A sharp Hogwarts

"What's the magic knowledge in the magic world over there?"

Cornelius Fudge turned his head and said with a slight frown.

"Dumbledore, you know our rules - when you study these things, you must report them."

"I understand, Cornelius," Dumbledore said in a clear and fast tone. "It's just a coincidence that you are here. I will make up for the written research application later. As you know, in our country At this stage, we must study some different magics, and there is no way to move forward with just those ordinary dishes."

"Well, I know." Connelly glanced at Dalia next to him and looked at Dumbledore, "I mean this student, if-"

"That's something from another magical world. You don't think first-year students know how to use them, do you?"

Dumbledore asked in confusion, his blue eyes flashing with a strange look, seeming helpless.

"I hope you understand that our time is very tight right now-"

"Nervous?" Scrimgeour couldn't help but ask.

"The future is not static. The 'future' seen by the prophet has been changing from the moment it was made public."

Dumbledore said seriously. The old man did not raise his voice deliberately, but everyone subconsciously became quiet - he just has that kind of trustworthy power.

"Do you remember the last time we arrested Peter Pettigrew? We must act as soon as possible. After all, the target is not a tree that cannot move or run away and hide. If Mr. Crouch or the Gringotts goblins are alerted, we may immediately take the initiative. One party becomes passive. As for, well, Miss Dursley..."

As he spoke, he raised his palms and pointed toward the spherical doorknob at the other end of the room.

click.

The spherical door handle made a crisp sound.

Greengrass subconsciously tugged, and the door handle seemed to be welded to the door.

The office door is locked.

"We are fighting destiny now, everyone."

Dumbledore said in a deep voice, exuding some kind of power that was hard to look at directly.

"Miss Dursley will stay here for the time being. No one can come in and she can't send any messages."

"During this period, only we know all the prophecies. And again, this is the best way for us to rewrite everything."

"But……"

Mr. Greengrass said unnaturally, "Can the future really be changed?"

He didn't care about the mysterious person, all his attention was now on the prophecy about his little daughter.

Although he was extremely angry, a certain voice kept whispering in his heart... What if, what if, that little witch was really a prophet?

After all, judging from various current signs, the probability of Dalia Dursley's "divination" coming true is not low.

"Of course - how else would we have captured Peter Pettigrew."

Amelia Bones whispered, walking to the fireplace in her office.

The next moment, green magic flames suddenly rose.

"Let's go. Let's go to the Ministry of Magic first and find a few more Aurors in the Auror office."

"Rufus, go and stabilize Crouch. The rest of us will go directly to Crouch's mansion to confirm the first clue."

"I don't have a problem with that - if Barty Jr. is really there..."

said Cornelius Fudge, playing with his bowler hat thoughtfully.

"Then let's stop by Gringotts today. That's Gringotts' wizarding bank. The Ministry of Magic's words may be of some use."

Just like Mr. Greengrass, who is worried about his little daughter, since he learned that he may be implicated by Barty Crouch Jr. in the "future" and suffer some unspeakable torture - although Dalia did not say it, Kang Nellie Fudge didn't think he would be luckier than Scrimgeour and Bones - the unknown was scarier.

After all, it sounds from the prophecies just now that Scrimgeour, who subsequently succeeded him as Minister of Magic, died.

As for the prohibitions on Eastern cooking, those are not important at all...

Dumbledore was right, first-year witches were too far away from those "magical studies".

Perhaps the prophet can see some distant future, but magical strength and magical knowledge cannot be improved through "divination".

Besides—

If he remembered correctly, Daria Dursley's magical abilities were rather modest.

"Well, let's get going—" Cornelius Fudge quickly made up his mind and stood up, walking quickly toward the fireplace.

Others in the office also stood up and disappeared into the flames one by one.

As headmaster, Dumbledore came last.

Just before stepping into the flames, he looked back at Dalia and winked slyly.

"I wrote to ask, it is difficult for a wise woman to make a meal without rice - this sentence really exists... I hope it can help."

"Eh?"

Dalia was stunned.

Before she could react, Dumbledore's figure disappeared into the fire.

…………

There was silence in the room, and the characters in the portraits were all asleep.

Now there was only the occasional grunt or grunt from one of the sleeping portraits.

Dalia waited in silence for several minutes, the empty hearth showing no sign of the flames reigniting.

"Okay...it's hard for a clever woman to make a meal without rice——"

Dalia breathed a sigh of relief and walked to the corner Dumbledore mentioned.

