Chapter 13: Wisdom and Knowledge
I ran a hand through my hair, feeling nervous as I walked to school the day after Halloween. The Thursday morning was crisp and cool, and I grew more anxious the closer I got to Woolingsby.
'What will Harry think?' I couldn't help but wonder. 'And Sam? How is this going to change our dynamic? Our friendship?'
I did not regret telling them about magic. It was a risk, yes, but it was something that'd needed to be done.
My thoughts then drifted to the real reason I was so nervous.
'I just hope Harry is alright,' I thought to myself. 'Dudley better not have gotten Harry into any trouble, or I swear to god I will call Child Protective Services on the Dursleys and damn the consequences!'
Walking past the tree Harry had struck with his lightning yesterday, I was relieved to see that the flames hadn't spread far, and that other than being split down the middle, no damage to the surroundings had occurred. I couldn't help but wonder if any Obliviators had come by, or if the magical outburst had even been noticed. I had only a vague idea of how the trace worked thanks to my mother and some books I'd read, but so far it seemed that Harry wasn't under its influence yet since no one had come snooping around.
I reached the school building with my mind awhirl over a dozen different topics, and went inside, making a beeline to the library. Within the familiar book-stuffed walls, I felt some of the tension leave me when I spotted Harry waiting at our usual table in the back. So, he didn't want to ditch me just yet.
"Morning," I greeted him, trying to seem casual.
"Morning," he replied back.
"Are you okay? Did Dudley or anyone else give you a hard time for coming home late?" I asked him, and to my relief he shook his head.
"No, Dudley and his gang were out trick-or-treating when Mr. Parson dropped me off," Harry said with a shake of his head. "And I was able to sneak in through the back without Aunt Petunia noticing. And when Dudley did get back, he was too hopped up on sugar to do anything expect crash."
I grimaced at the fact he'd had to sneak around like that, and decided to distract myself with handing over the breakfast and lunch Inky had made for him.
"How are you holding up with, uh, what I told you yesterday?" I inquired, and Harry bit his lip in thought before answering.
"It's hard to believe," he admitted. "But everything just… makes sense now that I have a context for it."
"Good," I nodded.
"And you said I'd be going to a new school soon?" he asked hopefully. "Hogwash?"
"Hogwarts," I corrected. "And yes. You'll get a letter, possibly by owl – we use owls to deliver mail, if you recall from last night's lecture – or some other odd, magical way, around the time you turn 11."
"I turn eleven next July," he said, a note of hope and excitement within his voice. "I really won't have to spend the year with them?"
"Yup. It's a boarding school. You can leave during winter and spring breaks, and you have to come back for the summer, but that's manageable, hopefully."
"Yeah. Maybe if they don't see me for more than six months out of the year, it'll make things better the short while I do have to stay around them," Harry said, looking excited at the prospect.
Damn it, now I wanted to hug the poor boy! What kind of life does he live where he thinks that sort of deal is the best sort he can hope for?!
"Well, until you're going there, you have some school work to do here," I said, motioning for him to hand over the homework I needed to go over. He grimaced but complied, giving it to me.
"Can't I just flunk them?" Harry pleaded. "They won't matter in the long run!"
"No can do," I replied with a chuckle. "I made a promise to get your grades up, and I'm going to do just that! Besides, I think keeping up with your muggle studies while also getting a magical education wouldn't hurt you."
"That seems like hard work," Harry grumbled.
"Probably. But hey, look at it this way! You'll impress the ladies in both worlds if you can show off your high grades."
Harry scrunched up his nose at the thought of 'girls' and shook his head with a grimace, which only made me chuckle harder.
"One day," I promised him. "One day."
"Tell me more about that sport wizards play," Harry pleaded, trying to change the subject.
Seeing the sparkle in his eye as I explained Quidditch and flying brooms to him, I knew that he was going to be a real broom-head, just like his counterpart in the books.
{&&&&&}
After meeting with Harry in the library, I was feeling upbeat. My good mood continued when I saw Sam before class, and he gave me a nod in greeting instead of ignoring me, as I'd feared he might after learning about my heritage.
"Hey," he said.
"Hey, yourself," I replied. "How's everything on your end? Last night got… wacky."
"Tell me about it," Sam sighed. "I could barely sleep my head was so full of thoughts."
He discreetly looked about, checking to see if anyone was listening in. Nobody was, but it was a smart thing to do all the same.
"Can I swing by your flat after school?" he asked. "I have some more questions."
"Sure thing, I'll do what I can to help," I replied. Sam nodded gratefully, and together we waited for the school day to come to an end.
Once it was over, we hastened to make our way to my home, and I let him inside.
"Sorry about the mess," I said as he eyed the pile of vials and magical ingredients in the kitchenette.
"No problem," he muttered. "Still trying to wrap my head around this 'magic' stuff."
"Yeah, I get it," I said sympathetically. I pulled out a chair for him and turned on the electric kettle for tea. "So, what can I do for you?"
"I have a couple questions," he admitted.
"Ask away," I said.
"Do potions work on, well, anyone?" he asked.
"Some work better on magicals, others can be multipurpose. It depends on what you want to do," I replied. "Most healing potions can work on anybody, because the healing effect is coming from the potion itself, rather than drawing from the body's reserves of magic."
"And what about spells?" Sam queried.
"Spells work on anybody," I confirmed. "Magical or mundane, it doesn't matter who the target is. Some wizards argue they're more effective on non-magicals, because they lack inner reserves of magical energy and thus lack magic resistance, but in my opinion, that's just pureblood bias talking. Plus, there's no proof of natural 'magic resistance' even existing. At least in humans. Some magical creatures have it, like basilisks, sphinxes, and dragons, but no sapient magical race has anything like that."
