Chapter 4 Revelations

Disclaimer: You'd like me to write something here wouldn't you? Well, I'm too smart for you and I'm going to leave this disclaimer blank. Not a word will grace it . . .

"Chief," ninety nine called out as she entered the office. "I think we've figured out what Black was doing, and you're not going to believe it."

"What is it?" The Chief demanded.

"Two things, or I should say at least two things." Ninety nine amended, "when you're working with Black you can never be sure."

"What's the first one?"

"You've heard the saying 'you can't break an omelet without breaking a few eggs?'" Ninety nine continued at the Chief's nod, "Mr. Black made an omelet without breaking any eggs, a lesson in morality. At a guess he's telling us to play nice, but with him . . ."

"Anything is possible," the Chief interrupted.

"What's the second?"

"The second is a bit more interesting," ninety nine replied.

"Well what is it?"

"Why don't I show you," ninety nine suggested. "To be honest, I wouldn't have believed it without seeing it myself."

"Get on with it then," the chief said gruffly.

"Come on in," ninety nine called out. Several men rushed in and began setting up a small kitchen.

"What are you . . ."

"Just watch sir," ninety nine commanded. For the next few minutes, the chief watched his men cook and he was beginning to worry that he'd been a bit too hard on them. Just when it was starting to look like the only thing he was going to learn is that sleep deprivation isn't conductive to good research methods, ninety nine approached with an odd looking potion and an omelet.

"What's that?" The Chief demanded.

"Why don't you try the omelet first?" Ninety nine suggested.

"Why don't you tell me what you've found out," the Chief retorted "Before I'm forced to move you from field work to food service." He took a bite, "I might do that anyway, this is rather good."

"That's just it Chief," ninety nine said quickly. "Open the bottle of potion."

The Chief opened the bottle and immediately regretted it, "what's this vial stuff?" The foul smell wafting from the bottle made everyone wish they had no nose.

"Just watch sir," ninety nine commanded. One of the others took the potion and began making another omelet, this time adding half of the horrible potion. "What he just added is a Odor Acerrimus potion, known far and wide as being the worst smelling and worst tasting potion in the world with both features completely impervious to any clouding or alteration. It has no use besides that and so far only a man named Zonko is none for making any use of it."

"What does this have to do with anything?" The Chief growled.

"Take a bit sir." ninety nine handed the Chief the second omelet. The Chief's face went pale and he was starting to regret allowing this demonstration to take place. After a few minutes of psyching himself up, the chief cut off a very small piece and gingerly placed it in his mouth. Eyes widening in disbelief, he tried a larger one, and then tried a piece from the 'normal' omelet. "I can't believe this," he said in shock.

"Neither could we sir," ninety nine agreed. "And it works on every potion we thought to try."

"Incredible, I wonder if any of the others have managed to figure it out?"

Ninety nine blushed, "actually sir, after we figured it out we realized that Mr. Black told us how it works but we just didn't understand what he meant."

"What do you mean?" The Chief demanded.

"The last step," ninety nine explained. "He said that 'now's the time you can add something extra' or words to that effect. We had the solution in front of us the entire time. He even asked if anyone had any questions."

"Don't worry about that," the Chief commanded. "When it comes to Mr. Black, nothing is ever what it seems. He tricked us by not tricking us."

IIIIIIIIII

"Uh . . . Mr. Black," Henchgirl said nervously. "You have a visitor."

"Oh?" Harry asked, "who?"

"Some cook from Japan," Henchgirl replied. "And I think you should see this."

"Ok," Harry agreed. "Let's go." Harry followed Henchgirl out of his office and stared in shock at the odd man he found waiting for him. The man was dressed in a silver chef's outfit and was carrying at least two dozen cooking knives.

"I am the Steel Chef," the man introduced himself. "The sixty third generation of the Yamajima school of cooking. I have spent the last ten years wandering around the globe challenging masters and learning new cooking techniques."

"Really?" Harry asked with a raised eyebrow, "you're hired. When can you start?"

