Chapter 217: DA Files: Styles and Imagination
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"Looks like everyone is here. . . Welcome back, all of you," said Quinn as he closed the Room of Requirements to anyone outside. He removed his outer robe and hung it on a coat rack that appeared beside him. "I hope all of you're feeling well and are ready for another day of fantastical and mystic magical learning."
He walked to the center of the Room of Requirements as the DA members gathered around him in a circle.
"Last time, we finally completed the duels, and I and hopefully you, now know where your fellow peers lay on the skill ladder," he said while rotating so he could look at everyone. "A key advantage of making you guys duel each other is that it showed which spell you think you know the best because usually in duels, people chose their best magic. . ." Quinn raised a finger with a short pause, ". . . or to be more specific, they chose the magic they think they're the best at — of course, that's not the cause, is it."
He turned to Tracey and raised her hands towards her.
"Tracey Davis here chose the Disarming spell to strip Padma's wand, and she thought it was her best or obvious option to end the duel but was it the correct decision — don't get me wrong, it worked — but her Disarming charm wasn't effective in a real-world scenario where the duel doesn't end at Disarming the opponent. . . Any thoughts on why I say that?"
From the circle, Harry raised his hand and spoke when Quinn nodded.
"The duel doesn't end until when you have entirely made sure that your opponent can't cast a spell," said the son of an Auror.
Quinn acknowledged and nodded approvingly. "Exactly, stripping your opponent off their wands doesn't mark the end of the duel." He pointed at Padma Patil, "When she was disarmed by Tracey, Padma still had her wand right beside her feet, which means Padma still had all the chance to rearm herself, continue the duel, and maybe even turn the table on Tracey.
"So, what we learn from Tracey and Padma's duel is that when engaging in a duel, front with your best spells, and by that, I mean the spells that you're a hundred percent can cast at a higher level of quality. . . if you're casting the Disarming spell, then make sure it whips the wand out of range. . . if you fancy the Stunner, then ensure that it knocks the person out. . . if the Full-Body Bind is what tickles your wand, then it better restrict your target like a death hold."
A third-year Gryffindor raised his hand hesitantly and asked, "What if we don't have spells like that," his voice quietened a level, "spells that we're good at."
There was a lot of eye shifting in the crowd as a lot of younger ones and even some older ones had the same question in mind but weren't as brave as the third-year Gryffindor to bring it up.
"That's why we are here," said Quinn smiling brightly to put everyone at ease. "The objective of us gathering here is to learn how to cast spells practically; you will learn defense and attacks spells, and even study various charms. . . I sincerely hope that by the end of our time together, all of you have a set of spells you're comfortable with."
Daphne raised her hand in question: "What are your preferred magics?"
Crippling-ice, drowning-water, raging-wind, perception-bending illusions, mind-magic, flesh-severing spells, a spell that disabled body parts. . .
"I like the Stunner," said Quinn smiling. "It knocks the target out — no muss, no fuss."
Another question was raised, this time it was Hermione: "What about Harry and Carmichael's duel; both used various spells. From what I have heard, the number of spells they used was extensive even for experienced duelers."
Quinn glanced at the boys in question and recalled the duel they had. There were indeed a lot of unique spells exchanged between the two.
He raised his arm and pointed at Harry, "Harry Potter is the son of a Senior Auror, and from what I know, he has to learn a thing or two from his father. It's not unusual for someone in Harry's position to learn a variety of spells, which he showcased in his duel."
Then he pointed at Eddie and continued, "Eddie is my best friend, and from that, I know how he learned magic. The way he duels is to cast a series of non-repeating spells, with every single cast packing a punch on its own. This way, the target can't get comfortable, and Eddie will exploit that discomfort to land in a hit."
Quinn and Eddie's difference in casting ability and strength of spells was akin to a great chasm. Eddie couldn't compare in that aspect; as such, he, a long time ago shifted to the tactic of variety and speed — he would never repeat a spell two times in a row and cast in the hopes of sneaking one in and from time to time he had indeed surprised Quinn and had come very close to get a hit, solidifying Eddie's belief, leading him to a path on which he learned and practiced a variety of spells — something that, Eddie as a Ravenclaw, had no qualms in doing.
