Recipe 02: Joys of Learning Part 02
Chef Francois Takes On Six Years old as Protege
Who is this Hadrian Potter and why had he been chosen as Chef Francois' Protege?
Is Hadrian Potter Chef Francois' love child out of wedlock?
Has Chef Francois gone senile in his old age?
Just as Clarice had foreseen, the revelation that Chef Francois had, for the very first time in his lifelong career, chosen a protege left a significant impression on many, bringing with it a myriad of consequences. For instance, the French culinary media - some well-known examples including magazines such as "Le Fooding," "Gault&Millau," and "Le Figaro Cuisine." and TV channels like France 2, France 3 - always on the lookout for the latest developments in the world of gastronomy, blew up in excitement, immediately launching into a frenzied investigation, eager to uncover every possible detail about this enigmatic protege. During moments like these, Harry was grateful for the decision he had made to change his name to Hadrian. This ensured that the media couldn't possibly trace his past back to his time in Britain – not that it was likely they would have done so anyway. His new identity provided him with a fresh start and a level of privacy that would serve him well.
Even though Hadrian's past as Harry remained hidden, the media's relentless pursuit of information still bore fruit. It wasn't long before a surprising revelation emerged: the protege was an extremely young, hitherto unknown, and entirely untrained individual with no prior culinary experience. This revelation left the culinary media not only baffled but also utterly astonished.
They found themselves grappling with a perplexing question: why would a celebrated chef like Francois choose to mentor someone who appeared to lack any qualifications and experience, especially when renowned graduates from institutions like Le Cordon Bleu were eager to study under him? This unexpected turn of events became the focal point of intense speculation and debate within the culinary world, igniting a whirlwind of curiosity and intrigue among food enthusiasts and industry insiders.
Prominent food critics and journalists in France, such as François-Régis Gaudry and Périco Légasse, were brought in to dissect the affair. Yet, even they found themselves unable to provide a definitive answer to the mystery surrounding the affair.
Francois, feeling a sense of obligation, agreed to numerous interviews in an attempt to explain Harry's extraordinary culinary abilities to the general public. Yet, no matter how many times he tried to convey the truth, skepticism prevailed. It seemed that the more he elaborated on Harry's unique talent, the more people questioned his credibility, and doubts began to cast shadows on his reputation.
Many deemed him senile in his old age, attributing Harry's supposed talents to the whimsical musings of an aging chef. Despite his best efforts, Francois struggled to gain the trust and belief of the public. Even those who claimed to accept his explanations did so with an air of doubt, leaving Francois frustrated and disheartened. It was a lonely battle to convey the truth in a world that had grown increasingly skeptical and dismissive.
Francois couldn't hold others at fault for their skepticism, as he, too, would have dismissed the idea of food having the power to conjure real memories and display them as if they were a movie as utterly implausible, had he not personally encountered it. The experience had been almost beyond words, etching itself into his memory. Since that remarkable day, Francois often pondered if there were additional extraordinary culinary talents hidden within Harry's repertoire. It was an admittedly far-fetched notion, considering that Harry was a chef and not a wizard, but a persistent part of him continued to entertain the idea that, when prepared with exceptional skill, food could indeed possess a kind of enchantment.
However, individuals who shared Francois' extraordinary perspective within the culinary world were a rare breed. The general public, for the most part, clung to the conventional belief that food, no matter how exquisite and delightful, was merely sustenance. While it could certainly trigger feelings of nostalgia, the idea that food could transport people back to their memories as if they were reliving them in the present was widely regarded as an impossibility. Many thought that Francois must be delusional to entertain such a notion.
And thus the disbelief surrounding Harry's uniqueness continued, but to Francois' dismay, the unintended consequence of this was that it triggered a wave of speculation and gossip regarding Harry's "actual relationship" to Francois. And when it was revealed that Francois had adopted Harry, the rumors and conjecture surrounding his true parentage escalated dramatically. Many began to circulate the unfounded theory that Harry was, in fact, Francois's illegitimate child born out of wedlock. The situation quickly escalated into a whirlwind of baseless speculation and gossip, casting a shadow of uncertainty and intrigue over their relationship and the sanctity of Francois' marriage.
It was at this moment that Francois' wife made her first appearance, her arrival marking a turning point in the unfolding narrative.
Mrs. Francois was a woman of refined tastes, in her late 60s, who carried herself with a graceful and aristocratic demeanor. Her attire exuded elegance, with every detail meticulously chosen to reflect her impeccable sense of style. She adorned herself in garments of timeless fashion, often wearing finely tailored dresses in rich, muted colors that accentuated her natural grace.
