Download App
62.44% HP: A Magical Journey [Complete] / Chapter 275: Moving Towards The Future

Chapter 275: Moving Towards The Future

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

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

The link is also in the synopsis.

.

-*-*-*-*-*-

.

The ceiling of the Great Hall was serenely blue and streaked with frail, wispy clouds, just like the squares of sky visible through the high mullioned windows. While they tucked into their meat pies and eggs and bacon, Quinn, Marcus, and Eddie conversed about the AID announcement that had just happened.

"So, Astoria got a detention," said Eddie while looking at a book of Quidditch schemes and plays, "and that too with Snape."

"As much as I loved Astoria's little stunt," said Quinn, swallowing his bite of the fried egg. "She should have done her preparation and got the permission to change the banners. I mean, Astoria should have known that she would get detention — the Weasley twins got one every time they did a prank in the Great Hall."

Quinn had to bring Astoria to at least a level that she would be able to operate AID without a hitch, and doing it in three months was a challenge. Like a baby wouldn't touch a burning flame a second time, Quinn had to make sure that Astoria would learn her lessons after a single mistake — and the best way to do that was to make her experience the punishments/consequences. He was well aware that Astoria would get in trouble with her banner stunt, but he didn't tell her so that moving forwards, she would do her due diligence and always cover every addressable point that could give her problems.

"How did you do the card trick?" asked Marcus, digging into his rashes of bacon. "There was a card beneath every plate; I'm sure you didn't transfigure cards beneath every time someone sat down at the tables."

"That was quite easy, actually," said Quinn. "I passed the cards to the house-elves down in the kitchen and asked them to attach the cards to the bottoms of every plate they sent to the Great Hall." As there was no fixed seating on the House long tables, the house-elves would send a plate in front of every student, no matter where they sat.

After they had eaten, they remained in their places, awaiting Professor McGonagall's descent from the staff table. The distribution of class schedules for NEWT classes was more complicated than the ones from year first to fifth, for Professor McGonagall needed first to confirm that everybody in the sixth year had achieved the necessary OWL grades to continue with their chosen NEWTS, while the seventh years were required to prove that they at least had an acceptable (the lowest pass grade) in their chosen NEWT subjects to continue studying them this year.

"Mr. West," said McGonagall, "please ask the Prefects to guide the students into lines so that I can confirm their eligibility — seventh years come first and then the sixth."

"Of course, professor."

Eddie and Marcus were immediately cleared to continue with their chosen subjects, as neither has scored below an 'Exceed Expectations (EE)' in any of their subjects. McGonagall didn't even flip to Quinn's report card to check if he cleared his subjects. There were barely any Ravenclaw seventh-year students that didn't pass in their subjects. Even in the sixth year, Ravenclaws got the subjects they wanted — though everyone had their own strengths and weaknesses.

Next came Gryffindors, and the first one in the sixth-year students was Neville Longbottom, who took a little longer to sort out; his round face was anxious as McGonagall looked down his application then consulted his OWL results.

"Herbology, fine," she said. "Professor Sprout will be delighted to see you back with an 'Outstanding' OWL. And you qualify for Defense Against the Dark Arts with 'Outstanding.' But the problem is Transfiguration. I'm sorry, Longbottom, but an 'Acceptable' really isn't good enough to continue to the NEWT level. I just don't think you'd be able to cope with the coursework."

Even after a year's worth of DA, Neville's motivation and a new wand resonance could only take him so far. Neville had to catch up with multiple years of practice that he missed because of a non-compatible wand. And while he had done an impressive job, he could only do so much. Moreover, DA was primarily focused on Defense Against Dark Arts, and Neville's motivation led him to focus more on those, leaving Transfiguration, a subject Neville disliked to be left on the back seat.

Neville hung his head. McGonagall peered at him through her triangular spectacles. "Why do you want to continue with Transfiguration, anyway? I've never had the impression that you particularly enjoyed it," she asked.

Neville looked miserable and muttered something about "my grandmother wants."

