ALCH-OWL Lessons

Students are gathered in the Alchemy Laboratory, trying to ease the overall anxious atmosphere in the room by talking to one another. However, the chattering seems to only provide a temporary solution for the anxiety concerning the inevitable doom of the O.W.L. exams. The door opens and everyone in the room falls silent as Professor Rosenquist walks in with an unknown woman in Ministry robes. Despite the woman’s relatively young appearance, her face remains stern and calculating, adding to the students’ nerves. Professor Rosenquist glances around the classroom, noticing the uneasiness of the students, and flashes them a gentle smile.

“Aren’t we talkative today?” she muses, “As you are all aware, officials from the Ministry of Magic will be conducting your O.W.L. exams. I would like to introduce you to Professor Thorpe, who will be overseeing both your theory and practical portions of the Alchemy O.W.L.s. I trust that you all will give her your utmost respect and do the best you can on your exams. On that note, I will now be leaving the room so that you can take your exams in peace. Good luck!” Professor Rosenquist gives Professor Thorpe a nod before leaving the room.

Professor Thorpe glares at the students, sending a chill over the room. She clicks her tongue and pulls out her wand. With a flick, exams from the giant stack in the front of the classroom begin to pass themselves out to the students. When they land on the desks, they are turned over so the students don’t start yet. Once all of the exams are passed out, Professor Thorpe puts her wand up to her throat and begins speaking in an amplified volume.

“Listen up kids. This is the theoretical portion of your O.W.L. exam for Alchemy. There are a total of 75 questions on the exam. You may not have the same questions as your neighbor so if you think about cheating, you will have to deal with me. When the time runs out, you will turn your exam in. I don’t care if you are done or not, as you are not to go over the allowed time. I do not have all the time in the world to babysit you in this room. Do I make myself clear?” Professor Thorpe instructs harshly. She looks around the room to see several nods of confirmation and then pulls out a pocket watch. “You may start…” she trails off looking at the watch, “Now.”

Instantly, the sound of parchment being flipped over and the scratching of quills fill the room.