HP: A Magical Journey

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“I’m sorry. . . but I’d not be comfortable,” said Quinn, “I hope you understand; it’s not you, it’s me. I’m sure someone as pretty as you’ll absolutely be able to find someone much better than me.”

A curly-haired fourth-year Hufflepuff girl to whom Quinn had only ever spoken to in passing and thrice in his office for notes looked down towards her feet and shakily nodded. Quinn held back from sighing as she walked away without again gazing at him, looking rather hurt.

“She was quite good-looking,” said Marcus fairly, after clearing a serving of crisps.

“I don’t know her; if I accepted, it would’ve turned awkward pretty quickly,” answered Quinn, sitting down.

“No, it wouldn’t,” countered Marcus, “you don’t do awkward if it’s not on purpose.”

“. . .Yeah — you know me too well,” sighed Quinn, who was he trying to fool, “I wasn’t one bit interested in taking her to the ball. The entire thing reeked of a day full of chores for me.”

“That’s what — the eighth girl you rejected — what the hell are you doing?!” grumbled Eddie chewing on a strip of bacon, “all the boys hate and admire you at the same time. You don’t know how annoying these contradictory views are — I want to bash your pretty face but at the same time want you to impart some wisdom to me.”

“I don’t have anything to offer. Just follow what Marcus did and go ask a girl out.”

“Yeah,” nodded Marcus, pointing his fork at Eddie, “what’s the worse that can happen? She will say no; you lose nothing.”

“She could say eww. . .”

Eddie and Marcus looked at Quinn, who ate a piece of roast chicken.

“Sorry, what did you say? I missed that.”

“Me neither.”

Quinn waved his hand and shook his head with a smile, “Oh, it’s nothing, don’t worry about it. . . Marcus is right, Eddie. Pick a girl you want to take to the ball and ask her out.”

He hit Eddie on his arm, “Where did that year-long enthusiasm go? Bring it back; unleash the legendary virgin power and show everyone what you’re made up of or whatever.”

A pair of girls were passing behind the trio when Quinn spoke and broke into giggles at his words. Eddie tried to merge his face into the table while Marcus seemed unperturbed — he already had a date; Quinn turned towards the girls and flashed them a smile. The blushes that the girls that sported would’ve made a healer worry about their health.

“You reject eight girls, and then you do that; what’re you doing,” asked Marcus seeing the short exchange.

“Well, there has been girl-talk circulating in the castle; I simply wanted to check if it was true,” said Quinn shrugging.

“The smile thing?” asked Eddie, the side of his face flush against the wood.

“Yup~ I have the most charming smile in the entire school.”

“Not surprising given that you constantly moderate your smile,” commented Marcus.

“Thank you, it’s a talent,” Quinn gave Marcus a wink.

“But seriously, what’re you going to do about your date,” said Marcus, “it’s not like for you to leave things to the last date. Sixteen girls asked you out, but you haven’t tried once from your side.”

“I can’t decide who to ask out.”

“Ha!” Eddie sat up straight and pointed at Quinn. “Unleash your virgin power and whatnot and go get a girl. . . yeah, take that.”

“Mate, what’re you doing,” said Quinn looking to his sides.

“Yeah, Eddie, you can’t say things like that,” added Marcus doing the same as Quinn.

“. . .What? He did it first.” Eddie pointed at Quinn.

“That was different,” scoffed Marcus.

“How?!”

“There is a time and place for everything, mate. It wasn’t now,” said Quinn shaking his head.

Eddie stared at his two buddies with an expression of confusion and disbelief.

“What?”

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– (Scene Break) –

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Tap, tap, tap. . . Quinn’s finger tapped away at the desk in his office, staring at Recon laid on his desk. He stared at the map, and the map stared back at him.

Suddenly he leaned in and spoke to Recon, “Daphne Greengrass.”

The map obeyed its creator’s orders, and the ink on cloth shifted to a blue dot moving out of the Hogwarts library.

