I do not own Harry Potter, the Wizarding World, or any canon characters.

Hello everyone! Hope all are doing well.

Welcome to the start of my newest project. This was what I alluded to last week in saying if things went well, I'd be starting something new and special. I have been thinking about and planning this story for a while now but hadn't started writing until recently. I hadn't worked out all the details yet but have a rough overall idea of things and points to hit. I was also somewhat intimidated by the scale of things because this is going to be another very large and long project.

If you have read any of my other works, you'll know that cooking is a passion of mine. I love cooking and food and this fanfic will be my homage to that and how it can have an impact as part of the Wizarding World. This will be an alternate universe and it will not be canon compliant. That being said, I am hoping to try and stay in character for most canon characters, like my other stories.

I'm hoping to explore some things and facets that I would love to see in the setting while making a fun slice-of-life story. I am trying to challenge myself and try to write a few different things for this story, while keeping some of my favorite elements. I try to write different stories each time but this will still have themes of family and friendship and overcoming past pain. And cooking of course.

What does this mean going forward? Well I have a bit of a bank of both this story prepared and Extended Family. Every week I will try to do my usual two posts, a chapter of each story with the occasional extra post depending on the week. I have no plans to end Extended Family yet and with this new project, I'll be able to have plenty more to update over time.

As always, I am grateful for your time and attention. I write for you. I write to provide you some entertainment, some way to escape the day. I love hearing how my stories help you smile, to give you something to read and think about. I am honored that that you spend your time with me. I hope that you will enjoy your time with this story and am glad that we can share another journey with each other.

Thank you for reading, commenting, following, and favoriting. It means so very much to me.

Thank you for being a part of my fanfiction family.

And now, borrowing the words of one of my very favorite programs with a bit of a twist: With an open heart and an empty stomach, I say onto you in the words of my muse: Allez Cuisine!

-0-0-0-

A Taste of Magic

1st Course – A New Flavor

Harry Potter was used to being stared at.

He had a variety of reasons for it. His hair was very messy and wayward. He had a very large lightning bolt shaped scar on his forehead. Before, whenever he was seen next to his relations, it was always commented that he looked very different compared to them in all sorts of ways: physical body shape and demeanor. One of his favorite things to do in the world also garnered him a lot of attention, mostly positive thankfully.

Since learning that he was a wizard, as in actual magic and not figurative, the staring and the attention did not change at all. Whenever someone from the Wizarding World learned of his name, they would stop and stare at him too. Like in the Muggle world, what the magical or Wizarding one called the non-magical one, the staring could vary in intensity and interest, though it seemed people in the magical one were interested in his name as much as his appearance.

That did not mean he enjoyed it however. Sitting here in his Potions class, being stared at by his fellow students and the professor, was not enjoyable at all.

There was a tiny difference this time. This time he was doing something that he did not think would be so stare-worthy, and apparently it was.

"I said, what are you doing, Potter," Severus Snape, Head of Slytherin and Potions professor said. He was tall and thin, towering over Harry. His eyes were very intense, almost unkind. Something Harry was unsure if he was imagining or not.

"I was…tasting the ingredients, Sir," Harry said sheepishly.

Snickers and outright laughter could be heard from half of the students, while the other stared at him with frank disbelief.

"Tasting them," Snape repeated in a tone of contempt. "And why would you be doing that?"

Harry coughed. "Well, uh, I read that some of the materials were similar to non-magical ingredients. The glass chives came from the same plant family as regular chives. And the water ginger is another kind of ginger. So I was curious to see if they tasted the same."

Snape's frown made him look even more displeased. In this case however, his frown was not from displeasure. At least not solely from displeasure. There was confusion in it as well. "Your book should not be describing the ingredients in that fashion, not yet."

"I bought an extra book when I was at the store, when I was getting my supplies." Harry squirmed a little from the scrutiny. "The book describes ingredients and talks about the way they relate to Muggle plants and what can be used for either of them."

"I know of it. It is not on your book list. What possessed you to purchase it?" Snape asked, growing more confused and just a little curious.

"It looked interesting and it seemed useful for something I like to do," Harry said quietly.

