stroked Robert's glossy feathers. "Since you've brought lunch, let's make this our meal today."
Allen wasn't in the mood for simple grilled meat, though. He wanted something heartier—chicken stewed with mushrooms.
He foraged for wild ginger and found a patch of wild garlic growing in the grass near the forest edge. Without cooking wine, he would have to rely on these aromatics to remove the pheasant's gamey odor.
After gathering the herbs, Allen carried the bird to the edge of the Black Lake. With practiced ease, he used Transfiguration to turn a stone into a sharp blade, then swiftly slit the pheasant's throat to drain the blood.
Plucking the feathers was a more annoying task.
Allen considered a shortcut. He used a Floating Charm to mix lake water and mud, coating the bird completely. He then dried the coating using the Fire Dragon's Breath ability in his hand—turning it into a makeshift dryer.
Once the mud had solidified, Allen smashed the dried crust, pulling off feathers along with the cracked earth.
With the pheasant clean, he opened the carcass and removed the innards. Cleaning them was troublesome, so Allen simply tossed them near the lake, hoping they might attract some fish later.
He then stuffed the wild ginger and garlic into the pheasant's cavity.
No pot? No fire? No problem.
This was where being a wizard came in handy. Even without any equipment, magic made life infinitely more convenient. With Transfiguration, one could practically conjure a fully furnished apartment from nothing.
Allen built a rough stove out of stones, then cast a transformation spell on them to turn it into a proper cooking stove. Objects with similar shapes and functions required less magical power and made Transfiguration much easier.
Robert, who had been following Allen closely for years, seemed to understand what he was doing. As soon as he saw Allen setting up the stove, the bird took flight and began collecting dead branches and dry leaves for fuel.
"Clear spring like water."
Allen waved his wand and cast a basic spell from his Herbology textbook. He hadn't realized its usefulness until reading about it again in Thousands of Herbs and Mushrooms. With his [Basic Magic Mastery], learning it had been a breeze.
Fresh water poured from his wand into the pot. Allen placed the stuffed pheasant inside. After a moment's thought, he tossed in half the wild garlic as well.
"If I add mushrooms and reduce the garlic, the flavor will be more balanced," Allen muttered, adjusting the ingredients as he added the jumping mushrooms and arranged the branches Robert had brought.
"The fire's too weak."
Allen stared at the modest flames under the stove. With a quick decision, he bent down and put his hand to the fire, channeling the Fire Dragon's Breath as a heat source.
Using this innate ability to cook didn't strike him as strange. Magic and abilities existed to make life more convenient—why not use them?
Even wild fire dragons used their breath to cook food before eating, didn't they?
The flames from the Fire Dragon's Breath were intense. Within moments, the water was boiling.
Allen withdrew his hand and dissipated the lingering heat with a wave, then lowered the fire. He added the cleaned jumping mushrooms and let the stew simmer.
A rich aroma soon wafted through the air.
Allen sniffed and sighed, satisfaction mixed with a hint of regret. "What a pity. If I had more time to stew it slowly, the soup would be even better."
Unfortunately, he had class in the afternoon. Otherwise, he would have spent hours perfecting the flavor.
Still, this wasn't bad. The fragrance was already tempting, and the meat would be tender and flavorful.
He pulled back the lid. Steam escaped, carrying a mouthwatering scent. Floating in the clear broth were a few bright mushrooms, bobbing around the plump, golden meat.
It wasn't the richest soup yet—but the meat was perfectly firm and springy.
Allen rubbed his hands together, sprinkling in a bit of salt he'd brought from his pouch. He turned Draco Malfoy's wand—previously seized in a duel—into a pair of chopsticks, ready to eat.
But just as he was about to dig in, he heard something.
A strange noise echoed from the lake—loud and unsettling. It was close.
Allen's expression turned serious. He stopped moving and scanned the area around him.
The surface of the Black Lake appeared calm—no ripples, no splashes.
But Allen had an odd feeling.
A strange tension filled the air, as if something invisible was watching from the water.
And then he noticed—the innards he had thrown near the lake earlier were gone.
He had placed them a good distance from the water's edge. It was impossible for the waves to have washed them away.
Allen narrowed his eyes, locking his gaze on the lake.
Something didn't feel right.
The water directly in front of him appeared slightly darker than the surrounding area—as if something was lurking just beneath the surface.
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