HP: A Magical Journey-Novel

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The link is also in the synopsis.

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On the Monday morning after the meeting at Hog's Head, Eddie and Marcus headed downstairs from their dormitory together, discussing the correct order of jam and cream on a scone, and not until they were halfway across the sunlit common room did they notice the addition to the room that had already attracted the attention of a small group of people.

A large sign had been affixed to the Ravenclaw notice board, so large that it covered everything else on there — the lists of secondhand spellbooks for sale, the regular reminders of school rules from Argus Filch, the list of new arrivals in the Ravenclaw library, the Quidditch team training schedule, the offers to barter certain Chocolate Frog cards for others, the Weasleys' new advertisement for product testers, the dates of the Hogsmeade weekends, and the lost-and-found notices. The new sign was printed in large black letters, and there was a highly official-looking seal at the bottom beside a neat and curly signature.

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EDUCATIONAL DECREE -> NO. 24

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

The High Inquisitor of Hogwarts

All Student Organizations, Societies, Teams, Groups, and Clubs are henceforth disbanded.

An Organization, Society, Team, Group, or Club is at this moment defined as a regular meeting of three or more students.

Permission to re-form may be sought from the High Inquisitor (Professor Umbridge).

No Student Organization, Society, Team, Group, or Club may exist without the knowledge and approval of the High Inquisitor.

Any student found to have formed, or to belong to, an Organization, Society, Team, Group, or Club that has not been approved by the High Inquisitor will be expelled.

The above is in accordance with Educational Decree Number Twenty- four.

Signed:

Dolores Jane Umbridge

High Inquisitor

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

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Eddie and Marcus read the notice over the heads of some anxious-looking second years.

"Does this mean they're going to shut down the Gobstones Club?" one of them asked his friend.

"I reckon you'll be okay with Gobstones," said Eddie, ruffling a second-year's hair, "I don't suppose Quinn will be happy with this, though, is he?" asked Eddie to Marcus as the second-years scurried away.

Marcus was reading the notice through again. His mind turning with the new injection of information. There were a few implications from this notice.

"No, he will not be happy with this; that much is obvious," said Marcus. "This isn't a coincidence. She knows. . . somehow she found out."

"Someone blabbed?" Eddie guessed and threw a glance around the common room, "I can't see anyone with an infestation of acne. . . and let's face it, we don't know how many of the people who turned up we can trust. . . . Any of them could have run off and told Umbridge . . ."

Eddie, Quinn, and Luna were already made aware of the jinx placed on them when they signed the parchment; of course, it was a courtesy from their best friend. But he didn't remove it for them — they had committed to the study group, they were going to be treated like everyone else.

"Or someone could've been listening in that pub. . . we didn't really get a good look at any of their faces," said Marcus, suggesting another theory.

"My money is on arse-face, Zacharias Smith," said Eddie scoffing, punching his fist into his palm, "man, I'm going to pop his the jinxed acne-face all at once," he shivered, "oh, I can already feel goosebumps." He was convinced that Zacharias Smith was the one who leaked the information.

"I wonder if Quinn has seen this yet?" Marcus said, glancing around.

"It doesn't matter; he will know soon enough."

"You're pretty chill," said Marcus, looking over to Eddie, "I thought you would be more pissed at this."

"Eh, why? We were probably going to do the study group no matter what the situation; this is but a blip in our endeavor."

"You realize she's including Quidditch in this. An Organization, Society, Team. . . team as in Quidditch team."

Eddie's mouth slowly opened as his eyes read upon the notice once more, and as Marcus had said, it was written right there.

"Motherfuc—"

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- (Scene Break) -

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The clicking of a wall clock ticked away in the silent AID office as the owner sat behind his office table, reading the ancient tome written on the life of Stigweard Gragg and, in turn, making his way through the enormous amount of garbage written about the Architect.

