"There it is—the place I mentioned where you can stay," Rhys said, scratching his head, a flicker of unease in his heart. Why had Dumbledore chosen Lupett's Dessert Shop as the interview location? Had he sensed something unusual? Even stranger, his reply had come far too quickly.
From the time the letter was received, to the reply being written and sent out again, the entire process had taken less than ten minutes. Even considering the magical efficiency of owls, that speed was abnormal.
Then, upon asking about the interview time and learning it was to happen immediately, Rhys suddenly understood: Dumbledore was in Diagon Alley right now. It was very possible that the owl had barely taken flight before it spotted Dumbledore's signature white beard in the crowd.
"Want to come with me to the dessert shop?" Now that she knew Rhys's so-called residence was the sweet shop in question, Helga invited him along to accompany her—perhaps even observe the interview on the side.
"Sure, I'll lead the way," Rhys said, striding ahead to guide Helga toward Lupett's Dessert Shop.
On the way, he noticed that Helga kept glancing at the shop windows lining the street.
"Incredible, isn't it? The wizarding world has become so prosperous. Back in our time, we didn't have such a flourishing magical high street."
Helga nodded, but a faint sense of dissonance stirred in her heart.
Such apparent prosperity in the wizarding world felt at odds with its stagnating—or even regressing—level of magical development. The contrast was jarring.
After thinking it over, she concluded that the cause must be the Statute of Secrecy. Under its restrictions, wizarding settlements hadn't suffered much, but the "marketplaces" necessary for shopping had taken a major hit.
Helga suspected that most of the magical marketplaces across Britain had been funneled into this single location, creating an abnormal and distorted prosperity. In their era, one could find magical shops tucked into every town corner—now, those had probably vanished completely.
"How did you end up opening a dessert shop?" The topic quickly shifted to Rhys's store.
Helga was quite surprised to learn that Salazar had funded a dessert shop. After all, the old snake had always been skilled in and fond of potion-making—it was she who had always been more interested in food-related magic.
So how had he gotten involved with a dessert shop? Could it be that he'd laced the desserts with something, making customers dependent on them?
Rhys had no idea what was going through Helga's mind—if he had, he'd likely have cursed out loud in frustration. If he had that kind of time and energy, wouldn't he have just opened a proper potion shop? What kind of nonsense would it be to go through all that for something so roundabout?
He had merely provided a bit of startup funding to a werewolf he'd taken in. Opening a dessert shop had been her idea.
"It wasn't my idea," Rhys said, and explained Lupett's story to Helga. After hearing it, she looked at him with a rather strange expression.
"What?" Rhys noticed the odd look in Helga's eyes.
"You really have changed. The Salazar I knew would have killed that werewolf without hesitation, not spared her life, gone through the trouble of healing her with spells, and given her money. It's unbelievable—are you really the same old friend of mine named Salazar Slytherin?"
Rhys rubbed his hands together. He had asked himself that question before—and come to a clear answer.
"Because Godric and I proved that slaughter wasn't the solution to the werewolf problem. But the spells you and Rowena created are." Rhys explained to Helga that the wizarding world was now promoting the use of the Human Restoration Charm that returned werewolves to human form.
"It's very possible that this century will see the extinction of the werewolf race."
Helga: !!!
"I never imagined that spell could end up being so powerful," Helga said with a sigh, genuinely amazed.
Back then, she and her friend had created the spell as a simple act of kindness, never expecting it would someday wipe out the infamous affliction of lycanthropy.
In fact, she secretly used to think Salazar and Godric's approach—elimination—was more effective. She had simply been too soft-hearted to approve.
The Lupett Dessert Shop wasn't located in some obscure corner, so the two of them arrived outside it fairly quickly.
Business had been quite good over the past year. Lupett had even reinvested some profits to expand the shop. She built a small courtyard beside the dessert shop, where customers could enjoy their sweets in a pleasant open-air space.
Albus Dumbledore was already seated in that courtyard, waiting for "Miss White."
In front of him were several plates stacked with desserts and a large glass of ice cream—leaving Helga stunned as she entered and saw the spread.
"Miss Smith White, correct? Please, have a seat!" Dumbledore recognized immediately that she was the one who had written to apply for a position, and warmly invited her to join him for a chat.
He also noticed Rhys, who had brought Miss White here, but didn't think much of it—Dumbledore knew this shop was owned by a relative of Rhys. His presence was perfectly normal, so Dumbledore simply greeted him with a wave and wished him a pleasant holiday.
"Would you like some dessert? I'd heard there was a dessert shop in Diagon Alley, but hadn't found the time to visit until today. And just as I got a rare bit of free time—your application letter arrived. What a present coincidence." He conjured two empty plates and two sets of cutlery, passing one set to Helga and keeping the other for himself.
"Try some. The specialty here is Muggle-style sweets—quite different from the usual confections we see around, with a flavor all their own." Dumbledore enthusiastically recommended the signature dessert of the Lupett Dessert Shop.
He was clearly in a very good mood after finally getting to taste something new and delightful.
That warmth and cheer were contagious. Touched by Dumbledore's geniality, Helga—though not particularly fond of desserts—picked up a round pastry and gave it a try. The puff, as it was called, turned out to be surprisingly pleasant, not cloyingly sweet as she had feared.
Since Dumbledore had offered her a dessert, Helga didn't want to be outdone in courtesy. She took out two cups and offered Dumbledore a glass of grape wine–flavored water.
"Brilliant food magic!" Dumbledore was thoroughly impressed by Helga's spell. After taking a small sip of the drink she had offered, he couldn't help but praise her enthusiastically.
"Just a simple illusion—at its core, it's still just water." Helga waved her hand, and the wine in both cups reverted to clear water.
Dumbledore's expression became even more animated.
Just moments ago, he had assumed Miss White had used some kind of food magic to summon wine stored elsewhere into the cups. But now, after her explanation, he realized this was a spell entirely unfamiliar to him—one he had never seen nor heard of before.
That revelation sparked genuine curiosity in Dumbledore. He was now truly interested in the woman before him and wanted to have a proper conversation with her.
_______
Read 12 Chapters ahead:
Patreon: HornyFBI