HP: A Magical Journey

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Quinn apparated on to the King’s Cross Station, Platform Nine-and-Three-Quarters like he usually did on the First of September every year. But unlike every year, when his entry didn’t go unnoticed. Instead, two grim-faced, bearded men in dark suits stared at stood at a distance of a few steps, staring at him without speaking.

Quinn quirked a brow at the two men. “Aurors. . . ? No, you guys are Hit Wizards,” he said.

“That’s a nice eye you got, kid,” said the Hit Wizard with the more glorious beard. “How did you know that we are Hit Wizards and not Aurors?”

Hit Wizards and Aurors worked closely under the DMLE, and because of the nature of their duties, both sub-departments worked closely, and thus the cultures of both were quite similar — dressing sense and the general vibe.

“I can tell,” said Quinn smiling at the two, “you guys feel sharper if that makes sense. Plus, you guys have a more disciplined bearing than Aurors.”

The two Hit Wizards puffed their chests in pride. Most people held Aurors in higher regard than Hit Wizards because of their presence in the community but only Hit Wizards knew that while it was tougher to become an Auror than a Hit Wizard, it was more challenging to stay on the force as a Hit Wizard as they were required to maintain a level of dueling and magic skill to be considered effective. That strict regime had rendered Hit Wizards much more disciplined than their Auror counterparts.

“You apparated here,” said the Hit Wizard with a less glorious beard, but still glorious enough, “do you have a license?”

Quinn took out his Apparition License, which also worked as his age proof, and presented it to the Hit Wizard, who waved a wand at it before nodding. “It’s legitimate,” he said, handing the card back, “you’re good to go. Have fun at school, and stay safe.”

“Thank you for your hard work, both of you. I hope to see you around,” said Quinn, waving them goodbye.

After Quinn left, the Hit Wizard with the more glorious beard asked his less-glorious bearded companion, “What did he mean by ‘see you around?’ “

“Hmm? Probably he meant by seeing us at patrolling Hogsmeade.”

“Ah, that makes sense.”

Quinn walked through the crowd of students and their protective parents, trying to ensure that their children made it onto the Hogwarts Express. The Death Eater threat was fresh in the minds of the public.

Quinn took out his Headboy batch, placed it on the lapel of his maroon suit that he wore over a black shirt and tie, and held his briefcase over his shoulder. He looked behind to watch the King’s Cross on First of September for the last time.

Quinn walked through the train with excited students crowding the corridors.

“Oh ho, Headboy!” said one person, patting Quinn on the shoulder. “I knew they would make you the Headboy; congratulations, mate!”

“Thank you,” said Quinn with a polite smile and then repeated the entire thing to the troupe of students that made that stopped him to wish congratulations. “Thank you.”

Quinn reached the expanded Prefect’s compartment and entered to see a lot of Prefects had already arrived, and half of them were dressed in their Hogwarts robes. Even without looking at their faces, Quinn could tell that they were new fifth-year Prefects.

“Good morning, my dear Prefects,” said Quinn as he closed the door behind him while noticing how all eyes went to his badge. “I’m really looking forward to working with all of you this year, so let’s make it a fun one.” Quinn took a spot in the compartment after the congratulations and took out his pocket watch to check the time, “Hmm, there’s still some time before the departure. We are going to start the first meeting when the train leaves the station, but until then, if you have any questions, please feel free to ask.”

Every year, it was a tradition in the Prefects circle of Hogwarts that the Headboy and Headgirl would give an addressal of sorts to the rest of the Prefects to set the tone for the next year, what to expect, and give a chance for the new Prefects to introduce themselves.

An eager hand went up immediately.

“Yes, Ms. Harper,” asked Quinn, pulling out his mental profile to the brunette fifth-year Slytherin. Ambitious, studious, well-spoken, last checked she was dating a fellow Slytherin, and most importantly, she hadn’t used AID services in her four years at Hogwarts.

“You know of me?” said Harper in surprise before she placed her question. “Doesn’t matter. Are you aware if Professor Dumbledore is going to continue teaching this year?”

“Excellent question,” said Quinn smiling. “From what I have been made aware of, Professor Dumbledore is going back to his full-time Headmaster duties and thus, unfortunately, will not be resuming his teaching duties.”

