Oh, lookie here. Another chapter! How exciting!
And that means you get to sit through a little more of my musings. Doesn't that sound fun?
Okay, in all seriousness, though, I am sorry this chapter is later than the others. It's mostly because I got really really sick for several days and believe me, writing was the absolute last thing on my mind. (When I could actually keep coherent thoughts in my mind. But I digress.) Anyways, all better now, and back to writing amusing stuff. Yay!
Thanks for all of your reviews. They really do inspire me. And I do answer questions.
I did get a comment that Evie and Harry would make a good couple. I just want to say, that is never going to happen. I always feel it's too cliche when an OC and the main character get together. And as funny as that pairing would no doubt end up (I may be persuaded to write a few omakes or something along those lines), Harry and Evie have been raised as cousins, and as cousins they will stay. I'm not even sure I'm going to end up pairing Harry with anyone to be honest, though we'll have to see how the story goes...
On that note, I also got a request from another reviewer saying they wanted more of Harry growing up with the Ghostbusters. I've actually started writing a side story called "The Dad Games", detailing the week-long competition for the title of "Dad". I'm not sure yet if I'll post it as a full story on its own or as an interlude. But as I'm not far into it yet, it's not really an issue. But there you go. I listen to you guys!
So, a note that will probably come up. Harry has a bit of an ego. And he's going to act like it. Usually, with the Ghostbusters, he doesn't, mostly because he doesn't have to. But because he's on his own? He totally will. And he doesn't get the ego thing from just Peter. All the Ghostbusters have them, to an extent. Winston and Ray seem to have egos just slightly larger than normal. Peter's got a massive one everyone notices. Egon got a pretty large one too, it's just less noticeable, because he, unlike Peter can actually back it up. There's one scene in the episode "Janine Melnitz, Ghostbuster" (excellent episode, and the basis for the IDW Get Real comic) where Peter narrowly escapes being shot by a group of Mexican Goblins, leading them into a trap. He comments, "I can't believe that worked," to which Egon responds, "Of course it did. I designed it."
Janine, on the other hand, has like, no self esteem what-so-ever.
I don't know if there's an actual point to this discussion. I just find it interesting.
On to the story!
Chapter 3: In Which Harry Gets Lost and Snape Makes Evie Mad
"Okay, so we've lost Transfiguration, Charms, History of Magic, and Defense," Harry recited, going through the books he and Evie had brought. "You've lost your Potions text, and I've lost my Herbology text, so we'll have to share. And somehow, our astronomy texts have both made it through, which is too bad, as we're not going to be attending that class anyways."
They sat on a pair of the chairs set out, near a large statue of Rowena Ravenclaw. They weren't quite ready to go to bed, despite being tired.
"Correct," Evie frowned. "At least our potions kits have made it through."
"Hm," Harry agreed, non committally. He wasn't a fan of potions, though Evie had a knack for it. It fell into ritual classifications, though, so Ray was still the best.
"You don't have to sound so disappointed," Evie said, arching an eyebrow. "If you don't like the class, don't go."
"What are we supposed to do with all this extra time, though?" Harry asked. "We're going to hardly any of the classes!"
"Well, I'll probably start sitting in on the Ancient Runes and Arithmancy classes," Evie mused. "Runes will probably be too basic, though. I may look into Care of Magical Creatures. Or perhaps Divination."
"Maybe you can teach Papa Peter something," Harry said dryly.
"Oh, I'm not any good at it," Evie said, waving a hand dismissively. "I'm just interested in the theory."
"Then you're screwed," Harry said dryly.
"Not necessarily. I hope to find a diamond in the rough."
"In Magical Britain?" Harry asked, incredulous. "You'd be more likely to find a pile of sh-"
"First years are supposed to be in bed," interrupted a voice behind them.
The two turned to see another prefect (maybe one of the sixth years?) standing with crossed arms behind them.
"Sorry, we're not quite used to the time jump yet," Harry apologized. "It's only six back home."
"You'll not want to be late in the morning, though," the prefect warned.
"Alright," Harry sighed. He picked up Slimer's case (Even if the ghost was tucked away, it still didn't feel right to leave him alone somewhere) and headed for the stairs. "See you in the morning, Evie."
"Good night," Evie agreed, following.
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The next morning, Harry was awoken by his dormmates excitedly chatting about classes.
