Chapter 76: Quinns Trust In Magic (1/2)

If you want to read ahead, you can check out my Patreón @

[ ]

The link is also in the synopsis.

.

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

.

-*-*-*-*-*-

.

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.

.

- (Scene Break) -