HP: A Magical Journey

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Quinn closed both of his eyes, and now all he could see was the scene transmitted by the artificial eye from Project: Drone Vision. In the originals, Fleur had somewhat gone through the same thing, and in that time, she had come out without any major mishaps.

While the situation had changed this time around — the three champions had gotten to their hostages without much hassle or problems, but that didn’t mean Fleur would come out unharmed as well. He contemplated his next move, and with the loud discussions from stands made him think that he needed to make a discussion very soon.

He opened his left “unconnected” eye to see the judges’ reactions and saw that Dumbledore, Bagman, Karkaroff, and Crouch all were looking at his overhead illusion, but other than the low varying level of worries, all men looked otherwise unbothered — it was only Olympe Maxime who looked genuinely anxious about her champion’s condition.

Fleur’s unheard words were still sounding loud in his years.

Then there were sudden gasps all across the stands as everyone saw Fleur’s bubblehead charm shrunk dangerously close to her face — receding from below the neck level to just below the chin.

‘Okay, I need to do something — or she’s going to drown,’ he thought, feeling a little panicked himself, ‘and it’s going to happen in front of everyone else — yup, yup, yup, I should do it right now.’

Immediately, the water beneath his feet, which was keeping him afloat above, gave way, and he sank below without making a splash, leaving behind just a hint of a circular wave from where he was standing.

On the judges’ platform, Karkaroff glared at Dumbledore, “Where did he go, Dumbledore? What are your students doing now?”

Dumbledore glanced at Karkaroff and shrugged with a hint of a smile on his face, “I have no idea what he’s doing. Mr. West. . . for the most part. . . . likes to do things on his own, at his own pace, at his own discretion.”

“You lie. First, you enter two champions, and now this!”

“He hasn’t done anything yet, Igor,” Dumbledore pointed up at the illusion still running, “let’s see what he does; I’m sure it will be entertaining and isn’t that what we are going here for?”

Dumbledore merrily laughed while Karkaroff frowned deeply.

Sitting by their side, Olympe’s eyes were fixed with the illusion; she tapped away at the armrest of her chair, with a pit sitting in the base of her stomach. She had complete confidence in Fleur to handle herself, but that was when Fleur had a wand in her hand — right now, she didn’t have one, which in itself was the worst nightmare for a witch.

“I see him. . . I can see Mr. West,” said Barty Crouch Sr, as stern as ever. He hadn’t shown up at the Yule Ball or for work at the ministry because of bad health, but he was back now — healthy as a bull.

Everyone saw Quinn in the illusion, swimming towards Fleur from her backside as the artificial eye was positioned at Fleur’s front.

Tracey sitting in the stands, nudged Astoria and whispered, “It’s just like the time when he came outside the common room windows.”

Astoria nodded as she and everyone could see that Quinn’s hands and feet had gained webbing, and he had gill flaps on his neck and chest.

“Where did he ditch his clothes?” Tracey turned towards the speaker and gazed at Eddie, who was sitting beside her watching the illusion with a thoughtful look. In the illusion, Quinn was in nothing but a pair of swimming trunks.

Dumbledore studied the illusion — specifically Quinn, and assessed the gills and webbed feet and hands. “Those aren’t from gillyweed like Mr. Potters. . . . then, they are transfigurations, hmm. But why does he have gills on his chest — wait a minute, are they directly connected? Oh my, if that’s the case, then that’s some impressive work.” Even from seeing just an image fabricated from Quinn’s memory, Dumbledore could tell precisely what magic Quinn was using.

. . .

Quinn shot every grindylow, trapping Fleur with jets of stunning spell directed through his fake wand. Not a single little snickering water midget was able to escape or even had a chance to escape. He came to the front and was immediately stunned. . .

‘She’s unconscious,’ he saw that her bubblehead charm was still intact, ‘but she isn’t getting enough air through it.’ he poked his fake wand into her bubble and cast a much sturdier bubblehead charm, once again resuming an ample supply of oxygen for Fleur.

