Rise of the Alchemists Ch 3: Classes

Writing belongs to NovaMagma at and pinktwirlz at

HP Belongs to JK not me.


AUTHOR'S NOTE: Lots of this content is not mine. Nott's speech is almost directly from Pottermore, and though I probably don't have to mention this, but the name Silas Ramsay comes from Cyrus Ramsey from Star Trek (i regret nothing)


The Slytherin common room was located underneath the lake, and as such the lighting had a constant blue tinge that made you shiver just by looking at it. But if you stay in the room for any extended period of time your eyes would get used to it, Albus found soon out.

Albus's dorm room he shared with the other first year boys, of which there were ten, and had been split into two rooms. After a great deal of arguing and debating with the other boys, everyone managed to move their things to a four poster that satisfied them. Other than Al and Scorpius, the other first years who shared their room were Farris Miller, a lanky black haired fellow, and a pair of short American twins named Carson and Taylor Nelson, whose parents moved them to England shortly after their birth.

The following morning, the first years made their way to the great hall in a single pack, each of them just nervous enough to not go alone, but none willing to admit it. The trek out of the dungeons was long and confusing, and it took them nearly an hour to find their way out after getting lost. By the time they made it to breakfast, the great hall was crowded with people all anxious to receive the schedules the teachers were handing out.

"Oi!" Nott called from the Slytherin table. "New lot! Over here!"

As the first years ran to the table, Nott gestured for them to all sit near him. Next to Nott was another prefect, this one a girl with dark skin and curly hair.

"You didn't see much of her yesterday, so I'd like you to meet Gwen Robins, the other Slytherin prefect." He pointed to the girl. She smiled and nodded, and the first years mumbled their greetings. "Another thing we didn't get to yesterday was a formal introduction of the house. Go ahead and eat breakfast while I talk, it won't take long.

"Slytherin, as I'm sure most of you agree, is the best of the houses. We have the most honor, nobility, and talent as far as I'm concerned. If the Sorting Hat placed you in Slytherin, that means you have a seed of greatness planted in you, and none of you forget it. People in Slytherin do great things, even if they sometimes become corrupt along the way." Nott and Robins shared an uncomfortable glance.

"This is the first rule of the Slytherin house: We take care of our own. While Ravenclaws are scrambling over each other for better marks, we stay united, because most everyone is united against us. We have obligations to our serpentine brothers, don't forget that. You will be grateful to have the Serpents on your side as you roam the halls of the school.

"The other rule of the Slytherin house: Don't believe what others say about us. Most say that we are all interested in Dark Arts, and come from all pureblood lineage back to Merlin's time. It's all rubbish. Sure, we've produced our fair share of Dark Wizards, but so do the other houses, they just don't admit it.

"That's most everything you need to know about us. You know where your dormitories are, and all that, but if you need anything else don't hesitate to talk to me or Robins. Password changes every fortnight, so keep an eye on the notice board. Also, while you're here, try and make friends with the Bloody Baron. He's happy to point new Slytherins in the right direction, and if you ask nicely, he might agree to frighten people for you. Just don't ask about his bloodstains; he doesn't like it." Nott smiled encouragingly to the somewhat overwhelmed first years, before noticing someone behind him.

"Ah, Professor Grumman!" He greeted. The man was about average height, and had curly, silver hair, and seemed to have a twitch in his eye.

"Good morning, Nott. I see you have your first years?" He nodded at the cluster of students. "My name is Professor Grumman, the transfiguration teacher and head of Slytherin house. I would ask your names, but I daresay I'll find them out in due course." He spoke very impressively for such a frail looking man, Al noticed. "Meanwhile, here are your schedules." He handed each first year an identical schedule, written in dark green ink on a piece of thick parchment. Grumman didn't stay long however, as soon as the last schedule was handed out, he made a beeline back for the teacher's table.

"Grumman gets a bit awkward sometimes, don't mind him." Robins explained, looking over her own schedule.

"What do we have first?" Scorpius asked Albus as he ate a piece of sausage. Albus looked down at the parchment.

"Potions." Albus said. Scorpius nodded.

"You any good at potions?" He asked. Albus shook his head.

"I tried making a simple one once, but it wasn't really my thing."

"Me neither." Scorpius smiled. "So I guess we're in the same boat then." Albus nodded.