"Which is?" Snape prompted.

"I like to cook," Harry said at last. "And I was curious if the magical plants tasted like the Muggle ones."

A snort of derision could be heard on either side of the classroom, prompting more snickers and whispered comments. Snape's eyes flicked to the side and then back to Harry. "You like to cook," he repeated slowly.

"Yes Sir." Harry shrugged weakly. "I thought I'd like potions because it would be a lot like cooking."

Snape looked at Harry for a long moment, his face curiously blank. "The sooner you realize that brewing potions is not the same as cooking, the better," he said at last. "For example, in cooking, tasting the ingredients in a certain order is less likely to poison you than in potion making."

Harry gulped, as did a lot of the other students.

"Next time I watch you doing so, I will continue to watch," Snape said softly. "Am I clear?"

Harry nodded.

"That goes for all of you," Snape said, addressing the class. "Do not eat or taste the ingredients." He waited for the chorus of replies to fade. "As you were," he said and continued on.

Harry looked down at the desk, face red with embarrassment. The whispers continued, everyone staring. Snape continued to look at Harry with a complicated expression before a violently bubbling cauldron drove the incident from his mind.

-0-

"What is your problem?"

Harry sighed and turned. "I was just curious," he said wanly. "I didn't think about how I could get poisoned."

Seamus Finnegan glared at Harry. "Well you should've! Now we're the laughing stock of the school because we got someone who was eating things in Potions!"

"I wasn't eating them," Harry said, growing defensive. "They're described as similar to regular chive and ginger and like I said, I wanted to see how they tasted. I didn't think it was a big deal." He looked around. Seamus had stopped him a few hallways down from the Potions' classroom and the other boys from his House were around him. The girls from the House had walked past but had stopped a little farther down to watch.

"At least he made up a reason," Dean Thomas said in what he thought was a soothing way. It had the opposite effect unfortunately.

"I didn't make up a reason," Harry said shortly. "I do like to cook."

"You're eleven, you don't know how," Seamus said snidely.

It was Harry's turn to glare. "Don't tell me what I do or don't know."

Seamus bristled. "Whatever. Just don't do it again. Even Longbottom knows not to just eat things in class like that." He ignored Neville Longbottom's look and flush. "Don't you know how to act?"

"No, I don't. I literally found out about magic a week ago. Not all of us are lucky to grow up with family, or ones that know about magic," Harry retorted.

"Then why does Dean and Granger know how?" Seamus spat back. "They're Muggleborn and they know what to do."

Hermione Granger down the hall narrowed her eyes at the scene while Dean looked a little uncomfortable but said nothing.

"It's no use," Ronald Weasley said, giving Harry an unkind look. "I sat with him on the train and he's rude. Commented on how different our candy is and had a go at my mum."

"I didn't!" Harry threw up his hands. "I asked if you knew how your mum made the sandwiches! They tasted different to me than corn beef I've had before and I was curious. They tasted good! And I've never had magical candy before, of course I thought they would be different."

"You're so food obsessed," Seamus said with disgust. "You act like a starving dog, would do anything for a scrap." He and the other boys stared at Harry's face. A flicker of anger had flashed before the boy's face became utterly still and cold. "Wh-where're you going?"

Harry continued to walk away. "Somewhere else. I know how to act when people don't want me around."

Parvati Patil tugged on Lavender Brown's arm. "Come on, let's go," Parvati said softly.

Lavender continued to look down the hall, watching Harry turn the corner and at the other boys arguing among themselves. "Okay," she replied softly.

-0-

Albus Dumbledore finished writing his latest thought. The Headmaster of Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry was the picture of what one might imagine when they think of the word wizard. He was aged, his hair completely grey but still full of life. His beard was long and straight, perfect for looking thoughtful and wise when pulled. Blue eyes peered intelligently from behind plain rectangle glasses.

He looked up at the professors of the core classes that the school offered: Transfiguration, Herbology, Charms, Potions, and Defense Against the Dark Arts. "Well then, if there is anything else someone would like to bring up?" At the headshakes, he nodded companionably. "Excellent. Meeting adjourned then." After a few moments, he realized how one of the professors had hung back slightly. "Yes, Severus?"

