The Sorcerer's Companion: A Guide to the Magical World of Harry Potter (68 page)

While the goals of alchemy may seem far-fetched to modern minds, to its ancient and medieval practitioners alchemy made perfect sense. According to the theories of the early Greek philosophers, which were widely believed until the dawn of modern science, everything in the physical world was composed of one underlying substance called “first matter.” First matter could exhibit different qualities and characteristics, but essentially there was only one basic “stuff.” Moreover, all matter was thought to be alive. Metals and minerals as well as plants and animals were said to contain a “universal spirit,” or lifeforce, which the ancient philosophers called
pneuma
(from the Greek word meaning “breath” or “wind”).

Given this understanding of the physical world, alchemists saw no reason why they could not begin with base metals such as iron or tin, reduce the metals to the condition of first matter (by heating them in furnaces and treating them with acids and reagents), and then cause the first matter to reform as gold. The alchemists of ancient Greece and Egypt believed they could trigger the transformation by adding a small amount of real gold to the alchemical brew where it would act as a seed and, being alive, grow into a larger quantity of gold, using the first matter as a nutrient. The medieval alchemists, on the other hand, believed that as they heated their mixtures, the pneuma contained in them would be released in the form of a gas which, along with other vapors, could be captured in distilling apparatus and converted to liquid form. By continually refining and distilling this liquid many hundreds of times—perhaps even for years—the alchemists believed they would eventually end up with an extraordinarily potent, purified, concentrated essence of
pneuma
. This was the fabled Philosopher’s Stone. When added to first matter it would, in theory at least, cause the matter to transmute into its most perfect form, gold. Taken as an elixir, being the essence of life-force, it would cure all disease and lead to eternal life.

A clear demonstration of gold making was the best way for a fraudulent alchemist to prove he had a genuine piece of the Sorcerer’s Stone. Many clever swindles were devised for this purpose, but the most convincing method allowed the prospective buyer to actually see the transmutation taking place. This was not as difficult as it might seem. A very impressive demonstration, no doubt staged in some out-of-the-way, makeshift laboratory, looked like this:

The trickster alchemist poured a small amount of mercury into a crucible (a porcelain bowl used for melting metals) and heated it in a furnace. With a dramatic flourish, he next produced a small tube of red powder, said to be the potent Sorcerer’s Stone. Adding a tiny pinch to the mercury—no more than would fit on the head of a pin—he stirred the mixture, continuing to apply heat. While many alchemical processes took weeks or months, this one took only minutes. Soon the mercury could be seen mysteriously changing color, from silver to gold. When removed from the heat and allowed to cool, it solidified into a gleaming nugget. Amazingly, anyone with expertise could verify that the new substance did not just look like gold—it was gold!

The secret of this apparent transmutation involved a clever combination of chemistry and trickery. The chemistry lay in the fact that mercury has a much lower boiling point than gold. The trickery lay in the innocent-looking rod used to stir the ingredients. Although it appeared to be a solid piece of black metal, it was actually a hollow tube into which the swindler had previously placed a small quantity of powdered gold. A plug of blackened wax sealed the end of the rod and kept the gold in place. As the mercury was heated and stirred, the wax melted and allowed the gold to trickle into the crucible where it mixed with the mercury. As the heat intensified, the mercury evaporated into the interior of the furnace, leaving behind the gold, and perhaps a trace of “the Stone,” which might have been nothing more than a bit of colored chalk. The Stone was then sold at an appropriately high price, and the bogus alchemist skipped town.

otions take a while to brew and herbs take time to grow, but a spell can be cast in an instant. Ron uses a levitating spell to knock out a mountain
troll
with its own club. An unlocking spell enables Hermione to enter a forbidden corridor. And, of course, Harry disarms many an enemy with his “signature” spell,
expelliarmus
. Spells are powerful tools that affect people, animals, objects, and even places. Indeed, all of Hogwarts is under a spell that makes it look like a crumbling old ruin to the non-wizarding world.

Naturally, the magical spells of literature produce the most dramatic results. But real people in almost every culture have also believed in the power of spells to influence human behavior and alter the course of events. In the ancient world, professional
wizards
made a good living casting spells to help their clients find love, harm enemies (a negative spell is called a
“curse”
), gain wealth, cure illness, excel at sports, chase rats from the house, or cancel out the effect of incoming spells cast by rival wizards. “Do-it-yourself” spells were also performed by amateurs. Spells were everywhere, and even one of the most skeptical writers of first-century Rome admitted that “there is no one who is not afraid of spells and incantations.”

A spell is a spoken or written word or phrase meant to have a magical effect. Most spells consist of incantations in which the desired outcome (such as money, health, or fame) is clearly stated, repeated many times, and accompanied by a ritual, such as lighting a candle, burning incense, and pointing or gesturing. Some ancient Egyptians copied spells onto papyrus, dissolved them in beer, and drank them. Ancient Greek and Roman wizards created spells while spinning a wheel known as a “rhombus” or “iynx wheel” (see
Jinx
). Depending upon the culture, a spell might include the use of
magic words
or a plea for assistance from a deity. Some spells were sung or chanted. The entire magical procedure, from start to finish, is often known as “casting” or “weaving” a spell.

Spells intended to influence the behavior of another person—such as love spells, healing spells, and curses—were thought to be most effective if a snippet of the target’s hair, a fingernail clipping, or a piece of clothing or some other personal item could be incorporated into the ceremony. This reflects an ancient belief that things that were once physically connected—a woman and her fingernails, for example—retain a “magical” connection even when separated by miles. In the absence of such an item, words could be used to make the link between the ritual and the target. “As I melt this wax,” says a love spell from the first century, “so may his heart melt for me. As I burn these herbs, so may his passions burn for me. As I knot this thread, so may he be tied to me.” Spell casting also sometimes involved the use of wax or clay figurines or stuffed dolls made to represent the recipient of the spell. In a love spell, the figure might be wrapped with thread so as to “bind” the love of the target to the enchanter. In the case of a healing spell, the doll might be stuffed with medicinal herbs. If the spell was intended to harm (see
Dark Arts
), the figure would be damaged.