With a groan, squinting, he checked his watch.
6:23.
Oh, he wanted to hurt someone. But he really shouldn't be going back to bed, and he did have someone he could take his frustrations out on…
Rolling over, he stuck one hand down around the edge of his bed and pulled Slimer's case out. With a yawn, he dragged himself into a sitting position and popped the latches.
Slimer was still sleeping inside, tucked onto a floating pillow with a blanket and what looked like Ray's stuffed Stay Puft marshmallow man. Where exactly he'd gotten them from, Harry didn't want to know.
He carefully poked Slimer through the blanket. "Slimer? Hey, it's morning here."
Slimer gave a moan as he opened his eyes, muttering darkly.
"I know, I know," Harry sighed. "We'll get on the schedule soon, so don't worry. But I need you to do me a favor."
Slimer rose out of the case, tilting his head curiously. "Hawwy need waat?"
"See, I don't know if Evie was able to get up in time. So I need you to go and find her, and… wake her up."
That made Slimer perk up. "Wak Evie?"
"That's right," Harry agreed. "And then get back to your case, so we can get you down to breakfast."
"BWEKFAST! OKAWY!" With that, he shot off, leaving a blob of slime on the curtains as he passed through.
Ooh… The house elves were going to love that.
Yawning again, Harry pulled the curtains aside and climbed from his bed to open up his trunk. Someone had cleaned inside, and while his books were still hopelessly matted together, his clothes and robes were clean.
He had mixed feelings on the robes front.
But, knowing he really should at least make an effort, he grabbed a change of clothes and a robe and headed for the bathroom.
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When he finished getting ready, he headed for the stairs, still carrying Slimer's case, surprised the ghost hadn't returned. Instead, he found him at the bottom of the stairs, floating around Evie, who was wearing robes, had still damp hair, and had an unamused expression on her face.
"Sleep well?" Harry asked innocently.
"Well enough," she said. "It was the waking up I didn't care for."
Harry pressed his lips together, trying not to laugh. "Well, I'm sorry about that."
"Hm." She clearly didn't believe him. "I think Slimer should stay out for the day. Maybe follow us around a bit, to get people used to him."
"No one's ever going to get used to him," Harry shot back.
Slimer blew a raspberry at that. "Not twue!"
"Okay, most people will never get used to him," Harry allowed. "Which is fine, because it means he gets to spend more time with us."
Slimer nodded happily. "Uh huh, uh huh, uh huh!"
"People can get used to a surprising amount of things, if properly introduced and desensitized," Evie argued. She took Slimer's case from Harry and pulled a runestone from her pouch, which now sat in a pocket. "Just look at Aunt Janine." She tapped the stone on the case and smiled with pride as it shrunk down. She shoved it into her pocket, though Harry wasn't sure if it was in the runestone pouch or not. Her runestone was returned, though.
"I'm not sure that's a fair comparison," Harry frowned. "I mean, we both know there's only one reason she put up with everything, and he just moved into her room-"
"Good morning!" Hermione greeted, coming down the stairs behind them.
Slimer made a sound that may have been an attempt at her name, before engulfing her in a cheerful hug and a big kiss that covered the right side of her face in slime.
"Ugh!" she cried, pushing him away.
Evie pulled a towel from her pocket and offered it to the other girl. "That's how he says hello."
"And good bye. And he'll miss you. And he's glad to see you're alive. And-" Harry was cut off when Evie smacked the back of his head. "Ow!"
"You get used to it," Evie said shortly. "And towels really come in handy."
"As do showers," Harry agreed, glancing towards Evie's wet hair.
"Harry, it is taking all of my will power not to strangle you right now," Evie said, voice slightly strained.
"You two act like brother and sister, you know that?" Hermione asked, passing a now slimey towel back to Evie.
"We're aware," Evie said shortly, before turning to the entrance. "Now, breakfast?"
"Let's freak some people out!" Harry cheered, moving for the door. Slimer followed close behind. Because, breakfast!
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Breakfast was… interesting.
Harry had to hide a grin at the stares he knew they were getting. And sure, people would start asking them questions soon, but really, it was so much more fun to just keep them guessing.
So he would be doing that for as long as he could.