"You have to grow a backbone, young man. It's your life, not hers. If you don't step up, then she will never let go. Please have confidence in yourself, Mr. Longbottom, you're a fine individual, and you have to understand that there's no need to compare yourself with your father."

Neville turned very pink and blinked confusedly; McGonagall had never paid him a compliment before.

"I'm sorry, Longbottom, but I cannot let you into my NEWT class. I see that you have an 'Exceeds Expectations' in Charms; however — why not try for a NEWT in Charms?"

"My grandmother thinks Charms is a soft option," said Neville in a low mumble.

"Hmph," snorted Professor McGonagall. "Should I send Professor Flitwick, the dueling champion, to your house, and maybe they will have a pleasant talk about Charms being a weak subject.

Take Charms, Mr. Longbottom, and I shall drop Augusta a line reminding her that just because she failed her Charms OWL, the subject is not necessarily worthless." She smiled slightly at the look of delighted incredulity on Neville's face; McGonagall tapped a blank schedule with the tip of her wand and handed it, now carrying details of his new classes, to Neville.

Quinn winked and gave thumbs up to Neville, who passed by him with a positive glimmer in his eyes. Slowly but surely, Neville Longbottom was gaining the confidence he never had.

McGonagall turned next to Parvati Patil, whose first question was whether Firenze, the handsome centaur, was still teaching Divination.

"He and Professor Trelawney are dividing classes between them this year," said McGonagall, a hint of disapproval in her voice; it was common knowledge that she despised the subject of Divination. "The sixth year is being taken by Professor Trelawney."

Quinn made a wildly displeased hearing that the centaur was staying as Parvati walked away looking crestfallen.

The next ones in the line were the Golden Trio. The first in line was Hermione, who, like Quinn, didn't need to have her scores checked as McGonagall remembered her grades.

"So, Potter, Potter, Double Potter . . ." said Professor McGonagall, consulting her notes as she turned to Harry and Ivy, who stood behind her brother. "Charms, Defense Against the Dark Arts, Herbology, Transfiguration, Potions . . . all fine. I must say, I was pleased with your Transfiguration mark, Mr. Potter, very pleased. Are you going to go down the same path as your father and become an Auror?"

Harry nodded. If it was a couple years back, he would have spoken about becoming a professional Quidditch player, but right now, he was serious about becoming an Auror and helping his father, who had been facing dangerous situations with rising Death Eater activity.

"As for, Ms. Potter, are you still on your path to becoming a Curse Breaker?" asked McGonagall, passing Ivy her schedule after confirming her scores. "Your Ancient Runes, Arithmancy, and Charms scores were high even in the 'Outstanding' category — you will do well in the curse and ward space."

Now that was something Quinn didn't know about Ivy. Curse Breaker. . . it was a generalization for the people who wanted to work with complex wards and spells. They studied runic languages to understand wards and inscribe runes to build their own wards. They even learned how to deconstruct spells, reverse engineer them, create new spells as not all spells were general knowledge — and say to undo a curse or spell, one needed the counter-curse, which could be gained through vigorous research on the casted curse or spell. And it was one of the most sought-after magical jobs in the magical society and thus one of the few jobs with stringent requirements with high scores in Ancient Runes, Arithmancy, Charms, Transfiguration, Astronomy, and a strong base in Magic History and Theory.

"Yes, Professor, I haven't changed my decision," said Ivy. Even though it was one of the more dangerous jobs, she wanted to pursue it. She turned to Quinn, who stood by McGonagall's side and asked, "What about you, Quinn? What do you want to do after Hogwarts?"

Eyes turned to the Headboy. There were several DA members within earshot, and all looked back to their time in the Room of Requirements to remember if Quinn had ever talked about what he wanted to do.

"I plan to travel the world after Hogwarts," said Quinn. He already had a job as an inventor, which paid him well enough for a lifetime in royalties. He wasn't looking for a conventional job. "I have an apprenticeship lined up that I will undergo when I'm ready, but apart from that, I don't have any short-term plans on what I want to be."