Every gesture, whether it was a delicate hand movement or a subtle nod, was marked by a poise that reflected her aristocratic upbringing. Her bearing was reminiscent of a ballet dancer, moving through life with a fluidity that captivated those fortunate enough to witness it.
As Harry would come to discover, Mrs. Francois's origins held a fascinating story of their own. She was, in fact, the daughter of a French aristocrat, and her upbringing had been steeped in the traditions and teachings of the aristocracy. Her father had been a strict yet devoted teacher, imparting upon her the knowledge of classical arts, literature, and the cultural heritage of France.
As the daughter of an aristocrat, Mrs. Francois had her pride and that sense of pride made her decidedly unamused by the persistent rumors circulating about her husband's alleged infidelity. Though her marriage to Francois had been one of convenience rather than true romance, it did not mean she was immune to the stinging remarks and snide comments made behind her back. The insinuations that she was dull, unattractive, and incapable of keeping her husband's affections were a source of genuine annoyance.
In addition, she couldn't hide her displeasure over the fact that her husband had made the monumental decision to adopt a child without her knowledge or consent. Francois had expressed, on more than one occasion, his vehement dislike of children, leading her to entertain, if only fleetingly, the notion that this mysterious child might actually be his love child from an illicit affair like the press had speculated.
The doubt gnawed at her like nothing else, and she despised herself for allowing it to creep into her thoughts. She couldn't shake the feeling of insecurity, and she resented her husband for casting that shadow of doubt over their relationship. And she expressed that hate by bashing her husband in the head with her handbag in lieu of a hello. It was lucky the handbag was light and round or Francois might have found himself in need of a stitch or two.
"It's not what you think," was the first thing Francois told her, making both Harry and Clarice wince in unison. They might not be experts in love but even they knew "It's not what you think" was the worst possible way one can choose to start one's explanation.
And as they had expected, Mrs. Francois exploaded.
It took an hour and a few broken porcelain cups for Mrs. Francois to finally calm down enough to hear her husband's explanation. And after Chef Francois had promised her, multiple times, his head hung low with remorse, that Harry was not his love child, she finally let it go and agreed to greet Harry properly.
Harry, having witnessed the way she had nearly upturned the coffee table in her rage, felt more than a little intimidated by her presence. Fortunately, Mrs. Francois displayed a remarkable ability to put children at ease. With her warm smiles and light-hearted jokes, she quickly coaxed Harry into a more relaxed and comfortable state of mind.
"So this is the child with the special ability," Mrs. Francois remarked after they had settled down at the table some time later, to engage in, hopefully, a more civilized conversation. She turned to her husband, her brows furrowing with skepticism as she voiced her doubts, "Are you absolutely sure you haven't gone senile in your old age?" Her words hung in the air, a pointed question that conveyed both her concern and her ongoing reservations about the situation.
"Of course not," Francois protested with fervor, leaning back and giving his wife a pointed glare. "You should know me, my dear. I'm not one to make such claims if I haven't genuinely experienced it. Besides, Clarice saw exactly what I saw. Isn't that right, Clarice?" He turned to Clarice, seeking her validation of their shared experience.
Clarice was momentarily taken aback by being brought into the conversation but quickly nodded her head in agreement, her enthusiasm matching Francois's, the memory of that exceptional egg fried rice experience still vivid in her mind.
Acknowledging Clarice's reputation for honesty and reliability, Mrs. Francois found her skepticism gradually waning. While she remained cautious and couldn't entirely dismiss her doubts that her husband and his protege might be embellishing the truth for the sake of Hadrian's reputation, she finally allowed herself, if only for a fleeting moment, to entertain the notion that this young boy could indeed possess something extraordinary.
Mrs. Francois was acutely aware of her need for more concrete evidence before making any conclusive decisions. She recognized the importance of personally witnessing Hadrian's culinary talents in action to ascertain whether the extraordinary abilities attributed to him were indeed real. If he proved to be as exceptional as they claimed, she entertained the possibility of leveraging her influential connections to support him, much like the behind-the-scenes role she had played in her husband's career - he still didn't know the extent of her involvement in securing those connections to the world's elite.
"Well," Mrs. Francois replied, her lips pursed in contemplation, "Since you appear so certain about this young man's abilities, I will afford you the opportunity to prove yourself." Her willingness to give Hadrian a chance signaled the opening of a door, and it was now up to Hadrian to demonstrate his extraordinary culinary skills and convince her of his potential.
