HP: A Magical Journey

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Sitting in between Fleur and Daphne was a bit awkward for Quinn, but he also had skin thick as an elephant — he soon got used to it.

As it was already eight o’clock, the ball started with a feast. Quinn looked at the plates and cutlery set in front of him. There was no food as yet on the glittering golden plates, but small menus were lying in front of each of them.

Quinn picked up his menu, read it carefully, then said very clearly to his plate, “Pork chops!”

And pork chops appeared. Getting the idea, the rest of the table placed their orders with their plates too. Quinn glanced up at Hermione to see how she felt about this new and more complicated method of dining — surely it meant plenty of extra work for the house-elves? But it seemed that his talk had made a change as Hermione didn’t seem to be bothered by it. She was deep in talks with Harry and hardly seemed to notice what she was eating.

He looked to the other side and saw Daphne conversing with Krum. It surprised him immensely — all the times he had seen Krum, he had never seen the man talk so much, very enthusiastically at that.

“Well, we have a castle also, not as big as this, nor as comfortable, I am thinking,” he was telling Hermione. “We have just four floors, and the fires are lit only for magical purposes. But we have grounds larger even than these — though, in winter, we have very little daylight, so we are not enjoying them. But in summer we are flying every day, over the lakes and the mountains —”

“Now, now, Viktor!” said Karkaroff with a laugh that didn’t reach his cold eyes, “don’t go giving away anything else, now, or your charming friend will know exactly where to find us!”

Dumbledore smiled, his eyes twinkling. “Igor, all this secrecy . . . one would almost think you didn’t want visitors.”

“Well, Dumbledore,” said Karkaroff, displaying his yellowing teeth to their fullest extent, “we are all protective of our private domains, are we not? Do we not jealously guard the halls of learning that have been entrusted to us? Are we not right to be proud that we alone know our school’s secrets and right to protect them?”

“Oh, I would never dream of assuming I know all Hogwarts’ secrets, Igor,” said Dumbledore amicably. “Only this morning, for instance, I took a wrong turning on the way to the bathroom and found myself in a beautifully proportioned room I have never seen before, containing a really rather magnificent collection of chamber pots. When I went back to investigate more closely, I discovered that the room had vanished. But I must keep an eye out for it. Possibly it is only accessible at five-thirty in the morning. Or it may only appear at the quarter moon — or when the seeker has an exceptionally full bladder.”

Quinn smiled into his bite of pork chop — he was really relieved he could smile at the mysterious bathroom. It wasn’t the Room of Requirements, but it had similarities; it would appear when one really wanted to go to a bathroom, but there wasn’t one nearby. He had stumbled upon it so many times that it wasn’t even funny.

Given that Krum had shared something about Durmstrang, Fleur decided to continue the topic.

“This is nothing,” she said dismissively, looking around at the sparkling walls of the Great Hall. “At the Palace of Beauxbatons, we have ice sculptures all around the dining chamber at Christmas. They don’t melt, of course . . . they are like huge statues of diamond, glittering around the place. And the food is simply superb. And we have choirs of wood nymphs, too serenade us as we eat. We have none of this ugly armor in the halls, and if a poltergeist ever entered into Beauxbatons, he would be expelled like that.” She slapped her hand onto the table impatiently.

‘I can create ice that doesn’t melt,’ thought Quinn.

Seeing that Fleur crapped on Hogwarts and praised Beauxbatons, the Hogwarts students on the table started to defend Hogwarts. A heated battle of words began on the table.

‘Well, Hogwarts has me, isn’t that enough,’ mused Quinn in silence, ‘hmm, since when did I become so narcissistic? But it’s the truth, isn’t it? Hmm, isn’t that again narcissism. Wait a minute, which comes first? Truth or narcissism. . . did I fall upon something profound.’

“What about you, Quinn? What do you think,” said Daphne from his left with a slight glare in her eyes — glare directed toward not at him, but his date towards his right.