Quinn leaned back and stared at the map while tapping his foot away. He watched as the dot moved across floors and climbed down the stairs.

“Ah, let’s just do it,” he said and got up from his barstool with Recon packing itself into Quinn’s pocket.

He fixed his clothes while walking towards the door. He opened the door and froze in the spot.

“Quinn.”

“Fleur, what’re you doing here?”

The French Veela standing just outside the door spoke in French, “I’ve something I wanted to talk about.”

“Oh, please do tell; what’s the problem? I’ll try my best to help,” said Quinn continuing in French.

“Aren’t you going to invite me inside?”

“Ah yes, of course, please come in, come in.”

The two entered the office with the MLEs lighting the moment Fleur entered.

“So tell me what seems to be the problem?” asked Quinn as both sat down.

“Are you sure you’re free? It seemed like you were going out,” said Fleur, “if you’re busy, then we can do this when you’re free.”

Quinn shook his head, “It’s okay. . . I’ll take care of that later.” It could wait.

“Good as I need to get this problem solved as soon as possible,” said Fleur, “I’m not sure if I’d be able to solve it if I waited.”

“Oh, what is it?”

“I would like you to be my date at the Yule Ball.”

“. . . Pardon?” The words escaped Quinn’s mouth before his mind could even process the words that were spoken.

“It’s the tradition at Yule Ball that champions and their partners open the ball; as such, it’s compulsory for the champions to have partners.”

“I’m aware of that, Fleur. But why me? It’s only been a few days, and you’ve already got multitudes of invitations. You can choose from one of them.”

“That can be said to you as well. You’ve rejected as many people as I have.”

“Surely you jest, Fleur. I’m sure you rejected far more than I did,” smiled Quinn.

“Let’s not go that way; there will be no end if we start.”

“If you say so, but the question remains, why me when you’ve so many choices to choose from.”

“I could ask the same, why did you reject so many?” asked Fleur crossing her legs.

“I didn’t want to go with someone I don’t know.”

“Then, it goes the same for me.”

Quinn smiled and shook his finger. “Nuh-uh, one of Beauxbatons guys asked you out, but you rejected him the same. . . Fleur, if you don’t tell me the real reason, I won’t be able to help you.”

Fleur sighed and leaned back into her seat with her arms fully resting on the armrests. Fleur looked like she didn’t want to share, but she had to if she wanted to help.

“You already know it,” she said.

“Yes, but I want you to say it,” he insisted.

“. . . Allure, my allure,” she sighed, “none of the guys who invited me could resist it. . . Roger Davies, for a moment, I thought he wasn’t affected, but it turned out he’s just good at hiding it. I could tell from the fleeting glances that stayed a little too long — released a little more, and he was out.”

“Hmm. . . how do usually Veela find their partners? It sounds complicated.”

“Allure is a part of us. If a Veela wants it, they can retract it completely. When Veelas find someone who we like, we completely retract our Allure. . . I can’t do that — yet.”

“I see,” said Quinn followed by a silence in the room.

Fleur watched as Quinn stared at his desk. She couldn’t tell the look in his eyes, but as time went by, she started to feel anxious — a feeling new to her in the current context.

“It’s okay if you don’t—”

“I accept.”

The two people stared at each other, with Fleur watching Quinn with slightly wide eyes.

“You accept? Are you sure?”

Quinn felt the weight of Recon in his pockets that were charmed to be weightless. The thoughts of a blonde flashed through his mind, but he put those aside. Fleur needed his help, and it was easy enough for him to provide.

“. . .Yes, I’m sure,” he said before putting on a smile, “It’ll be my honor to be your date for the Yule Ball. It’ll be a fun evening; I’m looking forward to it.”

“C’est parfait!” she beamed in exclamation.

“Indeed, it is.” ρꪖꪕᦔꪖꪕꪫꪣꫀ​ꪶ​

Fleur looked satisfied, but she had to ask one last thing, “You do know how to dance, right?”