"No, I don't want to know about his neighbor's wife's relationship with his other neighbor. . . maybe some other day, not now," mumbled Quinn with a sigh but picked his pen and made notes — one never knew where a code might be hidden. "Surely not in the color of his favorite loincloth. . . Ugh, why would someone add this to a biography!"

But he had no choice to read through this book as the room of the now dubbed Architect's vault didn't provide him much information.

"At least, in the Icy vault, I knew what I had to work towards to succeed," he said, grumbling while flipping a page and marking some notes.

The Icy vault had a mechanism, and just like Architect's vault, he had no idea how both mechanisms worked (he only got to know the working of the Icy vault mechanism after he entered the inner vault room.) But in Icy vault, Quinn had a direction on how to solve the problem — here, he only had a problem (to push the pedestal down) and no way to solve it.

"The pedestal better not be a decoy for the real deal to be hiding somewhere else," he said before again flipping to the next page to start a new chapter in the book.

"The Magical Adventures of Stigweard Gragg. . . hmm, this might be interesting," he said, but his reading was interrupted when he 'sensed' someone outside and looked up. A few seconds later, the door opened, and 'pink' entered the room with Argus Filch holding the door for her.

"You can leave, Argus," said the woman in her sickening voice, and the hunched caretaker left with a bow and a nasty cackle.

He watched as the toad-like woman gazed at his office with hands clasped together in the front and a sickeningly-sweet smile on her face as if she was watching an infant's playroom.

Quinn glanced down at the open pages in front of him, and a sigh escaped from him.

"Afternoon, Madam Umbridge," said Quinn as he gently closed the book and put it away in a drawer with his notes. "To what do we owe the pleasure for you to visit my humble abode."

Umbridge continued to look around his eyes and move from one wall to the glass wall. She raised her hand and touched the glass. . . her fingers curled up into a claw, and her manicured, sharp pink nails dragged down on the surface, but they failed to do damage because of the series of treatments that the glass had gone through.

The woman looked dissatisfied and raised her hand to look at her nails then back at the glass.

"Good afternoon, Mr. West," said Umbridge finally, "I have heard about this club of yours a lot," she reached into her purse and took out a black card, "AID services. . . you have been running this club for quite a few years, and I have heard nothing but promising words about it."

"Thank you," said Quinn nonchalantly.

"But did you not see Educational Decree Number Twenty- four?" she said, moving towards his table step-by-step, "all Student Organizations, Societies, Teams, Groups, and Clubs are henceforth disbanded."

"I did see that, but don't you think it was a bit too aggressive — to shut down every long-standing club, formal or informal?"

"Of course not, my dear," the smile on her face widened, "it's all to improve academics of Hogwarts students — it's for their own good. I'm simply trying to guide the children to grow into functioning part of the society as model citizens."

"But you ever closed the educational clubs — transfiguration, charms, astronomy, and the other ones. Those clubs were a place for students to share, increase, and consolidate their knowledge."

"Nonsense, the ministry-approved taught in the classroom is more than enough," sweetness rolled off from Umbridge's tongue as her tone became one used with little children, "and if the children do think that an organization is indeed beneficial to them, a provision is given for reinstation — they would just need to tell me the benefits."

Quinn picked a parchment on his table and read from it, "Seventeen applications were submitted to you today, and you rejected every single one of them bar one — that one exception being the Slytherin Quidditch Team. . . and out of the sixteen rejections, one of them was Professor Sprouts' outdoor club for extra herbology exploration for the interested ones. . . your provision doesn't seem to make sense, Madam Umbridge."

"The Slytherin Quidditch Team members all have outstanding grades — there wasn't a need to disband them because of their excellent academic performance," Umbridge had reached the table, and as she spoke, she tried to take a look at the parchment in Quinn's hand, but he had held it vertical enough for her not being able to see a single word.