Unfortunately, Evie had lent Hermione a book on basic runes, which meant that she was paying no attention to him. And Evie was absorbed in a daemonology textbook for her Miskatonic class. Which left him alone to mind Slimer.
Which, when a table full of food was involved, was much harder than it looked.
"No, stay here. You can't just- no, Slimer. That's not a-"
He ducked as an empty plate went flying over his head to clatter on the ground next to him. "Well, it's probably a good thing you managed to scare all the other folks off," Harry muttered darkly.
"Mister Potter?"
Harry turned at the sound to find a small man (his head of house, right?) standing behind him. "Good morning, Professor," he greeted, completely blanking on the man's name. (1)
"I have your class schedule here," he said, passing a piece of parchment to him. "Would you mind giving a copy to Miss Spengler and Miss Granger, as well? They seem a little distracted."
"Yeah, I can do that," Harry agreed.
"And your… pet?"
Slimer looked up and blew a raspberry.
"Not a pet," Harry said quickly. "Teammate?"
The small professor blinked. "I'm sorry?"
"He doesn't like the term pet, in application with him," Harry whispered. "We're thinking about calling him a familiar."
"It's sentient?" the professor squeaked in surprise. An excited gleam came into his eye. "What exactly is it?"
Harry's mind searched for Evie's classic definition (because it was entirely too funny to not use). "He is a class five full torso roaming vapor."
"Eyeah!" Slimer agreed enthusiastically. "Cwass fwive," (here he devolved into a series of babbles) "-vawpow!"
"Fascinating," the professor murmured. "Say, has anyone done any research-?"
"I'll have to stop you right there, Professor," Harry said quickly, because the last thing they needed was someone carting Slimer off. That would just end up a nasty headache. "Slimer has an exclusive contract, allowing him to only be studied by my fathers and anyone they give specific permission." Utter bullshit. But hey, it would protect Slimer. "However, they have published several papers on the subject, and I'd be happy to get you copies."
"Yes, that would… be much appreciated," the professor agreed. "Well, have a nice day, Harry. Slimer."
"Bwye bwye!" Slimer cheered, waving after him.
He then immediately turned back to the food.
"Slimer, wait, that's not-! At least stay at the damned table! No! Shit!"
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"Harry, we've already been down there."
"Have we?" Harry squinted at the rough map he and Evie were puzzling over. Hermione was in History Of Magic, but he and Evie had decided to give it a pass. For the rest of their lives. (They had glanced through the textbook, and Harry had declared it the most useless, racist drivel he'd ever read. And that was Harry's opinion, not Evie's.)
"Yes, see? Slimer kissed that suit of armor."
Harry looked up, sure enough, at the dark green goo dripping from the armor's face. "That's right. Man, we should have him mark more of them. Leave us a trail."
"That sounds like a terrible idea."
"Why not? It worked for Hansel and Gretel."
"Mostly because you came up with it." Evie snatched the map from him. "This is a mess. We should have gone with my idea."
"What, to use the wards to make a map?" Harry asked. "That's boring. Exploring is so much more fun. Better for the glutes, too."
"Harry, do you realize my rune pouch has several stones that could explode with the force of a small bomb if detonated?" (2)
"Okay, okay, next time we go with your idea," Harry grumbled. He paused. "We're lost, aren't we."
"With your cartography skills? We've been lost for an hour."
"That's harsh," Harry sighed, before casting his eyes skyward. "Where do you think Slimer scampered off to?"
"No idea," Evie said. "Maybe the kitchens."
"Hm."
Both were abruptly distracted when music rang out in the hall. "It's poetry in motion… She turned her tender eyes to me. As deep as any ocean… As sweet as any harmony-" (3)
"You changed my ringtone!" Evie accused, pulling her mobile out of her pocket.
"I admit to nothing," Harry said cheerfully. "But it is appropriate, isn't it?"
With a growl of frustration, Evie answered the phone. "Hello, Evie Spengler speaking."
She smiled at whatever was on the other line, then pulled the phone from her ear. "It's Uncle Egon. They just woke up over there. He wanted to say 'hi'."
Harry grinned. "Tell him I say we miss him."
"Harry misses you," Evie repeated into the phone. "He bawled his eyes out all night, so sad to be away from the fireho-"
She was cut off when Harry lunged for the phone, the two engaging in a brief wrestling match before he was able to yank it away.
