“Mary!
Control your son!” Yule burst through the door of the Golden Galleon Loans and Pawnbroking shop with bags piled in both hands.
He didn’t seem to care that there was still a customer in the consultation room.
“He emptied my pockets!” “Yule.
Manners.” Mary handed the customer over to Susan and stepped out from behind the partition.
Then she noticed the broomstick in David’s hands.
Her brows drew together.
“Where did you get the money for that?” Yule immediately pointed at her.
“Excellent question!” Then he froze.
“…David.” He turned towards his nephew with a pointed look.
Explain.
David shrugged.
“Uncle Yule traded his looks for the money.” “Pfft—!” The customer drinking tea in the consultation room sprayed it straight out.
“Oh!
I’m terribly sorry.” The poor man had already come to a pawnshop to part with something valuable.
Now he couldn’t even decide whether he was supposed to laugh or cry.
“David!” “Sorry, Mr Bork.” Mary apologised towards the consultation room, then pulled her son aside.
She lowered her voice.
“You cannot say things like that.” “All right.” David nodded obediently.
“Then I’ll say Uncle Yule exchanged his youth for drinking money.” Yule smiled through clenched teeth.
“Thank you so very much, David.” He turned to Mary.
“He’s yours now.” “My mission is complete.” Yule marched towards the exit.
At the door, he looked back.
“Have Barclay come and collect you.” Then he pointed at David.
“I don’t want to see you again for at least a week.” “I want to go home now, Yule!” David hurried after him.
“Where are you going?” Yule yanked open the door.
“Have mercy on me, David.” He looked exhausted.
“I’m going after Tina.” David stared after him.
“I thought she wasn’t speaking to you!” “You’re too young to understand!
There’s nothing that one good—” The rest of Yule’s sentence disappeared into the noise of the street.
David leaned out slightly.
“What?” No answer.
Yule was already gone.
David returned to his mother and tilted his head.
“He means the rich girl.” He thought for a moment.
“Very rich.” Mary responded to the day’s events by issuing a new rule.
David was no longer allowed to be alone with Yule.
Apparently, she was convinced her brother-in-law would corrupt her son.
David considered this deeply unfair.
“This was entirely Uncle Yule’s fault!” He stood before James and defended himself passionately.
“I told him I didn’t even like broomsticks.” “He insisted on buying it for me.” “Of course.” James nodded sympathetically.
“I believe you, David.” He was holding a warning letter from the Ministry of Magic.
“Yule has always been troublesome.” James sighed.
“Never a particularly well-behaved child, was he?” David nodded solemnly.
Exactly.
Then his gaze fell to the letter.
“Am I going to be sent to Azkaban?” James looked up.
David added, “Pansy told me that’s where the British Ministry sends criminals.” “Of course not.” James folded the warning letter and slipped it back into its envelope.
“Being seen by Muggles while flying on a broom is hardly a serious enough offence for Azkaban.” David visibly relaxed.
James continued, “Still…” He gave his grandson a meaningful look.
“Flying around where Muggles can see you might frighten the poor things.” David considered that.
“All right.” He nodded.
“I won’t let them see me next time.” James paused.
That was not quite the lesson he had intended.
Still, David had at least acknowledged that he had done something wrong.
Perhaps that counted.
James stroked his beard thoughtfully.
“It seems you need to learn a few new things.” David looked at him.
“Something that will help you maintain a proper respect for magic.” James led him into the family study.
With a gesture, two enormous books flew from the shelves and landed heavily on the desk.
David eyed them suspiciously.
“You’ll be entering third year.” James placed one hand on the books.
“That means you’ll begin taking elective subjects.” “I recommend Ancient Runes.” David stepped closer.
James continued, “It’s one of the foundations of alchemy.” David looked down at the titles.
“The Book of Hieroglyphic Symbols…” His eyes moved to the second volume.
“And The Book of Abraham the Jew?” “Yes.” James nodded.
“They’re introductory works on alchemy.” David stared at the thickness of the books.
“At Hogwarts, you’ll begin with Ancient Runes Made Easy.” James raised his hand.