After finishing their hasty breakfast, Albus and Scorpius made their way back to the dungeons to find their first class. The potions room was a hallway across from the Slytherin common room, so Albus managed to find their way there without much incident. Unlike the rest of the dungeons, the potions room had a cheery atmosphere, and was brightly lit. There were various plants growing along the sides of the room that sported all different colors, although the atmosphere was a bit tainted by the assorted jars that sported various objects floating in gaseous liquids.

Scorpius and Albus weren't the first students to arrive, as a couple of prestigious Gryffindors also entered the class early. A few of them sent the two Slytherins glares, but for the most part they were ignored. They took two seats in the left side of the room, as the Gryffindor students had claimed the right.

Over the next ten minutes, the rest of the class eventually trickled in. Albus and Scorpius ended up sharing their table with the Nelson twins, and they were beginning a conversation when the Professor Sprout, the Potions teacher, entered the room.

Marien Sprout was the daughter of an old Herbology teacher, Pomona Sprout, and looked just like her. She was a stout lady, but had a youthful enthusiasm not found in many other teachers.

"Hello, all!" Professor Sprout called out gleefully. The class murmured in response. "Welcome to your first class of the year! My name is Professor Sprout, some of you half or pure bloods out there might have parents who knew my mother. Show of hands? Yes yes, I thought so. So...potions!"

The rest of the class was an interesting one. After going over basic rules and guidelines, the students got to watch as she poured a love potion on one of her strange plants, and the plant attached its suckers to the arm of A Gryffindor girl. She then walked them through the process of making a cough tonic, during which Albus managed to catch his hat on fire, and everyone had to cover their noses from the smell of burnt hair.

After Albus's hair was sufficiently regrown, the class went on relatively normally until the bell. As they left the classroom, the first year Gryffindors, (as no doubt instructed by their upperclassmen) shot glares at the Slytherin students, who returned them just as icily.

"You know," Albus whispered to Scorpius, pushing through a crowd of third years. "Nothing's ever going to change between our houses if we don't let it."

"Old rivalries go deep." Scorpius said simply. Albus still looked concerned, so Scorpius went on. "Hey, you're here aren't you? You come from a long line of Gryffindors. Maybe you're the sign that something's changing." Albus considered this, and added.

"I don't know if I like that sort of role." Al laughed. Scorpius also gave an amused snort.

Over the course of the week they experienced all the classes that were offered to the first years, assuming they could find their classes in the first place. The dungeons were a cakewalk compared to what the school had to offer: changing doors, impersonating doors, trick stair steps, moving staircases; it was enough to drive any eleven year old mad. Luckily, thanks to Al's very analytical brain, he was able to navigate through the halls easier than Scorpius could and they managed to arrive on time for most of their classes.

The class that fascinated Albus most was Transfiguration. It was taught by Cody Grumman, the head to Slytherin house. Though Grumman had appeared nervous in the Great Hall, while he was in the classroom he was in his element. He could get completely absorbed in lecturing about the theories of transfiguration, and sometimes even forget he had a class there. He even showed the class how he had trained his owl as an Animagus; with a flick of the finger his owl could turn himself into a cat, and back again. By the end of the hour, Albus managed to change the color of his quill from brown to red, and received his first ten points for Slytherin house.

The worst class of all by far was History of Magic, taught by Professor Binns, the only ghost teacher in the entire school. The classroom itself was hot and stuffy, and that combined with the drone of the ghost teacher's voice made the room nearly unbearable. It was a constant battle just to keep your eyes open. No one in the room lasted ten minutes before becoming near comatose.

Except Scorpius Malfoy.

Out of all the rest of them, Scorpius fought long and hard against the drone of Professor Binns. Scorpius held a particular fascination for magical history, in his pre-schooling he was particularly talented at it. Nothing pleased him more than learning about the bloodlines of Merlin, the birthplace of Nicholas Flamel, or the great Troll Revolution of 1349. This, Albus reflected, was probably what got Scorpius into Slytherin: his curiosity about histories and bloodlines, as he didn't seem to sport any other great ambition or cunning attitude.

Scorpius lasted a grand forty six minutes before giving way to the exhaustion. The other students that had chosen to observe his efforts instead of paying attention on their own gave a quiet round of applause when he fell. Binns didn't notice.