Quinn laughed as he had heard the best joke of the year. "And Ravenclaw Quidditch Team doesn't?" he said, "it took you," — a look at the parchment — "a total of two minutes for you to dismiss the team captain Roger Davies and reject the application. . . . Do you, a Hogwarts graduate, really think that a group of Ravenclaw students would have poor grades, surely not."

Umbridge fixedly stared at the parchment in Quinn's hand.

"Mr. West, what's that parch—"

Quinn cut her off at once and apathetically stared while directly asking what seemed to be a question with an obvious answer.

"Why are you here, Madam Umbridge?" he asked.

"That's Professor Umbridge to you, Mr. West."

"First teach me something, then I will think about it. I'm more willing to address the author of the reference as my Professor than you."

Umbridge's smile twitched a bit, "Detention check for that cheek, Mr. West."

"With pleasure," said Quinn with a shrug, "Give me a time and place, and I will be there."

"Good, at least you're not completely without manners," said Umbridge with a smug smile. "Now, I want to you two close this little playhouse," she sighed, "what were the Professors thinking giving a student complete control over a classroom and allowing him to run this ridiculous charade. There's a reason why Prefects, Headboy, and Headgirls are selected — they'll help their fellow students and not this ridiculousness from you."

Quinn raised a finger and pointed at the Prefect pin on his robe's lapel, "I'm a Prefect if you haven't noticed."

"I'm aware, Mr. West," Umbridge said in a chiding tone, "but you have been wasting your time on this before you were a Prefect — I, in good standing, can't allow for this to continue any longer. You'll return the room key to the caretaker first thing in the morning."

Quinn shook his head to that.

"You can't order me to that," he said and took a roll of parchment from a drawer, "I was granted the permission to use this room and turn it into AID's office from Professor Flitwick. You don't have the authority to shut me down."

Umbridge giggled without opening her mouth, which Quinn thought was quite disturbing.

"You don't have the choice, Mr. West," she smiled, "Education Decree Twenty-four grants me, the High Inquisitor, to dismiss any Student Organizations, Societies, Teams, Groups, and Clubs."

Quinn softly laughed a few chuckles before his face immediately lost all joy in an instant. "You don't have that authority, Madam Umbridge."

Umbridge made a half-confused face mixed. "Did you not hear me, Mr. West? Education Decree Twenty-four—"

"Allows the High Inquisitor to disband Student Organizations, Societies, Teams, Groups, and Clubs," Quinn raised his chin and smiled deeply, "But an Organization, Society, Team, Group, or Club is at this moment defined as a regular meeting of, — Quinn raised three fingers, — "three or more students. . . . and AID," — his three fingers turned to two, — "is a two-person venture," Quinn's smile turned lop-sided, "We don't qualify as an Organization, Society, Team, Group, or Club. . . so as I said — you don't have the authority."

Umbridge's smile turned stiff. The pink-clad woman stilled in her chair as she watched Quinn's smile drop once again into total apathy as he continued to stare at her as if waiting for her to leave.

"I'm the High Inquisitor," she said.

"And your power is over the Professors and from the Education Decrees implemented from the Ministry," said Quinn straightforwardly, "you can't shut AID down because. . . you — don't — have — the — authority."

"You will obey me!" Umbridge's breathing started to quicken as her voice rose shriller and louder.

"You can't make me."

Umbridge's vision started to turn red as she began to shake with fury.

"I'm the Senior Undersecretary to the Minister. YOU WILL OBEY ME!" she was yelling by the end of her sentence.

Quinn once again shook his head in disagreement. "You're on sabbatical. You don't have that authority. Even if you did, you still wouldn't have any power over me. I'm not a criminal or in trouble with the law, after all."

"Detention! Detention! Detention for the entire month!" yelled Umbridge, her voice turning harshly high.

"Get an Education Decree, and then we will talk about shutting me down," said Quinn laughing casually before getting up, "Come on, Madam Umbridge. Let's go and get this over with."

"What?" said Umbridge acidly.

"I was going to your detention punishment," Quinn pointed his fake wand up, and the MLEs dimmed, "but now, I'm going to have them annulled."