"But!" said Quinn stressing. "You're not to copy both of these guys. The style they use is suitable for them because they," he turned to Harry and stared at them for a moment, "not they. . . Harry hasn't got the hang of the high-variety dueling style. If he reduced his choice of spells, he would've beaten Eddie."
"Hey!" said Eddie throwing his hands up.
"If you yapped less and cast more, you'd have won," said Quinn shrugging — "As I was saying, high-variety casting only comes after you're comfortable with a great number of spells and cast them under pressure. If you're not skillful with various spells, you will mess up when it really matters."
"What do you use?" came a question.
"I keep my spell-choice limited and only use a selected amount of spells according to the situation," answered Quinn.
Quinn met the requirement for high-variety dueling, but a lot of his spell arsenal was tied up in various situations:
Ice was extensively used by Invisible Vigilante,
Water was tied up by his stint at the Great Lake,
A lot of the spells that he was comfortable using in duels were 'dark' in nature,
Illusion magic was free, but he hadn't developed a way that would fit in with his current dueling style,
Mind magic was one of his foremost fortes, but the fact that he was Legilimens was a tightly kept secret,
Body magic was definitely on the table,
Wind magic was still in development, but it was definitely at a stage where 'Quinn West' could use it. But it was his decision to keep it as a last resort,
Any of the above magics could be used by 'Quinn West,' but he refrained from using them because they might attract attention and connect back to him.
Quinn snapped out his thoughts when another question was raised to him.
"Then is — limited-variety, can we say that — worse than high-variety?" said Blaise Zabini.
"Not at all," said Quinn after a pause to collect himself, "if you choose your spells wisely and master them, understand their use case, and delve into variations, you'll have the confidence that they will work for you no matter what the situation. . . High-variety style can be challenging to use with practical effectiveness; that's why it's only seen used by Aurors and Hit Wizards who are trained in various spells to combat every situation they come across."
He once again pointed at Eddie.
"Look at him, he might practice high-variety, but his spells are largely offensive spells with a severe shortage of defense spells. If he wasn't so overbearing and quick with his offensive spells, he would've miserably failed at dueling," Eddie puffed his chest in pride, but Quinn cut him down the following sentence, "but if someone more skilled — not powerful — than him got the initiative, Eddie would be screwed sooner than he could get a cuss out of that mouth of his."
"Hey!" said Eddie once again, throwing his hands up.
"The point being is that it's better to concentrate on what is part of the Hogwarts curriculum," said Quinn, "but you have to go beyond the level and master the variations and capture the essence because that's the only way you'll actually succeed at limited-variety style."
Quinn clapped his hands once.
"Let's stop the chit-chat and get at the good stuff. You guys are going to divide into pairs and then use spells against each other. It's the best way to learn, and it's really fun one-up your partner," Quinn pointed at Eddie with his thumb. "Ask Eddie; he partners up with me when he wants to learn a spell. Ask him how fun and effective it is."
When everyone turned to Eddie, they saw him make a disgusted face as if someone had just stuffed a scoop of poop into his mouth and tied it shut. One-on-ones were effective, but they weren't fun when you were against Quinn because he would land every hit, and it would soon get frustrating; it was only because of Eddie being Eddie that he was able to hang on without rage quitting.
"We will start with something straightforward, something at a very basic," said Quinn after everyone had divided themselves into pairs. "The Disarming charm will be the first spell that DA will learn, and the first step of it is to learn to learn how to get disarmed."
There was a pause in the excited pairs on officially learning settled down for a moment.
"You mean learn how to disarm," said Ivy.
Quinn shook his head, "No, it's to learn how to get disarmed."
The murmurs rose. Discussing. What did Quinn mean by learning how to get disarmed; was there a correct way to get. . . disarmed?
"The best way to learn a spell is to experience it," stated Quinn. "Of course, there are spells like Reductor spell which you can't experience and spells like Stunners which are harmful after a couple consecutive hits, but spells like the Disarming spells can be experienced. So what I want you to do is concentrate on how your hand feels when someone disarms you. . . I want a person from the pair to disarm the other person five times in a row before switching the other way round. . . Remember, concentrate on the feeling of getting disarmed."
The feeling of confusion and doubt grew inside the Room of Requirements as the pair members stared at each other, but. . .
