Turbine For other uses, see Turbine (disambiguation).

A steam turbine with

the case opened. A turbine (from the Latin turbo, a vortex, related to the
Greek , tyrb, meaning "turbulence")[1][2] is a rotary mechanical
device that extracts energy from a fluid flow and converts it into useful work.
A turbine is a turbomachine with at least one moving part called a rotor
assembly, which is a shaft or drum with blades attached. Moving fluid acts on
the blades so that they move and impart rotational energy to the rotor. Early
turbine examples are windmills and waterwheels. Gas, steam, and water
turbines have a casing around the blades that contains and controls the
working fluid. Credit for invention of the steam turbine is given both to British
engineer Sir Charles Parsons (18541931) for invention of the reaction
turbine, and to Swedish engineer Gustaf de Laval (18451913) for invention
of the impulse turbine. Modern steam turbines frequently employ both
reaction and impulse in the same unit, typically varying the degree of
reaction and impulse from the blade root to its periphery. The word turbine
was coined in 1822 by the French mining engineer Claude Burdin from the
Latin turbo, or vortex, in a memo, Des turbines hydrauliques ou machines
rotatoires grande vitesse, which he submitted to the Acadmie royale des
sciences in Paris.[3] Benoit Fourneyron, a former student of Claude Burdin,
built the first practical water turbine. 1 Operation theory Schematic of
impulse and reaction turbines, where the rotor is the rotating part, and the
stator is the stationary part of the machine. A working fluid contains
potential energy (pressure head) and kinetic energy (velocity head). The fluid
may be compressible or incompressible. Several physical principles are
employed by turbines to collect this energy: Impulse turbines change the
direction of flow of a high velocity fluid or gas jet. The resulting impulse spins
the turbine and leaves the fluid flow with diminished kinetic energy. There is
no pressure change of the fluid or gas in the turbine blades (the moving
blades), as in the case of a steam or gas turbine, all the pressure drop takes
place in the stationary blades (the nozzles). Before reaching the turbine, the
fluids pressure head is changed to velocity head by accelerating the fluid
with a nozzle. Pelton wheels and de Laval turbines use this process
exclusively. Impulse turbines do not require a pressure casement around the
rotor since the fluid jet is created by the nozzle prior to reaching the blades
on the rotor. Newtons 1 2 1 OPERATION THEORY second law describes the
transfer of energy for impulse turbines. Reaction turbines develop torque by
reacting to the gas or fluids pressure or mass. The pressure of the gas or
fluid changes as it passes through the turbine rotor blades. A pressure
casement is needed to contain the working fluid as it acts on the turbine
stage(s) or the turbine must be fully immersed in the fluid flow (such as with
wind turbines). The casing contains and directs the working fluid and, for
water turbines, maintains the suction imparted by the draft tube. Francis
turbines and most steam turbines use this concept. For compressible working
fluids, multiple turbine stages are usually used to harness the expanding gas
efficiently. Newtons third law describes the transfer of energy for reaction
turbines. In the case of steam turbines, such as would be used for marine

applications or for land-based electricity generation, a Parsons type reaction

turbine would require approximately double the number of blade rows as a
de Laval type impulse turbine, for the same degree of thermal energy
conversion.
FUUUUUCCCKKK, he growled as Lucius continued to apply pressure, smiling
to see the reaction hed pulled from Harry.
The bastard was pure fucking evil, Harry thought. Furious that he couldnt
stay silent any longer, but he wasnt screaming yet either, so he was
counting it as a win in his column, for now, anyway. But he really did wish
Lucius had his wand back right now, or just wished he wasnt so good with a
damned knife.
I wish I wish Tom hadnt taken it from Oh, God f... from you, too I
really do, Harry taunted, panting in pain. You have uuhhhnnnn, he
grunted as the knife was wrenched still further, no no idea.
Trembling all over, sweat pouring off him and hyperventilating from the pain,
Harrys heart pounded wildly in his chest. He didnt know what was making
him do it. Provoking Lucius was only making it worse, yet he couldnt help
but fight back any way he could. He knew it was why Lucius was here so
often; knew how impotent he felt without his wand, and knew he blamed
Harry for the position hed found himself in with Voldemort. But it was part
of the game. Lucius wouldnt stop until Harry begged, and Harry taunted
him to keep him coming back, to keep him from going after Ron or Hermione,
to keep him from summoning Voldemort.
Lucius wanted to control him, to break him and hand him over to Tom all tied
up with a bow, but Harry wasnt going to let him, not without a fight.
Harry could feel his blood, warm and sticky, running down his chest, soaking
into what remained of his shirt and the waistband of his jeans, as Lucius
stopped twisting and removed the pressure. His eyes were wild, his teeth
bared in fury at Harry. Then, to Harrys surprise, he removed the knife
altogether, sliding it out slowly, agonizingly. Biting down on his lips, Harry
breathed erratically through his nose, afraid of what was next because Lucius
was really pissed now. But he wasnt prepared for what he got.
Jerking his knee up suddenly, Lucius rammed it into Harrys crotch with
tremendous force. All the air whooshed out of his lungs with the explosion of
agony.

Motherfucker! Lucius hadnt used anything but the knife before. Preferring a
more refined form of torture, he never appeared to want to get physical
enough to work up a sweat, so Harry never saw it coming.
Harry would have screamed then if he couldve drawn breath. Instead, he
drew his legs up into himself involuntarily, trying to curl into a ball, trying to
protect them from further harm. Hanging now just by his arms, Harry
moaned in misery as pain radiated out from his balls, into his gut, down his
legs, and still he couldnt draw a breath as a wave of nausea rolled over him
and stars flared in his vision.
Hed changed his mind. This round definitely went to Lucius.
Nothing to say now, Mr. Potter? Lucius asked with a smirk. Then he stuck
his finger into the fresh wound hed opened on Harrys shoulder, digging in
the flesh.
Harry finally sucked in a great lungful of air and let it out on a scream.

