Disclaimer: What happened in the mission with the two heirs is loosely adapted from the plot of a movie I can't even remember the title of.

"What?! They abandoned the ones who got captured?!"

Skull gave the public bathroom he had sequestered himself in another suspicious sweep before turning his attention back to Ron's face on the magic mirror. Painful reminder or not, it was the most secure method of communication they had. And he needed to give his friends an update on the latest fiasco he found himself in, especially considering the kind of "comrades" he had been saddled with.

"Yeah. I mean, they are all very strong and clearly didn't need the help in the end, but they were just so... apathetic. Really, I don't know what this is suppossed to be, but if it requieres us to work together it isn't going to work. Not one of them moved a finger to help. Even the ones that had just come back from being captured looked like they couldn't care less!"

"Wait, how many of them were captured?"

"Almost everyone! Except for Lal and Luce the other ones all got captured or went off on their own and had their communications blocked for a while. What does Checkerface even expect from making these people into a team? They clearly couldn't care less about one another!"

Skull had been too far gone on his ranting to register that Hermione's question had not been delivered with the indignation of Ron's exclamation, but he did have the presence of mind to puzzle over her deadpan look when she continued her questioning.

"And how did you manage to get away from them to contact us again?"

"I let some of the thugs we were fighting drag me out of sight and... pretended to be... captured."

Skull could practically feel Hermione's judgemental stare on him and Ron even across the mirror. He had to wonder if his blush clashed as horribly with his new hair colour as it did Ron's.

At least now he knew why Reborn had looked at him so incredulously when he had finally cracked and asked if they shouldn't help the others.

"I see you didn't need help in the end, Lackey"

Skull gave Reborn what he knew would be a very ineffective scowl, since he was still flushed in embarrassment, but he had to try. If only because the arse persisted with the annoying nickname.

(He'd never admit that the first time he heard it he had almost instantaneously felt an enormous weight lift off his shoulders. Here nobody expected him to lead and it was honestly startling just how liberating that was.)

But his revelation that he was not the only one keeping secrets did give him things to ponder. He had wondered what the deal was with Lal pretending to be unaware of the blond following them (who had called himself Colonello, and Skull had struggled to keep the incredulous expression off his face at that), since he had known that they had arrived together.

Now, of course, he realized that his attempt at "wooing" her had simply been an excuse to get close so she could slip him information about what they had been up to.

Sure, he had been peripherally aware that there was no way that Reborn, Viper and Verde were real names, but it hadn't exactly clicked until that moment that these people were competent.

Skull felt... conflicted, about that. That only made them even more dangerous, obviously. Some or all of them were most probably in on whatever Checkerface's plan was, and the reminder that they were considered the Strongest in their respective fields only exacerbated the sense of danger he was in.

But. But they didn't need him. Sure, Checkerface probably did for... whatever it was he had reunited them for. But these people could look after themselves. They didn't need him to be a leader, or a saviour. Merlin, by their standards he barely qualified for lackey.

That thought probably shouldn't make him so happy.

(Also, he was so glad he had gotten Oodako. The lesson about not everything being as it seems had finally sunk in! He hadn't charged straight in to the "rescue" and horribly embarrassed himself! Hermione would be so proud.)

Looking at them now, in fact, it was obvious that he wasn't the only one holding things back. The way they acted, the things they said and didn't say, the way they fought...

All of them were being very restrained. In fact, they were doing much the same as Skull himself. They portrayed strong personalities (or at least personalities with very strong, defining characteristics that now Skull would bet didn't define them at all) and talked about the here and now, but none of them volunteered personal information.

Even their fighting styles looked painfully simple at first glance. Reborn and Lal shooted things, Fon fought hand to hand, Viper used illusions and Verde sent his robots to do the work for him. There was no way the World's Strongest were a group of one-trick ponies. Luce was exempt from fighting due to her pregnancy, but Skull was starting to suspect that she was still able to fight if the need arose.

Skull himself was using only the running and hiding skills he had refined from years of "Harry Hunting", though at least he had the valid excuse of not knowing how to use his Flames yet. Which, come to think of it, probably made him look like a slacker. Lal wasn't trained on combat use of her Flames either, but she was using a gun.

His problem was that he didn't know how to use any weapon other than his wand, and that was out because of the Statute of Secrecy. But, just as he was aware that if they were the World's Strongest there must be a reason, the others were probably wondering what he was hiding. And why he was not contributing to the team effort, since all of them could do that without revealing too much.

Didn't it figure. He was in exactly the same situation as everyone around him and he still managed to make a terrible first impression because of circumstances beyond his control.

The following weeks weren't much better. Skull had entered the "surreptitiously try to sound out their teammates" game a little late, and it showed.

The only things he had been able to glean off their reactions were incredulity that it took him this long to wise up and relief that he was leaving the most annoying aspects of his persona for the missions. Which didn't mean that he was acting like himself, of course. He wasn't going to give out all of his secrets just because they knew he was pretending.

His companions seemed to understand the feeling, because nobody called him on it, though the odd grateful glance he caught when he failed to overreact to something as he had been doing almost made him roll his eyes. He hadn't been that annoying.

