Chapter 139: Imposter, Delegation, Small Talk (1/2)
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The link is also in the synopsis.
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[The chapter is edited by my Editor: Alan_Loo/AlanL]
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Just as Quinn had predicted, Moody had announced that he would be putting the Imperius Curse on each of them in turn to demonstrate its power and to see whether they could resist its effects.
”But... but you said it was illegal, Professor,” said Marcus, uncertain, as Moody cleared away the desks with a sweep of his wand, leaving ample clear space in the middle of the room. ”You said… that to use it against another human was...”
”Dumbledore wants you to know what it feels like,” answered Moody, his magical eye swiveling on Marcus with an unblinking, eerie stare. ”And I've already performed it to West. I should go to Azkaban for all we know. It won't cost me anything to do it again on you.
However, If you'd rather learn the hard way —when someone's attacking you— fine. You're excused. Off you go.”
Marcus hung his head and walked back in defeat. Quinn rested his elbow on his shoulder. ”You're overthinking about it. Relax a little. It will be over before you know it.”
”W-What if he asks me to do something horrible?” asked Marcus, his forehead sweating with anxiety he was feeling.
”You'll be fine,” said Eddie chiming in. Unlike Marcus, he didn't seem worried. ”Whatever he does, it won't be worse than you almost fainting and wetting your pants in front of the Banshee Boggart.”
”L-Like you're any better. Who was the one to clean his bed for a week after seeing a Boggart becoming his mum,” quipped Marcus.
Quinn couldn't help it. A short laugh escaped him despite trying to hold it in. He turned his head away, but Eddie could see Quinn shaking in laughter.
”Oh, shut up!” spat Eddie, his cheeks pink. The Boggart becoming his mum had scared him enough to clean up for an entire week.
The timid and gentle Ravenclaw seemed to have forgotten his anxiety and worries about being subjected to the Imperius Curse. His shoulders were no longer tense and the pallor of his skin was improving.
'I wonder if the Ministry knows about this,' thought Quinn, wondering whether Dumbledore had informed the Ministry about this teaching method or not. 'Well, I hope the Ministry won't interfere. He is a good teacher, I guess.'
Moody began to beckon students forward in turn and put the Imperius Curse upon them. Quinn watched as, one by one, his classmates did the most extraordinary things under its influence. Eddie hopped three times around the room, yelling out the lyrics of his favorite song. Katie Brown imitated a grumpy cat. Marcus performed a series of quite astonishing dance moves he would certainly wouldn't have been capable of in his normal state. Not one of them seemed to be able to fight off the curse, and each of them recovered only when Moody removed it.
”West,” called out Moody as students walked out at the end of the class. ”Stay back. I want to talk to you.”
Quinn gazed at the imposter before gesturing to Eddie and Marcus to go on without him. ”I will catch up to you, guys.”
Eddie and Marcus exchanged looks before nodding and exiting the classroom with the rest of the students, leaving Quinn and Moody alone in the classroom. The desks were pushed to the side and Moody was standing in the middle.
”Yes, Professor. What do you want to talk about?”
”It's your fifth year, lad. Have you thought about what you want to do in the future? After Hogwarts,” asked Moody, his natural eye fixed on Quinn, and surprisingly, the usually restless artificial eye, too.
”... I want to travel the world, Professor. Learn magic and have new experiences,” answered Quinn, his eyes trying to see where this was going.
”Hmm, have you thought about becoming an Auror after Hogwarts?” said Moody, as he took out a silver flask from his waist. He pushed it up against his scarred lips and took a swig.
”Auror, Professor?”
”Yes, Auror. We haven't been doing well on recruitment lately. We need some new good blood within our ranks. You being able to shrug off the Imperious along with your grades would make you a perfect candidate,” spoke Moody, his eyes darting up and down.
'Oh ho, he certainly is playing his role,' thought Quinn. He found it absolutely hilarious that a disguised Death Eater was recruiting him to become an Auror.