Unlike other cooking tables in the room, there was a thick black pot quietly placed there.

On the edge of the pot, white rice with the outer skin removed, various spices, as well as more than a dozen vegetables and eggs are placed in boxes.

Hagrid obviously misunderstood what she meant - and when Hagrid, the loudmouth, went to find Professor Sprout, Dumbledore naturally knew this.

"Rice——"

Dalia looked deeply at the rice in front of her, her eyes a little dazed.

I don’t know why, maybe it’s because of the backwardness of the magical world, or the special circumstances of the region and time.

All in all, although British magical civilization is based on cooking, there are no traces of mainstream Chinese food in the food dishes.

Judging from observations during this period, most of the dishes and ingredient selections at Hogwarts are not much different from European dishes in another world.

but……

Dalia doesn't think rice or a wok can solve the problems she's facing today.

In the past two months, she has secretly tried many classic Chinese dishes using cauldrons and pans.

But just like the spicy and sour potato shreds her professor tried in the last Charms class, those Chinese meals didn't have any magical accompaniment other than satisfying the craving.

The mismatch between soul and body – that’s the real problem.

Dalia sighed and did not continue to dwell on this issue.

Anyway, as time goes by, sooner or later she will be able to reach a good match again.

The only thing that makes Dalia a little sad is that according to this logic, to improve her magical power, she must make herself "fall in love" with mainstream European cuisine.

Her fingers stirred in the small box of rice, and her eyes wandered around the cooking table, eggs, olive oil, various pots...

"Speaking of which, it seems like... I haven't eaten rice for a long time—"

"Just deal with it simply, make some fried rice with eggs, and you won't have to explain too much when Dumbledore comes back."

Dalia would not think that Dumbledore had other ideas. These dishes, kitchen utensils, and even ingredients were a test.

Ever since she saw boiled cabbage on the Hogwarts table and learned some of the past history, Dahlia has become more discerning.

The "road to promotion" of Dumbledore and even other top wizards may involve deciphering and improving Chinese food. Therefore, before understanding the logic of the real "magic Chinese food", Dalia must restrain her desire for expression. Egg fried rice is easy to explain, but making a Buddha jump over the wall is hard to explain.

…………

Without a hassle-free rice cooker, she had to wait for an hour or two for the rice to be cooked.

During this period, Dalia inspected other ingredients and cooking stations in Dumbledore's office.

However, Dumbledore had obviously cleaned up his office in advance, and most of the books and ingredients were accessible to Hogwarts students on a daily basis.

After a quarter of an hour of rummaging through boxes and cabinets, Dalia stopped rummaging and began to seriously think about the type of egg fried rice she would be waiting for.

It was a rare opportunity to cook egg fried rice, so she naturally wanted to make a slightly better and more upscale egg fried rice.

Fried rice can be said to be the dish with the lowest threshold.

As long as you know how to light the stove, stir the rice and ingredients together and fry them, you can barely pull out a dish called XX fried rice.

Of course, judging whether most ingredients are raw or cooked is a very painful and difficult task for novice cooks.

Considering the difficulty of obtaining and processing the ingredients, the simplest and most friendly egg fried rice has naturally become the cornerstone of fried rice.

On the other hand, egg fried rice is a dish with almost demanding standards that tests basic skills.

But most people who have entered the circle of chefs dare not easily claim that they are good at egg fried rice - because only when the aroma of rice and eggs are perfectly matched, each grain of rice is completely separated, and the salt is evenly distributed, whether it is a tablespoon or a Only if each egg has the same delicious taste can it be regarded as an egg fried rice that meets the ideal standard.

To be precise, egg fried rice is divided into two categories.

The more literary terms are "silver wrapped in gold" and "gold wrapped in silver", which is essentially the controversial question - scrambled eggs or fried rice first?

The answer is, both are fine.

The highest state of "gold in silver" can be described nothing more than Zhang Dongguan's sentence in "The Man-Han Banquet":

"Each egg drop is surrounded by three or four grains of rice."

According to popular rumors, every grain of rice is wrapped in egg liquid, like the golden fried rice in "The Little Master of China", which is "gold wrapped in silver".

If you choose the wrong method, you won't be able to wrap every grain of rice with egg drop even if you practice it for a lifetime.

Daliazan did not choose to crack open the egg normally on the center line. Instead, she carefully knocked a crack on the top of the egg wall, then used her fingers to tear open the upper half of the eggshell along the crack, and used a small eggshell to block the yolk. , pour the egg liquid into the prepared small bowl little by little.