"EXPELLIARMUS."
Everyone looked in the direction of the chant and saw Daphne Greengrass picking up her wand and holding it straight up for Tracey Davis to cast again — "EXPELLIARMUS" — the wand flew up once again and fell into the air. Both girls were experienced with Quinn's methods as he had made them understand what it meant to 'pull' while he taught them the Seize-and-Pull spell.
Then another Disarming chant came from another direction, and everyone saw Eddie Carmichael and Marcus Belby staring up towards the ceiling. Marcus raised his hands up and caught his wand that dropped into his hand from very high up.
"Can't you go easy?" said Marcus, "I fear that the wand might poke my eye out."
"Hmmm," Eddie made the sound before — "EXPELLIARMUS" — and Marcus' wand went flying into the air, really high.
Another two Disarming spell chant was heard, and they turned to see Harry Potter & Ron Weasley, and Ivy Potter & Hermione Granger cast the Disarming spells. Three out of four had gone through the same ordeal just last year — they were just thankful they were starting light.
"Stop staring and start casting!" Everyone turned to see Quinn sitting on the ground, legs crossed, with a big block of dark-gray stone in his hand. "I want everyone to at least get sick about getting disarmed; that's the aim~."
The room was suddenly full of shouts of "EXPELLIARMUS!": Wands flew in all directions, missed spells hit books on shelves, and sent them flying into the air. Quinn would look up from his rock time-to-time to glance around and thought he had been right to suggest that they practice the
basics first; there was a lot of shoddy spellwork going on; many people were not succeeding in disarming their opponents at all but merely causing them to jump back a few paces or wince as the feeble spell whooshed over them.
'I guess it will take some time,' thought Quinn before going back to his rock.
Parvati Patil and Lavender Brown casted Disarming charms on each other, with frustration building in both girls.
"Ugh, how long do I have to do this — EXPELLIARMUS!" said Lavender.
Parvati picked up her wand with a fed-up expression and aimed it at Lavender as it was her chance to disarm Lavender. Her hand was feeling chaffed at her wand repeatedly being stripped out of her grasp. She winced a little as the wand in her grasp hurt and kept the tens of disarming fresh in her wand.
'Aah, aah, disarming, disarming, disarming, it's so frustrating!' she thought, and the feeling of a wand being disarmed grew stronger with her anger — "EXPELLIARMUS!"
A scarlet zap escaped her wand struck Lavendar's hand; the wand flew high into the air, and Parvati blinked in surprise as the wand spun in the air and dropped into her raised hand.
"Huh?" Parvati stared at Lavander's wand in her hand with surprise. In her last turn, she was barely able to push Lavender's wand out to a distance outside her reach; getting into her own hand wasn't even in her sights.
"Oh, you did it. Nicely done."
Parvati turned to see Quinn standing at a distance from her.
"By any chance, were you thinking about getting disarmed while casting?" he asked.
"Y-Yes," said Parvati, still surprised to have cast the spell so well.
"Now, how about carrying that same feeling but this time channel them towards Lavender specifically," said Quinn in advice.
Parvati nodded hurriedly, and after returning the wand to Lavender, she once again cast — "EXPELLIARMUS" — and this time, she followed Quinn's advice. Once again, Lavender's wand was in Parvati's hand.
"It was easier this time," said Parvati fascinated.
"That's to be expected," said Quinn with a smile, "that's how magic is cast — magic within, focused through your wand, shaped by our intents and imagination, made possible with the knowledge and the chant.
"Now, can you explain what you felt and did to Lavender?" asked Quinn.
Parvati nodded and immediately got to sharing her newly gained ability with Lavender as if she had just heard a new hot piece of gossip that was just too good not to be shared.
That day, from Parvati and Lavender, a chain of explanations and demonstrations spread into the entire Room of Requirements as, one by one, people started to understand how intent, imagination, and knowledge worked together to form and shape magic.
"Till the next time I want you guys to practice the spell on anything you can disarm; it can be clothes from hangers, lids from bottles, rings from fingers, anything you can find, BUT!" he raised his voice, "it shouldn't be outside the four walls of your dorm room. If Umbridge gets a whiff of you trying spells out in the hallways, she will take advantage of the no magic in hallway rule and push you into harsher detentions than needed."
