Chapter 246: Quidditch Cup Finals
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The link is also in the synopsis.
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Quinn walked into the Hogwarts library, the single largest "room" in Hogwarts solely dedicated to books. He passed by the long front desk, manned by the eagle-eyed Madam Pince, who peered into the soul of everyone who entered her dominion, trying to instill the fear of horrible demise if any of her dear children were harmed.
He strode through the sturdy bookshelves packed with thick tomes — dictionaries, encyclopedias, and historical texts — that lined the walls, marched across the floors in rows, forming a maze of sorts for the Hogwarts student to navigate to the reading areas.
The sound of his footsteps against the marble floor could be heard as well as the sound of someone as much as clearing their throat a few bookshelves away. He entered the reading area, the most "noisy" part of Hogwarts, with the students collaborating in hushed tones while others scribbled over their parchment hunched over some book that they had picked out for their assignments.
Quinn looked around, searching for the person he had come to meet. It didn't take more than a few seconds — she sat in the same place they occupied every day since the start of their meetings.
"Good evening, Daphne. How're you today?" Quinn said, carefully pulling out the chair to not make any noise.
"Good evening," she said, looking up from her cache of AID notes.
"Only eight weeks remain to your OWLs," he said, "how do you feel about that? Ready to knock it out of the park?"
Daphne nodded.
"Excellent, what do you want to cover today?" asked Quinn, settling himself in the chair as he peeked over to what she had opened in the AID notes.
"Arithmancy: The Law of Quadruple Pairings."
"Ah, no wonder. That one's a bit tricky, but I do have a trick that'll help you get a grasp of things. You actually don't need to. . ."
In the library, with a ward around them stifling all outgoing sound, Quinn tutored Daphne while clearing any doubts she footed. It wasn't difficult for Quinn to teach someone smart like Daphne, who had basics down; as such, time passed quickly, with Quinn enjoying going over some topics he himself hadn't touched in some time.
"I guess that's it for today," said Quinn. He pushed the parchment with a solved example towards Daphne. "Your Arithmancy just needs practice. Solve some more problems, and that'll get the concepts clear."
Daphne nodded while comparing what she had done with Quinn's work.
Quinn tilted his head. There was something different about Daphne today, he thought. His eyes slightly narrowed, wondering what it was, trying to pinpoint why it seemed so distant today.
"Daphne," he called.
"Yes?"
"Please, look at me."
The quill in Daphne's hand stilled. She glanced up from her work and looked at Quinn as he asked. "Yes?" she asked.
"Is there something wrong?" he asked. "Why does it seem that you're avoiding eye contact with me, and you haven't spoken much today."
"It's nothing like that. You must be imagining things."
Quinn stared at Daphne, but the girl went back to taking notes. There was once again a silence between them. Quinn took account of the three-quarter of the hour they had spent together; Daphne hadn't spoken to him other than asking questions. Something was clearly bothering her.
"Daphne," he said again.
"How're things going at AID?" Daphne asked but didn't look away from her work. "I heard you sold a lot of notes after the reopening. You're again going to get busy. . ."
Quinn opened his mouth only to close it. There was clearly something bothering her, but he couldn't tell what it was. He tried to think if he missed something — her birthday, no, that had already passed; had he promised something, not that he could remember.
A silence settled between them as Quinn gazed at Daphne while she never looked up at him. Then it struck Quinn, and he knew he shouldn't, but it did turn his frown upside down.
"Daphne. . . I'm still going to teach you, you know," he said, leaning towards her with his cheek resting on his palm. "This isn't going to end just because AID reopened."
Daphne's quill stopped, and she finally looked up from her work. "You don't have to do tha —."
"We're going to continue this," said Quinn, cutting her off and intertwining his fingers with hers. "This might have started because AID got closed, but that doesn't, in any way, mean that it has to stop now that AID reopened."
Daphne grasped Quinn's hand back.
"You're cute worry about silly things," said Quinn, grinning. "If you don't like something, you can always-always tell it to me."
Daphne nodded, "It's just that, I enjoy our time a lot and. . . but you get busy so. . ."
"I do too, so very much, and if I want to spend time with you, then I'll take out time to do so — no excuses."
In the quiet library, two people grew closer than they were before.