Snape hesitated. "I had a strange…incident of sorts to bring to your attention, actually."

"By all means," Dumbledore said.

"I caught Potter eating potion ingredients."

Minerva McGonagall, Head of Gryffindor and Transfiguration professor frowned. "He was eating the ingredients?"

"Tasting, or eating," Snape said.

"Whatever for?" she asked.

"He claimed that he wanted to see if they tasted any different than their Muggle analogues."

"Hmm, well that is a reasonable question I suppose," Dumbledore said. "And a fairly reasonable way to find out. Do we know why he was curious about it?"

"He claims he likes to cook," Snape said.

"He is only eleven, what does he know about cooking?" McGonagall huffed.

"That was my reasoning as well," Snape said. "He also said he purchased additional books in preparation and was…looking forward to my class."

"And that upsets you it seems," Dumbledore chuckled, chuckling harder at Snape's sour look. "Hagrid did mention that Mister Potter did buy more books when he took him to Diagon for his school shopping. Hagrid made sure they were not inappropriate books as far as spellwork went, but did not make a note of what exactly he bought."

"I did pay more attention to him after the incident and his ability to use a knife is different compared to his peers. Better, if I am forced to admit it," Snape said quietly. "Completely unexpected."

"Of course you would be upset if a student from a different House is performing well," McGonagall said with the barest trace of snideness in her tone.

"You were the one that recommended I pay more attention to those outside my House for more altruistic reasons," Snape retorted. "I would be amenable to go back to ignoring them."

Dumbledore cleared his throat lightly, interrupting the burgeoning argument. "I assume you told him not to do that in the future?" he asked. At Snape's nod, he continued, "Then the lesson was taught and we will hope Mister Potter learns. As far as the other professors are concerned, he seems to be doing well for the first week of school. What do you two say?"

"He is fine," McGonagall said.

Snape nodded blandly.

"Good. We will try to keep an eye on him during mealtimes to see if any other concerning behavior is shown." After McGonagall and Snape left his office, the headmaster leaned back in his chair and looked thoughtfully out the window.

-0-

Hmm, what fortuitous timing, Dumbledore thought later.

He had been taking a walk around the castle, enjoying the after-dinner feeling. The school felt different at different times of the day. The morning had an energy that was brisk and almost frenetic during the school week, a more relaxed and lethargic energy on the weekends or holidays. Noontime was bustling with everyone going to the Great Hall for lunch. Afternoons were quieter due to classes and the time during dinner was busy once more with people enjoying their evening meal or going to the library or clubs. As curfew approached, the atmosphere was lower and quiet, heralding the dark and sleep.

Dumbledore had heard footsteps descending the staircase leading up to the Owlery and had paused. Most people did not go to the Owlery this late in the day unless they needed to send a last-minute post or package. When he saw who came walking out of the stairwell and into the hall, he turned and smiled genially. "Good evening, Mister Potter."

Harry almost jumped. He had been lost in thought while walking and had not realized Dumbledore was there. "Oh! Hello Headmaster Dumbledore, Sir," he said nervously.

"Do relax," Dumbledore chuckled. "You are not in trouble."

"Yes Sir," Harry said, relaxing a fraction.

"Last minute post?"

"No Sir. I was visiting Hedwig. Hagrid gave her to me when we were at Diagon and I like to visit her."

"Ah yes, Hagrid mentioned that. He said she was a beautiful snowy owl and quite taken with you."

Harry smiled bashfully. "She's the best."

Dumbledore nodded, looking at Harry thoughtfully. "And how have you found your first week here at Hogwarts, if I may ask?"

"I like it, Sir," Harry said with a little hesitation. "Magic is cool and really interesting."

The headmaster had noticed the hesitation. "Magic is indeed very cool," he said, smiling at Harry's look. "I am much older than you and I still delight in all the possibilities magic provides. Why just the other day I learned a new spell that warms your socks before you put them on. Makes all the difference in the morning and I imagine it will be even more invaluable when winter comes."

