'So, where's this new product you've been going on about?'

The tall, lanky-ish man wearing a pinstriped suit smiled at his partner from across the wooden desk, and pulled up a briefcase with the texture of weathered birch, placing it onto the similarly textured desktop before opening it.

'This,' said the man in a dramatic tone, 'is my amazing new confectionary!'

He pulled the doggie-bag out of the briefcase before closing the aforementioned briefcase, before placing the slightly crumpled opaque brown package onto the case that was supposed to be filled with breifs.

His partner stared at him as he proceded to wave his hands at the rather pathetic looking bag in a "wow look at this awesome thing" manner.

'Oh, stop looking at me like that, and open the bag.'

His partner reached out and opened the bag, peering inside for a while, before looking back up at him in a rather put-out manner.

'Really? Jelly beans? That's the great, amazing, and astounding idea you've been advertising to me for the past month?'

He grinned mischievously, the corners of his mouth turning up and curling in as he did so.

'Go on, taste one.'

His partner reached out a hand into the bag while staring at him dubiously, before pulling out with a very slightly yellow shaped flavoured dot of chewiness in between the tip of his thumb and index fingers.

He looked on expectantly as his partner popped the bean in his mouth, and laughed uproariously as his face contorted into a grimace as the taste of dirty, week-old, athletes'-foot-infested, wet, and putrid-smelling socks filled his mouth.

He continued laughing as his partner frantically spat out the barely-chewed bean onto the originally-spottless carpet before pulling out his wand and pointing it at his mouth.

'Scourgify!' incanted his partner in the midst of coughing, retching and gagging.

His laughter only intensified when he heard his partner's sigh of relief as the taste of old and nasty spandex cotton left his mouth.

'What,' said his now no longer retching partner as soap suds formed around his mouth, 'in the multiple various names of the third realm of large, purple chairs was that.'

'That, my friend,' he replied, still chuckling, 'is my ticket to fame and fortune.'

"Explain before I hex you to next Sunday, you tosser." His partner raised his wand threateningly to emphasise his threat.

'Oh, come on, just imagine, the possibilities. Jelly Beans, of every concievable and non-instantly-toxic flavour under the Sun, Moon, and stars, relatively easy to produce in mass numbers and extremely easy to modify for different, new and exciting tastes!'

He was getting slightly worked up now.

'Just imagine, the marketing possibilities alone! "A risk in every mouthful." I'll be rich! No longer would children have to choose between Chocolate Frogs, or licorice wands, or Sugar Quills, or any other various bits of candy and other assorted confectionaries, when they can just buy a box of Albert Sugrewright's Every Flavour Beans, and get all those flavours, and more! Just think, my good man! Just think!'

Albert's partner nodded at the now rather overexcited man, and said, 'Well done, Albert. Well done.'

As Albert sat back down onto the chair he didn't know he had stood up from, wheezing slightly, basking in the approval from his long-time friend, his partner said, 'However...'

Albert looked up at his partner, only to see his partner pointing his wand straight at the space in between his eyes.

'...I believe that should be called, Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans.'

'Obliviate. Confundus.'

Bertie looked at his partner for a while, with an unreadable expression on his face, before breaking the silence.

'You will bring me to the place where you keep the notes for the Every Flavour Beans that you borrowed from me. You will then go back to your ordinary life, quit your job, and work for me. If the Obliviation Charm did not work, you will forget that you invented the Every Flavour Beans, and believe that I invented them. You will help me with the production of the Every Flavour Beans. You will not give any inclination that you are inventor of the Every Flavour Beans in any way, shape or form, beyond joking, in which after so you will show obvious signs of the statement proclaiming that you are the inventor as being false, in the most obvious manner possible. You will not give any inclination that I am not the inventor of the Every Flavour Beans in any way, shape, or form, beyond joking, in which after so you will show obvious signs of the statement proclaiming that I am not the inventor as being false, in the most obvious manner possible. You will not remember this conversation. You will not remember inventing the Every Flavour Beans, or your proposal of marketing the Every Flavour Beans. You will start displaying signs of depression gradually, and kill yourself as the signs of depression reach a crescendo. If the Obliviation Charm did work, you will comply to the same instructions as if the Obliviation Charm did not work. Do you understand?'

Albert nodded.

'Good. Start carrying out your instructions now.'