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With the OWLs, NEWTs, and the rest of the end-of-term examinations right on the horizon, it was time to pack up the extra-curricular and co-curricular activities for the year and go into study mode. In Hogwarts, there was no bigger out-of-curriculum as Quidditch, and today, was the day for its biggest game of the year.
"YEAH, HEHEHE-AH!! Hogwarts! Are! You! Ready! For the biggest game of the season?!"
Quinn's voice riding on the loudspeaker pitched to every corner of the packed stadium — Hogwart students wearing their team colors, carrying rain gears in case of a downpour, holding their bottles, mugs, and glasses of butterbeer while screaming and chanting through their freshly painted faces. Pennants and flags flew throughout the stands as the Hogwarts crowd sat shoulder-by-shoulder, showing camaraderie among even the most estranged housemates — half-naked boys could be seen dotting the crowd with their bellies painted with numbers and letters, offering the most excitement many had shown through the entire year, while some threw food at anyone who wasn't in their camp.
"Yeeessss! Oh boy, now I'm regretting skipping the last game," Quinn grinned into the microphone. "The game hasn't even started yet, but I can already tell that it's going to be a great one! And putting a little sparkle into this game, I'm happy to announce that for this season's finale — Ravenclaw versus Gryffindor, I'll be joined by a guest announcer. Give it up for the one-and-only, Head Boy, Captain of the Hufflepuff's, Champion of Hogwarts — CEDRIC DIGGORY!!!"
A crackle coughed in the stadium as Cedric amped up the second microphone. "Thank you for that introduction, Quinn. It's an honor to be a part of this game, but I would like to start with correcting you on something — I'm no longer the Captain of the Hufflepuff Quidditch Team, I stepped down from that position after our last game."
Cedric's voice caused the Hufflepuff crowd to burst into applause, whistles, shouts, and cheers for the best player and Captain they had in years.
"Ever so noble, aren't you, Mr. Diggory. Well, nevertheless, your contribution to Hufflepuff Quidditch and Hogwarts Quidditch as a whole can't be ignored," Quinn flipped over a sheet on his little commentator's table. "You're Hufflepuff's all-time top-scoring Seeker with most the most snitches caught in the least games played. Your Hogwarts career spans over five years — six if we include last year's Quidditch Tournament, and you were made Captain when you were in your fourth year and have held onto the posting till this year — in that time, you led Hufflepuff to their highest win-to-loss percentage in a century — an impressive resume no matter how you look at it."
"You flatter me. I couldn't have done it all alone. I have my team members having my back on the pitch and the entire house supporting me to thank for. They have been with me every step of the way."
"My magic, you're humble. Have you thought of joining politics? I predict you'll do great there. Ah, it seems we have to cut this conversation here as Ravenclaw and Gryffindor have entered the field," he added at the end, seeing the entry signal.
Both teams flew out of their corners, emerging out of blue and red fogs, as they flew low, nearer to the ground, just below where the stands started, circling around the pitch in formation, giving the people a glance at the two teams competing for the Cup and the position of the best team.
"Today's game is quite exciting even without the final tag attached to it," said Quinn. "First of all, we have to talk about the Weasley twins."
"Yes, we have to," said Cedric. "Today can't be talked about without mentioning those two. It's their last game today, after all."
"Yes, the Weasley twins, Cedric, I apologize for the analogy I'm about to use, but if you're a historical figure in Hufflepuff Quidditch, then the Weasley twins are going down as historical figures in the annals of Hogwarts Quidditch."
"I forgive you," said Cedric, chuckling.
"Fred and George Weasley are all-time great Beaters in Hogwarts history. They're the best duo in a very long time, a couple of centuries, to say the least. I have some data, but that doesn't do both of them justice; they have been consistently phenomenal in their six years of their playing. They have been terrifically effective against Chasers squads no matter what the year, no matter what house. It has been a pleasure watching them play, and I regretfully say that after today, Gryffindor is going to lose an asset that had been their backbone for years, going back to the Oliver Wood era."
"I agree wholeheartedly with you, Quinn. But, as we are talking about last games, it's the last game for Angelica Johnson and Alicia Spinnet as well. After today, Gryffindor will not only lose the Weasley menace, they'll also lose two-thirds of the Gryffindor Vixens, leaving only Katie Bell as an experienced Chaser."
