Chapter 135: Arrival, Fake-Eye, Triwizard (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]
.
-*-*-*-*-*-
.
Like a twisted hose spewing out its first spurt of liquid, a multi-colored shapeless mass seemed to appear in the air. The twisted mass divided itself into two parts within a split second, before two figures stood on a tiled floor.
”How was it?” asked the taller of the two. A smile graced the boy's mouth as his eyes flashed, wanting praise.
The shorter yet older of the two first brushed her clothes smooth before replying to his question, ”I have certainly been part of worse side-apparitions.”
The not-so-obvious praise widened the smile on the boy's face. He knew that this was her way of saying he had done well.
”Are you sure this was fine?” asked the strict Ms. Rosey as she looked around the King's Cross Station's apparition point. ”Risking being the one to apparate us here... you aren't supposed to know apparition yet.”
”It's okay. People aren't that attentive. Besides, the delay between the one who apparates and its passenger is almost null. My apparition pop has become quieter and doesn't attract that much attention,” said Quinn, not worried about the situation.
”If you say so.”
The two walked forward towards the platform 9¾. The Hogwarts Express, a gleaming scarlet steam engine, was already there, clouds of steam billowing from it. Many Hogwarts students and parents on the platform appeared as if they were dark ghosts. Quinn moved his eyes through the hustle and bustle, looking at the new and familiar faces, trying to spot a friend. Ms. Rosey, being a poster lady of manners, was properly walking alongside Quinn, but on the inside she was delighted that Quinn had asked her to see him off this year.
”Are you sure you don't want to reserve a compartment?” she asked. ”You can come back out after making sure you have a seat reserved.” Ms. Rosey hadn't seen the Hogwarts Express since her own Hogwarts days, as, after getting her job, she hadn't had the need to accompany someone to the Express (Neither Adam nor Lia had gone to Hogwarts). Her eyes were stuck to the bright red train, remembering her youth.
Quinn shook his head and took out a blue-and-bronze badge. ”I'm a Prefect. There is a compartment reserved for us in the front of the train, so even if I don't find a compartment, I will have a seat for the journey… Of course, you already know that.”
Ms. Rosey nodded with a small smile. During her time, she had been a Prefect for the Hufflepuff house in her fifth and sixth year and Head Girl in her seventh. She knew the privileges that the school provided to Prefects and the Head pair.
”Your grandfather, Elliot, me, and now you. Everyone in the family has been a Prefect now,” spoke Ms. Rosey. ”Even Lia and your father held important positions in Beauxbatons.”
Quinn already knew that because he had seen George, Elliot, and Ms. Rosey's files in the Room of Rewards that held the black binders and the entrance to the Sin vault. While he hadn't been there since his second year, Quinn, while searching for clues, had taken a detour to glance at his family's files and all of them had splendid marks and recommendations.
”Being the owner of the A.I.D. is better than being a Prefect,” said Quinn, turning the shiny badge to the other side so that it could reflect light. ”However, I guess it comes with its own advantages. I don't have curfew restrictions anymore; I can roam around all night if I want.”
While Quinn didn't like the house point system, he appreciated the Prefect and Head Boy/Girl system because it rewarded selected students with power and perks in return for the added responsibility. The students who got the student authority positions were the favorites of teachers, and Quinn was all for it. He liked this system because the student who would get the position would necessarily have a good rapport with the teacher, and that was a valuable skill known as networking. One could be excellent at their craft, but if they didn't have the communication skills, that technical skill would only get them so far.
He didn't think that the Prefect and Head Boy/Girl positions were worthless. Sure, later in their lives, these positions might not matter, but students weren't thinking ten or twenty years in the future. They lived in the present and wanted to be rewarded immediately; authority positions were perfect for that.
”Yes, you can, but please make sure to get enough sleep,” said the ever-worrying Ms. Rosey.
”I love sleeping, Ms. Rosey,” smiled Quinn. ”Except when I'm doing magic, it's the best part of the day.”