"Evie is a liar, Dad!" Harry nearly shouted into the phone. "She doesn't know what she's ta-!"
That was when Evie tried to snatch the phone back and the match continued. Evie got control of the phone again.
"Harry loves you!" she teased. "He loves you sooo mu- agh!"
Harry yanked her back down, finally snatching the phone and jumping to his feet and away from her. "Lies! All vicious lies!"
"Well, if the two of you are done with your fight, perhaps you'd like to hear what I found on the odd residuals Evie was picking up last night?"
"Residuals?" Harry asked, looking down at Evie. "You were picking up odd residuals last night, Spengs?"
"Yes," Evie sighed, climbing to her feet as she wiped her glasses. "It was hard to pin down anything, though. The shades and magic in the school mostly obscured it."
"Huh," Harry said, turning back to the phone. "Okay, Dad. Shoot."
"We've got three separate readings," Egon informed him. "The first looks like a class four poltergeist floating around. It's definitely corporeal, so someone should know something about that. It's been around awhile. The next two actually have the same PK signature, but they're definitely in different locations."
"Two locations, one ghost?" Harry asked, glancing at Evie.
"Not exactly. Two ghosts, one soul, if I'm not mistaken. The PK signature is also identical to the soul piece we took out of your scar when you first came to live with us."
"So, two more horcruxes," Harry realized.
Evie's face twisted in disgust as she heard that. "...Ew."
"Indeed," Egon agreed. "You'll definitely need to contain both of those and send them back to me as soon as you do. With three samples, I should be able to extrapolate the number of horcruxes this wizard made, as well as possibly even make a tracker for them. One that's more reliable than just a PKE meter."
"How can we send that to you?" Harry asked. After all, traps were a bit heavy for an owl.
"Well, we didn't send Slimer along just so we wouldn't have to deal with him." There was a touch of amusement in Egon's voice. "He can move quite fast when he wants to. We still haven't had a chance to clock exactly how fast yet, though."
"We'll have to bribe him with something," Harry sighed. "But I think that'll work."
"Excellent. Be careful. And don't forget to report anything else odd you hear back to us. I don't like the sound of that third floor corridor."
Harry shot a look at Evie. "Exactly how long did you talk to him last night?" he hissed.
Evie just shrugged.
"Yeesh," Harry muttered, before going back to the phone. "Alright, we will. Talk to you soon."
"You as well." A pause. "Harry… I…"
"Love you too, Dad," Harry said with a grin. Egon was still awkward with the softer emotions.
And he wouldn't have it any other way.
Hanging up, Harry passed the phone to Evie.
"So?" Evie asked.
"We've got a class four poltergeist on the loose and a couple of horcruxes around here belonging to the bastard who gave me my scar," Harry reported. "Dad says zap 'em and trap 'em."
"Sounds like a plan," Evie agreed. "Anything else?"
"Yeah, try not to die," Harry said cheerfully. "Seriously, who hides horcruxes in a school?"
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In the end, it was Hermione who came to their rescue. Somehow, their wandering had taken them to the History of Magic classroom, just after it was letting out.
"How was it?" Harry asked as they fell into step with their new friend.
"Rather dull," Hermione admitted. "The teacher is a ghost, who's been teaching the same class for at least a century. He just got up one day to teach and left his body behind."
"That's awful," Evie sighed, waving her meter towards the classroom. "Yes, a class two repeating vapor. Awful thing to happen to a person."
"Well, say the word, and we'll take care of it," Harry said with a grin, waggling his fingers towards her.
Hermione rolled her eyes with a huff. "You can't just go busting ghosts that aren't causing a problem."
"Oh, we know," Harry assured her. "We don't. Usually."
"And when we do, we learn from our mistakes," Evie put in.
Hermione looked pale at that. "What? You're serious?"
"Oh, yeah," Harry said with a grin. "I mean, circumstances change. Slimer used to be a nasty little spud haunting the twelfth floor of a hotel. First call my dads ever got. They wrecked an entire ballroom."
"They cause quite a bit of property damage," Evie admitted.
"They've gotten better," Harry protested. "Anyways, after the containment unit blew, when they faced Gozer, the Traveller-slash-Destructor-"
"A primal god traced back to the Sumerians," Evie whispered to Hermione.