Quinn nodded deeply. He wasn't a huge Quidditch buff, but when you had been doing commentary for years, it was inevitable that he had become knowledgeable about the sport. "After today, Gryffindor is going to lose their long-standing continuity and will need to rebuild. I just hope they'll be able to come together strong as ever the next year."
"And, we can't ignore his return to the Quidditch field," said Cedric, and the crowd knew exactly who he was talking about.
Quinn smiled, "On the orders of Headmaster Albus Dumbledore, the season-long ban on Harry Potter, the Gryffindor Seeker, has officially been lifted for the final game of the season. He'll be replacing Ginny Weasley, who had been seeking for Gryffindor in Potter's absence."
Harry Potter flew in the front of the Gryffindor Team, one of his hands gripping his Firebolt, while the other waved to the crowd as both teams stood in the center of the pitch.
"But today, they're going to be facing Ravenclaw," said Cedric, a bitter smile on his face.
"Yes," Quinn chuckled, "with four Gryffindor players retiring today, I fear that it might turn out to be the feel-good ending they're aiming for."
"No, not with how he's playing," said Cedric, "it'll take a titanic effort for them to overcome this Ravenclaw Team."
On the field, the two teams faced each other, waiting for Hooch as she performed a pre-game check on the game balls.
"So, Johnson," said Eddie, making Angelilook at him, "you decided to put Potter on the field, huh. Are you sure that's a smart decision?"
"Oye, Carmichael, don't spout nonsense," Ron said, limbering up shoulders and neck.
"Hey, I'm just asking," Eddie said, raising both his hands, looking at Harry, "I mean, Potter hasn't been on a broom this year, he might be rusty, and you know, the Weaslette had been playing well, so was it really a good move to bring in someone who hasn't played in a while when the Cup is at stake?"
"Keep yourself to your team, Carmichael," said Potter, "or who knows, you might not get to touch the quaffle, and I'll have the snitch in my hand."
"Alright, if you say so," said Eddie, rocking back-and-forth on the heel of his feet, "you know you're right, I need to keep myself to my team," he wrapped an arm around Roger Davis' shoulder, "it's Captain's last game, so the least I could do is to send him off with the Cup. That seems to be the most fitting farewell." He looked at Angelina, Alicia, Fred, and George, "We can let you guys touch the Cup for a while if you guys want."
"Oh, Carmichael," said Fred, and George continued, "we are looking forward to jamming a Bludger in your face today."
Eddie threw his head back and laughed, "All the power to you, guys. You guys tried last time, and see where that got you, let me tell you — a crushing defeat."
He glanced at Hooch walking toward them and turned to Ron, "Oye, Weasley, the not-funny one, yeah you. I'll be coming for you today, hard, so try to touch the quaffle, okay? I'm warning you because I don't want to see you crying after the game."
Back in the commentator's booth, Quinn watched as Hooch raised the quaffle. "Alright, rowdy people, Madam Hooch has raised the quaffle; the game is about to start; let's see who gets the initiative and spearheads the game," his voice boomed through the stadium.
On the pitch, Harry tensed on his broom, angling it perfectly before the start of the match. He tuned out Quinn and waited to see the quaffle fly up into the air.
The second the official tossed the quaffle, he moved his Firebolt as quickly as it could rev up. He banked left and flew spinning between the two Ravenclaw center chasers before they could make a play for the quaffle. Both dispersed, attempting to not get part of a collision when the free-quaffle was up for grabs.
Cho attempted to follow Harry but wound up blocked by her own Chasers.
The result was the quaffle fell unclaimed. At least until Alicia cut under it. She reached out to the falling quaffle, but before she could reach it, a blue blur scooped up it before her.
"What a diversion by Potter!" Cedric's excited voice boomed in the stadium. "Spinnet's speed was impressive; for a second, I thought she would go uncontested — but Carmichael struck again; no one's better than him the first grab! There he goes, gaining altitude — and what's this he scores on the low side — Ron Weasley misses it by a foot! Score! That's a quick 10-0 to Ravenclaw!"
Eddie pulled up on his broom, coming to a halt before he went behind the goal hoops, and turned back to go back to his side, and on his way, he winked to Harry, who had come near to Gryffindor hoops.
"That was indeed great diversion, Potter," he said, "but it's going to take a lot more than that to keep me away from MY quaffle."
