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33.25% HP: A Magical Journey [Complete] / Chapter 146: Body Magic, Lapel Badges

Chapter 146: Body Magic, Lapel Badges

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

[ https://www.patreón.com/fictiononlyreader ]

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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Quinn stood inside the Room of Requirements dressed in shorts and a t-shirt. The room had transformed according to his wishes and was now a simple, spacious room with no furniture. The only thing that was present was a heavy bag that hung from a stand.

He looked down on the floor. He lightly skipped on his feet. The floor had a little spring. He had given it a rubber surface.

"Softening charm- check," said Quinn, continuing to jump on his feet.

"The trifecta," said Quinn to himself. "The mind: the physical entity that deals with thinking, reasoning, our ability to make choices, and partially deals with emotions, beliefs, and attitude."

While continuing to jump, he closed his eyes and dove into his mindscape. He then saw Hogwarts on one side and the West manor on the other side. He looked up in his mental image, at the simulated blue sky, and looked beyond to see a faint hexagonal layer barely visible. Quinn raised his hand and waved it in front of him to feel the invisible radioactive matter omnipresent inside his mindscape.

"Soul: the immaterial part of a being, the part considered to be its essence. Deeply connected to the magical core, along with emotions, self, consciousness, and connectedness."

Quinn placed his hand on his chest. He couldn't feel his soul. It was out of his reach, with no way to gain access to it. His brow twitched when his memories sent him back to his third year. The year in which he had been under the influence of the Sin curse. The curse had affected his soul and then it had gained control over his emotions, affecting his personality and attitude. To this day, Quinn hadn't touched anything related to the soul.

"Body: the physical entity which houses both the mind and the soul. It comprises eleven systems that come together to form one complete system. A complex machine that is designed to support life by aligning the mind and soul to create a balance. It's the most fragile one of the three... one snap and the body can become useless, and lead to its death."

He stopped jumping and took a standard Muay Thai fighting stance. Exhaling a heavy breath, and started shadow boxing: punches, kicks, elbow strikes, knee blows. He went through a continuous series that felt comfortable to him.

A minute, two minutes, five minutes... ten minutes and then some more time passed. The continuous movements had Quinn sweating all over. His breathing was laboured, but Quinn didn't stop; he kept going. When he felt that he couldn't keep up, he would switch to an easier series, but he didn't stop.

"An average person can only access 40-50% of their muscular mass when performing any physical task or exertion," he said. He chuckled. "What terrible efficiency, it makes one wonder about the limitations... But when doing continuous exercise with an increasing load, the body starts to warm up, muscles begin to open up, and a normal person can climb up to access 60% of their physical capabilities."

Quinn took in a deep breath and suddenly stepped forward to get in reach of the brown, heavy bag. He upped his speed and power and started to attack the bag with rigour combined with practiced skill.

"Top p-professional athletes with merciless, relentless, and continuous training can gain access to 80% of their muscular mass. Combining that 80% with the fact that their bodies have transcended the average by several degrees, they reach a level of not being superhuman, but they can definitely be called super humans. But not all professional athletes can reach that level; genetics with excellent physical properties is what allows the select few to reach that level."

Quinn's body began shaking as the continuous exertion was affecting his body, but he continued to push himself despite that.

"The body doesn't allow us to go beyond the limit in the fear that the person would hurt himself... but some conditions allow us to break those limits. Extreme emotions can cause a person to access the ending 20% by pumping excessively, potentially dangerous amounts of adrenaline into their bodies."

He smiled as his elbow smashed into the leather of the bag.

"B-But... that is for normal people. People without access to the supernatural force that reside in rare individuals."

Quinn pulled his fist back and regained the standard stance. With a swift movement, Quinn twisted his body to generate force that would travel from his legs and would be exerted through his fist via punch into the heavy bed.

Once again, Quinn regained a standard stance, but now, he had a grin on his face. His body moved as if to punch just like the last time; but this time, Quinn used his feet to generate force, which added more physical power to his punch. Quinn's grin widened when he felt force travel up his body. He snapped his arm forward to punch the heavy bag.

Fwip!

With the speed of a whip, Quinn's arm punched forward. Quinn watched as his fist got buried into the leather with a force that even surprised him, as the stand holding the bag got knocked over.