"-Slimer just stuck around the firehouse, and eventually just became part of the team," Harry finished with a shrug. "Of course, that's just the tip of the iceberg. There was the time with the Ghosts of Christmas Past, Present, and Future-"
"You're serious?" Hermione choked.
"Oh, yeah," Harry chuckled. "Nearly destroyed Christmas with that. Papa Egon actually had to travel into the containment unit to get them back." (4)
"That's awful!" Hermione cried.
"Well, they were pretty good about it, all things considered," Harry said with a shrug. "And Papa Ray has pictures of Papa Peter dressed up as the Ghost of Christmas Past."
"I saw those," Evie remembered with a grin. "The wig really suited him."
"I know, right?"
Hermione shook her head. "It almost sounds like half the time they're making it up as they go along."
"They kind of have to," Harry pointed out. "They're the only ghost catching group there is. Sometimes things happen, things that they have no idea how to face, so it's either do their best, or let the world die."
"There's a new apocalyptic event on the horizon at least once a month," Evie added.
"Ghostbusters," Harry said with a grin. "Flying along by the seat of our pants since 1983."
"That's not the motto," Evie sighed.
"It could be."
Hermione shook her head. "You're both terrible! Both of you!"
Harry exchanged a glance with Evie. It was a surprisingly serious one, considering the conversation, one filled with an unspoken question and answer.
"You know," Harry said, slinging an arm over Hermione's shoulders, "we could always use someone like you in on the team."
Hermione blinked at him, uncomprehending.
"I mean," Harry continued, "you need more to a Ghostbusting team than brains and a mouth. And you'd be great, really. Can't offer you an easy day, or anything, but there's fame and fun and travel."
Hermione managed to get enough of her mind back together to ask, "What, no fortune?"
"Ah, not so much," Harry admitted. "Lots of fun, though. I did mention the fun, right?"
Hermione frowned. "...I'll think about it."
Harry shot Evie a thumbs up behind Hermione's back, and mouthed, "She's in."
Evie nodded. "Well, we can't ask for any more than that."
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Potions was actually something both Harry and Evie were looking forward to. Because it was a ritual based magic, it was a little odd that it hadn't been outlawed in Britain along with all the other magicks, but Harry had never been one to look a gift horse in the mouth.
Unless it was from a ghost. Then there was always something attached.
Always.
But potions! Harry had learned a bit from Janine and Ray, as Ray was their ritual expert and knew more about potions than any of the others, and Janine had really enjoyed the subject, despite being about as good at it as she was at cooking.
Which wasn't much, but Harry learned a lot from her about what not to do.
Actually, he learned a great deal from his parents on a number of subjects when it came to things not to do. Hermione would probably be horrified to learn exactly how he'd learned that the seventh cardinal rule of Ghostbusting (Pants are not optional.) was not just up on the wall as a joke. That had… been a scarring experience.
No, seriously, Peter still had the scar.
But regardless of his parents' child rearing capabilities (or lack thereof), potions was a class he was actually looking forward to, because it was interesting. It was challenging. It was maddeningly precise and just a little bit scientific.
And then he entered the dungeon room.
"Anshargal, these people like their ambiance," Harry complained.
Hermione glanced at him in confusion before deciding it was probably better not to ask.
The room was dimly lit, the walls were dirty with obvious age, and even the student benches looked practically ancient.
"I am suddenly torn between being amused or appalled," Evie confided, scanning the room with wide eyes. "There is… I…"
"She's actually speechless," Harry commented with a grin. "That never happens."
The three found places to sit next to each other, and began to take out their things. Harry placed his cauldron in the proper place, and pulled out a notebook and pen to take notes. Next to him, Evie was pulling out several runestones and arranging them in different positions around her space.
"So, why exactly is this room so bad?" Hermione asked curiously.
"A potions lab should be like any other laboratory," Harry explained. "It's sometimes considered a branch of science, and the slightest mistake can cause something to literally go up in flames. Or melt. Or explode. Magic can make things a bit… volatile. But this room has no venting, poor lighting, and just look at how dirty it is!"
"It would see a typical lab condemned," Evie added absently. She carefully shifted one of her stones by a few millimeters. "It's more akin to a meth lab than a proper one."
"Yeah, I hope the teacher is at least decent," Harry said with a sardonic smile. "Otherwise I'm wiping my hands of this class as well."