"Travelling the world to gain a wider outlook is an excellent plan," said McGonagall, glancing back at Quinn. "You see places different from home and learn to appreciate all the wonderful and beautiful that the world has to offer."

Quinn nodded with a smile. He was here, after all, to see what this world had to offer him.

Ivy twirled a strand of her hair as she muttered to herself, "Traveling the world, mhm, that sounds nice. . ."

Ron was the next in line, and he cleared the five core subjects — Transfiguration, Charms, Defense Against The Dark, Potions, and Herbology. Maybe it was because Hermione, but Ron had barely passed the requirements; however, the Weasley hadn't taken any other subjects than the five, nothing more.

Next came the Slytherins. The first in line was Draco. He stood in front of McGonagall with an uninterested gaze. He didn't care about school, grades, subject — not after he had gained a very special branding on his forearm. He wasn't even planning to return to Hogwarts for his last year — as he saw it. . . Hogwarts didn't matter.

"Mr. Malfoy, you qualify to sit in NEWT classes for all the subjects you gained OWLs in," said McGonagall. He had nine 'Outstandings' and one 'Exceed Expectations.' '"Will you be attending all your classes?"

Draco glanced at the empty schedule and was about to ask that his subjects were cut down to the core five, but his eyes caught Quinn standing behind McGonagall. Quinn was staring at him with fixed eyes. Draco couldn't tell the meaning behind the gaze, but it made him conscious. He looked away, unable to face the gaze that felt like it was judging him, looking down at him. . . disappointed with him.

Draco clenched his fist tight and looked at the still empty schedule. He looked at McGonagall and spoke, "Knock out Astronomy, Care, and History. . . I. . . am taking the rest."

"Off you go," said McGonagall, handing Draco his filled schedule.

As he turned away, Draco glanced at Quinn, who was no longer looking at him, and then at his schedule with complicated eyes.

"Next is. . . Daphne Greengrass," Quinn said as he watched Daphne walk out of the Slytherin line and step in front of McGonagall.

"Ms. Greengrass, hmm, your year only have a handful of students who're aiming for Healers. . . and I don't know how many will make graduate with enough requirements for healers," said McGonagall with a sigh as she looked up at Daphne. "I hope you haven't changed your mind about it."

"My goal to become a Healer is set, professor. I'm not going to change it ever," said Daphne. She glanced at Quinn. He was the reason why she could study and learn without the looming pressure of hurrying things. Without Quinn, Astoria's illness would continue to bubble inside her body.

"Good, good," McGonagall said, sighing in relief. It was one of her responsibilities to make sure that students who were aiming for high-requirement careers didn't get scared away from them.

She had been having problems with Aurors for a very long time — since Snape had started teaching. Aurors only selected the very best, and they, on their end, weren't having any problems as those who scored well in Snape's tough class were elites, but McGonagall had a problem as the number of applicants had been declining over the years.

She turned to Quinn. "Mr. West, you have been learning from Poppy; why don't you try being a Healer." She glanced at Daphne and said knowingly, "You can give Ms. Greengrass some much-needed company."

Daphne had a faint shading of red on her cheeks. She didn't believe that the 'serious as a warden' McGonagall would imply what she was implying. It also made her aware that the professor knew her and Quinn's relationship.

"I won't lie, professor, that's an attractive prospective," said Quinn, gazing at Daphne, "and maybe if the flow takes it, I'll go with what you suggest."

There were a few 'oohs-and-aahs' from the girls in earshot, which made Quinn smile and made Daphne's blush grow deeper.

"Now, Ms. Davis," McGonagall said to the smiling brunette, the sunshine of Slytherin, "you have chosen to go into your family's Herbology and Apothocery business," she looked at Tracey's grades, "and you have chosen the appropriate subjects for that. . . though you have chosen to eliminate Care of Magical Creatures. . . won't that be detrimental?"

"It's okay, my father's going to teach me about Care on his own," said Tracey politely. She, like so many, didn't want to say that they didn't want to attend because Hagrid was going to teach the subject, and after taking the subject for a couple of years of attending the class, they knew it was going to be crazy. . . and not in a good way.

