HP: A Magical Journey

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The timeless ticks of the spread-eagle-silhouette novelty wall clock put together by an eccentric Ravenclaw for the place she worked and learned, desiring to powder the room with her flair to make it her own in small ways.

"The water at the lake was quite foamy today," she said, breaking the soft silence with her dreamy voice. "I fear Yorwel season has come early this year."

The nip of Quinn's pen came to a scribbling stop against an order letter to be sent to his ironmonger for a new batch of metals. He searched, but it was the first time he had heard that. He wondered if he should ask about what a Yorwel was?

"Why're Yorwels foaming up the lake?" he asked.

"When they breed, you see," she said, a faraway look in her eyes. "The male emits a —"

"Ah, I remember now, yes, Yorwels," he amended quickly. That look in her eyes was the harrowing signal that he might be pulled into a rabbit hole that would whisk them both him and her to the deepest dusty corners of the library, scouring untouched bookshelves on what would more likely than not turn into a wild goose chase.

The room yet again lulled into a working reticence as Quinn returned to penning his letter while she on the other side to her flipbook of a bizarre concoction of color eating up the pages. Neither had anything to say nor felt the need to fill out that mundane silence.

And if not for the disorder that came knocking on their door, the silence would have flowed to the end of their today.

Before Quinn could even respond to the knocking, the bell chime rang, and in came Umbridge, strutting. Quinn raised his brows on the account that she even bothered to knock. His gaze went behind Umbridge, where Filch stood hunched on the threshold showing his crooked teeth.

"Madam Umbridge," he said in greeting, not bothering to stand. "What in the grand scheme of things led for you to make your way here to this humble dwelling of service and assistance?"

Umbridge squished her brows together, and her strut collapsed.

Quinn smiled patiently, "What I mean is how can I help with you today?"

Umbridge smiled sweetly but Quinn knew he had been successful when he saw the throbbing vein on her forehead.

"Mr. West," Umbridge said, "to answer your question, I'm here today to present you with a gift from the Ministry."

"A gift?" he asked. McGonagall would forsake Quidditch before he would get a gift from Dolores Umbridge.

"Yes, a gift to help — to assist as you put it — with your journey as a student of Hogwarts."

He wondered why she was beating around the bush, trying to be clever as he could judge. It wasn't a successful attempt, he thought. "What that might be?" he asked.

With a smile glistening with joy from the bottom of her heart, Umbridge took out a rolled-up parchment from her punchy pink purse and handed it to him. "A gift to help you, who has been helping others, to show that there's someone who you can count upon when in need of help."

Quinn held back from rolling his eyes as he unravelled the cord tie. He already had those people in his life, and Dolores Umbridge wasn't them, would never be. But the understanding dawned on him the moment his eyes fell upon the printed contents of the parchment.

Umbridge beamed sadistically at the sight of emotion voiding from Quinn's face, knowing that she had finally got him.

"I had that," Umbridge said, referring to the parchment in Quinn's hand, "made a few weeks ago; it took some time to arrive, but it came through today, so here I am to give you the good news personally."

Quinn continued to stare at the parchment in his hand. He knew that it would come. Knowing her, he was sure it would come, but seeing it in his hands was a feeling different than what he had envisioned and prepared for.

"Quinn?"

He tore his eyes away from the parchment and looked up. "It's okay, Luna," he shook his head comfortingly, seeing the worried look on her face. He handed her the parchment; this concerned her as much as it did for him.

Luna received the parchment and immediately looked at it. Her dreamy, idyllic eyes regained a sharp focus the moment she read the contents.

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EDUCATIONAL DECREE -> NO. SEVENTY-SEVEN.

----------- By Order Of -----------

The High Inquisitor of Hogwarts

All extracurricular activities are subject to review by the High Inquisitor.

Signed:

Dolores Jane Umbridge

High Inquisitor

----------- Ministry of Magic -----------

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It was just a single line, a straightforward sentence, but one that left no doubt about its power.

"Luna, can you please give us some room? I will join you shortly."

Luna looked up at Quinn, her brows drawing together, grabbing a fistful of her cardigan and shirt. Quinn smiled assuredly; it was all he could do right now in the current moment.

She silently got up, a different silence from her usual zoned-out silence. Luna turned and glared at Umbridge, who didn't even spare her a glance. She lackadaisically walked to the door, where Filch smiled crookedly at her — to the caretaker, every student was a hateful little runt, no difference. Luna waited for him to get aside, but when he didn't, she roughly shoved him aside with as much force her petite body could muster — to her praise, Filch did flap around his arms to regain his disturbed balance.

"It seems you finally achieved what you failed back then," he said, crossing his hands over his desk. "I assume that you already put AID through the review process, and it was concluded that it failed the review."