Helping out more on their missions was not as easy it looked, either. As the one with the "professional career" on driving -and Viper's judgemental stare had made him flush horribly, but it wasn't his fault he had only had a couple of months to construct his cover story, dammit- he had been the designated escape driver at first.

It hadn't lasted. After the first few times there was always someone "coincidentally" on the driver seat before he could get there. Obviously they didn't trust him with their getaway and, while he could understand the feeling, it still rankled. He shut up and bore it, though. He wasn't so desperate that he'd spill his secrets for a little trust.

(Unbeknownst to Skull, the rest of the Strongest didn't fear his driving out of a lack of faith on him. It was more that, as Harry, he had been used to sharp turns and high speeds on a broom, always moving with "up" and "down" as valid options when changing directions. His career as a stuntman, brief as it had been, had been successful because he had not changed the way he moved, simply compensated for the differences between bike and broom, which seemed impressive and dangerous to his public. His getaway driving was, as a result, very effective. But also something nobody wanted to experience unless there was no other option)

He was stuck, because his only other usable talent (that wouldn't land him on Azkaban for breaching the Statute) was predicting when things were going to go to hell. And that only made the others more suspicious of him.

The pattern was so reminiscent of his Hogwarts days he almost wanted to laugh. Or cry. Probably cry.

He started by making a wild guess as to what was going to go wrong. Inevitably, he was ignored. Just as inevitably, he ended up being wrong. And when he finally caught what it was that was bothering him about the situation and structured it into a workable theory, he ended up being right. And at that point it typically didn't matter if they believed him or not, because it was already too late.

Being in a group with highly competent individuals was a great experience in that no matter how crazy the plan or difficult the odds, everyone was able to pull through. It was also unnerving when they thought he could be the one that got them in the messes in the first place.

Granted, telling Reborn "I just have terrible luck" when he asked what made him suspect that their missions weren't what they appeared wasn't the most convincing argument ever. But there just was no way of properly explaining Potter Luck to someone who was unaware of the clusterfuck Britain's Second Blood War had been.

Fortunately for him, Reborn was apparentely famous for his ability to read body language and being impossible to lie to as well as for being the World's Greatest Hitman.

Which left the whole group torn between believing that he was being honest, or that he was the World's Greatest Actor.

Skull was sure the others would be convinced that he was Checkerface's agent if it wasn't because he usually was the one in the middle of whatever the mess was.

On the bright side, he finally learned to use his Flames to heal himself. Seeing the purple fire knit his skin together was a bit nauseating in a this-should-be-hurting-me kind of way, but undeniably cool as well.

(And a bit infuriating too. Couldn't he have learned to do this years before and saved himself a ton of trips to the Hospital Wing?)

The deciding factor that made them finally accept that Skull maybe was just that much of a pessimist didn't come until they were asked to investigate who had tricked the heirs of two rival Famiglias into marrying when they each thought the other was a civilian.

They had been about to tell the Dons that it had been one of the bride's closest friends (since she had been the one to hire the priest) when Skull had told them his theory. The rest of the group had looked at him as if he was crazy when he told them, but both bride and groom had been within earshot and confirmed it.

Apparentely, they both had met completely by chance and assumed that the other was a civilian, then discreetely investigated and discovered the other's identity. They had immediately suspected the other of foul play and continued to "date", expecting a backstab at any second, then... played a game of chicken with the wedding to see when the other would give up the act, both secretely planning to hire an actor to act as the priest.

Both had forgotten, and since neither had told their friends about their suspicions, had ended up married for real.

Skull would be empathetic to his companions' looks of disbelief, but really, this kind of thing wasn't anywhere close to the craziest thing he had heard about -or even had happen to him.

Though he did resent their looks of disbelief when he called the situation romantic. The heirs had decided that they wanted to keep their marriage valid. They had no ground to accuse him of not knowing how normal people acted.

He had finally escaped their suspicion with that one when it became clear that not even the two who caused the situation had been aware of everything that happened, so that was a relief at least.

"Why didn't you tell us your octopus could become so big?! I thought we would drown for sure!"

" ...I didn't know Oodako could do that either."

Skull couldn't really blame Lal for her stricken look. He was pretty sure he didn't look much better. Still, if they had been dumped on the sea because the whole floor they had been standing in was a trapdoor...

"Don't you think this is bigger than we first thought? If they have been at the smuggling business long enough to change their entire reception floor into a trapdoor as a contingency..."

Click.

"Don't. Jinx us. Lackey."

Skull huffed but shut up. Reborn seemed to have come up with the ridiculous notion that their missions went FUBAR more often than not because he invited the bad luck with his theories, but that was absurd.

(He ignored the tiny voice in his head that pointed out that Reborn might be inadvertenly right if the cause was Potter Luck)

Then his eyes landed on an equally grumpy Viper and all thoughts of luck and theories about their latest mission disappeared from his mind.

Silver eyes.

