HP: A Magical Journey

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[The chapter is edited by my Editor: Alan_Loo/AlanL]

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Quinn sat in the deputy headmistress’ office, waiting for McGonagall to return. The transfiguration professor had told him to stay inside her office while she was out.

He took out his pocket watch, watched the time, and grumbled, “One more minute and I’m leaving.” Quinn snapped shut his pocket watch and got up from his chair.

The office hadn’t changed since the last time he had been here. It was still the same small study with a big fireplace and a window that overlooked the quidditch field.

Walking up to McGonagall’s desk, Quinn raised his head to look at what was above her desk. This was the same place where McGonagall had conjured the giant chunk of ice and showed him sublimation, which had been a paradigm-shifting moment for his exploration of the Icy vault.

Quinn blinked at the place above McGonagall’s desk, and a knob of ice manifested. The tiny ice knob started to rotate as more and more ice appeared around the initial knob, increasing the size of the ice above the desk.

Within seconds, Quinn had created a hunk of ice comparable to the one McGonagall did two years ago.

‘She was definitely showing off at that time,’ thought Quinn as he swept his eyes over the ice.

The sound of the door opening alerted Quinn as he brought his hands in front of him, and his fake wand was shot out of the holster into his right hand. His robes hid his wand coming out of its holster, and the ice was eye-catching enough that no one noticed Quinn moving his hand to his front.

“Mr. West, what are you doing?” McGonagall announced herself in her office. She eyed the ice floating above her desk.

Quinn turned towards McGonagall, “I was remembering the good old days, professor.” He smiled and waved his wand at the ice. Instantly, the ice poofed into vapor. He also contained it so it wouldn’t leak around the room.

Recognition flashed in McGonagall’s eyes, “Oh, the self-recovering ice that we discussed in your second year. Yes, I remember that.” A ghost of a smile appeared on her face as she noted the ice. “You have grasped the concept quite well, Mr. West.”

Harry Potter and Hermione Granger, who stood behind McGonagall, stared at the contained mist of vapor hanging in the air. Their head of the house had pulled them away from the crowd, and now they were standing in her office watching Quinn West and McGonagall talking about something.

“Why did you call me, professor?” asked Quinn as he dispelled the vapor and returned to his chair. He glanced at Harry and Granger and guessed, “This is about what happened on the train, isn’t it?”

Professor McGonagall motioned Harry and Hermione to sit down. She settled herself behind her desk and abruptly said, “The train driver sent an owl ahead to say that you were feeling a bit under the weather on the train, Mr. Potter.”

Before Harry could reply, there was a soft knock on the door and Madam Pomfrey, the nurse, bustled in.

Harry felt a blush coming to his face. It was bad enough that he had passed out, or whatever he had done, without everyone making all this fuss.

“I’m fine,” he said, “I don’t need anything -“

“Oh, it’s you, isn’t it?” scoffed Madam Pomfrey, ignoring this and bending down to stare closely at him. “I suppose you’ve been doing something dangerous again?”

“It was a dementor, Poppy,” said Professor McGonagall.

They exchanged a dark look, and Madam Pomfrey clucked disapprovingly.

“Setting dementors around a school,” she muttered, pushing back Harry’s hair to touch his forehead. “He won’t be the last one who collapses. Yes, he is all clammy. Terrible things, dementors, and the effect they have on people who are already delicate -“

“I’m not delicate!” sputtered Harry crossly.

“Of course, of course,” said Madam Pomfrey absentmindedly, now taking his pulse.

“What does he need?” asked Professor McGonagall crisply. “Bedrest? Should he perhaps spend tonight in the hospital wing?”

“I’m fine!” ranted Harry, jumping up. The thought of what Draco Malfoy would say if he had to go to the hospital wing was torture.

“Well, he should have some chocolate, at the very least,” said Madam Pomfrey, who was now examining Harry’s eyes.

“I’ve already had some,” said Harry. He pointed at Quinn and said. “He- I mean, West, gave me some. He gave chocolate to everyone on the train.”

Pomfrey turned her head towards Quinn, who waved at her with a beaming smile. “Hello, Madam Pomfrey. May I say you look absolutely glowing today?”

“Good work, West,” praised Madam Pomfrey approvingly. “Excellent response by distributing chocolate.”

Quinn smiled before looking at McGonagall and notified, “I’ll be sending you a bill for reimbursement, as I went through a couple of months’ worth of chocolate.”

McGonagall sighed and nodded before looking at Harry and asked, “Are you sure you feel all right, Mr. Potter?”

“Yes,” Harry insisted, stubbornly.