And with that, the DA meeting was dismissed.
After ensuring everyone was out of the Room of Requirements, the Prefects in DA, with knowledge of patrol routes, led their respective houses back to their common rooms. Hufflepuff and Slytherin took a common route to the Dungeons, while Ravenclaw and Gryffindor took another route to descend a couple of floors to go to their common rooms.
When they were on the fifth floor, Ivy watched as the Ravenclaw group turned towards their common house, but she noticed that Quinn was missing.
"Huh, but I just saw him with them on the seventh floor. . ." She turned to Hermione and asked, "Does Quinn have patrol duty today?"
"No, he isn't on duty for two more days," said Hermione.
'Then where did he go?' wondered Ivy as they descended down to the fourth floor, and she looked up the Grand Staircase. He could've gotten down only one floor between the seventh and fifth floor, and that was the sixth floor.
'But what's he doing on the sixth floor,' she wondered.
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Quinn West - MC - Get sick of it to get good at it.
Eddie Carmichael - Ravenclaw - Hey!
Parvati Patil - Gryffindor - So, like, it was so, like. . .
Ivy Potter - Leader of DA - Noticed the vanishing act.
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Chapter 218: The Vault Is A Vault
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Magic was a supernatural force that changed aspects of the world at fundamental levels while allowing the possessors to perform feats outside the norm — feats like sensing what lay inside the deep, dense stones.
Quinn sat on the pedestal as an exceptional amount of magic flowed out of his body into the stone all around him; every knock and cranny of the vault room washed in his magic, filled to the brim, not a single grain of stone was left untouched by Quinn's magic.
'Uh-huh,' thought Quinn as he channeled Earth magic, 'I'm close. . . I'm really close; it just needs a little bit adjustment. . .'
Icy vault required his Ice magic to be excellent in both pure strength and fine laser control and skill. The Aquatic vault had the same arrangement with the solution to each trial being a mix of strength and skill, albeit each trial gave more weight to one than the other.
But now, as Quinn sat in the Architect's vault, he realized that this room only required pure skill for Earth magic without a requirement for power. Anyone with a decent amount of magic could train fine-train their Earth magic to succeed in this room, and currently, Quinn was close to making a breakthrough in his Earth magic skill. What he was trying to accomplish was to spread his magic into the stone and turn it into a sixth sense that would provide him a 'view' of the entire room.
'The fuzziness is because I lack control over my Earth magic.'
Quinn's magic in the stone shifted at his command — the density of his magic thickened in some places while in some areas, the magic thinned.
'Remember, it's not about the quantity of magic. The vault doesn't require floods of magic. Stigweard Gragg was an architect; he was the Architect. . . a profession that requires precision, calculation, and sureness to bring their creations to life.'
The design and nature of his magic changed. The days of him studying the type of this particular stone were ingrained in his mind, one of the most immersed memory books that he possessed in his mindscape.
'Imagine being present in every particle of stone. . . put yourself in the Architect's shoes. . . remember how to cast magic — focus your intent, apply the knowledge you have learned, and turn imagination into reality. . . and. . . bring about the blueprint, an architect's blueprint.'
Then it happened.
Quinn inhaled noisily as his magic clicked into place. The fuzziness that he experienced lifted in all but an instant, and everything became clear as if he was looking at the insides of the stone walls, floor, and ceilings in a brightly lit environment.
He opened his eyes and whispered, "Illusion. . ." and the next moment, the self-illusion he cast on himself translated his Earth sense into vision — granting him something akin to x-ray vision.
'Illusion magic is convenient like that,' thought Quinn.
That was the last errant thought in Quinn's mind as the awe of the sight in front of him overtook his mind.
"Stigweard Gragg. . . for the love of magic, he really was an architect through and through, wasn't he."
On the day, he had found that there were hollow spots inside the walls, floors, and ceiling; Quinn matched it with the solution to opening the archway but not in his slight imagination did he imagine that the fuzzy hollow would be something like this.
Every inch of the room, except the solid pedestal, was covered in gears of hundred sizes, shafts of different lengths and thicknesses, levers of different configurations, mechanical switches that locked into various places, rotating axils with screw-ends, oscillating half-wheels, deadbolts jammed into cam slots at dozens of sites, locking everything into place.
