Hello folks and welcome back. I'll admit, I don't eat a particularly large amount of curries. I know that as a British person, I should be loving things like Chicken Tikka Masala, but... I don't know, it just never appealed as much. That meant I was in a bit of an awkward position when it came to working on this. Luckily, the recipe I've come up with should be enough to impress. Anyway, let's go!

Super hero time!

Harry: Add a little spice to your life with a brand new power!

Izuku: Every utensil is a weapon to win the war!

Harry: I guess I have to if this is a tournament, huh?

Izuku: We're going to need everything we can get our hands on!

H + I: With a magic touch! Plus Ultra!

What did those eyes see as they gazed upon the majesty of Totsuki Academy? Harry wasn't entirely sure. At first, he had seen a bastion of peace: a place where Harry could indulge himself by honing an art he enjoyed without constantly looking over his shoulder. Perhaps he'd seen a chance to make friends he wouldn't need to abandon, forge relationships stronger than merely a conversation or two before he left. Even with Dumbledore's rather bitter visit, such images had only grown more cemented in Harry's mind with time.

How easily, those images crumbled.

"You don't get called a Dark Lord if you don't have influence," Harry muttered beneath his breath, the words soon drowned in freshly squeezed orange juice. With classes soon to start, he really shouldn't have been wandering about so aimlessly, yet Harry knew not where his feet were taking him. So long as it gave him the peace to ponder, he could worry about getting to classes when the time came. "What the hell am I meant to do now? Stick around and put this place in danger? All for a flimsy goal I chose on a whim?"

Did he even have a goal in the first place? He liked cooking, so he went to a cooking academy; Harry could barely say he had half the ambition his fellow students bore. Even if Harry had remarked to Momo about the potential Totsuki students had to change the world, it wasn't as if the boy truly envisioned himself doing so. The cost of fame was simply too high to risk. Whenever the thought of potentially owning his own business came to mind, the images of charred flesh and burning property refused to fade away. The moment that the dark forces discovered that Harry had settled down, they'd waste no time in razing it to the ground in hopes of killing him, and that was just with a small business. If Harry properly made a name for himself in the muggle world? Escape would be impossible.

But when every path led to a gruesome end, which could you choose? Though Harry's travels had been more than entertaining and education, a man could only walk so long without a destination. Even ronin had ambitions as they journeyed. Besides, there had to be a day where Harry could move without fear of the Dark Lord's presence. When that time came, what excuse would he have for not having a goal to chase after? So long as his eyes remained tainted by hidden evils, Harry couldn't see what Totsuki was meant to be for him.

"Harry?"

"Ah, Hisako. I would've thought you'd be hanging around with Erina." Harry might not have turned to greet the pink-haired girl as she approached, but his tone was warm enough for her. It meant when Harry held out the bottle, she only hesitated slightly before accepting it with a bow. "Is she busy or something?"

"I-indeed. The Elite Ten Council have been deliberating for a long time n-now. While I'm Miss Erina's secretary, I'm still not privy to those, um, conversations." Harry tried his best to hold it in, he did. In the face of Hisako's obvious uncomfortable reaction though, the weary sigh passed his lips before he could stop it. "…Fine, I'll skip to the point. I saw the news of you and Momo in Australia during the vacation. What happened?"

"What can I say that the news probably didn't already say? Some terrorists decided to attack the market for some reason. Guess they thought that with the competition happening there, they'd make more of a statement." Harry replied with a shrug. "We were lucky to get out of there unscathed."

"I meant what actually happened. I saw the destruction that happened there, it can't have been just a single bomb!"

It wasn't often that Hisako allowed so much emotion into her speech. To be at the side of a Nakiri required extensive control over their expressions lest they bring dishonour to their bosses. Such was why the only times she expressed anything other than cold professionalism was when Erina did the same. Even her recognition of Harry had only resulted in the smallest of fumbles before her composure returned. That meant when Hisako reached for Harry's collar with impressive speed, the boy could do little to fight back.

"Our family isn't exactly well connected, but we know a few people from England. We've been able to hear bits and pieces of what's been happening there." Hisako stated, her eyes narrowing for a second before concern softened them. "Rumours of… His return, of His army becoming more active than ever before. It was them, wasn't it?"

