Harriet Potter, I’m not your Uncle Sam

Walking back up to the headmaster’s office was really stressful. Not because of Dumbles, but due to how often I have been dragged to the principal's office. Clearly my nerves were showing, judging by the shift of his beard around the corners of his mouth. Honestly, it was probably funny to anyone aside from me, but still.

“So Mr. Brown-”

“Sam, just call me Sam, or Sammy, or Samuel, hell i’d even respond to Samantha.” I responded by gesturing with my hands without care.

“Sam then. How did you come up with the idea of using a cardboard box when sneaking up into Hogwarts?”

“Two things, one OPSEC. This is the worst place to talk about such a security risk you never know if the walls have ears. Two, I wasn’t intending to get to a dorm room, I just fell asleep at some point.”

“Surprisingly mature for one of your age, and flexible with your vernacular.”

“Time and place Dumbledore, maturity may have something to do with it but this is also not the place for that conversation either. Now for my question, are you usually involved with surprise students?”

“I will admit, it is not a common thing for myself. But with how you managed to rile up McGonagall and how nostalgic it will be for me to escort a new student.” He trailed off, his eyes looking reminiscent. 

“You missed this, haven't you?” I spoke, the question hung in the air, belaying its nature as a statement. A nod was the only answer I got back from the old man. The minutes passed till we reached a gargoyle. 

“Haw Flakes.” 

“Hawaiian candy, really? I thought the English were notorious for only eating Indian and English food and candy.”

“I have a fondness for sweets. Last winter I visited Hawaii to meet a shaman I met in the 40s and observed the memorial in Wai Momi.”

“Never heard of Wai Momi-”

“The Arizona memorial.”

“Oh.” I cringed at that, it must have been the traditional name. That is not a place to be making jokes, especially as it was probably near the anniversary of her sinking.

“Well that certainly took the wind out of your sails. Now I believe I have two questions I can ask you. First up is, what is your intention with Miss Potter?”

“Who?”

“I believe you prefer her middle name, Cosmos.”

“Oh the Gnosis killer.”

“What?”

“Mundane thing. As for my intentions, I witnessed a giant appearing dropping Cosmos off and disappearing without a trace. So I was curious and figured why not and followed along with her questions. Still pissed about the name, I mean it's not even half way down. A Kindergartner has better naming than the moron in charge of 9 and ¾. Anyway, what were we talking about?”

“Cosmos.”

“Ahh yes, nothing. I literally knew her for about a day and imagined her as a kicked puppy. So I decided to try and brighten her day at least, and treat her like a decent human.”

“I see, and how did you end up in a police station?”

“Long or short answer?”

“Short, time and place as you put it, and we don’t have time for the long answer.”

“Fair, I woke up in an alley behind a pub and had nowhere else to sleep for the night.”

“Ahh, that explains it. Now Sam, see the fireplace?”

“Yup… why?”

“There is a ceramic jar next to it full of powder, it is called Floo powder. Take a pinch and toss it in the fire and say Diagon Ally loud and clear. Mispronounce it and you might end up in Dragon Ally in Wales.”

“Um, two questions one, is Floo powder made of sick children's bones. Two, is it connected to Bourbon Street?”

“No, and no, the shopping district in Louisiana runs off of Bourbon Street.”

“Darn.”

“If you were curious, the destination is the House of Voodoo, one of the few places where the Magical and Muggle meet in true harmony. That and it has an International flu connecting to it. Ask me again for your Winter Break. Feel free to invite Cosmos, she would love a trip to the States and away from her relatives.”

“Oh, neat.” I said as I took a pinch of the black powder, “You said Diagonally right?”

“No Diagon Ally, two words.”

“Diagon… Ally.” I said throwing the powder in the fire, and stepping through with trepidation. Panicking when the fires consumed me and sent me falling through the world, at least that's how it felt. Exiting in an unfamiliar tavern at high speed crashing through a table before coming to a resting stop just in front of the bar.

“Repairo. Have a good fall kid?” came the question from a disfigured man behind the bar.

“Honestly, it was 5 seconds of pants shitting terror finalized by a bruise on my spine.” 

“That Mr. Brown has to be a new record for distance traveled from the Flu. 2 meters, most don’t end up being chucked out past half a meter.” Dumbledore spoke as he exited the fireplace just as the barkeep was about to say something.