After everyone was done and everyone had left, McGonagall stood up from her chair and faced Quinn. "Mr. West, will you be joining your family business in the future?" she asked.

"Hmm? No, I won't be involved in my family business actively. That's not for me, professor. I'm more interested in magic," said Quinn.

". . . and that's why you want to travel?"

"Yes, I'm going to learn magic all around the world," then Quinn paused before continuing, "and then I'm going to solve problems. . . yeah, I'm going to use magic to solve problems."

.

-*-*-*-*-*-

.

Quinn West - MC - Maybe that's it.

Draco Malfoy - Sixth-Year Slytherin - 'Why did I do that. . . ?'

Ivy Potter - Sixth-Year Gryffindor - Aiming to go into magical research.

Daphne Greengrass - Sixth-Year Slytherin - 'Studying Healing with Quinn. . .'

Harry Potter - Sixth-Year Gryffindor - Following into his Father's footsteps.

Tracey Davis - Sixth-Year Slytherin - Family Business, here I come.

.

-*-*-*-*-*-

.

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.

The link is in the synopsis!


CREATORS' THOUGHTS
FictionOnlyReader FictionOnlyReader

Just like always,

Review, comment, add to the library, and share this fic.

Thx

Link To Discord

https://discord.gg/w5dJ82SfMr

Chapter 276: First Of Two Subjects

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

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

The link is also in the synopsis.

.

-*-*-*-*-*-

.

In Hogwarts, the people attending a specific lesson were decided upon the number of people attending the subject. For core subjects like — Charms, Potions, Herbology, Transfiguration, Defense Against The Dark Arts, Care of Magical Creature, (and, History of Magic, Astronomy,) where a lot of students attended, the classes were divided into groups of two Hogwarts Houses. But, for the subjects like Ancient Runes, Arithmancy, Divination, which weren't chosen by every student, those classes were merged into one class where all House students would learn together. This model was adjusted on the NEWT level (sixth and seventh-year students.) NEWT students had the absolute choice of only taking the subjects they needed or liked. If a subject had many students attending, they would be divided into two batches, but if that's not the case, there was only one batch.

Even in the NEWT years, Defense Against The Dark Arts still had enough people attending for two batches. It was a subject popular enough that even the prospect of Snape didn't put a dent into the number of students.

The seventh-year Ravenclaw and Gryffindor waited outside the classroom in a queue, waiting for it to open so that they could enter. The classroom door opened as they chattered away, and Snape stepped into the corridor, his sallow face framed as ever by two curtains of greasy back hair. Silence fell over the queue immediately.

"Inside," he said.

The classroom had changed from the last year. Snape had imposed his personality upon the room already; it was gloomier than usual, as curtains had been drawn over the windows, and was lit by candlelight. New pictures adorned the walls, many of them showing people who appeared to be in pain, sporting grisly injuries or strangely contorted body parts. Nobody spoke as they settled down, looking around at the shadowy, gruesome pictures.

"I have not asked you to take out your books," said Snape, closing the door and moving to face the class from behind his desk; a majority of Ravenclaws hastily dropped their copy of Confronting the Faceless back into her bag and stowed the entire bags away. "I wish to speak to you, and I want your fullest attention."

His black eyes roved over their upturned faces.

"You have had five teachers in this subject so far, I believe. Six if we add the Headmaster."

"Naturally, these teachers will all have had their own methods and priorities. Given this confusion, I am surprised, so many of you scraped an OWL in this subject. I am further surprised that so many of you were able to get a grade above 'Acceptable' in your sixth year, which was much more advanced than your OWL course.

This year is your final, and believe me when I say that this will be the toughest of them all. If you got to the seventh year by scrapping together an 'Acceptable,' then be ready for a rude awakening."

Snape set off around the edge of the room, speaking now in a lower voice; the class craned their necks to keep him in view.

"The Dark Arts," said Snape, "are many, varied, ever-changing, and eternal. Fighting them is like fighting a many-headed monster, which, each time a neck is severed, sprouts a head even fiercer and cleverer than before. You are fighting that which is unfixed, mutating, indestructible."