Harry wrinkled his nose as his brows furrowed. That diversion was planned and practiced so that they could get their hands on the quaffle first and start with the tide on their sides. It was proven from the previous year's games, and this year, every time Eddie got the first grab on the quaffle, Ravenclaw would almost always lead, and it became difficult to wrestle that lead away.
It seemed today was no different, and Ravenclaw gained a strong lead.
Eddie shifted the gears on his broom, cutting very close to Angelina, causing her to drop the quaffle. It was quickly picked up by Eddie, who tossed it to the other Chaser, who fed Roger Davies for an easy goal. Eddie's eyes glanced up to the scoreboard quickly. 120-40 was a promising start. But it meant he still had to be on high alert.
As much as he liked Cho as his teammate, she wasn't doing much more than following Potter around. And he wasn't sure if she could keep up Potter from out-flying her.
'Well, I just need to score more,' he thought and got back to work.
The game continued, and both teams began piling up points — Ravenclaw much more than Gryffindor. Soon, the game reached its climax.
It wasn't long before the golden ball was spotted, fluttering lazily down by the ground. It couldn't have been more than a few feet from the grass. Harry spun his broom around and angled himself into a corkscrewing dive until he had the line he wanted. Cho immediately followed after him.
"And Potter dives again!" Quinn announced for everyone in attendance to hear. "Is it a feint? I think it's not! Oh, there he goes rushing. Chang follows, oh, she gains upon him! Potter's back in the lead. . ."
It was then Cedric spoke up into his microphone, "Carmichael has the quaffle. Everybody! The score's 350-200! If Carmichael scores before now, Ravenclaw will win the game no matter if Potter gets the snitch or not, but if he doesn't, the game will go to a shoot-out! Will he able to. . ."
Everything went silent for Eddie as he flew towards the goal hoops. The crowd's voice disappeared, the commentators became non-existent, there was only him and the goal hoops with only faceless silhouettes in his way.
'It felt good,' he thought as he dipped below a raging Bluder, rammed his arm into someone's chest to shake them off of him.
This was the time Eddie felt in complete control. Despite the rushing wind assaulting his ears, he could listen to his heartbeat and even to the sound of his breathing. The pressure of the game on the line brought something out of him that nothing else did.
'Ah, I hope this never ends.' He cocked his hand up his shoulder and threw the ball towards the uppermost of the three hoops. The quaffle left his hand, his fingers putting his special spin on it. He watched as faceless silhouette dived towards the quaffle, but the quaffle suddenly rose and slipped the blocking hand, dinged into the hoop's ring, and fell past the circle.
The silhouette turned back into Ron Weasley and sounds returned.
"GOAL!" he heard Quinn speak, and immediately a second after, he heard Cedric speak, "Potter's got the snitch! But it's too late; Carmichael scored! 360-350 for Ravenclaw! Ravenclaws are the new champions!!!"
Eddie's chest rose up and down as he stared at the scoreboard. He looked at his team celebrating in the middle of the field. But he didn't join them; instead, he flew towards the teachers' booth where commentators sat.
Quinn spoke as soon as he arrived, "Eddie! You won! Boy, you're a champion now! You did —"
Eddie placed his legs on the railings, the broom still under him, and pulled Quinn by his shoulder, cutting him off mid-sentence.
"Listen!" Eddie said, his heart beating hard in his rib cage. "Listen," he said again, "I. . . I'm going to do this!"
"What? What do you mean," said Quinn, still leaning over the table as Eddie didn't let him go.
"I. . . have decided. . . Quidditch, I'm going to do Quidditch," said Eddie.
Quinn blinked a bit as the realization struck him, "You mean after Hogwarts," he grinned, "you're going pro after Hogwarts?"
"Yeah, I will be a pro, yeah."
Quinn's smile bloomed. Before Quidditch, Eddie switched things every week. It was only Quidditch that he stuck on.
"Alright, go do it!" said Quinn. "You go become a pro! Someday, I'll buy a team and have you play for me."
Eddie nodded, but it seemed he wasn't listening to it. He let Quinn go and flew away, but again, he didn't go to his team; instead, he flew toward the stands.
He landed in the crowd of green as the crowd parted to give him space. His eyes only had for a brunette that sat in front of him.
"Eddie?" said Tracey Davis, standing up from her place, but before she could say anything, Eddie pulled her close and. . .
"Holy shit! He kissed her!" Quinn's surprised voice spread in the stadium.