With heavy, laboured breathing, a rising and lowering chest, Quinn stared at the fallen bag. Slowly, a smile replaced his surprised face. Quinn raised his hand to look at his fists.

"Magic... physical, body magic," he mutters. Quinn flexed his hands and observed his first use of the new body magic. "I was able to get up to 70% of my best while being dead tired... I guess that is to be expected."

Quinn had always been active since his pre-teen days, but after his third year, Quinn had been working out twice a day. An outdoor workout in the morning and an entire Muay Thai session inside the Room of Requirements in the evening. That had not only made him fit but also had built up some skill when he boxed. Reaching 70% at an activity that he was familiar with was a satisfactory result.

"Next is 80%... the regular limit of the human limit," smiled Quinn, aiming to accomplish something that would take years of constant training within a short time, "After that, I will go beyond."

The magic of the body was just getting started.

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- (Scene Break) -

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Tick, tick, tick. The wall clock in the A.I.D. office ticked away, as Quinn sat at his desk, writing away on a sheet of paper. From the year Quinn had gotten his first set of magic-related books from Lia, he had compiled his own collection of records on every branch and topic of magic he ever learned. Throughout the years, his ever-growing library continued to get more books; in fact, he mainly joined Hogwarts to gain access to the school library along with the collections of books inside Room of Requirements. With those resources at his fingertips, Quinn's magic records grew both in quantity and quality.

Compiling improved potion recipes, examining myriads of materials for transfiguration, researching thousands of herbs for their magical properties, extensively studying the essence and theory behind every spell or charm, observing planets and luminaries movements over the years, and so on... Quinn had tried to study everything in detail and genuinely understand why magic performed as it did.

There was a section filled with Quinn's research material in his personal library, a treasure trove that even the most learned magicals would salivate at because of its cross-cultured nature. No one except Quinn knew the extent of the knowledge he had amassed.

Though not all of it was unknown to the outside world. Over the years, some of it had been released to the outside world. The A.I.D. notes which optimized the Hogwarts material to the limit were available to every student of the magical school. His A.I.D. personal collection, which stood a level above the notes, was primarily used by Luna Lovegood for her guided and accelerated studies.

Quinn West's compendium of herbs and magical creatures in the hands of Elliot was updated every year when he returned home, which allowed the potion enthusiast to continue learning whenever he had the time. His book of charms and spells for daily use had become one of Ms. Rosey's favorite reads because of the sheer brutal practical nature of the included charms. While his personal tips on occlumency were nowhere near Alan D. Baddeley's masterpiece of guides, George still cherished the writings that Quinn sent him from time to time. Lia's little diary, which updated itself with tidbits from various branches of magic, allowed her to hold conversations with people from many walks of magic, earning her the reputation of being a well-versed, knowledgeable person all over the globe.

Currently, he was jotting down one of the many theories of Arithmancy that Quinn had recently researched upon. As he penned the last sentence of the document, Quinn heard a familiar chime. Quinn looked up to see a face that surprised him. The person in front of him wasn't one he expected to visit his office.

"Mr. Malfoy," he said, identifying his guest, "what a surprise for you to visit my office. How may I help you?"

Draco Malfoy was a slender boy with sleek white-blond hair, cold grey eyes, a pale complexion, and rather sharp, pointed, aristocratic features. The fourth-year Slytherin, like many others, gazed at his office in wonderment and curiosity. It was only after the Malfoy heir was satisfied with his observations that he looked at Quinn.

Stone-grey eyes met Cold-grey ones, as Quinn smiled at his junior. "Please, sit, Mr. Malfoy. I must say I wasn't expecting you to visit me anytime soon. Seeing you here makes me as curious, as it makes me happy."

Draco sat down on the chair and stared at Quinn for a while. The Malfoy heir had been educated about the West family. As such, before talking, Draco was cautious about his words.

"I have something I want to commission," started Draco, getting to the point. Draco reckoned that if he got down to brass tacks, the chances of offending Quinn would be the lowest.

"A commission, you say," said Quinn. He set aside his documents as someone like Draco deserved his full attention. "Go ahead. What do you want me to make for you?" From time to time, Quinn would take in some jobs of creating trivial things for students.

