There was one enormous pumpkin sitting in the middle of the classroom.  It was too large for the table to hold, with the current burden of lesser pumpkins.  The cut off stem ended a few inches below Leopold's left ear as he stood beside it.  He'd managed to get one of the larger pumpkins out of the herbology pumpkin patch, in exchange for promising to assist with a later project.

"Take your seats, please," Leopold said.  "We'll be working with pumpkins for the entire week.  As you are no doubt aware, pumpkins feature in a number of fairy tales.  Cinderella and the Headless Horseman, to name just two.  In both cases pumpkins are transfigured, into a coach in one case and into an incendiary in the other.  Now, I can't exactly teach you how to make explosives but I can teach you something that will produce the affect without the potential for injury."

Casey was apt to file this under 'Sandusky's usual gimmicks' on the O'Doherty scale of useful information. Incendiary pumpkins would actually be interesting as a means of deterring visitors during Halloween. Note to self: figure this out for backup seasonal security for mother's cottage. But cheery holiday themed assignments were never anything that interested Casey. It wasn't as if this specifically would appear on the OWLs.

"Why do the muggles call them fairy tales when half of them don't even contain any species of fairy?" He had heard of Cinderella but not the Headless Horseman. Well, it didn't sound like a proper ghost of the headless hunt if a flaming pumpkin was involved. Casey wondered what was in it for a witch to transfigure a carriage out of a pumpkin for peasantry to attend balls with the nobility. Though the six hour time limit sounded like shoddy spell casting or insidious planning.

Giving the size of Hagrid's pumpkins, all that was needed to turn them into carriages was a carving and a set of wheels. If Professor Sandusky had gone that route, instead of these smaller varieties.

Alvis peered at the huge pumpkin, adjusted his glasses, and added an extra ridge to the sketching he'd made on his otherwise blank parchment page. He made sure to leave room for additional notes as well as an 'after' sketch, the lifted his head in interest at Casey's (mostly rhetorical) question.

"Cinderella's got a fairy. Of a sort." Alvis tapped his quill thoughtfully against his nose, ignorant of the tiny ink splashes that got left behind. "And the Headless Horseman's a kind of dullahan, I think. At least, that was the theory I heard. An American cousin that throws flaming pumpkins instead of blood."

Could fairies have American cousins? Alvis reigned in that thought before his mind could wander away. He absently dipped his quill into the ink again and put the finishing touches on his pumpkin sketch, adding a hint of orange to the shade. He wasn't sure where the class was going yet, but he was interested nonetheless.

"Very good, Mr Norling,"  Leopold said.  "Five points for Ravenclaw.  Although technically the subject of the unseelie fae is more suited for Defense Against the Dark Arts or possibly Care of Magical Creatures, you are correct that the American Headless Horseman of Sleepy Hollow is related to the dulluhan.  As you indicated there are some differences but we won't concern ourselves with them too deeply."

Leopold turned to face Casey.  "You will discover, Mr O'Doherty, that there are a number of things in life that do not contain what the name would lead you to expect to find.  Sheperd's pie, for example, does not contain shepherd.   Horse radish is poisonous to horses.  They are called faerie tales not because they contain faeries but because they are concerned with magic in some way.  Quite a few of them actually involve transfigurations."

Zoe didn't really like Professor Sandusky. Ever since the class Naomi walked out the Ravenclaw just didn't like the professor as much. This class wasn't much different. Explosive pumpkins? Halloween pranks seemed to be the only useful use. The young witch was sure better explosives were available at Zonko's.

Still, Zoe couldn't help but feel happier when Casey was given stern words to by Sandusky. Yet, she couldn't help thinking it was odd for Alvis to get points for an off-topic contribution. She might as well try to add something as well, if he was handing out points like that.

"I'm pretty sure the reason they are called fairy tales is that in France, where the term came from, the type of story often contained a fairy, but I could be wrong. I do know that the 'fairy tale' came from 'contes des fées'." When it came to muggle things, fantasy literature was probably what Zoe was most interested in. It was things like fairy tales that the young witch really knew about.