'The entire vault is god damned lock,' thought Quinn as he couldn't voice it in words.
Just below the pedestal were nine thick plates of stone, each connected to an intricate mechanism that, when solved, would separate the plates from the middle, pulling them apart, allowing the pedestal to sink a level with every solution.
"What a masterpiece," he muttered, "what ingenuity, what creativeness, what must his mind be like for him to create something like this."
Every vault before this had been 'magical' in nature, but the Architect's vault was purely mechanical, without a trace of magic except the fortification of stone and fail-safes in case someone tried to brute their way through the vault. Just the thought of someone turning the entire room into one huge lock mechanism.
". . . I don't know this level of lock-picking."
Believe it or not, he had ordered various locks to pick while doing extra research on Unlocking charms (he followed the same method he taught in DA), but this was another level — this was the level used in complicated safes and. . . vaults.
Quinn jumped down from the pedestal and put his hands to his sides.
"I suppose I need to learn how to pick safes now," he said while sighing but with a big smile on his face.
This was going to be different; he could feel it, and it made him excited all over again. He was going to learn something new, and that made his body fill up with giddiness.
"This is going to be grand."
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The Golden Squad exited Hagrid's house after having a good long chat with the recently home half-Giant.
"He was in bad shape," said Hermione sighing.
Ron snorted in response, "Bad is saying it lightly. I'm pretty sure he had his ribs broken." Broken ribs weren't a severe injury in the magical world, but it was terrible anywhere if the injury was left unintended for days or yet more than a month, as in this case.
Hagrid's hair was matted with congealed blood, and his left eye had been reduced to a puffy slit amid a mass of purple-and-black bruises. There were many cuts on his face and hands, some of them still bleeding, and he was moving gingerly, which made Ron suspect broken ribs. It was evident that he had only just got home; a thick black traveling cloak lay over the back of a chair, and a haversack large enough to carry several small children leaned against the wall inside the door. They saw Hagrid himself, twice the size of a normal man and three times as broad, limped over to the fire and placing a copper kettle over it.
"We should inform Madam Pomfrey about him and tell her to heal him before Umbitch gets to him," said Ivy deciding the best course of action.
The other three nodded. Umbridge had been overbearing these days; it was like she was out looking for even the smallest things to blow them out of proportion.
"But to think that Voldemort has been going after Giants," said Harry, "I wondered why someone like that bastard was so quiet, but it seems he was trying to get the Giants to his side."
"Never knew that the Ministry was on a lookout for Portkeys," said Hermione. It took a month to get to the place where Giants lived, and because anyone associated with Dumbledore was being monitored, Hagrid couldn't take a Portkey to the location and had to physically travel there.
Hagrid had told them that when he, along with Maxime Olympe, had reached the largest tribe of Giants on this side of Europe — a total of eighty Giants.
There were hundreds of tribes of Giants dotting the entire world map, but because they lived in small groups, it wasn't feasible for Voldemort to send delegations to each tribe as giving gifts to every small tribe was too costly and required too much effort; that's why this eighty Giant tribe was the only attainable option and thus was the one where Dumbledore sent Hagrid and Maxime to.
Hagrid and Maxime presented the Giant chief, Karkus, with gifts to garner his and the tribe's support — Giants loved magic, but because they couldn't perform it, so they liked to collect magical items; Dumbledore had sent a branch of Everlasting fire to help them to keep warm in the winter and cook food. Other gifts included a goblin-made helmet for the chief of a battle-hungry race and a great roll of old dragon hide.
Unfortunately for the Order of Pheonix delegation, just when Karkus had finally sat down with them Hagrid and Maxime to listen to them, tragedy struck — Giants weren't meant to live in tribes with more than a dozen members, and it seemed like an outsider bearing gifts had offset turmoil in the large tribe as the very next night, there was great inner-fight in which a dozen Giants died along with Karkus, the chief.
Giants were a violent race and had no qualms about killing their fellow members over food, best sleeping spots near warm fires, women, and that's why Giant tribes weren't larger than a dozen Giants each as that was the highest number a deep mountain or forest could adequately provide for without inciting in-fighting.
The next day, a new chief was elected, Golgomath.