"…First, why don't you have a drink? Something tells me you'll need it." Harry eventually answered, gesturing as well as he could to the bottle Hisako had dropped in her brashness. With her blunder revealed, it didn't take long before she released Harry with a cough. Scrambling to take the bottle, no time was wasted as she took a sip, only for her eyes to widen as she glanced at the liquid within. "Like it? I tried to make sure the flavours would balance out, but it's kind of difficult when you're working with such sugar-heavy ingredients."

"This feeling, I recognise it." Hisako failed to give a proper answer, her mind too busy analysing the foreign sensation that attempted to mess with it. Absently taking sip after sip, realisation soon settled in as she gave a small sound of recognition. "Calming draught? No, draught of peace? It can't be, something's off. I can't find the lavender scent a calming draught should have and it's the wrong colour for a draught of peace…"

"You're thinking too standard." Harry corrected with a small chuckle. "It's a Sri Lankan potion, the name's Sansun Manasaka Diyara or something like that. I managed to find a couple of books I'd stashed away thanks to my friend during the holiday. Not as strong as the other two, but it doesn't react weirdly when you put it into another liquid like orange juice. You can smell the fluxweed, right?"

"Sort of, but it's being masked by something else."

"That would probably be the horklump juice. You can't taste it, thank god, but the slight smell remains. Thankfully, the potion is relatively tasteless in general when you mix it right; I don't know how I could've stomached it had the butterscotch and honey overpowered everything."

"I see. We've grown fluxweed for use in Polyjuice and certain healing potions, but I've never heard of utilisation like this." It would take another minute before Hisako noticed the weak smirk playing on Harry's lips, her curious face soon changing to anger. Well, as much as it could, at any rate. Though it may not have been as strong as a calming draught or the draught of peace, Harry's potion served its purpose of calming the mind well. "Hey, don't change the subject. You got attacked, it's serious. For all the security Totsuki has, it's still a muggle academy. There's only so much they can do to stop someone trying to get after you."

"I know. Why do you think I was downing that juice?" Harry replied. "Were the 'terrorists' in Australia Death Eaters? Yeah, they were. Does that mean they're in Japan and know I'm here? Don't have a clue. The safest thing to do would be to leave, but I've had to do that way too many times at this point. I'm not exactly enthusiastic about doing it again. The plan right now, if you can call it that, is sticking around until the first sign of danger. I have a couple of locations I can use as a hiding place until things cool down, but I'd rather not use them so quickly."

"Well… I don't think I can help make this place any safer." And how painful it was to admit as much. For all the prestige the Arato family might've held in japan, they were just a herb and potion ingredient supplier. It wasn't as if they were swimming in money to spend on protection and they wouldn't dare call themselves powerful magically by any stretch. "But even so, I… watching you leave would be a rather disappointing occasion. Regardless of your fame, you are a talented chef. To be unable to hone that skill because of this would be a shame."

"Hey, what's with the change in attitude? Just say that you'd miss the chance to talk to the Boy-Who-Lived." Harry's remark was punctuated by a light punch to Hisako's shoulder, far lighter than the one she gave to his stomach in return. He may not have liked the title that was bestowed upon him, but he wasn't going to pass up an opportunity to tease. Even so, the pink-haired girl didn't refute his claim. "Sorry, sorry. But seriously, I'm not planning on going anywhere just yet. Anything beyond that… eh, we'll figure them out when we have to."

"G-good. After all, the Autumn Elections are about to begin. I might not be allowed to see exactly who's allowed to participate, but there's no way you aren't being included after your stint with an alumnus." Hisako was quick to reply, turning about-face with only a glance back. "It is a formality at this point, but you should go check the board detailing participants. The chance to scout out your opponents might assist you in your cooking."

"Fine, fine. Let's go then." Harry sighed, rolling his shoulder as his prior smirk found itself returning. "Staying down in the dumps isn't going to do me any good. Might as well see what this Autumn Election thing is."

"Hang on, you don't know about the Autumn Election?"

"Am I meant to? All I got told was that I'd have to come back halfway through the holiday to check our results."

Needless to say, the lecture that followed was as long as time would allow.