Ms. Rosey studied Quinn for a moment before bringing up the main thing George had asked her to say to Quinn. ”Young master... the tournament... Please don't try to compete in it. None of us want you competing in something that was banned for a reason.”
”The tournament is only for those of age, Ms. Rosey. I'm not of age,” said Quinn, although that information had been known in the West manor for a while.
”... We know that, but we also know that nothing is sure with you. Lia was considering not letting you go to school this year because she thought you would figure out a way to bypass whatever measures they put in place.”
”I'm not going to participate in the tournament... Eternal glory and a thousand galleons. That's what the Tri-Wizard tournament promises.” Quinn put a palm on his chest. ”But I'm a West; eternal glory is my birthright. As for the thousand galleons. I earn more than that every day in royalties. There is no need for me to join the tournament… although… fighting a dragon might be fun.”
”-That. That's what we are afraid of,” she sighed. ”We worry that you will try to join the tournament so that you can fight a dragon. Please don't do that.”
Quinn chuckled, and internally he thought, 'Well, I guess I don't have to fight a dragon... I have a Kraken sparring partner if I ever feel the need...'
”I promise, Ms. Rosey... I won't participate in the tournament. It wouldn't be fair for the others otherwise,” smirked Quinn. ”Anyway, as I said, I have no desire to join the tournament as a participant; it's not worth it.”
”Promise me that you won't try to see how the Goblet of Fire works.” The caretaker who had been looking over Quinn for a decade sharply demanded.
”Er... Ahem... I mean, sure, I won't. I won't go anywhere near the chalice.”
”You aren't doing a good job in persuading me, young master.,” sighed Ms. Rosey. She gave the slightly flustered Quinn a pointed look. ”Anyway, I will repeat this for my own sake. Do not go anywhere near the Goblet of Fire. It's a dangerous magical artifact, and we don't want you taking any chances.”
”... I understand,” he nodded.
Ms. Rosey looked around the platform and saw the crowd getting larger. ”It's time. You should board the train.” She placed a hand on Quinn's shoulder and gave him one good final look. ”Remember to take care of yourself, write to us regularly and tell us whenever you have any problems.”
”I will,” he said. Then, he hugged Ms. Rosey and boarded the train with his suitcase.
...
The corridor of the Hogwarts Express was populated with Hogwarts students. Some looked for space to sit while others were catching up with their friends after the long break. Everyone was in haste to get settled before the train took off. In short, there was plenty of activity inside the train; even inside the compartments, as there were students whose parents were still around were saying goodbyes to each other.
Within that liveliness, Quinn was dressed in a black half-sleeved, buttoned-up collared shirt tucked under light-brown trousers. He also wore dark brown derby shoes, which attracted eyes as he shuffled along the corridor. For a moment, everyone would stop what they were doing, and their heads would turn as Quinn passed by.
Quinn arrived at the front and opened the door to a compartment. At first sight, he saw that it was double the size of the standard one. Inside he saw seven people already seated, but they weren't talking to each other.
”Good morning, people,” greeting Quinn his fellow fifth-year Prefects, eyeing the Prefect badges that everybody except him were wearing over their non-uniform clothes. Some girls blushed a little when they saw Quinn smiling, while the boys sat up straight.
He closed the doors behind him and, as the doors closed, Quinn was heard speaking to the other Prefects, ”Before the older Prefects come, let's make some things clear...” What he said would remain a secret between Quinn and the fifth-year Prefects.
.
- (Scene Break) -
.
Quinn smoothed out his Hogwarts uniform with magic and checked the lapel badge over his chest. He watched the Hogwarts Express slow down at last and finally stop in the pitch-darkness of Hogsmeade station.
As the train doors opened, there was a rumble of thunder overhead. The rain was now coming down so thick and fast that it was as though buckets of ice-cold water were being emptied repeatedly over everyone's heads. But Quinn seemed to be impervious to the downpour as raindrops seemed to bend away above Quinn as if avoiding him.
