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Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry
Interdepartmental Memo
To: All Staff
From: Headmaster Dumbledore
Date: September 1st, 1993
Subject: New Muggle Studies Professor
Please lend me your attentive ears, though do return them later, to welcome our new Muggle Studies professor, the enchanting Emeric Ambrose. His experience with applied mythology, battlefield survival, and “teaching monarchs to tie their own boots” (his words) make him, I believe, well suited for the role.
Please note:
- Professor Ambrose has taken up residence in the upper levels of the West Tower. As you know, this area is magically unstable and officially restricted. Please respect his privacy. Urgent messages may be left by speaking them to the gargoyle at the base of the western rampart; the tower's guardian will see they are delivered.
- Do not, under any circumstances, let him near Sybill Trelawney during a prediction. His personal feelings on the subject of prophecy are… strong.
P.S. No, Minerva, I cannot elaborate further.
Yours in festive anticipation,
Albus Dumbledore
Headmaster
Diary of Sir Cadogan
September 2nd
Hark! A strange new scholar haunts these halls! Baby-faced as a squire but with eyes older than my sword arm! He didst stare at me this morn with an expression most queer—as if I were a ghost, or he were one. When I didst challenge him to a duel (as is polite), he just sighed, muttered, “For the love of Camelot, not this again,” and walked away! RUDE!
OVERHEARD IN THE STAFF ROOM
September 3rd
Professor Sprout: "He came into my greenhouse, took one look at the Venomous Tentacula, and told it to 'stop being so dramatic.' It actually wilted a bit. Then he patted a Mandrake, and it giggled. GIGGLED, Minerva. I had to repot it out of sheer embarrassment."
PEEVES’S WEEKLY REPORT (SCRAWLED ON THE GREAT HALL CEILING)
SEPTEMBER 5TH
AMBROSE IS A LOONY!
AMBROSE IS A SPOON!
SAW HIM POLISH GREAVES AND HOWL AT THE MOON!
THE ARMOR BOWED, PEEVES SAW IT TRUE —
IF BUCKETS THANK YOU, WHAT ELSE CAN THEY DO?
(WOT’S THE RANSOM FOR A WIZARD’S WITS? TEN CHOCOLATE FROGS!)
STUDENT ESSAY: "Paradoxical Pragmatism in Muggle Studies"
By: Padma Patil (Ravenclaw, 3rd Year)
Professor Ambrose’s approach to Muggle Studies is, to be frank, alarming. His first lecture disregarded the textbook entirely, focusing instead on a concept he termed “The Magical Superiority Fallacy.” His central thesis was that Muggles, lacking magical solutions, have developed a far more practical and effective tool for survival. He asked us to name it. No one answered correctly.
"It's not a spell or an artifact," he explained. "It's a mindset: Caution. A wizard sees a dark cave and thinks, 'I have Lumos.' A Muggle thinks, 'I have no idea what's in there, and I don't fancy being eaten.' Statistically, the Muggle is more likely to see another sunrise."
The lesson consisted of a series of Muggle "common sense" directives, which he insisted were more life-saving than most defensive charms. For instance: "Do not ingest unlabeled potions; Muggles call this 'not drinking bleach'." And: "Do not antagonize creatures larger than yourself; Muggles call this 'not poking bears with sticks'." I found his logic to be sound, if alarmingly blunt. I also noted that a significant portion of A History of Magic appears to be a chronicle of wizards ignoring this very advice.
His knowledge of archaic Muggle customs is encyclopedic, yet I can find no record of him in any academic registries under "Ambrose," "Emeric," or several other permutations I've tried. The mystery is compelling.
I received an 'O' for noting that "not poking bears" could be considered a foundational principle of Magizoology.
A NOTE FOUND TAPED TO THE DOOR OF THE KITCHENS
September 7th
To the Esteemed Keepers of the Hearth (House Elves),
The raspberry jam is an acceptable substitute for Gwen's, but the scones are a pale imitation. Do not be disheartened; hers were forged in the heart of a kingdom and baked with a patience that could calm kings. We shall work on this.