A fearsome battlefield upon which only one may be crowned the greatest chef of their year – that is the Autumn Election. Under the watchful eyes of some of the greatest names in the food industry, sixty students who stand above their peers take to the kitchen in search of glory. Present a single mistake and your reputation as a chef could be destroyed. Succeed, and prosperity is sure to follow. Those whose skill transcends all others may even have a chance at attaining one of the coveted seats of the Elite Ten. To even be considered for the Autumn Election was a special honour; to win was to carve your name into history.

Was it any wonder, then, that the crowds were so rowdy as they gathered around the boards detailing the lucky few?

"Oi, Harry! Over here!" lost within the copious numbers of cheering and despairing students, it took all of Harry's might to force himself towards the voice. Fortunately, being stood at the edge meant that once the black-haired boy finally pushed through the crowd, Souma and Shun were easy to find. "It's been radio silence with you all summer! I tried asking around to see if anyone had your number, but nobody does."

"Oh, um… I… I don't have a mobile phone." Came the sheepish reply, Souma left in silence for a moment before he scratched his head in embarrassment. "I've never really been good with technology; didn't have the chance to get accustomed to it. In some of the places I've travelled to, a mobile phone wouldn't work anyway."

Mostly because a phone wouldn't have lasted a second thanks to the dense magical energy permeating the air of the various communities Harry had been hiding in. Then again, it wasn't as if Harry had made enough friends to make the investment worthwhile. Hermione was more than content with sending letters and Ron… well, Harry hadn't talked to him in a while. When it was going to explode in his pocket the moment he approached anywhere magical and would sit unused elsewhere, what was the point to spending so much?

"Just call it a phone. You sound like an old man calling it by the full name." he redhead jokingly admonished in response, a light flick to Harry's head. "Everyone else has been chatting about what we've been doing over messages, so we'll have to have a get-together so you can get filled in. You said you went to Australia with one of our seniors for a competition? You have to tell me about all the food!"

"Souma…" Some might've claimed that Shun's face hadn't changed as he muttered. For those who had grown accustomed to his quirks, however, the sudden aura of disapproval was near palpable. Though it may have only manifested physically as a slight twitch of the mouth, that and Shun's voice alone was enough to send Souma reeling. "Could it be… you don't watch international news?"

"Well, I've never really been outside of Japan, so I only occasionally check in on the big stuff. Why, what's happened?" but the redhead would be left without a response, Shun only having the time to raise a questioning eyebrow towards Harry before a cry in the distance drew their attention.

"H-Harry!" Megumi's appearance belied her strength. Before Harry knew it, he was on the floor, his vision filled with a mess of blue as her hands carefully roamed his body. "You're not injured anywhere, a-are you? When I h-heard the news about the bomb, I was so worried! I t-tried contacting you, but nobody had an address or number for you!"

"Yeah, even Shun was easier to get talking than you!" fortunately, Yuki and Ryoko decided to approach at a more amicable pace, a pout and curious frown respectively. "The best thing you can do in those kinds of scenarios is to talk it out. Keeping it all bottled inside isn't any good!"

"Yuki's right. Hopefully, now that we're gathered together, you can speak about with us." Ryoko added, only for her frown to grow as Harry casually waved her off. As well as he could, at any rate. With how fervently Megumi checked his body for imaginary wounds, it was as if she thought he would dissolve the moment she released her grip.

"As I said with these two, it's not as if I was holding out. I just don't have a phone number to give. As for talking, I was lucky enough that it all went down in Australia. Not only did I have Momo to help me, but one of my friends from a previous school was also on holiday there." Harry reassured, released ever so hesitantly by Megumi as he flashed the most calming smile he could. Though it didn't seem to have much effect on the girl, her fidgeting at least settled somewhat. "Momo and I were the blessed few. We managed to get away without any injuries. Others… weren't so fortunate."

His flesh appeared like a burnt joint of beef; uninviting red flesh marred by a wall of scorched black. His skin bubbled and blistered like pork crackling, giving way with a sharp snap as it was shattered by a falling piece of wood. Eyes like those of a fish stared lifelessly to the sky, bulging and bright as if freshly killed. Together, it looked as if his body had been thrown through a flambé, left to brown under the glaring sun and served upon a jus formed of his blood.