The new chief, it seemed, was on a power roll and wanted to assert dominance to consolidate his position as the head, as the moment Hagrid presented them with their final gift (a great roll of dragon skin), Hagrid and Maxime were captured and hung upside down. They only escaped because of Maxime Olympe whipping out her wand and injuring their captures before making a break for it.
That was the end of Hagrid's and Maxime's talk with the tribe, as Giants hated the wizardkind. The humans had been hunting Giants for a very long time and were one of the reasons why Giants had gone through a great thinning in population worldwide. The moment Maxime had used wanded magic, any chances of communication were closed.
And as Hagrid and Maxime hid in caves to heal themselves before heading out, they chanced upon the newly arrived Death Eater delegation. And they had sent a familiar face, Macnair, which was why Golgomath didn't hang them up on sight; the rest was handled by a series of gifts to appease and impress the new chief.
"In the end, Voldemort got the Giants' support," said Hermoine worriedly.
The four fell into silence as their minds turned in each's imagination of the repercussions of Giants falling into Voldemort's hands. Giants were hard to kill or even subdue.
"Hey, isn't that West there?" said Ron, breaking the silence as he pointed a short distance away from Hagrid's house.
Harry, Ivy, and Hermione turned to where Ron was pointing, and they saw Quinn leisurely walk out of the Forbidden Forest trees while stretching his hands over his head.
"Isn't he cold?" said Harry commenting on Quinn's attire; he only had a shirt and pair of pants on him, and they were already in peak snowing season.
Ivy raised her hand high and reached out to Quinn loudly, who stopped in his tracks and turned towards them. They say him raise his hand and wave back.
"How're you four doing today," said Quinn as both parties met halfway. His eyes went to where they previously stood and saw the smoke churning out of the hut's chimney, "Looks like Hagrid's back at Hogwarts. I suppose now that I'm here, I'll say hello to him."
"He has just returned," said Harry hiding a jump in his voice, "and is tired from his travels. . . we should probably leave him alone to settle back and rest; Hagrid did say that he wanted to get in a good nap in his own."
Hagrid's Giant adventure was a secret mission given to him by Dumbledore. It was wise if the news didn't spread, given Umbridge's close proximity to Dumbledore and Hagrid. Harry feared that if Quinn saw an injured Hagrid, the word would spread because they couldn't keep him quiet without telling him the reason behind the injuries.
"Is that so; then I'll just greet him when I see him in the Great Hall," said Quinn shrugging.
"Why aren't you wearing more clothes. It's freezing out here," said Harry changing the topic.
Quinn looked at his attire, and it was indeed not weather-appropriate, but on the other hand, he wasn't feeling cold right now, so he once again shrugged,
"I'm feeling fine now, but you're right. . . my clothes do seem out of place," he took out a wand and conjured a robe around his body, "do you guys feel comfortable now?"
The Golden Squad were confused, but they nodded.
"What were you doing on in the Forbidden Forest?" asked Ivy curiously.
Quinn tapped his pant pockets and smiled, "I was collecting a herb or two for making potions. Forbidden Forest is a great place to pick out some great herbs, and you know what the best part is; it's one hundred percent free."
The Golden Squad stared at the West heir, who was making a proud impression at saving money on potion ingredients.
'They seem to be buying it,' thought Quinn observing the Golden Squad. He couldn't tell them that he was stalking the magical wolf tribe that lived in the Forbidden Forest, watching them, their civilization, and their culture.
The clothes on his body were actually his transformed Noir-Suit, and he had, without any reason, turned them from a dark-forest camo to casual shirt and pants.
Last year, he had made plans to observe the tribe, and this year, he was executing them. His motive was to study the wolves and see if they held a clue to cure Lycanthropy in werewolves. They were the descendants of two Lycanthropy mating under the full moon in their werewolf forms. It was a good possibility that their unique birth could help solve Lycanthropy.
These wolves essentially had their human forms eliminated by birth, sure their intelligence came from the human side of their parents, but there were plenty of non-humanoid species with human-level intelligence. If these beings could have their human physical traits removed, why couldn't Lycanthrope be cured of their wolf aspects?
"So, did you guys inform Hagrid about Umbridge?" Quinn asked as they walked towards the castle as Quinn lazily waved his fake wand back and forth, shoveling snow out of their way.
