Early the next morning, Kai Adler arrived at the Granger residence just after dawn.
Hermione answered the door with a sleepy yawn, still in her white bathrobe, her hair slightly tousled and her eyes only half-open.
"Why are you here so early?" she murmured groggily.
Looking at her adorable, sleep-rumpled face, Kai couldn't resist his inner mischief and gave her rosy cheek a playful pinch.
"Mmm…" Hermione let out a half-hearted protest and gave him a sleepy glare—equal parts petulant and fond.
Kai grinned.
"I'm pretty sure someone asked me to make breakfast yesterday," he said innocently.
Hermione's cheeks flushed pink.
She had asked that—though in her defense, only because his cooking was far too delicious to resist.
She slapped his hand away, rolling her eyes playfully. "You didn't have to say yes. I wasn't holding a wand to your throat."
"Heh~ I was more than willing. I offer my culinary skills—and everything else—unto the noble Miss Hermione," he said theatrically, placing one hand over his heart, extending the other dramatically, and dropping to one knee like a knight pledging fealty.
Hermione's eyes widened in alarm. "Stop it!" she hissed, tugging on his arm. "Come in already!"
She'd caught sight of a neighbor jogging past the house, who had just turned their head curiously.
Once inside, she fled upstairs with a flustered, "You go start breakfast. I haven't even brushed my teeth!"
"Right away, my lady," Kai said with a smirk, striding into the kitchen.
From his magically expanded satchel, he pulled out dough he had prepared the night before, along with carefully packed ingredients. He set them out across the counter and rolled up his sleeves.
The Grangers had raved about his Christmas Eve dinner—so much so that when he offered to make breakfast, Hermione and Mr. Granger had instantly agreed.
Only Mrs. Granger had squinted suspiciously.
"You two really are starting to turn your noses up at my cooking, aren't you?"
But even she couldn't deny that Kai's dishes, unfamiliar and subtly seasoned in a way they hadn't experienced before, were addictive.
And so, she'd granted her approval—with the gracious dignity of a woman who knew she was being temporarily outshone.
Kai got to work.
With a flick of his fingers, the kitchen came alive.
Vegetables and cuts of pork floated into the sink, rinsed themselves under running water, then marched in perfect rows to the cutting board. Knives lifted and began chopping in midair with rhythmic precision. Spices levitated gently into waiting bowls. The dough began to roll itself out under an invisible pin.
From the hallway came the soft thuds of footsteps—Mr. and Mrs. Granger were waking up.
"Wow~"
Mrs. Granger's voice came from the kitchen doorway, breathless in awe. She stood, slack-jawed, watching the magical display.
"Morning, Mrs. Granger," Kai said pleasantly, glancing over his shoulder.
She gave a faint nod, eyes fixed on the floating knives and enchanted bowls.
"Are you… cooking?"
"I am." He held up a perfectly rolled dough round. "Please give me about thirty minutes. Breakfast will be ready shortly."
Mrs. Granger blinked, then laughed softly, shaking her head. "Cooking like this… you're going to spoil us forever."
A few minutes later, another voice gasped, "Whoa."
Hermione reappeared, now properly dressed and her hair neatly braided, looking far more alert.
She was staring at the kitchen, her eyes wide with admiration.
For magical-born children, enchanted utensils were commonplace. But Hermione came from a Muggle home. Her house had no magical implements—yet here was Kai, handling a dozen cooking tasks at once, using ordinary tools animated solely by his will.
And every bit of it was wandless.
Hermione's jaw nearly dropped. Simultaneous wandless casting—precise and sustained? That level of magical discipline was extraordinarily rare.
Her heart gave a small skip.
Kai really did surprise her every single time.
He caught her look and raised an eyebrow, amused. "What?"
"N-nothing." She looked away, ears pink.
"Have some tea," he offered. "It's still a bit longer until breakfast's ready."
"I didn't come to rush you," she said quickly, then remembered the actual reason she'd come down.
"Oh! Kai—your Christmas gift. I found one under our tree this morning. It had your name on it."
"Mine?" Kai looked genuinely surprised.
He hadn't expected one. In all the years he'd spent in this world, no one had ever given him a Christmas gift. He had assumed this year would be no different.
He turned instinctively to Mrs. Granger. "Thank you very much."
Mrs. Granger smiled warmly. "Merry Christmas, dear."
But Hermione looked sheepish.
"Actually… it's not from my parents."
Kai paused. "Not…?"
Hermione fidgeted. "Just come see."
Kai wiped the flour from his hands and followed her into the living room, where the tree stood lit in golden lights and silver ornaments. Beneath it was a pile of festively wrapped boxes.
He blinked.
"How many…?"
Hermione looked at the stack and shrugged. "They're all for you."
Kai: "…?"
He frowned slightly. "I didn't know I was that popular."
"And… maybe the people who sent them didn't know your address?" Hermione suggested. "You've only just moved into the country, right? But everyone knows you're always here over the holidays."
Kai knelt and picked up the nearest box. His brows lifted when he saw the name on the tag—elegant, unmistakable cursive.
Albus Dumbledore
Hermione shifted awkwardly. "That one arrived last. Early this morning, actually."
Kai said nothing, staring at the label with a strange look in his eyes.
Then, after a long moment, he let out a soft laugh.
"Seems this year really is different."
From the kitchen, the sound of a rolling pin tapping rhythmically continued.
Hermione turned—only to spot something that made her freeze.
Standing at the kitchen counter was a hazy, human-shaped silhouette made of dark mist—Kai's Obscurus, still diligently rolling out dough and handling ingredients just as Kai had been moments before.
Mrs. Granger looked at it briefly and, perhaps deciding she didn't want to know more, returned to the dining table with a calm sip of her tea.
But Hermione's eyes widened in disbelief.
"Wait—is that your Obscurus?!"
Kai, unbothered, gave her a quick glance. "Yeah."
She stared at the shadowy figure chopping vegetables.
"It's… cooking?!"
"Except for a few days each month, it behaves."
Hermione opened and closed her mouth a few times.
The Obscurus—known throughout magical history as one of the most unstable, destructive magical forces—was wearing an apron and preparing breakfast.
Only Kai Adler could turn one of the most feared magical phenomena into a kitchen assistant.
"I—I don't even know what to say," she muttered.
Kai gave her a lazy smile.
"Then don't. Just enjoy the food."