Harry jerked awake, his heart pounding. Surging with adrenaline, his mouth
opened in a scream, but there was no sound. His whole body was aching in
real and remembered pain as he stared wildly around the room. He had no
idea where he was. Hed expected to find himself in the torture room at
Malfoy Manor, but he wasnt. Then Hermione was there, leaning over him,
stroking his face and hand while he shook all over in terror.
Its okay, Harry, she assured him as she wiped the sweat from his
forehead. Its just a dream. Its not real.
But she was wrong. It was real. He could still feel the ache in his chest from
the damage Lucius had inflicted. He knew that was reality. This, Hermione
here with him, lying on a comfortable bed, safe, that was the dream. That
was a trick of his mind.
After a few more panicked moments, his mind rolled through everything that
had happened. Everything he could remember played back for him like a film
starting up in his head; captured, tortured, raped. He remembered Lucius,
Bellatrix, Greyback, Snape, Hermione, and Draco, then the Burrow and

Grimmauld Place. He remembered staggering into Siriuss room in a haze of

pain, then into the bathroom with the knife in his hands, and then nothing.
Then he knew she was real again, once his fractured mind had caught up. It
was the same every time he woke up, the horrible cycle of remembering.
He had no idea how long hed been out this time or how much time had
passed since he first woke up and found Ron and Hermione with him, safe.
Every time he saw them, he felt confusion, and then shame, fear, and then
disgust, regret, and then hope. It left him miserable with grief and longing,
so agitated and in pain, trembling all over when the panic hit that they would
finally force another potion down him when he couldnt get himself under
control, when the tears started up at the fear he saw in their eyes, and he
would go out again. But he couldnt understand why they were still with him.
How Ron and Hermione had come to be here at all was a mystery he simply
couldnt fathom. Harry was sure hed left them in Rons room and knew hed
destroyed everything there was between them. Yet here she was again, and
he flinched at the memories of what hed done to her when she went to
stroke his forehead again.
He opened his mouth to tell her how sorry he was, to beg her forgiveness
again, but no sound came out, and his jaw throbbed terribly when he tried,
his head pounding so that all he managed to get out was a moan of pain. But
he was determined to stay calm this time, to keep from panicking, to stay
awake, and so he sucked in several shuddering breaths to calm himself, to
control the shaking of his limbs. Blinking at the stinging and watering of his
eyes, he tried willing his heartbeat to return to normal, to stop freaking out.
Everythings okay, she was saying in that same soothing tone, trying to
help him calm down. It was just a nightmare. Youre safe now.
He blinked again several times. Swallowing hard, he then nodded his head so
she could see that he understood her. Hermione let out a relieved breath of
her own.
Are you in pain?
He shook his head, though it made him feel dizzy. In truth, he ached all over.
His head was throbbing, but he didnt want to fall asleep again. Drawing in
another deep, calming breath, he tried to stop the shaking of his limbs, but
exhaled into a sudden coughing fit that sent fire searing through his lungs
and pain exploding in his ribs, his jaw, and his head. Rolling away from her,
he curled up against the pain, his arm around his ribs, trying to hold himself
together as he gasped for breath between each devastating cough while his
vision winked in and out.

The next time he opened his eyes, it was completely dark in the room, and
he was flat on his back. Blinking slowly, drowsily, he tried to get his eyes
accustomed to the dark. Trying to decide where he was then because he was
entirely too comfortable to be in the torture room. Then he heard Rons soft
snoring nearby. It was a sound so familiar to him from all their time together
in the tent this last year, from sharing a dorm at Hogwarts for six years, from
sleeping on a camp bed in Rons room when he visited over the summer and
Christmas holidays. It was a comforting sound, and with his whole body
feeling pleasantly numb, he was still too sleepy to care much right now
where he was.
He heard the soft rustle of the sheets, a body shifting next to him and a small
sigh. Then a warm hand slid into his, squeezing his fingers slightly while
another hand curled around his upper arm. A floral scent filled his nostrils,
and he thought of Ginny. Then he knew that he was dreaming.
It was a bizarre dream where Ginny and Ron were both sleeping nearby. Ron
would never allow him to be this close to her at night, in bed, curled up next
to him so closely. Plus, hed promised Ron hed stay away from her, but this
was a dream, a good dream, and so he squeezed her fingers back, sighed
heavily, and closed his eyes.

He woke up the following morning to find Madame Pomfrey sitting next to

him, which left him completely bewildered again. How in the hell did she get
here?
He stared at her, then around the room, then back at her again as he went
through the process of remembering once more. Then she spoke to him.
Welcome back to the land of the living, Mr. Potter, she greeted him as she
checked his pulse. Youve given us quite a lot to worry about this time.

Still totally nonplussed at her appearance in Grimmauld Place, Harry just

blinked up at her, but she didnt seem to notice his confusion or his lack of
response as she continued to poke him. Pushing up his eyelids with her
fingers, she peered into his eyes, running her lit wand across them so that he
could still see the bright streaks of light behind his lids when she released
them. Then she opened his mouth to look at his throat, but he pulled out of
her grip. Sucking in a painful breath, he glared at her reproachfully.
Im sorry, Harry, she apologized. Harry's eyebrows rose in surprise at her
use of his first name. But I need to look you over. I know its painful. Youve
suffered through a lot of damage, but I need to check how youre healing.
Just bear with me.
He nodded reluctantly, and she reached again for his chin, running her
fingers along his jaw bone while he tried to sit still for the examination.
A full hour later, marked by a great deal of pain and humiliation, and she was
finally done. He felt violated again at the intrusive questions and the
intimate prodding of her fingers and wand, though he knew she must already
be aware of what theyd done to him. Still, he wished he was still asleep or
unconscious again during her visit so she could just get on with it without
him knowing what she was doing, of having to endure the mortification of
her touching literally every inch of his body.
When shed removed the bandages on his arms and he saw what hed done
to himself, he felt his face flush in shame, though she didnt say a word
about it. She asked him to grip her hand as hard as he could with each of his
hands in turn. He was terrified when he could barely even flex the fingers on
his left hand, the arm hed carved up so badly, while she checked the
damage to his nerves. The skin around it felt strangely numb when she ran
her wand along the angry-looking jagged scar, which was red and swollen.
Then he sat mutely through her recital of all his injuries and wounds and the
progress hed made on each. And when shed not mentioned his voice, he
pointed to his throat in a silent question.
Right, your voice. Well, Im sure it will come back, but it needs time to heal.
The vocal chords were very badly damaged, and all the screaming youve
been trying to do, coupled with the potions weve been giving you and the
coughing, havent been doing you any favors in that department. Im afraid
it may never sound the same again, but you will regain your speech. Just
give it time.
Harry nodded his head at this pronouncement, relieved that he wouldnt be
permanently mute. He was already becoming frustrated at his inability to
communicate.