"Right now?" Harry exchanged a quick glance with Clarice. He remained uncertain about the precise role Mrs. Francois had played in Chef Francois's career, but judging by the way the Chef did not object to her proposal, Harry understood that making a strong impression on her was pivotal for his career's progression.
But surprisingly, she shook her head, confusing them even further.
Mrs. Francois clarified, "No, you won't be cooking for me, but for a friend of mine, Charlotte. Her daughter is currently in her last year of high school and is struggling academically. If she doesn't improve, she'll face difficulties graduating. My friend has tried various solutions to kindle her daughter's love for learning, but nothing has worked so far. The girl simply refuses to study. If you can create something that could inspire her to find joy in learning, I will believe in everything you've claimed. And to reward you, my family and I will do everything in our power to support young Hadrian here and you know how valuable that is."
Chef Francois did know the immense value of his wife's support in this matter. Securing her backing could significantly streamline many aspects of their endeavours and with her on board, the path to nurturing Hadrian's talent and advancing their culinary pursuits would undoubtedly become much smoother and more promising.
"Hadrian, I realize this might appear sudden, but it's incredibly important that you succeed in this," Chef Francois said, turning to the boy, his eyes gleaming with anticipation. "Please, consider this your first challenge. I have every confidence that you'll excel, just as you did with that remarkable egg fried rice." His words were filled with both encouragement and expectation, reinforcing the significance of the task ahead.
Across from them, Mrs. Francois fixed Hadrian with a challenging gaze, her scrutinizing look seeming to convey that she expected nothing short of exceptional results from this young chef, emphasizing the high bar that had been set for him. It was a moment of both opportunity and accountability, and Hadrian understood the weight of her expectations.
"So, Hadrian, are you willing to take on this challenge?" Her voice carried a soft and encouraging tone, as if she was extending the choice to Hadrian to accept or decline. However, deep down, Hadrian knew that refusal was not an option.
And since refusal was not an option, Harry didn't hesitate.
"I will."
Truth be told, the challenge still felt somewhat daunting to Harry. He wasn't entirely certain if he could recapture that special feeling that had coursed through him during his previous cooking challenge – the feeling that he knew had been the key to his success, the very intent Clarice had always emphasized. He fervently hoped that he could rediscover that powerful connection, that guiding intention, and that it would guide him to success once again in this new endeavour.
Mrs. Francois appeared satisfied with his response. Whether he had the skills to back up his confidence remained to be seen, but at the very least, she acknowledged his willingness to step up and take on the challenge. His determination and courage did not go unnoticed, and she seemed to appreciate his commitment to making the attempt.
"Good," Mrs. Francois smiled, her approval evident. "Her daughter and her friends have organized a study party in two days. That will be the perfect occasion for you to present your dish. I'll be back around 10 on that day. Please have it ready by then."
With grace and sophistication, Mrs. Francois rose from her seat.
"I shall take my leave now," she announced, her demeanour exuding elegance. "I have a party to attend, and I must prepare myself for the occasion." Her departure marked the end of their meeting, leaving Hadrian with a sense of anticipation for the task ahead.
"What will you choose this time?" Clarice inquired with a keen interest once Mrs. Francois had departed. Her gaze was fixed on Harry, as if she believed he held some secret or insight that had eluded her. Clarice's curiosity was palpable, and Harry decided to satisfy her before she did something extreme like jump on him and ruffle his hair. His hair was already messy enough, thank you very much, and didn't need any more ruffling.
"I think I'll go with a pizza. It can easily be shared between friends and can be eaten while studying. Study sessions are always better with pizza." He had made the decision after careful consideration. This was his first challenge and he put great importance in its success. While pizzas weren't his speciality, he was still confident enough in baking a very good pizza.
"Good choice," Francois nodded, "If you do well, you will see your life change in remarkable ways I'm sure."
Harry nodded, not putting too much truth in his words, already thinking the man was exaggerating.
Except, as he will learn, he was wrong; very wrong.
Two days later, Mrs. Francois arrived at her friend Charlotte's house, holding a pizza box in her hand. They had arrange to meet around noon so that the pizza could serve as the girls' lunch.
"How's it going?" Mrs. Francois inquired, giving her friend Charlotte a sympathetic look. She couldn't help but notice the frustration in Charlotte's demeanor, her eyes appearing slightly red, suggesting a degree of distress or tiredness.