He enjoyed Harry's laugh. When the boy had first descended the staircase, he had been very reserved and nervous, understandably of course. However, with just a little relaxing, the boy seemed to change entirely. "Is there something I can do for you, Mister Potter?"

Harry shook his head.

"Anything at all?" Dumbledore pressed. "If it is not too unreasonable, it will be considered."

After thinking for a few moments, Harry took a deep breath. "Could…could I visit the kitchens? I would like to see them and see who makes all the food. It's wonderful but it tastes so different and I'd like to know more. I also would like to make something if I could."

Dumbledore hummed softly. "I heard that you like to cook," he said at last.

Harry nodded, wondering where Dumbledore had heard that. Then he remembered the Potions class from earlier, flushing at the memory of what happened after.

Dumbledore looked thoughtful. "Very well. Follow me. Let us see what we can do. Typically students are not allowed in the kitchens, but it has been known to happen." He walked off briskly and Harry rushed to catch up. Dumbledore led him down a few staircases that had stopped moving when the headmaster approached them. "A benefit of being Headmaster," he said to Harry. "The staircases usually lead me to where I want to go."

They finally reached a broad hallway in the depths of the castle. Lanterns shone along the walls, bathing the stone with warm golden light. A very large painting of a bowl of fruit hung on the wall at the end of the hall and Dumbledore reached up and tickled the pear. The painting moved, much like the painting that housed the entrance into Gryffindor Tower.

Harry gasped with delight as he followed the headmaster into the kitchens. The space was enormous. The stones of the floor and the wall and the ceiling were so clean, they gleamed in the lantern light. Four long tables sat in the center of the big room, mirroring the position of the House tables in the Great Hall above. Stoves were lined up against the one wall, running the length of the room. Preparation tables dotted the space and gigantic ovens were sunk into the adjacent wall. Racks and racks of cooking utensils and implements ran the length of the opposite wall and a vast sink system was in the corner. Water moved and brushes and rags danced as things were cleaned and dried and stored away.

"Welcome to the Kitchens of Hogwarts," Dumbledore said, seeing Harry's look of awe and wonder. "And meet the many cooks that provide all of our meals. They are House Elves, magical beings that serve the castle and help take care of us all. They clean and cook and do all sorts of things."

Scores of diminutive figures worked industriously in the kitchens. They were dressed in clean towels folded into togas. When Dumbledore and Harry first appeared, they had greeted them but at Dumbledore's wave, had gone back to work. Large round eyes watched them curiously however, and their large ears flapped and moved with them.

"Inky, are you free?" Dumbledore asked.

"Yes Headmaster!" A small House Elf appeared before them. She smoothed dark brown hair back and bobbed her head at Dumbledore and Harry. "How can Inky help?"

"Inky, this is Harry Potter. Mister Potter, this is Inky. She is one of the main Elves here in the kitchen and she always makes sure to give me extra jam and cream for tea time," Dumbledore smiled.

"Headmaster has a terrible sweet tooth," Inky said with a mock-weary smile.

"Quite," Dumbledore chuckled. "Mister Potter used to cook at home and would like to make something."

"Really?" Inky looked at Harry curiously. "Cooking at your age?"

Harry nodded. "I learned when I was little and cooked a lot."

"You are still little," Inky said flatly and shook her head which Harry found odd considering he was taller and bigger than her. "But Inky will help. What does Mister Potter want?"

"I'd like a stove please," Harry said after some thought. "I'd love to make an omelet. I haven't cooked in so long and it's one of my favorite things. Eggs, butter, salt, white pepper if you have it."

"That is easy." Inky led them to a small alcove and she soon had a table waiting with ingredients on it and a stove at the ready. She climbed up a stool and sat on it. "Inky has never seen a wizardling cook before."

"I hope you do not mind an audience," Dumbledore said, sitting on a stool as well.

Harry shook his head. "Not at all. Thank you, Sir, and Inky." He took a deep breath and let it out smoothly before starting. In no time at all he had things arranged on the tabletop to his liking. The hob was turned on and a pan was warming over the open flame. He cracked three eggs into a mixing bowl and started beating them.