You will discover, Mr O'Doherty, that there are a number of things in life that do not contain what the name would lead you to expect to find.  Sheperd's pie, for example, does not contain shepherd.   Horse radish is poisonous to horses.  They are called faerie tales not because they contain faeries but because they are concerned with magic in some way.  Quite a few of them actually involve transfigurations."

Distracted by the thought of a horse being in some way a radish - with a green leafy mane and tail, Ambrose missed what Zoe had said and instead chuckled,

"Spotted dick... haha, bet that's a surprise to you too Casey."

The thing about that was he'd not only interrupted the more intellectual responses, but he'd said it rather louder than he'd intended. Upon realising, he dropped his wand, and promptly the pumpkin on his desk began to deflate like a balloon. Above it, Ambrose's face turned slowly more crimson to clash with the vegetable's colour.

"I take it you are familiar with most of the stories Miss Torrent?"  Leopold asked.  He didn't comment on Ambrose's deflation of the pumpkin, he simply tapped it with his own wand and re-inflated it.  "How is your knowledge of the more obscure ones, such as the tale of Cinderfella?  Many are aware of Cinderella but not many have heard of her male counterpart."

For some odd reason Leopold always had difficulty with the fourth year class.  They seemed entirely resistant to his sense of humour and many acted as if they had a grudge against him.  He didn't allow it to colour his teaching in any way.  His task was to educate them, not make friends with them.  It would have made teaching easier but it was not essential.  He would treat them with no bias, no matter what their opinion.  If they paid attention and participated appropriately, they would be rewarded.  If not, they would suffer the consequences.

Casey wondered if this was information Sandusky really thought that fourth years should know or if his pattern of over explaining things was from conversations with the dampest and most literal minded members of his house.

Zoe spouted some kind of nonsense, must be relating to how the Torrets' had French ancestry that Zoe had told him about. Well, 'not him.'

"Spotted dick... haha, bet that's a surprise to you too Casey."

Casey turned to Pepper with what he hoped was a disgusted and irked expression. He knew spotted dick was that dumb dessert you saw in the Great Hall during special feasts sometimes...but for the way that had been phrased...

Casey opened his mouth, closed it silently as his face began to blanch and returned to his default sitting position. Staring ahead but not focused on any particular feature of the room he sat with a newly realized private horror, the skin of his face drawn back as if he was clammy from a sickness. The sudden alienated feeling as if he shouldn't be here soaked through his entire being. Nothing else in the classroom seemed to matter but the self-reflective notice of how he was feeling very uncomfortable...

Well, even if he had sent a retort back to Ambrose that might have gotten him in trouble.

How was it that Ambrose always put his foot in his mouth? It was probably the dumbest and most immature responce someone may have given. Zoe couldn't help but roll her eyes. He deserved the look she saw Casey give him.

"'Torret', sir, not 'Torrent'." The young witch's face blushed. "But yes. We have quite a lot of them in my family library." What used to have been a garage in the Torret house was now a library and Edward's workshop. "Myths and legends as well."

The next question puzzled her. What did this have to do with anything? "Wouldn't that be more of a parody than an obscure fairy tale? We have a couple books of parody fairy tales, though not Cinderfella. Sounds like an American thing. Those parodies usually are."

Pausing, the Ravenclaw asked what she had been thinking. "Excuse my asking Professor, but what does Cinderfella have to do with transfiguring pumpkins into explosives?" At least she could attempt to learn something in this class period.

"It is simply a way of passing the time waiting for the rest of the class to arrive, Miss Torret," Leopold explained.  "My apologies for the error in your name.  And Cinderfella is hardly a parody.  From a position similar to Cinderella he rises to the challenge and claims a princess who sits on top of a glass hill that is too slippery to climb.  I'll try and find a copy for you."

He looked at the classroom that was almost half full.  "I'll give the others a few more minutes, before I start."

It was probably no surprise to anyone that Connor was paying diddly-squat attention since class began.

After Sandusky’s high-handed blundering on the first day of class, the boy had stopped giving a fig about the man and his lessons. You could put it nicely or any whatever way you pleased, the professor had been dumb, in Connor’s opinion; he’d seemed honestly at a loss as to why Naomi left, but even teacher’s pet Torret had gotten it. That just went to show that no matter how teacherly you thought you were, it didn’t mean you were actually any good at it.