“Very well,” she accepted and turned to Quinn. “Now, Mr. West, was the Patronus in the train your doing? The driver said that he saw some kind of bird-shaped Patronus.”

“Yes, professor,” Quinn raised his wand and whispered for show. “Expecto Patronum.” Intense waves of silver energy filled with positivity escaped his wand tip and hovered like mist before him.

Harry, Hermione, and Pomfrey stared at the silver waves coming out of Quinn’s wand with wide eyes.

Quinn didn’t expel a corporeal Patronus because he wasn’t feeling like showing his Patronus form. Anyone who could properly witness his Patronus knew it was some kind of bird, and he decided to keep it like that.

“I see,” McGonagall nodded and smiled in gratitude. “Between the Patronus and the chocolate, you did a great service to our school, Mr. West. I sincerely thank you on behalf of Hogwarts.”

“It was the least I could do, professor,” said Quinn humbly before campaigning. “That’s part of the full service commitment you can expect if you do business with me, so if you want a problem solved, A.I.D will-“

“Thank you, Mr. West,” McGonagall cut off Quinn’s attempt at self-advertisement and said, “Please wait outside while I have a quick word with Ms. Granger about her course schedule, we shall go down to the feast together then.”

Quinn raised a finger before veering it down and nodding.

Harry and Quinn went back to the corridor with Madam Pomfrey, who left for the hospital wing, muttering some indecipherable words to herself.

Just as Quinn and Harry came out of McGonagall’s office they saw Lily Potter running towards them and the second she reached Harry, the worried mother hugged her son.

“Oh, Harry! Are you alright?! Oh, my dear boy.”

She had come running to see if her son making sure that her daughter was not injured by the vile Dementors. And while Ivy had assured that Harry was fine, she needed to see it on her own. Only after seeing that both her children were okay would a mother’s heart would calm down.

Quinn, on the other hand, stepped away from the mother-son pair and stood as still as possible to reduce his physical presence to the point he was invisible. He didn’t want to disturb them and give them some space.

‘Let’s just hope that I can leave here as soon as possible,’ he thought eyeing McGonagall’s office door, hoping the transfiguration professor would come out with Hermione Granger and he could goto the feast.

He had to wait only a few minutes, and it seemed like Lily didn’t notice him and Harry had seemingly forgotten that he was here. Then, followed by Professor McGonagall, Hermione emerged looking thrilled about something and the three of them made their way back down the marble staircase to the Great Hall.

There was a sea of pointy black hats; each of the long House tables was lined with students, their faces glimmering by the light of thousands of candles which hovered above the tables in the air. Professor Flitwick was carrying an ancient-looking hat and a four-legged stool out of the hall.

“Oh,” said Hermione softly, “We’ve missed the Sorting!”

“That we did,” remarked Quinn, looking at the Slytherin table. There he saw Astoria sitting in her new green trims with Daphne and Tracy. “The hat sorted her in Slytherin, huh.”

Professor McGonagall and Lily Potter strode off towards her empty seat at the staff table, and Harry and Hermione set off in the other direction, as quietly as possible, toward the Gryffindor table.

Quinn cast a surveying glance to Hermione and thought, ‘She got the permission to use the Time-Turner, didn’t she? Hmm…’

He walked to the empty spot between Marcus and Luna, and took his place between his two friends.

“So where were you?” asked Marcus, who was sitting across from them.

Quinn started to explain what happened in a whisper. But at that moment, the Headmaster stood up to speak, so he was cut off.

Dumbledore, despite being well over a century old, always gave an impression of great energy. He had long white hair and a beard that was at least two feet long; he wore half-moon glasses and had a slightly crooked nose.

Quinn looked around and saw the eyes of all the students focused on the headmaster. He had to admit that Dumbledore had cemented his position in the hearts of the general student populace. The kind of reputation that was on the verge of being unshakable.

“Welcome!” said Dumbledore, the candlelight shimmering on his beard. “Welcome to another year at Hogwarts! I have a few things to say. And as one of them is quite serious, I think it best to get it out of the way before we become befuddled by our excellent feast…”

Dumbledore cleared his throat and continued, “As you may be aware, our school is presently hosting some of the Dementors of Azkaban, who are here under the order of the Ministry of Magic.”

Quinn noticed a barely visible look of displeasure passing in Dumbledore’s eyes. Hogwarts was Dumbledore’s territory; he didn’t like the Ministry intruding on it, much less with Dementors.

