Ch. 50

If his luck held, then perhaps he actually would have a calm year. The host of new professors and electives could actually be enough to hold his attention. Hagrid as the Care of Magical Creatures professor had been a welcome surprise, and the new DADA teacher had the energy of some dark creature, likely a werewolf which was interesting (of course, that could make him the next thing at the school that tries to kill him, but he didn't want to assume anything) and best of all, mama as their new Potions professor. Harry was literally bouncing his seat, having arrived twenty minutes early to his first lecture, books and parchment neatly arranged at his workstation.

The class had been relocated to the first floor, near the greenhouses. It was amazing what a bit of natural light and fresh air could accomplish. The lack of any mold and violent odors was the best news Harry's nose had ever received. Otherwise the room was rather plain, with a few potted herbs hanging in jars by the window and a precarious pile of books at the edge of mama's desk, alongside several mugs of what Harry knew was terribly bitter black coffee. Mama came out of the storage room carrying a box of ribbiting frogs. She was dressed a bit more professionally than usual in pleated trousers, a button-down underneath a sweater with little birds stitched in amongst the argyle and a traditional pointed hat.

"Seriously?" She asked. Harry was the first student there, and the door had been locked. "You'll help me sort through what we need for Pepper-Up, then."

Sirius, in the form of Padfoot, barreled over to greet Harry vigorously.

"Wow, look at my taxpayer dollars at work." Harry laughed while collapsing under the weight of the dog trying his hardest to hug him with all four limbs. "You guys sure did a good job keeping me safe from a violent mass murderer."

"The wards are wards, so basically useless. As long as he stays as the dog, nobody will know." Mama said. Sirius nudged him in a way that said ugh, how annoying but at least I'm a cute dog. "Sirius, let him up. Go grab me the graphorn guts."

The bell rang and the Gryffindor and Slytherin students filed in. Interested murmurs filled the air as they took in the new classroom and professor. Mama's sleeves were rolled to her elbows and showed off her favorite tattoo of a man being burned at the stake. The flames moved around on her forearm and the man's body slowly dissolved into a skeleton as his mouth parted in a silent scream before his flesh reformed in blistering chunks and the cycle repeated. Harry thought it looked cool, but it did seem to curtail her friendly academic look. Standing there with her arms crossed and unnatural eyes peering into the student's souls, she made an intimidating figure.

"Right, shut up," Alabansandria said, and silence fell immediately. Dozens of wide eyes followed her every move. "Set up your cauldrons quietly while I talk. None of this working in pairs nonsense either, each of you will brew your own potion. While I'm talking, do not ask me any questions, you may ask me once we start brewing but not before. I will not take attendance, if you don't want to show up, that's your problem. I won't assign readings, If you are not prepared for class, that's your problem. If you show up and give an honest effort, you will be fine. Now, don't light any fires yet. Today we will be brewing Pepper-Up Potion to see how you perform with something new. Of the ingredients on the board, we can acquire these seven fresh in the greenhouses, which we will do now. I understand Snape did not bother to teach you how to harvest fresh ingredients, which is a travesty and will be rectified. Potions will always be stronger with fresher ingredients. Follow me." She swept out of the room with a trail of flustered ducklings hurrying after her. Harry ran to catch up alongside her.

"Do you like Hogwarts so far, mama? Have you gotten lost yet?"

"Our dog has been helpful in making sure I don't get lost," she said. Sirius bounded up and down the halls in front of them. He was clearly overjoyed to be back at Hogwarts, even if he was trapped as a dog for the whole year. "And Hogwarts is quite spectacular. Lots of deliciously old magic. You should come by for tea after dinner."

"Can my minions come too?"

"It will be a boring conversation, I'm afraid. But they may join us if you'd like."

They entered the greenhouses and Alabasandria turned to face the crowd of students. "First, we will need some Phosphorus Pickle and mint, three sprigs each. Go gather some."