As he finished the last syllable, the doors to the classroom flew open with a loud bang, and the greasy haired professor they'd met their first night swept in.
"...So far, I'm not optimistic," Harry muttered.
The man stopped at the desk at the front of the room, next to a large blackboard, where he took role call.
And stopped at Harry's name.
"Ah, yes, Mister Potter," he sneered. Harry raised an eyebrow, having never heard quite that much disdain packed into his surname before. "Our new… celebrity."
Harry grinned at that, but didn't say anything.
Tearing his dark eyes from Harry's, he returned to the list of names, shooting only Evie a suspicious glance as well, before finishing and setting down the list.
"You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion-making," he began coolly. "As there is little foolish wand-waving here-" (Here Evie gave a quick fist pump below the table.) "-many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don't expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron, with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses… I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even put a stopper in death-if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually teach."
Okay, this class had potential, Harry could admit that. He was excited. It had been a few months since he'd last done potions with Ray, and usually the potions they focused on were of the exorcism variety…
"Potter!" the man snapped suddenly. "What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"
"Ah…" Harry cast his mind back to a day he had been learning potions with Janine, and she had combined some variant of both (though he couldn't remember just how they were prepared). The resulting fumes had knocked out half a block before someone was able to make it to the lab and dispose of the mess. "Sleeping potion. Powerful sleeping potion."
The professor seemed slightly taken aback by the correct answer, but immediately flung another one. "Where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?"
Ooh! Ray had shown him that one the time they'd gone to visit the farm he'd grown up at. Very enthusiastically.
He'd ended up vomiting and Janine had shouted at Ray for twenty minutes and made him sleep on the couch. (They weren't sure when exactly she'd gained the authority to make them do that, but no one ever argued with her when she was in a mood.)
But hey, it was coming in handy now!
"Stomach of an animal," Harry said cheerfully. "But the ones most commonly used by the magical community of Britain is found in a goat's stomach. It's known to cure most poisons, but not all, and does have to be magically treated first."
(He had not eaten the goat they had for dinner the night after Ray's demonstration.)
The professor's eyes narrowed at the extensive answer. "What is the difference, Potter, between monkshood and wolfsbane?"
Oh, that one he knew. It was important to know all sorts of weaknesses of magical creatures that they may come across, and werewolves were one his fathers had already (unfortunately) faced.
"They're the same plant, sir, usually known as aconite, a highly toxic flowering plant found in many locations, including gardens, around Europe, most notably, Britain. They should be handled with care, as even touch can contract the poison through the skin, though that will usually show up in the form of a bright red rash." (5)
"Arrogant, Potter, aren't you?" the professor asked coldly. "To come in and think you already know everything?"
"Well," Harry said with a lazy grin, "if I thought I knew everything, sir, would I even be here?"
This got a few chuckles from his classmates, but the professor's dark look grew even darker. "Ten points from Ravenclaw, Potter, for cheek." He spun to jab his wand at the board, and instructions wrote themselves out in white chalk. "Instructions are on the board. Begin."
There was a moment of silence. A few students reached for their things, while others prepared to go gather the needed ingredients, but then-
"...Are you serious?" Evie asked.
The man's head snapped to her.
"Just, 'instructions are on the board, begin'?" she demanded. "What the hell kind of teaching style is that? No, 'here's the ingredients', or 'here's how they interact', or anything? Just, do it yourself and sink or swim? This is the best Britain can do?"
She hadn't raised her voice, but it carried, the incredulous tone filling the dungeon room.
"You question my methods, Miss Spengler?" the professor asked quietly, voice dangerous.
"I question, with an attitude like that, whether you should be teaching at all," she said, voice matching his. "I was hoping to learn something, but it's clear you don't teach, you scorn."
"Yeah, this place is a mess," Harry agreed. "Any sanitation department worth their salt would shut this place down in a heartbeat. And that's coming from me. I've spent days wading through sewers in better shape than this place."
And he would really have to revisit this classroom later, when it was empty, to check for anything growing in the corners. Egon would be thrilled to discover a new type of magical mold.
But the professor just sneered. "How typical, Potter. Your ego knows no bounds. You think, because you're famous, you're some kind of god?"
"Is he even paying attention?" Evie asked. But Harry was already answering, never losing his grin.