I then cocked my head to the side. "Sorry, got lost on a tangent. Is there anything else, Sam?"
"How much can magic do?" Sam asked.
"A lot. If there's not a spell for something, it's not impossible to try and invent a new one, but that takes time and a lot of different disciplines and areas of study. And whatever a spell cast by a wand can do, potions and runes can do as well."
Sam took a deep breath, shoulders tense. "Can… can it turn me into a woman?"
Sam's question hung in the air for a long time even after he'd spoken and I slowly shook my head.
"No, I'm unaware of anything currently in existence that can do that," I admitted. "There might be gender swapping curses, and there are a plethora of physical alternation spells and potions, but to my knowledge, none of them are permanent."
I then leaned in towards my best friend. "How long have you been, uh, you know… thinking about this?"
"Um, a year or so," he admitted, the tension in his posture easing up slightly when I didn't immediately act weirded out. "I've been thinking about it for a while, but… I just don't know. I don't feel right. Like my body doesn't fit. Does that make sense?"
"Sounds like body dysmorphia," I claimed. "But to be honest… yeah, I kinda do know what not feeling 'right' in your body is like."
Sam tilted his head to the side, before his eyes widened. "Oh. Because of the, um, squib stuff?"
"That's part of it, yeah," I said. I didn't say a thing about my first couple of years as a baby in this world, trying to rationalize and come to terms with suddenly going from an adult to a newborn, and then also having a completely different appearance and everything else that came along with reincarnation.
Occlumency helped shove it down deep where it couldn't bother me, but at nights, I sometimes lay awake, terrified of waking up one day in a whole new body in a new world, as if this one had been naught but a dream. It wasn't fun. At all.
"I'm sorry," Sam said, looking down at the table.
"It's fine. And I'm sorry I can't help you immediately," I replied. "But! That doesn't mean I can't one day find an answer to your question."
"Really?" he asked, surprised.
"Sure! If magical folk can brew a potion that literally alters a person's luck, then I can damn well invent a gender changing potion," I replied firmly, folding my arms.
"That's amazing!" Sam said excitedly.
"Yup," I said with a nod.
"So… your healing cream. Is it real? I mean, is it real magic?" Sam asked.
"It is! But it uses completely mundane ingredients. The 'spark' of magic that gives it its unique properties comes from a combination of enchanted brewing items and the faint magical energy within the ingredients. All living things have magic in them, you know. Most things lack enough to actually do anything, though."
"You know, speaking of your potions," Sam said thoughtfully, "You should probably think about doing some major pushes if you actually want to sell your potions in a wider market."
"What do you mean?" I asked.
"Selling your stuff locally is good and all, but if you want to really make a living off of it, you'll need to make way more than a few jars worth a month, and to have more potential buyers. Plus, you need a brand name and logo. Something that pops and stands out, ya know?"
"Yeah, I do," I said. "I just don't really know where to start with it."
"Well, why don't you ask my mom for help?" Sam suggested. "She used to work in marketing before she had me and sis."
"That's not a bad idea," I mused.
"Right?" Sam chuckled. "And, um, I have another question."
"Shoot."
"Can you help me with my math homework?" Sam requested, and I chuckled.
"Sure thing," I said with a grin.
We did our homework together, finishing it up quickly, and then he'd left, feeling upbeat. I, however, was left with my thoughts.
Sam had been gone for a few hours now, and I'd been distracted long before then. I sat at the table and stared down at a blank piece of paper, Sam's words repeating over and over in my head.
He was right, of course. I needed a brand. An image. A logo. Just selling to housewives and relying on word of mouth wouldn't do, I'd have to aggressively advertise my medical creams.
Loathe as I was to spend money on anything other than potion ingredients, I'd need to do so to make my marketing campaign work. Flyers, posters, the works. And of course, I'd have to start selling my products further afield, rather than hanging around my current neighborhood. Did Britain have farmer's markets? I'd need to look into that.
'I'll also need to find a way to up the production limits,' I thought to myself. 'Hire another squib? No, unless they're younger than me, they won't take a teen seriously. Could I perhaps pay Sam? I have found a few ways to imbue magic into the potion making process with runes and special stirring rods, so even someone without magic can brew some of the more complicated potions.'
I shook my head. 'Something to think about for later. But I will need personnel. Someone to handle the money I'll be making, and security, eventually. PR, sales… so many different things!'
'I'll have to speak with Tarsworth about who to talk to for a business license,' I continued to ponder. 'But first things first. A name and a logo. But what?'
After thinking it over for a bit, I finally came up with the idea for both the logo and my future company name.
With a few strokes of the pen, I had it; the Omega symbol, with two small 'legs' at the bottom of the 'U' shape. Then, above it, I wrote down the name to go with the logo.
CAULDRON.
It was a blatant case of 'borrowing' heavily from the web novel series Worm, but who was going to sue me over it here? Besides, it was fitting. The name and logo had been used by a secret society of superpowered jerks to guide the development of human history. And here I was, taking knowledge from another, much larger, secret society to sell to unaware people.
Plus, ya know, I was making 'herbal remedies' for healing purposes, and people associated witches and cauldrons with potions, but obviously such things weren't real. Duh.
I chuckled to myself. Hiding in plain sight. It was fiendishly clever. Even if a wizard did spot my company name and looked into it, they'd just find me, a regular old squib. I couldn't do magic, so therefore I couldn't be selling anything magical to the muggles, and was probably only using the name as a marketing ploy and means of trying to keep ties to the magical family side of things. Nothing suspicious here!
"Inky," I called out, and the House Elf popped in next to me.
"Yes, young master Eddy?"
"It's time to whip up some more potions. Set the cauldron on the stove, we've got brewing to do!" I declared, jabbing a finger towards the sky.
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