Draco took out a parchment from his robes and handed them to Quinn, who opened it to look at neat and blocky handwriting.

'Ah,' sighed Quinn internally as he read the contents.

On the parchment, Draco had written two simple quotes:

The first,

「Support CEDRIC DIGGORY - The REAL Hogwarts Champion 」

The second,

「POTTER STINKS」

Below those quotes was a surprisingly neat drawing of the upper part of a Hogwarts robe, and a badge on the lapel area was a badge that read 'Potter Stinks'.

"A badge that switches between these two quotes, huh," sighed Quinn as he placed the parchment on the desk.

"Er, yeah," replied Draco, surprised that Quinn had understood without the need of an explanation.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Malfoy, but I have to refuse this job."

"Huh, why?!" said Draco exclaiming at the direct refusal. "Is it because of Potter? You don't want to offend the golden boy. Are you afraid of his mudblood mother?" Draco looked at Quinn with a look of disgust.

Quinn stared at his client and didn't take any offense on comment or the derogatory term. Instead, he looked at Draco as if he was a child throwing a tantrum. He waited for a moment before speaking.

"It isn't that I don't want to offend Harry Potter or Professor Potter. Well, I would prefer it if I don't offend anyone, but that's not the reason I'm refusing the job."

"Then why?" asked Draco, feeling suspicious.

"Mr. Malfoy... the aim behind the Triwizard tournament is to promote international relations and unfortunately, Mr. Potter is a Hogwarts champion," he leaned forward, "What do you think would happen when the foreign delegation sees around half of the school sporting these badges... The reputation of our school would be dragged through the mud in front of the outsiders."

Draco wanted to retort with a snippy comment, but Quinn cut him off as he wasn't finished.

"I have a few very good friends in Slytherin, Mr. Malfoy."

The sudden statement made Draco confused as he couldn't see how it was relevant.

"From them, I know how Slytherin operates. No matter what happens between the members of the house, it doesn't get out. Outside of the walls of the house, no matter what the relation, the house remains united. Strength through unity."

Draco blinked in astonishment at Quinn's sudden knowledge of his house. He, of course, knew about the rules inside Slytherin. It didn't matter if two Slytherin students hated each other from the bottom of their hearts; they would have each other's back outside the walls of the common room. The rule was one of the rules that no Slytherin broke, and on some level, it was more prevalent than the pureblood dogma.

"It's because of that practice that the Slytherin house doesn't get overwhelmed by the three other houses, who think you're slimy snakes... Right now, Hogwarts needs that. To Beauxbatons and Durmstrang, we aren't Ravenclaw, Slytherin, Gryffindor, or Hufflepuff; to them, we're just Hogwarts. Any negative action from one house will reflect on all of us. Any positive action from one house will benefit us all. Right now, we need to see ourselves as Hogwarts students, not house students, and that's why I'm not going to accept this request of yours."

Draco, who sat in front of him, stared at the parchment he had brought. He hadn't thought the conversation would go this way; he expected Quinn to either accept his request or outright reject it because of their strained relationship.

He wasn't expecting Quinn to spring out Slytherin house ideology to refuse the request… and even though his request had been denied, Draco felt proud because of how Quinn described Slytherin's house standing against the other three houses.

"I won't stop you from pursuing your plan if you take it to someone else. It's your prerogative to do whatever you want, but I'll not be taking any part in it."

"... So you're saying that I need to be all chummy to Potter," asked Draco, not enthusiastic about it.

"Of course not. Just like in Slytherin, you just need to act like you have no problems with Mr. Potter... Forget that; you two don't run in the same circles, so you simply need to move on with your life."

Since Quinn had ever met Draco, he had never disliked him. Quinn saw him as the child he was, a child raised by parents who looked down on anyone but purebloods, and grew up in a circle that held the same beliefs. Hogwarts should've been where Draco got acquainted with different ideologies, but the system put him into Slytherin, and thus the cycle continued.

'The system that should've promoted growth is now hindering it. A system flawed to its core,' thought Quinn.

"I, I —." Draco didn't know how to reply. He felt embarrassed because of his motives.

"If I may suggest something, Mr. Malfoy," said Quinn, a plan forming in his head.

"Huh?" uttered Draco in confusion, but that only made Quinn smile more.