“Why do I have a feeling that the record will be broken in a year's time?” I asked rhetorically. 

“No record goes unchallenged for long, good or bad. Now shall we go, we still have some shopping to do.” 

“Bit late for school shopping don’t you think Dumbledore?”

“A bit of unusual circumstances Tom, Mr. Brown arrived a bit late and had no time for shopping.”

“Ah then take your time.” the barkeep, Tom responded as I stood up.dusting myself off.

“So where to Gwydion?” I asked the wizened wizard. He said nothing but gave me an amused smirk before walking through a tucked in corridor. Stopping at the only brick wall in the pub and tapping it with his stick. The bricks fell away to reveal a sight.

“Welcome to Diagon Alley Samuel Brown.” Dumbledore spoke in his best showman voice. My only response was one of sheer confusion.

“This is a complete OSHA hazard. Oh God if there was ever a proof that magic exists this is it. I mean that building has enough unsupported weight leaning forward that it should have tipped over.” I said expressing my disbelief and disgust at Diagon Alley, missing the wonder in exchange for the mind numbing stupidity of their architecture. The dirty looks I got was nothing compared to Dumbledore's laughter at my disbelief.

“Apologies, I didn't mean to laugh at you. Merely your reaction is the most refreshing I have had in Decades.” Dumbledore spoke after reigning himself in. “Now, let's go and get your books.”

I followed in a bit of a daze, my shock at the sheer inconsistency of the architecture being too overstimulating that the books and suitcase were blurs. I also picked out a satchel that I think Dumbldore paid for in exchange for something. Eventually we came across a quaint little building called Olivanders. Stepping inside I found something that was bigger than most public libraries stacked high with wooden boxes.

“I, what, huh. How does this work? Its a fucking mall on the inside.” 

“Well, this is a surprise. I presume Professor Dumbledore that this would be a last minute addition to Hogwarts? May I have your name, young one?”

“No, you may not have my name. But you may refer to me as Sam, Sam Brown.”

“Why do you keep saying that every time someone asks for your name?” Dumbledore asked me with confusion.

“Because unless I am in debt then I want to keep my name safe from the denizens of the Elfriche.”

“A good choice young man, but it would be best if you never give your name period. That and never draw their attention, they are not easy to deal with lest you wish to use some wrought Iron.”

“Pass, so what's in the boxes?”

“Wands young man, future partners to future witches and wizards.” As he said that, several of the boxes seemed to rattle, or shudder. Noticing this the creepy old man climbed up on a ladder that was not there a second ago. Grabbing one of the boxes he pulled it down and opened it in front of me. Only for the wand to have a rapid unscheduled disassembly.

“The fuck!” I yelled in surprise as a small wooden shard was lodged in my arm. Soon the ashes reformed into a new feather sitting pretty in the box.

“Clearly the Phoenix feather does not agree with you.” Pulling out one that is closer to me, “How about this one, Yew with a Unicorn hair.”

Reaching in, I pulled out a Yew stick that shot out confetti with a party horn. The connection was also cold, like I walked into someone's apartment and they answered with a shotgun. With a small rush I shoved the stick back in the box as fast as I could.”

“Clearly that is not the right wand. Unicorns do not readily agree with you.”

“No shit, I swear if that stick was in my hand for a bit longer than it was, it would have tried to kill me.”

“Well if a phoenix and a unicorn don’t agree, your blood is playing a bigger part than I thought. Ah here we go, Oak and Dragon Heartstring.” He said as he placed a new box in front of me. The stick felt more inviting but not quite right. “No no no. Dragon cores work, but the wood is not quite right. Let me think, Yew agreed with you and your old soul. Here we go.” Olivander thought out loud for Dumbledore and I to hear. Placing a box in front of me I saw a foot long yew stick.

“This one is not going to try and kill me, right?”

“No, I think this is the one.” Oli gestured to me to pick it up. Doing so I heard a dragon's roar and the heat of the water heater that killed me, a thumping emanating from the wand, like a heartbeat. Excited clapping broke my train of thought as I looked up to the creepy old man. 

“What?”

“Oh this is the first time I have seen this reaction. I can’t wait to see what you do with yourself, oh and when you meet Vivi tell her I gave you your first tool.” Ollivander spoke excitedly as he disappeared deep in the shop.