Now then, she said. I want to start you on a liquid diet for a few days.
Give that jaw a little more time to heal. But some good warm broth in your
belly should feel so much better than just the nourishment potions youve
been on.
Immediately, his mouth began to water at the thought of food.
And finally, she continued. You need to get up and around as soon as
possible, Mr. Potter. Youve been immobile for far too long. Still, dont push
it. Youll be very weak. Ill leave instructions with Mr. Weasley and Miss
Granger. Patting his leg, she stood, gathering her bag. Ill send up some
soup, then. Take care of yourself, dear. Ill see you tomorrow. Then she left
the room.
Not five minutes later, Dobby suddenly appeared out of thin air next to Harry
on the bed with a loud pop. Harry jerked away from him in alarm. Trying to
scream again, his hands flew up to protect himself, and he tumbled
backwards off the bed, slamming his head on the bedside table as he went
down before landing painfully on his back, which knocked the breath out of
him.
Lying there on the floor as his vision swam, he tried to draw breath into lungs
that felt like theyd been flattened by the impact, while trying to understand
what the hell had just happened. Then Dobby was beside him again, looking
horrorstruck at Harry, tears welling in his enormous tennis-ball-sized eyes.
And then Ron was there, too. Harry flinched at the furious expression on his
face as he reached down for him, grabbed him by the upper arms, and pulled
him to his feet. Turning him so Harrys back was pressed against him, Ron
wrapped his arm around Harrys chest, bracing him in a one-armed hug as he
gripped Harry by the shoulder.
Ron was supporting most of his weight, pinning his arms to his sides, holding
Harry upright, which was good because Harry was so dizzy that if Ron let go,
he knew hed slide right back down him to the floor. His legs were trembling
so badly, it felt like someone had cast a jelly legs jinx on them, and he knew
they wouldnt support him at all. Madame Pomfrey wasnt lying when she
said hed be weak.
What the hell, Dobby? Ron yelled angrily as he probed the back of Harrys
head with his fingers.
Harry jerked in fright again at the anger in Rons voice and at the sharp stab
of pain from the lump growing on his head as Ron ran his fingers over it.
Gripped Rons forearm braced across his chest with both hands, Harry tried
to steady himself because the room was starting to spin.

Oh, sorry, Harry, he apologized, turning a bewildered and disoriented Harry

into him, tucking him into his chest. Then Ron bent slightly and placed his
other arm behind Harrys knees and lifted him, depositing him back onto the
bed.
Harry was too stunned at being handled like a rag doll to protest as Ron let
go of him and replaced the blanket across his lap, bunching the pillows
behind him to prop him up, while Dobby sobbed his apology.
Dobby was not meaning to scare Harry Potter, sir, Dobby explained
through his tears. Dobby was just bringing Harry Potter his soup. Dobby
was so excited to see Harry Potter awake. He was wailing, pulling on his
ears.
Harry nodded at the elf, trying to let him know it was okay, that he was all
right, though he was still stunned at this latest unexpected visitor to
Grimmauld Place. He squinted myopically around again to make sure he
wasnt at Hogwarts instead.
What the hell had happened here after hed taken the knife to his arms?
How many others were lurking downstairs? Was the entire Hogwarts staff
taking up residence at Number Twelve now?
Then Dobby ran suddenly towards the wardrobe, ramming headlong into it.
Ron yelped in surprise, dashing forward to pick the dazed elf up off the floor,
yelling more curses while Harry sat propped on the bed with his mouth open
in shock. He was thinking more and more that this whole thing was some
elaborate dream his delusional mind had concocted for his own twisted
entertainment as his head started throbbing in pain with the beat of his heart
and the room continued to teeter on its axis.
What on earth? Hermione said as she entered the room and took in the
scene: Harry pale on the bed, his eyes huge, round with shock; Ron holding
an unconscious elf in his arms; the tray with Harrys soup left abandoned on
the bed.
The damned elf scared the shit out of Harry, and then just did a runner at
the dresser! Ron explained in stunned disbelief. I couldnt stop him. Hes a
complete nutter, Hermione.
Dobby was stirring now in Rons arms, coming around again, blinking in
confusion.
Are you all right, Harry? Hermione asked him in concern, but he just stared
at her in a bemused sort of way, blinking slowly, his mouth still open in

surprise. Right then. Ron, why dont you take Dobby back downstairs, and
get him settled down? Ill give Harry his soup before it gets cold.
Yeah, all right, Ron agreed. Check his head, though. He nodded at Harry
as he walked towards the door. I think he hit it on the table. Its bleeding,
he told her over his shoulder as he carried Dobby back out of the room.
Hermione collected the tray and hurried around to Harrys side of the bed.
Placing it across his lap, she sat down on the edge next to him. Then pulling
his head forward by the back of the neck, she pressed his forehead into her
shoulder while she examined the knot throbbing on the back of his skull,
clucking her tongue as she ran her fingers over the swelling lump.
Harry was surprised again, taken aback at how both she and Ron were
manhandling him. Theyd become entirely too familiar with his body. Too
used to his silent compliance, they didnt ask his permission, or giving any
warning, or anything, before touching him, grabbing him, carrying him, for
Gods sake! It was starting to get annoying. He was awake now. Didnt they
know?
He jerked when she wadded up the napkin from the tray and pressed it hard
against the gash on his head. Damn, it stung! She held it there, putting
pressure on it to stop the bleeding, pressing his forehead harder into her
shoulder for a few more minutes, which felt good on his throbbing headache,
before dabbing at it again with the napkin and then releasing him.
Well, she said with a sigh, running her hands through his hair, feeling for
more injuries. I dont think there will be any permanent damage, but
Madame Pomfrey will have our hides for this. Are you hurt anywhere else?
she asked, dropping the napkin into her lap.
He shook his head, which was still resting on her shoulder. He felt lethargic,
his eyes drooping, too much excitement for him for one day, perhaps. Hed
been awake for more than two hours now, which was a record for him, he
reckoned. Still, he was eager to eat some of the soup Dobby brought up that
had smelled so delicious. So he lifted his head with effort because it felt like
it weighed a lot more than usual, and tried to stop the spinning of the room
by clutching the blanket in his fists.
Harry was only able to get about half the soup down before he was feeling
extremely full. With his belly rounded up, his eyes grew too heavy to stay
open on their own, and his head nodded forward. The soporific effect of the
warm broth in his stomach was just too much for him, or maybe it was from
the concussion he suspected he now had from the blow to his head. Either
way, he was going out again. He didnt feel Hermione remove the tray from

his legs, or remove some of the pillows from behind his head so he could lie
down, or the soft kiss she planted on his lips as she tucked the blanket back
around him.
The next time he woke was early evening. It may have been the same day.
He didnt know for sure. Hermione was propping pillows behind him,
elevating him while he blinked himself awake and tried to orient himself,
once again, to his surroundings. It was getting better though, he decided,
understanding coming back to him faster with fewer traumas this time.
He ached all over again, his back and shoulder stiff and head throbbing from
the backwards somersault hed done off the bed the last time hed been
awake.
Now for my next trick, he thought stupidly.
Im sorry to wake you, Harry, but its time for your potions again, she
apologized.
Clamping his mouth shut automatically, he shook his head, still not fully
awake. He didnt want any more potions, he thought mulishly, childishly. No
more potions, thank you! No potions that made him fall asleep, that made
him feel weak and light headed, that made his head feel like it was stuffed
with cotton and left his tongue feeling furry. No potions that tasted bad, that
tasted like pepper and made him wild with desire for her and then his
mind froze up at the memory, everything coming to a screeching halt, his
whole body going stiff.
His heart started to pound, and his mouth went dry. He was panicking again,
trembling all over at the memory of what theyd made him do to her,
catching him unprepared at the suddenness of the images flooding through
him. And she was much too close to him! He could smell the soap she used
on her skin, the shampoo in her hair, filling his nostrils with her scent,
making him remember what she smelled like then, what she felt like, his
aching body pressed against hers, inside her NO NO NO!
Kicking out wildly, frantically, Harry tried to scramble backwards, away from
her on the bed, though his limbs wouldnt obey him properly. He was terrified
of his bodys response to her, at the arousal he felt stirring in him at her
nearness. He was hysterical with fear as she continued to reach for him,
looking shocked at his violent reaction.
Sound was coming from him now, broken, raspy, terror-filled sounds, and a
crushing, burning weight was pressing down on his chest. Then he was