By the time lunch that day came around, they were famished. Albus was just starting to spoon leftover eggs on his plate, when Rose came over from the Ravenclaw table. It was the first time since the Sorting that Rose had spoken to Albus.

"Hey." She called out, unsure as to whether she should sit down or not.

"Huh? Oh, hi!" Albus replied. Scorpius only registered half of heir conversation, as he was still groggy from History of Magic. "Congratulations on getting into Ravenclaw." Albus said.

Rose seemed to decide she was more comfortable standing up, so Albus turned around on the bench and held up his plate as he ate. "Thanks," She said. "You too on...Slytherin. You...holding up okay?" Was this Rose's way of trying to be helpful? How fascinating.

Albus swallowed. "Yeah, I'm doing fine. James has been making fun of me though." He turned and noticed Scorpius was inches away from falling headfirst into his soup, so Al pushed him up by the forehead and turned him around. "Rose, this is Scorpius Malfoy. Scorpius, Rose Weasley."

"Pleasure." Rose said, giving Albus a nervous glance (her father was gonna flip) before extending her hand. Scorpius shook his head to wake himself up, and took it.

"You too." He smiled.

After a couple more minutes of small talk, Rose lightened up. She seemed to have convinced herself that an evil snake demon had not possessed her cousin, so she went to rejoin her friends in Ravenclaw.

"Oh Al, by the way," She added before leaving earshot. "James persuaded Peeves to try and follow you around. He's waiting in the second floor corridor for you, so try to stay away." Albus waved in thanks, and she was off.

"Who's Peeves?" Albus asked Scorpius once she had left.

"The poltergeist." Scorpius responded. "Bloody annoying, I've heard. Best to follow her advice if he's got a thing for you especially. We should get going soon though, Herbology will start in ten minutes."

As it turned out, the Ravenclaws shared their Herbology with the Slytherins. Professor Longbottom taught the class, and though he wasn't the best public speaker, he had a passion for plants that even rivaled Grumman's obsession with Transfiguration. As he was explaining the fundamentals, he winked at Albus and Rose (As Neville Longbottom was a friend of their parents.)

Rose, it seemed, had a knack for the subject. Their first task, repotting Flixweed plants, was an utter disaster for most students, but Rose managed to complete it on her first try. She beamed as Professor Longbottom awarded her fifteen points for Ravenclaw.

I only got ten for Transfiguring my quill. Albus inwardly grumbled.

Thursday classes started late in the day, due to the Astronomy classes held at midnight every Wednesday. The class was taught by Agatha Sinistra, a dark skinned lady who was very tall and very thin, and the daughter of the Professor Aurora Sinistra who taught their parents. She seemed to live a nocturnal life, as none of the students had seen her around the school since the Sorting ceremony. They spent the class looking at maps and identifying every constellation they could recognize. The muggle born children seemed to be better at finding the patterns in the night skies than those from wizarding families, who had most likely grown up with star charts instead of actually looking outside.

The last class the school had to offer, Defense Against the Dark Arts, was taught by Nigel Wolpert. Professor Wolpert had mousy brown hair, a round face, and was overly enthusiastic. Most students didn't take him seriously upon first glance until he flew Carson Nelson around the room by his ankles for sticking his gum under the desk.

On the Friday of their first week came the class everyone most anticipated: flying lessons.

All first years attend periodic broomstick lessons over the course of the year. A previous Quidditch player for the Gryffindor Quidditch team, Alicia Nanther, previously Alicia Spinnet, taught the lessons once a week. The inclusion of regular quidditch lessons were only included after some of the muggle parents demanded that sports take a more active role in wizarding curriculum.

All the Slytherins stuck together in a pack, and ran up to meet the Gryffindors on the Quidditch Pitch for their lesson. In the middle of the field was Madame Nanther, and a bag full of school broomsticks.

"You would think," Scorpius whispered to Albus as they gathered around the teacher. "That they would stop putting Gryffindors and Slytherins in classes together."

"It's probably intentional to try and force us to get along." Albus whispered back. "But in that case, the better you know them, the better you know what to hate."

"Hello first years!" Madame Nanther cut into their conversation. The group of students looked up at the cheerful teacher. "You are here to discover the magic of the wizarding sport of Quidditch! I can see you're all itching to go, so go ahead and choose a broom from that pile over there, one at a time please, no need to rush, you'll all get one."

