The smell of frying bacon filled the Dursley kitchen as Harry worked over the stove, carefully adjusting the heat. His small hands moved with practiced efficiency, cracking eggs, flipping toast, and stirring porridge with just the right consistency.
But today, something was different.
For the past week, he had been using the knowledge absorbed from Petunia's mind and the Library of Arcane Truths to refine his cooking. He corrected her mistakes—too much salt in the potatoes, overcooked bacon, under-whipped eggs. Small adjustments, barely noticeable at first, but the results spoke for themselves.
Today, he was going a step further.
The previous night, he had sorted through various recipes stored in his Library—some from Petunia's mind, others absorbed from cookbooks she had glanced through over the years. But knowledge alone wasn't enough; he needed practical results.
So he experimented. Subtle improvements. A slight reduction in oil here, a different seasoning there. The goal was simple—make the food taste better without raising suspicion. If the Dursleys were pleased, they might be more open to his next request.
He set the plates on the table just as Vernon walked in, yawning loudly.
"Smells good," he grunted, settling into his chair.
Petunia followed, casting a wary glance at him, as always. Dudley stomped down the stairs moments later, already complaining about something insignificant.
Harry stood quietly in the corner as they ate, observing their reactions.
Vernon chewed, swallowed, then nodded. "About time you learned to cook properly, boy."
Petunia didn't comment, but he saw the slight raise of her eyebrows when she tasted the eggs. Dudley, for once, wasn't complaining about the food, which meant the changes had worked.
Good.
Now came the next step.
Harry cleared his throat. "Aunt Petunia?"
She turned to him, looking suspicious. "What?"
"I've been improving my cooking, and I was thinking… maybe I could find more recipes at the library?"
Petunia blinked. "The library?"
"I could look up different ways to make things. New dishes. Maybe even healthier ones." He deliberately kept his voice neutral, just slightly eager—but not too eager. Let her think it was nothing more than a desire to improve his usefulness.
Vernon snorted. "What, you think you're some fancy chef now?"
Harry kept his gaze lowered. "No, Uncle Vernon. I just thought it might help."
Petunia hesitated. He could see the gears turning in her head. A better cook meant better meals. Better meals meant Vernon would be in a better mood. And, most importantly, if Harry was occupied with cooking, he wasn't doing anything… unnatural.
Finally, she sighed. "Fine. I suppose I can take you there once a week."
Harry hid his satisfaction.
This was progress.
He gave a small nod. "Thank you, Aunt Petunia."
Dudley made a face. "Ugh, does this mean you'll be making weird food now?"
Harry just smiled. "No, Dudley. Just better food."
His cousin huffed and turned back to his plate.
Harry returned to his cupboard that night, staring at the ceiling in the dim light.
Step one: Secure access to the library—done.
The Dursleys had given him permission for entirely selfish reasons, but that didn't matter. What mattered was the opportunity.
The library wasn't just about cooking. It was knowledge. Books. Resources. A place where he could gather information and expand his understanding of both magic and the world.
This was only the beginning.