Umbridge let out a toe-curling giggle, "As expected of the top student of Hogwarts. And that's exactly why AID failed the review — because of you." Quinn gave her a blank stare, which she took in strides. "We can't have the top student divert their attention and potentially ruin their studies. Especially when you're taking NEWT level courses and at an important junction of your life — didn't I say it before? I'm here to help you."

"Yes, you did," said Quinn and stood up. "I guess it's time to close up."

"Yes, it is," she said with the mirth and gloat flashing on her ruddy complexion. "Argus has come prepared, so all you need to do is hand him the key," at the door, Filch picked up planks of wood, a hammer, and a box of clinking nails from outside of the room, "you can return to retrieve your personal articles later."

"I had imagined this, but never thought I would do it," Quinn took out his fake wand and swung it once. Like a squid spurting ink in water, an inky black diffused in every corner of the room — the deep brown table turned to ash black, the glass wall took on an obsidian tint, vibrant paintings turned to black slates, healthy green plants turned to healthy dark plants — in seconds, every square inch of the room was colored black.

It was the color of death, a shade common at funerals, which Quinn thought fit the situation.

Quinn draped his robe cloak over his arm and looked at a Umbridge with her eyes darting all around the darkroom. "Shall we go?" he asked. Now that this had happened, he had some work to do and wanted to get it quick.

He didn't wait for a response and began walking towards the door when he felt a hand grip on his bicep, making him stop. He looked at the obvious suspect and asked: "Yes?"

"Before we go. I would like to see what's inside."

Quinn followed Umbridge's gaze and saw that she was looking at the black workshop door. He looked down at the shorter woman, and a few seconds passed in silence.

"No."

Umbridge jerked her back at Quinn, her grip tightening around Quinn's arm. "My apologies, but I might have listened incorrectly. Did you just refuse?"

"Yes," Quinn nodded, "you're not going inside."

"I hope you understand what is happening here, Mr. West, but AID is disbanded. I demand —"

He ripped his hand out of her grasp. "I refuse."

Umbridge's hand slowly rose up to her chest as her eyes turned cold and hard. "I order you to open that door right at this moment."

"As I said before and now will repeat — I refuse," said Quinn flatly.

A deafening silence enveloped the room, and mixing with the black surroundings, it descended into a room one would instinctually avoid.

Umbridge turned her chin up at Quinn, and her lips curled up into a plastic smile, "Detention for you, Mr. West, and this time you aren't getting away."

"Be that as it may be, you're not getting through that door," said Quinn — got her!

Umbridge held her wide from her body, and with her chest thrust out, she walked to the workshop door. She took out her wand and was about to cast an unlocking charm when she saw that there wasn't a lock on the door, just a door handle. She grabbed it and tried to open the door but neither push nor pull conceded her entry.

She turned to Quinn and was about to ask when she saw Quinn's blank stare, and her words died in her mouth. She cleared her throat and stood taller, "We'll just have to come here later and employ a forceful method to enter. I am looking forward to finding what you attempt to hide. I hope it's not something illegal."

She was met with silence.

"Well then," Umbridge turned her wrist to look at her watch, "it's already time," she looked up at Quinn, "we'll be starting your month-long detention today and right now."

Quinn shrugged half-heartedly. If she wanted to give him what he needed, he wasn't going to stop her.

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The west corner of the fifth-floor of Hogwarts was traveled to by students when they wanted to visit the AID office and otherwise remained a part of the castle devoid of people because of no active classroom in the vicinity. This was the reason why Quinn was so elated when Flitwick had assigned him the classroom for the office because he knew if AID was successful, then a part of the castle would be landmarked and defined by AID.

So it surprised Umbridge and even Quinn that not even halfway through the west corner, to see an entire crowd of Hogwarts students clogging the entire hallway — there were uniforms accentuated with blue and bronze, those with red and gold, numerous with yellow and black, and even green and silver.

There were ghosts that flew in the air. Even the chaos-agent Peeves the poltergeist was in attendance — uncharacteristically silent under the dead gaze of the Bloody Baron.

Quinn's eyes caught the group of professors standing at the head of the crowd, and in that group, he saw his head of the house, Filius Flitwick, clutching a familiar parchment in his hands. He immediately understood the reason behind this crowd by seeing Luna (flanked by Eddie and Marcus) standing beside the professors.

It brought a broad smile to his face, which he made no effort to hide — they needed to know that everything was fine, especially those who he taught in secret at least once a week. He did his best to communicate that all was well.

"What is this?" said Umbridge, stepping forward. "Why has this crowd gathered here?"