Dumbledore leaned forward, interested. Harry had transformed right in front of him. Gone was the shy boy, the clear reservation. This Harry moved with purpose, his motions crisp and thoughtful. He beat the eggs until it was completely homogenous, not a trace of white could be seen. A sprinkle of salt and white pepper went into the beaten egg and he swirled the mixture around for a few more moments. A knob of butter was placed into the heated pan and he waited for the butter to melt. As soon as the butter was melted and the bit of foam was gone, he poured the golden mixture into the pan.

He turned the heat to low and gently swirled the pan around, coating the entire pan with the egg mixture. Then he gently started to stir the eggs around, never ceasing and using smooth motions. He hummed softly, eyes focused on the pan, not noticing how Dumbledore and Inky watched with equal fascination. As soon as the eggs set in the pan, he started to roll them. He rolled the edge of the omelet over and lifted the pan and held it at an angle, using gravity as well as the fork to roll the egg into a long cylindrical shape. Finally, he lifted the omelet out and put it on a plate.

Dumbledore blinked. It smelled incredible; a savory scent underscored with butter. The omelet was uniform in shape and color, not a hint of brown in the golden hue. He blinked once more when Harry pushed the plate over to him. "For me?" he asked, surprised.

"Yes Sir. For letting me cook, since students aren't normally allowed in the kitchens." He began to beat another three eggs in the bowl, returning the pan to the heat.

"Well, if you insist. Thank you very much, Mister Potter." Dumbledore picked up a fork and cut the end of the omelet, marveling at the soft even texture. The egg held its shape well but the fork went through it easily, barely any resistance met. When he ate that bite of omelet however, he paused. The insides of the omelet were soft and smooth, almost creamy like custard. He could taste a pure egg flavor, accented with butter, flavored with salt and pepper. It fell apart easily as he chewed and his eyes opened wide when he swallowed.

"This is incredible," he praised, surprise and wonder in his voice. "What a wonderful French omelet!"

Harry's eyes opened with surprise. "Thank you, Sir," Harry beamed. "I'm pretty good at making them, I've practiced a lot."

"Pretty good? Amazing I would say," Dumbledore said as he ate more. "I have been to France and have more than a few made by chefs and this ranks up there."

Harry ducked his head, a shy but proud smile on his lips as he made another.

Inky had stared at Dumbledore with undisguised envy as he ate, but the expression melted clean away when the next omelet was placed before her. "This is for Inky?" she gasped, her eyes popping wide as she goggled at Harry.

"If you like," he said. "I'm sorry, I've never met House Elves before today. Do you eat?"

"We do! Thank you!" Inky did not hold back and she ate a very large bite. "Mmm! Very good!"

Dumbledore noticed that Harry stood there with a small and satisfied smile. "Surely you will make yourself one," he remarked.

"Oh! Uh, yes Sir," Harry said, startled. "May I make something else too? It'll take longer and I don't know how much longer I can stay. I think it's close to curfew."

"You are punished if you are out after curfew if you have no reason or are unaccompanied. Fortunately, you have reason and are with me," Dumbledore said kindly. "What else would you like to make?"

"Biscuits."

"Then go right ahead," Dumbledore said. "On two conditions. You are to make an omelet for yourself and enjoy it and that I receive some of the biscuits as well." Harry's smile made him smile and he watched as Inky eagerly gathered the necessary biscuit ingredients. He slowly finished his omelet, chewing thoughtfully. "You are quite comfortable in the kitchen."

"Yes Sir. It was one of my first chores and after I got good at it, it became my main one." Harry beat the butter and sugar together industriously.

"Do you enjoy cooking?" Dumbledore asked mildly.

Harry nodded. "I love it now," he said as he rubbed the creamed butter and sugar between thumb and pointer finger. "At first I didn't, but I came to really like it," he added off-handedly. Then he realized what he said and looked away.

Dumbledore filed the information away to be ruminated over later. "So you cook a lot when you are back at home?"

"Yes Sir. Like I said, it became my main chore and my…aunt and uncle like to entertain so I cooked for their parties and dinners."