“Know? I’m great at dancing.”

“The day keeps getting better.”

“I live to impress, Fleur. Live and love to impress.”

It was decided — Quinn West and Fleur Delacour were attending the Yule Ball together.

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– (Scene Break) –

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Quinn and Fleur decided not to tell anyone about them going together as each other’s date till it was absolutely necessary. The only one privy to the information was Olympe Maxime, as she had required Fleur to find a date as soon as possible, and if she wasn’t couldn’t find a date, Maxime would arrange one for her.

A couple of days passed once again, and Quinn’s rejection continued to increase, yet the number of girls inviting him to the ball didn’t seem to slow down at all. He still got through one or two rejections a day. The girls seemed to have formed a mentality that there was no harm in trying as if they get rejected, Quinn would refuse gently and utter politeness.

The great hall was no longer safe for him — especially lunches where girls would usually ask him to meet them in private so that they could invite him to the ball. It had become for him to be seen in public as a lot of eyes were on him watching to find if he had found a date; his office was the only “public” place that he could be at peace as no girl dared to use his office to invite him out — Fleur Delacour, an outsider to Hogwarts was an exception.

And while he was free from Yule Ball invitations inside his office, the Yule Ball didn’t leave him as the day the ball was introduced, most of his requests were related to the ball. Guys after guys coming to the office for help regarding dates — while it wasn’t compulsory to get a date for the ball, no guy wanted to go alone; all wanted a girl on their arm.

Knock, knock. . . there was a knock on the door as the door chime alerted Quinn that someone had entered his office.

‘I hope it isn’t another one of the Yule Ball requests,’ he sighed while walking out of his workshop.

He saw a familiar client standing inside his office; she was looking towards the workshop door since before he had walked out.

“Ivy, what can I do for you?” asked Quinn, sitting down on his barstool while asking the girl twin to make herself comfortable. “Given that you’re here alone and not with together with your brother means that it isn’t about the Tri-wizard tournament. So, tell me. . . what has you in trouble?”

“I can be here for the Tri-wizard tournament; you don’t know that.”

‘She’s testy today,’ he noticed.

“You could be, but that seems unlikely given your brother’s attitude regarding this entire situation. . . he would be here if it’s regarding the tournament.”

Ivy didn’t speak immediately; moreover, she continued to stare at him. While Quinn would’ve preferred if she didn’t wordlessly stare at him, he wasn’t that bothered by it and stared back.

When Ivy finally spoke, she dropped a bomb on him.

“I want you to be my date at the Yule Ball.”

‘Why would she ask me out during business hours?’ were his genuine first thoughts, but his words asked a question: “Why?”

“What do you mean why? I want to go with you, so I’m asking.”

Quinn silently stared at her, showing that he wasn’t buying whatever she was selling, and the stubborn girl tried to remain strong against the stare but eventually faltered under the intense stone greys.

“All other boys are either pigs or gits,” she all but whispered.

‘Ah, I see. . .’ he thought, having an inkling where this conversation was going.

“They are either too creepy — honestly, why would I go with someone who I haven’t talked to even once, and yet they act like we have known each other for ages, acting all chummy. . ugh, it sends jitters down my back,” she looked uncomfortable even thinking about it, “the others who actually act civil and invite me properly just want to go with Ivy ‘Potter’ and not me — just Ivy.”

She looked a mix between livid and tired. Harry got attention as the Boy-Who-Lived almost always, drawing the spotlight away from Ivy, who was okay with it as she found the attention tiresome. But this time, she was in as much spotlight as Harry, and it was getting on her nerves.

“Pick a friend and go with him,” suggested Quinn shrugging.

“I can’t. . . I don’t want to go to the ball with Ron, my brother’s best friend. Neville has already found his date, and I don’t think it’s a good idea to go with other Gryffindor boys. . . other than that, I don’t know many boys outside of Gryffindor.”

