Black Bottle (1980s Edition)
75cl / 40%
£139.00
About this whisky
- Malt type: Blended
- Region: Scotland
Here is the story that J. K. Rowling could write about this whisky:
The dusty, cobwebbed cellar beneath the old library in Hogsmeade wasn’t a place many dared to venture. The door to it bore a faint inscription in curling script that read, "Memory waits for the brave." Hermione Granger, as always, had been the first to notice it.
“There’s something down there,” she said to Harry and Ron one crisp autumn afternoon, clutching a scroll she'd found while reorganizing the restricted section. "And I think it has to do with this—" she unrolled the parchment, revealing the words Black Bottle in elegant, swirling ink.
Harry frowned, leaning closer. “Black Bottle? Like a potion?”
“Or a drink!” Ron piped up, his eyes lighting with the hope of butterbeer.
But Hermione shook her head. “No. This isn’t just any drink. It says here it was crafted by wizards—disguised as Muggles working in a tea company. CD&G Grahams in Aberdeen, to be exact.”
“Why would wizards make whisky in a tea company?” Harry asked.
Hermione gave him a pointed look. “To hide it, obviously.”
The trio ventured into the cellar that evening, armed with wands and a sense of curiosity that often got them into trouble. The air was thick with the smell of damp stone, and faint whispers seemed to echo off the walls, though no one spoke.
At the center of the cellar was a pedestal, and on it sat a small black bottle. The label had long since faded, but as Hermione cast Lumos closer, they saw faint carvings etched into the glass: “Crafted by memory, bound by time.”
Harry reached out, but Hermione grabbed his arm. “Wait. It might be cursed.”
“Of course, it’s cursed,” Ron muttered. “Everything we find is cursed.”
But when Harry touched the bottle, nothing happened. It was surprisingly warm, and as he lifted it, the faintest smell of smoke and honey filled the air, mingling with something sweet, like ginger biscuits.
“What is it?” Harry asked.
“Something precious,” Hermione whispered, her eyes wide. “This is enchanted whisky, Harry. Not just any whisky. It’s brewed to hold memories.”
Back in the Gryffindor common room, the trio stared at the bottle, its dark glass reflecting the flickering firelight. Hermione had found instructions in the scroll: “Sip, and the past will find you.”
“Only one way to know,” Harry said, pouring the whisky into three small glasses. The liquid was a rich gold amber, gleaming like treasure.
They drank.
At once, the room spun. They weren’t in the common room anymore. Instead, they stood in a bustling street in 1879 Aberdeen. Wizards and Muggles mingled without suspicion. A shopfront bore the name CD&G Grahams, and inside, a young man was carefully sealing bottles of whisky, muttering an incantation under his breath.
“That’s the creator!” Hermione whispered. “Look at how he’s binding memories into the bottle. He’s preserving moments, feelings—like a Pensieve, but drinkable!”
The scene shifted. They were now in 1964, in the smoky office of a man in a Long John’s uniform, arguing with a wizard about selling the distillery. Another shift, and they stood in 2003 as Burns Stewart Distillers triumphantly purchased the distillery along with Bunnahabhain.
But it wasn’t just history they saw. With each sip, they felt emotions: the pride of the creator, the sorrow of those who sold the distillery, the joy of rediscovery. The whisky wasn’t just a drink; it was a portal to lives long gone.
When the trio returned to the present, they sat quietly for a moment, absorbing what they had experienced.
“It’s not just a bottle,” Hermione said softly. “It’s a relic. A way to connect with the past.”
Ron looked at the remaining liquid. “So… what do we do with it?”
Hermione rolled her eyes. “We protect it, of course! This isn’t something you just drink at a party. It belongs in a museum—or the Ministry. Imagine what could happen if the wrong person got their hands on it!”
Harry, however, wasn’t so sure. As he held the bottle, he couldn’t help but think about his parents. Would this bottle let him see them? Feel them? He set it down reluctantly, unsure if he dared to find out.
For now, the Black Bottle would remain hidden. But Harry knew that one day, someone else would find it—and the memories it carried would once again be brought to life.
********************************
Here is our humble description:
Black bottle started its journey in a tea blending company CD&G Grahams in Aberdeen around the year 1879. In 1964 the distillery was sold to Long Johns and changed hands a few more times until 2003 Burns Stewart Distillers bought the distillery along with Bunnahabhain distillery. The Colour is gold amber and smells like sweet porridge, cut grass and smoke in the distance, the palate is sweet ginger and wax, some burned herbs and finish is quick with oak and a touch of honey. It will remind you of the old fashioned sweets, nostalgic and precious.
