Chapter 2
The Third McSibling
Sarah woke up early that morning, feeling refreshed and energized. She and Amanda had been assigned to the girls' dormitory, along with a few fourth-year students, including Hermione Granger. The girls had stayed up late into the night, bonding with their new older friends, discussing American and British boys. Amanda, in particular, couldn't stop gushing about Viktor Krum, finding him "mysterious" and "handsome."
After a quick shower, Sarah dressed in her uniform and headed into the great hall with a few books and her backpack in tow. She had already chosen her subjects, carefully selecting those that would help her pursue her dream of becoming a healer.
Taking her place at the Gryffindor table next to Dennis and Amanda, she noticed them reviewing something.
"I thought this year was supposed to be an adventure!" Dennis groaned as he went over the lesson plan.
"What's this?" Sarah asked, examining a timetable. She couldn't help but bite her cheek in realization that her early wake-up might not have been early enough.
"Ms. Lincolns, you are late." Professor McGonagall stated sternly, catching Sarah's attention. Sarah turned around, her grandmother Margery Lincoln's favorite topic—Minerva McGonagall—was giving her a stern look.
"Uh…yes, I'm very sorry, Professor. I suppose I'm still operating on American time." Sarah replied, attempting a joke that didn't quite land. She realized that if Minerva was anything like her sisters, her excuses might not work.
"Tardiness does not befit someone with ambitions as high as yours, Ms. Lincolns. Now, if I recall correctly, your first class today is Advanced Potions. After that, please come see me in my office, and I will provide you with your schedule." Minerva stated curtly. Sarah nodded apologetically.
"Of course, except...uh...I don't know where your office or the Potions class is." Sarah admitted, stopping Minerva in her tracks.
Minerva turned to look at her for a moment, then smiled. She picked up a banana from the table and transfigured it into a scroll. Sarah chuckled oddly, she missed seeing transfiguration being used like that...so easily. A trait she associated closely, to another she was extremely fond of.
"Here you go, this should help." Minerva said, handing the scroll to Sarah. Sarah unrolled it to find a map of the castle.
"Thank you!" Sarah said, offering a grateful smile to her great-aunt. Minerva nodded and returned to her seat at the head table, greeting students as she passed.
After breakfast, Sarah navigated her way to the dungeons and arrived at the Potions laboratory just in the nick of time. As she took her seat at a table, she noticed the presence of Harry Potter and Neville Longbottom. For a moment, panic gripped her, and she worried that she had walked into the wrong classroom. However, the Potion's Master was present, and the class fell into complete silence.
"In this potions class, you will not find any unqualified NEWT students. For all new seventh years joining this class for the first time, there are rules here that I expect you to follow. I don't know what you may have been taught in your various schools, but in my class, there will be no foolish wand-waving or incantations. You will work on the potions that I assign, not concoctions that waste valuable ingredients!" Sneered the Potion's Master.
His voice flowed smoothly, resonating with a baritone that Sarah had never encountered before. She found herself utterly captivated by his words. His voice commanded respect, and it was clear that he was not someone to be trifled with.
A hand shot up in the air. It was Dennis, of course. All the Hogwarts students in the class regarded him with a mixture of surprise and worry. Sarah exchanged a knowing look with Amanda. Dennis certainly had a knack for reading the room, she thought sarcastically.
"Yes...?" The professor drawled, seemingly prepared for what he might consider "American idiocy."
"What's your name, prof? This is our first class. Also, if this is an advanced potions class, why are there fourth years?" Dennis asked, wearing a grin that made it seem like he was trying to befriend the professor. Sarah couldn't help but shake her head; Dennis had a lot to learn about discretion, especially when dealing with someone as reputedly fearsome as this Potions Master.
Sarah sent a worried glance in Dennis's direction, silently urging him to be more cautious before he got their entire AIMS class thrown out. Dennis, however, seemed unfazed by her concern and merely shrugged.
"Mr.?"
"Spector."
"Mr. Spector, my name would be irrelevant to you if I were to remove you and your schoolmates from my class right now." The professor retorted sharply.
He then addressed Dennis's second question.