And unfortunate it was as Harper and the rest of the Prefects looked disappointed at the news — Dumbledore was an excellent teacher after all.

“So, who’s the new professor?” Harper asked.

Quinn had at start doubted if there was going to be a new professor in Hogwarts because Dumbledore had picked up teaching, but after his correspondence with his Hogwarts insider, the ever-lovely Matron Poppy Pomfrey, Quinn had found that Dumbledore had stepped down, and according to Poppy, the faculty had been made aware of the new professor, which meant Quinn knew of the new professor, though he already knew who it was going to be.

“The new professor is going to be—”

The door to the compartment opened, and stood at the threshold were sixth-year Gryffindor Prefects.

“Good morning, Harry, Hermione,” said Quinn to the two pair the Golden Squad. “How are both of you doing this lovely day.”

“Hello, Quinn,” said Hermione entering the compartment with her trunk, which suddenly floated above to the overhead luggage rack and with Harry’s luggage, who hurriedly closed the door, separating him from the people(mostly first years) stared shamelessly; some kids even pressed their faces against the windows of their compartments to get a look at him. Harry’s fame had seen a spike during the summer break after the Ministry incident. And it didn’t look like he enjoyed the sensation of standing in a very bright spotlight as he darkened the windows of the compartment’s door.

“Working hard, eh, Harry,” said Quinn grinning, making the Boy-Who-Lived groan.

“Congratulations, Quinn,” said Hermione, noticing the Headboy batch, “but I guess it isn’t much of a surprise.”

“Thank you, Hermione. I, too, won’t be surprised if you are named the Headgirl the next year,” said Quinn.

“Oh, you jest!” Hermione waved it off with embarrassment, though it was clear from her expression that she liked it. “Ah, Quinn. . . thank you for the Aegis card, Quinn, my parents really appreciated it, especially after the person came home to explain everything in detail,” she said.

Quinn had given the Granger parents a contact card to Aegis to ward their house when he had met them during his visit to the Weasley Wizard Wheezes.

“Did they choose to ward the house?” asked Quinn.

“They did,” said Hermione, and Quinn could see that she was both glad and relieved of her parents’ decision. “And thank god the person was a muggleborn; it was one the reasons they went ahead with the wards.”

“It’s the same for all living in the non-magical society,” said Quinn with a grin and thumbs up. “Making people comfortable is the first part of making a successful sale.”

“Speaking of,” Harry chimed in, “where did you disappear to that day? Ivy said that you disappeared in a hurry.”

“I remembered something I had forgotten, and well, it had to be taken care of urgently,” said Quinn, putting on an embarrassed smile. He couldn’t tell them that the reason he had run out of the shop was that the illegal bug in Amelia Bones’ house had alerted him of an invasion, which turned out to be headed by the Dark Lord by himself.

“Ah, you took care of the thing that you remembered?”

“Yes, it was tough, and I barely got in time, but I got it done.” He had to freeze multiple Death Eaters, stab Bellatrix Lestrange, and rescue Amelia with Voldemort staring at him. And after that, he finished with a comparatively lighter serving of abducting an Auror and then disarming him in front of the then Head of DMLE. ρꪖꪕᦔꪖꪕꪫꪣꫀ​ꪶ​

Quinn was brought out of his thought by Harper. “Um. . . Quinn, about the new professor,” she asked.

“Ah, my apologies, Ms. Harper,” Quinn said, genuinely sorry for forgetting about the previous conversation. “Yes, the new professor—”

The compartment’s door opened again, and this it was the pair of sixth-year Slytherin Prefects who had come to the Prefect’s compartment.

“It has been a while, Malfoy, Parkinson,” said Quinn, greeting the newcomers with the same smile he had given to Harry and Hermione. “Would you like help with your luggage?”

Draco and Pansy looked at Quinn, at his badge, then back up to his face. “No, thank you,” said Draco, pulling out his wand to levitate their trunks to the racks.

A heavy tension descended in the compartment as only two spots remained to sit. One of them was near the windows while the other was in the middle — the former was away from Harry, while the latter was right in front of him. The question was, where would Draco sit?