The big man himself, with his colorful robes and long white beard, stepped forward out from the crowd, "We heard that you disbanded AID. Is it true?" said Dumbledore, asking for the group.

"Yes," said Umbridge, still confused why the entire school was gathered here, "I have decided that AID takes too much of Mr. West's time, thus a risk to his academics."

"Is that so," said Dumbledore glancing at Quinn, who stared back at him, the smile still present on his face. He looked back at Umbridge and spoke, "For four years, this being the fifth, Mr. West has operated AID to great success without ever letting his academics slip. In fact as you as his professor must know that he's the brightest of his age. " He pointed at the mob behind him, "This crowd here has gathered here because Mr. West with his work at AID has touched everyone in some form or another — they have received help at his door, no matter how old they are, no matter what houses they belong to — they have never been turned away. For the students, can you also reconsider your decision and reinstate AID?"

Umbridge breathed a resigned sigh, "I'm moved by this show of unity by the school, but at the same time, I feel pity because the support you have gathered is focused on the wrong person."

The entire crowd muttered in confused discussion at her words. What did she mean by focusing on the wrong person?

Flitwick stamped forward, and his lips curled into thin lines, showing teeth, "What are you trying to say by that Dolores?" his voice screech.

"I'm simply trying to state that when I asked Mr. West to show me what is behind a closed door in his 'office,' he refused to comply with orders of both a professor and High Inquisitor, even after I gave him repeated chances to revert his stance, but alas, it was to no change." She glanced behind and stared Quinn down, "He must be hiding something that he's afraid of showing me because he realizes that it's wrong and unethical — and that's why I had to make the difficult decision of giving him detention, which pained me a lot because Mr. West indeed is the brightest of the ones I have taught. That is why I hope that the disbandment of AID would set him on the right path. It's for his own good, or so I think as his professor, concerned for his future."

Quinn continued to smile without a change in expression, and everyone saw. It made many wonder if Quinn was indeed hiding something behind that glass wall of his. No one knew (sans a select few) what resided behind it, and his apparent refusal to reveal was indeed a sign of guilt.

"Mr. West," said Flitwick, "let's go right now and see what's behind the wall. It's okay. I won't let anyone take advantage of you so please be fearless and let's make it clear that you have nothing to hide."

Quinn matched eyes with his head of the house. "Thank you, Professor, but I apologize; I'm not willing to share what's in my workshop."

"Mr. West. . ."

But Quinn shook his head. He had already decided. No matter what happened here, he wasn't going to change his position and keep on course.

Dumbledore said, "Mr. West, are you sure about this?"

"Yes, headmaster, I am sure," said Quinn.

Dumbledore sighed, "I see. . . then there's nothing we can do." There was nothing he could do here without Quinn's cooperation — but there was something he couldn't do. He turned to Umbridge. "Professor Umbridge, I wish you luck in your disciplinary actions and hope whatever you find is harmless. . . personal items that Mr. West isn't comfortable sharing. We would be waiting with bated breaths to see whatever you come up with."

Umbridge stiffened, body and all, only momentarily. She regained composure but couldn't stop her smile from twitching. She hadn't missed the message; Dumbledore's intentions were was as clear as his half-moon spectacles — by asking her to inform him, Dumbledore had declared that she wasn't going to get any assistance from anyone else (other than Filch) — it wasn't a problem for her, a good blasting curse would get the work done, but it was highly humiliating.

"I shall keep you informed, headmaster," she said, her nostrils flaring. "Now, I ask that everyone give us space. It's time Mr. West serves his detention."

The crowd parted like Moses dividing the sea, giving a passage for Umbridge and Quinn to pass.

As Quinn passed, he communicated to some people — he smiled calmly at people he knew; winked to Eddie, Marcus, and Luna; nodded to the Golden Squad, and as he passed by the tail of the crowd, he matched eyes with a distraught Daphne, to her, he mouthed, 'I will be fine,' to assure her that all was well.

Umbridge and Quinn were almost out of earshot of the crowd when a loud shout came from somewhere in the ocean of black-robed students.

"Fucking bitch!"

Umbridge's steps faltered in shock, but she acted she didn't hear and continued to walk, and it would have saved her face if not for the fact she couldn't hear snickering coming from just behind her. She consoled her that in a few minutes, she was going to get her revenge.

"We have arrived," Umbridge said, fighting to keep the itch out of her voice. She opened the door to her office and stared at Quinn.

He once again half-heartedly shrugged and walked into the pink and cat exhibit.

Umbridge entered behind him, her eyes shining with a twisted light as she closed the door behind her.

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Quinn West - MC - Smile & Nod.

Dolores Umbridge - Umbitch - Got him finally.

FictionOnlyReader - Author - I hope I wrote this properly

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