“Who the fuck is Vivi?” I shouted to his back only to get no answer. “Umm, so what do we have left Merlin?”

“Well, we have pet shopping and cauldrons on the way back.” 

“So what first?”

“Let's see what pet you might get.” Dumbledore said as he led me to a place called Magical Menagerie. Inside were a lot of owls, cats, and toads. There were a couple of exotic pets but none that caught my eye. Well aside from the Komodo Dragon in the back, that one was locked in a solid glass cage with runes etched into the glass.

“So what's with the owls?”

“They are our primary messenger birds.”

“That is animal abuse. Slowest birds in the Raptor family and you use them as messenger birds. I am disappointed in ya’ll, what's wrong with a falcon or a hawk. Hell an Albatros has the best endurance while a Harpy Eagle can carry up to 40 pounds.”

“Sadly tradition dictates we use owls.” 

“That's stupid,” I say as I leave the store, not bothering to negotiate for anything inside. Soon we started looking at cauldrons, and let me tell you. I very quickly negotiated out of a lead lined cauldron as I do not want the lead contamination. A cast iron worked better, as it could be used for cooking and potions. Well one for potions and another for food. 

Soon we entered the dingy pup run by Bob I think. It’s been a hot minute and I don’t quite remember his name other than it being simple. Going back through the flu was another experience that led to me tripping on a fresh log placed in the fireplace by a small brownie that popped out when it saw me. Dumbledore followed shortly afterwards with a smirk on his lips.

“Well I believe that we had a successful excursion. Now if you don’t mind, you missed your first two classes. Now I believe that it would be Potions with Professor Snape. Here is a map that will get you to the dungeons in time. Don’t worry about being late, I already informed your teachers about the trip.”

Following the map I managed to make it into the dungeons and the potions lab in time for roll call. Or well the end of roll call as he just finished with Cosmos. Looking up at me he seemed to have half a mind on tearing me apart and grudging respect.

“Ahh, Mr. Brown. Our last minute addition to Hogwarts. Fortunately for you, the headmaster has already informed me that you might be late, or I would have taken 30 points from Gryffindor. Now have a seat. Miss Potter, what would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?”

“I am unsure sir I have not had ample opportunity to read my potions book.”

“I see. Weasley! where would I find a bezoar?”

“Wot, what does a bezel have to do with potions?”

“Depends on if you were asking about the mundane medical definition or the Islamic definition. Derived from the Persian word badzehr or panzehr it was typically believed that the stone found in the stomach of a goat could cure you of most afflictions. In modern science the term Bezoar is used as a term for indigestible items inserted into the digestive tract such as medicines.” I answered as an afterthought mostly for the teach but also to correct the redhead who was looking lost.

“I see, 2 points to Gryffindor for a comprehensive knowledge on the word and origin of a Bezoar. 5 points from Gryffindor Mr. Weasley for not reading ahead. Now Mr. Brown, what is the difference between Monkshood and Aconite.”

“That is just two words for the same plant. A deadly flower that grows in mountainous regions of the Northern Hemisphere. Also called wolfsbane, leopard's bane, devil's helmet, or blue rocket. It contains a neurotoxin that as little as 2 mg of aconite or 1 g of plant may cause death from respiratory paralysis or heart failure.” I answered, trying to remember as much as I could. Unfortunately aside from the names and morbid facts, I was drawing a blank.

“And how have you come across such information?”

“I was bored and looked through a book about deadly plants.” I responded with a shrug.

“I see, 5 points to Gryffindor for understanding the dangers of the plant. Now for everyone's knowledge a mixture of powdered root of asphodel and wormwood, would make a sleeping potion so potent that it is referred to as the Draught of the Living Dead. A bezoar as Mr. Brown has pointed out that it is taken from the stomach of a goat and will save you from most toxins. Finally I hope the class was paying attention to Brown’s response as I will not be repeating that.” Snape said as he turned around and used his wand to send a piece of chalk flying across the board jotting down instructions.

“Today we will be making a simple cure boils potion. You have half an hour, get started.” Snape spoke as he looked over the class, sending many scrambling. Me, I was already standing and grabbed some ingredients needed along with two knives and cutting boards. Finding a lone Gryffindor I approached her.

