A Simple Alchemy Lesson

"We're going to be late for breakfast, Oleandra!" Tracey called out. "Hurry up, or Daphne's going to leave without us!"

"Coming!" Oleandra called back.

Oleandra snapped shut her copy of A Guide to Advanced Transfiguration and hastily dropped it into her pouch, before flushing the toilet. According to Professor McGonagall, sixth-years wouldn't begin Human Transfiguration until Christmas, but Oleandra was determined to get a head start. Without her headband, the tapered tips of her long, pointy ears kept peeking through her hair. Oleandra felt that people already had enough to whisper about behind her back without adding the topic of her inhuman ears to the mix…

"You were in there for an awful long time," said a concerned Tracey, as Oleandra exited her bathroom stall. "Your nose wasn't bleeding again, was it?"

"That was five days ago," said Oleandra dismissively, as she thoroughly washed her hands. "It's no use worrying about it."

Oleandra's first week at Hogwarts as a sixth-year student had already come and gone. It had felt jarring at first, not having to fear getting murdered in her bed and instead going to classes every day, but Oleandra had managed to get used to it— and after the first three days, she had stopped waking up in the middle of the night to check on non-existent wards and protective enchantments.

Oleandra and Tracey exited the girls' bathroom and went up the stairs to the common room, where they found that a small crowd had gathered in front of the corkboard. Oleandra walked up to Theo, who was a good head's length taller than her.

"Morning," said Oleandra. "What's all the fuss about?"

"Our first Alchemy class is today," said Theo, his eyes gleaming with anticipation. "Right after breakfast!"

"Classes on Saturday?" said Tracey, appalled that she'd actually have to learn on the weekend. "Is nothing sacred any more?"

Oleandra elbowed her way to the front of the crowd to get a look for herself. There was the notice— right under Malfoy's note, which stated that Quidditch tryouts would take place the following weekend.

"Bit short notice, innit?" said Tracey, looking over Oleandra's shoulder. "Let's see… no need to bring anything other than a quill and some parchment, and the classroom's not too far from the Potions classroom…"

Once upon a time, Oleandra had visited the Alchemy classroom to help the Weasleys twins with one of their projects, so she already knew exactly where it was located. So, after having some breakfast, which consisted of a few bites of fruit along with some gruel topped with brown sugar, Tracey, Daphne and Theodore followed Oleandra through the dungeons to the classroom.

"I can't believe we're actually getting the chance to learn Alchemy from Professor Dumbledore himself!" gushed Hermione, making a beeline to the Greengrass girls' table when she arrived a few minutes later. "I was so worried they wouldn't offer the class this year, seeing as they don't give it every year— it depends on the number of students applying for it, you know— but to think Professor Dumbledore would be teaching us personally! I wonder if Nicholas Flamel taught him how to make a Philosopher's Stone?"

"I doubt it," said Oleandra, who was getting slightly annoyed, having her ear talked off by a nervous Hermione.

"I'm afraid Miss Greengrass is correct," came Professor Dumbledore's voice from the front of the classroom. "The secret of the Stone died with Nicholas and Perenelle a few years ago, but perhaps that was for the best— some secrets should be left well enough alone…"

Startled, Oleandra looked up as Professor Dumbledore entered the classroom.

He didn't appear to have brought any alchemical equipment with him, which probably meant that this class would only be theoretical. Come to think of it, neither had he made them purchase any schoolbooks or supplies…

"Ah, but how could I forget?" said Professor Dumbledore pleasantly. "Good morning, good morning!"

The class of six chanted back 'good morning, Professor Dumbledore,' with varying levels of enthusiasm.

"Now, before we begin in earnest," said Professor Dumbledore, "I should like to hear your perspectives on Alchemy and your expectations about this class… Yes, Miss Granger?"

Oleandra looked to her left— Hermione's hand was in its natural position: in the air.

"Alchemy is the study of change, so unlike Transfiguration spells, alchemical transmutations can permanently alter an object's properties," Hermione eagerly explained. "As for my expectations... well, the class should be purely theoretical, shouldn't it?"

Having asked Percy about the elusive Alchemy class a few years ago, Hermione knew for a fact that the class was only theoretical. Alchemy was more-or-less on par with Runesmithing and Wandmaking when it came to difficulty, as all three represented the pinnacle of magical craftsmanship. To truly master these disciplines, one would have to take an apprenticeship under a grandmaster— and such important people had better things to do than to spend the majority of their time teaching at Hogwarts.

Theo scoffed derisively.

"Yes, Mr Nott?" said Professor Dumbledore, peering at him over his crescent moon spectacles.

"True Alchemy has but two goals— the creation of the Elixir of Immortality and the transmutation of base metals into gold, both of which are possible through the creation of a Philosopher's Stone," said Theo proudly. "It is the Nott family's dream to recreate the Stone."

The Notts were alchemists by trade, which had made them extremely respected members of magical society… that is, until Theo's father had been arrested and sent to Azkaban, shortly after the scramble battle for the Prophecy Record.

"Both answers are quite correct, although some purists might prefer Mr Nott's definition," said Professor Dumbledore, nodding wisely to himself. "I personally believe it to be slightly behind the times, as magic is a constantly evolving thing. Magical disciplines grow and adapt to the times, and Alchemy is no exception..."

Theo said nothing, but he crossed his arms in front of him on his desk.

"Now, onto today's task!" said Professor Dumbledore jovially, as he drew his wand from his sleeve. "I personally find purely theoretical classes to be quite boring, so wands out, everyone. We shall begin with the easiest transmutation: gold to lead!"

Hermione let out a surprised hiccup.

"…Miss Greengrass?" said Professor Dumbledore, immediately noticing that something was wrong with her.

Oleandra's eyes were fixed on Dumbledore's wand.

The Elder Wand had been right in front of her, all these years.

Everything else in the room seemed to fade out of focus, save for the intricately carved stick in the old man's hand. She could hear her blood rushing through her ears and feel her chest tightening, as if her heart were being squeezed in a vice.

The background of the classroom wavered and disappeared, replaced by an ancient forest.

Cold sweat was running down her back.

Her younger sister Anna was pointing the Deathstick at her, grinning malevolently. And then, with murder in her eyes, she spoke the magic words.

Oleandra's breathing grew erratic.

"AVADA KEDAVRA!" shouted Morganna.

And Oleandra screamed.