Albus, who already knew a little bit about flying, grabbed the best two brooms he could see in the pile amongst the scrambling kids, handing one to Scorpius and keeping one for himself. Looking at the instrument made him slightly sick; he had never liked flying as much as his father had. Scorpius had never flown before, though his father did teach him the rules of Quidditch when he was younger.

Madame Nanther, with the help of a silencing charm and strong leadership skills, managed to organize the first years in a line as she showed them the proper grip for a broomstick. Albus didn't pay close attention. He knew the exact way to hold broomsticks, the name of almost every quidditch move known to wizard kind, and the names of all the members of all the popular teams. However, he had never been good at the actual sport.

This wasn't for lack of trying. His father taught him and James both how to fly a broomstick, but Al, who didn't have a knack for the sport, never learned to enjoy it. He studied all the quidditch textbooks he could in the hopes he could learn, but as his aunt Hermione told him, books could only get him so far in that field. Albus tried practicing on his own, but it didn't end well. He lied to his father and told him he really did like flying, and that he was getting better, but he managed to put off showing Harry what he had "improved on" until he had left the house for Hogwarts.

Madame Nanther started calling all the students up one by one to show them how to hover off the ground, leaving the rest of them to socialize with those of their houses.

"Hey!" One of the Slytherins called out, before chucking a gobstone at one of the Gryffindor boys. The boy wasted no time in picking it back up and throwing it back at the Slytherins. Scorpius managed the catch the gobstone before it hit anyone else, except at that point so many other various objects were being tossed, and so many students jeering, it didn't make much of a difference.

The fighting finally stopped when Ferris Miller's shoe his Madame Nanther in the head, and he had to move to the back of the queue for his turn on a broom, earning him laughs from the other house.

Scorpius seemed to have a natural talent for flying, as he had lost control in the hovering exercise and ended up flying upward twenty feet. As Madame Nanther was having a heart attack from the worry, he flew a circle around the group of students and landed down where he started (earning him some nervous Gryffindors for his potential quidditch skills.) Laughing, Scorpius punched Albus on the shoulder when his turn came up, and he looked like he might faint.

"You're Albus Potter, aren't you?" Madame Nanther asked with a smile. "Your father and I were on the team together. He was a natural. It's a pleasure to meet you." Albus nodded politely, though her words made him anxious. No doubt she would expect him to be just as good.

Madame Nanther shot a confused glance at Al's Slytherin colored tie, but said nothing as she showed him how to mount. Telling him to kick off from the ground, Albus's broom decided it didn't feel up to flying, and he fell flat on his face. The Gryffindors were having a field day.

Once he did manage to get into the air, shaky though he was, his broom gave out again. This time, thankfully, he landed mostly on his feet.

After everyone had cycled through their turn on the broomsticks, the group was instructed to stand in a circle and practice hovering as a group. In the chaos it took for the first years to form a coherent shape, Albus ended up being smashed between a Slytherin named Amanda Polenta and a Gryffindor boy, Silas Ramsay.

Madame Nanther went around correcting stances and grips before telling everyone to kick off.

"Lean forward if you want to come down, until then, try and maintain a steady hover for as long as you can." The students exchanged nervous glances at each other. "If any of you start to lose control, come down immediately."

"Otherwise we'll end up like Professor Longbottom." Someone from across the circle whispered, and the group snickered. Madame Nanther pretended not to hear.

"On my mark, ready, kick!" She called out.

Most of the students actually managed to stay afloat, some shakier than others. Scorpius seemed to be the most comfortable, though his broom still jerked a bit. Albus seemed to be caught in a duel with his broom over staying steady.

The Gryffindors were somewhat resentful of Albus, as they felt they had been cheated out of the son of Harry Potter, Because of this, they immensely enjoyed watching Albus struggle. In fact, they liked it so much, that Silas decided to "lose control" of his broom, and bash up against Al's shoulder, also knocking over Amanda Polenta in the process. Amidst the domino tumble, Albus pulled up on his broom out of instinct. The broom became a bit overexcited, and dashed forward. Al's robe got on Amanda's hair in the process, pulling her, shrieking, five feet off the ground before he flipped over and landed painfully on his head, falling away into unconsciousness.