"Not well," she shook her head, "You'll see." She turned her attention to the box.
"So, this is the pizza you promised would make things better," she stated, her skepticism still evident. Mrs. Francois couldn't blame her for her doubts. She had observed Hadrian prepare this pizza only hours ago, and while the process had been a pleasure to watch, the end result was, well, just a pizza. Mrs. Francois herself struggled to comprehend how such a seemingly ordinary pizza could possibly instill a sense of joy for learning in these girls.
"Just give it a try," Mrs. Francois encouraged, her words more an affirmation of her promise to Hadrian than a genuine belief in the pizza's transformative powers. She understood that she had committed to bringing Hadrian's creation to the study party, and she wasn't willing to renege on her word. "It can't make things any worse than they are now," she added, attempting to inject some hope into the situation.
And wasn't that the truth.
Charlotte let out a deep, resigned sigh, her expression reflecting a profound sense of sadness and disappointment. It seemed to encompass not just the current situation but her feelings about everything: herself, her daughter, and the world as a whole. The weight of her emotions hung heavily in the room and all Mrs. Francois could do was stand by her in solidarity.
She recovered after a few moments.
"Come on in then. The girls are in the living room."
As Mrs. Francois entered the living room, the sight of Charlotte's daughter Amelia and her two friends met her eyes. The three girls in question were seated around a table laden with books, creating an atmosphere that suggested intense studying. However, none of them were actually engaged in any academic pursuits. Amelia was absentmindedly sketching in her notebook. On her left, a girl with a short bob-cut was engrossed in her phone, her fingers tapping away. The third girl seemed to be having a silent confrontation with her textbook, her expression conveying a sense of offense or frustration at the material.
Like Charlotte had said, it wasn't going well at all.
Charlotte gave Mrs. Francois a look before calling out: "Girls! Pizza's here. Eat some while you study."
At the mention of food, all three teenagers perked up, their disinterest in studying instantly replaced by excitement. They hurried to their feet and rushed over to where Mrs. Francois and Charlotte were standing, their interest fully captured by the prospect of a meal. The transformation from apathy to enthusiasm was swift and unmistakable.
Charlotte introduced Mrs. Francois to the girls. "This is my friend, Mrs. Francois. She brought the pizza for you today. Please, say thank you, girls," Charlotte requested.
All three girls expressed their gratitude to Mrs. Francois before taking the pizza box from her. As they returned to their study table, Charlotte took Mrs. Francois by the arm and quietly led her out of the room, giving the girls some space to enjoy their meal and potentially find the motivation to study.
Amelia placed the pizza box in the center of the table and opened the lid. Her initial impression was that the pizza looked exceptionally nice and appetizing, with an air of quality that suggested it was quite expensive. As she mentally thanked her mother's friend for providing such a special treat, she grabbed a slice and took her first bite. And in that moment, the world around her seemed to transform.
It was a sensation that defied easy explanation. As Amelia glanced at her textbook, the endless stream of words no longer appeared to her as an insurmountable obstacle waiting to be deciphered. Instead, she saw a new world, ripe for her to explore and uncover its hidden secrets. It was as though she stood at the threshold of an enchanting realm where knowledge was the currency, and the pursuit of learning was a grand adventure waiting to be embarked upon. The mundane had been infused with a sense of wonder and possibility.
In her mind, Amelia ceased to see herself as just a student but rather as an explorer, her passion ignited by the tiny flame of curiosity. Suddenly, things that she had once found dull and uninteresting, such as her notesl, became catalysts for her insatiable desire to learn more. No longer content with mere knowledge, she felt an urgent need to delve deeper, to unravel the mysteries that surrounded her and uncover the hidden wonders of the world.
Amelia eagerly reached for her textbook, her gaze unwavering and fully immersed in its pages. With each turn of the page and each new lesson, she felt like an explorer, venturing into uncharted territories of the mind. The world's history, the mysteries of science, the richness of literature, and the intricacies of mathematics all called to her, offering the promise of intellectual treasures and profound understanding. The mundane had transformed into the extraordinary, and she embraced the journey of discovery with enthusiasm.
Amelia's eyes lit up with excitement as she immersed herself in her studies. Time seemed to lose its meaning as her boundless curiosity propelled her forward. Each new discovery, no matter how small, felt like a triumph, a victory over the unknown. The joy of learning had ignited a fire within her, driving her to explore and conquer the vast expanse of knowledge before her.
