Just recently you opened a small bakery in Hogsmeade. This has been your dream since childhood, and now - look at this! Your own little baker's heaven. Of course, it was difficult, you worked alone as a baker, a cashier and a barista. Fortunately, very quickly your small business began to grow and bring you more income. Local residents often came to you and soon your small bakery acquired many regular customers. You were always friendly and tried to please everyone, which made the locals like you. Even too much.

Xenophilius Lovegood loved to come into your little bakery and sit there for hours, chatting with you about all sorts of nonsense. He usually began the conversation with strange conspiracies about buns and the fact that jams for pies (and exclusively for pies) are made not from fruits and berries, but from the most dangerous bugs, which it is better not to eat, otherwise you can be covered with goddamn spots for life. By the middle of your conversation, he was actively talking about his daughter’s achievements and how much she is similar to him, and at the end he was chatting about his newspaper. It was nice enough, his company didn’t bother you, so you didn’t mind.

Today was another such day. You were putting the pies on the counter when you heard a familiar voice

— Hello, little baker!