”I haven't thought about being an Auror yet, Professor. From what I have heard, it's a rewarding job, but other than that, I haven't given much thought about becoming an Auror or a Hit Wizard.”
”What subjects are you going to take next year?” asked 'Moody'. The man seemed to have gotten used to his new Professor occupation.
”All the subjects that I have now. I'm trying to keep my options open,” replied Quinn. He was sure he wouldn't get something below an Outstanding (O).
”Good, good. Give it a thought. We need wizards like you in the force. You never know when the next Dark Lord will come along,” nodded Moody, putting on a face of vigilance. ”If you ever have any problems, don't hesitate to come to me. I would love to see you grow to your full potential, West. I see a lot of promise in you.”
”Thank you, professor,” nodded Quinn.
Moody nodded and, without a word, briskly exited the classroom with his wooden leg making distinctive clunking footsteps going up the corridor.
”Trying to build connections, eh, Barty,” whispered Quinn, smiling. ”I'm Quinn West, all professors love me. I'll play along with you for now.”
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- (Scene Break) -
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After finishing their classes, twenty-four students gathered inside a classroom in the Transfiguration wing of Hogwarts. They sat in different parts of the room and divided themselves into groups. The door opened, and Minerva McGonagall and two students entered the classroom.
”Good evening, Prefects. I hope everyone is well,” said McGonagall. ”Is everybody here? Let's see, ten... eighteen... twenty-four. Excellent, everyone is present.”
She walked to the Professor's podium and looked over the four groups and the two students that had come with her; the Head boy and Head girl. They were sitting down in the center of the room.
”As you all are aware, the delegations from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang shall be arriving in a week, and we will need to make them feel welcomed,” said McGonagall, pausing for a second. ”As representatives of Hogwarts, you will need, as prefects, to be role models for the entire student body. As such, I expect all of you to be on your best behaviour. Furthermore, make sure that every student follows your lead. It is crucial that we maintain a proper image in the eyes of the delegations. We mustn't show any unsightly behaviour. Especially in front of them.”
She gave the twenty-six students a no-nonsense look.
”Am I understood?”
The student representatives silently nodded. No one was willing to crack a joke in front of McGonagall when she was like this.
”Excellent,” nodded the Deputy Headmistress. ”Moving onto the next topic of this meeting. I need volunteers to help out the foreign students during their stay at Hogwarts. Your responsibility will include: to be an intermediary between them and our students, to answer any questions they have, to guide them through Hogwarts until they are used to the castle, to cater to their needs, and to solve any problems that might arise between them and us.”
McGonagall, who was looking at the parchment on the podium, didn't notice that every prefect was giving a discreet glance to one person in the room.
”Any volunteers?” asked McGonagall, looking up from the podium.
A few hands raised in response. All of them were curious about the foreign students, but only a few were confident enough to deal with the responsibilities.
”Good,” nodded McGonagall, smiling at the number of raised hands. ”Before I assign you into two groups, I want to know if any of you speak either French or Russian or both.”
A seventh-year Slytherin girl Prefect that was sitting with the Slytherin group raised her hand.
”Ms. Parlet, which language do you speak?” asked McGonagall.
”I have a question, Professor,” said Parlet, lowering her hand. ”I understand that Beauxbatons is in France, but Durmstrang's location is unknown. As the students speak Russian, does that mean Durmstrang is in Russia?”
”No, Ms. Parlet. The location of Durmstrang is still unknown. Russian is the language requirement if you want to attend Durmstrang. Students communicate and learn in Russian. It's their lingua franca, so to speak. Whether Durmstrang is in Russia or not? That we don't know.”
”It's in Norway,” came a voice from the Ravenclaw group of Prefects.
Every pair of eyes in the room, without exception, turned to the voice.
”Mr. West… why do you say so.” asked McGonagall, sighing. She knew she wouldn't be able to move on without listening to the answer.
The fifth-year boy Prefect, Quinn West, sitting smack in the middle of the Ravenclaw group, spoke up.