It wasn't solely about the absorption of facts and figures; it was the exhilaration of forging connections, of understanding how everything was intricately intertwined. History shaped literature, science elucidated the mysteries of the natural world, and mathematics provided a universal language to express it all. Amelia reveled in the tapestry of knowledge she was weaving, appreciating the beautiful interplay of various subjects and their profound implications.
As her understanding expanded, so did her confidence. Her pace in flipping through the pages accelerated, but it didn't diminish the depth of knowledge she was absorbing. Mathematics became clear and captivating to her, with the relationships between figures fascinating her. With each new formula, she felt like a knight armed with a new weapon, prepared to conquer fresh challenges, and this delighted her immensely. The thrill of mastery and the satisfaction of overcoming obstacles spurred her onward.
Solving math problems had transformed from a tedious chore into an engaging game. Every correct answer filled her heart with joy and broadened her smile. It was no longer about the struggle but the exhilaration of tackling mathematical challenges and emerging victorious, relishing the sense of achievement with each problem solved.
Next to her, the girl with the pony hair had a distinctly different experience.
The ponytailed girl's name was Mari, and the reason she despised studying was because she had dyslexia. However, in her mind, dyslexia was something to be ashamed of, something that set her apart from her peers. Thus instead of sharing her condition with others, she pretended that she simply loathed studying to avoid revealing her struggle.
The moment she took a bite of the pizza, Mari's world transformed. As she gazed at the words on the page, they no longer danced and twisted before her eyes. The letters and sentences stood still and clear, like a calm sea under a bright, clear sky. It was almost unbelievable. For the first time that she could remember, the words made perfect sense, and she read with ease and fluency.
Dyslexia had tormented Mari for years, and the moment she realized it had disappeared was nothing short of magical. For years, she had grappled with the challenges of reading, writing, and comprehending written words. But now, everything fell into place, and the world of words made perfect sense. The burden she had carried for so long had been lifted, and it was an extraordinary moment of liberation and transformation.
A wave of overwhelming emotions washed over Mari, a blend of disbelief, joy, and immense relief. She had to blink back tears as the realization settled in that the years of struggle she had endured were finally behind her. At that moment, a profound sense of empowerment coursed through her, as if she had been given a fresh start in her academic life.
Her newfound ability to read fluently filled Mari with a liberating sense of freedom. The textbooks that had once felt like adversaries were now her allies; each written word, once a source of anxiety, had transformed into her gateway to knowledge and imagination. The written language, which had once been a barrier, had become a bridge to new worlds and endless possibilities.
The girl's confidence soared, and she reveled in her newfound academic and intellectual independence. She had overcome a significant obstacle and emerged stronger and more self-assured the ever, ready to embrace the world of learning with renewed enthusiasm.
Just like Amelia, Mari began to flip through her books with a newfound zeal, her pencil dancing across the pages to capture words and ideas with a freedom that she had almost forgotten. The act of learning had become an exhilarating journey, unburdened by the limitations of her dyslexia, and she embraced it with boundless enthusiasm.
The third girl in the group, who had not taken a bite of the pizza because she had been engrossed in a message on her phone, looked up from her device and was astonished to see her two friends totally unrecognizable.
Six hours later, Mrs. Francois returned to the room to check on the girls and call them for dinner. Truth be told she wasn't expecting much, and was nearly stunned into shock when she saw two of the girls fervently flipping through textbooks with one hand while their other hand scribbled furiously on their notepapers. The third girl sat frozen, her mouth agape, staring in disbelief at her transformed friends, the room a whirlwind of academic fervor.
They refused to stop studying.
"Just a little bit more," Amelia pleaded, clinging to her math textbook as if it were an anchor, a stark contrast to the way she had been mere hours ago. "Please, I need to solve this before dinner or I won't be able to eat."
Her friend with the ponytail reluctantly closed her books.
"I won't be staying for dinner," she said, "I need to go home early so I can get to bed early. That's the only way I'll get to wake up bright and early tomorrow morning to continue studying," she explained, her dedication unwavering.
She beamed at Mrs. Francois, her eyes glittering with unshed tears.
"Before I go, I want to thank you—for the pizza, I mean. What it did for me was magical," Amelia expressed with sincerity. She paused to take a deep breath, summoning her courage before continuing, "I hated studying because I had dyslexia." She had decided to share her secret with the person who had brought about this transformation in her life.