"As for your second question, next year, you will progress to internships and courses that offer more practical experience. You have been paired with the fourth years as a lesson in working with other 'special cases,' which you will encounter frequently. Considering your evident lack of qualification to be in this class, if you wish to continue here—and for the sake of your schoolmates—I suggest that you refrain from interrupting me again."
As the professor silenced Dennis with a few pointed words, Sarah watched as the chalkboard behind him magically wrote down information in beautiful, flowing cursive.
Advanced Potions—Seventh Years
Taught By: Professor Severus Snape Potions Master, Rank 1, St. Mungo's Hospital of Magical Maladies and The International Magical Medicine Council (IMMC)
The magical chalk also displayed two recipes.
"The task for today is simple, for those with a modicum of intelligence." The professor continued.
"Seventh years will be brewing invisibility potions, while the fourth years will work on Wiggenweld potions. However, Wiggenweld is not an easy potion to master, which is why the seventh years, in addition to brewing their own potions, will supervise the fourth years. Any questions? No? How surprising! You can see the recipes on the board. You have one hour; you may begin."
With that, he took a seat at his desk, and students scrambled to gather their ingredients and get started.
Sarah retrieved a toolbox from her bag that contained her ingredients, neatly organized and labeled according to potion requirements. She had an advantage thanks to her mother, who owned an apothecary and had instilled in her the importance of proper preparation.
She meticulously set up her station with the required ingredients and copied the recipe from the board, ensuring she wouldn't need to divert her attention from her cauldron. This was a tip she had learned from Athena, who, despite being the headmistress, still found time to teach students valuable tricks and techniques.
Sarah began by thoroughly cleaning her cauldron and then followed the recipe to the letter. She noticed the professor making his rounds and quickened her pace.
"Sarah...?" Harry called out with a hint of distress. Sarah had almost forgotten her role as a supervisor for these two boys.
"I'll be with you in just a moment!" She assured him while finely chopping a root to add to her potion. She needed to catch up quickly.
"Wow! You're really good at this!" Neville exclaimed, impressed by her skills, as he prepared his own ingredients. Sarah smiled at him and made her way to the other side of the station.
"What in the...! Guys, these aren't the steps for Wiggenweld. It's supposed to be green, why is yours...purple?!"
"Potter! Longbottom!" Professor Snape's snarl cut through the confusion. All three of them jumped in surprise and turned to face him.
"I should have known, as usual, you two have failed to produce even a half-decent concoction. You'll need to start over..." Snape said, his irritation evident. They ground their teeth in silence. Snape then turned his attention to Sarah.
"And you...you do realize this is an advanced potions class?" Snape snapped at her, his tone sharp.
"Yes, sir..." She replied stiffly. She couldn't help but wonder why he was being so harsh.
"Do you understand what 'advanced' means?"
"Yes, sir."
"Then why haven't you added the Troll Bogeys?" He demanded.
Sarah furrowed her brow. She rushed back to her station, closed her eyes, and cursed her luck. She had run out of Troll Bogeys. The gift she had received from her aunt for her 17th birthday had been taken away by her mother to sell in the store. Troll bogeys were a rare and expensive ingredient that was notoriously difficult to source. Sarah couldn't help but think about her strained relationship with her aunt, and now she was paying the price for it.
"What is your name?" Snape barked.
"Sarah...Sarah Lincolns..."
"Well, Ms. Lincolns, it seems that you, too, have failed..."
"Professor Snape!" Another seventh-year student from across the room interrupted.
"What is it, Mr. Shorthorn?"
"Sir, I have some extra Troll Bogeys that she can borrow..." He offered, walking over from his station to Sarah's and placing a piece near her cauldron. He gave her a friendly smile before returning to his own perfectly prepared potion.
Snape regarded the young man with disdain, but the student seemed unfazed by it, returning to his parchment with a smile.
The professor rolled his eyes and turned his attention back to Sarah.
"If you wish to remain in my class, I will not tolerate carelessness. Be more vigilant with your ingredient list next time, or I will fail you, just as I have now." he warned before walking away.