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- (Scene Break) -

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Two days later, Harry, Ivy, and Hermione walked into the Great Hall for breakfast. Since Harry had become the fourth champion, the golden squad hadn't been having a good time. Ron had left them. The Hufflepuffs gave Harry glaring looks whenever he passed them by. Slytherins snickered at them. Ravenclaw also looked at Harry with judgmental eyes.

They thought that today would be no different, and outside Gryffindor, Harry, and through association, Ivy and Hermione would have to face the pointed looks and whispers for another day.

Harry clicked his tongue when he saw someone walk towards him with a big smirk on his face.

"I'm not in the mood, Malfoy," growled Harry.

Draco, along with a couple of Slytherins, were walking towards them. When Draco and others were close enough, they noticed something, each and every one of them wearing a large badge on the front of their robes. They saw that they all bore the same message, in luminous yellow letters that burnt brightly on a black background:

「Support CEDRIC DIGGORY - Hogwarts Champion 」

The message vanished to be replaced by another one, which glowed white on a light blue background.

「Support FLEUR DELACOUR - Beauxbatons Champion 」

Once again, the message turned, now it glowed gold on a brown background.

「Support VICTOR KRUM - Durmstrang Champion 」

Harry felt irritated as he knew that given Draco, he wasn't going to be on the badge, or if he was, then it was going to be something insulting, and his eyes twitched when the badge once again changed.

「Support HARRY POTTER - Hogwarts Champion 」

Ivy, Hermione, and Harry's eyes widened when they saw the latest red on gold. They waited to see if something would happen, but nothing did, as the batch continued to cycle between four.

Draco stepped close to Harry and smirked.

"Potter, you have to realize that I'm better than you. I'm up here," he said, putting his right hand near their head level, "and you are here down below." His left hand went as down as it could go.

"We're on entirely different levels. It's a pity that we have to tolerate you as our representative," he patted Harry's shoulder before scoffing, "You better not embarrass us, Potter."

With that, Draco placed three badges in Harry's hand, which the Boy-Who-Lived grabbed because of the suddenness of all of this. Harry could only watch in stunned silence as Draco and his Slytherin buddies walked away, leaving him very confused.

". . .What the hell."

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Quinn West - MC - This year's theme is international relations, huh.

Draco Malfoy - Slytherin - Pretending to have raised above conflict.

Harry Potter - Fourth Champion - Things aren't going his way.

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Chapter 147: Buzzing of An Annoying Bug

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

[ https://www.patreón.com/fictiononlyreader ]

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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"I know I'm productive and all, but they can't just foist all of this stuff on me. I'm a busy man for magic's sake," grumbled Quinn, making his way to the dungeons.

He had just exited charms class when McGonagall cornered him out of the classroom and handed him a task.

"It's my only free break. I'm bloody booked for the rest of the day," he said, taking a turn. He could finally see his destination.

However, when he had been within an earshot of the room, he heard a voice yelling out in a tone that was as unpleasant as nails scratching against a chalkboard.

"Antidotes! You should all have prepared your recipes by now. I want you to brew them carefully, and then, we will choose someone that will try one..."

Quinn peeked inside from the classroom's door. Snape was looking over his class. His students looked visibly uncomfortable.

'Aha... So that's how everyone looks in Snape's class, huh,' thought Quinn, feeling the vibe oozing out of the room. Quinn never felt it while in class as he was busy brewing potions and doing his homework.

He stood there and enjoyed everyone looking super uncomfortable for a few more seconds before knocking on the dungeon door, shattering the painful silence.

He entered the classroom and made his way to Snape's desk.

"Yes, Mr. West?" said Snape curtly.

"Good afternoon, Professor. I'm supposed to take Mr. Potter upstairs," said Quinn, smiling, as he turned his face towards the class. Harry was looking at him, with his sister Ivy and Hermione sitting behind him.

He turned back to look up at Snape, who stared down at him. There was no joy on his face or any delight in his eyes. The man looked like he had just come out of Azkaban.

"Potter has another hour of potions to complete," said Snape coldly. "He will accompany you when this class is finished."

"I am aware of that, sir, but he is needed upstairs," replied Quinn, matching eyes with Potion master, "All the champions are being summoned up to take photographs for the press release. From what I have been made aware of, Mr. Bagman and Mr. Couch along with the Daily Prophet team, have already arrived, so I think it's of priority that Mr. Potter gets up there."