“They are stationed at every entrance to the grounds,” Dumbledore continued, “and while they are with us, I must make it plain that nobody is to leave the school without permission. Dementors are not to be fooled by tricks or disguises — or even Invisibility Cloaks,” he added blandly. “It is not in the nature of a Dementor to understand pleading or excuses. I, therefore, warn each and every one of you to give them no reason to harm you. I look to the prefects, and our new Head Boy and Girl, to make sure that no student runs afoul of the Dementors,” he said.

“On a happier note,” he continued, “I am pleased to welcome two new teachers to our ranks this year.”

“First, Professor Lupin, who has kindly consented to fill the vacancy there was in Defense Against the Dark Arts.” There was some scattered, rather unenthusiastic applause. No one was expecting this fellow to last more than a year, and the recent record of the teachers didn’t inspire confidence that he would be any better than the previous two professors.

Quinn observed Remus John Lupin, the new Defense Against the Dark Arts, the Marauder afflicted with Lycanthropy and cursed to turn into a werewolf at every full moon. He noticed that this version of Lupin was dressed appropriately and not shabby at all. In the books, Lupin was always in financial trouble. The werewolf wasn’t able to get a stable job because of his condition.

‘Must be because of his friends,’ hypothesized Quinn. ‘This Lupin didn’t lose all of his friends in a single night. They must have helped him get a stable job or something.’

Quinn caught another thing at the staff table that made him chuckle.

Severus Snape, the Potions master, was staring along the staff table at Lupin. It was common knowledge that Snape wanted the Defense Against the Dark Arts post. It didn’t help his mood that the job he coveted went to a ‘Marauder,’ one of his school bullies. The expression on Snape’s face was beyond anger; there was pure and unfiltered loathing.

“As to our second new appointment,” Dumbledore continued as the lukewarm applause for Professor Lupin died away. “I am sorry to tell you that Professor Kettleburn, our Care of Magical Creatures teacher, retired at the end of last year in order to enjoy more time with his remaining limbs -.”

Quinn made an ‘ooh~!’ expression and vocalized, “Burn~!”

“- However, I am delighted to say that his place will be filled by none other than Rubeus Hagrid, who has agreed to take on this teaching post in addition to his gamekeeping duties.”

The student body clapped for the promoted gamekeeper. The Gryffindor table’s applause was tumultuous in particular.

“Well, I think that’s everything of importance,” said Dumbledore. “Let the feast begin!”

The golden plates and goblets before them were filled suddenly with food and drink. Quinn, who was already ravenous, helped himself to some food and began eating. It was a delicious feast, and the hall echoed with talk, laughter, and the clatter of knives and forks.

“I didn’t see you on the train,” said Quinn, taking a bite from his bowl of Cranachan. “And I traveled through the train distributing chocolate. Where the hell were you two?”

“You did pass by our compartment,” answered Eddie from Quinn’s side. “Our compartment door snapped open, and chocolate flew in as you walked away while shouting at everybody to eat chocolate.”

“… Damn it,” cursed Quinn. Once again, he wasn’t able to find his two roommates on the Hogwarts Express. “This makes it four years in a row. Next year, we will board the train together.”

“What do you think about the new professor?” asked Marcus, turning his head to look at Lupin. “Do you think he will be any good?”

“I don’t think so. I think this one will also be a bust,” guessed Eddie, showing little confidence in Remus Lupin.

Quinn put his chin on his palm and hummed, “I don’t know. He might be bad or unexpectedly good. Let’s hope for something more reasonable and say that he will be decent. How about that?”

Luna decided to chime in, “Daddy says the middle is boring. I say that he will be good.”

“I see. That makes it three people and three different opinions,” Marcus compiled the results and chuckled, “It seems professor Lupin is already doing fairly well on the opinion poll.”

“Meh, we will know when he actually teaches,” Quinn said and continued with an example. “Lockhart had an overwhelmingly positive reception. Look how he turned out.”

‘He ended up in the hospital without memories,’ he added in his head as some things were better unspoken.

Quinn looked around the Great Hall and noticed Friar floating above the Hufflepuff table, chatting with the new Hufflepuff inductees.

‘Yeah,’ thought Quinn.

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It was the night after Quinn had come back to Hogwarts, and now he was making his way to the Astronomy tower. As he climbed the stairs to the tower, Quinn thought about the upcoming conversation with the ghost he had most contact with.

He didn’t blame Friar for the things that had happened to him in the last few months. Oh, no, the Hufflepuff ghost couldn’t be blamed at all. Friar had warned him about the vaults and the danger that was within them.

Sure, Quinn had cursed Friar a lot while he was suffering from his ailment, but after thinking about it a lot and accepting the situation, he realized that Friar had given him plenty of warnings.

Quinn sighed as he finally reached the top of the Astronomy Tower, and there stood the ghost of the religious monk, looking at the stars like he did every so often.