"But, sir..." Sarah began to protest.
"You were not only supposed to brew an invisibility potion, Ms. Lincolns, but you were also tasked with supervising these two completely incompetent dunderheads. You have failed at both." Snape cut her off.
Sarah had a sharp retort on the tip of her tongue but managed to restrain herself. He was right; she had indeed failed. However, she wasn't one to back down quietly.
"I'll make sure to complete both tasks, sir. You mentioned we have an hour, and there's still plenty of time..." She replied. Snape looked at her, rolling his eyes.
"For someone who is supposedly competent." He snarked. Sarah returned his gaze with a determined one; she was ready to prove herself.
By the end of the class, she had bottled her invisibility potion and successfully supervised Harry and Neville in brewing a decent Wiggenweld potion.
She stood in line to submit both vials to the professor. He looked up at her.
"I've re-attempted the assignment, sir. I hope you'll reconsider." She said, placing the vials on his desk. Snape picked them up, examined them, and then looked back at her. She watched him anxiously, biting her lower lip in anticipation.
"It should suffice for an 'A'." He grumbled.
Sarah nodded, relieved, and quickly gathered her belongings, hoping he wouldn't change his mind. She noticed the student who had offered her troll bogeys looking at her. She smiled and mouthed a small "thank you" to him, and he beamed back, nodding appreciatively.
Sarah examined the map Minerva had conjured and charted her course towards the office. She couldn't help but notice the young man from her potions class following her. She offered a warm smile and waited for him to catch up.
"Are you headed to Transfiguration? I'm heading there as well." He asked cheerfully.
"Actually, I need to collect my schedule from Professor McGonagall, so just to her office. I haven't chosen Transfiguration as one of my subjects. Doesn't really align with my healing ambitions, you see. I do have a knack for it, but Potions is more relevant for my goals..." Sarah explained.
"Oh, I absolutely adore Transfiguration, especially the way Professor McGonagall teaches it. She's fantastic!" He replied enthusiastically.
"I've heard she's quite remarkable." Sarah responded with a smile.
"I'm Zeus Shorthorn, by the way." He introduced himself, extending his hand.
"Nice to meet you, Zeus. I'm Sarah Lincolns." She replied, shaking his hand.
"Thank you for your help back there, by the way." She added.
"No worries. I noticed your well-organized toolbox and figured you just ran out of that ingredient." Zeus said with a grin.
"Yeah, that box is a result of my mom owning the apothecary down on Witch Burn Street."
"That sounds amazing. I've always dreamed of owning an apothecary someday."
"You're really that passionate about Potions?"
"Yes, I find the subtle art of potion-making to be my forte..." He said, even mimicking Professor Snape's manner of speaking, which made Sarah burst into laughter.
As they entered the Transfiguration classroom, they continued their conversation about their future ambitions. Sarah learned that Zeus also aspired to be a healer but with a specialization in potions.
"Well, here's my stop. Oh, by the way, I'm also the Head Boy, so if you ever need anything, feel free to reach out." Zeus mentioned, pointing to his badge.
"Thanks, Zeus. You've been very kind." Sarah replied charmingly. She felt his eyes follow her as she knocked on Professor McGonagall's office door.
"Enter."
She stepped inside, closing the door behind her. The office exuded warmth, adorned in Gryffindor colors and offering a view of the school grounds. Bookshelves lined one wall, and a glass cabinet held a prominent Quidditch trophy. Sarah smiled awkwardly as she waited for Professor McGonagall to finish writing a letter.
"Hello, Sarah. Do have a seat." Professor McGonagall said without looking up. Sarah nodded and took a seat in the armchair opposite her.
"In fact, I'm just finishing a letter to your grandmother." Professor McGonagall continued, signing the parchment.
"Oh, my grandmother mentioned she writes to you frequently." Sarah said, smiling.
"Yes, nearly every two weeks. It's our only real way of staying in touch."
"You could also visit us in Boston sometime." Sarah suggested casually.
"I wish I could, my dear, but Hogwarts keeps me quite occupied." Professor McGonagall explained.
Sarah nodded understandingly. Professor McGonagall handed her the schedule she had come for.