Tracey, wide-eyed with surprise, was pulled into her first kiss, but then realization struck her about what was happening, and her arms coiled around Eddie's neck as she leaned into the kiss.
Sitting beside her, Daphne watched with her brows raised higher than ever as her best friend kissed Eddie Carmichael in broad public with so many watching. She wasn't sure if she could do that in front of so many people.
Eddie and Tracey's lips stopped their dalliance as they stopped to breathe; their foreheads rested against each other.
"I wanted to do that for a while now," said Eddie, putting his arms around her waist, pulling her closer.
Trace smiled, "No one was stopping you. . ."
"I'm going to need more."
"We can go now."
"Okay."
The cheers spiked up, but the two couldn't hear anything.
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Quinn West - MC - He did it! Oh my god, he did it!
Eddie Carmichael - Future-pro - Kissing = Good.
Tracey Davis - Delightfully surprised - Already thinking about which broom closets are the best because. . . Kissing = Good.
FictionOnlyReader - Author - Sniff. . . my boy is all grown up!
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Chapter 247: Professor of DADA
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The link is also in the synopsis.
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"What's the use of sitting here when nothing's going to happen," said Eddie, his arms crossed with a frown marring his face. "I could be dueling you in the grounds outside than sitting here wasting my time."
Quinn flipped a page on his book; his facial features softened, his features relaxed. "If you want to, we can play Accio-Tug-of-War to pass the time," he said.
"No, I'm not feeling like Accio-Tug-of-War right now."
"You just don't want to lose."
"Nuh-uh!"
Marcus sitting between Eddie and Quinn, placed his palm on his open book in his hand and looked straight up. "If we are called here, then there must be a new Professor who will teach us today." He turned to Eddie, "it would look good if you do a revision on the theory — no, I'm not talking about Umbridge theory — be ready in case someone does come to teach us so that we don't embarrass ourselves. It'll do us no good to blame Umbridge now, so try to brush up on the topics."
Today was the first day after Umbridge's arrest, and first thing in the morning, they had been called to the Defense Against The Dark Arts for a supposed class.
"Do you know about something," asked Eddie, taking out an actual Defense Against Dark Arts book from his bookbag. "Did the Professors tell the Prefects something about who's coming for the class?"
Quinn shook his head. There was no notification to the Prefects about what was going to happen in today's class.
"Do you think Alastor Moody is going to come in?" asked Marcus. "Or maybe an Auror would come to teach us? That'd be exciting. . . do you think they'll answer my questions about the Azkaban Eleven?"
Quinn chuckled, "Why're you already assuming that it's going to be an Auror?"
"What if it's a Hit Wizard?" Eddie asked. In his mind, Hit Wizards, who were exclusively combatants with much more firepower, were much more interesting than Aurors, who were a mix of combatants and investigators.
"Who do you think it's going to be?" Marcus asked Quinn.
"I can't say," said Quinn, "maybe, Professor Lupin would return till the end of the year."
"Or-Or, maybe-maybe," said Eddie, raising his finger, "we're looking at it the wrong way, and it's not something one from outside — I bet it'll be Snape. Didn't he want to teach Defense Against The Dark Arts? I'm sure he wants to get his stinky hands on the job."
And so it happened that Eddie was indeed correct, or at least partially true, as his words were immediately followed by an amused chuckle from near the classroom's door.
"Professor Snape did ask to be put in charge of the Defense Against The Dark Arts, but with the OWLs and NEWTs so close, it wasn't a wise decision to give a teacher the duty of two subjects."
Quinn, Eddie, and Marcus turned their heads towards the back of the room, and there stood Dumbledore smiling by the door, his hands behind his back, peering at them through his half-moon glasses that sat near the edge of the bridge of his nose.
"And because I found myself free, I decided to take on teaching," Dumbledore smiled widely as more and more students started to turn to look at him — immediately straightening up at the sight of the Headmaster standing by their door.
Dumbledore walked through the front of the class. He took out his wand and, with a flick, the green board on wheels pulled out from the corner to the front of the class. A stick of pinkish-red chalk rose from the board's ledge and wrote Albus Dumbledore on the board.
