Chapter 232: Date Time, Surprise Visit (1/2)
If you want to read ahead, you can check out my Patreón @
[ ]
The link is also in the synopsis.
.
-*-*-*-*-*-
.
The Architect's vault second room, Cuboidal Creation, had exceeded Quinn's expectations of the amount he thought it would take to go through all the material cubes. Before he knew it was already, February had walked to the end of its second week, bringing with it wetter and warmer weather. Quinn's gut told him that he was already behind schedule despite not knowing the vault's contents.
Quinn gazed at his Friday pocket watch; it was already half past six in the evening. He had just completed all his work and delivered on his scheduled commitments so that he could free up the weekend and spend time in the Arhictect's vault for two days and grind the last leg of the second room and proceed to the next stage of the vault.
He snapped the cover close on the watch. ”Another half-hour, then I close up.”
With nothing to do, Quinn decided to do some work on AID's accounting. Making a profit was never Quinn's motive when he had set up, but in the few years of operations, AID had been able to very narrow margin (almost negligible) of profit from serving the needful students of Hogwarts with their problems. Quinn would've seen more gains if not for his 'favor exchange policy, but that policy had given returns other than monetary ones. The other reason behind AID just only breakeven most months was the operating expenses required to run AID. In particular, the coin that was needed to keep the AID workshop fully equipped with herbs, other potion ingredients, rune supplies, among the various other things that Quinn and Luna (mostly the former) went through regularly.
It was because of Quinn's meticulous accounting skills and financial sense that he hadn't needed to borrow from his personal funds. Occasions such as paying Ludo Bagman's debt to goblins were a few exceptions when Quinn had used his own funds.
'At this rate, February's going to end up in red,' noted Quinn. But he wasn't worried; AID would make for all its losses from March onwards with the AID-notes series — they were bestsellers since the first release years.
Time ticked away, and after another time check, only ten minutes remained to seven, so Quinn got up to pack things up for the day, but just as he was about to enter the workshop to do the end of the day Scouring spell, the detection ward outside his door triggered a bell in his mind.
Three people. Quinn stared at the front door with his hand at the handle of the red workshop door. He waited, waited, and waited — for two minutes, the people outside didn't enter the office.
Quinn shrugged. If they didn't want to come in, then he wasn't going to wait. However, the second he pushed the workshop door open, the door chime rang like a mosquito buzzing near the ear. Quinn heaved a sigh and turned to be surprised by the sight of Daphne standing at the threshold; behind her, Tracey pumped her brows with a grin in greeting when their eyes met, with Astoria standing on her tip-toes, trying to peek over Daphne's shoulder.
”Hey, you three—”
Daphne closed the door leaving Tracey and Astoria outside. The brief gaze Daphne shared with them before closing the door told that the other two had no intention to accompany Daphne inside.
”Why did they stay outside? Aren't they coming in?”
Daphne took a deep breath, then turned away from the towards Quinn. ”I've something talk about.. . alone.”
”What is it?” said Quinn, swiftly moving back to his barstool. It must be something serious, he thought.
Daphne gracefully sat herself down on the chair opposite Quinn. She straightened the pleats on her skirt. The Slytherin hadn't matched eyes with Quinn once since entering the room.
She mustered the courage and spoke up. ”The outing to Hogsmeade is on Sunday.”
Quinn nodded. The second Hogsmeade weekend was scheduled to fall on this Sunday. He wasn't going this time — this weekend, he was to spend his time alone with a room full of burdensome stones.
”I was wondering if you would visit the village with me.”
”Is there something wrong, Daphne?” said Quinn; it was so unlike her to be fidgeting with her hands while speaking. ”Is there something bothering you? Please don't be hesitant and share what seems to be the trouble. Is there a problem? Is that why you're asking me to accompany you to the village?”
Daphne finally looked up towards Quinn. He was usually sharp as a tack, so why couldn't he understand something so simple. Would she need to be blunt as Tracey had asked her to be?
”Daphne?”
”I am asking if you would go on a date with me this Sunday on Fourteenth of February,” she said as direct as her heart would allow — mother magic, she did it!
Quinn froze up in his chair. His mind seemed to kick up like a sputtering motor. Hogsmeade weekend. Outing. Fourteenth of February.. . a date on Valentine's Day.
”O-Oh.” The moment that slipped out of his mouth, Quinn's mental status took a tight mental slap from itself.
Daphne didn't take that surprised slip as discouragement and recognized for it was. She decided to push forward. ”Would you?” she asked.
But Quinn wasn't one to be pushed into an answer. He relaxed his tensed hands on the table and joined his hands, intercrossing his fingers. Daphne also seemed to be riding the wave of her mustered courage and hadn't removed her eye from Quinn.
Both stared at each other for a few seconds to realize that it was a bit bashful to stare into each other's eyes after the exchange they just had and turned away from the other's gaze at the same time.
The ticking of the wall clock behind Quinn filled the room, stewing in a spell of awkward silence. Daphne's question had pushed the ball was in Quinn's hand; he was to break this silence.