"But that's all in the past. More importantly, what's happening with this Autumn Election thing? Hisako was giving me a talk about it, but I kind of found myself spacing out halfway through." Harry eventually said after a sharp slap to his cheeks. It might not have completely removed the awkward atmosphere, but that didn't stop Shun from following through.

"I saw all of our names. We'll all be competing."

"Ikumi Mito, Takumi and Isami Aldini, Alice Nakiri… there are quite a few familiar names as well." Ryoko commented in turn, clapping her hands together. "I suppose that's to be expected though. They've already managed to build up reputations; it would've been strange not to see them chosen."

"Who cares about that? We've got a record number of Polar Star Dorm residents participating, Fumio's going to go crazy!" Yuki excitedly interjected, her phone already in hand. "It's just like the Golden Age all over again!"

"Well, what do you expect when you've got people like this guy casually challenging alumni to shokugekis out of the blue?" Souma was quick to interject, Harry rolling his eyes as the redhead's arm swung over his shoulders.

"I don't want to hear that after that stunt you pulled with your omelettes." Harry retorted, his grin matching Souma's as he gazed towards the board between drooping shoulders and hi-fives. "Besides, we've all done something the academy thinks is above everyone else. That's how we all got chosen in the first place, right?"

"Really? But I-I didn't really do anything…" it seemed that the only one who failed to adapt so easily was Megumi, her form exchanging fearful concern for nervous tension. With a disposition like that, it was natural for her remark to be barely above a whisper. Fortunately, a hand upon Megumi's shoulder quickly drew her out of the rapidly developing self-depreciation. "Harry?"

"Don't forget, it's not about creating something crazy – it's about having potential as a chef. Least, that's what I'm pretty sure Hisako told me." Harry corrected, gazing across the crowd with a certain nod. "If there's one thing that your cooking has shown me, it's that you have plenty of potential. I don't think there's a single person here who would say otherwise. All you need is a little bit of confidence, cause you've damn well got the skills you need to flourish in this little tournament."

Surrounded by a sea of concurring faces, Megumi would've been a fool to try and argue further. Letting the smallest of smiles replaced her frown, the blue-haired girl gradually allowed the attitudes of her friends infect her.

To the sound of talks about a celebratory feast and guesses about what the challenges would be, Harry couldn't help the small sigh of relief that passed his lips. How could he possibly feel concerned when he was surrounded by such a comforting atmosphere? Yet even so…

"Damn, maybe I should've kept some of that orange juice. I'll have to make more…"

"What was that?"

"Just thinking aloud. If we're talking about ingredients, could you add some veal shank and polenta? I'll make a real mean Osso Bucco."

"I must admit, when you said that you were going to work on some more esoteric plants, I didn't quite expect to see such an interesting plot." Satoshi's comment caused Harry to jump in surprise, the shock nearly causing the trimmers he held to almost shave his plant in two. It was only by a miracle that Harry managed to regain control, the dittany he held living for at least another day. "This is meant to be threatened, isn't it? I don't think I've had the chance to see it before."

"Yep, cultivation is mostly focused in the South of Crete. I figured it would be useful to have around though; the essential oils seemed interesting to work with and the herbal tea is pretty nice as well." Harry replied once his heart returned to normal. "Plus, it's said to have some healing properties as well, so it's probably good to have around anyway. I've also got some angelica and aloe vera over to the side."

A quick order from a herbologist and they had come in no time at all. With the number of uses they had in potions, it was only natural for there to have been ample supply; how they would react if they knew the muggle world viewed dittany as threatened. The ease of its retrieval almost made harry flush with embarrassment. They must've thought he'd gone through incredible effort to attain such a carefully monitored herb.

Even so, there was no room for regret. Dittany was one of the few useful herbs he could afford to grow in the plot. Exposed as it was, trying to cultivate any of the more interesting specimens would result in a less than savoury situation. Even ingredients such as foxglove or aconite – both perfectly mundane plants – were off the table. After all, the plot was intended for cooking, so why on Earth would anyone waste time cultivating poisonous plants? Better to take what he could get and just pay up when something a bit more esoteric was required.