“I can suggest one charming fellow—”

“I’m not going with Eddie Carmichael. . . Harry will blow his top if I do that. Not something I want to deal with right now.”

“Well, can’t say that I didn’t try,” shrugged Quinn. “and why me, if I may ask?”

“You’re the perfect shield,” said Ivy, seemingly happy with her statement, “if you go with me, there won’t be a single peep from absolutely anyone. Seeing how much she likes you, even mum will be happy with my choice. Dad and Harry like you enough that they won’t act stupid — especially dad, after the incident, he has a splendid view of you.”

“I’m flattered,” said Quinn with a smile which dimmed as he continued, “but unfortunately, I would’ve to respectfully decline, Ivy.”

“Eh, why?”

“I already have a date.”

“You have?!” she exclaimed a bit too loudly. It wasn’t an exclamation of upset but of surprise.

“When?” asked Ivy.

“A couple of days.”

“A couple of days?!”

“. . . Now you’re just repeating my words.”

Ivy was genuinely shocked as one of the prime topics among the girls across the school was about who the ‘most eligible’ boys were going with to the Yule Ball, and Quinn was there right at the top hanging with the champions and to hear that he already had a date when everyone was still wondering who he was taking was startling news.

“Who’re you taking,” she asked.

Quinn stared at the redhead, and given their relationship, he didn’t mind telling who he was taking to the ball, and Ivy knew better than to leak his secrets. So he replied,

“Fleur Delacour.”

“. . .You’re taking the Veela?” asked Ivy and studied Quinn, looking for something.

“I’m not under the influence of Allure if that’s what you’re wondering.”

“O-Oh.”

“So,. . . sorry about this, but I can’t take you.”

“It’s okay. . . It seems I was a little too late.”

“. . .Yeah.”

Ivy leaned into her chair and sighed while looking at the ceiling. She wanted to get up and escape immediately but held back as that would make things awkward.

“Would you’ve accepted if I came earlier?” she asked.

“To be honest, I don’t know. . . I might or might not have accepted it. It would’ve depended on that moment.”

“What about if I asked you to be my date as part of a job?”

Ivy heard a laugh in response, followed by a happy-sounding Quinn saying: “You’re a smart girl, Ivy Potter. If you came to me leading with that, your chances would’ve definitely increased.”

His answer brought a bit of a smile to her face.

Shortly after, Ivy got up to leave, with Quinn walking her out. As she exited, Ivy heard Quinn call out to her.

“Yes?” she asked.

“Save me a dance?”

“. . . Sure,” she answered.

In a way, she had confirmed that she would be attending the ball.

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– (Scene Break) –

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Ivy stood in the corridor, looking at the mood overhead while leaning on a ledge, thinking about her meeting with Quinn.

“Ah, I got rejected.”

Even though her reason behind asking Quinn was so that she could escape the constant stream of boys bothering her. . .

“And I was looking forward to it,” she sighed.

Quinn had worked with her, Harry, and Hermione for two weeks to prepare Harry for the first task. Those two weeks were tough, not only for Harry but for her and Hermoine as well. Quinn West was a taskmaster when he needed to be. They learned more than they had learned in a while, and that was saying something when you took Hermione Granger and Ivy Potter into context.

But those same two weeks were fun as well. They had fun, and Quinn had managed to turn what would’ve been tense times into generally upbeat sessions.

Ivy thought if she had gone with Quinn, her evening would’ve been the same fun.

“I knew Delacour was a possibility, but I was sure it would be—”

“What are you doing?”

Ivy turned to see a furrowed brow on the generally expressionless resting face of the blonde girl, with who she was well familiar.

“Daphne.”

The girl who Ivy had been thinking had appeared in front of her.

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Quinn West – MC – Being famous is hard.

Fleur Delacour – Champion – Being a Veela is hard.

Ivy Potter – Potter Princess, Twin – Being a Potter is hard.

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