Quinn felt an arm snake around his right arm. He looked and saw Fleur oh so close to him. “Yes, Quinn. What do you think?”

“. . . Uhm,” Quinn gulped for a few different reasons; he could feel something very soft pressed against his arm and a pleasant scent tickle his nose.

He tightly smiled before taking a deep breath to steady himself and started to think — indeed, what was about Hogwarts that interested him the most. He had been here more than four years — in those four years, what had called out to him the most.

“Just as Headmaster Dumbledore said — even he doesn’t know all of Hogwarts — meaning there are so many places to explore so many things to discover. People say that the ‘unknown’ is scary, but I find the ‘unknown’ inviting. . . . Hogwarts is filled with so many of those unknowns. To me, the castle, these grounds are a treasure trove waiting for someone to dive in and find all of its jewels and gems.”

He rested his chin on the back of his hand and smiled, “That. . . . gives me goosebumps just thinking about it.”

Daphne, Harry, Hermione, Cedric, and Cho all looked at Quinn — this peer of theirs was famous for many things, but, before being the best of his best, before AID, before everything else, Quinn West was recognized for his penchant for being out after curfew at night and that he couldn’t be found for hours at a time during the day.

“That sounds like you, Mr. West. You’ve certainly have been an avid explorer,” chuckled Dumbledore from his behind his half-moon glasses, “do you know, Mr. West even found a secret passageway leading to outside the school grounds?”

“Please, Headmaster, I would like if you don’t bring my dark past to light — to be caught sneaking out of the school, how embarrassing.”

His reply made Dumbledore laugh. The old Headmaster understood what Quinn actually meant.

When all the food had been consumed, Dumbledore stood up and asked the students to do the same. Then, with a wave of his wand, all the tables zoomed back along the walls leaving the floor clear, and then he conjured a raised platform into existence along the right wall. A set of drums, several guitars, a flute, a cello, and some bagpipes were set upon it.

The Weird Sisters now trooped up onto the stage to wildly enthusiastic applause; they were all extremely hairy and dressed in black robes that had been artfully ripped and torn.

“Let’s go. It’s time for us to open the dance,” Quinn heard Fleur’s word whispered into his ear.

The Weird Sisters struck up a slow, mournful tune; Quinn walked onto the brightly lit dance floor, and the next moment, he had Fleur’s hands in his with the other on her back.

Everything in the world ceased to exist as Quinn directed all of his attention to his very beautiful partner, who also seemed to be looking just at him. Then they started to dance to the tune of the music, and the thoughts about a crowd watching them escaped their minds.

“You dance well,” praised Fleur.

“You’re an easy partner to lead,” replied Quinn in counter-praise.

“I like that you’re giving me credit, but Quinn, you don’t have to do it every time; sometimes it’s better to simply accept the praise.”

“Then thank you for the praise, Fleur. I’m a good dancer.”

“Much better.”

The pair continued to talk, and other people had also entered the dance floor — they, along with other champion pairs, were no longer the centre of attention, but Quinn and Fleur didn’t care about them and simply continued dancing, enjoying each other’s proximity.

. . .

While Quinn and Fleur weren’t paying much attention to others, they were definitely paying attention to them.

Fleur’s hold on her Allure had subconsciously weakened a level. Gentle waves of Veela Allure drifted from her, spreading towards the surroundings. In certain circumstances, a Veela’s Allure just didn’t make herself attractive — right now, as everybody watched, Fleur Delacour and Quinn West looked like a pair chosen by heaven. The pair looked so attractive that the people outside the dance floor only had eyes for them.

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“They look so good together.”

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“Are they together?”

“Wouldn’t that be fitting? They seem like the perfect couple.”

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“Only if I could get someone like Quinn.”

“If I would’ve asked Fleur out, it would’ve been there.”

“Dream on, pal.”

“I could say the same to you.”

. . .

