Sugar Threads from the East

Cedric had nearly backed himself into a corner.

He knew about Snape's improved Draught of Euphoria. Snape had added peppermint and eliminated the side effects.

But Cedric had been so caught up in the patent issue that he had ruled peppermint out altogether.

When it finally clicked, he slapped his thigh. As long as he didn't put peppermint in a potion and used it only to make candy, who could give him trouble?

Once he saw the answer, everything else fell into place.

Peppermint had a fresh scent and a hint of coolness. It could be used as a seasoning or a medicine.

It had no magical properties to speak of and hardly counted as a special ingredient. But its flavor was exactly what the Draught of Euphoria candy lacked.

Its medicinal edge cut through the potion's cloying sweetness, leaving a refreshing hint of bitterness instead of a sugary aftertaste.

In candy, it was just right.

He wrote the recipe in the notebook he used for cooking, closed it, and headed into the kitchen.

Candy-making wasn't exactly effortless, but for a small batch of hard candy, a frying pan would do.

Cedric melted sugar in the pan, then added about three drops of his own blended Draught of Euphoria.

That was enough.

He wanted candy that made people happy, not candy that left them grinning like idiots for half a day after one bite.

The syrup began to change. Its amber color slowly turned pale gold before his eyes.

"The color looks good."

Cedric nodded at the pan. He was about to cool the syrup when he realized he didn't have a mold.

Ron's kitchen clearly wasn't going to have anything that specialized, either.

He had been about to cast a quick Transfiguration Spell and turn something into a makeshift mold, but then his hand twitched. He suddenly wanted to try something else.

Staring at the syrup in the pan, he muttered, "I wonder if it'll work with just sugar and no maltose."

His hands itched to get started.

In the end, he decided to go for it. Three drops of his blended Draught of Euphoria cost next to nothing. If he botched it, he could cook another batch.

He wanted to make something fancy.

He would use this maltose-free syrup to make Dragon's Beard Candy and let those sheltered wizards taste a rare treat from the East.

He grabbed a handful of starch and scattered it evenly over the clean countertop, then set the slightly cooled syrup on top.

Coated in starch, the syrup was less sticky.

Cedric rolled it into a rope, folded and kneaded it, then dusted it with more starch, gradually working it into a ring.

Syrup without maltose really was difficult to handle. As soon as its temperature dropped a little, it began to harden.

But that was no obstacle.

The temperature of his palms rose. He drew Dragon Breath Flame into a thread of heat so fine it clung to his hands, turning them into two "branding irons."

As he stretched the sugar ring, the heat softened the hardening sections just enough for him to fold them quickly.

Before long, he had folded the ring back on itself nine times. What had started as a thick loop was now a handful of fine sugar threads.

Nine folds had produced 512 threads, and under his careful hands, not one had snapped.

"One last pull!"

Cedric gave a shout, folded the threads once more, and stretched them out the same way.

Making Dragon's Beard Candy really did take strength. If his body hadn't been strengthened, he never would have managed it.

The Dragon's Beard Candy was done.

He cut the threads into even little lengths, rolled each portion into a ball, and arranged them on a plate. He ended up with ten pieces.

He popped one into his mouth. The starch-dusted threads were impossibly fine. All 1,024 melted the moment they touched his tongue, yet somehow left behind a wonderfully delicate chew.

Even better was their distinctive fresh scent. It perked him up at once.

Cedric immediately felt lighter, his mood brighter, as though all that work had taken no effort at all.

"Hawke's Candy Workshop doesn't make Dragon's Beard Candy, but this is enough for what I need. It makes people happy and gives them a boost."

He nodded twice in satisfaction.

He put two pieces of Dragon's Beard Candy into a paper bag, covered the rest with a cloth, and carried the plate out of the kitchen.

He made quite a sight carrying a plate, but today, hardly anyone in the Leaky Cauldron had the presence of mind to look at him.

Several regulars who often ate his cooking were slumped over their tables, looking utterly defeated. Who knew what was going through their heads?

Harry and Hagrid got quite a fright when they came through the door.

At first, they thought everyone in the Leaky Cauldron had eaten something bad. Then they spotted Ron slumped over the counter with the same miserable look and realized something else was wrong.

"Ron, what happened to all of you?"

Hagrid walked up to the counter and asked.

"Ah... don't ask. It was Mr. Cecil's dish."

Ron sighed, and even that sounded bitter.

"I think I know why he made it, but I still want to tell him never to make anything like that again."

"Cecil's dish? Didn't you say he was a brilliant cook? Why do you all look like this? Did it actually give you the runs?"

Hagrid laughed at their expense.

"I told you those Fantastic Beasts weren't meant to be eaten!"

"It did upset my stomach a bit, but it had nothing to do with Fantastic Beasts."

Ron still looked miserable as he said it, and his hand drifted to his slightly swollen mouth.

The burning pain in his lips seemed to linger from lunch.

And it wasn't just his mouth. His backside was suffering too.

Hardly anyone noticed his fingers shift ever so slightly toward it.