Several more books flew from the shelves.
“You’ll also eventually need reference works such as a runic dictionary, collections of magical symbols, pronunciation guides, advanced translation manuals…” One after another, heavy volumes landed on the desk.
David’s expression gradually changed.
“I have to learn all of this?” He stared at the growing mountain of books.
He liked reading.
That didn’t mean he wanted to spend the rest of his natural life doing nothing else.
James nodded.
“You have plenty of time.” Then he smiled.
“Provided you actually enjoy alchemy.” David rested one hand against the nearest book.
“I don’t really understand what alchemy is.” “That’s perfectly normal.” James took a seat.
“You’ve only just finished second year.” “I can hardly expect you to know something you’ve never been taught.” He gestured for David to sit opposite him.
Apparently, David’s punishment for flying a broom in front of Muggles had somehow transformed into a private alchemy lesson.
James folded his hands.
“Alchemy is an important branch of magic.” “It’s an ancient science concerned with the composition, structure, and magical properties of the four fundamental elements…” “…and with the transmutation of matter.” David opened one of the books while listening.
“Ancient alchemists believed that everything in the world was composed of four elements.” James lifted one finger after another.
“Air.” “Water.” “Earth.” “Fire.” “And every element represents a combination of two of four fundamental qualities.” A quill leapt from the desk.
It began writing by itself across a sheet of parchment.
Earth = Dry + Cold Water = Wet + Cold Air = Wet + Hot Fire = Dry + Hot David leaned forward.
James continued.
“At its heart, alchemy follows three principles.” “Understand.” “Deconstruct.” “Reconstruct.” “And when an appropriate ‘seed’ is introduced during transmutation, it can guide the reconstruction towards a specific result.” He tapped the parchment.
“For example, the creation of a Philosopher’s Stone requires a ‘golden seed’ to promote the transformation.” David’s eyes widened.
“The Philosopher’s Stone?” “Nicolas Flamel?” James nodded.
“There are stories about him at Beauxbatons,” David said.
“Yes.” James looked almost wistful.
“Nicolas Flamel successfully created a Philosopher’s Stone.” He leaned back.
“That is the beauty of alchemy.” David looked at him.
“Why don’t you make one?” James’s expression went still.
David patted the books.
“Doesn’t one of these explain how?” “Cough—cough.” James cleared his throat.
Rather suspiciously.
“Alchemy is not limited to Philosopher’s Stones.” “There are many other fascinating applications.” David remained unconvinced.
“Such as?” He was still far more interested in the Stone.
As far as he understood it, Nicolas Flamel had created one and promptly reached the absolute peak of life.
Wealth.
Longevity.
Fame.
Why would anyone not want one?
James searched for an example.
“Mandrakes.” David blinked.
James continued, “Their creation was also an achievement of alchemy.” Then he calmly described an old alchemical method involving material produced during the final convulsions of a hanged man, burying it in earth for a week, applying the proper enchantments, and waiting for the plant to bloom into a strange creature with a humanlike head and spiderlike body.
David stopped moving.
“…What?” He stared at his grandfather.
That was supposed to demonstrate the beauty of alchemy?
He was beginning to feel slightly ill.
James, entirely unbothered, continued the lesson.
“Broadly speaking, alchemy can be divided into three branches.” “Elemental.” “Explosive.” “And Control.” David still looked lost.
James gave him examples.
“The Philosopher’s Stone belongs to the Elemental branch.” “Thunderbolt II is Explosive alchemy.” David immediately understood that one.
“And the magical traps John and the others use to capture magical creatures…” James continued, “…are Control-type constructs.” “Modified Devil’s Snare, mostly.” David’s eyes brightened.
“Oh!” He nodded in sudden understanding.
“So Dad is good at alchemy.” James went silent.
For a moment, he looked genuinely wounded.
Then he sighed.
“No.” David blinked.
“Your mother.” James rubbed his forehead.
“Mary is the talented alchemist.” “As for your father…” He gave David a weary look.
“John has absolutely no talent for it.” CREATORS’ THOUGHTS SYSTEMATIC_MANIAC Enjoying the novel?
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