"Hey, everyone! The Autumn Elections Office sent us something!" the chirping birds were no match for Yuki's volume, heads popping up across the Polar Star Dormitory plots. Sure the return to the dorm life was appreciated, but relaxing was remarkably difficult with the Autumn Elections looming over their shoulders. Any possible hints about what they could prepare for were a godsend, which was probably why the majority swarmed the orange-haired girl in no time at all. Only Harry and Satoshi seemed to retain their composure, the younger of the pair taking one last swig from the bottle beside him before joining his classmates.

"No reason to wait, right?" Souma spoke, his grin unrivalled as he tore the offered envelope with reckless abandon. Under the watchful gaze of several, eager hands gradually began to pull out the paper held within, three words in elegant script brought out into the light. "Topic: curry… dish? What, that's it? That's all we get? Are they just asking us to make curry rice or something?"

"There's no way. They wouldn't have called it a curry 'dish' if that's what they wanted." Ryoko quickly dismissed, a finger held to her chin. "I suppose anything would be acceptable, so long as it incorporates curry in one way or another."

A contemplative atmosphere soon fell over the first years. While such a broad topic might appear advantageous at first, the possibilities made the process of decision making all the more difficult. With so many varieties and adaptations already in existence, creating a dish that could arouse the attention of the judges was no simple feat. Without a healthy level of innovation and imagination, those participating might as well just drop out from the very start.

Thank god that Polar Star didn't house anyone that lacked such skills.

"Hmm… I'm not too familiar with Japanese curry. Never had the time to check it out. I'll probably end up doing something closer to Indian style curry…" Harry mused, glancing back to his plot. Though the milder herbs served well in hiding them, the chilis growing there could be perfect for his plans. "Have to be careful though… they're probably too hot to do anything but destroy the flavour. There's a reason why they're put with other ingredients intended to remove the heat."

Unlike cooking where the seeds could usually be disposed of, the majority of the peppers' magical benefits came from the capsaicin contained within. Therefore, herbologists had spent years researching the perfect crossbreeds that produced insane amounts of the spicy chemical, to the point that the flesh itself could burn off a man's tongue. The blood, sweat and tears of countless researches had culminated in the monsters known as African red peppers hiding in Harry's plot. That meant any potions that required their use had to combat the horrific heat they came with. Eating them for pleasure? Regardless of the intensified flavour of the flesh, the heat meant it was unthinkable.

Unless you were someone who had experimented with potions. Especially if you were someone who had recently worked with the taste alteration potion. It took a second to flood back to Harry, but the moment he did, his laughter couldn't be restrained. His little experiment with Momo hadn't been aimed towards any specific purpose. Never had Harry expected such a ripe opportunity to utilise his work appear so rapidly.

So long as the taste alteration potion could be implemented in just the correct way, that dastardly heat could be diminished without compromising the enhanced flavour of the chilis' flesh. Harry would have to make sure that the other ingredients weren't too overpowered by their flavour, but that was why they had been given advance notice.

"Alright then! Let's get to work!"

It was a shame, how little caramel was used in savoury dishes. Fears of ruining meals by making food too sweet meant that very few home chefs made use of the intrinsic umami caramel could bring. With the right sugars, caramel could bring a nutty toasted element to a dish like brown butter, or a bitterness that supports more powerful flavours magnificently. If you made sure to temper it with appropriate salt and acid, then the potential caramel held was great. After all, people had used sweet fruits in savoury dishes for countless years – was it not the sugars within those fruits that made the dishes so delectable? Using caramel worked off the same principles.

it was that mindset which allowed Harry to approach the kitchen counter with the confidence he held, an array of ingredients laid out before him. He may not have been a master of spice like the instructor Souma and Megumi had chosen to visit, but that didn't mean his knowledge was minimal. The memories of those mothers and grandmothers in the Indian magical community wouldn't fade so easily - not with how surprisingly well they treated a foreign visitor asking about all he could.

"Huh. I must be getting better." Harry couldn't help but comment as he looked to his hands, hands that had just finely slice a medium-sized onion in no time at all. While he may not have been the slowest with a knife of his year, it would still take a few minutes to go through an onion with a certain level of precision. "Guess that's what happens when you go through a culinary academy course."