After taking a deep breath, Quinn alerted the ghost of his presence.

“Friar.”

The translucent ghost turned around mid-hover and greeted Quinn on seeing his favorite Ravenclaw.

“Quinn, it’s nice to you after this time.” Friar hovered near Quinn and smiled. “How have you been?”

“I’m fine. Thank you for asking, Friar,” Quinn walked towards the edge of the tower and looked at the waning moon shining in the sky. “I’m better now than I was a few months ago.”

“A few months ago?” Friar asked as he floated close to Quinn. “Did something happen?”

“Yes. Something happened, Friar,” Quinn clenched his fists behind his back. “I underestimated the second vault and lost my magic.”

“Y-You lost your magic?!” Friar wasn’t expecting to hear this piece of information.

“I’m fine, Friar.” Deep patterns suddenly etched on the floor of the tower, glowing with a fiery light. Showing Friar that his magic was fine, Quinn calmed the ghost down. “My magic is fine now. I have it under control.”

“What did the vault do to you? What was in there?” Friar asked with curiosity.

“I can’t be sure, Friar,” replied Quinn truthfully.

He turned to face the ghost and continued, “I asked someone who knows about all this better than me.” Quinn was talking about Alan. The two had discussed the true nature of the vault. The conclusion that we came up with was that the vault was an experiment to see if it was possible to artificially increase the magic of a human by tapping into the emotional connection and strengthening it to gain more magic.”

“B-But, why would something like that be Hogwarts?” asked Friar, confused in disbelief.

“That is the thing, Friar,” Quinn looked at the ghost and spread his hand to point at Hogwarts. “What better place to set up an experiment like this than a school full of adolescent children.”

“Do you know why Hogwarts has become such a mystical place?” Quinn asked Friar a question about the nature of Hogwarts.

The ghost shook his head. He always assumed that Hogwarts was great because the founders built it, but he felt that wasn’t the answer Quinn was looking for.

“The magic grows at an accelerated rate between the ages eleven to eighteen; the seven years of magical development that comes once in a lifetime. Children go through this change and development of magic, and it might not be the correct way to explain it, but the magic during this age is unstable.”

Quinn held his chin and thought for a second.

“If I were to give a better word, then it would be in flux. And that state of flux is in children who experience extreme emotions, both positive and negative. Magic behaves abnormally when mixed with extreme emotion.”

He looked at the Hogwarts castle and continued.

“The magic influx combined with extreme emotions is the reason Hogwarts is so mystical and magical. A millennium of hundreds of adolescent children staying in the castle for most of the year would change even the most normal places into a magical place. Hogwarts, even when it was newly built, was anything but normal.”

Friar listened to Quinn, who continued to speak.

“Children with ‘unstable’ magic were the best test subjects for an experiment that targeted emotion. Maybe it was one of the Headmasters that dabbled in the art of emotions and didn’t mind using the children as test subjects.”

Quinn pointed at Friar and revealed.

“The reason that ghost disappeared was maybe that the magic inside the vault has a soul aspect. The magic in the vault wasn’t meant for ghosts, and it caused the ghost to cease to exist. Ghosts have strong emotional ties to the place they haunt. So when you go near the vault, your emotions are affected. Your ghostly instincts tell you that if you go near the vault, you will cease to exist.”

A twisted smile of self-derision appeared on Friars as he completed what Quinn was speaking. “… And ghosts don’t want to pass on. Even though we know it is wrong to remain in the mortal world, we continue to exist. The vault is a threat to our existence, and thus we feel dread and fear from it.”

“Yes, that is the conclusion I have come up with. It is up to you if you want to accept it,” Quinn told his understanding of the second vault.

There were a few minutes of silence in the Astronomy Tower before Friar spoke up, “Will you go inside the second vault?”

“No,” came Quinn’s response. It was so quick and firm that Friar was taken aback. “I’m not going back there. The only way I go in there is if my life depends on it.”

It was unusual to see such a serious expression in Quinn’s eyes and voice. Even though Quinn had regained his magic and had a better understanding of what emotions were, this didn’t mean he wasn’t afraid of the second vault. The second vault exploration had become a frightful experience for him, and nothing about it would change that opinion. One visit and he was under the influence of magic for months.

There was once again a period of silence before Friar broke it, “Do you want to continue exploring the third vault?” Friar wasn’t sure if Quinn would want to continue after what had happened to him.

Quinn focused on the ghost, “I had a lot of time to think in the absence of magic, Friar. At that time, I thought about the possibility of what would happen if I didn’t get my magic. I thought of what would I do if I didn’t regain the control of my magic and somehow could lock it away to live a magic-less life. What would be my future? What route would my life go?”

