The Magical Food God of Hogwarts

Chapter 34 A Troublesome Kid

Half an hour later, Hannah led Lucas out of the Leaky Cauldron and knocked on the door of Diagon Alley.

Hearing that Lucas didn't know where the Diagon Alley business administration office was, Hannah volunteered to be his guide in order to repay him for his delicious soup. The two chatted as they navigated through the dense crowds of Diagon Alley.

Hannah Abbott was a naive young girl. Before Lucas could even ask, she poured out her heart to him about herself and her family. Only then did Lucas learn that the Abbott family was a very ancient and prestigious pure-blood wizarding family.

One of the "Holy Twenty-Eight"? Sounds impressive. No wonder Tom Abbott can be the owner of the Leaky Cauldron, which connects the Muggle and Wizarding worlds.

Then Hannah said nonchalantly, "My mother is a Muggle-born wizard, so I'm half-blood. Of course, my family isn't like those old crazy families; nobody really cares about that."

Lucas's heart skipped a beat. It seemed the wizarding world had differing opinions on bloodlines, but some ancient families highly valued so-called pureblood...

"Lucas, where do you live?" Hannah asked curiously.

"It's really, really far from London, in the Scottish Highlands. My family are all Muggles."

Lucas told Hannah about the open fields, meadows, hillsides, and cattle and sheep, the exceptionally blue sky, and the wind blowing through the valleys. The bustling farm life, teeming with livestock, filled Hannah with envy.

"Lucas, your house is so much fun! I really want to trade places with you. Our castle is so boring, it's all dark and covered in cobwebs..."

The two finally arrived at a crooked two-story building. Lucas thought that if it weren't for the neighbors on both sides supporting it, it would have collapsed immediately.

But pushing open the creaking wooden door revealed a surprisingly spacious interior; the small, dilapidated house on the outside contained a very grand hall. In the center of the hall was an information desk, with many doors on either side, each labeled with a different office.

There was no one else in the hall. They saw a middle-aged witch with a gloomy face sitting behind the information desk, leaning back in an armchair, holding a copy of the Daily Prophet. The witch's long face clearly said, "Leave me alone."

Hannah whispered, "Uh, Lucas, I'm not sure if it's break time now. Maybe we should come back later?"

Lucas shook his head. What organization has a break at 10 a.m.? He walked straight up.

"Hello, ma'am?"

The witch glanced at Lucas sideways, her gaze lingering on the jeans peeking out from under his robe.

"I want to set up a food stall in Diagon Alley. What are the procedures?"

The witch put down her newspaper in surprise: "You? A food stall?"

She immediately became annoyed: "Listen, we're very busy here, we don't have time to joke with you!"

She buried her head in the newspaper again and snorted, "Kids these days are so unruly, playing house without even knowing where they are..."

"Madam, I'm serious. I'd like to set up a small stall in Diagon Alley, selling fried food and refreshing drinks." Lucas stood in front of the information desk, which was built so high that even with his height, which was above average for his age, only his shoulders were visible.

The witch clicked her tongue loudly and looked down at Lucas from above the newspaper: "How old are you?"

"Eleven years old, ma'am," Lucas said.

"Ha!" The witch shook the newspaper. "So, you didn't even go to school?"

"Ma'am, whether I go to school or not has no necessary connection with whether I can apply for a stall permit, right?"

These words clearly enraged the witch. She threw the newspaper on the table, propped herself up on her hands, and glared at Lucas: "Listen, child. I don't care what you're trying to do. This is the business administration office, not a daycare. If there's anything wrong, have your parents come and handle it."

"But unless your system stipulates otherwise—"

"I told you, call your parents over!" the witch's voice suddenly rose.

Lucas calmly said, "My parents are both gone, I can make my own decisions."

Hannah immediately covered her mouth, realizing that in the farm story she had just heard, there was no trace of Lucas's parents, only noisy cattle and sheep, and an elderly grandfather.

The once vibrant and interesting farm has suddenly changed... Orphaned and destitute Lucas now has to rely on herding cattle and sheep and doing farm work every day to support himself and his grandfather...

My goodness, Lucas is such a good cook because he has only ever cooked for himself since he was a child!

The thought of little Lucas standing in a dark room, vigorously stirring a large pot, while his elderly grandfather coughed and groaned next door, almost brought Hannah to tears.

Merlin, I just told him, "Your house is so much fun..."

"I'm sorry, Lucas, I...I don't know..." Hannah said, her eyes brimming with tears.

The witch curtly replied, "I'm sorry." But there was no hint of apology in her tone.

“But sympathy won’t solve anything,” the witch continued. “You’re far too young. And you’re a Muggle… I mean, you don’t have a wizard in your family, right?”

"You don't understand our world at all. Letting you set up a food stall would cause a lot of trouble and be very dangerous. Let you study at Hogwarts for a few years first."

Lucas's lips moved, but he held back. Just then, Hannah's voice rang out beside him.

"Madam! You're only in charge of inquiring; whether someone is eligible to apply is not your responsibility, is it?"

Hannah's round face turned bright red, and she twisted the hem of her clothes with both hands. Lucas could even see her legs trembling.

But she still stood by his side.

"Why can't you just tell us which office to go to? The person in charge there will tell Lucas whether he is qualified to make an application."

……

With a loud bang, the wooden door was almost smashed apart.

Without a doubt, Lucas and Hannah were kicked out.

Hannah's words enraged the witch, and the floor in front of the interrogation table rippled like waves, shoving the two of them out.

Standing at the door, Hannah regretted saying the wrong thing and walked forward dejectedly, her two braids drooping in front of her chest.

"Don't worry about Hannah," Lucas comforted her. "No matter what you say, she won't help. Thank you very much for speaking up for her."

Hannah forced a smile and glanced at Lucas with concern.

Oh dear, what should we do now?

Lucas must be really poor; he only resorted to setting up a stall because he had no money... Will he be unable to afford school? How much money is he short? I wonder if my allowance is enough. I shouldn't have spent it so recklessly; I could have saved more...

Back at the Leaky Cauldron, Lucas's huge pile of materials was still stacked in the corner. Tom saw the expressions on their faces and seemed to have already guessed this outcome.

He tossed aside the rag in his hand: "Looks like it's a failure?"

Lucas nodded and recounted what had happened. Hannah, as if grasping at a straw, grabbed Tom's arm: "Uncle Tom, please help me! You have a way, right?"

"Hmm, let me think..." Tom drawled.

"That's right!" Lucas thought to himself. The Leaky Cauldron held such a special position, and the Abbot family was one of the Twenty-Eight Holy Clans. Tom might just look like a toothless, withered old man, but he must actually be very powerful!

He couldn't help but feel excited, and Hannah shook Tom's arm vigorously.

"Don't worry, Lucas," Tom finally spoke with a smile, "I can write you a letter of introduction to vouch for you, but—"

Lucas immediately realized what was happening: "Mr. Abbott, what do I need to give in return?"

Tom smiled, his eyes crinkling, and his face, which had been wrinkled like dried orange peel, relaxed. "Well, then we need to talk about it."