With the rest of the spices either going in whole or lightly crushed though, the chance to further test his skills evaded Harry. Instead, a pressure cooker was set to heat up while 200 grams of basmati rice began the lengthy soaking process. as soon as the rice was clean and drained (or as clean as Harry could be bothered with), it would have to rest and soak for 20 minutes; the perfect time to temper his spices, prepare the garnish and make his caramel. The garnish was simple enough - the onions merely needing to fry in the heated oil of the pressure cooker until crispy - but the caramel and spices required a little more precision.

A bay leaf and 4 cloves met 5 peppercorns and star anise, an inch of a cinnamon stick joining soon after. They could enter the oil first, no preparation required before the tempering. The cardamom, 1 black and 3 green, would have to be lightly crushed, however, lest they be impenetrable bullets without any flavour whatsoever. The goal wasn't to cook them per se; the moment that Harry smelt that beautiful aroma and the oil began to splatter, the spices were quickly removed. With the additional frying and steaming they would go through with the rice, it wouldn't do to have them at a stage where they'd soon burn.

As for the caramel, a separate pan was filled with a cup of sugar, gradually brought up to medium heat. Taking precaution to swill rather than stir, all Harry could do after that was wait. Though the method couldn't be any easier, the pressure came with making sure that the sugar didn't become acrid rather than rounded. Unlike a 'wet' caramel, where water was added, a 'dry' caramel like Harry's would change colour at a much higher rate. While that meant the chances of crystallisation were lower and the cooking time was faster, the risks meant lesser chefs could ruin their caramel with little effort.

"Alright then, the edges seem about right," Harry muttered, glancing at the golden colouration with a breath of relief. The edges turning that crucial colour meant that it was safe to finally take a wooden spoon to the caramel, carefully incorporating the rest of the sugar until the entire thing had a similar hue. After those 7 minutes, the caramel was ready to meet everything else. "Let's do this then!"

Draining the rice might have taken a little longer than normal, but Harry wasn't exactly willing to take the risk of careless preparation. If it meant ensuring that there wasn't a volatile reaction as oil mixed with water, the time taken could be dismissed. Once it was prepared though, all of the rice was dumped in with the tempered spices to be gently sautéed. Coated in the oil and spices, it didn't take before each grain was infused with several dimensions of flavour, the aroma unrivalled. That it already smelled so good brought a grin to Harry's face; the best had yet to come, after all.

If the rice had been beautiful before, then the rich colour that came as the caramel was added could stand against masterpieces. Like paint upon a canvas, what once was plain soon took on an elegant hue. That wasn't to say it was coloured like bark, however; by carefully limiting how much caramel was added, an understated visage was born rather than something gaudy. Indeed, with the potential to overwhelm that caramel had, that beauty was indicative of Harry's success. All that was left was to steam.

When Harry had been told to let the rice steam for two whistles, he wasn't exactly sure how to respond. It was only the fact that they were housing him that had Harry biting back his joke of being unable to whistle well. That silence and visible confusion were what led to the boy being thrown headfirst into the world of Indian pressure cooking. A world where pressure cooking was no novelty, but an everyday occurrence.

Indian pressure cookers weren't built like their western counterparts. Whereas more recent American and European pressure cookers tend to utilise a spring device in controlling the pressure, Indian versions still rely upon the older weight-based designs. As a result, unlike western pressure cookers that don't release steam until the pressure is released, Indian cookers had the wonderful tendency of venting excess pressure at regular intervals depending on the heat. As one would expect, a process like that wasn't exactly quiet. While they had come to be known as whistles, the horrific sound that was produced was nothing close. Imagine the shrill hiss of a demon and you just might get something roughly comparable.

The positive of a design like this? It meant that with enough familiarity with the quirks of your pressure cooker, timers almost become irrelevant. Though the pressure cooker manufacturers had been trying to wean the population off using the whistles as measurements, they remained a popular form of timekeeping. Therefore, the women teaching Harry saw no qualms with noting the time as two whistles and nothing else. It was perfectly reasonable measurement… unless one had a non-whistling pressure cooker.

