The Little Cake in His Hand Instantly Lost Its Appeal

Draco forked through the fluffy Yorkshire Pudding batter and picked out a sausage with a crispy, charred exterior.

"Pfft—" He opened his mouth and took a bite, the juice instantly filling his entire mouth.

This is a delicious dish, a dish whose name he doesn't know, but which he still enjoys very much.

"You used to like this?"

"Wayne!" Draco swallowed the sausage and looked up, pointing his nostrils at the newcomer.

Vincent, who was "just passing by," said with a smirk, "This dish has a very elegant name. Would you like to know it?"

"In no mood."

"I have to tell you even if I don't want to." He pointed to the sausages sandwiched in the batter. "Remember this, it's called 'Toad in the Hole'."

"Rua—" Draco began to gag.

Judging by their shape and appearance, these sausages do look a lot like a bunch of little Leif.

"You win, Wayne!"

"I'm just saying what I have to say." Vincent pointed to a plate of black sliced sausage. "This stuff tastes awful. I suggest you don't eat it."

"Get away from me!" Draco slapped his hand away. "What's it to me what I like to eat!"

Enjoy your meal.

"Snort!"

Vincent left, a rather sinister smile still on his face.

Draco looked down at his "Toad in the Hole".

It tastes good, but it's really disgusting.

This toad sausage is so tender and juicy, how could the sliced black sausage taste bad?

If you don't welcome him to dine here, just say so. If you're not happy, you can just keep going hungry.

I took a gentle sniff, and the aroma of the fried oil hit my soul.

Is this stuff hard to eat?

Draco took a bite with great relish, his whole little face scrunching up in a grimace.

The fishy and greasy taste was so strong it almost made his soul fly away.

"Rua——"

Vincent calmly turned around.

"Sigh, why don't you just keep trying to persuade them?"

"Great!" Fred and George high-fived each other.

This black pudding was made by Justin Finch-Fletchley, a first-year student at Hufflepuff.

He was Scotland and even knew how to make haggis.

It's just that the cooking time is a little short; it's always somewhere between raw and cooked.

So, since no one wanted to eat the two dishes that were ranked in the top ten of the Britain's dark cuisine, they were simply given to Draco, who hadn't eaten anything yet.

"Cedric said he had an upset stomach and went home to rest," Rolf said, walking over with a regretful expression.

"Merlin's big shorts! Justin is murdering him!"

Vincent grinned mischievously as he pointed to the Slytherin table where only a few people remained.

"Pfft—you guys are so mean~"

"We can't waste food!"

"Yes, yes, you're right!"

Draco had to drink two large glasses of milk to barely suppress the taste in his mouth.

As expected of Vienne, she feinted an attack, thinking it was a basic attack, but it turned out to be her ultimate ability.

There were a few small desserts and a large, smooth meatball left in front of him.

"Meatball?"

In his eyes, Muggle are stupid. What good is making the surface rounder? They still can't cut meatballs into normal sizes.

Any wizard can cast a splitting spell, and the resulting objects will be uniformly sized and smooth!

He had just made a cut with his knife when a dense mass of minced meat gushed out.

"It even has filling?"

It didn't smell like anything, and it didn't taste like black pudding. The texture was even like it was half-cooked.

Overall, it's alright; it's passable food.

Draco was finally able to finish his meal.

He is now spreading jam on a savory scone.

After finishing all these desserts, I was barely about 80% full.

Seeing the few foolish lions looking over, he even glared back with amusement.

Vincent raised his voice slightly. "Justin's haggis is quite popular!"

"Cedric's stomach is really sensitive."

Rolf said with lingering fear, "That half-cooked sheep offal was terrifying. I feel like he could go on pooping until dawn."

Draco loosened his grip, dropping the small cake he was holding.

Haggis, a food that existed in Muggle times.

Wrapped in sheep's stomach, the taste isn't strange, but knowing about it makes you feel nauseous.

If it's half-cooked...

"Rua——"

Not wanting to stay up until dawn, he stuck his fingers down his throat and forced himself to vomit up everything he had just swallowed.

"Nausea!"

"It's filthy!"

His famous scene of blowing rainbows in the Great Hall was witnessed by Marcus and Blaise Zabini, who came together.

"Draco?"

"It's me." He wiped his mouth with a napkin with elegance and composure. "None of these foods are safe to eat."

Blaise Zabini gazed longingly at the various delicate little desserts.

"I've eaten them all," Draco said, raising his little face.

They'd been starving since noon, and they absolutely had to eat something.

"Don't touch the Yorkshire pudding, I licked it!"

"As long as you haven't vomited, it's fine!"

Marcus swallowed it whole.

As the president of the Black Swan Club, Draco generously shared the remaining amount with the two of them.

"What's that smell?" Blaise Zabini looked in the direction of the aroma.

Surprisingly, they'd managed to get a few large pots over at the Gryffindor table for hot pot.

"Slurp—" When Marcus saw their ingredients, the little cake in his hand suddenly didn't taste so good anymore.

"Damn Wayne!" Draco viciously bit off half of an apple pie.

Vincent raised his voice a little, "That's all there is left in the kitchen, everyone help yourselves!"

The Little Badger came running over menacingly.

Cedric, who was leading the group, didn't look like he'd been defecating all afternoon.

Are you alright?

"Madam Pomfrey happens to have the effective medicine."

Draco squeezed hard, and the remaining half of the apple pie splattered all over Blaise Zabini's face.

"Hey, don't waste it!" He wiped his face. "Wayne and the others can go to the kitchen, so can we."

Do you know how to get in?

"Have no idea."

The three of them, who found the dessert increasingly unappetizing, ended up finishing it with milk.

It wasn't too salty; in fact, it was a bit sour.

Why are the Gryffindor allowed free access to the castle, and even able to sneak into their Slytherin dormitories multiple times?

The three of them left with wrinkles on their noses.

The ingredients for the Polyjuice Potion will arrive tomorrow, and it is expected to be ready after the Christmas holidays.

All that's left is for Higgs to get his little thing from Vincent, and then he can parade around with it on his face.

"Success is the only option; failure is not an option!"

Higgs smiled confidently, "I've already made a plan, but I'm afraid a month will make things lose their vitality."

"Don't worry." Draco took out a delicate little box. "This is an alchemical tool that can keep things fresh. It will be fine even if you leave it for a whole year."

"Great!" Higgs took it back to his dorm.

In a month, you should be able to get at least a few hairs.

Marcus then poured cold water on the idea, saying, "Wayne didn't use his full strength during the day, you should already know why, right?"

"Hmph—" Blaise Zabini said with a look of disdain, "They don't represent Slytherin!"

"But we cannot represent the academy either."

Draco narrowed his eyes. "Wayne is trying to divide us, intending to completely isolate us true Pure-blood."

"Those traitors!" Blaise Zabini slammed his hand on the table. "If we teach them a lesson, things will only get worse, won't they?"

"Yes." Marcus shook his head helplessly. "Direct and straightforward, just like his personality."