Work Text:
Harriet Potter took a puff from her small pipe as she eyed the other occupants of the small store in which she stood.
In the three years that she'd been working as a brewer here at the Serpent's Storeroom, she couldn't remember ever seeing the small shop as full as it was now. Under normal circumstances this would be cause for celebration, and likely a bigger order for her to brew over the course of the next few days. But this was far from normal circumstances. The shop's proprietor - her boss, Mr Krait - had been found dead when she'd arrived that morning. His corpse was now a gruesome monument to why one should never inhale incredibly poisonous gas, so her little home away from home was now an active murder scene. The little shop was now full of the most eclectic characters - those like her father who were investigating the crime, those like Professor Snape who'd come to shop and stumbled upon the scene, and those like Archie and Leo who'd come looking for her.
When she'd reported the crime, she'd expected things to proceed relatively quickly. She'd spent enough time between brewing steps reading Sherlock Holmes to know how these things were supposed to work - the aurors would come in, investigate, miss some important detail, and then a detective would show up and reveal the answer to the mystery in a way that made everyone feel incredibly dumb. But nothing had gone as she'd expected! The aurors had barely even begun investigating when other people had started to arrive, and now the crime scene was thoroughly contaminated. To make matters worse, they'd all been here so long that she was pretty sure by now that no detective was even coming.
They were lucky she'd bought a cheap pipe a couple of years ago on a whim, to imitate her hero detective. As always, it looked like she was going to have to do things herself.
She looked around the room as she puffed on her pipe, cataloguing the audience she had to work with. It wasn't enough to just reveal the murderer, after all, Mr Holmes always did it in the most dramatic way he could!
Her father and Master Snape were arguing loudly in front of the cash register - something about the auror's dunderheaded investigation skills having damaged valuable potions ingredients, and how there was no place for a sniveller in an active crime scene. Leo and his father were idling uncomfortably by the door, looking like neither wanted to be there but knowing they were held there by guild responsibilities and Harry in turn.
Archie and Sirius were huddled together in a corner, distracting themselves muttering about pranks while Hermione tutted at their immaturity. Meanwhile Lucius Malfoy was stood primly a respectable distance away, clearly frustrated at having to wait so long when he'd only come in to pick up Draco's potions, but unwilling to show his frustration openly.
Finally, Margo headed a small group of orphans who were loitering by the door. Harry was pretty sure they were only there because they were trying to figure out how best they could get into Lucius Malfoy's pockets for a nifty payday, but they were here nonetheless.
Her audience now catalogued, she inhaled one last time from her pipe, steeling herself for her moment, then decided she'd waited long enough.
"Excuse me, Dad, Master Snape," she called out, cutting through their argument as she did so. She made sure to carefully exhale her puff of smoke as she spoke, in a manner that imitated her hero, Mr Holmes, as best as any fifteen year old could. "I'm sorry to interrupt, but the potions ingredients weren't damaged by the aurors, Master Snape."
Her father gave a triumphant look sideways at Professor Snape, even as he tried to frown harshly at the sight of his fifteen year old daughter openly smoking in front of him. It resulted in quite an amusing sight as he tried to contort his face into two diametrically opposed looks at once, she thought.
Professor Snape was no better either, throwing an equally harsh frown at her as he spoke. "Then who damaged them, Miss Potter?" he demanded. "That Crumpled Wrisset Root was incredibly valuable!"
"And you shouldn't be smoking indoors!" Hermione hissed from the back of the room, as if outraged that neither adult had remarked on this fact. "It's terribly bad for you!"
Harry opted to ignore Hermione's scolding and plough on with her explanation. If her books had told her anything, they'd told her that smoke was necessary for these moments to add mystique.
"It's quite simple really, sir," she told him. "You see, the killer put together an almost impenetrable plan, but they made one fatal miscalculation. One which, unfortunately for them, was more than enough to tip off yours truly as to their identity."
Archie broke out into a coughing fit at her blatant pomposity, and Leo was goggling at her incredulously as she continued on. "They didn't account for the store's security footage."
"Damn!" her father cursed aloud. "Why do I always forget to check the security footage?! We need to do a refresher course at the office!"
Snape sneered at him openly. "It's incredibly reassuring to know that our nation's safety is in such meticulous hands, Potter. Whatever would we do without such a knowledgeable Chief Auror?"
Her father scowled at him harshly, but she could tell that there was - rightfully, in her opinion - more than a little embarrassment behind the scowl. "What does the footage show, Harry?" he asked, attempting to move on from his investigative faux-pas.
Harry's face took on a solemn expression at his question. "It shows everything, dad. It shows the killer. It shows how they bumbled their way around the store trying to find ingredients, yet unable to reach the correct shelves. In their bumbling they knocked over a particularly poisonous jar of liquefied belladonna essence, and I think we all know how dangerous that can be."
She raised an eyebrow dramatically, attempting to add a flourish to her words, but sighed internally when she got no reaction from her audience.
"Mr Krait rushed over to get them out of the way of the fumes, but ingested them himself in doing so. It was an unfortunate accident... or perhaps that’s just what the killer intended for it to look like."
"Couldn't reach the shelves?" Archie asked, puzzled. "Was it a goblin or something?"
"Don't be silly, Arch," Sirius grinned as he elbowed his son in the side. "It was probably Professor Flitwick."
"If you're quite finished, Sirius!" James said coolly, as Snape tutted in exasperation next to him. "There's no need to speculate when Harry has the answers. Who was it, Harry?"
"Elementary, dear... father," she said, stumbling over the familiar-yet-not phrase as she adjusted it on the fly. "It was neither a goblin, nor Professor Flitwick, as you suspect. It was someone far closer to home. Isn't that right... Addy?!"
She spun round dramatically, and the shop was filled with gasps and cries of horror as her little sister Addy crawled out from behind the next aisle.
Harry could only smile ruefully as she alone heard her sister gurgle out over the noise a frustrated: "Foiled again! Damnit, Harry!"
"Book her, dad!" she called out in satisfaction. Her first case solved. Maybe, she thought, if this potions thing didn't work out when all was said and done, she'd found her calling in detective work.
She supposed only time would tell.