The next day, Shawn showed Old Percy everything he could not understand, and the old man happily went off to experiment again.
Only then did Shawn breathe a sigh of relief, rising to his feet and stretching unobtrusively.
He checked his Mechanical Wristwatch. Good grief, he had been at it for over thirty hours. It was already noon, and he had missed the morning Potions Class.
At least Shawn remembered to send Tom a message first, allowing him to cooperate with the international Auror forces on a limited basis.
At least when it came to dealing with Voldemort and investigating the temple ruins, their goals were still aligned.
With his business here finished, he left the Room of Requirement. After a moment's thought, he headed toward the Basement, intending to discuss their plans to "set Harry up" with Snape.
As he passed the kitchen, he turned, tickled the pear that served as its entrance mechanism, and went inside.
After a welcome from the house-elves so enthusiastic that he could not refuse it, Shawn finally called their leader aside.
"Copper Ladle, it's been two months now. How are the hot pot experiments coming along?"
Copper Ladle shook his head.
"My lord, it's all our fault. We elves are naturally unable to tolerate very spicy food. Every time we make a hot pot base or chili oil, we can't taste it properly and can only guess. We've truly let down your trust. It's all because I'm useless."
Thump! Thump!
The elderly house-elf looked increasingly miserable as he spoke, then began pounding his own head in self-reproach.
Shawn froze for a moment before understanding dawned on him.
No wonder the house-elves, normally so good at cooking, could not manage a hot pot base. The chilies had knocked them out outright.
Left with little