He faced the class and was about to address the students but stopped to look at the windows in the classroom. Another wave and the numerous mirrors and lenses hanging around the room, fixed on ends of mechanical arms, adjusted themselves — with every adjustment, the stream of light coming from the windows would get directed by the mirrors and lenses to light up the classroom better than it had been ever before. No Defense Against The Dark Arts had been in the position long enough for them to get proficient at the lighting system.
"Good morning, dear children," Dumbledore's beard rose at the edge of his mouth. He didn't get a good morning back because of the stiff-surprise in the room. "From today till the end of this year, I'll be taking Defense Against The Dark Arts for all years — first to seventh — as your Professor. Unfortunately, you won't be able to find me in the Professor's staffroom like the others, but I'm willing to stay behind after every class to answer your questions. Yes, Mr. Belby, please ask your question."
Marcus lowered his hand and asked, "Sir, aren't you a Transfiguration teacher?"
"That's correct, but before I was the Head of Transfiguration and a Professor of Transfiguration — I was a Professor of Defense Against The Dark Arts — in fact, it was my first full-time job. So please be assured, I'm qualified to teach you the subject."
. . . That wasn't ever a doubt, though the entire class. The greatest magical in the country as a long-time educator was a dream that even the uninterested of students would pay attention to.
Quinn replaced his book into his bookbag, took out a notebook and pen to pay attention. No way was he going to do other homework or work on his Occlumency when Dumbledore was teaching a class.
"Now I understand that it's too late for us to follow a formal curriculum and get all of you caught up with what a sixth-year student would usually learn," students looked at each other worried — even if they had performed well enough in their OWLs to attend a NEWT level DADA class, if they didn't score well in their sixth-year, they would be removed from the seventh-year part of the NEWT-level course, "so we aren't going to follow a formal curriculum; instead, our classes will be a series of interactive sessions about Defense Against The Dark Arts, that I think will be beneficial for all of you. Please don't worry, the end-of-year examinations will be adjusted accordingly, and I'll personally set your papers and practicals based on what we discuss in our sessions together."
That alleviated tension from the shoulders of students worried about the end-of-year examinations.
"Yes, Mr. Hopkins," Dumbledore said to Carl Hopkins, Gryffindor, who raised his hand.
"Professor, what would we do about next year? The NEWTs cover everything we were supposed to learn this year and will learn the next year. We haven't learned anything from Umbridge, and that would affect our NEWT scores."
"I'm already in talks with Madam Professor Griselda Marchbanks — the Governor of the Wizarding Examinations Authority that runs OWL, NEWT, and WOMBAT. She sympathizes with the egregious errors made this year and has already put into the process to change the criteria for OWLs and NEWTs. Of course, next year, your batch will require to learn an extra amount to at least cover topics required to contribute to the seventh year curriculum."
"That seems fair," said Eddie aloud for everyone to hear.
Knowing smiles surfaced on a few faces in the classroom — the faces of DA members. They couldn't care less if the end-of-year examination were the same as usual, and having that confidence felt good, so much so that their hidden smiles edged to smug.
"Now, I'd like to open this class with a question on which we would build for today," said Dumbledore; he raised his wand, and the stick of chalk rose with it writing as Dumbledore spoke: "What do you all think is important for magic to work to its fullest?"
The answers came immediately.
"Knowledge," said Katie Bell, a DA member.
"Intent," followed Cho Chang, another DA member.
"Emotion," finishes Marcus, yet another DA member.
Dumbledore's hand moving up to stroke his beard, stopped midway, and a smile surfaced as the rapid answers sunk it. ". . . That is correct," he said, "those three — Knowledge, Intent, and Emotion — those were the answers I was looking for. Fifteen points to Gryffindor and thirty to Ravenclaw. Then can you also tell me why they are important?"
"Knowledge about what you want your magic to accomplish is required as information and understanding gives the magic a solid structure that is essential for a witch to cast magic effectively," said Katie, expanding on her point. "Without knowledge, magic's too unpredictable and quirky to cast consistently."
Cho immediately followed after Katie, "Intent is basically having a clear image of what you want your magic to be. If you're casting a disarming charm and have a clear image of a wand flying off the hand, then the magic will work much better than when you don't have an image in mind and are hoping that chant and wand movement would do the work for you. The clearer your intentions, the more the magic will work as you want it to work."