Harry, on his seat, looked both glad and uncomfortable. He was more than happy to exit the Potion class, but he wished Quinn wouldn't have told them details. He glanced to his right to look at Ron, who was sitting with Dean Thomas.

"Very well," Snape snapped. "Potter, leave your things here. I want you back down here later to test your antidote."

"Actually, Mr. Potter, bring your things along," interjected Quinn, directly addressing Harry. "They want to see you in your school attire, book bag and everything."

"Very well!" said Snape. "Potter- take your bag and get out of my sight!"

Quinn ignored Snape's tone and words and moved back to the door. He saw Harry swung his bag over his shoulder, got up, and headed for the door.

"Now that wasn't pleasant, was it, Harry," chuckled Quinn when they were out of earshot of the classroom. "His mood was worse than usual. Did something happen?"

"... I don't know," replied Harry, looking down at the floor as he walked. "That git is always in a bad mood... ugh, why does he have to be so nasty to everyone."

"Hmm... I have no idea," answered Quinn. No way Quinn was going to explain to him that Snape pinned after his mother.

Harry looked up from the ground and turned to glance at Quinn. Out of all the students he had seen interact with Snape, Quinn was the only one who looked comfortable doing so. Other than him, no one wanted to have a prolonged conversation with Snape.

His eyes caught the badge on Quinn's robe as it turned from Krum's name to his.

"You made those."

"Hmm?" Quinn glanced at Harry and then followed his eyes to the badge on his lapel. "That I did. You like them?"

"Yeah, I saw the A.I.D. mark on the back," said Harry, putting his hand into his pocket, feeling his own badge. He looked up and then asked what he wanted to know, "But Malfoy has been distributing these, why?"

"Mr. Malfoy was the one who came up with the idea," answered Quinn, "I suggested some changes and produced them. I offered to take on the distribution, but he wanted to do it on his own. I guess he is doing fine, given that almost all students have a badge."

"Did Malfoy really come up with this?"

Quinn chuckled in reply, "I won't lie, Harry. Mr. Malfoy had come in with different motivations, but he had this badge in hand when he left, so we can say that all's well that ends well."

"If you say so," said Harry heavily as they climbed up the stairs to the ground floor. "What do they want photos for again?"

"The information about the Triwizard Tournament is going to be published in the papers and magazines. You and the other champions are going to be interviewed and photographed for the articles."

"Great," said Harry dully. "Exactly what I need. More publicity."

"Harry, you're already in the tournament. Lamenting your luck and feeling down about it isn't going to do you any good. You're already chosen as a champion, so I would personally suggest that you own it. I'm sure someone must've already told you about this, but you're now representing Hogwarts. To see one of our champions looking down and unenthusiastic all the damn time isn't something you want to show to outsiders... They will look down on you and take advantage of you. I'm assuming you don't want that. If I was in your place, I wouldn't want that."

"Do you? Would you want to be in my place?" asked Harry, staring at the guy who scored the highest in the entire school, who was undefeated in dueling, who was a Prefect, who owned his own unique thing inside Hogwarts and had saved him from getting kidnapped.

"Hmm," he thought about the question before answering, "If the circumstances were different, I probably would have entered my name. I don't care much about the rewards, but I would love to have the range of freedom that a champion gets during the year. Exemption from sitting in the classes is something beneficial to someone like me."

They reached their destination, so Quinn turned to Harry and gave him one last free piece of advice, "Move on, Harry. You might not like it, but you're the Boy-Who-Lived; you will be expected to act and perform a certain way. So, pull yourself together because you have a long year in front of you."

Harry heard what Quinn was talking about, and even though he couldn't wrap his head around it immediately, he nodded.

"Good, let's go in," said Quinn, opening the door and nudging the boy-champion into the room.

They entered a reasonably small classroom. Most of the desks had been pushed away to the room's back, leaving the room's half empty; three of the desks, however, had been placed end-to-end in front of the blackboard and were covered in velvet fabric. Five chairs had been set behind the velvet-covered desks. Ludo Bagman was sitting in one of them, talking to a lady they had never seen before in Hogwarts, who was wearing magenta robes.