”Yeah... it's good to be back,” grinned Quinn at the weather. Always, without exception, the Hogsmeade station was wet because of the rain.
He looked around calmly, as other students hurried towards the hundred horseless carriages that were standing, waiting for them outside the station. Among the crowd, Quinn noticed a group of three. Of the three, the only girl was waving her hand towards him.
Quinn's happy smile dropped immediately as he all but shouted as the trio came near him. ”Oh, for Merlin's sake! This makes it the fifth year! How in magic do I keep missing you guys?!”
In front of him stood his two best friends: Eddie Carmicheal, Marcus Belby, and his much-loved junior/secretary/friend Luna Lovegood. In all five years of boarding the Hogwarts Express, not even once had Quinn seen Eddie and Marcus on the train.
”Maybe it's the Nargles!” Luna gave her two cents on the matter.
”Couldn't care less,” yawned Eddie. He had just woken up five minutes ago.
”It's good to see you, mate,” smiled Marcus, delighted to see his best friend.
”It could be Luna; the nargles are surely powerful... I love you too, Eddie... Ah, yes, Marcus, I missed you the most,” replied Quinn to his friends.
”Do that to us too,” said Eddie pointing towards the top of Quinn's head at the diverging rain.
Quinn took out his fake wand, and the rain parted above his friend's head. As long as it was water, Quinn could do all kinds of stuff with it.
”As expected, you became the Prefect,” noted Marcus, pointing at the lapel badge. ”Not surprising, to be honest. There's no one better for the role.”
Eddie put his hands on Quinn's robes and fiddled with the blue-and-bronze badge. ”I guess we won't have to worry about detentions.”
”As long as you don't do anything extremely foolish, you will enjoy the privileges of a Prefect pal.”
.
- (Scene Break) -
.
”Oooh, I wouldn't fancy crossing the lake in this weather,” grimaced Marcus, shivering as they inched slowly along the dark platform with the rest of the crowd. A hundred horseless carriages were standing, waiting for them outside the station. Quinn, Luna, Eddie, and Marcus climbed gratefully into one of them, the door shut with a snap, and a few moments later, with a great lurch, the long procession of carriages was rumbling and splashing its way up the track toward Hogwarts Castle.
”Did you read about the World Cup?” asked Marcus in the carriage.
”I was there when those people got there,” joined Eddie. ”My father got us out of there quick.”
Quinn subtly glanced at Eddie. On the fateful day, Quinn had gotten to the campsite before the game started, and while he waited for the Death Eaters, Quinn, while scouting the grounds, had seen the Carmichael tent. It wasn't near where Quinn had dragged the Death Eaters to disable them, but it hadn't been far enough. If perchance a Death Eater tried to go that way, Quinn would be extra brutal; two had tried, and Quinn had sliced both of their legs cleanly.
”It's great that you got out early,” nodded Quinn. The scene he had caused hadn't been pretty. The noise had been enough to make some people's stomachs turn.
The incident had had a lot of media coverage. Afterwards, it had been dubbed as the ”World Cup Carnage” because of the fifteen people taken to St. Mungos. The Medi-healers had been so shocked that, after stabilizing all the patients, the entire staff had had a meeting to figure out how to undo whatever curse was cast on the fifteen. Someone from the hospital staff had ratted on the details of the treatment and conditions.
The details had been on the front page the next day, and all Britain came to know about the events. After that article, from the second day onwards, Rita Skeeter took over and she wrote all the cover stories for the Daily Profit. She picked up on the similarities between the Hogsmeade attack and came up with a trending article that attracted a lot of eyes and ignited a lot of conversations:
「Vigilante or Villain: The True Identity.」
The catchy headline boosted the sales of Daily Profit and every other newspaper and magazine that covered the World Cup carnage. It had been a boon for Quinn because he could keep track of the situation and the fifteen test subjects without moving too much. Rita Skeeter's investigation did all the work for him, and because the story was scoop-worthy, Skeeter for once didn't manipulate the facts, as the facts were juicy enough on their own.
