There was no industrial pollution in the Wizarding World, so as soon as the sun set, the sky was already full of stars.
And after the first time, the second came much more easily.
Ron swallowed the food in his mouth. "Harry, you're amazing!"
"It could've been better." Harry's little face flushed. "I steamed it for too long."
"No, no—" Ron picked up an entire crispy duck leg. "I think you made it way better than Cho!"
Harry hurriedly shook his head. "No, this is only my first time making Chinese food."
Ron wiped the grease from his lips with his sleeve. "That just proves you're a genius."
"That's right!" Vincent appeared before the two of them.
He picked out a piece of duck breast, the cut that tested one's skill the most.
The seasoning was fine, and so was the texture.
This was what he called steamed for too long?
"Harry, excessive modesty is just hypocrisy."
Vincent suddenly believed in love again.
This kind of simple affection was so nice. It was nothing like all the tricks and schemes from his previous life.
"I really do think it's still lacking a little." Harry began defending himself.
From heat control to knife work, he listed a total of seven shortcomings.
Seeing how earnest he was, Vincent stopped teasing him.
"Oh, right. I'm going on first at tonight's party. I'm singing 'Opening Remarks.'"
Ron's eyes widened. "Opening Remarks? Is that a song?"
"Yep." Vincent looked toward Hagrid in the distance, who was carrying two huge logs.
"If I don't go, Professor McGonagall definitely won't be pleased."
Harry and Ron both nodded in wholehearted agreement.
Any Gryffindor student dared to go onstage, but very few of them had anything respectable to show for it.
He had no choice but to force the