The dusty, cobwebbed cellar beneath the old library in Hogsmeade wasn’t a place many dared to venture. The door to it bore a faint inscription in curling script that read, "Memory waits for the brave." Hermione Granger, as always, had been the first to notice it.
“There’s something down there,” she said to Harry and Ron one crisp autumn afternoon, clutching a scroll she'd found while reorganizing the restricted section. "And I think it has to do with this—" she unrolled the parchment, revealing the words Black Bottle in elegant, swirling ink.
Harry frowned, leaning closer. “Black Bottle? Like a potion?”
“Or a drink!” Ron piped up, his eyes lighting with the hope of butterbeer.
But Hermione shook her head. “No. This isn’t just any drink. It says here it was crafted by wizards—disguised as Muggles working in a tea company. CD&G Grahams in Aberdeen, to be exact.”
“Why would wizards make whisky in a tea company?” Harry asked.
Hermione gave him a pointed look. “To hide it, obviously.”
The trio ventured into the cellar that evening, armed with wands and a sense of curiosity that often got them into trouble. The air was thick with the smell of damp stone, and faint whispers seemed to echo off the walls, though no one spoke.
At the center of the cellar was a pedestal, and on it sat a small black bottle. The label had long since faded, but as Hermione cast Lumos closer, they saw faint carvings etched into the glass: “Crafted by memory, bound by time.”
Harry reached out, but Hermione grabbed his arm. “Wait. It might be cursed.”
“Of course, it’s cursed,” Ron muttered. “Everything we find is cursed.”
But when Harry touched the bottle, nothing happened. It was surprisingly warm, and as he lifted it, the faintest smell of smoke and honey filled the air, mingling with something sweet, like ginger biscuits.
“What is it?” Harry asked.
“Something precious,” Hermione whispered, her eyes wide. “This is enchanted whisky, Harry. Not just any whisky. It’s brewed to hold memories.”
Back in the Gryffindor common room, the trio stared at the bottle, its dark glass reflecting the flickering firelight. Hermione had found instructions in the scroll: “Sip, and the past will find you.”
“Only one way to know,” Harry said, pouring the whisky into three small glasses. The liquid was a rich gold amber, gleaming like treasure.
They drank.
At once, the room spun. They weren’t in the common room anymore. Instead, they stood in a bustling street in 1879 Aberdeen. Wizards and Muggles mingled without suspicion. A shopfront bore the name CD&G Grahams, and inside, a young man was carefully sealing bottles of whisky, muttering an incantation under his breath.
“That’s the creator!” Hermione whispered. “Look at how he’s binding memories into the bottle. He’s preserving moments, feelings—like a Pensieve, but drinkable!”
The scene shifted. They were now in 1964, in the smoky office of a man in a Long John’s uniform, arguing with a wizard about selling the distillery. Another shift, and they stood in 2003 as Burns Stewart Distillers triumphantly purchased the distillery along with Bunnahabhain.
But it wasn’t just history they saw. With each sip, they felt emotions: the pride of the creator, the sorrow of those who sold the distillery, the joy of rediscovery. The whisky wasn’t just a drink; it was a portal to lives long gone.
When the trio returned to the present, they sat quietly for a moment, absorbing what they had experienced.
“It’s not just a bottle,” Hermione said softly. “It’s a relic. A way to connect with the past.”
Ron looked at the remaining liquid. “So… what do we do with it?”
Hermione rolled her eyes. “We protect it, of course! This isn’t something you just drink at a party. It belongs in a museum—or the Ministry. Imagine what could happen if the wrong person got their hands on it!”
Harry, however, wasn’t so sure. As he held the bottle, he couldn’t help but think about his parents. Would this bottle let him see them? Feel them? He set it down reluctantly, unsure if he dared to find out.
For now, the Black Bottle would remain hidden. But Harry knew that one day, someone else would find it—and the memories it carried would once again be brought to life.
********************************
Here is our humble description:
Black bottle started its journey in a tea blending company CD&G Grahams in Aberdeen around the year 1879. In 1964 the distillery was sold to Long Johns and changed hands a few more times until 2003 Burns Stewart Distillers bought the distillery along with Bunnahabhain distillery. The Colour is gold amber and smells like sweet porridge, cut grass and smoke in the distance, the palate is sweet ginger and wax, some burned herbs and finish is quick with oak and a touch of honey. It will remind you of the old fashioned sweets, nostalgic and precious.
Tasting Notes
Sweet Porridge, Cut Grass and Smoke in the Distance
Sweet Ginger, Wax and Burned Herbs
Short Finish, Oak and Honey