Procure the following at your earliest convenience. Leave the items by the west gargoyle. He has agreed to watch over them. Do not substitute.
Ingredients for Guinevere’s "Peace in Our Time" Scones:
- Flour: Milled from wheat grown in a field that has seen at least one sunrise after a major battle. The soil must remember both sorrow and relief. (Standard Hogsmeade flour will suffice if you must, but the scones will know. And they will be sullen.)
- Butter: Churned from the cream of a cow who has never been frightened by a dragon. This is non-negotiable. Frightened-cow-butter makes the scones tough.
- Sugar: Just a touch. Gwen always said the sweetness should come from the jam, not the bread.
- Buttermilk: Must be left out under a waxing moon for no less than one hour. It absorbs optimism.
- A Pinch of Salt: Harvested from the shores of a northern sea. Not the English Channel—too much political turmoil, you can taste the resentment.
- Dried Currants: Plumped in warm, watered-down mead. Not wine. Wine is for tragedies. Mead is for Tuesdays.
- One (1) Griffin's Eggshell, ground to a fine powder: For lightness. If a griffin is unavailable, the shell of a particularly brave chicken may be used as a last resort, but you will need to apologize to it first.
- A Whisper of Nutmeg: Scraped from a nut that has fallen, not been picked. It must choose to be part of the scone.
Bake until they are the color of the Camelot standard at dawn. Serve with the jam and clotted cream. Clotted cream is not a suggestion; it is a decree.
Your new, slightly disappointed, but hopeful Professor,
E.A.
LETTER HOME FROM DRACO MALFOY
September 10th
Mother,
Father insisted I continue with Muggle Studies, to "understand the adversary," but the new professor is a complete madman. Today, the Bloody Baron reminded him that he was speaking to nobility. The professor just smiled and said, "Royalty tends to have a short shelf life around me. I wouldn't boast." The Baron flinched and sulked off like a scolded child. There is something profoundly wrong with this man.
Your son,
Draco
A Notice Pinned to the Door of the History of Magic Classroom
September 10th
TO WHOM IT MAY CONCERN:
PROFESSOR BINNS' LECTURE ON THE "ARTHURIAN QUESTION" IS A HISTORICAL AND THEOLOGICAL CATASTROPHE.
- King Arthur was NOT a Roman-British general named Lucius Artorius Castus. I don't care what the Sarmatian connection suggests. The man was a Pendragon, couldn't speak a lick of proper Latin without complaining, and his idea of "cavalry tactics" was "charge forward and try not to fall off the horse."
- Excalibur was NOT a metaphor for the "sovereignty of the land granted by a Celtic water deity." It was a sword. A very real, very sharp, divinely forged instrument for shish-kebabing one's enemies. Stop overthinking it.
- Camelot did NOT fall due to a "schism between the rising Christian patriarchy and the suppressed pagan traditions represented by Morgana le Fay." It fell because of betrayal, bad decisions, and people being stubborn idiots. History is made by people, not by abstract nouns.
- And for the record, the Holy Grail was most likely a wooden cup and has absolutely NOTHING to do with the "bloodline of Christ." Honestly, do you people listen to yourselves?
History is not a symposium. It is blood and bone and mistakes that leave ghosts.
READ A PRIMARY SOURCE. OH WAIT, YOU CAN'T. I'M RIGHT HERE.
A Concerned Historian
(Professor Binns reportedly floated right through the note without noticing. Several Ravenclaws, however, were seen furiously copying it down, sparking a week-long debate in their common room that ended in a minor hexing incident.)
A Note from the Ministry of Magic, Department of Mysteries
Date: September 11th
Albus,
For the seventh time, please inform your Professor Ambrose that his requests for "lake-adjacent relics of Arthurian origin" are denied. Citing "scholarly curiosity" does not grant him access to classified artifacts. Furthermore, his assertion that the Giant Squid can provide "corroborating testimony" is not helping his case.