So, as the rest of the class nattered on about fairy tales and confused princesses and—

at this, he’d snorted loudly

—spotted dicks, the fourteen-year-old had been doing his own thing, such as focusing on the pumpkin before him. The biggest pink hippogryff in the room notwithstanding (Explosives? What? What does that have to do with Transfiguration? Saying something was ‘transfigured’ into a bomb was a bit of a stretch, wasn’t it?), the boy was just sitting there, looking half-asleep as he idly contemplated how well purple ink would stand out against the gourd’s orange hull… and wondered what an old, pureblood codger like Sandusky would know about Muggle fairy tales.

This class was weird.

If this was how time was going to be passed before class, Kelvin made a mental note not to be early anymore.   Muggle fairy tales at least the ones his father had shared didn't interest him near as much as wizard fairy tales did.  He hoped they wouldn't have to talk about muggle stories for all the transfigurations lessons from then on; Eurodisney had been fun, disneyfied fairytales not so much.  And he had almost said out loud that exploding food tended to be caused by charms or occasionally potions, but caught himself as he'd started to open his mouth.  No sense in starting off another lesson by correcting the professor.  They'd problem end up learning how to transfigure the gourd into a giant frozen gourd.

He looked over and saw Connor staring at the pumpkin, looking like he was about to fall asleep. Leaning over Kelvin nudged Connor with his foot.  If he was going to have to endure his formerly favorite class being taught by a wannabe muggle studies professor, then Connor would have to endure it awake.

"Alright then,"  Leopold began as the final few students arrived.  "Is anyone willing to hazard a guess as to what needs to happen to transfigure a normal pumpkin into one that produces an explosive affect?  I'm not asking for the spell that would do it, I'm asking what change would be necessary for the pumpkin to explode."  They were well past the point where transfigurations were simple.  By fourth year, there was significant complexity to what the class had to learn.

With a waved of his wand, Leopold levitated one of the pumpkins and brought it to the front of the class.  It was about the size of a basketball.  "Consider what a pumpkin consists of,"  he continued.  Another wave of his wand caused the pumpkin to split in half and open up like a greeting card, displaying the mass of seeds clinging to the thick walls.  "Outer skin, surrounding a thick layer of flesh.  Inside, a chamber containing seeds that adhere to the flesh with tendrils.  Nothing that you haven't seen before in Herbology.   I'll make it simple.  Which part of the pumpkin needs to be transfigured?"

Professor Sandusky was awfully odd. "Um, alright." If he wanted to give her the book, he could. Zoe would never argue with a new fairytale. Yet this was all useless and rather off-topic talk, the Ravenclaw considered not coming to class as early as she did. Sure, she'd still come to class a little early, never late or running in at the last moment, but the old man wasn't the type of teacher she enjoyed.

At the question, Zoe raised her hand. "Wouldn't it be the pumpkin flesh, sir? If you transfigured it to explode, it would be close enough to the outer skin to break it and it would still send the seeds flying because they are attached to it. If you transfigured the skin, it would explode but the insides wouldn't have the exploding effect and they would be more of a blob then explosion. If you transfigured the seeds it might not be enough to go completely through the layer of flesh and explode the outer skin of the pumpkin." It was a rather long explanation, but insightful answers usually earned more house points.

Naomi had been back to class for about a month now and the class hadn't changed one bit. Sandusky was still as sensitive as ever, and still fantastically weird: what professor in their right mind taught the fourth years to make explosive food? Naomi was sure even some of the second years would see that fatal flaw in this lesson. And then they talked about muggle fairy tales, if Naomi wasn't following her Head of House's orders she might feel the need to take a nap like another certain Ravenclaw.

Still, the witch was in class so she might as well participate. After Torret gave her answer, Naomi added, "Wouldn't it depend on the type of explosion? An explosion is generally by an increase in volume and a release of energy[1], but it can also be caused by impact or a reaction of different materials."

"So you can increase the volume inside the pumpkin and add energy, causing it t' burst from d'i inside out; or you can add energy to the skin or flesh of the pumpkin and and change its material properties until it explodes and increases in volume, like Torret said." Naomi patiently watched and waited for the elder Professor to respond.

1.	Wikipedia: Explosions