Viktor Krum was standing moodily in a corner as usual. He wasn't talking to anyone. Cedric and Fleur were having a conversation. Fleur looked much happier than Quinn had seen her so far; she sometimes moved her head back to let her long silver hair catch the light. A paunchy man, holding a large black camera that was smoking slightly, was watching Fleur out of the corner of his eye.

Bagman suddenly spotted Harry, got up quickly, approaching him.

"Ah, here he is! The fourth champion! Come in, Harry, come in… there's nothing to worry about; it's just a wand weighing ceremony. The rest of the judges will arrive here in a moment—"

"Wand weighing?" Harry repeated nervously, but he seemed much better than before they entered.

"We have to check that your wands are fully functional, you know, as they're your most important tools in the tasks ahead," said Bagman. "The expert's upstairs now with Dumbledore. And then, there's going to be a little photoshoot. This is Rita Skeeter," he added, gesturing toward the witch in magenta robes. "She's going to write a little article about the tournament for the Daily Prophet..."

"Maybe not that little, Ludo," said Rita Skeeter, her eyes on Harry.

Her hair was set in elaborate and curiously rigid curls that contrasted oddly with her light-jawed face. She wore jeweled spectacles. The thick fingers clutching her crocodile-skin handbag ended in two-inch nails, painted crimson.

"I wonder if I could have a little word with Harry before we start?" she said to Bagman but still staring at Harry. "He is the youngest champion, you know... to add a bit of colour?"

"Certainly!" cried Bagman. "That is- if Harry has no objection?"

"Er-" said Harry.

"Lovely," said Rita Skeeter, and in a second, her scarlet-taloned fingers grabbed Harry's upper arm in a surprisingly firm grip, and she was about to steer him out of the room… but stopped when she glanced upon the student beside Harry.

"Quinn? Quinn West?" she gasped. Her hand released Harry's arm, and like a hawk seeing her pray, she swapped near Quinn, staring at him with a starry-eyed look.

"Hmm, yes?" Quinn looked at the woman in front of him. "Ms. Skeeter, was it? What can I do for you."

Outside, Quinn was his usual calm self, but inside, he felt like publicly clicking his tongue and making a face. He held it inside, though.

'She has recognized me? Was I photographed somewhere? Or she just remembers my face,' thought Quinn.

The one who represented the West family outside was Lia, while George and Quinn remained out of the limelight. But there were times when he and George would go to official events, which were sometimes photographed. In those events, Quinn would try his best to not get photographed, but it seemed Rita knew his face enough to recognize at first glance.

"It's so rare to see a West. I must take this chance," she harped as if others weren't there at all. "I would like to interview you before we start."

Bagman and Harry looked at Rita. They couldn't believe the woman's thick skin. She had just asked Harry for a short interview, but now she had jumped ships and targeted Quinn.

Quinn's eyes flashed for a second as he thought about his answer. After a few seconds, he answered, "I don't mind."

"Marvelous!" exclaimed Rita. She grabbed Quinn's arm and pulled him out of the room, opening another that was nearby.

"We don't want to be in there with all that noise," she said. "Let's see... ah, yes, this is nice and cozy."

It was a broom cupboard. Quinn stared at her.

"Or we can go inside that classroom," said Quinn, pointing towards a door opposite to the broom cupboard.

He didn't wait for Rita to object or reply and walked to the door, put his hand on the knob, silently unlocked it, and entered the room. Inside, he pulled out a desk and set two chairs, one on each side. He sat down and looked at Rita, who stood near the door.

"Ms. Skeeter, please, do sit. I'm sure you will want to hurry with the tournament press release starting soon," said Quinn gesturing to Rita to sit down.

The journalist didn't waste a single moment and sat down in front of Quinn with a swift speed that would put the nimblest of people to shame. She unsnapped her crocodile-skin handbag and pulled out a handful of candles, which she lit with a wave of her wand and magicked into midair so that they could see what they were doing.

"You won't mind, Quinn, if I use a Quick-Quotes Quill? It leaves me free to talk to you normally..."

Rita Skeeter's smile widened. Quinn counted three gold teeth. She reached again into her crocodile bag and drew out a long acid-green quill and a roll of parchment, which she stretched out between them on a crate of Mrs. Skower's All-Purpose Magical Mess Remover. She put the tip of the green quill into her mouth, sucked it for a moment with apparent relish, then placed it upright on the parchment, where it stood balanced on its point, quivering slightly.