Quinn stared at Snape. There were those who despised the Dark Arts, then there were those who respected the category of magic as a dangerous enemy. But Quinn was sure that when Snape spoke of it, the man had a loving caress in his voice.

"Your defenses," said Snape, a little louder, "must therefore be as flexible and inventive as the arts you seek to undo. These pictures" — he indicated a few of them as he swept past — "give a fair representation of what happens to those who suffer, for instance, the Cruciatus Curse" — he waved a hand toward a witch who was clearly shrieking in agony — "feel the Dementor's Kiss" — a wizard lying huddled and blank-eyed, slumped against a wall — "or provoke the aggression of the Inferius" — a bloody mass upon the ground.

"Has an Inferius been seen, then?" asked a Gryffindor in a high-pitched voice. "Is it definite, is he using them?"

"The Dark Lord has used Inferi in the past," said Snape, "which means you would be well-advised to assume he might use them again. Now . . ."

He set off again around the other side of the classroom toward his desk, and again, they watched him as he walked, his dark robes billowing behind him.

". . . you are, I believe, complete novices in the use of nonverbal spells. What is the advantage of a nonverbal spell?"

A few hands went up. Snape took his time looking around at everybody, giving time for late entries; he even glanced at Quinn, who hadn't raised his hand, before saying curtly, "Mr. Kotler, please tell."

"Your adversary has no warning about what kind of magic you're about to perform, which gives you a split-second advantage."

"A Ravenclaw answer. . . copied almost word for word from The Standard Book of Spells," said Snape dismissively (some Gryffindors sniggered), "but correct in essentials. Yes, those who progress to using magic without shouting incantations gain an element of surprise in their spell-casting. Not all wizards can do this, of course; it is a question of concentration and mind power which some" — his gaze lingered maliciously upon the Gryffindors who had sniggered — "lack."

The Gryffindors went deadly silent as the Ravenclaws straightened in vindication, only to be brought down by Snape the very next second.

"Bookish knowledge will not work one bit without practical experience," said Snape with a grave eye.

"You will now divide," Snape went on, "into pairs. One partner will attempt to jinx the other without speaking. The other will attempt to repel the jinx in equal silence. Carry on."

Although Snape did not know it, Quinn had taught at least one-third of the class (everyone who had been a member of the D.A.) how to perform a Shield Charm the previous year. However, except for a couple, none of them had ever cast the charm without speaking. A reasonable amount of cheating ensued; many people were merely whispering the incantation instead of saying it aloud. Snape among them as they practiced, looking just as much like an overgrown bat as ever, lingering to watch a pair perform the task and see them fail as they couldn't cheat under his dull gaze.

He arrived at Eddie and Quinn's pair as the two exchanged spells in total silence. Eddie Carmichael, the eternal challenger, had scoured the books for dueling advantage against Quinn, and he had earlier in his string of losses had found about nonverbal casting, so the task was nothing unusual for him, second nature even. He sent a potent hex at Quinn, who repelled it down to the ground.

Snape observed closer and saw how Eddie would slightly change the aim of the hex every time, but Quinn would repel it down to the same spot on the floor. He gazed at the two Ravenclaws who had made a game of his task, and while their feat would have earned them twenty points each for Ravenclaw from any reasonable Professor, but which Snape ignored and walked away.

A couple steps away, Snape turned towards and whipped out his wand so fast that Eddie and Quinn reacted instinctively; two Shield Charms manifested just in time to stop two Banishing Charms. Eddie skidded on his feet while Quinn's front foot stepped back to become his back foot.

By the time the whole class turned and looked, the exchange was over, and Snape had put his wand back into his robes. Snape walked away to stalk another pair.

". . . Oh, come on, that was at least worth five Snape points," said Eddie, throwing up his hands.

.

- (Scene Break) -

.

