Hogwarts: Third Dark Lord

Wentworth gently scratched the pear in the fruit bowl of the painting, and it immediately transformed into a green door handle. With a light twist, the door to the Hogwarts kitchen swung open.

As soon as he entered the kitchen, Wentworth was quickly noticed by the house-elves of Hogwarts. A large number of them gathered around him.

"Sir, is there anything we can do for you? Perhaps a little dessert first? How about a chocolate-filled profiterole?"

Wentworth accepted the profiterole handed to him by a house-elf and took a small bite. The rich chocolate flavor exploded across his taste buds.

"It's absolutely delicious! Thank you!"

He spoke with genuine gratitude, feeling more certain than ever about his decision to attend Hogwarts. He was also immensely satisfied with being sorted into Hufflepuff.

Originally, Ravenclaw had been an option in his plans, but Wentworth clearly preferred the persona of a foodie to that of an academic.

Hearing his praise, the house-elves began dancing joyfully, their excitement palpable.

Wentworth then retrieved a piece of paper from his pocket, which listed several ingredients he had written down.

"Could you help me gather these ingredients? I'll need them tomorrow."

One of the elves took the list from Wentworth, and the others crowded around eagerly to look at it while Wentworth leisurely continued enjoying his chocolate-filled treat.

"Mr. Wentworth," one elf said hesitantly, "the items on your list aren't difficult to find, but many of them will require us to go into the Muggle world to purchase. These items are rarely consumed here at Hogwarts."

At this, the elf hesitated, as though reluctant to continue, but another elf stepped in to explain:

"So, Mr. Wentworth, we might only have everything ready by noon tomorrow."

The elves all looked embarrassed, their heads hanging in shame.

Wentworth, however, remained unbothered. In fact, he thought the elves were being rather polite.

The ingredients on his list weren't just uncommon at Hogwarts—they were likely unfamiliar to most people in Britain. The fact that the elves could gather them by tomorrow noon was already impressive.

"It's perfectly fine. If any of the ingredients are truly hard to find, missing one or two won't be an issue. Just as long as they're ready before lunch tomorrow."

Hearing this, the elves heaved a collective sigh of relief. The elf who had initially expressed hesitation perked up again.

"Not to worry, Mr. Wentworth! We'll ensure everything is ready by lunch tomorrow!"

"Are you planning to prepare a dish with these ingredients? If you'd like, you can share the recipe with us, and we'll make it for you and have it ready by then."

This time, however, Wentworth declined their kind offer with a smile.

"No need. Cooking it myself will make it more enjoyable. See you tomorrow at noon!"

Although the house-elves seemed a bit disappointed that Wentworth had turned down their offer, they still cheerfully bade him farewell.

The next morning, Wentworth was just leaving his dormitory when he ran into Cedric in the Hufflepuff common room, already waiting for him.

"Good morning, Wentworth! Fancy grabbing breakfast together? Afterward, I'll show you around Hogwarts."

Wentworth happily accepted Cedric's invitation, and the two headed to the Great Hall.

"You know," Cedric said cheerfully, "I wrote to my father last night to let him know you'd been sorted into Hufflepuff. This morning, I received his reply by owl. He's absolutely delighted and asked me to take good care of you."

"Is that so? Mr. Diggory is truly a kind man," Wentworth replied.

At that moment, Wentworth realized he hadn't purchased an owl. Neither had Rosier reminded him. It seemed he'd have to find time to get himself a pet.

After breakfast, Cedric led Wentworth around the Hogwarts castle, pointing out the classrooms they'd need for their lessons this term. This, Cedric explained, would save Wentworth from scrambling to find them later.

As they passed a small, windowless room with a single oil lamp hanging from the low ceiling, Cedric suddenly lowered his voice.

"Remember, don't go near this room. Stay away from it at all costs."

Cedric's mysterious demeanor immediately piqued Wentworth's curiosity.

One of the main reasons Wentworth had insisted on coming to Hogwarts was to uncover its secrets and mysteries.

Trying to suppress his excitement, he asked softly but eagerly, "Cedric, what's in there? Is it a room where Hogwarts keeps cursed objects?"

Cedric shook his head.

"Is it a place where magical creatures are kept?"

Another shake of the head.

Wentworth's curiosity was now in overdrive.

"Or is it a room tied to some tragic event?"

This time, Cedric nodded solemnly.

"How tragic?"

"Heartbreaking beyond imagination!"

Wentworth was stunned. He had thought the tragic story of Moaning Myrtle in the girls' bathroom on the third floor was the only one of its kind. To think there was another room with such a grim history!

Glancing back at the room, Wentworth felt a chill run down his spine. "What exactly is that room used for?" he asked nervously.

Cedric's expression grew grave.

"That's the room of Argus Filch, the caretaker of Hogwarts!"

Wentworth: "..."

Seeing Wentworth's lack of enthusiasm, Cedric asked, "Aren't you curious about what Filch does?"

"I think I can guess," Wentworth replied flatly.

By late morning, Cedric was about to head to the Great Hall for lunch when Wentworth stopped him.

"Cedric, thanks for the steak last night. Today, I've prepared something special for you—a dish I've made myself!"

With that, Wentworth pulled Cedric along toward the Hufflepuff common room.

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