Dumbledore opted out from speaking and turned to Marcus, who started talking when Dumbeldore looked at him. "Emotions are the power behind magic; channeling emotions into magic will provide magic with an extra punch, with a peppy efficiency, and with an ease that just doesn't come otherwise. To provide an example, shield charm, Protego, works a lot better when you're thinking of a memory that invokes determination or perseverance or defiance," said Marcus.
Dumbledore's eyes all but gleamed with delight. "Twenty-five points to Gryffindor and fifty to Ravenclaw," he said before asking. "Mr. Carmichael, can you tell me when knowledge isn't necessary to cast magic."
Everyone's head turned to Eddie, who sat leaning into the seating bench, one of his hands resting on the bench's back and behind Marcus's back.
"For a majority of magic, asking for complete knowledge about every step of the magic is terribly improbable and not at all feasible. To take an example, if one wants to transfigure a desk into a pig, then it's too much to ask for the knowledge of the pig's anatomy — but the fact remains that we have been already taught this magic, and many of us can perform it.
Now to directly answer your question, while having a base knowledge is critical, it's not necessary to know all of it — the magic will take of what you don't know. Of course, the more knowledge and understanding one has, the easier it gets for them to cast. But the point remains that one doesn't need to know everything to successfully cast a piece of magic."
"Fifteen points to Ravenclaw," said Dumbledore, smiling eye to eye. "Children, if you keep answering like this, I fear that Ravenclaw and Gryffindor will have substantial leads by the time we end today." He turned to Quinn and posed him a question, "Mr. West, tell me the demerits of emotions."
"Emotions are the powerhouses pumping the extra life into magic, but that extra something can very easily get out of control if the emotions aren't kept in a check. Even without magic, emotions have the tendency to heavily influence people, and when you put them into the playing pen with magic, while they're able to create something spectacular, they can just as cause chaos and derail both the spell and cause major harm to the caster.
For example, using the feeling of glee or happiness to cast magic like. . . a cheering charm will render amazing results, but if you don't keep these emotions in check, then they'll cause substantial difficulties.
Happiness and glee might seem harmless emotions, but if one lets them affect you while casting magic, they will desensitize the caster from feeling sadness and sorrow, and no matter what the situation, they'll keep feeling happy. Soon, excessive optimism will kick in, and the decision-making abilities will suffer. They'll get easily pleased and easily persuaded, which would bump up the chances of getting taken advantage of by getting scammed. Thus, it's important to keep any and all emotion, WHILE CASTING MAGIC, in check."
"Excellent! Take twenty points for the answer," Dumbledore said, and the death stick shot mini-fireworks from its tip. "This. . . all of this was all I wanted to cover today and in the next session, and it seems that some of you have a marvelous handle on the understanding of these topics. It saves me from giving an introduction, which I'm deeply impressed for, so now, let's dive into these three factors and learn in detail how you can use and manage these aids to the best of your advantage."
Dumbledore then started to speak about knowledge, intent, and emotion. And for the entire class, Quinn couldn't find a stretch of minutes where he could put his pen down as he feared he would miss jotting an exciting new interpretation or insight on the topics that Quinn thought he had already had a good handle.
'Ah, this is it. Now, I remember how this felt,' thought Quinn as he made a note in his notebook. The last time he had felt like this was when learning Occlumency with Alan. Every word related to mind magic that ever came out of Alan's mouth was so insightful, so effectively phrased, and so utterly wise that Quinn had many a time found himself coming of trances.
Right now, he was touching on a feeling almost identical to that. Dumbledore was really good, thought Quinn. He didn't want to disrespect the other Professors, but they had nothing on Dumbledore, just with one class from the headmaster.
At the end of the class, Dumbledore stood by the door, bidding the students goodbyes as they exited to make space for the next class to come.
As Quinn walked by Dumbledore, he nodded, "Professor Dumbledore."
"Mr. West, great job today," greeted Dumbledore smiling, but then his eye widened as his eyes followed after Quinn, who had already walked away with the crowd.
The smile on Dumbledore turned deeper as his entire face portrayed the emotion he was feeling. He couldn't help but chuckle and then laugh some.
After all, Quinn West had just called him Professor for the first time.
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Quinn West - MC - Taught a lot and learned a lot.
Albus Dumbledore - Headmaster Dumbledore - Professor Dumbledore.
FictionOnlyReader - Author - Short chapter. Next chapter, we move to the vault. I might complete in one, but I think it'll take two to complete the entire task, reward, and surprise.
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