HP: A Magical Journey

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“This isn’t a runic circle!” yelled Quinn, pointing at the marble stratum, “this is a fuc—,” his voice went high-pitched, “this is a ritual — a runic ritual!”

What was a ritual? Ritual magic was an esoteric form of magic that delved into the deep mysteries of arcana. The works included in ritual magic were characterized by ceremony and numerous requisite accessories to aid the practitioner. It can be seen as an extension of ceremonial magic and synonymous with it in most cases.. Popularized by the Hermetic Order of the Golden Dawn, it draws on such schools of philosophical and occult thought as Hermetic Qabalah, Enochian magic, Thelema, and the magic of various grimoires.

Ritual magic came in many forms — potions, alchemy, astrology, sacrificial, and in this case, runic.

The practice of ritual magic often required tools made or explicitly consecrated for that use, which were necessary for a particular ritual or series of rituals. They were a symbolic representation of psychological elements of the magical or of metaphysical concepts.

It just so happened the “tool” for this particular ritual was the entire marble platform and the nine layers of rune etched into the stone — the runes that Quinn had himself fixed with so much enthusiasm.

“Damn it!” he cursed. Quinn wanted to pound the marble into shatters but didn’t — it had taken a lot of time to fix it.

“Calm down, calm down,” he breathed, reigning his anger, “it’s okay, it’s fine. . . . it’s just unlocked my animagus form. . . . it’s all good.”

But he groaned and squatted down, his head hanging down. If he knew that this was a ritual, he would’ve never activated it — at most, he would have fixed it and showed it to Friar, but other than that, Quinn would’ve left it alone.

Rituals were a branch of magic that Quinn stayed away from — to be specific, he hadn’t studied ritual in any of its forms. . . . yet. Rituals were magic of a permanent kind, which meant once you performed a ritual to add a certain quality to the target, reversing the applied change became extremely difficult.

This was a problem as ritual magic was highly complicated and required a vast array of knowledge to perfect and gain practical competence — in some ways, ritual magic was even more difficult than traditional alchemy. Quinn knew better than anyone that he wasn’t ready to perform rituals as he severely lacked esoteric magic knowledge.

And the fact that the animagus ritual that he had just undergone was targeted at himself — a living body, made it even worse as if a permanent change applied to his body went wrong, Quinn would be stuck with it until he found a way to reverse it. This was one thing that Quinn refused to happen to him as he didn’t want to compromise the integrity of his body.

The trifecta — mind, body, and soul, were the essence of oneself, and only when they were in balance was a magical able to pull and utilize magic to its full extent. This applied even more to Quinn as he didn’t use a wand; as such, he didn’t have an external focus to help things along if his trifecta sprung out of balance.

“I can’t have them go out of balance, not again.”

Yes, Quinn had already experienced his trifecta going out of balance once, and the result was him losing the entirety of his ability to focus and mold magic. The Sin curse had struck through the soul and then thrown a wrench into his mind, making the trifecta deviate from its original balance.

“Ugh, alright, let’s not think about it,” he groaned before laying down and doing a kip-up to get up, “let’s enjoy all the time and effort this saved me.”

In the end, the truth was that being part of this ritual had saved quite a bit of effort from his part.

It took skill, practice, and patience for magicals to become Animagi. The process of becoming an animagus was long and arduous and had the potential to backfire and cause the transformation to go horribly wrong. Many magicals simply felt that their time might better be employed in other ways, as the skill was of limited practical use unless one had a great need of disguise or concealment.

Part of the process by which one became an animagus was holding a mandrake leaf in their mouth for an entire month — a whole month of having a leaf in his mouth while he spoke, drank, ate, and brushed his teeth sound torturous to Quinn — he had tasted a mandrake leaf before, it as far as from minty fresh as heaven was to hell.

The significance of that month was to prepare the leaf to be used in the animagus potion, which required the brewer to recite an incantation (Amato Animo Animato Animagus) daily at very precise times, which were the only time of the day during which the brewer was allowed to tend to the potion.

If done incorrectly, the process was extremely difficult and could result in disaster (such as permanent half-human, half-animal mutations). A magical had to keep a single mandrake leaf in their mouth for an entire month (from full moon to full moon). If the leaf was removed or swallowed, the witch or wizard would have to start over again.

If, at the time of removing the leaf, which was the next visible full moon, the sky was cloudy, then the progress was ruined, and the magical was required to start over. At the next visible full moon, the wizard had to spit the leaf in a vial within range of the moon’s pure rays. To the moon-struck vial, the wizard or witch must add one of their own hairs, a silver teaspoon of dew that had not seen sunlight or been touched by human feet for seven days, and the chrysalis of a Death’s-head Hawk Moth. The mixture had to then be put in a quiet, dark place and could not be in any way disturbed.

Just this enough was so complicated that even many of those who were determined to attain their animagus form gave up halfway through.