"How was your Potions class?" Professor McGonagall inquired as Sarah stowed the scroll in her bag.
Sarah looked at her with a hint of apprehension. Since she was family, Sarah believed Minerva would prefer the truth if she asked. However, she decided to present it in the most diplomatic way, omitting any hint of her initial dislike for the professor.
"Professor Snape...well, he's...uh...an interesting..." Sarah hesitated.
"Professor Snape holds an esteemed position as a potions master. However, what Severus makes up in skill...he may sometimes lack in tact." Minerva replied with an amused expression. Sarah smiled, relieved that Minerva had understood her intention.
"That's one way to put it..." Sarah snorting.
"Don't worry, I'm sure he'll warm up to you. He tends to be partial toward seventh years." Professor McGonagall reassured her.
"He threatened to remove AIMS from his class..." Sarah chuckled.
"But I do hope you're right. He has a lot of knowledge that I'm eager to learn from..." Sarah added as she rose from her seat.
"Sarah..." Professor McGonagall called before Sarah could exit the office.
"If you need anything, or if Athena is occupied, please don't hesitate to reach out."
"I wouldn't want to impose, Aunt Minerva..." Sarah said uncertainly.
"Family is never an imposition." Professor McGonagall replied, smiling at the young woman.
Sarah beamed at her and left the office. As Sarah departed, Professor McGonagall returned her attention to the letter she had been composing. She picked up a photo frame that she had turned over when her great-niece had entered the office and put it back in its original position. She gazed at the picture within the frame for a few moments before tearing her eyes away and heading to her classroom, where the NEWT students awaited her.
The following morning, Sarah sat with her friends at the breakfast table, fresh and early. As she passed by Minerva, she received a polite smile.
"So, are you guys planning to submit your names to the Goblet?" Fred and George simultaneously inquired, directing their question at Sarah, Dennis, and Amanda.
"I've already done it..." Dennis smirked and shrugged, eliciting a stern response from Amanda.
"Dennis, seriously?!" Amanda chided him with a stern tone.
"What? Isn't that the whole point of this trip? Sarah, come on, back me up!" Dennis implored, seeking support from his friend.
"I'm not sure, Denny. It seems quite risky." Sarah replied cautiously.
"Please, you're just afraid of your parents flipping out!" Dennis teased, earning a sharp glare from Sarah.
"I'm not scared, Dennis." She retorted curtly. She didn't appreciate being challenged.
"Come on, Sarah...it's okay if you are. Besides, it's not like we stand a chance...Emily Florish has already entered her name. Everyone knows she's incredibly gritty."
"Please...Emily is just reckless! And so are you." Sarah snapped.
"Besides...Sarah's got plenty of grit, Dennis. She doesn't need to prove it to anyone!" Amanda chimed in, supporting her friend.
"I don't know, Sarah...that sounds like something a chicken would say!" Dennis teased, pretending to cluck like a chicken. The table erupted in laughter at his antics.
"Dennis! Stop that!" Amanda scolded him. She could see that Sarah was getting worked up by his antics, and Amanda, being the logical one among the three of them, didn't want either of her friends to put their names in the Goblet. It felt like planning their own funeral.
"You know what!" Sarah snapped angrily, grabbing a spare piece of parchment and scribbling something down.
Dennis's smile faded, and he became tense. She showed him her name on the parchment, then began marching towards the room adjacent to the Great Hall where the Goblet was burning.
"Sarah...Sarah...come on, stop...what are you doing...Sarah...don't!" Dennis pleaded as he ran after her.
However, she was much faster on her feet.
"SARAH! STOP! I was just fooling around...I haven't submitted my...name..." He trailed off, his mouth hanging open, and so did Sarah's.
Before he could finish his sentence, Sarah had retrieved the parchment from the flames, but not quickly enough.
"Ah!" Sarah yelped as the parchment caught fire, burning her fingers. The burning parchment then floated into the Goblet.
They both stood there, watching as the parchment turned to ash.
"Fuck!" Sarah whispered.
What had she just done? Her parents were going to kill her!