The ingredients were gathered with haste. Back at the potions lab, mama was flabbergasted about their lackluster ability to julienne and shave. She demonstrated each technique and then went around to each station crying on the inside about their ineptitude. She knew that yelling at students like Snape had done was not an effective way to teach them potions (and had in fact, been basically the only rule Dumbledore had given her), so she kept her horror inside and instead semi-patiently demonstrated which side of the knife to use again to a particularly stupid student. Maybe it wouldn't be immoral to poison the bottom 10% of her class. It would be doing society a favor, honestly. The two Slytherins in the back row had almost lit themselves on fire (somehow, because their cauldron wasn't even lit?) and they would certainly not be missed. If she turned them into inferi, would their parents even notice? She didn't think the two knew how to read. Dumbledore had not said she couldn't kill any kids.

"Alright, the last ingredient we need to prepare is the eye of newt. I shall show you the best way to filet a frog. We need their eyes but I'll show you how to extract the liver and kidney as well." As the box of frogs was passed around, the faces of the children got paler and paler. "Now," she continued, brandishing her knife, "best to do it quick so they don't hop away. And mind your fingers. Follow the ridge between their eyes and go right down the middle about halfway." Her knife slammed through the frog into the table and with a quick snap of her wrist, the frog was bisected. One of the students squeaked in shock. "Now the eyes are pretty self-explanatory. I like to use the edge of my knife, or you could get a spoon, and just pop them out. Make sure you don't stab into the eye itself, the fluids are the magical bit, we need those." She held one of them up for the class to see, but most of them were looking away. Their still-living frogs ribbited away through the thick silence.

"Oh come now children, don't be cowards. Start stabbing." She cajoled. Harry, her sweet boy, went straight to work as he'd been doing this since he was six. One of the boys in the back started to sniffle, his chubby face screwed in a picture of horror. "Is it that bad?" She asked, taking in their looks. "Have none of you killed anything before? You there -" she pointed to the crying boy. "What's your moral quandary then?"

"I - I have a pet t-toad, I - I can't kill one." He mumbled out between tears.

"Well it's not your pet toad, is it? I got them from Diagon, they've been bred for this. Lived in a little box in the back of the shop until now. I don't even think they have feelings." She picked one of them up by the leg and it dangled without a care in her grip, just ribbeting and vibing, nothing at all happening in its brain. Just like most of her students. When that failed to encourage them, she floundered for a moment. But she had one foolproof way to deal with children.

"Alright, how about this: Behave and murder your frogs, and next class, I'll bring you all a treat. And we'll make Pepper-Up with dehydrated ingredients so you can see how superior this method is."

"I vote for pizza," Harry yelled.

"I'd murder a frog for pizza," another student murmured. There was some chatter as they contemplated the enticing proposal.

"What in Merlin's balls is pizza?" A blonde boy asked.

As previously stated (and of course, is universally acknowledged as absolute fact) Alabasandria was great with children, and so this bribery eventually worked, and most of the students diligently stabbed their frogs and got started on the actual brewing section. Crying toad boy would not budge, however.

"Look, if you're using the dehydrated eye of newt, it still comes from a dead frog. Someone stabbed it." She tried to reason.

"I d-don't want to be the one to h-hurt it," he sniffed.

"Fine," she relented. "Not all children are cut out for killing, I suppose. You may use someone else's spare frog eye for today's lesson. But next class you won't get any pizza." She turned to face the rest of the class and projected her voice for them to hear. "There is a book that should be in the library called The Art of Vegan Potioncraft. If you protest the use of animal products, you may read it and I will test you on it, and if you understand it, you may utilize those techniques in class. You will not get to cherry-pick. If you don't want to gather fresh eye of newt, you won't get access to the graphorn guts or the fish eggs or the raven feathers either. Often this will make the potions much more difficult to complete and will be less stable. If you cannot handle it, you will return to using the traditional recipes, is that clear?"

Crying frog boy nodded frantically and a couple of students made interested noises and jotted the name of the book down.

"Why did you only mention that after we already did it?" One of the students asked.

"Because component substitution is not traditionally covered until after your OWLs. Most of you would have agreed out of cowardice and then failed and we would be right back where we started. It was best you got it over with. If this is something you are truly against, then you need to be willing to put the extra effort in."

....

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