"You can't do that," the she-toad scoffed.

"But, I can," Quinn walked to the door and held it open, "come on, let's see who's correct, you or me," he grinned, "or do you think I'm in the right here and your detention was out of malice."

"No! Of course not," said Umbridge harrumphing, "let's go and see this farce over. I want to see what nonsense you're talking about."

"After you," said Quinn, gesturing her to exit first, "I don't feel safe and am worried you'll hex me in the back. Not that I would be able to defend myself — you haven't taught me anything that would allow me to do so."

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In a classroom in the Charms wing of Hogwarts, fifth-year lions and serpents listened to Filius Flitwick, a Master of Charms, and the Charms Professor at Hogwarts as he guided them through the theory behind the Growth Charm — a charm that allowed the user to increase the size of an object.

"Children, please take note as to not confuse the incantation of the Growth Charm for that of the Color Changing Charm — I have seen many students make this particular mistake in their OWLs and lose marks in practicals where losing marks isn't warranted one bit," said Flitwick from his spot behind the teacher's podium, standing on a stack of enlarged books, "and please, I say this time and time again, please don't hesitate about asking me questions and solving any doubts you might have."

There was a loud knock on the door, and before anyone could even turn to look, a shrill voice pierced everyone's year.

"Filius! I would like to talk to you. Would you please step out!"

Every pair of eyes turned to the door to see Umbridge standing at the threshold, arms crossed with foot tapping against the floor, looking absolutely livid.

"Dolores. . . I'm in the middle of a class," said Flitwick sighing, "you can meet me in the office when I'm free. I would like you to leave now; I want to continue teaching."

"This is important!" said Umbridge heatedly.

"I'm sure it can wait," but Flitwick didn't share the sentiment.

Gryffindors and Slytherin watched as Umbridge's face grew red, and just when everyone was about to think that she was about to blow up, another voice from outside the classroom spoke up.

"Let me try," everyone watched as Quinn West came into view, "Professor, may I have a moment of your time. It will only take a minute," he then turned to the class and bowed his head politely, "Hello, everyone, I hope I'm not disturbing your close. Sorry, but I will need the Professor for just a bit."

Faced with the same request once again but from another person who also turned out to be his favorite student, Flitwick jumped down from the stack of books.

"Of course, Quinn," said the half-goblin in his squeaky voice. He turned to his class, "I will be back in a moment; please complete your notes; we will start casting the charm when I return."

As Flitwick, Umbridge, and Quinn went out; inside the classroom, Ron turned to Harry and asked, "What do you think that was about?"

"I have no idea," said the bespectacled Potter.

"Umbridge didn't look happy, that's for sure," said Hermione, but then a thought flashed into her mind, "Quinn didn't tell Umbridge about DA, did he?"

"What rubbish are you talking about. Of course, he didn't," said Ivy in instant denial. "But, I'm curious what they are talking about," she stood up, "I will go listen what's it about."

"Ivy! Wait, don't go!" but Hermione's efforts went unheeded as Ivy sneaked to beside the door, listening to what was going on.

Outside, Flitwick looked up at Quinn and asked, "Now, what's this about?" The half-goblin acted as if he couldn't see Umbridge fuming.

"I'm here to contest an unjust detention," he nudged his chin to Umbridge.

"He lies!" hissed Umbridge, "he refuses to call me Professor even after my countless times asking. My detention is just, and he will follow it!"

"Quinn, is she telling the truth?" asked Flitwick, ignoring the menace to society.

"I did no such thing, Professor Flitwick," said Quinn innocently, "you be the witness of my character, Professor. Have in all my years at Hogwarts ever failed to give respect to the faculty? I have always given respect where it's due," — Quinn faced Umbridge with a hurt expression — "Professor Umbridge, I know that you're angry, but I couldn't just stand still and watch the Educational Decree's integrity be damaged by someone using abusing them. . . . even if that someone is as prestigious as you, the High Inquisitor."