"We did," said Harry, "Hagrid said that he has some interesting stuff planned for the year. . . I just hope Umbridge would find it interesting as well."
"I doubt it," said Ron scoffing with raging disdain. "She seemed chummy with that Grubbly-Plank lady; she'll try to make Hagrid's life difficult."
It was no secret that Ronald Weasley disliked the new Care for Magical Creatures' Professor. That dislike increased when Grubbly-Plank's inspection went surprisingly smoothly, with Umbridge being the least amount annoying she could be. Credit to Grubbly-Plank for being a good Professor and staying entirely out of politics.
"Speaking of. . ." Hermione jutted her chin forward, and the group looked up to see Umbridge standing in the Entrance Hall with a clipboard in her hand, scribbling things while looking around the Entrance Hall.
"What's she doing?" muttered Harry suspiciously.
"Some sort of inspections to find out. . . probably to undermine Dumbledore's upkeep ability of the school," Ivy garnered a guess as the group consciously turned into a different direction.
"But isn't she chummy with Filch?" asked Ron.
"This is Umbridge we are talking about; she won't hesitate a single second in betraying Filch; that woman is lower than a fleabag," said Harry with a nasty humph.
Filch, as few knew, was a Squib and thus couldn't use magic. Even though house-elves were excellent in upkeep, if Umbridge could find something directly related to Fudge, she could connect it back to Dumbledore and get him a demerit — a severe problem in these dire times. While Filch was in charge of cleaning, Dumbledore was in charge of Filch, and with Dumbledore's inability to retain a DADA Professor, it would seem like Dumbledore wasn't adequate in his role as the Headmaster.
"Ah, children, what might you be doing here, dears?"
The five stopped in their tracks, and four of them released groans and whines. They turned towards the High Inquisitor walking towards them with her stumpy legs, looking funny to Quinn, but he held back the smile, chuckle, laugh, and guffaw.
"What can we do for you, ma'am?" asked Quinn pleasantly, refusing to say the word Professor but still getting by just below the line.
Umbridge looked at Quinn up and down, and a sweet smile stretched over her human-like face. A shine of vigor shone in her eyes like a child finding her favorite candy.
"May I ask why aren't you in your school robes, Mr. West," said Umbridge.
"You may not," said Quinn shortly.
". . . You don't have your uniform on nor your outer robe."
"And there's nothing wrong with that."
"You're a student of Hogwarts, Mr. West," said Umbridge stressing her point.
"That I am," said Quinn smiling, "I'm even a sixth-year Prefect."
"That will be a detention, Mr. West," said Umbridge, smiling widely, giddy.
"As I said, I'm a Prefect, I know the rules," said Quinn smiling in return, "After classes for the day ends, students are no longer required to wear their uniforms. . . for reference, it's Policy Sec 1, Clause 1.5, Page 8."
He had memorized the rules years ago in case he was caught in some trouble and needed to weasel his way out. Umbridge reeled back in dissatisfaction. She, of course, hadn't bothered to read Hogwarts student rules and regulations.
"I'm the High Inquisitor—"
"And as I said before, you don't have the authority over the things you're trying to enforce. . . I expected more from the High Inquisitor," said Quinn non-chalantaly before clasping his hands in front, "Now, we'd leave you to the important work you're doing and leave as to not waste your time."
Quinn immediately walked away without waiting for a reply. The Golden Squad followed after a beat. They had heard that Quinn had shut down Umbridge, but this was the first time seeing him in action.
"That was a little weak," said Quinn in retrospection, "I could've gotten in a jab or two more; I will make sure to remember that for the next time."
The Golden Squad had no words for him except a strange sense of admiration and reverence.
Back in the Entrance Hall, Umbridge fumed in silence. She was getting angrier by the second. Her interactions weren't going well, and she was always on the losing front.
"Just because he's from a powerful family doesn't mean he can get away with this," said Umbridge, gritting her teeth. "He's just a kid. . . a naive, disciplinable rude brat," a glint appeared in her eyes, "he wants authority, then I will give him authority."
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Quinn West - MC - Bringing past projects to fruition.
FictionOnlyReader - Author - Mid-terms over!!!
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