coughing again, the pain taking his breath away. Oh, God! He was falling
apart, and he couldnt stop it happening.
Then Ron was there, holding him down, and he was even more afraid.
Thrashing on the bed now, Harry tried to scream. His hands scrabbled at the
back of Rons wrists, trying to free himself, but Ron wouldnt let go. Lying on
top of him, across his chest, Ron pressed him into the mattress as his feet
thrummed on the bed in utter terror.
Petrificus Totalus! Hermione cried.
Harrys body immediately went stiff all over from the body bind curse shed
cast, ending his frantic attempt to escape them. The spell held him
immobile, but alert, as waves of panic rolled over him, and tears slid from
the corners of his eyes into his hair. Remembering when Bellatrix held him
under this curse in the torture room, he remembered the lessons shed
taught him then.
He wanted them to give him the fucking potions now, or to knock him in the
head, stun him, obliviate his memory, something, anything to knock him out
again, to stop the memories of that place, of what they did to him, and of
what he did to her. But they didnt. They talked quietly to him, trying to calm
him down again while his mind bombarded him with horrific images from the
dungeons of Malfoy Manor.
Ron whispered quietly to Hermione as he held her while she sobbed into his
shoulder. She was crying, and it was his fault. Hed made her cry again like
he had done then, but he didnt mean to. Hed tried not to hurt her. He
couldnt help it. He couldnt tell her how sorry he was, though he was
screaming it in his head, over and over again. Telling them both that he was
sorry, he was so sorry.
It was several minutes before Hermione stopped crying on Ron, and even
longer before the fear and panic flooded out of Harry, leaving him exhausted.
Yet still, they didnt release him. He continued to lay frozen on the bed as
Hermione and Ron left it, walking around the room, out of his limited line of
sight. It made him feel afraid again. Afraid that they wouldnt come back,
that theyd finally had enough of him, Harry feared that they had come to
their senses and left him for good. But then they were both beside him once
more, standing over him. Hermione lifted the spell at last, and his limp body
sank into the bed.
All right, she said, sniffling. Lets try this again. Everythings going to be
okay, Harry. Ron and I arent trying to hurt you, she told him sternly,
sounding like she had a bad head cold.

Harry slowly nodded his head as she wiped at her eyes.

Well take it more slowly then, all right?
He nodded again.
Right, then, lets get you propped back up.
Only it was Ron who leaned over him this time, not Hermione. Sliding his arm
under Harrys neck and lower back, Ron pulled him upwards while Harry
awkwardly tried to help push himself up with his hands and elbows. And
Harry felt considerably less panicked at Rons touch instead of Hermiones.
Ron scooped pillows behind him until he was almost sitting before releasing
him.
Okay. This potion is an antibiotic for your infections, particularly in your
lungs, Hermione announced, holding up a bottle. Were going to give you a
dose of this.
Harry nodded again, signaling his compliance as she pulled the stopper and
poured out a dose into a spoon. Opening his mouth to accept it, he grimaced
as he swallowed it down, but was relieved to find himself still calm.
Good. Now this ones a blood replenisher.
Harry accepted it, too, without complaint.
This ones for pain But he was shaking his head already. Harry, I know
youre in pain, she argued, but he shook his head again, refusing point
blank to take it.
Fine. Clearly, she was deciding it was better not to try and fight him, he
thought with relief. One more, then, she continued, holding up a fourth
bottle.This one is a nourishment potion, all right? she asked.
He stared at it suspiciously a moment, and then nodded again, opening his
mouth willingly when she poured out a spoonful.
Wonderful, Harry, she praised him after he swallowed it down. That was
wonderful.
It made him feel like a dog that had just learned a new trick, or like
Crookshanks when hed brought Hermione a dead spider hed just caught.
Harry frowned at her.

Ron smiled at the look on his face before rolling his eyes at Harry in a
familiar gesture that clearly said, Shes mental, that one. Then he clapped
his hands together and said, All right, then. More delicious broth for you for
dinner, and then youre getting your nails clipped, Harry.
Lifting the back of his hands to Harry, Ron showed him the scratches hed left
on them while Hermione called for Dobby, who appeared again suddenly in
the room, glancing sheepishly at Harry. She spoke quietly to him for a
moment, and he vanished again with a pop, returning moments later with
another bowl of steaming broth. It was chicken this time, and Harrys
stomach growled loudly when the scent filled his nostrils, feeling suddenly
ravenous again.
Harry stubbornly insisted on feeding himself, but found that he was
extremely clumsy, which caused Dobby to have to anxiously mop him up
after every bobbled spoonful or dribbled attempt. His hands were still too
swollen from sleep and disuse to grasp the spoon firmly enough, even with
his good hand. It trembled badly, the spoon clanking against the side of the
bowl every time he spooned up another mouthful and tried to steer it
towards his lips. It must have looked comical, or just pathetic, but no one
said a word.
Finally admitting defeat, Harry turned the spoon over to Dobby. The elf
appeared utterly delighted to feed Harry the rest of the soup, happily poking
spoonfuls into his mouth while Hermione took the opportunity to trim his
overlong, ragged nails down to the quick.
There, thats much better, Hermione declared when she had finished both
hands, and he waved off another spoonful of soup. He couldnt hold
anymore. Dobby seemed distressed that he hadnt finished it all, but he just
couldnt.
Hermione touched the tip of her wand to his stomach, muttered a spell, and
his bladder emptied suddenly. Harry jerked in surprise, letting out a tiny
squawk of indignation, though she took no notice. He was feeling light
headed again, his eyes suddenly heavy as Dobby removed the tray. Then he
realized that Hermione had put the pain potion in his soup, or had Dobby do
it for her.
Shit, he thought. That was low, even for her, and hed seen her do some
pretty devious things.
Tomorrow, she announced unapologetically at the look of dawning
comprehension on his face. Youre getting out of this bed, Harry, and getting