"Wha?" The Steel Chef asked in shock, he had come to this cursed place to challenge an immortal to a duel to determine the best chef and he was being offered a job?

"The Pencil will give you any papers you need to sign and show you to your rooms," Harry continued. "Welcome aboard." Harry grabbed the dazed man's hand and gave it a firm shake, "I know you'll do us proud."

"Thank you?" The Chef said reflexively.

"Now if you will excuse me, I must be getting back to my business." Harry said with a smile, "be sure to ask if you have any questions or need anything. Let's go Henchgirl."

"Ok," Henchgirl agreed.

"I . . ." the Steel Chef didn't move for several minutes.

"Excuse me," Percy called out to the unmoving man. "Would you like to sign these forms now or see your apartments first?"

"I came to challenge him," the Steel Chef said dumbly. "And he gives me a job."

"He'd have likely looked at the challenge as an interview," Percy said with a shrug. "Be happy, the fact that he hired you means that he considers you the best in your field. He only hires the best he can find."

"I . . . I shall do everything I can to live up to such high expectations," the Steel Chef said humbly. "Truly Mr. Black is as great a man as I have heard."

"I'm glad to hear that," Percy said honestly.

IIIIIIIIII

"Moody here," the paranoid auror answered his Zippo.

"You may wish to avoid identifying yourself when you answer," the voice replied. "It could allow some miscreant to track you down."

"Who is this?" Moody growled.

"Oh, forgive me for not introducing myself. This is the Professor, I work for Mr. Black."

"What do you want?" Moody demanded.

"You," the Professor replied. "To teach a course or two on Mr. Black's island, he recommended you by name."

"Really?" Moody asked in interest, "what'd he say?"

"He said that you were fairly good at what you do," the Professor replied. "But that you need to pay more attention to your surroundings."

"He would have said that," Moody replied. "Tell him that I accept, and be sure to pass along my thanks for the Whiskey."

"I will," the Professor agreed. "And on behalf of Black Ink I'd like to welcome you to the team."

IIIIIIIIII

Harry was wandering through the halls when he discovered a group of people milling around a door. Curious, he decided to move in and investigate.

"What's all this?" Harry asked.

"Just getting ready for class," one of the people replied.

"Class?" Harry prompted.

"New huh?" The man said in understanding, "well here's how it works on the island. You can attend any class you wish to take, use some of the library, and view the recordings of previously taught classes. In return you agree to deal with any situations that Mr. Black sends your way to the best of your ability and you may be asked to teach a few classes of your own."

"Sounds good," Harry said with a smirk. "What's this class?"

"We like to call it the History of Mr. Black," the man said with a grin. "It's taught by the Hogwarts Defence Against Dark Arts Professor, chap named Hamilton."

"If it's taught by one of the Hogwarts Professors, " Harry began. "Then who's teaching at Hogwarts."

"He comes here in his spare time," the man replied. "The most interesting aspect of the classes is hearing about Hogwart's prized duelist."

"Prized duelist?" Harry asked dumbly.

"Girl named Lavender Brown," the man replied. "Hamilton says that she has a fine mind for innovation."

"Really?"

"Finest since Mr. Black," the man agreed.

"Sorry to interrupt but this seemed like a good place to ask," one of the new students began. "So exactly who is Mr. Black?"

"I heard he was a ten thousand year old ex dark lord," one of the men whispered. "One so terrible that our image of death was based on his deeds."

"I heard that he really was death," another added.

"I heard that he was just a guy on vacation," Harry said. "One with terrible luck."

The rest of the men laughed and one slapped Harry on the back, "good one kid."

"The thought of Mr. Black being one of us," one of them laughed. "Has the same odds as . . . as . . . Mr. Black being Harry Potter."

"Who?" A dark looking woman asked above the laughter.

"Kid in England that blocked the killing curse as a babe," someone explained. "Disappeared after the death of that Dark Lord they were having trouble with."