Totsuki wouldn't dare be seen using what they'd consider outdated technology. Not unless it was some historical preservation society at least. That meant Harry was left in a bit of a conundrum. If there had been a direct translation between whistles and actual time, then that would be one thing. The problem was that the number didn't just change with heat, but sometimes even by the cooker. Unless one had the chance to familiarise yourself with your pressure cooker, you could never be too sure how often the whistles occurred.

"Guess we're going to go off instinct…" Harry sighed aloud as the necessary water and salt were added to the rice, glancing to the clock looming above as he secured the lid. Thanks to the importance of timing in cooking, Totsuki had invested in clocks that could be seen from anywhere in the test kitchen – lovely while cooking normally, not so friendly when Harry was taking a chance with the time. "Let's go with 3 minutes and hope for the best."

And what an arduous three minutes they turned out to be. Rice wasn't a particularly long cook in general – around 15 to 20 minutes for white rice – meaning that the margin for failure was tiny with a pressure cooker. For every degree of temperature the pressure cooker rose over one hundred, the cooking time was halved; with the temperature Harry was working at, that meant the rice should only need four minutes max. As a result, even the smallest of fluctuations could mean the difference between bullets, perfectly cooked rice, and mush.

Still, Harry couldn't afford to hesitate. If this was going to appear on his plate during the Autumn Elections, then he had to master it. Anything less would have him kicked to the bottom of the pile before he knew it. Even so, the slight fidget to Harry's hands refused to be controlled. At first, it was somewhat tolerable, but barely a minute passed before it grew too annoying for Harry to bear. Fortunately, Harry's potion work within his briefcase had only grown. It didn't take more than a few breaths before a glass of freshly squeezed orange juice was combined with Sansun Manasaka Diyara. Nothing more than a single sip was required before the twitching was nowhere to be seen.

"Thank god I managed to find all these recipes. Be a shame if I lost them in my library." Harry sighed as he leaned back, taking another draw from the bottle almost instantly. As the summer passed, it was becoming a more familiar flavour, as well as several other potions he'd found buried in the depths of several books he had forgotten to read during his travels. None of them was particularly special, but several had stood out for their vastly preferable tastes over the more common equivalents. For someone who sought to integrate potions and cooking, it wasn't possible to imagine a greater treasure trove. "Ah, time, it's time!"

The moment that three minutes passed, a huge hiss filled the air as the pressure was vented from the cooker. The scents locked within rushed out like a waterfall, the multiple spices fusing to create into an aroma even more formidable than the first. Anyone in the vicinity would find their mouths watering without question, and that was without glimpsing the rice itself.

Harry need not have worried. With the lid removed, perfectly steamed rice was revealed. Though there was already a sheen, the addition of just a teaspoon of ghee gave the whole dish a magnificent shimmer. Furthermore, as if the texture wasn't good enough already, the addition of the fried onions prepared before provided an excellent crunch. In all honesty, Harry should've waited for the rice to cool rest for five minutes before doing so, then allowed it more time to cool. With the excitement of his success however, the patience required wasn't there. If there was any major difference, it simply meant that the final product would taste even better than it did then.

Taking the most cautious of bites, a momentary cheer escaped the boy as he was drawn back to India and the Parsi family he had resided with. It may not have been the strongest flavoured dish, but that was never the intention. A sophisticated flavour that paired well with other dishes, yet kept you coming back for more – that was what characterised the caramelised rice. No meal could stand without a strong foundation, and a strong foundation was exactly what the rice provided.

In an instant, Harry felt himself enveloped in comfort only a lively home could bring. That soothing sensation of a mother's love to her children and a wife's love to her husband was poured into every grain, or as much as Harry could hope to replicate. For one who didn't have the greatest of familial environments growing up, there was only so much Harry could achieve. That he was able to recreate the caramelised rice to this extent was a miracle worth celebrating. Now Harry just had to move onto the hard part.

The actual curry.

And that's it for now! Making potions up is kind of fun. All the ingredients mentioned are apparently used in the Harry Potter universe and their effects are as canonical as I can afford to make them. Maybe you can use that potion as a clue for what kind of mysterious curry is coming up? I don't know, but please look forward to the next chapter!

Super hero time! See you next time!