Unlike the Defense Against The Dark Arts, only a dozen people had been able to take up Potions in the sixth year — four Slytherins, two Hufflepuffs, two Gryffindor, and four Ravenclaws, out of which two of them were Quinn and Marcus (Eddie had chosen to forgo Potions as it held no importance to his future goals.) The low number was conventional as Potions had the highest jump after the fifth year and had the steepest learning curve. Moreover, the baby population had taken a hit during the war and only boomed after Voldemort's defeat, so the class size had been small for a decade. And Snape acting like a guard, had just served to drive the numbers lower.

The dozen people stood out on the dungeon floor of Hogwarts, waiting for the class to start. The dungeon door opened, and Slughorn's belly preceded him out of the door. As they filed into the room, his great walrus mustache curved above his beaming mouth, and he greeted Quinn with particular enthusiasm.

The dungeon was, most unusually, already full of vapors and odd smells. The students sniffed interestedly as they passed large, bubbling cauldrons.

Quinn leaned near Marcus and whispered, "My workshop has an amazing ward system that would eliminate all spells at a single command of mine."

Marcus glanced at him and put on a 'that's cool' face while inwardly finding cute how Quinn has proud comparing his workshop to a Potions classroom.

The four Slytherins took a workstation together, as did the four Ravenclaws, leaving the Hufflepuff and Gryffindor to share one together.

Now then, now then, now then," said Slughorn, whose massive outline was quivering through the many shimmering vapors. "Scales out, everyone, and potion kits, and don't forget your copies of Advanced Potion-Making. . . ."

"Now then," said Slughorn, returning to the front of the class and inflating his already bulging chest so that the buttons on his waistcoat threatened to burst off, "I've prepared a few potions for you to have a look at, just out of interest, you know. These are the kind of things you ought to be able to do after completing your NEWTs. You ought to have heard of them, even if you haven't made them yet. Does anyone tell me what this one is?"

He indicated the cauldron nearest the Slytherin table. Others raised them slightly in their seats and saw what looked like plain water boiling away inside it.

Quinn looked around, and there were no hands raised, which meant he was clear to answer the question — he only answered when no one had the answer. He raised his hand; Slughorn pointed at him.

"It's Veritaserum, a colorless, odorless potion that forces the drinker to tell the truth," said Quinn, having brewed and used the potion on certain natural Legilimens.

"Very good, very good!" said Slughorn happily. "It is Veritaserum - a Truth Potion so powerful that three drops would have you spilling your innermost secrets for this entire class to hear. Now, the use of this potion is controlled by stringent Ministry guidelines, so don't go brewing it on your own for your personal use — if someone finds out, you go straight to Azkaban."

"Now," he continued, pointing at the cauldron nearest the Ravenclaw table, "this one here is pretty well known. . . . Featured in a few Ministry leaflets lately too . . . Who can tell me which is this one?"

Once again, Quinn looked around and saw that no one had recognized the slow-bubbling, mudlike substance in the second cauldron, so he raised his hand — this sort of thing happened a lot when the class studied a new topic, and that was when Quinn did his portion of class participation.

"It's the Polyjuice Potion."

"Excellent, excellent! Now, this one here . . ." Slughorn pointed at the third and last cauldron that bubbled with a lime-green potion, glowing in fluorescent light. It looked ominous, almost eerie, yet there was a strange vigor as if the potion wanted to burst out of the cauldron like a raging flood.

"Essence of Insanity," said Quinn, his eyes reflecting the green.

"It is indeed. It seems almost foolish to ask," said Slughorn, who was looking mightily impressed, "but I assume you know what it does?"

"A dose from the potion can cause the drinker to act irrationally for a month — they might act like insane people. . . or their inhibitions lower to the point where they don't hold back any desires," Quinn then whispered in a voice not audible to anyone but him, "complete annihilation of the ego, leaving id in charge."

"Quite right! You recognized it, I suppose, by its distinctive glowing shade of green?"

"And the steam rising in characteristic puffs," said Quinn plainly.

"Fabulous, Quinn! Take thirty well-earned points for Ravenclaw," said Slughorn genially. "As expected from the best in the year!"