a shave. Youre going to get a proper bath and have that hair washed, too.
Honestly, its starting to look like Snapes.
Snape, he thought, trying to fight off the potions effects, the mention of his
name jarring a memory loose. He needed to tell them something about
Snape, and Lucius, too. But his mind was working too slowly now, shutting
down.
Snape wasnt who they believed he was. Hed tried to rescue them well,
him, anyway. The fucking git! And Lucius Lucius was dead. Voldemort had
killed him. Harry had seen it, hed felt it.
Whilst this makes the Parsons turbine much longer and heavier, the overall
efficiency of a reaction turbine is slightly higher than the equivalent impulse
turbine for the same thermal energy conversion. In practice, modern turbine
designs use both reaction and impulse concepts to varying degrees
whenever possible. Wind turbines use an airfoil to generate a reaction lift
from the moving fluid and impart it to the rotor. Wind turbines also gain
some energy from the impulse of the wind, by deflecting it at an angle.
Turbines with multiple stages may utilize either reaction or impulse blading
at high pressure. Steam turbines were traditionally more impulse but
continue to move towards reaction designs similar to those used in gas
turbines. At low pressure the operating fluid medium expands in volume for
small reductions in pressure. Under these conditions, blading becomes
strictly a reaction type design with the base of the blade solely impulse. The
reason is due to the effect of the rotation speed for each blade. As the
volume increases, the blade height increases, and the base of the blade
spins at a slower speed relative to the tip. This change in speed forces a
designer to change from impulse at the base, to a high reaction style tip.
Classical turbine design methods were developed in the mid 19th century.
Vector analysis related the fluid flow with turbine shape and rotation.
Graphical calculation methods were used at first. Formulae for the basic
dimensions of turbine parts are well documented and a highly efficient
machine can be reliably designed for any fluid flow condition. Some of the
calculations are empirical or 'rule of thumb' formulae, and others are based
on classical mechanics. As with most engineering calculations, simplifying
assumptions were made. Velocity triangles can be used to calculate the basic
performance of a turbine stage. Gas exits the stationary turbine nozzle guide
vanes at absolute velocity V. The roTurbine inlet guide vanes of a turbojet
tor rotates at velocity U. Relative to the rotor, the velocity of the gas as it
impinges on the rotor entrance is V. The gas is turned by the rotor and
exits, relative to the rotor, at velocity V. However, in absolute terms the
rotor exit velocity is V. The velocity triangles are constructed using these
various velocity vectors. Velocity triangles can be constructed at any section

through the blading (for example: hub, tip, midsection and so on) but are
usually shown at the mean stage radius. Mean performance for the stage can
be calculated from the velocity triangles, at this radius, using the Euler
equation: h = u vw Hence: h T = u vw T where: h T u vw The
turbine pressure ratio is a function of h T and the turbine efficiency. Modern
turbine design carries the calculations further. Computational fluid dynamics
dispenses with many of the simplifying assumptions used to derive classical
formulas and computer software facilitates optimization. These tools have
led to steady improvements in turbine design over the last forty years. The
primary numerical classification of a turbine is its specific speed. This
number describes the speed of the turbine at its maximum efficiency with
respect to the power and flow rate. The specific speed is derived to be 3
independent of turbine size. Given the fluid flow conditions and the desired
shaft output speed, the specific speed can be calculated and an appropriate
turbine design selected. The specific speed, along with some fundamental
formulas can be used to reliably scale an existing design of known
performance to a new size with corresponding performance. Off-design
performance is normally displayed as a turbine map or characteristic. 2
Types Steam turbines are used for the generation of electricity in thermal
power plants, such as plants using coal, fuel oil or nuclear fuel. They were
once used to directly drive mechanical devices such as ships propellers (for
example the Turbinia, the first turbine-powered steam launch, [4]) but most
such applications now use reduction gears or an intermediate electrical step,
where the turbine is used to generate electricity, which then powers an
electric motor connected to the mechanical load. Turbo electric ship
machinery was particularly popular in the period immediately before and
during World War II, primarily due to a lack of sufficient gear-cutting facilities
in US and UK shipyards. Gas turbines are sometimes referred to as turbine
engines. Such engines usually feature an inlet, fan, compressor, combustor
and nozzle (possibly other assemblies) in addition to one or more turbines.
Transonic turbine. The gas flow in most turbines employed in gas turbine
engines remains subsonic throughout the expansion process. In a transonic
turbine the gas flow becomes supersonic as it exits the nozzle guide vanes,
although the downstream velocities normally become subsonic. Transonic
turbines operate at a higher pressure ratio than
I
24, December, 1996
Its true that the Diagon Alley was a popular location for all kinds of witches
and wizards, alongside with many other magical beings, such as elfs, dwarfs
and even veelas, but during the Christmas holidays it was disturnbingly
stressful and almost impossible to cross a street without hearing a witch or
two arguing with a poor seller, crossed arms and barking mad eyes in

restrained fury as if it was the sellers fault that the shop to not say the
entire alley was overcrowded with people who had forgotten to purchase
what they needed and were now having to make their last minute Holiday
shopping.
Apparently, even the recente events hadnt stopped the population of the
wizarding world from doing their normal day activities.
Idiots.
The whole country was alert and yet there was a huge concentration of
people who refused to believe that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named had
returned. Were they plain dumb or just in denial, that didnt matter, the
information still seemed that couldnt get through their thick sckulls.
So they carried on.
Carrying lists everywhere, many young men complained with their wives
whilst carrying endless numbers of bags and heavy books; some of them
grunted but aside from that, most remained silent till the end of their trip to
the countless shops that the alley possessed: Gambol & Japes the joke shop
was one of the loudest, closely followed by Quality Quidditch Suppliess and
by the famous pub, the Leaky Cauldron, which the woman was currently in.
Sat by a window, alone in the corner, a dark figure could be seen, carrying a
vicious look on her icy blue eyes. Not that it mattered, anyway, as many if
not all of the occupants of the room hadnt been paying attention to her
since they had walked out of the fireplace.
Red hair, tatty second hand clothes and the blatant expression of plain
bluntness on their faces were enough for one to tell who they were.
Weasleys. The whole lot.
Blimey! How could anyone stand having so many kids around? She thought
before desperatly trying to force her mind to not think about it. No, never in
seven hells shed be in a situation like that. It wasnt as if she hated children
even though her sister claimed the contrary - as for one or two was alright
to her, but seven? Nope, definately not her cup of tea.
As the youngest boy tripped out of the fireplace, soon followed by a ginger
girl, the blonde haired woman sneered soundly. Little baby Potter followed
the girl close behing before she spotted her, the mudblood.
Gripping her bottle with na iron grip, the older woman tried to control herself
before hearing someone sitting beside her. Apparently, she had been so
focused on her on them that she barely had been able to notice who had