Friar stared Quinn with slightly wide eyes as a twisted and contorted smile marred Quinn’s face.

“Do you know what I found? I realized I didn’t want a life without magic. I had devoted years of this life and being to this one thing, and if you took it away, I would be left with nothing, nothing at all… Quinn West is nothing without magic.”

Quinn broke into laughter for a stretch before proclaiming.

“Oh, Friar. I don’t love magic. Oh, no, love isn’t the correct emotion that I feel for magic. No, the correct emotion would be…”

The twisted smile split Quinn’s face as he revealed,

“… Obsession.”

Quinn’s glimmered at the stars as he went on.

“The cursed vaults are a way for me to learn about magic. I only have a few more years in this castle, and after that, I will be gone. Before that happens, I want to go into all the vaults and find the secrets. So my answer is yes, Friar, I want to continue.”

Quinn turned his eyes back to Friar and said,

“There is just one teeny-tiny problem that I need to take care of before I continue on the quest of the cursed vaults and my life in general.”

Quinn slowly walked backward while facing Friar.

“The thing is, I have this small irrational fear that has taken root inside of me. I lost control of my magic, and I fear that it would happen again.” Quinn no longer had that contorted smile on his face, but instead, a sad smile took its place. “Gosh, it is an irrational fear. I can feel my magic under my firm control, but you see, I can’t just get rid of the thought that one day it will once again rampage.”

Friar frowned when he saw that Quinn was inching towards the edge of the tower roof. “Quinn, what are you doing?”

“I thought about it, and the only way for me to get rid of this fear is if I can completely trust my magic once more.”

Quinn finally reached the edge of the Astronomy Tower and held onto the railing with his back to the tower’s railings.

“My magic must not betray me at the one moment I need it,” Quinn smiled and stated. “And that moment is when my life is in danger. I need to confirm the bottom line. I need to make sure my magic won’t leave me when I am about to die.”

He turned his head to see the distance between him and the ground below before turning back to Friar, who was staring at Quinn with a worried gaze.

“My meeting with you here at the Astronomy Tower started all this, and if things are going to end, then I want it to end here and with you present.” Quinn chuckled and added, “It is fitting in a way.”

“Q-Quinn, what are you doing,” Friar hovered closer and quavered. “Please step away from the railing and walk my way.”

“Your words won’t have the effect you are hoping, Friar,” Quinn sighed as he looked at the ghost. “And you, a ghost, can’t interact with material things, so you can’t stop me.”

He looked at the bright half-moon and smiled, “It is a clear night today. Suitable if I am to die.”

He turned to face Friar and spoke, “See you in a bit, Friar.”

Friar’s ghostly eyes widened in horror as he saw Quinn shifting his weight over the railings and falling off Hogwarts’ tallest tower.

Quinn, who was off the roof’s floor and in this air, shifted himself while falling to face the ground below.

There were no unnecessary thoughts in Quinn’s mind as he fell. No revolving lantern, showing him his life flashing by. No thoughts about his family or friends.

Quinn’s mind was focusing on his magic. Every fiber of his being was calling on his magic as he rushed closer to the ground.

In this life-threatening moment, Quinn felt the wind flapping against his face and body, his beating heart, the pulsating magic inside his body, and the Friar’s faint shouts from above him.

He locked his eyes on the approaching ground, and even though he never did it, Quinn felt that the moment was appropriate, and so he closed his eyes and whispered.

“Arresto Momentum.”

A bright blue flashed just moments before Quinn was about to hit the ground and turned into a bloody mess.

There was no collision with the ground, no breaking of bones, no splatter of blood, no exploding skulls, or gore of any kind.

Quinn opened his and saw that he was floating above the ground.

He grinned and released the magic and fell to the ground with his elbows and knees supporting his body on the ground.

The boy pushed himself off the ground so that he was on his knees. He looked up at the sky and roared in laughter.

“Hahahahahaha!”

His magic hadn’t betrayed him. It was there with him at the moment he was about to die.

The irrational fear in Quinn’s heart vanished as magic amplified his laughter, carrying it all over the castle.

Every single resident of Hogwarts heard a roaring, joyful laughter that night.

No one ever found where the laughter came from or who was laughing, but in the years to come, it would be talked about it.

Only one person knew the meaning of the laughter.

And it was…

Quinn West was finally and truly back.

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Quinn West – MC – Reboot Complete

Friar – Hufflepuff Ghost – Scared out of his ghostly existence.

FictionOnlyReader – No Author’s note – I will answer comments.

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