"Merlin! What have you done!" Dennis almost yelled, pulling at his hair.
"I...I was just...I was just trying to teach you a lesson...and it just...caught fire!" Sarah replied in a panic.
"Alright...alright...let's calm down...it's not like you've been selected, right? It's not like the Goblet will choose you! There are plenty of people from our class who have applied...there's...probably like...I don't know...a hundred!"
"Dennis, there aren't even a hundred of us put together!" Sarah retorted, nursing her fingers that had been burned.
"But...there's literally a 100% chance, mate!" George chimed in, entering with Fred as the two AIMS students exchanged glances.
"But don't worry, Sarah...we're entering too!" The twins declared, clinking vials of aging potion and downing them. The AIMS students looked at them in surprise.
They stepped beyond the age boundary and submitted their names to the Goblet. Surprisingly, nothing happened to them. However, the moment they exited, the age barrier hit them squarely in the chest. They now sported two impressive, long white beards.
The four of them walked back into the Great Hall, where heads turned to laugh at the twins' newfound appearances. Professor Dumbledore, who had been leaving the hall post breakfast, eyed the four of them.
"Well, I must say, these are quite magnificent..." Professor Dumbledore chuckled, amused by the transformation, and sent the twins to the hospital wing.
Dumbledore looked at Sarah, offering her a warm smile, then left the Great Hall, following the twins and engaging them in a conversation about beard upkeep.
Tessra Jones glanced at her watch, her dark heels echoing on the marble floor. Irritation welled up inside her as each passing minute tested her patience.
This woman! Tessra thought, her annoyance growing with every tick of the clock.
Almost invariably, she was late, and it was starting to grate on Tessra's nerves. All 26 others had arrived, calmly sipping their coffee as the session concluded, but the one she awaited was nowhere to be seen. Sometimes, she really pushed Tessra's patience to its limits.
Today marked the day when the 27 Coven would open its doors to AIMS fifth-years and share insights about their futures. It was a tradition upheld for centuries, one that Tessra took great pride in.
For AIMS, the 27 Coven held immense importance, and conversely, AIMS was equally important to the 27 Coven. Most of the coven's members were AIMS graduates, after all.
The 27 Coven was more complex than its name suggested. Yes, it consisted of 27 witches and wizards, but they were the most powerful in America. Each member was a renowned magical figure in America and, in many cases, the world. This coven was unlike any other, wielding mastery over some of the world's most exclusive magic: Elemental magic. Its origins lay in ancient sorcery and alchemy, understood by few. Hence, the coven's sigil depicted a compass with the four elements—Earth, Wind, Water, and Fire—spread across its quadrants.
However, mastering elemental magic was no simple feat, even for the 27. Within the coven itself, most members could not perform such advanced magic. To lead, one had to be a master of an element. Currently, aside from Tessra, only five others held mastery over an element.
But joining the 27 (as they were informally known) wasn't a straightforward process. First, there needed to be an opening, which was a rare and arduous event in itself. When a vacancy arose, it didn't mean it was open to all. Either an existing member or the leader of the 27 (namely Tessra for the past 40 years) had to handpick a candidate they believed could pass their trials. Of these candidates, only one would be selected. That chosen individual had to demonstrate their skills and knowledge, graduating at the top of their class in two majors within two years—majors that typically took years to master. The choice of majors depended on the individual. After success (i.e. if they succeeded), the leader would assess their capabilities. Following a closed-door session with other members, the leader would decide whether to admit the candidate into the coven. Once initiated, the candidate underwent rigorous training under a mentor, often a coven member. In some special cases, the leader themselves worked with the candidate to impart the knowledge and magic unique to the 27. Most members were selected in their late twenties or early thirties, as a certain level of maturity was required.
The process was exhausting and not preferred by most. Furthermore, it wasn't as though people had much choice; if they weren't chosen, it meant they weren't capable enough to join one of the world's most powerful covens. Only individuals with true ambition, cunning, daring, intelligence and grit, among other criteria, even had a chance at receiving an invitation.