Quinn grabbed her by the waist and looked up; he could send her back to the shore right from here, but that would attract attention and with it suspicion. His power stint last year, which led him to split the lake, garnered a lot of attention. Students and professors alike had visited and staked the lake for weeks to figure what had happened.

Dumbledore himself, at that time and when planning for the second task, had extensively investigated the abnormality. Both times, he had examined the lake for a month and talked with the merpeople. All he got from his efforts was that the giant squid (Kraken) had been active a lot, moving around, causing underwater waves, but other than that, even they didn’t know the cause of the bizarre incident.

Quinn knew all of this because he had chanced upon Dumbledore talking to a merperson. That very day Quinn had gone and made sure that the entrance to the Aquatic vault was hidden from sight so that if Dumbledore ever did go close to the entrance, he would miss it.

Standing on the water was fine, but if he sent Fleur up from here, that would be a massive giveaway and might turn him into a prime suspect.

Quinn swam up, pulling Fleur with him; he had to shoot a couple more grindylows on the way, but otherwise, Quinn got Fleur out as soon as possible.

Outside on the surface, everyone saw Quinn and Fleur pop out of the water. They watched as Quinn set Fleur flat on the water surface as if it was solid and himself used the lake surface to climb up before picking up Fleur in his arms and walked towards the stands.

Poppy came running out on the platform from where the champions had jumped as he got close to the stands. “Quinn, how’s she, status?”

“She’s fine, just fainted. Her bubblehead charm shrunk and couldn’t provide enough air to her,” replied Quinn, “she’ll be fine — just need to get up on her own.”

“Okay, pass her up,” she needed to check for herself just to be safe and sure.

Quinn clutched his fake wand and was about to wave it in the motion for a body levitation charm but felt Fleur’s arms tighten around her neck.

“. . . .Quinn,” he heard a soft and faint whisper. He glanced down and saw Fleur looking at him with half-lidded eyes.

“Yes? I’m here.”

“. . . .Gabrielle.”

“She’s fine,” he said, as unlike her, he knew that the hostages weren’t in any danger.

“Where. . . is she?”

“. . . She’s fine and safe.”

Her eyes once again began closing, but before they fully closed, she spoke on last time, “Bring her up, please.”

Quinn sighed as his lie failed the deception check, “. . . . Yeah, I will get her up.”

“Hmm. . . .”

He sent her up to Poppy to get checked up and brought up back to health. Now it was time to get Gabrielle back up. He turned around, and before the judges could say anything, Quinn sunk back in, not giving them a chance to stop them.

Quinn knew that Dumbledore would call up a merperson who would then go back to get Gabrielle back up. . . . while that was fine, it would take too much time — Fleur might be up and running, and if she saw her sister still missing, she would panic; as such, he wanted to get Gabrielle before Fleur woke up. . . . Because Quinn was sure that Fleur was barely half-conscious in their conscious.

Quinn cut the connection to the artificial eye and, with it, erased the illusion. He finally opened his right eye, and immediately, water around started to move, and he zapped towards the merpeople village to retrieve Gabrielle. He cut the water magic just before he was within sight and swam normally towards the statue to which Gabrielle was tied.

He stepped on the lake bed and finally saw an asleep, floating Gabrielle. He walked normally as if he wasn’t in the water, and when a merperson swam in his path, Quinn waved a hand, gesturing to move aside. But the merperson didn’t move and stared at Quinn sternly.

Maybe it was because Quinn was in a hurry or because he had so much water around him, and it felt terrific as if power was filling him that he waved his hand once again, and the merperson was swept away by an underwater wave, leaving the path free which Quinn briskly walked to reach Gabrielle.

He simply looked at the five merfolk standing nearby, and they didn’t dare approach him. He untied the little Veela, and just like his sister, he took off with her, this time just faster, courtesy of water magic. The merpeople could only stand and watch as Quinn left with the hostage that they had to protect.