dared to come closer to destroy her brief moments of Peace, already aiming
her dagger towards the persons stomach.
Quit pissing around, we must leave at once. Narcissa Malfoy spoke quietly
as she barely wasted her time to look at the ginger familly and the two other
that followed them towards the busy street. Her beautiful face held a stoic
expression. Of disgust, as if she hated to be in such place. Maybe she did.
After minutes without any form of reply, she tried again, this time taking the
dagger out of her sisters skilled hands. Bella.... Are you even listening to
me...? Narcissa hissed low before taking notice of how many bottles her
eldest sister had in front of her, most of them already empty. Unbelievable!
Its already dangerous enough to you go around the wizarding worl and
you---
A low growl escaped the other blonde and for a moment the blue eyes that
had belonged to a local polyjuice prostitute seemed to show exactly who
they were hiding. Cissy...shut up. Bellatrix Lestrange, the infamous death
eater, hissed back, aware that they wouldnt be bothered by nosey people.
As far as Im concerned, I am just a costumer, like anyone else. She said
with fake innocence.
Narcissa raised na eyebrow before carefully placing the dagger on the table,
still showing no visible emotion, but her rant was enough to tell she was
mad. Do you really think that this potion will last that much? Weve been
here for almost na hour, dont be such a reckless nut, if anyone realizes that
the blonde that came through the fireplace gave place to...to you, were as
good as dead. All that what for? Drinks?
Snorting, Bellatrix took a last sip of her drink as she watched Draco walking
inside the pub and quickly glancing around, looking for them. A carbono copy
of Narcissas expression on his face, except that he did not possess the dark
orbs that were so characteristic of the Black family and, instead, had icy blue
eyes, just like Lucius.
Honestly, if I wanted to get shitfaced, Id at least do it with class, at the
manor. Im sure our dear Lucius wouldnt mind me tasting the varieties of
drinks of the house, which I well know you have plenty. She mocked under
her breath before grabbing her dagger and pocketing it before standing up,
making herself visible for her nephew and, without even sparing a look at
Narcissa, she threw a couple or so on the conter, heading to the fireplace.
Keep the change. She hissed low, her voice already going back to its
natural husky sound and the once blue eyes were slowly getting darker and
darker.The barman was shocked, it was far more Money than he had gained
in a whole week!

II
What to many would be a terrible situation, to the Weasley matriarch had
been a party. She was happly bouncing around the shops, her ginger hair
being the only thing that Hermione, Harry and Ron could see as they were
the last ones on the line that the Weasleys had formed as they walked
towards the streets. Carrying a long list, Molly started to delegate the tasks
to each of her children and even her husband.
It made her heart ache but she had to do this in order to leave as quickly as
possible. Besides, an attack, in such crowded place surrounded by Auroro n
holidays and members of the Order didnt seem to be happening. Perhaps, if
they were Lucky enough, theyd have a pleasant Christmas supper, with the
whole family together.
With her feelings under control as her calm started to return, Mrs Weasley
turned to the Golden trio.
Ron, you, Hermione and Harry can go to Eeylops to get what we need for
our owls whilst I and Arthur go to the Apothecary. The twins and Ginny are
checking the Quidditch supplies before they meet with Charlie and Bill in the
bookstore.
What of Percy? asked Ron with a sigh He needs to help too!
Percy will meet us in the bookstore before we leave Arthur gently smiled at
his son Hes got an importante business in the cauldron shop...something
about his last works in the past years...
Humph. Ron crossed his arms over his chest, not quite happy at the
answer he was given.
Cmon, Ron, we need to get the supplies before they close the shop. Harry
spoke before his friend started to rant about his brother, again.
Harrys right, I also need to get more rats for Crookshanks. Hermione
commented before picking the list Mrs Weasley was giving her and the
money. Heading to do their tasks, they took almost na hour to finally be able
to go to the bookstore. Hermiones feet were already aching and Harry could
tell he was about to get a huge headache as Ron couldnt stop complaining
about his brother. Or was it about Quidditch? The green eyed boy barely
could understand his friend properly before he started to speak again.
Against his will, Ron carried the bags something Hermione made sure of
him to do as her own ears were starting to ache already and she briefly
wondered if she could cast a Muffiato...Well, of course not, young wizards

couldnt perform magic outside the schools limits, but the simple thought
already entretained her enough. and that seemed to make him speak less
as he was struggling to keep his balance and follow his friends.
As they passed by Ollivanders Shop, Harrys scar burnt a little, as if there
was still something about it that the current Aurors that were now guarding
what was left of the building and that made him shiver slightly at the
thought. Hermione, who seemed to have noticed, placed a gentle hand on
his shoulder as they headed to the Second-Hand Bookshop.
Hermione was well aware of what was happening perhaps even more than
the rest of the group as she had seen what had happened, and what was
still happening, in both the Muggle and Wizarding worlds. The two sides of a
coin, so different, yet here she was, one of the living proofs that they could
be United, if they wanted. Even thought she was a muggleborn and had no
drop of magical blood in her family, she was born different, special as one
would say.
To say that her life was easy would be a white lie and, if she was honest, the
last six years had been the most difficult thing she had passed through.
Predjuice, exclusion, hate and countless near death experiences made her
tougher through the years and as much as she denied she knew she
wasnt the same. At least not since Sirius death anyway.
She had seen it, the madness of the womans eyes his own cousin! as she
shouted the evil curse that hit him straight in the chest before he fell on the
Veil and dissapeared. Ever since then, mosto of the nights, shes wake up
around past midnight, panting as the dark, souless orbes glared madly
before her, haunting her as if they planned on making her the next target.
This whole thing, Christmas, holidays and even the oncoming marriage of Bill
and Fleur, seemed pointless now. Everything looked so distant that Hermione
briefly wondered if she was facing the begin of some sort of depression or
perhaps a post traumatic symptom.
It was almost as if she was someone else, or in the processo of becoming
someone she had no clue on who it was and that was driving her mad.
Sighing, the young witch opened the door of the bookstore with ease. It was
getting darker, which meant that most people would hurry home, afraid of
what the darkness of the night could bring. Cowards, Ron had said.
But....if Hermione was honest with herself, she too wanted to runaway.
The reason why of all this fuss was because they were having more people
than the usual for the Christmas supper. Remus and Tonks agreed on going
to The Burrow and, even though Hermione herself wouldnt be spending the

holidays with them shed pay them a visit by the floo. She was glad that
her parents had let her install a connection to the floo network, or else she
wouldnt be able to get there in time after all, she still didnt know how to
apparate yet and was thankful that theyd let her spend the resto of the
night with her friends. Rumours said that even Fleur would be
present.Hermione suspected that theyd tell the whole family, and friends,
about the oncoming happening.

III
Ever since the Vow was made, Bellatrix had been restless to say the least.
She no longer spent time with Draco or Narcissa. Heck, she didnt even argue
with Lucius anymore and as incredible as that might sound he was almost
starting to miss their casual rows.
Rodolphus was still in the Lestrange Manor, alongside with his brother and,
as far as she was concerned, they could die for all she cared. She never had
hated someone so much in her life more than her useless excuse of husband.
Well.... except someone...

The mudblood.
Of the many things that pissed Bellatrix off, to see a according to her
worthless mudblood that had stole a wand to keep her head high and proud
was far too much to handle.
How dare she?!? she mumbled huskly, now back with her appearance
intact. Shes not even a witch. And then, Bellatrix carried on with the
verbal abuse, even thought the only ones hearing her were the portraits of
her parentes, who proudly looked at her in approval.
Thats it. Thats the good old Bella. Shes still here, no changes at all...