Quinn heard the final, quavering note from the bagpipe with a sense of satisfaction. The Weird Sisters stopped playing, applause filled the hall once more, and Quinn smiled at Fleur.

“The song is over, Fleur.”

“Yes, and?”

“Your grips still on, you know?”

Fleur didn’t let Quinn go from their dance stance, standing close to him, gazing up at him with a smile. “Do you not like it?”

“There is nothing to not like here, Fleur, but as I told you before, I’ve some prior commitments to fulfil.”

“Dancing with other girls even though you have me — that isn’t flattering, my dear date.”

“Oh, please. We both know you, too, have to go and mingle around.”

“That’s true,” she sighed, “let’s hope some of them could handle me.”

The two separated and looked around the dance floor and the hall to find their respective objectives.

“I think we should start with the other champions?” suggested Quinn.

Fleur gazed around as she lightly hummed, “I see Harry Potter and his date. Should we go to them? Yes, Harry Potter would do; he can withstand a good amount.”

“Alright, let’s start with them; I did ask Hermione for a dance.”

. . .

Harry Potter and Hermione Granger danced together, revolving slowly with gently steering around the floor; the two looked at peace with a tinge of embarrassment flushing their cheeks. The two had been facing many waves and sniggers while dancing alone with other champions.

“You weren’t lying when you said you know how to dance,” said Hermione. ρꪖꪕᦔꪖꪕꪫꪣꫀ​ꪶ​

“Glad you finally believe me,” grinned Harry, “Dad had always been insistent that Ivy and I should know how to dance; mum was all for it. Though I’ve only danced with Ivy for the most.”

Then the pair heard a cheerful voice call out, “Harry, my boy.”

Both looked to see Quinn walking towards them with a jolly look on his face. “You two look utterly dashing.”

Harry and Hermione exchanged glances. “Thank you. You too as well,” said Harry.

“Thank you, Harry. Now I would like to ask your very lovely date to a dance,’ said Quinn, then turning to Hermione, “May I have a dance, my fair lady.”

“Huh, what?” said Harry, confused.

Quinn glanced back at Harry and reached out his hand. “Here, take this.”

Harry instinctively raised his hand to receive and found a familiar wrapped chocolate cube in his palm. “Chocolate?”

“You know what? Give that back,” smiled Quinn and took back the cube, then pointed with chin towards Harry’s back, “you’re about to get something much sweeter.”

Harry turned and saw Fleur Delacour standing behind with a charming smile on her face, “Good evening Harry, you clean up well.”

The boy turned back just to see Quinn leading his equally surprised date away with his hand on her back.

“Don’t worry, you’ll get her back after a dance,” he heard Fleur say, “until then, let’s have some fun.”

“Huh?”

. . .

“Ms. Granger, I must admit, even though I think Fleur is unquestionably eye-catching, but you’re the one who made the most impact today,” said Quinn dancing with a still reeling Hermione, “I mean look at you — you look spectacular tonight.”

Hermione looked the taller Quinn; he wasn’t as tall as Ron, but taller than Harry. Both Ron and Harry had lean physiques, but with Quinn’s much wider arms holding her, she couldn’t help but compare — Quinn West definitely worked out.

‘What am I thinking?!’ Hermione lowered her face to hide the blush on her cheeks; her face was betraying her embarrassing thoughts.

“T-Thank you.”

“Any progress on the golden egg?”

Hermione sighed, hearing the question, “He’s taking it slow. I don’t think he has even been to the library to research on the golden egg. . . . What about Fleur Delacour, how much progress has she made?”

“Ms. Granger, why do you assume that I know how’s Fleur doing on her egg?”

“Are you not her date?”

“While that might be true, I only get to talk to Fleur during meals. Other time, I’m busy with the tournament and my usual commitments.”

“About that. . . . I have to ask, what are those commitments? I believe it’s just not me who’s curious about it. Everyone in the school wants to know.”