This was why the 27 Coven was highly esteemed in America and possibly worldwide. Its history was steeped in its role in numerous victories against dark magic and evil. The coven itself was as old as the Founding First 27, all of whom graduated from Ilvermorny and formed the coven, later establishing AIMS.
Initially, the school served as a means to identify the best young talents in America to join the coven, but recognizing the educational potential offered by AIMS professors, it opened its doors to all wizard-kind. Since its inception, the coven and its members had exclusively employed their exceptional skills for good. That had remained the status quo for a long time. There were, of course, occasional renegades, but among the many coven members, only four or five had ever deviated from the path. Only one had been ever been expelled from the coven, which was a well kept secret, that even most members were not privy to.
Tessra's patience was wearing thin. She observed the fifth-years returning from their tour of Coven House, led by Demetrius, a senior coven member.
"Still not here?" Demetrius asked, amused, as Tessra scanned the clear sky for any sign of the person she awaited.
"No! I must have a word with her, Demetrius...sometimes, it feels like she takes me for granted!"
"Of course, she is, Tessra. She knows you have a soft spot for her!" Demetrius chuckled, understanding Tessra's predicament. She knew he was right; she couldn't help but favor the woman; she was her mentee, after all.
"She's young and spirited, Tessra. She lacks the experience we have. Don't be too hard on her." Demetrius suggested kindly. Tessra shook her head and rolled her eyes at his leniency. She realized she was probably equally indulgent when it came to her mentee.
"All these students have done since arriving is ask for her! What should I tell them? They'll be so disappointed!"
"That she's a busy woman, probably on another mission like she usually is!"
"Oh, please! That will reflect poorly on the rest of the coven. You know the others; they've been sulking about her and her initiation since day one. Besides, they're probably gathered there, complaining that no one has inquired about them and their accomplishments."
"She does have a certain celebrity status, Tessra, especially among the youngsters. They're not interested in potions and arithmancy; they'd rather hear stories about fighting trolls and dark wizards. Honestly, I, myself enjoy reading the Daily Bugle just to see her face on it every day." Demetrius chuckled. Tessra shook her head, torn between amusement and mild disapproval.
She checked her watch again, and her frustration spiked instantly.
"This is ridiculous—two hours late!"
"Who's two hours late, Tess?" A female voice chimed in from behind. Tessra and Demetrius turned to see the very person they had been waiting for. She flashed them her customary smirk that had won hearts across the continent.
"You! Who else? I can't even begin to—" Tessra snapped, her anger rising and falling as she struggled to find the right words.
"I don't know what you mean. I've been here the whole time." She replied, casually lighting a cigarette.
"You have not!" Tessra snarled, a vein pulsing in her temple.
"Of course, I have. Demetrius gave the kids a tour, the members had some weak coffee and dry cake, complained about me, and now it's time to go home—or wherever else we're actually needed!" She said with a shrug.
"You know this because you've been standing behind us, listening to everything!" Tessra seethed.
"Of course, I have, Tess. Like I said, I've been here the whole time." She chuckled, with Demetrius joining in the laughter. Tessra shot him a sharp glare.
"Don't test my patience today—just don't!" Tessra warned as she grabbed the woman's hand and dragged her towards the group of fifth-years. Tessra practically tossed her into the midst of the students, who bombarded her with compliments and curious questions all at once.
The woman shot Tessra a glare over her aviators. Tessra responded with a wicked smile. She knew just how much the youngest member of the 27 despised being surrounded like this, especially at this annual event.
"A fitting punishment, my dear leader," Demetrius remarked, approaching Tessra, watching the younger woman try to handle the barrage of inquiries.
Tessra folded her arms victoriously and watched the scene unfold.
"Is that a phoenix?"
"Yes, she is!"
"What's her name?"
"Burst..."
"What a weird name!"
"Can you show us your Phoenix tattoo?"
"Can you show us some duelling tricks?"
"Can you tell us about your latest mission?!"
"Can I touch your Phoenix?"
"CAN I…"
"Get yourself out of this, my dear..." Tessra whispered to herself, considering it just punishment for her mentee.
AN/- Thanks for reading, hope you're enjoying it :)