The Magical Food God of Hogwarts

Chapter 50 What smells so good?

Photographer Bozo stared in disbelief at all this. He was terrified and involuntarily put down his camera. He no longer dared to regard Lucas as an eleven-year-old child.

Skeeter scoffed, "You think this will work? 'False reporting,' ha! I've seen it all, what's a little threat?"

"Oh. So you're used to being reported?" Lucas laughed. "It's alright, I already know. Minister Fudge needs me now. What if I write him a letter to talk about you and ask for a different interviewer..."

Skeeter felt a chill run down her spine. She looked at Lucas in horror, her thick jaw trembling, and the quill pen fell to the ground with a thud.

"You..." she stammered, "What do you want?"

Lucas chuckled, his gaze sharp. "First, delete all your pretentious fabrications. Ms. Skeeter, a certain amount of adaptation and hype is acceptable in order to divert the Ministry of Magic's attention; I understand that as journalists, we need to use artistic embellishment. However, this embellishment must be limited to certain boundaries."

"As long as this article achieves its purpose, that's enough. Anything extra is just your personal creative preference, and I don't want it used on me."

Rita Skeeter gritted her teeth and stared at Lucas.

A Muggle-born orphan, just turned eleven, a boy who hasn't even attended Hogwarts yet?

I bother!

Could he be some old man who turned into a human using compound decoction?

"And one more thing," Lucas continued, "Your interview isn't finished yet. You need to interview me a bit more and report that as well."

"What?" Skeeter was taken aback.

"Cooking skills," Lucas uttered a word that Skeeter hadn't expected at all, "I need you to do an in-depth report on my cooking skills!"

"Although I'm certainly no match for a master chef right now, leaving people with a preliminary impression has been very helpful on my culinary journey."

Skeeter stared at him blankly until Lucas repeated himself, at which point he snapped out of his daze.

She opened her mouth, then quickly closed it again, afraid that she would laugh out loud and anger the formidable boy in front of her.

He could only suppress a laugh, his lips twitching slightly: "Okay, I promise. As long as you can heat milk and fry eggs, I'll praise your cooking skills to the skies. Don't worry, I'm also good at food criticism..."

"Even if you don't know how, it's fine." Bozo finally got a chance to speak. "Lucas, all you have to do is strike a few poses in the kitchen and let me take some pictures. I guarantee the effect will be amazing."

The two looked at each other, their faces turning red from trying not to laugh.

Lucas watched them quietly. "I understand. It seems I have to show off my skills. Shall we have lunch here?"

Skeeter gave a soft snort upon hearing this.

What to eat? This kid doesn't know any magic, let alone cooking magic. He can only operate with his two hands; what can a poor Muggle possibly make?

Fried egg or bacon? Or maybe some spaghetti with ketchup?

Oh! I see. Given this kid's impoverished background, fried bacon is a rare delicacy for him, so he thought it would win us over, hahaha...

Skeeter wanted to laugh out loud, but fearing he might annoy Lucas, he said in a light, coaxing tone, "Okay, dear Lucas, we'll stay and enjoy it."

She stood up and winked at Bozo: "It's still early, let's interview the others first and not disturb the chef while he prepares lunch."

......

Skeeter and Bozo then went to Tonks and Hannah to conduct additional interviews with them separately.

Lucas went straight to the bar and explained his purpose to Tom. Upon hearing that Lucas was willing to cook lunch, Tom beamed and immediately handed over the kitchen to Lucas.

"Today's ingredients include beef, pork, hen, cod... and all kinds of fresh vegetables, they're all yours."

Lucas washed his hands, examined the meat, and already had a recipe in mind.

Skeeter and his group arrived early, and there was still plenty of time to prepare. Lucas laughed, recalling the disdain in their words.

After these days of experimentation and seeing the reactions of so many wizards after tasting it, I have gained ample confidence in my Muggle cooking skills. Even though I'm far from being a master chef, I can still satisfy the taste buds of wizards.

If I can win over this reporter and gain some recognition beforehand, it will be very beneficial to my culinary journey.

Lucas picked out the hen and patted it gently.

Well then, let me be serious this time.

......

"...What smells so good?"

Skeeter originally intended to interview another party, Tonks, first, and then Lucas's peer, Hannah, but Tonks was still fast asleep, so she had to switch the interview order.

Now, the interview with Tonks was coming to an end. Skeeter glanced at the parchment, very satisfied with the results, and was about to add a few strokes when suddenly he sniffed out an extremely rich and mellow fragrance.

Tonks had been frowning, wanting to peek through the parchment to see what Skeeter had written. The interview was completely different from what she had imagined; Skeeter showed no interest in her battle with the dark wizard or her speculations about the wizard's identity, focusing instead on how Lucas had made his grand entrance, how he had saved her, and her feelings about being saved.

Feelings? Of course, gratitude, and surprise at Lucas, this little boy. What else could it be?

She watched the quill pen flutter wildly, and then she remembered reading a few reports written by Rita Skeeter before, and was somewhat impressed by that kind of exaggerated language. Suddenly, a bad feeling welled up in her heart.

But just as she was about to speak, she suddenly smelled a warm and comforting fragrance, and her eyes lit up.

"It's stewed chicken!"

Suddenly, Hannah's voice rang out in the hallway: "It smells so good! Uncle Tom, are you stewing chicken? It smells amazing!"

Tom's cheerful laughter came from downstairs: "It's Lucas. Come on over, I've already had over a dozen groups of customers asking about it, or we'll miss out!"

Lucas!

Tonks jumped up. "Hey, weren't we supposed to cook dinner once a day? How come he's starting to cook lunch now?"

Never mind, having just dealt with the strange Skeeter, the rich aroma of chicken soup kept wafting into my nose, and I immediately felt hungry.

"I'm here, wait for me!"

She shouted and ran outside in a flash, but before she knew it, her robe got caught on the headboard and she almost fell to the ground.

Skeeter and Bozo exchanged a glance, both seeing deep surprise on each other's faces.

Is this chicken stewed by Lucas? It smells so good, tastes so good, and feels so warming!

How come I never noticed before that stewed chicken could smell so good?

Could this kid actually be quite skilled? No, impossible, Tom Abbott must be helping him cheat!

Skeeter slammed the crocodile-skin handbag shut and strode out.

"Let's go down there. I want to see what tricks he can pull!"