"Well… yeah."
And that was how Harry first found himself dragged to Dumbledore's office.
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Okay, yes, he could be a brat. He knew that. Absolutely.
The thing was, he hadn't been being a brat.
So it was a little insulting that this ass of a professor had dragged him to the headmaster's office and proceeded to lay into exactly how he had offended the man by merely existing, and how he was an arrogant strutting child, just like his father, for twenty fucking minutes.
"Okay!" Harry finally shouted, getting fed up with it. "First off, I don't strut. Second off, don't compare me to a man I never knew. My dads are in New York, and James Potter died ten years ago, so let it fucking go. And thirdly, I'm not the problem here! Did I mortally offend you by actually knowing potions, or something?"
Dumbledore raised an eyebrow at that. "You know potions, Harry?"
"Don't call me that," Harry snapped instinctively. He didn't like the old man. "And yeah, I learned some potions. Not enough to be an expert, or anything, but enough to know a horrid teacher when I see one."
"I am not-!" the man roared, but Harry cut him off.
"And seriously, I wasn't even the one to call you on it! Evie was! I just backed her up, so why the hell did you drag me up here and not her?"
At that moment, the door exploded off its hinges, blasting across the office. Harry ducked out of the way as it smashed into the desk.
Evie stood framed in the doorway, smoke rising off the runestone in her hand.
"I'm sorry," she said sweetly. "The door was locked. And I'm supposed to stick by Harry, no matter what."
She stepped into the office, her runestone slipping back into her pocket, as she stood behind Harry. "Now, what exactly seems to be the problem?"
"Miss Spengler," Dumbledore said, trying to gain control of the situation. "I'm afraid there's been a misunderstanding."
"Yes, there has been," Evie agreed. "You let this man teach potions. And believe me, I use that term in the very loosest sense of the word."
"Teach, or potions?" Harry asked, sitting back down calmly, as though the door was not now buried in a half disintegrated desk.
Evie thought for a moment. "Both, I suppose."
"Miss Spengler, Severus has been teaching at this school for nearly ten years now," Dumbledore said firmly. "He has my absolute trust."
"I trust Slimer," Evie said. "That doesn't mean I'm going to let him teach nuclear physics. Tell me, Professor Dumbledore, what is the first thing a student should learn when it comes to potions?"
Dumbledore tried to smile. "My dear-"
"Don't patronize me," Evie said, tone suddenly turning to ice. "I have an IQ higher than anyone else in this room, and that's not just me saying things. I, at the age of eleven, know more about runic magicks than you probably ever will. And I possess an excellent understanding of potions. Now, what is the first thing a student should learn in a potions class?"
"I don't-" Dumbledore began, but Evie cut him off again.
"Let me explain," she said suddenly. "I may not like the subject, but I can't deny Professor McGonagall is outstanding at her craft. The first lesson, as it was reported to me, consisted of a demonstration of what was possible in the future, a lecture on theory and dangers of transfiguration gone wrong, and then-and only then-an attempt at an actual spell. Professor Flitwick spent his entire first class on demonstrations of charms gone right, and tales of what could happen if you don't focus.
"Now, potions is a ritual based magick. Don't give me that look, we don't outlaw nearly as much in America as you do here. Ritual magick is one of the most tricky of the magicks, with some of the best rewards but some of the steepest potential consequences. Potions is the same. Very powerful if done right, deadly if gone wrong, and not always just for the brewer. The very first thing any teacher with a first time student should do is begin by explaining basic safety precautions.
"Potions is more than just throwing ingredients together and hoping for the best. A good teacher would explain what ingredients were in the potion, what they are there for, and how they interact. They would explain what doing things incorrectly could lead to. They do not just write instructions on the board and tell a Classroom Full Of Students To GET ON WITH IT!"
By the time she finished, Evie was breathing hard, eyes full of fury. There were few things that could get her truly angry, but an incompetent teacher that could potentially threaten the lives of his students was definitely one of them.
Even Dumbledore was taken aback by her sudden outburst.
"I… I'm not sure what to say, Miss Spengler."
"I will have you know, that regardless of the outcome here, I will be reporting this serious breach in both etiquette and safety to the American Covens," she said, voice slowly returning to its previous pleasant tone. "They… dislike disasters such as this, even if it is in another country."