“Oh, you know, this and that. But mostly, it’s learning magic.”

“How are you so good at magic? You’re only one year above me,” asked the girl who had fallen in love with magic.

Quinn observed the girl in his arms and thought about his answer. “It’s not a fair comparison, Mr. Granger. I’m from a magical household, who have been surrounded by magic ever since I can remember. . . . Tell me, do you have a computer at home, Ms. Granger.”

Hermione tilted her head in confusion, “Yes, we do. My mum uses it for work. Why do you ask?”

“Do you know how to use it?”

“Yes, mum taught me how to use it since I was five. I like it; it’s fun.”

“Then between you, who had been using it since childhood, and me, who uses it a couple times during summer break, who do you think can work a computer better?”

“I suppose me. I’d be better than you.”

“And I’ve no doubt about it,” agreed Quinn; he knew how to use a computer from his memories, but he was grossly out of touch with the machine, “just like that, it’s natural for me to be better at magic that you’re. I’ve been in contact with it for a time much longer than you have been.”

“But so have Ivy, Harry, and Ron.”

“Not many children learn magic before schooling. It’s a hassle for parents to manage magic-enabled children. Only a few learn things like potions and. . . . has Ivy started you on occlumency?”

“Eh? Ah, yes, she did. It’s a fascinating form of magic.”

“It is,” he could feel her in-progress occlumency shields, “my family allowed to me study magic without restraints. I could study magic as much I wanted, and unlike many children, I liked to read. . . you can understand that, don’t you?”

“. . . .yes, I can,” nodded Hermione, she knew precisely what Quinn meant, “you mean, you had a wand?”

“Oh no, my family wasn’t that permitting. I just studied.”

Hermione nodded and shook her mind of the thought about how children could be very mean and changed the subject, “What did you use a computer for?”

“. . . .for games.”

“Of course, you’re a boy.”

“That I am, and don’t pretend you didn’t play as well,” beamed Quinn, “speaking of games, did you have the chance to open my Christmas present?”

“Ah, yes! I saw it, the wooden box?” she talked excitedly, “what is it? I wasn’t able to open it. I know it can be opened — is it a trick box? It’s a trick box, isn’t it? Is there something in the box, or is the box itself a gift? No! — Don’t tell me! I want to see it on my own.”

Quinn chuckled as he twirled Hermione, “Alright then, I’ll leave it to you. A sense of reward is a strong motivator.”

“. . . .It’s not a jump scare, right?”

A peal of free laughter escaped Quinn without restraint.

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– (Scene Break) –

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Ivy Potter had been watching her friends the entire time she had been at the Yule Ball. Sitting near the side, watching them dance and having fun, while she sat without a date.

‘I know I rejected a lot, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want to dance,’ she thought while sighing.

She took a sip of the punch she had fetched herself and watched the people without a thought in her mind. As she did that, she saw a Quinn walk towards her in a grey suit and a smile on her face.

“Ivy Potter. . . . I’m here for my promised dance.”

The Potter twin stared up at Quinn, and she to admit, he looked quite fetching.

“I don’t know if I should be flattered or worried about your appraising gaze, Ivy,” smiled Quinn, “well, I’m trying to look good, so I will take that glint of approval in your eyes as a compliment.”

Ivy sighed and placed a hand into Quinn’s as she got up. “You’re lucky you’re looking good right now.”

“Thank you,” smiled Quinn as he led the redhead to the dance floor, “you look gorgeous as well.”

“Of course, I do.”

“. . . .hmm, she was right; people should accept compliments.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Hmm, oh nothing, just something I learned.”

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Quinn West – MC – Dance baby, dance~.

Fleur Delacour – Veela – Allue is a mysterious magic.

Hermione Granger – Transformed Beauty – Got a puzzle box from Quinn.

Ivy Potter – Wants To Dance – Sees what she sees, can’t be helped.

FictionOnlyReader – Author – To be continued. . .

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