Sincerely,
Croaker
STUDENT ESSAY: "Applied Historical Medicine and a Study in Sorrow"
By: Susan Bones (Hufflepuff, 3rd Year)
I think Professor Ambrose might be the saddest person I have ever met. Our lesson today was supposed to be about Muggle medicine in the Middle Ages. He was incredibly knowledgeable, describing how they used cobwebs to bind wounds and willow bark for pain. He even demonstrated a poultice that, with a bit of a strange-smelling herb he brought, actually reduced the swelling on a bruise Neville got from falling off a stool.
He was cheerful enough until he started talking about poisons. He was listing Muggle antidotes for things like snakebite and nightshade, and he seemed to know them all by heart. Then Hannah Abbott asked if there was a Muggle equivalent to a bezoar—something that could cure any poison.
Professor Ambrose just stopped. He looked at his hands and said, very quietly, “Muggles understand a fundamental truth we often forget: some things are absolute. There is no panacea, no universal cure. Once certain poisons are in the blood, the damage is done.”
He looked up at us, and his eyes seemed very old. “You cannot magically undo the venom. All you can do is manage the inevitable. You make them comfortable, you ease their pain, and you stay with them until the end.”
He didn't seem to be talking about Muggles anymore. The room was completely silent for the rest of the hour. He gave everyone who was quiet an 'Acceptable.' I think he's been through something terrible. My aunt says some wounds never really heal, and I think he has one of those.
DIARY OF THE GIANT SQUID (AS INTERPRETED BY LUNA LOVEGOOD)
The Sad Man came again. He sat at the water’s edge and gave me toast. He speaks to the Lady in the Water, the one with the soft, sad smile. She told him he had waited long enough. He told her waiting was all he had left. Humans are strange.
STAFF MEETING MINUTES
September 12th
Item 7: Complaint – Prof. Ambrose’s “Muggle Artifacts” Display
Snape: He has put a cursed, dragon-forged sword in a display case and labeled it “A Monument to Mortal Folly.” It’s a hazard.
Ambrose: So was Arthur. Next item.
McGonagall: That’s not—
Ambrose: I’ll add a safety sign. Sign now reads: "Caution: Legendary Idiocy."
Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes Confidential Operations Logbook
September 13th
Operation Technicolor Tresses
Objective: Test-run prototype Mood-Mix Muesli (patent pending).
Location: Great Hall, breakfast.
Status: Ginny → neon green. Random Hufflepuff → pink. Snape → purple.
Result: Entire Hall resembled a rainbow riot.
Conclusion: Product ready for release. Sibling exemptions recommended.
...Fred, Ambrose just pulled me aside with blazing red hair. Asked us to change it blue to compliment his eyes. Offered to teach us how to enchant donkey ears if we add him into future operations.
FAT LADY TO SIR CADOGAN – PAINTING WHISPER
September 14th
He talks in his sleep. Last night: “Arthur, you idiot, the shield goes left.” Then he started snoring.
September 15th
Emeric—
In less than two weeks you have:
- Incited a protest from the castle's suits of armor.
- Been accused of radicalizing the Mandrakes.
- Received a formal complaint from the Department of Mysteries.
- Corrected the Fat Lady on 9th-century Welsh lullabies.
My office. 8 PM. We have much to discuss. Bring the sherry you stole from my cupboard. And for goodness sake, stop trying to debate Professor Binns. It upsets his ectoplasm.
—A.D.
AMBROSE’S JOURNAL (ENCRYPTED, TRANSLATED)
September 15th
Day 531,779
Hogwarts is loud. So loud. Children laughing like… like him. Ghosts whispering histories I wrote...
The Malfoy boy has Uther's sneer. I saw it and for a moment, I wanted to turn his hair into snakes. I settled for startling a ghost. Progress, I suppose.
Dumbledore knows. Or suspects. He has that look in his eye—the one that sees too much. I am so tired of being seen. The loneliness in this place is a physical thing. It has weight. It has wings. Sometimes I think it will swallow me whole.
UNFINISHED PORTRAIT IN THE DISUSED CORRIDOR (WHISPERED)
September 17
"...Merlin?"
"Took you long enough, clotpole."
"You look terrible."
"You’re paint."
"Still winning, then."