"It's been a day now, when will he wake up?" Rose asked. Scorpius shrugged.

"Who would have thought he'd be so bad at flying." He said, scrawling down his History of Magic homework as he waited by his friend's beside.

The hospital wing was a small, white room. It had a dozen beds lying along the walls and pale curtains surrounding the beds. Albus, having knocked himself out on his broomstick, was lying in the hospital wing with the school healer, Mister Watson, tending to his bruised head. Scorpius had come with Madame Nanther to deliver him to the hospital.

As rumors in Hogwarts do, news of Albus spread fast. He was, after all, the first in both sides of his family to be bad at quidditch. As such, Rose found herself also in the hospital wing to assess her cousin's condition. This let Scorpius and Rose joined together in mutual confusion and exasperation at their friend's lack of talent.

In reality, Rose almost found it fun to do exactly what her father didn't want her too, which was make friends with a Malfoy. Although, some of the excitement in being rebellious was taken away when Scorpius turned out to be incredibly boring.

Scorpius wasn't adventurous, troublesome, daring, snarky, or anything Rose expected of him. He was perfectly polite whenever she spoke to him, quite conscientious of his grades, and very concerned about his bedridden friend. If anyone needed a knight in shining armor, he would be the one to call. But for a mysterious bad boy to carry on his family reputation? Not a chance in hell. It was slightly disappointing, though they did get along rather well. Even if the most interesting thing he said within the two hours was him wondering aloud if it would be possible to get a better History of Magic teacher (an idea with which Rose wholeheartedly agreed.)

When Albus awoke, he found them playing a muggle card game of poker with Al's chocolate frog cards as chips. Luckily, none of his cards had been harmed, though he was a bit insulted that they didn't care as much about his welfare as they did for his use as a supplier of poker currency.

"Oh, look, you're awake!" Scorpius said as Albus looked around for his reading glasses, and Rose swept in Scorpius's entire bank chocolate frog cards. "How's your head?"

"Um, not too bad. What happened?" Albus asked, rubbing his eyes to wake himself up.

"Don't rub your eyes, it's bad for them." Rose warned. "The story went around the school within a couple of hours. You flipped over on your broom, and landed on your head. But you'll be happy to know that Silas Ramsay got week's detention for it." Al gave a weak smile.

"You two are hitting it off, aren't you?" He mentioned as Scorpius packed up the muggle playing cards.

"I wouldn't say that." Rose laughed. "He'll need to get better at cards before I can fully accept him." She picked up her bags, and before leaving, turned to say, "Now that you're awake, I should be heading back to my common room, I have homework to do." Without another word, she was gone.

"Lovely girl." Scorpius sarcastically remarked, though he was smiling as he said it. "I can't believe you two are related, you're nothing alike."

Albus tried standing up, but fell back down on the bed in the process. "Yeah, well, she inherited a lot of her dad. So...the school heard about what happened?"

Another voice that didn't belong to Scorpius cut in. "Naturally." Said Mr Watson as he limped in the room with a bottle of skele-grow in his hand. "Never doubt the Hogwarts rumor mill." Setting the skele-grow down, he walked over to Albus, waved his wand around Al's head, and smiled.

"You seem to be fine, all you needed was a little rest. You should best get back to your common room before it gets too late to finish your homework." He said.

Albus sighed. "That's right, there's still the essay on sphinx inauguration."

"I've finished, you can look at mine if you need help." Scorpius offered as they left the hospital wing. Albus nodded gratefully as they continued their trek towards the dungeons.


Dear Mom and Dad,

My first week at Hogwarts has been good so far. I don't know how much James has told you, but he's probably drastically morphed his description.

I named my owl Hohenheim, after my Paracelcus chocolate frog card. The one Uncle Ron gave me, remember?

I was sorted into Slytherin.

I know, don't say anything. I was only put in the house because the sorting hat called me "boring" and said I had very few attributes to work with.

As it turns out, the house isn't all that bad. I've even made a couple of friends, they seem to be really nice. The Gryffindors are the awful ones (no offense.) A Gryffindor knocked me off a broomstick during flying lessons, and landed me in the hospital wing earlier today. I'm sorry if my letter seems detached; it's really late and I'm having trouble thinking correctly. I keep thinking I need to tell you about the sphinx inaugurations we had to write about for History of Magic.

Your son,

Albus