The Wrath of a Dish

Ron stared at Hagrid for a moment, then laughed.

"A work? Mr. Grey's certainly made something worth showing off. Just about everyone here enjoys it every day."

Ron swept a hand toward the wizards around the bar.

"But Mr. Grey's work isn't a piece of music. It's food."

"Food?"

Hagrid didn't follow.

"You mean the kind of food we put in our mouths?"

"What other kind is there? Mr. Grey's cooking is out of this world. One bite leaves people speechless. Stranger still, the dishes he makes can have all sorts of peculiar powers."

"That sounds a bit far-fetched. Is he a cook or a Potions brewer?"

Disbelief was written all over Hagrid's face.

"Heh. I knew you'd say that."

Seeing his reaction, Ron crooked a finger at Hagrid with a mysterious air.

Hagrid bent down, resting his considerable weight on the counter.

"What are you up to now?"

"Let you taste something good. Don't let anyone see. It took me ages to save this until today."

Ron lowered his voice and slipped out a cabbage as though he were stealing it.

It wasn't the Rock Sugar Biting Cabbage sold in the pub. It was a little snack Grey had made for himself. It was troublesome to prepare and tasted just a shade worse than the rock-sugar version, so Grey hadn't put it up for sale. He kept it for himself and gave Ron a little.

"What's this? Cabbage?"

Hagrid pinched the Biting Cabbage from Ron's hand. In anyone else's palm it had some heft, but in his, it looked like a sesame seed.

"Here, one for our Chosen One too."

Ron smiled kindly at Harry and handed him one.

As if they'd planned it, the two looked down at the cabbages in their hands, paused, then popped them into their mouths together.

"So good!"

The moment their teeth broke through the cabbage, the fragrance trapped inside burst across their tongues. Harry had never eaten anything so delicious, and his eyes stung with tears. Hagrid wasn't much better off. With his half-giant's clumsy tongue and enormous appetite, he'd never cared whether food tasted good, only whether it filled him up. This was the first time he truly understood what delicious meant.

"This... this is bloody delicious!"

Hagrid's voice trembled.

"Got any more? Give me some."

"Can't. Mr. Grey made these for himself. You couldn't buy them if you tried."

Ron refused him flatly.

"If you're craving more, wait outside the kitchen tomorrow at noon. You can buy a serving then. But fair warning: Mr. Grey's food isn't cheap."

"How expensive can one dish be?"

Hagrid thought nothing of it.

"Heh, you've got the wrong idea. Mr. Grey makes his dishes from Fantastic Beasts or magical plants. The ingredients alone cost money, and then there's his skill. Not one dish he's sold has cost less than one Galleon."

Ron looked proud. After all, every one of those dishes had come out of his kitchen.

"One Galleon for a dish?"

Hagrid's eyes went wide.

Harry didn't yet know what one Galleon was worth, but from Hagrid's expression, he could tell it was a lot.

"No less than one Galleon. At its most expensive, a single Salamander Sausage sold for twenty Galleons."

Ron said.

"That much..."

Hagrid smacked his lips, then suddenly caught on.

"Wait. What did you say he cooks with?"

"Fantastic Beasts or magical plants. What you just ate was Biting Cabbage."

Ron answered.

Hagrid's expression changed in an instant.

"How could he do that!"

Hagrid's voice rose sharply.

"Using parts from Fantastic Beasts to brew Potions is cruel enough. How can he treat Fantastic Beasts like meat for the pot!"

His anger made Harry jump. The big man had been friendly all along, but he stood over three meters tall, like a small mountain. When he got angry, he was frightening.

"Ah, Hagrid, I still don't understand you. Just like I couldn't understand why you left Hogwarts over that business."

Ron shrugged.

"Right, sorry. I brought up something you don't like talking about. Let's leave it there. Two rooms? It's getting late, and plenty of shops in Diagon Alley have closed up."

"Two rooms."

Hagrid tried hard to push down the hurt he felt.

"Put me as far from that boy as you can."

He was so angry he didn't even want to be near Grey.

"Ha, you couldn't get close to him if you wanted to. Every room beside Mr. Grey's, even the ones above and below, has been booked. People want him to sleep peacefully, without anyone disturbing him and spoiling tomorrow's cooking."

Chuckling, Ron took out two sets of keys and handed them to Hagrid.

"Second floor. I know you've stayed here plenty of times, but I'm saying it anyway: take care of the key. Don't snap it again."

"That's because your keys are too flimsy. Honestly, I barely use any force."

Hagrid muttered.

"I could make you a key out of mithril and it'd still bend in your hand."

Ron rolled his eyes, then gave Harry a kindly smile.

"Sleep well, Mr. Potter. Tomorrow you can see the magical world in all its glory."

Harry nodded. He was looking forward to tomorrow morning's magical outing. Riding the Underground hadn't felt the least bit magical.

That was right: Hagrid had brought him to the Leaky Cauldron by Underground. There hadn't been a trace of mystery about the journey.