"My dear young chap," Dr. Van Helsing said, leading him down the corridors. "I am very pleased to show you our department as it has been a great while since the Headmistress looked so pleased sending a prospective student my way. I hear your future employer would benefit more if you pursue Legilimency. To that I say: Pouf !" He snapped his fingers at Draco. "You and I shall disprove him before the end of the day. What would Tom Riddle"--the professor pointed at nothing in particular like he was chastising an incompetent student--"know what's best for promising young wizards? He has his madmen to play with and those lacking in higher education to impress. But he has no wife. No children. What does he know of shaping young minds? So, fling him from your mind for the day, while you and I have a little talk all to ourselves."
Considering that Draco had no desire whatsoever to dwell upon dear old Tommy's wishes, he strolled along the halls of the Alchemy department. Their astronomy tower was impressive, almost reminding him of the scientific marvel Granger had once shown him during their French Christmas holiday. He was impressed by the instruments in place to keep track of astronomical events crucial for the brewing of alchemic potions. Arithmancy had never been his strong suit. Draco despised doing the calculations required for tracking the movement of planets and stars, alongside harvesting potion ingredients, and setting the pace of the brew. A lot of the equipment here handled the entirety of the math involved in potion making. This fixed most of what frustrated him during Alchemy lessons in school. Dr. Van Helsing explained how they foraged for ingredients on the estate, and how the ingredients that weren't compatible with the climate, were grown in the beautiful conservatory. The labs were quite remarkable as well.
After a tour of the department, he was introduced to some of the promising students for examples of what was possible with alchemy. "That's Basil Hallward," Dr. Van Helsing introduced him to a shy boy working with a canvas and some paints."
"Hello," Draco said. "Are you an artist as well?"
"Sort of," Basil replied, seeming quite uncomfortable about being put on the spot.
Dr. Van Helsing stepped in to explain, "Our dear Basil here is working on brewing magical paint, capturing not just a sentient likeness of a person, but one that suffers the brunt of illness and aging, while the person in question enjoys eternal youth and remain in the pink of health."
"That's not possible," Draco replied.
Basil glared at him, offended. "Moving pictures were once impossible. Sentient moving paintings were considered impossible only a couple of centuries ago."
Dr. Van Helsing carted Draco away from the painter. "And what are you up to today, Frankenstein," he asked, slapping the boy in question on his back, shaking him out of his ruminations over the countless books scattered in front of him.
A group of boys, reminding Draco of his gang back at Hogwarts, yelled out from the opposite end of the room, "Building a bear." They all burst out laughing. "Can't seem to get laid the old fashioned way, eh, Frankie?"
The boy gathered his books and ran away muttering under his breath.
"Never mind that," Dr. Van Helsing said, turning to Draco, his cheeks red as tomatoes now.
Draco met many other students working on many fascinating projects. Introductions were made to every professor in the department, leading to several intellectually stimulating exchanges that managed to breathe newfound life into him. The experience that stuck the most with Draco was a professor they ran into close to the end of their tour. He seemed like a very nice man. Too nice. It was creepy just how nice and saccharine the man's personality appeared to be on the surface. No one was that nice. That kind. That wonderful. He had a great reputation on campus as well. Everybody loved him. He was simply too likable not to be loved by everyone. Something felt off. Draco could feel it in his guts. No one was meant to be universally loved, to such a degree, not even a Hufflepuff on steroids.
"Butterfly pea flower extract and phosphorus? Whatever for, Jekyll," Dr. Van Helsing asked, studying the potion ingredients the good professor dropped into the cauldron, turning the mysterious concoction to go from purple to green.
The good professor waved dismissively at them before standing between them and his cauldron, lips stretching into a big warm smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "Hyde. Jekyll Hyde."