The unexpected confession was so surprising that it left both of her friends looking at her in disbelief. However, Amelia paid no attention to their reactions, her gaze unwaveringly fixed on Mrs. Francois as she continued to speak.
"I thought I would never see the day it would go away, but when I took a bite of that pizza," her whole body trembled with the intensity of the memory, "it was just gone. I never believed in miracles Mrs. Francois, but today I witnessed one and it was all thanks to you."
Mrs. Francois felt her heart skip a beat. She had anticipated a response from the girls, but what she heard was beyond her expectations. This was... This was... She found herself at a loss for words, unable to believe that her husband had not only not exaggerated Hadrian's abilities but had underestimated them.
This revelation was not good. No one could know. No one could know where the pizza had come from. The secret had to remain closely guarded.
Charlotte looked on in shock.
The ponytailed girl bowed so low that her head was almost touching her knees.
"I owe you my life," she whispered in gratitude.
Beside her, Amelia gave her friend a hug before sharing her story.
"I never thought studying could be so fun," Amelia said, her eyes sparkling with a newfound enthusiasm her mother had never seen before. "I want to study every day. After graduation, I want to become a scientist."
The third girl - the only one who hadn't eaten the pizza - remained silent, still gaping in disbelief. Just when they thought she wouldn't say anything, she spoke up, pointing to the pizza and addressing the question that was probably on some of their minds.
"Is this thing drugged?"
They took the pizza to a lab, one Mrs. Francois knew she could trust and subjected the remaining pizza to various tests. The results were checked over and over again and consistently confirmed that there was nothing in this pizza that shouldn't be there. It was a simple pizza made with readily available ingredients from any supermarket.
Mrs. Francois returned to her husband's apartment in silence, her mind reeling from the day's events. Even now, she still couldn't shake the image of her friend's tearful gratitude and the incredible transformations they had witnessed. There was something extraordinary about Hadrian's abilities, something that could not be explained by cooking alone.
Hadrian was not normal. This was not talent. This was something supernatural.
Chef Francois greeted her at the door.
"So you understand now?" he asked.
Mrs. Francois took a deep breath.
"You are right. He is special."
Just as Francois was about to smile in triumph at her admittance, she continued: "But you don't know just how special. You underestimated him Francois. What he has, it's supernatural."
"Surely you are joking," Francois laughed.
Mrs. Francois shook her head.
"You don't understand, Francois. That pizza today? It not only helped those girls find the joy of learning but also cured a girl's dyslexia."
She clutched his arms, her eyes wide with astonishment. "Do you know what that means? It's not just about food, Francois. This is a medical miracle. What Hadrian can do is not normal. It's not about evoking emotions with food; this is about curing diseases. Do you realize the kind of scrutiny he'll be under when this gets out? This is no longer about the culinary world; this is about the world."
Mrs. Francois took a deep breath. "I need to bring him back with me. My father will know what to do. I can't leave him here. It's too dangerous. You may be a world-famous chef, but you're still just a regular man. My family can provide him with the necessary protection."
Her expression darkened. "I haven't told you this because I thought you didn't need to know, but now it's different. My father has deep connections to the underworld, very powerful connections. He also has numerous powerful individuals under his command, people whose names you only hear on the news. This is our family's secret, and now you know."
Francois was shocked. "You..."
Mrs. Francois continued, "Hadrian, I'm bringing you to Provence. Please gather your belongings."
"But he's my student," Chef Francois stammered.
"No, he's my son now," Mrs. Francois retorted firmly. "I'm going to take care of him from now on, and I'll oversee his development. Don't worry, I haven't forgotten my promise to help him become a world-renowned chef, but it will be under my guidance. His powers are not ordinary. Eliciting emotions with food is one thing, but being able to cure medical conditions is an entirely different level. If he's not strong enough, if he's not in a position of power, he'll be at risk. He could be controlled, enslaved. Is that what you want, Hadrian?"
Next to them, Harry shook his head, overwhelmed and terrified, his small frame trembling.
"Then you will grow. As long as you're in a position of power, no one will be able to touch you, and you can showcase your abilities as you see fit. But before that, you will learn."
Learning, as it turned out, could be frustrating and challenging, but it was ultimately necessary and sometimes even life changing.
Note: Next Chapter we will see Harry and Bruce Wayne's first meeting.
Note: Timeline is a little messed up because I need to make canon events fit my narrative.
Once again, if you enjoy my story please show your support by dropping a review, it will also encourage me to upload faster.
See you next chapter.