Disclaimers and other info in Prologue
Sufficiently Advanced Technology...
...is indistinguishable from magic. – Arthur C. Clarke
CHAPTER 13: New Subjects, Part II: Muggle Magic
The Gryffindor and Slytherin sixth-years collected in the corridor outside the Muggle Sciences classroom first thing after breakfast Friday morning. As she listened to Lavender Brown breathlessly describing the latest issue of Witch Weekly, Hermione glanced up to see Draco Malfoy approaching, Crabbe and Goyle shadowing him as usual. She returned her attention to Lavender, intending to ignore Malfoy, but a moment later he made that impossible.
"Bet you're really looking forward to this class, Granger," he drawled. "Right up your alley, I should think. Muggle Sciences...what rot! Mudblood Superstitions, more like!"
Hermione's cheeks reddened at the insult to her non-magic parentage, but she refused to give him the satisfaction of a reply. Ron was about to give a hot retort, but abruptly shut his mouth without saying anything. Malfoy's smirk broadened at this apparent display of submission, and he opened his mouth to deliver another cutting remark.
"Would you care to elaborate on your description of my class?"
Malfoy jumped a foot off the ground at the sound of the deep voice just behind him. He spun around to find a pair of cold, glacier-blue eyes staring down at him. He tried to sneer, but the professor's eyes narrowed, and Malfoy suddenly found it impossible to maintain his rude expression. He dimly sensed Crabbe and Goyle sidling away, obviously trying to avoid Bruce's attention.
"I'm waiting." Bruce's eyes were still locked on Malfoy's.
"Umm... I was just... just saying that... that Granger should do really well in this class, sir, because... because she's Muggle-born herself, and... and..." Malfoy's uncharacteristic stammer trailed off as Bruce's eyes iced over.
"Try again."
Malfoy took a deep breath, his mind racing for a plausible story. But just as he opened his mouth–
"The truth this time." Bruce's interjection had the desired effect of derailing Malfoy's thoughts completely, so that he blurted out his real opinion.
"Only Mudbloods like Granger would think there's anything useful that a Muggle could teach a wizard!"
Bruce frowned.
"You obviously had something you felt was of higher importance than listening to the Headmaster last night, Mr. ..."
"Malfoy."
"Malfoy, what?"
"Malfoy, sir."
"...Mr. Malfoy. And you also haven't paid attention in your History of Magic classes. At the next class, you will present me with five rolls of parchment detailing Muggle contributions to the field of wizardry."
Malfoy's mouth fell open. He was so shocked that he again blurted out the first thing that came to his mind.
"Muggle contributions... what Muggle contributions? How am I going to fill five rolls of parchment with something that doesn't exist?"
Bruce smiled, and Malfoy felt a shudder travel down his spine.
"I'm sure you'll find a way – if you intend to pass this class."
Bruce turned to the rest of the class, dismissing Malfoy from his attention.
"Now, ladies and gentlemen, if you will join me, we will explore some of the things that Muggles were able to teach wizards." He opened the classroom door and walked inside. The students silently straggled after him, the Gryffindors trying with all their might to control snickers.
Bruce went to the front of the classroom, and called the roll while the students were taking seats at the polished granite tables. Then he began his lesson.
"Today we will create a fire from a mixture of three rocks." Most of the students looked blankly at him. Pavarti raised her hand timidly.
"Yes, Miss Patil?"
"Umm... Professor Thomson... sir... rocks don't burn. At least... I don't think they do." Bruce smiled at her.
"Let's find out, shall we? You will need the following equipment." He turned to write the list on the chalkboard. The students dug the required mortar, pestle, flint, steel, scales, scoop, stirring rod, dragonhide gloves, and four crucibles out of their bags, laid them on their tabletops, and waited.
"Many scientists, Muggle and wizard alike, have lost their sight through carelessness." He looked sternly around the room, and his voice deepened warningly. "I do not intend that any student of mine will take that risk. The first step in any experiment is putting on your eye protection. You will find a pair of safety goggles on the table in front of you. Please put them on." He set the example, putting on the clear quartz lenses set in a soft rubber frame. When everyone had their goggles on, he continued.
