"If only Harry could come too."
Sirius muttered, his voice full of regret and guilt.
"He loves this stuff. Last summer, when you weren't home, he could eat it whenever he wanted."
"Now he's stuck on Privet Drive, chewing dry sandwiches and putting up with that pig of a cousin."
"It's for his own good."
Without even looking up, Douglas placed a freshly cooked quail egg in Sirius's bowl.
"The Blood Protection Magic requires him to spend enough time there. Besides, things are too chaotic out there right now."
"I know, I know."
Sirius scratched his hair irritably.
"But I'm just... unhappy about it. I'm his godfather. I should be looking after him, not dumping him with those awful Muggles."
He suddenly stood, his chair scraping harshly across the floor.
"Dobby!"
Sirius called out.
Dobby, dressed in a high-end chef's uniform, appeared silently beside the dining table.
Dobby wore a brand-new Bluetooth earpiece on his ear. Although it was only decorative for now, he planned to find some time to modify it with magic (this was the latest thing he had learned from Muggle films).
He also held a snow-white napkin.
"What can Dobby do for you, sir? Dobby is roasting meat in the kitchen..."
"Roast some more."
Sirius pointed at the tableful of dishes.
"Then pack up a selection of these. A portion of everything. The best meat, the biggest prawns, and those... what were those meatballs called?"
"Juice-squirting beef balls, sir," Dobby replied respectfully.
"Right, the ones that squirt. Pack those too."
Sirius waved his arms like a bandit chief directing a robbery.
"And that hot pot base, extra spicy. Harry likes spicy food. Pack two bottles of ice-cold cola too, with ice cubes."
"Take it to Harry."
"But..."
Dobby glanced hesitantly at Douglas.
"Sir said not to