"And now," said Slughorn, "it is time for us to start work. Today we are going to work with. . . ."

"Quinn, is something wrong?" asked Marcus, looking at Quinn, who seemed subdued after answering the questions.

"It's nothing. . . I just don't like Essence of Insanity," said Quinn. "I have read about what can do to a person, and well, let's just say they aren't pleasant." He couldn't say that the potion reminded him of a hell he had personally experienced.

Slughorn's assignment was the Exstimulo Potion, which was a magic restoring potion after the core was depleted. It was an emergency potion that left severe side effects if taken repeatedly or in a wrong dose, but it would make a person feel like they were drowning with magic when used correctly.

Everyone started to brew the potions. There was a scraping as everyone drew their cauldrons toward them and some loud clunks as people began adding weights to their scales, but nobody spoke. The concentration within the room was almost tangible. Those here were serious about studying potions.

Everyone kept glancing around at what the rest of the class was doing; this was both an advantage and a disadvantage of Potions, that it was hard to keep your work private. But Quinn kept to himself, brewing his potion at his own pace, without paying attention to what the others were doing.

Within minutes, the whole place was full of bluish steam. Everyone was either was attending to their cauldrons or had their heads buried in their books.

Slughorn glanced at everyone, satisfied with this batch of students. Even though they were rough around the edges, he could see the potential and drive. His eyes went to Quinn, and he noticed something different from others. While everyone was fussing over their potions, Quinn was cleaning his workstation while keeping an eye on his potion — it was a simple sign of a disciplined and practiced potioneer.

"And time's. . . up!" called Slughorn. "Stop stirring, please!"

Slughorn moved slowly among the tables, peering into cauldrons. He made no comment but occasionally gave the potions a stir or a sniff. At last, he reached the table where the Ravenclaws were sitting. He gave an approving nod to Marcus' brew. Then he Quinn's, and a look of incredulous delight spread over his face.

"The clear best!" he cried to the dungeon. "Excellent, excellent, Quinn! Good lord, now that's one potent brew, Quinn! That will make a person feeling like a traveler in a desert see the paradise."

Quinn bowed with a polite smile. Unlike Harry Potter, he didn't need a 'Half-Blood Prince's Potion Book' — he was the damn book. And the 'Half-Blood Prince,' that person didn't have anything on him.

In a brew-off, he would crush 'Half-Blood Prince,' who was suffering from Eighth-Grade Syndrome.

.

-*-*-*-*-*-

.

Quinn West - MC - I am simply superior.

Severus Snape - Half-Bood Snape - Somehow feels like his honor has been challenged.

Horace Slughorn - Potions Professor - Only had one Felix Felicis and chose to go with a class(sixth-year) with more(quantity) of influential children.

Eddie Carmichael - Aiming to become Pro-Athlete - Pretty good with a wand.

Marcus Belby - One of the Potion 12 - Knows Quinn pretty well.

FictionOnlyReader - Author - "Sukinako Ga Megane Wo Wasureta," suggested manga - Warning: Diabetes Inducing, keep Insulin nearby.

.

-*-*-*-*-*-

.

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.

The link is in the synopsis!


CREATORS' THOUGHTS
FictionOnlyReader FictionOnlyReader

Just like always,

Review, comment, add to the library, and share this fic.

Thx

Link To Discord

https://discord.gg/w5dJ82SfMr

Load failed, please RETRY

Weekly Power Status

Batch unlock chapters

Table of Contents

Display Options

Background

Font

Size

Chapter comments

Write a review Reading Status: C275
Fail to post. Please try again
  • Writing Quality
  • Stability of Updates
  • Story Development
  • Character Design
  • World Background

The total score 0.0

Review posted successfully! Read more reviews
Vote with Power Stone
Rank 200+ Power Ranking
Stone 72 Power Stone
Report inappropriate content
error Tip

Report abuse

Paragraph comments

Login

tip Paragraph comment

Paragraph comment feature is now on the Web! Move mouse over any paragraph and click the icon to add your comment.

Also, you can always turn it off/on in Settings.

GOT IT