"Ah," the woman's eyes lit up in understanding. "Thank you."

"No Problem," the man agreed.

Unnoticed by all, Harry slipped out of the crowd and continued his exploration of the massive fortress.

IIIIIIIIII

"I'm glad you had enough responsibility to come to this meeting boys," Molly favored her twin sons with a benevolent look. "And I'm sure you can guess what this is about."

"Nope," Fred replied.

"Can't think of a thing," George agreed.

"You going back to school," Molly explained calmly. "It's time for you to give up that silly joke shop so you can go back to school and finish your exams and get proper careers in respectable professions."

"Sorry to disappoint you mum -"

"- but we're happy where we are," Fred finished.

"You can't expect to make a living on your pranks," Molly tried another tactic. "Why don't you just give all that up? Think of your future," she pleaded.

"Goodbye mother," George said as he stood up.

"It has become obvious that this meeting was a waste of time," Fred agreed as he rose to his feet. Both twins winced at the small item that fell out of Fred's pocket when he stood.

"Boys?" Molly stared in shock at the badge that had dropped out of Fred's pocket.

"Well -"

"- Mum who - -"

"- do you think gave us -"

"- the Seed money to start our business."

"Why didn't you tell us?" Molly couldn't believe the twins kept something like this from the Order.

"Because you never asked," George shrugged. "Besides, it was a business matter - -"

"- had nothing to do with the Order," Fred agreed.

"It was most certainly not a business matter," Molly couldn't rip her eyes away from the badge. "Why didn't you tell us?"

"Because the Order is a private organization," Fred sighed. "We helped out as much as you let us without revealing our cover."

"Which wasn't much," George shook his head. "We didn't get much respect from the Order -"

"- or any tasks of note." Fred shook his head.

"We weren't sure about the loyalty of all the members -" George began.

"- or that they could keep their mouth's shut." Fred explained.

"And we didn't have permission to reveal ourselves," George finished with a shrug. "You would have never known if Fred hadn't have been so clumsy."

"Suppose it doesn't matter so much," Fred said as he picked up the badge and put it in his pocket. "Though we would appreciate it if you didn't say anything about this."

"Neither of us is willing to try memory charms on our own mother," George frowned. "No matter how big a risk she is to our covers."

"The lives you would risk by talking belong to us," Fred added. "You brought them into the world and I suppose that you're the best person to decide that they need to leave the world."

"So tell Dumbledore and the rest of the Order if you want -"

"- we don't care anymore." With that the twins popped out, leaving their distraught mother behind.

"We could have handled that better," George admitted after they had returned to the privacy of their shop.

"She's under a lot of stress with Harry gone," Fred agreed. "Maybe we should try contacting him again?"

"We'd have to spend less time talking to the girls of Acme Inc." George cautioned, "it'd take a while to convince Harry to come back even for a visit if he didn't want to."

"And I'm sure he'll come around on his own eventually," Fred added. "No need for us to push him."

"It'd be the wrong thing to do anyway," George agreed. "Best to let things resolve themselves . . . what was the time difference again?"

"It'll be a few hours before they're awake enough to answer their floo without cursing us," Fred lamented. "Don't see why they insist on sleeping a full eight hours."

"You like to sleep twelve hours," George pointed out.

"And so do you but not when we have something important to do," Fred rebutted.

"Excellent point twin of mine," George agreed. "What do you suggest we do in the meantime?"

"We could work on our Animagus transformations," Fred replied. "The girls sounded excited when we told them about our forms."

"Though what's interesting about a rabbit and a duck . . ." George trailed off.

"They're girls," Fred explained. "Their brains are less evolved than ours are."

"I wouldn't suggest you tell them that," George said quickly. "Or even think it around them, they have powers."

"Mysteriously mysterious powers," Fred agreed. "They know what we're thinking."

"Quite a feat when we don't half the time," George added. "So . . . enough gabbing, let's get down to it."

AN: Doing lots of work and don't have much time to write at the moment, hope to have more time soon.