Quinn smiled in return, leaned forward, and gently snatched the long acid-green quill out of Rita's hand.

"Wha-!" said Rita, about to ask what Quinn was doing, but her words died in her mouth when Quinn snapped the quill in half.

"I will be straight with you, Ms. Skeeter," said Quinn raising his eyes to look at Quinn. The smile on his face had changed; now, the corners of his lips were barely raised to form a very faint smile. "You will not be writing anything about me. Not a single word about Quinn West or the Wests, in general, will be published in the Daily Prophet or any other newspaper that you write for under aliases."

Rita giggled and took out another Quick-Quotes Quill of her bag. She performed the same ritual as before she began speaking.

"Testing... My name is Rita Skeeter, Daily Prophet reporter."

Quinn looked down quickly at the quill. The moment Rita Skeeter had spoken, the green quill had started to scribble, skidding across the parchment:

「 Attractive blonde Rita Skeeter, forty-three, whose savage quill has

punctured many inflated reputations — 」

"Lovely," said Rita Skeeter, yet again, and she ripped the top piece of parchment off, crumpled it up, and stuffed it into her handbag. Now she leaned toward Quinn and said, "So, Quinn… What do you have to say about the life of a child of the West family?"

Quinn's eyes remained on the quill, and even though he wasn't speaking, it was dashing across the parchment, and in its wake, he could make out a new sentence:

「A charming face, arrogant expression of a spoiled upbringing, a look that stares down on people as if regarding them as mere insignificant fleas —」

Quinn ignored the quill and the writing. He reached into his pockets and took out a playing card with a black and gold back and set it down on the desk.

"Ms. Skeeter. I don't care what you write about anyone. It could be as fake as your golden teeth, and I wouldn't bat an eye. As long as it isn't about my family or me, I honestly don't care. However, if you write about me, you won't enjoy what comes afterward."

He gently flipped the card, and instead of it being a number or a face card, what emerged was an image of a water beetle. Seeing the picture of the water beetle on the card made Rita freeze. Her wide, closed mouth smile cramped immediately.

"You're at the top of your game. Probably one of the most celebrated names in the business," said Quinn tapping his finger near the card. "You, at some level, have become a household name. It would be an absolute shame if all that hard work—"

The card was turned over, and instead of the black and gold back, there was a squashed water beetle with red blood in the background.

"— was crushed in an instant, turned to dust, forgotten with time as you are isolated in a dark cell with some not-so-colorful jailers... You wouldn't want that, right?"

Rita had gone stark white and very still. She, with a slight tremble in her eyes, stared at Quinn with fear evident all over. Her quill had gone limp, noiseless, with the tip just hovering over the parchment.

"... what do you want?" she asked, her fingertips white from clutching her crocodile-skin bag. If her identity as an illegal Animagus was released to the ministry, she would be hunted by the Aurors quicker than she could write her own name.

"I don't like repeating myself, Ms. Skeeter," he said, his face expressionless. "This will be the last time, so listen carefully. I don't want to see any article related to me or anyone I am connected to. If you do that, your naughty little secret will remain hidden, and if we're lucky, you and I will never see each other again. Understood?"

Rita wordlessly nodded, and Quinn waved his hand over the card for it to change back to a standard playing card.

"Let's return, shall we? I don't want to miss the ceremony." Quinn stood up, pocketed the card, and walked towards the door, but before he exited, he turned and warned, "Ms. Skeeter, if I see you fluttering around, getting your career ruined will be the last thing you will have to worry about... so be careful if you do visit Hogwarts."

Not giving her another look, Quinn exited the room towards the previous room to witness the weighing of the wands ceremony.

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-*-*-*-*-*-

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Quinn West - MC - Asserting control, schooling the troll.

Harry Potter - Fourth Champion - Has been having a few stressful days.

Rita Skeeter - Journalist - Water beetles are quite annoying.

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-*-*-*-*-*-

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If you have any ideas regarding the magic you want to see in this fiction or want to offer some ideas regarding the progression. Move onto the DISCORD Server and blast those ideas.

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