To say that she had a problem with alchool would be one thing. But, to
consider Bellatrix to actually be an alchoolic was going too far. She usually
never drank, well,except a glass or two of wine every now and then, but
when she noticed that she couldnt sleep anymore, the only way she had to
refrain from getting addicted to a Sleeping Draught would be drinking herself
to slumber and then sleeping soundly on whereven she was at the moment.
Most of the time, it was on the love seat, on the library, where she has for

hours and hours been looking for answers that she couldnt find. Answers
that not even her Lord could give her.
Severus no, Snape. Hed still be Snape. Snivellus. had tried to help her
with her nightmares, offering to give her potions on Dreamless Sleep, but
they stopped having effect on her, no matter how much she took. Still, he
offered to help on her research on the meaning of her constant nightmares.
At first, she thought he was up to something not that she had changed her
mind, though and had her wand aimed at his throat countless time. He
claimed to be helping her for old times sake, as he put it. Wrong move. All
that happened in the past must stay in the past, hidden forever from both
hers and her Lords mind.
IV
It was almost always the same. The woman, slight blonde and long haired,
would say nothing but to point at a river. When she bent to look though, she
didnt see her own reflection but of someone very much alike her, yet so
different.
She knew that face somehow.
Then, the woman would speak, but she barely could hear as the ivory sking
on the blonde lady started to crack as a teapot that fell on the floor and then
shed start screaming at the top of her lungs, so desesperate and in so much
pain that made her stomatch twirl as a storm started to form.
The blonde had warned her, somehow, she knew things were going to
reapeat themselves again.
A baby cried in the middle of the noise and it looked so afraid that the blonde
woman had no choice but to throw it on a river, causing the other to scream.
A battle began, not light against dark and no one but the two woman, yet
their blood lust for each other seemed to supress the anger and the cruelity
of thousands armies.
V
Her house was slightly small when compared to a normal house, but she
didnt feel any less comfortable there. In fact, a house of such size was more
than enough for the three of them to live.Panting, Hermione looked at her
clock. 01:00 am. Great. Another night restless. This time, she could have
sworn that she felt something....as if...this was some sort of memory. Not
desiring to dwell on such thoughts for much longer, she turned to try and

sleep once more, practically praying to whatever bigger powerfull being of

above to help her.
After an hour or so, she decided to get herself a glass of water, only to find
that she couldnt move. Well, not exactly. Her body was still in perfect
condition, and as far as she knew, she was at her healthiest, but somehow
she felt too weak and perhaps even drained to raise from her bed. Heck,
even sitting up took a lot of effort for her.
Sensing a panic attack coming, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath,
trying to calm herself down before she fainted due lack of air in her lungs.

Back at the Malfoy Manor, things were way much worse.After the contents of
her stomach were cleaned by a small flick of her wand, Bellatrix returned to
her bed, breathing heavly as the dream was still vivid on her mind and it
played on a repeat in a non-stop motion that deeply disturbed her. She was
sure that Cissy had heard her from her room and that even Draco might have
been already getting his wand to check on his aunt, but the protective spells
that she had put on her room were almost strong enough to stop elfic
magic,which was far more raw magic of wizarding magic to begin with. Thing
was, one could only penetrate in her room if she allowed.
Something that wasnt happening anytime soon.
Even though she felt tired, haunted by thoughts that seemed to not belong
her and sleep was not claiming her anytime soon. So, instead of wasting the
little energy she still had, she accioed a book to entretain herself.
Narcissa paced on the library, sighing quietly. Such unlady like action was
revolting to her but she couldnt stop herself. Bella was getting worse and
she wondered if her sister could handle what it was going to happen if she
lost it. The many layers of protective walls that both she and Snape had puto
on Bellatrixs mind were cracking and threatening to fall. This could not
happen under no circunstance, it would change everything, even the course
of the war.
Going to Diagon Alley had been a mistake that Narcissa could forgive herself.
Bellas mind was still weak after Azkaban and, even though this year she had
been almost normal, she knew something was starting to happen to her
sister.Perhaps the stains of time were harder to wash off than she had
thought.
normal but are usually less efficient and uncommon. Contra-rotating
turbines. With axial turbines, some efficiency advantage can be obtained if a

downstream turbine rotates in the opposite direction to an upstream unit.

However, the complication can be counter-productive. A contra-rotating
steam turbine, usually known as the Ljungstrm turbine, was originally
invented by Swedish Engineer Fredrik Ljungstrm (18751964) in Stockholm,
and in partnership with his brother Birger Ljungstrm he obtained a patent in
1894. The design is essentially a multi-stage radial turbine (or pair of 'nested'
turbine rotors) offering great efficiency, four times as large heat drop per
stage as in the reaction (Parsons) turbine, extremely compact design and the
type met particular success in back pressure power plants. However,
contrary to other designs, large steam volumes are handled with difficulty
and only a combination with axial flow turbines (DUREX) admits the turbine
to be built for power greater than ca 50 MW. In marine applications only
about 50 turbo-electric units were ordered (of which a considerable amount
were finally sold to land plants) during 1917-19, and during 1920-22 a few
turbo-mechanic not very successful units were sold.[5] Only a few turboelectric marine plants were still in use in the late 1960s (ss Ragne, ss Regin)
while most land plants remain in use 2010. Statorless turbine. Multi-stage
turbines have a set of static (meaning stationary) inlet guide vanes that
direct the gas flow onto the rotating rotor blades. In a stator-less turbine the
gas flow exiting an upstream rotor impinges onto a downstream rotor without
an intermediate set of stator vanes (that rearrange the pressure/velocity
energy levels of the flow) being encountered. Ceramic turbine.
Conventional high-pressure turbine blades (and vanes) are made from nickel
based alloys and often utilise intricate internal air-cooling passages to
prevent the metal from overheating. In recent years, experimental ceramic
blades have been manufactured and tested in gas turbines, with a view to
increasing rotor inlet temperatures and/or, possibly, eliminating air cooling.
Ceramic blades are more brittle than their metallic counterparts, and carry a
greater risk of catastrophic blade failure. This has tended to limit their use in
jet engines and gas turbines to the stator (stationary) blades. Shrouded
turbine. Many turbine rotor blades have shrouding at the top, which
interlocks with that of adjacent blades, to increase damping and thereby
reduce blade flutter. In large land-based electricity generation steam
turbines, the shrouding is often complemented, especially in the long blades
of a low-pressure turbine, with lacing wires. These wires pass through holes
drilled in the blades at suitable distances from the blade root and are usually
brazed to the blades at the point where they pass through. Lacing wires
reduce blade flutter in the central part of the blades. The introduction of
lacing wires substantially reduces the instances of blade failure in large or
low-pressure turbines. Shroudless turbine. Modern practice is, wherever
possible, to eliminate the rotor shrouding, thus reducing the centrifugal load
on the blade and the cooling requirements. Bladeless turbine uses the
boundary layer effect and not a fluid impinging upon the blades as in a
conventional turbine. Water turbines 4 4 SEE ALSO Pelton turbine, a type
of impulse water turbine. Francis turbine, a type of widely used water
turbine. Kaplan turbine, a variation of the Francis Turbine. Turgo turbine, a