When he finally emerged, everyone screamed, cheered, and applauded as if he was a champion. Quinn stared at them with a partially surprised expression. Then his face changed from surprise to a bit of furrow in his brow because he saw a wide awake Fleur wrapped in towels, staring at him — no, staring at Gabrielle, who had woken up from her enchanted sleep (coming out of the water was the trigger.)

He walked to the champion’s platform and waved his fake wand, which made the water under his rise up, pushing him up — he kept it pretty wobbly just to be safe. ρꪖꪕᦔꪖꪕꪫꪣꫀ​ꪶ​

“Oh, Gabrielle.” French flew out of Fleur’s mouth as she received Gabrielle from Quinn and hugged her confused sister.

“Come here, you,” said Madam Pomfrey. She took Gabrielle from Fleur and, under the watchful eye of Fleur, warmed up Gabrielle and checked if the young girl was up.

A third-year Hufflepuff called out softly to Quinn and shyly handed him a towel. Quinn smiled and received it with a smile — he didn’t actually need the towel, but he pretended to wipe his face as magic stipped water of from his body. He handed the towel back with a thank you, making the girl blush.

He looked down, and he was still in his swim shorts and then at the lake where he had stripped himself of his cloth in the heat of the moment. He shrugged and conjured a simple shirt around his body.

“Well done, Mr. West!” Dumbledore cried. “you brought Ms. Delacour just in time, though going after Ms. Gabrielle was a little hasty — but, I understand.”

“Thank you, headmaster,” smiled Quinn, “I was the closest; it was just natural for me to help out.”

He also noticed Karkaroff watching him. He was the only judge who had not left the table, the sole judge not showing signs of pleasure and relief that Fleur and Gabrielle had got back safely. Quinn smiled and nodded towards Karkaroff with a short head bow.

Quinn looked back at Dumbledore just to find that the old headmaster was missing. Dumbledore was crouching at the water’s edge, deep in conversation with what seemed to be the chief merperson, a particularly wild and ferocious-looking female. He was making the same sort of screechy noises that the merpeople made when they were above water; clearly, Dumbledore could speak Mermish. Finally, he straightened up, turned to his fellow judges, and said, “A conference before we give the marks, I think.”

The judges went into a huddle. Poppy had gone to rescue Ivy and Harry from Lily’s clutches; she led him over to Daphne and the others, gave them a blanket and some Pepper up Potion. Quinn had been a little too fast in his rescue.

As Poppy dealt with the champions and hostages, Quinn squatted at the platform’s edge and looked deeply at the lake while pointing his fake wand. A dozen seconds later, his clothes came flying out, sloshing in water, thoroughly soaking.

“He-eh,” he smiled and insta-dried his clothes. Quinn stood up and turned to see Fleur standing just behind him. “Woah! . . . . Hey, how’re you feeling?” he asked.

The Veela threw her arms around Quinn’s neck and kissed him deeply right on the lips. Quinn was so surprised that he froze for a second before he remembered that. . . . kissing felt really good. So he leaned into it, and subconsciously his hands went to her waist.

Everyone. . . . everyone who could see Fleur and Quinn stared at the couple — which was a lot of people, including all on the platform (judges, champions, hostages, Poppy, and Lily.)

Harry, Cedric, and Krum stared at the pair with their mouths open a little (Cedric got a jab which closed his mouth). The judges held varying expressions with Dumbledore smiling, “young people. . .” Poppy and Lily looked a bit scandalized to see blatant kissing happening in front of them.

Finally, Ivy and Daphne, who were soaking wet with towels around them, stared at Quinn and Fleur. Almost immediately, Daphne’s dislike of Fleur deepened a few levels; she wanted to get up and separate the two but knew she couldn’t do it. Ivy stared at them, and her mind started to play her interaction with Quinn after he saved Harry — his visit to their house, her visits to the AID office, him training them, him rejecting her and how that felt, and finally the dance she shared with him at the Yule Ball. . . . Ivy decided that she didn’t like what was happening in front of her.