Dumbledore waited for Harry to finish mixing eggs and flour and vanilla into the creamed butter and sugar. Once mixed, Harry added the chocolate chips and rolled out individual biscuits and laid them out onto the baking sheets. After putting them into the oven, Harry went back to the stove and made himself an omelet.

"What do you like to cook?" Dumbledore asked.

"Mostly British food aside from the omelet and a few other things," Harry said. "The Dursleys aren't too fond of foreign cookery but I'd love to try other things one day."

"I'm sure you will and have faith that you will do them justice," Dumbledore said sincerely. He did not say more, waiting for Harry to finish cooking and eating his own meal, noticing that Harry stood slightly apart when he did, not sitting with him or Inky. He frowned at that, once again filing the detail away.

His frown disappeared entirely when Harry pulled the baking sheets out of the oven. The biscuits smelled wonderfully, rich in sugar and chocolate and vanilla. They evoked a sense of warmth, a comfort that started deep inside. When Dumbledore bit into one, he reflexively caught the crumbs that fell, smiling with delight. "Delicious," he said. "Simply wonderful."

"Agreed!" Inky fairly gobbled her biscuit and another followed soon after. "Mister Potter is very good cook!"

"Thank you," Harry said with that small but proud smile. "You can share these with any of the other House Elves that want one," he said, pushing a tray over. The boy's smile grew at Inky's delight and at the other House Elves that drifted over.

Another detail to be remembered, but at least a more pleasant one. Dumbledore accepted a small handful of biscuits for himself. "I wish I could take more but Madame Pomfrey may fuss at me," he said with a mischievous smile. He grew solemn. "Perhaps we can arrange for you to cook more at another time."

Harry nodded emphatically. "Yes Sir. And thank you again for letting me do this. I've missed it a lot."

"You are welcome." He wrapped up the remaining biscuits and tapped the packaging with his wand. "Another handy spell to keep things fresher for longer," he said.

"I love magic," Harry grinned.

"As do I," Dumbledore said with a matching grin. "Now, let us get you back to your tower or else Professor McGonagall will fuss at me as well."

"Thank you, Mister Potter!" Inky said through a full mouth and a few of the other House Elves joined her with their thanks. "Hope to see you soon!"

"You're welcome! You can call me Harry though, it's odd when you call me Mister Potter." Harry waved happily and despite the many stairs back up to the tower, the trip felt short. After bidding Dumbledore good night, Harry went to his dorm room and not even the look from Seamus could ruin his good mood. He put the wrapped biscuits away in his trunk and got ready for bed, feeling the best he had ever since arriving at Hogwarts.

-0-

"Inky, a moment please."

A small crack heralded Inky's appearance. "Yes Headmaster?"

Dumbledore sat at his desk and looked at the House Elf. "Mister Potter's cooking was quite delicious."

"Yes Headmaster." Her ears flapped as she nodded emphatically. "Very good!"

"I would not expect someone so young to be so accomplished," he mused softly.

"Inky has never met a wizardling or witchling that could cook like that," she said. She looked pensive. "Not many older magicals can cook like that either."

"That is what I thought as well," Dumbledore said. "A French omelet is rarer here, but we have had omelets plenty of times. Biscuits as well. But there is something different with his, however."

"Inky agrees." She shrugged. "Not many magicals are so willing to cook for House Elves either," she said pointedly.

"No, they are not," Dumbledore agreed. "He seems used to cooking for others."

"Inky heard." She frowned. "Inky does not like what that means."

"I find myself curious about that as well," Dumbledore admitted. "I hope to learn more in time. Thank you, Inky."

She curtsied slightly. "Mister Harry is very kind," she said and popped away.

"Yes, yes he is," Dumbledore said softly to himself. He looked at the stand beside his desk, at his phoenix Fawkes noisily enjoying a biscuit. His companion had looked at the small stack of biscuits with undisguised want and had gleefully taken one when offered. The magical animal chomped on the treat with obvious pleasure.

"Talented, and very kind," Dumbledore repeated. He bit into another biscuit and looked out over the moonlit waters of the Black Lake. He chewed slowly, savoring the baked treat. He managed to save the rest and continued to look out over the grounds, lost in thought.