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Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans were a great success, which propelled Bertie Bott, the inventor of the candy, to immense fame and earned him great riches.

Albert Sugrewright, Bertie Bott's right-hand man, commited suicide after five years via hanging. His death was met by much sadness, and Bertie Bott was noted to have taken his first break since the invention and release of Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans to grieve for his old friend.

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An idea I got from the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry Forum, written for Assignment #4, History of Magic, Task 1.

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Omake

'Come in.'

Eighteen, nearly Nineteen, years old Gilderoy Lockhart walked, slightly nervously, into the room.

'Come, come, sit down,' gestulated the old man wearing a pinstriped suit in a direction towards the chair at the opposite end of the weathered birch textured desk he was sitting behind.

Gilderoy sat onto the chair.

'Now, who are you, and what do you want?'

'Ermmm...my name is Gilderoy Lockhart, sir, and I'm here to ask you for some advice.'

'Oh? Advice? Tell me, Mr Lockhart, what kind of advice could you possibly get from an old sweetmaker like me?' asked Bertie Bott in a slightly amused and good-natured manner.

'W...Well, sir, any sort of advice, really. Advice on how to become famous, how to make my way in this world, how to become very rich, that sort of advice.'

'Oh? You're asking for quite a lot, Mr Lockhart,' chuckled Bertie.

'Please, sir, I'll do anything for some advice, maybe some connections, or help.'

'Anything, you say?' Bertie had a rather speculative look in his eye. 'What if I told you to come with me, down a dark alleyway, to meet with some of my lonely old friends, hmm?'

Gilderoy gulped a little, but quickly replied, 'I'll do it sir, for a bit of help.'

'I see.'

Bertie moved back a little, and pulled open a drawer in the desk. Out of it he took out a sheet of parchment, and a quill, before turning back to Gilderoy with a small twinkle in his eye.

'You know, Mr Lockhart, you remind me of someone.'

Bertie laid the piece of parchment out on the desk.

'Who, sir, if you don't mind me asking,' Gilderoy blurted, unable to contain his curiosity.

'Me.'

Gilderoy was rather taken aback by this, and blinked several times to show it.

'Oh yes, Mr Lockhart, you are very much like me. I'm going to guess you are planning to go into business, and are trying to gain a foothold in the marketing industry by obtaining the favour of a few tycoons and heads of well-established businesses by any means necessary, including blackmail, sexual favours, begging, and/or a mix of all three, possibly more, am I right?'

Gilderoy tentanatively nodded.

'I'll have you know, I did the same thing as you when I was younger. Lucky for me, there weren't many tycoons and heads of well-established businesses into young, strapping boys back then, and not many who were were attracted to me, possibly due to fashion and sexual taste back then, but most likely due to my grotesque and unappealing figure. Unfortunately, I did not receive any help from any of them either.'

'And lucky for you, I have no interest in you sexually, despite your rather delicate features and feminine-ish shape, but do have interest in helping you.'

Bertie quickly wrote something onto the piece of parchment, and slided it across the desktop towards Gilderoy, who picked it up and read it.

'That, Mr Lockhart, is the Obliviation Charm. With it, you can wipe memories from others' brains. Learn it well, and it will serve you well. Along with alcohol, maybe a Confundus Charm, you'll find that it is very useful for stealing endeavours, deleting mistakes, and much, much, more. It's how I received the recipe for the Every Flavour Beans, actually, from my now-deceased friend, Albert Sugrewright.'

'I'm sorry for your loss, sir.'

'Don't be. I was the one who killed him.'

Gilderoy looked at the pleasantly smiling old man, and nodded slowly and cautiously.

'You may go, Mr Lockhart.'

Gilderoy got up from his chair.

'Thank you, sir.'

'You're welcome. Oh, and Mr Lockhart?'

Gilderoy turned around, hands centimetres away from the door handle of the exit out of the office.

'Yes, sir?'

Bertie smiled.

'Obliviate.'

Bertie got up shakily from his chair, and dropped the quill onto Gilderoy's unconscious body.

He then cleared his throat, and said clearly, 'I've got a lovely bunch of coconuts.'

Gilderoy disappeared in a inwards-spiralling flash of blue.

Bertie then sat back down in his chair, and muttered to himself, 'Hopefully the old chaps remember to Obliviate the boy this time.'

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That's it.

Hope you enjoyed.

~Thick Soup