"Go, Evie," Harry muttered, trying very hard to keep the grin off of his face. It wasn't working.
Dumbledore turned pale at that. "Miss Spengler, I'm sure that's not necessary…"
"We'll see," Evie allowed, finally turning to the potions professor. "Anything to add, Professor Snape?"
Ah, right! That was his name! Harry was so bad with names.
"This… boy," Snape nearly spat, "actually claimed to be a god."
"Well, of course I did," Harry said easily. "It's in the rules."
"The rules?" Dumbledore asked.
"The ten cardinal rules of ghostbusting," Harry explained, leaning back in his chair and swinging his feet up onto the broken desk. "Rule number one: never ghostbust alone. That's why Evie's here. And Slimer, I suppose."
"Rule number two," Evie recited. "Don't cross the streams."
"Rule number three," Harry continued, "Maintain your equipment."
"Rule number four," Evie went on, "Don't forget to empty your traps."
"Rule number five," Harry said, "Slimer is a friend. No matter what Papa Peter's mad about this time."
"Rule number six," Evie added, "We are scientists first."
"Rule number seven," Harry recited, "Pants are not optional. And wasn't that a fun one to find out."
"Rule number eight," Evie cut in, rolling her eyes, "Don't mess with Melnitz."
"She's the secretary, and you don't want to make her angry," Harry explained quickly. "You won't like her when she's angry. Rule number nine: Trust your teammates, and don't betray their trust in you."
"And number ten," Evie said, before they finished together.
"If someone asks if you're a god, YOU SAY 'YES'!"
"You only make that mistake once," Harry added, still grinning. "And if you survive nearly being thrown off a building by a pissed off primal god, you never make it again."
"You don't want to know," Evie advised.
"Oh, we'll be dropping potions, by the way," Harry added. "Just so you know. Papa Ray teaches so much better."
"He is recognized as one of the top potioneers on the east coast," Evie agreed with a shrug.
"Really?" Dumbledore asked, not having known that.
"Oh, yes," Harry said with a grin. He glanced at Snape. "Maybe you've heard of him. Doctor Raymond Stantz?"
Snape choked on air. Stantz was known not just for his potioneering contributions, but also his ritualistic work. It may have been banned in Britain, but that didn't mean Snape hadn't read up on it anyways. He'd always liked the Dark Arts.
"Anyways, we should be getting to Defense," Harry continued, heading for the door. "We still haven't decided if we're dropping that one or not."
As they left, the two professors caught Evie's next words.
"If it's all wand shit, then I'm not going…"
Dumbledore sighed. It was disappointing the girl held such disdain for light magic. Clearly, she was going dark, and so young, too! And dragging Harry along with her, no doubt.
But something would have to be done.
Soon.
HP/RGB
"Evie," Harry said as they reached the bottom of the staircase, "have I ever told you how awesome you are?"
"On several occasions," Evie agreed. "Though you could certainly stand to do it more often."
A/N:
(1) Harry is really bad with names. Really bad. This will be touched upon more later.
(2) Evie will occasionally threaten Harry in the same way Egon threatens Peter. It's really too funny not to do. One of my favorites involves Peter being an ass, and Egon responding: "Peter, do you know how to set your pack on explosive overload?" "...No." "Well, I do." The response is usually Peter backing off very quickly. Egon is very creative when it comes to threats.
(3) Yes, Harry changed Evie's ringtone to "She Blinded Me With Science". That would be out by then. Even if cell phones with changeable ring tones weren't. But hey, like I said, I kind went "screw you" to the time line. Plus, the music was too perfect to not use.
(4) Episode "X-Mas Marks the Spot". I would recommend it, if only for the first look inside the containment unit and Peter in a wig. Of course, I'd recommend "If I Were A Witch Man" for the same reason... (And Egon color codes his makeup. Who knew?)
(5) Wolfsbane is also shown to ward off ghosts in the episode "Til Death Do Us Part". Which I would also recommend, if only because watching Slimer trying to pretend to be a dead Egon is one of the funniest fucking things I've ever seen. Also, the first look at Mrs. Spengler. Who will kick your ass and then offer you a nice cup of tea. (Evie's a lot like her.)
Right, I think that's everything. Please review if you liked! Or if you didn't. I'm okay with constructive criticism. Thanks for reading!