There was no mistaking it. He couldn't even tell himself that he had imagined it on the split second she took off her hood to drain the water in it, because he had even used his Pensieve to replay the moment.

(In his room after setting alarms on the door and window and he used the Pensieve while inside of his trunk, because he wasn't taking chances with this kind of information.)

He knew of only one family in which silver eyes were a common trait.

Skull spent a fair few days dithering, because this was an entirely new complication and he could be working himself up over nothing if that kind of coloring was common among Flame users.

In the end, though, he bit the bullet.

(When did he ever do anything else?)

"A Black?! Are you sure?"

"No. Which is why I need you to see if there is someone she could match among the people that were blasted off the Black Tapestry over the years."

Skull was really grateful that everyone took it as a given that all of them would go on their own at some point during their missions, because he was too worked up to think about a good excuse, or even sweep the place for bugs as thoroughly as usual.

"And what will you do if there is?"

Skull sighed at Andromeda's worried look. What indeed.

A week later Andromeda's investigation revealed a presumed-dead daughter of Marius Black, who had been a squib himself. Apparentely she had been initially recognized by the family because it was thought that she had magic, then was kicked out when the Sorting revealed that she was just as much of a squib as her father.

Skull had winced at the story, because she was just three years older than him, which meant that Sirius had been in Azkaban and Andromeda disgraced in the eyes of the family for all the period between the Blacks suspecting she had magic and her being cast out. So she hadn't had any help once her father died at the beginning of the war.

Skull could see how that series of events would have pushed her to the world of the mafia, especially because Mist Flames could very easily be mistaken for magic.

(And he was doing his best not to wonder what had caused her Flames to manifest so early in her life.)

In the end he asked Andromeda to reinstate her as a member of the House of Black. Possible enemies or not, nobody deserved to have their memory erased from the records of their family. And if he was wrong and Viper wasn't a Black, a squib who was wronged by the family would receive the stipend that corresponded to single members of the family that didn't have parents. That was a win-win situation in his book.

Viper had learned when she was very young what the truly important things were in the world.

She had been subjected to her extended family's attempts to "scare magic into her" despite her father's protests, and that had been when her Flames manifested.

(Later, when she was older and jaded and used to the ugliness of the Underworld, she would revisit those memories and wonder if her father and her were the only squibs of the Black line because all the other children had magic or if it was because their attempts to "discover if the children had magic" were in fact just straight up killing the squibs and her father and her were the only ones who survived.)

That had been the start of her education as a Black Lady. And as a Black Lady she learned that power was the most important thing in the world. Power was to be seeked, harnessed and used in an effort to better and protect the Most Ancient and Noble House of Black.

That way she had learned how to obtain information from gossip, how to use it like the weapon it could be and how to use it to get safety and money.

She had been a child then, content to soak up her lessons and prove that yes, her father was an asset. That he had contributed something valuable -her- to the family and that no matter what Aunt Walburga and Cousin Narcissa said, he was not a disgrace.

She had been happy to learn and grow, becoming good enough at her "magic" that she could control her "accidental" illussions and even feel the tiny pinprick of magic that was her conexion to the Family Tree.

(It wouldn't be until much, much later that she would discover that the only reason she could feel it was because that was the only piece of magic that had ever touched her.)

Her happy days had ended the moment that damned Hat shouted "SQUIB!" for the entire Wizarding World to hear. She had been humiliated and cast aside, and her kind, kind father had let her go overseas to study in an effort to give her a clean start.

(Years later she would wonder if he was worried the family would try to erase their shame in a permanent manner if she continued living in London.)

Viper was a Black, though. She had been educated as one and nobody could ever claim that the lessons hadn't made an impact.

So she had cast aside everything she had learned in a fit of anger and wounded pride. She had been bitter, and oh so very resentful. Because she had her illussions, so how could that stupid Hat call her squib?

For years she had ignored her lessons on information gathering, on being aware of everything and everyone that could hurt her family and concentrated on trying to prove that she could be a witch if she just trained her fire that bit more.

And then her father had died.

An accident, they said. Strange circumstances, to be sure, but no feasible way for it to have been a murder.

When she went to the Wizarding World in search for answers, she found an entire society of people burying their heads in the sand and a war on the brink of going from covert hits to open attacks.

Viper had sworn then to never again be as unaware of the goings on around her. She had started by obscuring her identity as much as possible.

(Never volunteer information about yourself, you stupid girl!)

Then she started amassing information, buying and selling it the way she had been taught how to do so long ago.

Before she knew it she was waist deep on an entirely new society, discovered what her pretty indigo magic actually was and she was well on her way to being not only a good Information Broker but the Best.

(Her reputation as a miser had been an accident. She had charged with the prices she had learned in mind, forgetting for a moment that she was not dealing with Pureblood society anymore.)

But, even satisfied with her current life as she was, she couldn't help prodding at where her broken connection with the Blacks used to be from time to time.

Which is why she instantly felt it when it snapped back into place.

AN: This was going to be funny all the way through, but Viper stole the show on the end there.

Also, I GOT A SHOUTOUT ON SLIP UP. You people have no idea how happy I am right now.