modified form of the Pelton wheel. Cross-flow turbine, also known as

BankiMichell turbine, or Ossberger turbine. Wind turbine. These normally
operate as a single stage without nozzle and interstage guide vanes. An
exception is the olienne Bolle, which has a stator and a rotor. Velocity
compound Curtis. Curtis combined the de Laval and Parsons turbine by
using a set of fixed nozzles on the first stage or stator and then a rank of
fixed and rotating blade rows, as in the Parsons or de Laval, typically up to
ten compared with up to a hundred stages of a Parsons design. The overall
ef- ficiency of a Curtis design is less than that of either the Parsons or de
Laval designs, but it can be satisfactorily operated through a much wider
range of speeds, including successful operation at low speeds and at lower
pressures, which made it ideal for use in ships powerplant. In a Curtis
arrangement, the entire heat drop in the steam takes place in the initial
nozzle row and both the subsequent moving blade rows and stationary blade
rows merely change the direction of the steam. Use of a small section of a
Curtis arrangement, typically one nozzle section and two or three rows of
moving blades, is usually termed a Curtis 'Wheel' and in this form, the Curtis
found widespread use at sea as a 'governing stage' on many reaction and
impulse turbines and turbine sets. This practice is still commonplace today in
marine steam plant. Pressure compound multi-stage impulse, or Rateau,
after its French inventor, fr:Auguste Rateau. The Rateau employs simple
impulse rotors separated by a nozzle diaphragm. The diaphragm is
essentially a partition wall in the turbine with a series of tunnels cut into it,
funnel shaped with the broad end facing the previous stage and the narrow
the next they are also angled to direct the steam jets onto the impulse rotor.
Mercury vapour turbines used mercury as the working fluid, to improve the
efficiency of fossil-fuelled generating stations. Although a few power plants
were built with combined mercury vapour and conventional steam turbines,
the toxicity of the metal mercury was quickly apparent. Screw turbine is a
water turbine which uses the principle of the Archimedean screw to convert
the potential energy of water on an upstream level into kinetic energy. 3
Uses Almost all electrical power on Earth is generated with a turbine of some
type. Very high efficiency steam turbines harness around 40% of the thermal
energy, with the rest exhausted as waste heat. Most jet engines rely on
turbines to supply mechanical work from their working fluid and fuel as do all
nuclear ships and power plants. Turbines are often part of a larger machine.
A gas turbine, for example, may refer to an internal combustion machine
that contains a turbine, ducts, compressor, combustor, heat-exchanger, fan
and (in the case of one designed to produce electricity) an alternator.
Combustion turbines and steam turbines may be connected to machinery
such as pumps and compressors, or may be used for propulsion of ships,
usually through an intermediate gearbox to reduce rotary speed.
Reciprocating piston engines such as aircraft engines can use a turbine
powered by their exhaust to drive an intakeair compressor, a configuration
known as a turbocharger (turbine supercharger) or, colloquially, a turbo.
Turbines can have very high power density (i.e. the ratio of power to weight,

or power to volume). This is because of their ability to operate at very high

speeds. The Space Shuttle main engines used turbopumps (machines
consisting of a pump driven by a turbine engine) to feed the propellants
(liquid oxygen and liquid hydrogen) into the engines combustion chamber.
The liquid hydrogen turbopump is slightly larger than an automobile engine
(weighing approximately 700 lb) and produces nearly 70,000 hp (52.2 MW).
Turboexpanders are widely used as sources of refrigeration in industrial
processes. Military jet engines, as a branch of gas turbines, have recently
been used as primary flight controller in poststall flight using jet deflections
that are also called thrust vectoring.[6] The U.S. Federal Aviation
Administration has also conducted a study about civilizing such thrust
vectoring systems to recover jetliners from catastrophes. 4 See also
Archimedes screw Balancing machine Eulers pump and turbine equation
Rotordynamics 5 Screw turbine Secondary flow Segner wheel Tesla
turbine Turbo-alternator Turbodrill Turbofan Turbojet Turboshaft
Turboprop Vibration of rotating structures 5 Notes [1] turbine.turbid.
Online Etymology Dictionary. [2] . Liddell, Henry George; Scott, Robert;
A Greek English Lexicon at the Perseus Project. [3] In 1822, Claude Burdin
submitted his memo Des turbines hydrauliques ou machines rotatoires
grande vitesse (Hydraulic turbines or high-speed rotary machines) to the
Acadmie royale des sciences in Paris. (See: Annales de chimie et de
physique, vol. 21, page 183 (1822).) However, it was not until 1824 that a
committee of the Acadmie (composed of Prony, Dupin, and Girard) reported
favorably on Burdins memo. See: Prony and Girard (1824) Rapport sur le
mmoire de M. Burdin intitul: Des turbines hydrauliques ou machines
rotatoires grande vitesse (Report on the memo of Mr. Burdin titled:
Hydraulic turbines or high-speed rotary machines), Annales de chimie et de
physique, vol. 26, pages 207-217. [4] Adrian Osler (October 1981).
Turbinia. (ASMEsponsored booklet to mark the designation of Turbinia as an
international engineering landmark). Tyne And Wear County Council
Museums. Archived from the original (PDF) on 13 April 2011. Retrieved 13
April 2011. [5] Ingvar Jung, 1979, The history of the marine turbine, part 1,
Royal Institute of Technology, Stockholm, dep of History of technology [6]
Multiaxis Thrust Vectoring Flight Control Vs Catastrophic Failure Prevention,
Reports to U.S. Dept. of Transportation/FAA, Technical Center, ACD-210, FAA
X88/0/6FA/921000/4104/T1706D, FAA Res. Benjamin Gal-Or, Grant-Award No:
94-G-24, CFDA, No. 20.108, Dec. 26, 1994; Vectored Propulsion,
Supermanoeuvreability, and Robot Aircraft, by Benjamin Gal-Or, Springer
Verlag, 1990, ISBN 0-387-97161-0, 3-540- 97161-0. 6 Further reading
Layton, Edwin T. From Rule of Thumb to Scientific Engineering: James B.
Francis and the Invention of the Francis Turbine, NLA Monograph Series.
Stony Brook, NY: Research Foundation of the State University of New York,
1992. 7 External links Turbine introductory math 6 8 TEXT AND IMAGE
SOURCES, CONTRIBUTORS, AND LICENSES 8 Text and image sources,
contributors, and licenses 8.1 Text Turbine Source:
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Turbine?oldid=733874856 Contributors: Tobias

Hoevekamp, Bryan Derksen, Koyaanis Qatsi, KamikazeArchon, Mike dill,

Arpingstone, William M. Connolley, Julesd, Trisweb, Glenn, Lommer, Vroman,
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