He looked at her, and a flurry of thoughts flashed through his head. It was as if someone had opened every memory book in his mind with even the slightest mention of the girl sitting opposite him.
He had known her for several years. From the very first day on the Hogwarts Express, she had been so quiet and cold that day. He recalled the day he had seen her smile for the first time, recalled the occasional giggle he had stolen from her. Her worried expression shining in the moonlight when she grilled him about Astoria's cure. The many conversations he had with her. The times he had danced with her. The many hours he had spent with her discussing and teaching her magic. His thoughts went back to the last year and how she had looked in the black dressing-gown on the Yuletide ball; she catching his eye as she danced with the Bulgarian meathead, and one different decision would have him escorting her.
It seemed that his weekend plans needed to be changed.
”I'll be delighted,” his soft voice made her blue eyes look at him, ”to visit the village with you this Sunday,” he smiled softly, ”it's a date.”
Daphne stared with wide eyes and raised eyebrows. She had come here hoping the worst — that Quinn would reject her and maybe ruin her friendship with him, but after last year, Daphne had to try — she couldn't give up because of her fear without giving it a chance.
Now Daphne was glad that she asked. She had wanted something, and she got it.
She nodded as if Quinn's answer was expected. ”I'll meet you in the Entrance hall on Sunday.”
”I'll be waiting for it patiently,” Quinn smiled.
.. .
Outside, Tracey and Astoria waited for Daphne to come out, hopefully with good news. Both were feeling a worry for Daphne — Tracey tapped her foot against the floor as she kept her eye trained on the office door, while Astoria couldn't stay still and was pacing the corridor.
”What if he refuses?” said Astoria, coming to a screeching halt in front of Tracey. ”What if he already has a date? We didn't know until very late that he was going with Delacour last year. What if he's going with someone else, and we don't know about it; what would happen then?”
”I asked Eddie,” said Tracey, ”he said that Quinn hadn't said anything.”
”Didn't he also not know last year? It could be the same this year.”
Tracey had no answers to that. Even though she had asked Eddie if Quinn had plans, she had stressed that he was not to poke or chance an answer out of Quinn — Eddie Carmichael wasn't the subtlest of people.
”Let's just trust Daphne. She'll come out with good news, I know it.”
Astoria bit her thumbnail and resumed her nervous pacing. All this talking had just amped her worries more — she didn't want her sister to be heartbroken — neither did she want to pin the blame on Quinn if it did happen.
The door jingled open, and out came Daphne, looking the same she did every day. Tracey and Astoria all but rushed towards her but pressed the breaks when they saw Quinn step out as well.
”Right, well, that's settled then,” Quinn said, and Daphne nodded. He turned to Tracey and Astoria and waved once before gently closing the door, leaving the three girls behind.
Tracey and Astoria stared at Daphne, who began walking wordlessly, not giving them an answer.
”Dear sister, why are you just walking away? Please use that mouth of yours to speak something; it's not for decoration!”
”Daph? Daphne? Greengrass! You answer me, what happened in there? Did you chicken and not tell him; don't you dare tell me that is what happened.”
Daphne stopped and twirled on the balls of her feet, her hair, robes, and skirt lifting just a bit. Tracey and Astoria halted — Daphne Greengrass never twirled.
The two girls got their answer in the form of the brightest smile capable of melting from the Ice Queen.
.. .
Eddie was gazing at his bed with furrowed brows when he heard climbing steps. He could tell from the sound that it was Quinn.
”Quinn, help your mate out, will ya?” he said without looking back.
As he expected, it was indeed Quinn: ”With what?'
Eddie lifted the two jumpers from his bed and turned towards Quinn, who was placing his book bag at his study table. ”Which one should I wear on Sunday? I have a Valentine's day date with Tracey, we are going to the village. This one, on the right, or the one on the left. I like them both, they are my favorites, but I can't seem to decide between one — what do you think?”
Quinn looked at the two options: The one on the right was black with a white-collar. The left one was also black — instead of a white collar, it had a white stripe on the side pockets. He looked at Eddie; he had changed into his casuals after Quidditch practice; lo and behold, he was covered in all black from head to toe.
”The white and yellow one you got on your birthday, the one that your mum sent.”
Eddie's shoulders slumped. He looked at the jumpers in his hands — what was wrong with them? He looked excellent in both of them.
”What are you and Marcus going to do on Sunday?” said Eddie as he stuffed the jumpers into his cupboard. ”I won't be with you guys,” he added smugly.
”I have a date. I don't know what Marcus will be doing.”
”Is that so—”
The white-and-yellow jumper slipped out of Eddie's hands. He turned towards Quinn — 'No fucking way,' he muttered his breath.
”Say that again,” said Eddie, ”what do you have on Sunday?”
”I have a date,” Quinn leaned back against the study table. Relaxed. His hands rested on the tabletop at his sides.
Eddie closed the distance between them briskly and gripped Quinn's arm. ”With who?” his gaze incredulous.
”Daphne”
”Greengrass?”
”I don't think there's another one.”
”You asked?”