“Yo, do you have a partner?”

“Not really, why are you looking for one?” the girl responded rhetorically.

“No, I just wanted to make sure no one was alone. Sam, Sam Brown.”

“Lavender Brown. Think we might be cousins?” 

“Doubt it, I am from the states. Less you have highwaymen in your family from the 1600s and escaped to the New World. We are not related.”

“Fair enough, so do you mind preparing ingredients while I make the potion?”

“Sure, but we are not using the Pewter, I have a cast iron for a reason.” I say placing the iron cauldron on the burner.

“Why?”

“Pewter contains silver and lead. Silver despite being a minor part of Pewter alloys can burn at high temperatures when exposed to acids, either burning a hole clean through or simply allowing the lead to enter the potion. 35 grams of which is fatal for children our age, and around 100 grams for an adult like Professor Snape. Not something I am willing to risk for anyone; the way I rule it, if I won’t drink it I would not give it to someone else to drink.” I say as I start preparing the ingredients, using the knife skills my dad taught me despite how dull the blade is. 

“What seems to be the problem Mr. Brown?” Snape asked me, while letting me know in a roundabout way that I need to work on my poker face.

“Just how dull the knife is. It’s serviceable, but I would recommend sharpening it for more control and ease of use.” I respond looking up and seeing Maleficent nearly cutting himself with his knife. “But looking at some of the other kids, I can understand the dull knives somewhat. But a sharp knife makes a cleaner cut and is easier to heal and leads to less scarring.”

“I will ask Pomfree if that statement is true. If so then I will have the first year's knives sharpened.” Snape said as he walked away.

“I thought we were dead.” Lavender spoke with a whisper.

“Why? He had a question as to why I was having a bit of a problem. I answered it, simple as that.”

“Snape hates Gryffindors.”

“No, I get the feeling he doesn’t like kids or teaching the basics. You find that when you are doing a trade for several years, or decades the basics are so ingrained that you don’t think about them. Knife safety and handling has been drilled in my mind from a young age, so much so I hardly think about it.”

“Then how come he keeps picking on us Gryffindors?” Lavender responded with a growl.

“This is very much a class based society right? Nobility and all that jazz?”

“Yes,”

“Then he can’t berate them in public like this. Chances are he will be taking them to his office at the end of the day and berating them there. The Slytherins seem to be full of Nobility types, and Nobility types are notoriously petty and will lash out at the slightest smirch on their honor, personal or family.”

“Oh. I never thought about that.”

“That is because you are used to the preconceived notions. I have a fresh mind and a complete outlier for all of this. Anyway, I am done preparing the ingredients, is the cauldron ready?”

“What, how?”

“It's been five minutes and you have yet to light the burner or get water for the cauldron?” I grumble out as I pour water in the cauldron. Finishing with a snap of my fingers a small flame flickered on my pointer finger. “Don’t do this, its dumb and it's the only source of fire I can make.” I say as I light the gas pulling my finger back as the gas ignites.

“10 points from Gryffindor for unsafe practices and using untested spells in class.” Snape called out from across the class.

“Professor, I have no other means of lighting the burner.” 

“You don’t have a flint and steel?”

“No sir, the rack was fresh out.”

“Then you could have requested me to light it for you.” 

“Aye sir, I will remember for next time.” I respond as Snape looks back down and whispers to Mort.

“Have you lost your mind?” Lavender asked when the confrontation from across the class finished.

“No, I just wanted to get the assignment done.”

“I had a flint and steel.”

“Well fuck me sideways and call me Sally.” I respond by starting the potion while Lavender somewhat loses her mind. Eventually she calmed down enough to help me with the potion mostly by crossing out what we have done, or well what I have done. Still we get the potion done with time to spare. Bottling up the potion and filling out Lavender and my name on the vial. 

“Thank you Brown, for your homework I want 3 inches on the applications and ingredients of the cure boils potion.” Snape said as he picked up our vial and pocketed it.

“Understood; question, where are the cleaning supplies for the cauldrons?”

“Accio, cleaning supplies. Here they are.” Snape said as he placed the supplies on the table. 

“Thank you professor.” I respond as I get started cleaning up the cast iron, careful to avoid the soap as it will do more to ruin the cauldron than anything else. Finishing the cleaning a minute before dismissal.