The next thing that had to happen was for the wizard to wait for a lightning storm, whenever that might be. During this waiting period, the magical would have to, at sunrise and sundown without fail, chant the incantation Amato Animo Animato Animagus with the tip of their wand placed over the heart. When, at last, there was a lightning storm, the wizard had to move immediately to a large and secure place, recite the incantation one final time before then drinking the potion.

“Rita Skeeter must really like her job to go through all that effort — total respect,” thought Quinn out loud, “so did the Marauders — friendship goals right there.”

Quinn, of course, had plans to become an animagus; he was going to start the process during the summer break at home, where he would have the freedom to portkey to a dessert to avoid clouds on the full moon night and similarly go to a rainforest for lightning storms. Outside of school, he could use magic to speak without having to attract eyes and repeated questions.

He rubbed his hand and looked all excited, “Now, let’s get to the good part.”

Quinn closed his eyes and felt the magic coursing through his body. He pulled on it, molded it, and finally triggered it — it was sudden — Quinn could feel his body change in real-time, being fashioned into another form as magic broke it down and reformed it into a much smaller and distinct shape.

He opened his eyes and saw the ground was really close to his eye level — it was a feeling that he wasn’t used to, and if he was being honest, made him feel small — which he currently was. The feeling of not having fingers was another thing that felt odd — it wasn’t uncomfortable, just odd.

‘As I thought, the ritual did actually add things to the mix.’ thought Raven-Quinn.

An Animagus would still think as a human did when they were in their animal form, seeing as Rita Skeeter could eavesdrop on others’ conversations when she was in the form of a beetle. However, an Animagus’ feelings were not as complex when they were in their animal form. A Dementor’s influence on an Animagus in its animal form was weaker than on its human form. But right now, Quinn could feel the full spectrum of his emotions; there were no changes from his base human form.

‘Nice,’ he felt satisfied; Quinn didn’t feel like dulling his emotions, “now, let’s get to the main act.”

Quinn spread his wings with what he thought was a charming caw and started to flap them.

“Caw, caw,” what it meant was, ‘Woah, this is uncanny.’

His heart pounded in his bird chest, but strangely he didn’t feel scared — on the contrary, it was thrilling. Raven-Quinn sloppily flapped his wing and flew like a chick on his first flight.

‘Oh, I’m getting it. I’m getting it.’ Slowly but surely, Quinn got used to his wings, his very light body, and got a handle to fly.

For ten mins, he flew above the marble before deciding that he was good enough and flew out of the room towards the Beelzebub’s Creepers mine, and with complete confidence, he flew out of the lower tunnel, traveled through the air, and flew into the upper tunnel without provoking any vines. Soon, Quinn was out of the Underground vault and was flying through the Forbidden Forest, doing the raven version of the obstacle course, weaving through canopies and tree vines.

It felt amazing.

Maybe this is what Eddie feels when he’s on a broom, thought Quinn. Eddie always spoke of the freedom he felt while flying — it was as if he was in another world. At this moment, Quinn finally understood why humankind craved wings — why flying held such glamor in the minds of the countless individual.

Quinn caw-ed loudly in excitement.

Then suddenly, he sensed something from his left, and his stone-grey raven eyes saw a blob of white. He crookedly turned his bird body in the air and was able to dodge it just in time. He landed on a branch and vigilantly gazed around to see a small acromantula crawling down from a tree and towards his tree.

‘Uh-huh, shouldn’t have done that. . . . but—’

He opened his beak, spread his wings, and caw-ed for gusts and blades of wind to emit out to chop the acromantula’s legs off.

Quinn could use magic in his animagus form.

It was how he could see in the Forbidden Forest.

While in animagus form, magicals couldn’t use traditional magic, but the ritual had granted him the ability to continue cast magic.

‘Though it’s a little difficult. I just need a little practice.’

Quinn stared down at the legless acromantula and retook flight, leaving the Forbidden Forest and flying towards the castle.

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The mood in the castle as they entered June became excited and tense again. Everyone was looking forward to the third task, which would occur a week before the end of term.

Cedric looked as they went together down the stone steps, out into the cloudy night, “What do you reckon it’s going to be? Fleur keeps going on about underground tunnels; she reckons we’ve got to find treasure.” ρꪖꪕᦔꪖꪕꪫꪣꫀ​ꪶ​

“That wouldn’t be too bad,” said Harry, thinking that he would simply ask Hagrid for a niffler to do the job for him.

They walked down the dark lawn to the Quidditch stadium, turned through a gap in the stands, and walked out onto the field.

“What’ve they done to it?” Cedric said indignantly, stopping dead.

The Quidditch field was no longer smooth and flat. It looked as though somebody had been building long, low walls all over it that twisted and crisscrossed in every direction.

“They’re hedges!” said Harry, bending to examine the nearest one.

“Hello, there!” called a cheery voice.