Quinn had been happy to see that all fifteen test subjects showed favorable reactions. The reactions had been adverse to the victims, but they had been the best reactions Quinn could have hoped for. His sole visit to St. Mungos while legilimencing the lead Medi-healer had disclosed that everything from the shoulder below had been paralyzed because of the intense nerve damage. None of the fifteen couldn't so much as twitch their fingers, much less, raise their hands or grip something.
Through the gates, flanked with statues of winged boars, the carriages trundled up the sweeping drive while swaying dangerously in what was fast becoming a gale. Leaning against the window, Quinn could see Hogwarts coming nearer, its many lighted windows blurred and shimmering behind the thick curtain of rain.
Lightning flashed across the sky as their carriage came to a halt before the great oak front doors. People who had occupied the carriages in front were already hurrying up the stone steps into the castle. Quinn, Luna, Eddie, and Marcus jumped down from their carriage and dashed up the steps, too, looking up only when they were safely inside the cavernous, torch-lit entrance hall with its magnificent marble staircase.
”Blimey,” said Marcus, looking at the dripping people, all soaking except them, ”The lake's going to be in need of wat - WOAH!”
A big, blobby, red, water-filled balloon dropped from the ceiling onto Marcus's head and nearly exploded on impact - but it suddenly stopped in the air. Sputtering at almost being hit, Marcus staggered sideways into Eddie, just as a second water bomb dropped— narrowly missing Luna and almost bursting at Quinn's feet, but didn't, as it suddenly flew away and splashed away from the group, sending a wave of cold water over someone other's shoes and into the socks.
People all around shrieked and started pushing others in their efforts to get out of the line of fire. Quinn looked up and saw, floating twenty feet above them, Peeves the Poltergeist, a little man in a bell-covered hat and orange bow tie, his broad, malicious face contorted with concentration as he retook aim.
The first balloon, which had stopped in midair because Quinn was controlling it before it hit Marcus, suddenly turned back and shot towards the Peeves, drowning the Poltergeist in water. The vindictive Poltergeist screamed at being hit from his own water balloon.
”PEEVES!” yelled an angry voice. ”Peeves, come down here at ONCE!” Professor McGonagall, deputy headmistress and Head of Gryffindor House, had come dashing out of the Great Hall but then slid on the wet flood, so she grabbed Quinn around to stop herself from falling. Quinn took the Scottish witch into his arms and effortlessly stabilized her.
”Ouch — Excuse me, Mr. West —”
”That's all right, Professor.” Quinn grinned. She pulled McGonagall up as if she didn't weigh anything.
McGonagall then proceeded to screech hell on Peeves. Quinn gestured to his friends to move along.
”Thank you for stopping the balloon,” said Marcus.
Quinn put his left arm over Marcus's shoulder. ”Don't mention it.” He smirked. He raised his fake wand with his right hand and moved the water on the floor away from their path so that they wouldn't slip and slide.
The Great Hall was splendidly decorated as usual. Golden plates and goblets gleaned by the light of the hundreds and hundreds of candles that hovered over the tables in midair. The four large house tables were packed with chattering students and, at the top of the Hall, the staff sat along, facing their pupils. It was much warmer there.
The group walked past the Slytherins, Gryffindors, and Hufflepuffs and sat down with the rest of the Ravenclaws in the middle of the Hall, next to the Grey Lady, Helena Ravenclaw, the Ravenclaw ghost. Translucent as always, the Grey Lady was dressed tonight in her usual blueish grey dress, which held an aristocratic elegance in it despite being of simple design.
”Good evening,” she said, staring at the current challenger of the vaults.
”Good evening to you too, my lady,” greeted Quinn to the ghost who led Voldemort to Rowena Ravenclaw's Diadem.
The conversation stopped as the Grey Lady went silent and Quinn went back to his friends. One of them didn't want to talk, while the other already knew the secret of the first.