Flitwick's pointed ears twitched at Quinn's words. "Quinn, what do you mean by Education Decree being abused."

"Don't listen to him!" said Umbridge shrieking, "he's lying!"

"Professor Umbridge came into my office saying to shut down AID immediately because it went against Educational Decree Twenty-four, but then I politely pointed out that AID didn't come under the specified definition of Student Organizations, Societies, Teams, Groups, and Clubs. . . but then. . ."

When Quinn trailed off, Flitwick stepped closer and urged.

"Don't be afraid, Quinn. I will not let injustice fall upon you," said the Ravenclaw head of the house.

Quinn 'diffidently' glanced at Umbridge before continuing, "S-She threatened me with her Senior Undersecretary position. I could only bring her here — I'm sorry if I brought you trouble, Professor. . . . I know she's the High Inquisitor."

"You don't need to worry about me, Quinn," said Flitwick, standing taller, "you don't need to worry about me," he frowned towards Umbridge. "Quinn, I believe you. I officially annul your detention; you're free to go."

"You can't do that!" yelled Umbridge.

"I can, and I'm doing it," said Flitwick in a no-nonsense tone, "this detention wasn't given in your class — Any detention assigned outside of a class can be reviewed by Head of House, and I with that authority annul this detention."

"You believe him instead of ME?!"

"Yes, I do. . . I believe my top student of six years who I nominated as a Prefect instead of. . . well, you," Flitwick shrugged, then turned to Quinn, "You can go, Quinn. I will take care of her."

Quinn nodded appreciatively, and as he walked by Umbridge, he sneakily gave her a smirk that only served to infuriate her more.

But before he left, Quinn nonchalantly sneaked into the Charms classroom and stood real close to not one but two eavesdroppers.

"You know, it's not good to listen in on conversations," he smiled, "Ivy, Daphne. . ."

Ivy's eyes widened in surprise, and she hastily turned to see Daphne standing right behind her.

"When! . . how long have you been here?!" said Ivy shocked at Daphne's stealth skills and her failed perception check.

"From the very start," said Daphne rolling her eyes before turning back to Quinn, "Are you alright? It sounded very serious."

"Meh, it's fine," said Quinn off-handedly, "she was trying to throw her weight around; nothing I can't handle."

"Are you sure that was a good move; she will try to make things difficult for you," said Ivy sounding worried.

"Eh, once again nothing I can't handle. . . hmm, but you're right — I might just nip the bud before she becomes extra annoying," said Quinn, seeing the point before looking at both the two girls.

"So, Daphne. Will you be attending the little study group?" he asked.

"Shh!" said Ivy; Umbridge was right outside. "Also, how did you know I asked her?"

"Of course, I know what's going," said Quinn, acting cool and staring deeply into Ivy's eye, "I always know what's going on."

"Astoria must've told him," said Daphne shattering the cool moment. She turned to Ivy and spoke, "Astoria, Tracey, and I will be attending."

"Okay, then you'll have to add your name to the list," said Ivy.

"Ahem, well, I will take a leave before Professor Flitwick comes along," said Quinn clapping his hand, "I need to go back, my break is going to be over soon, and I need to get my book bag from my office. . . I will see you two around."

"Bye-bye," said Ivy while waving her hand and immediately regretted it.

". . . Bye," said Quinn, once again feeling a little confused.

After Quinn left, Ivy turned to Daphne and found the blonde looking at her strangely. She could only avert her eyes and walk away — after all, she was aware of how Daphne felt about Quinn.

That day, the news of the incident spread far and wide in Hogwarts.

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Quinn West - MC - Naw, biatch.

Dolores Umbridge - Pink-toad - She was found shrieking at anything and everything in her path.

Filius Flitwick - Head of House - You ain't touching my fledglings.

FictionOnlyReader - Author - ( . . . )

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The link is in the synopsis!