Quinn was standing in the middle of the field with Krum and Fleur. Harry and Cedric made their way toward them, climbing over the hedges.

“Well, what do you think?” said Quinn happily as Harry and Cedric climbed over the last hedge. “Growing nicely, aren’t they? Give them one more week, and they’ll be twenty feet high. Don’t worry,” he added, grinning, spotting the less-than-happy expressions on Harry’s and Cedric’s faces, “you’ll have your Quidditch field back to normal once the task is over! Now, I imagine you can guess what we’re making here?”

No one spoke for a moment. Then —

“So this is the maze,” grunted Krum.

“That’s right!” said Bagman. “A maze. Just like I said before in our meeting. The third task’s really very straightforward. The Triwizard Cup will be placed in the center of the maze. The first champion to touch it will win. There will be obstacles; Hagrid is providing several creatures.”

Harry, who knew only too well the kind of creatures that Hagrid was likely to provide for an event like this, thought it was unlikely to be any fun at all. However, he nodded politely like the other champions.

“No underground tunnels?” asked Fleur.

“No tunnels,” replied Quinn. He looked at everyone waiting for questions. “Very well . . . if you haven’t got any questions, we’ll go back up to the castle, shall we, it’s a bit chilly. . . .”

They had none.

Krum went away like a lone wolf without saying a single word while Cedric and Harry left after saying a good night.

Quinn glanced back and saw Fleur still standing there behind him.

“Hey,” he said.

“Hey,” she replied.

After their kiss at the second task, things hadn’t proceeded any further; instead of things getting heated, they had cooled down. While Quinn had let himself be taken over by the heat of the moment, but after that, he got himself back in control and went back to sticking to his initial decision to not start anything with Fleur.

“You’re chipper today,” said Fleur as she started to walk.

“Yes,” smiled Quinn and fell into step with Fleur, “I closed the last bit of remaining work related to the tournament yesterday. Today was a free day for me after a very long time.” Furthermore, he now knew what the marble runes did; as such, he wasn’t in a hurry to study them. Moreover, he had repaired the runes, so he knew the designs by memory and could study them anytime he wanted.

“Ah, so that’s why you didn’t complain like you did last time.”

Quinn chuckled and nodded, “Yes, unlike last time, I’m free now. So no problem to take out half an hour for this.”

“I see.”

The two fell into silence for a few seconds before Quinn asked, “What are your plans to do after this?”

“I’ll probably go spend some time under the tutelage of grandmother,” replied Fleur while gazing at the moon, “mother says that it’s high time I fully got my Allure under control.”

“That sounds smart. What after that?”

“I don’t know, haven’t thought about it yet.”

“Have you thought about, you know, joining one of the West firms? I’m sure Lia would love to have a Tri-wizard champion join the ranks. Moreover, it’s easier for Beauxbatons’ students to get in — the hiring team wouldn’t even blink if you apply.”

“Maybe,” said Fleur. West hired a lot of students from Beauxbatons — it was up to a students’ skill what level of job they bagged. “Or maybe, I’ll go work under my father — he spent the entire break last year trying to persuade me to join him.”

“Joining politics, huh. That might be a suitable occupation for you — no offense, but a Veela has an edge with anything to with public communication.”

“None taken,” she shrugged — it was true, “actually, my father wants me to start from the Auror department like he did and then make my way up from there.”

“Oh! Aurors — the best of the best. A good path if you want it.”

“It is, but I’m not sure if I want to do that. Being an Auror doesn’t sound appealing to me,” said Fleur before turning the question to Quinn, “what about you? What do you wanna do after Hogwarts?”

“I’m going to travel after Hogwarts — learn magic from all over the world,” replied Quinn.

“What about after that?”

“Absolutely no idea. I’ll probably continue researching, but maybe I’ll give being an Auror a try or a professor or maybe continue traveling and become a traveling author. . . . who knows what the future me would want to do,” said Quinn. He truly didn’t know what he was going to do except continue learning magic and keep inventing things.

“Travel, huh. That sounds fun.”

“It is. You should give it a try. It really opens up the world view.”

“Maybe I’ll do that too.”

The two eventually reached the Beuxbatons carriages and faced each other.

They both knew what the other was thinking — Fleur found Quinn attractive, and on some level, Quinn did too — he got along with Fleur, and she was undoubtedly pretty. There was potential.

But. . .

“Good night, Fleur.”

“Good night, Quinn.”

. . .It wasn’t to be.

Fleur Delacour wasn’t interested in a long-term relationship.

Quinn West didn’t feel anything beyond finding her physically attractive. . . . and with the third task coming, the curtain was about to rise for a shift in the winds over the British Wizarding World.

And he was going to spend two more years right in the middle of it.

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Quinn West – MC – Should I transfigure another eye while in animagus form.

Fleur Delacour – Veela – She would do excellent in anything public speaking.

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