After a long and deep kiss, they separated, out of breath. Fleur’s arms now rested on Quinn’s chest as he gazed down at her, his arms still on her waist.

“Not going to lie, but this might be the best thing that happened to me this week — maybe even this month,” and he had found the main, innermost chamber of the fourth vault this month.

Fleur nodded in total agreement, “It was at the top for me as well.”

“Really?”

“Yes.”

“So, I’m definitely much better than okay, aren’t I?”

Fleur chuckled melodiously and nodded, “Yes, you’re better than okay,” she looked up and licked her lips, “much better than okay.”

Quinn beamed, feeling really happy right now, and gazed at the girls in his arms. He knew what he said about not wanting his first relationship to not be a fling, but right now, Fleur looked a little too appealing — he really wanted to kiss her again.

“Ahem.” That fake cough broke Quinn out of his thoughts. He looked and saw Ludo Bagman looking at them. Fleur and Quinn removed their hands from each other, realizing that they had a lot of company.

“Mr. Bagman,” said Quinn, “you can continue for today; please conclude the second task.”

Ludo nodded, knowing it was a request even if there was a please in there.

“Ladies and gentlemen, we have reached our decision. Merchieftainess Murcus has told us exactly what happened at the bottom of the lake and we also saw everything from here, so we have therefore decided to award marks out of fifty for each of the champions, as follows. . . .”

“Fleur Delacour, though she demonstrated excellent use of the Bubble- Head Charm, was attacked by grindylows as she approached her goal and failed to retrieve her hostage. We award her twenty-five points.”

Applause from the stands.

“I deserved zero,” said Fleur, throatily, shaking her magnificent head.

“Cedric Diggory, who also used the Bubble-Head Charm, was third to return with his hostage, though he returned one minute outside the time limit of an hour.” Enormous cheers from the Hufflepuffs in the crowd; Quinn saw Cho give Cedric a glowing look. “We, therefore, award him forty-one points.”

“Viktor Krum used an incomplete form of Transfiguration, which was nevertheless effective and was second to return with his hostage. We award him forty-four points.”

Karkaroff clapped particularly hard, looking very superior.

“Harry Potter used a gillyweed potion to great effect,” Bagman continued. “He returned first and well inside the time limit of an hour. He was the fastest and worked with the most efficiency; as such, we award him a total of forty-eight points.”

Harry looked proud, and Lily was clapping very hard.

Quinn gave a glance to Bagman before stepping forward to take the last announcement for himself, “The third and final task will take place at dusk on the twenty-fourth of June. The champions will be notified of what is coming precisely one month beforehand. Thank you all for your support of the champions.”

‘It’s over,’ Quinn thought, sighing, as Madam Pomfrey began herding the champions and hostages back to the castle to get into dry clothes. . . . but then he felt arms wrap around his waist, and he looked down to see tiny silver-blonde staring at him with her big blue eyes.

“Gabrielle, right?” asked Quinn, pulling a smile.

The girl nodded and spoke in a voice that Quinn thought was very lovely and cute, “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

The little girl continued to stare at Quinn for a few seconds before running away. She had said her thank you, but she feared that Quinn would get all yucky-icky-kissy face with her if she stayed. If Quinn knew her thoughts, he would’ve experienced a very happy blow.

He looked at the lake and smiled. It was a good day. He didn’t notice a few sets of eyes observing him with varying looks.

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Quinn West – MC – Kissing feels really good.

Fleur Delacour – Veela – She failed the task, but the kiss balanced it out.

Daphne Greengrass – Slytherin, Hostage – Doesn’t like Fleur at all.

Ivy Potter – Gryffindor, Hostage – Things are in. . . flux.

Gabrielle Delacour – Little Veela – Kisses are yucky-icky.

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