"We are going to create a flammable mixture of graphite, saltpeter, and sulfur. Everyone please come to the front table and take one sample of each mineral. Take them back to your tables, examine them carefully, and write your observations in your notes." He set out three labeled bowls, each containing a number of peach-pit-sized rocks.
After obtaining his samples, Harry scrutinized them closely. The three rocks were quite different from each other. The saltpeter was a whitish crystal, while the sulfur was bright yellow, and smelled strongly of rotten eggs. The graphite had a silvery-gray sheen to it, and felt slightly greasy to the touch.
Bruce waited until the students had finished writing.
"Put your dragonhide gloves on, and using your flint and steel, strike a spark onto each sample and note the results. Do not put your hands, faces, or clothing directly over the sample." Harry scraped the roughened strip of steel across his chunk of flint, letting sparks fall onto each of the rocks in turn. Nothing happened.
He tried again. Still nothing.
"Professor?" It was Dean Thomas. "Was something supposed to happen?"
"What did you observe happening, Mr. Thomas?"
"Umm..." The professor was obviously waiting for an answer, so Dean screwed up his courage.
"Nothing, sir." He waited breathlessly for the burst of sarcasm he was sure would follow.
"Then that is what you record in your notes." Dean looked confused.
"Nothing, sir?"
"You note that nothing happened when a spark was applied to the sample," Bruce clarified. "Always record exactly what you observe. Nothing more, nothing less. This is one of the cornerstones of science.
"Now, use your mortar and pestle to grind each sample to a fine powder. Place each powder in a separate crucible. You do not want any cross-contamination, so be sure to thoroughly clean your mortar and pestle between samples." The students set to work.
... ... ... ... ...... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...
"Strike a spark into each of your crucibles, and record the results."
Harry again scraped steel across flint and watched sparks fall onto the powdered rock. Again, nothing happened. He looked over at Tim, his expression puzzled – this was not what he had expected from Bruce's class.
Tim grinned at him, and mouthed, "Wait for it." Harry shrugged.
By now the class was starting to get restless.
"Carefully measure out the following amounts into the fourth crucible, and mix thoroughly." Bruce turned to the chalkboard, wrote the proper proportions to use, and waited for the students to comply.
"Strike a spark and record your results." His mouth quirked in a half-smile as he listened to the sighs of exasperation.
Whoooosh!
"WHOA!"
Yells of surprise echoed around the room as the powder erupted into geysers of white-hot flames. Stunned silence ensued, followed by delighted applause.
"Can we do it again?!" they begged. Bruce smiled.
"Go ahead. Test different proportions of the three ingredients and see what happens." The students repeated the process multiple times, seeing that some combinations created flame, some fizzled, and some resulted in nothing whatever. Finally Bruce called their attention to the front again.
"You've seen what happens to the mixture in an open container. Now let me demonstrate what happens when you confine it. Come here, please." He waited for the students to gather around the demonstration table, before laying out a piece of thin parchment.
"This mixture is in the same proportions you used the first time," he said, scooping a quantity of it into the center of the parchment. He laid one end of a length of fine cord onto the small heap of powder. Then he carefully folded the parchment tightly around the powder, keeping the end of the cord firmly in place. He picked up the parchment and cord and placed them in a transparent, open-topped cylinder, trailing the cord out of the container and across the table. Picking up the flint and steel, he struck a spark to the loose end of the cord. The cord caught fire, and the flame traveled along the cord to the parchment package.
KABOOOM!!!
The deafening explosion shook dust down from the rafters.
"This is known as black powder, or gunpowder," Bruce said quietly into the shocked silence. "It changed the history of the world." Then his eyes grew cold, and his expression became forbidding. He looked around, catching every student's eyes, before he spoke again.
"These procedures are to be conducted in this laboratory, under my direct supervision only," he said, slowly and clearly. His voice had dropped to a menacing rumble. "Be assured that if any experimentation takes place under any other circumstances, I shall be aware of it, and There. Will. Be. Consequences. Is that clear?" He looked around again, as every head nodded in emphatic agreement.
"Good. Clean up your equipment, and you are dismissed."
TO BE CONTINUED...