Draco walked to the spot in the middle of the room, sat down, and stared at Potter with a smirk on his face. As one would expect, Harry didn’t appreciate that look and a snarl appeared on his face.

“Is there something funny, Malfoy?” asked Harry heatedly.

Everyone in the compartment became silent, all listening to what was about to happen between the two. Even Quinn stayed quiet to see what was going to happen.

Malfoy scoffed derisively, “I just wonder how long you’re going to live, Potter. Now that the Dark Lord is back. . . I don’t think you’re going to make it to the next year,” he leaned forward and whispered with a nasty grin on his face, “he’s coming for you, Potter.”

Harry laughed once before launching himself at Draco, grabbing his collar and slamming him into the wall behind. Draco replied with a kick to the stomach. Harry stumbled back, but it wasn’t enough to stop him as he launched at Draco again and, this time, landed a punch squarely on Draco’s face.

It was at this moment that the compartment full of Prefects sprung into action and pulled the two enemies apart while both tried to reach each other.

“He’s going to come after everyone you love, Pottah!”

“Fuck you, Malfoy!”

“Enough!” said Quinn; he had seen enough to see where the situation stood, and with a wave of his fake wand, steel chains appeared out of the walls behind Harry and Draco and wrapped around them like vices of hell and pulled the two boys back, slamming into the wall.

The rest of the people backed away when Quinn stood up and walked to the two bound ones. “Listen, I don’t really care what both of you think about each other, and I’m also fine with your regular Gryffindor-Slytherin fights, but if I see this thing come up and be the reason behind why two of your friend groups fight, I’ll personally be responsible for your detentions, and believe me,” he looked at both of them with stale eyes, “you won’t like me after those detentions.

Do you understand?”

The two didn’t reply but did look away and bowed their heads. Quinn stared at them for a moment before the chains disappeared.

He turned to Harry and said, “I don’t want you inciting people against the children of accused Death Eaters. If I see you doing that, I would be very disappointed in you. You’d be turning into the same thing that has been plaguing you for years.” He turned to Draco and said, “If I see provocative comments like the one now, then I will be seeing your actions as they are now, Malfoy. If they create problems in Hogwarts, I’ll bury you and your friends and make your life very difficult in Hogwarts.”

Quinn stared at Draco, who looked up to see a stone look in Quinn’s eyes, and till the moment Quinn removed his eyes, Draco wasn’t able to look away.

Draco watched as Quinn, and maybe it was his imagination, but Draco saw a look of disappointment flashing in Quinn’s eyes. Subconsciously his hands went to his forearm for a brief moment before he realized what he was doing and removed it instantly.

“Now, Ms. Harper, where were we? Ah, yes, the new professor,” said Quinn, facing the new Slytherin professor. “So, the new professor—”

The compartment door once again opened yet another time.

“This is ridiculous!” said Harper, an irritated expression on her face.

A breathless third-year girl stepped inside, and she looked to be shaking in her boots with all Prefects, Headboy, and Headgirl looking at her.

“I’m supposed to deliver these to Quinn West, Harry P-Potter, and Draco Malfoy,” she said, faltering as her eyes met Harry’s, and she turned scarlet. She was holding out three scrolls of parchment tied with violet ribbon. Quinn, Harry, and Draco took the scroll addressed to each of them, and the girl stumbled back out of the compartment.

“What is it?” Hermione asked as Harry unrolled his.

“An invitation,” said Harry.

Quinn read his invitation with indifferent eyes.

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Mr. West,

I would be delighted if you would join me for a bite of lunch in compartment C.

Sincerely,

Professor H.E.F. Slughorn.

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He looked up at Harper and chuckled, “Ms. Harper, it seems you can finally get the answer to your question.”

“What do you mean? Who is it from?” she asked, tilting her head.

Quinn turned the slip and showed it to Harper and everyone.

“Professor Horace Eugene Flaccus Slughorn,” he said, “our new professor.”

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Quinn West – MC – My disappointment is immeasurable, but my day isn’t ruined.

Harry Potter – Boy-Who-Lived – Puncher.

Draco Malfoy – Malfoy Heir – Kicker.

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