HP: A Magical Journey

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

[ /fictiononlyreader ]

Thank You

.

-*-*-*-*-*-

.

Cedric Diggory and Victor Krum faced each other in the center of the pitch, staring down at each other — not a word was spoken to each other. The captains stared at each other without blinking — the stare down went too long, but neither were willing to break the eye contact first.

"Well, are you guys ready?"

The voice seemed to be the cue to break the eye contact; they removed their eyes from each other and looked at the source of the voice — standing there was Quinn West, dressed in his royal blue with gold trims, smiling at them.

"Trolling Bogeys are ready," replied Cedric; the man looked abashed as he said it.

"I've to ask, why that name," asked Quinn; he was aware of the name from Daphne's regular reports, but not the reason behind it.

"Your dear friend," sighed Cedric, "Eddie decided that Trolling Bogeys would be a good name for us. . . I got busy with the golden egg, and well, missed the team name meeting."

"Oh, that checks out. . . don't worry, it's a good name, it's a villainous name — those always do good with the crowd," said Quinn, assuring the captain before jutting his chin towards Krum. "Look at Treacherous Barons, now that's one badass name; whose suggestion was it?"

"I did," said Krum.

"Excellent choice," smiled Quinn. "Okay, let's move on and get the game started; tell me the centre position — who're you going to start with?"

At the start of a quidditch game, the three balls (quaffle, bludger, and the snitch) were released, and two players from each team would be right in the centre to contest for the quaffle and bludger.

"We're sending a chaser and beater each," said Krum.

"Two beaters," replied Cedric.

"Noted, I'll relay it to Madam Hooch; get your teams ready for the throw-off; we're starting in a couple of minutes."

. . .

"We're late."

"The game hasn't started; we're right on time."

The older gentleman sighed as he sat down in his seat in the stands, "It's only correct to arrive sometime earlier for any event; arriving early actually —"

"— Arriving early actually gives you time back in your day. You will more than recoup the ten minutes you arrive early in the productivity you gain by being able to catch up and prepare," finished the young woman, completing the saying that she had heard oh so many times. "But this is a quidditch game, grandfather, no use in arriving early when we have reserved seats."

"It's about creating habits, young lady," said George West sitting in simple yet elegant clothing, "only by practicing certain actions regularly would you be able to make them second nature; arriving early is one of those things that you need to want to do on your own."

Lia West didn't reply; she didn't have to — the grandfather-grandchild pair knew that Lia was rarely late for anything; it was only an elder's nature to repeat things to that important advice stuck in their young one's mind.

"Oh, there he's, down on the field," pointed Lia.

George took out a pair of un-tinted sunglasses from his pocket. He wore them before taking a look towards the field. From the glasses, he could see what he would typically see, but after a single tap on the frames' side, the image zoomed; as a result, he could see his grandson's face clearly despite the distance between them.

Lia glanced at her grandfather and saw the sunglasses. "Oh, right, I forgot Quinn sent those to us." Lia also took the pair of her own sunglasses and zoomed-in her vision before looking at her baby brother.

"I can't believe he fit all those runes and charms inside such a thin frame," commented Lia, "the omniocculars on the market look bulky in comparison to these."

"He's getting better," smiled proud granddaddy, "the pocket watch he sent me last month was on another level than the one he sent me last year. It's like he's a craftsman that is improving his craft, growing with every piece."

"Hmm," voiced Lia before placing her hand on George's shoulder, "grandfather, look there — right opposite to us centre row — that's Luna Lovegood."

"Oh, where?. . .The dazed-looking blonde child; is that Luna Lovegood?"

"Yes, that's her."

"Hmm. . . why is she wearing a hat in the shape of a troll?"

. . .

The Wests had insisted that they were seated in nondescript seats, choosing to sit among students to avoid meeting people from their social circles so that they could watch the game in peace by not having to make small talk with literally everyone who had heard of them as initially, they were seated in the VIP section of the stadium booked for high-profile personnel.

"That's the West child down there? He sure has grown."

Lucius Malfoy glanced at the portly little man with rumpled grey hair sitting at his side. He wore a pinstriped suit, scarlet tie, long black traveling cloak, pointed purple boots, and lime green bowler hat. The man was currently leaning forward, squinting his eyes towards the pitch down below.

Lucius glanced towards the pitch, but unlike his companion, he didn't lean and squint; instead, he took out a pair of Galilean binoculars (tiny binoculars on a stick) to use them to look at the pitch.

"Yes, minister, that's Quinn West," replied Lucius, thought the fact that the introduction had just been given a few minutes back went unsaid.

Cornelius Fudge leaned back into his seat and nodded. "I've seen that child a few times at functions during the summer break but never got to talk to him. I should talk to him today after the game; I hear that he organized all of this on his own."

"That's a great idea. I'm sure that the child will be thrilled to meet the minister," replied Lucius, though inside, he doubted that Quinn West would even bat an eye on meeting Fudge.

"Good, good," said Fudge sounding happy.

.

- (Scene Break) -

.

Madam Hooch was refereeing. She stood in the middle of the field, waiting for the two teams, her broom in her hand.

"Now, I want a nice fair game, all of you," she said, once they were all gathered around her.

She held out the golden snitch in front of everyone. "Regular rules for snitch release — thirty seconds before the quaffle and bludgers." She looked at both the seekers: Cedric and Krum, "When either of you catches the snitch, the time will stop, and the positions will reset, and we will once again start with a throw-off."

"Mount your brooms, please."

Madam Hooch gave a loud blast on her silver whistle. Fifteen brooms rose up, high, high into the air.

"Ahem, the brooms have taken off; the game is about to start," Quinn's voice sounded throughout the stadium, "the snitch is out — I repeat the snitch is out. . . you can just see the player rearing to go."

Chaser was the most dangerous position in quidditch as not only they had to keep note of the beaters who were always trying to hurl bludgers at them, they also had to track opposing chasers as they were also coming after them for quaffles and interceptions.

In the pitch's centre, the T. Baron's non-center chaser looked at the T. Bogeys' chaser, and he was taken aback by what he saw.

'Eddie Carmichael, right. . . why is he looking at me like that?' He saw Eddie stare towards them as if he owed Eddie some money, and to be honest, it made him gulp — the look was intense.

Piiii, the whistle sounded startling T. Baron's chaser. The quaffle and bludger were thrown straight, and the second they reached their peak height, just before falling down, the players moved.

"The game is on! — Oh, what's this! Bogeys' beaters; aren't going for the bludger or quaffle! — They are blocking the Baron's player from getting to the balls — It worked! It worked! T. Bogeys' have the quaffle."

T. Bogeys's two beaters slammed right into the T. Barons' center members (chaser and beater) and let the quaffle and bludgers drop down their flight level. The non-center players moved like a swarm of bees towards the chaser and beater, all trying to get a hand on them.

Eddie Carmichael, in his first play of his first official game, dropped down on his broom and zapped towards the quaffle — his hand touched the quaffle first, which he tucked under his arm — stiff-armed T. Bogeys' chaser who tried to take the quaffle back and zoomed past the crowd straight towards the goal hoops.

"Off he goes! Carmichael has the quaffle. What speed! Speed brought to you by Nimbus cooperation and their Nimbus 2001 line — the official broomstick of the league."

Eddie alone flew towards the hoops with his teammates holding back the others. Eddie was already too far away by the time they got open — only the goalie stood his path. No complex thoughts went through Eddie's mind — he had the ball, and it had to go into the hoop, that's it.

The goalie saw Eddie come near him with the quaffle back in his hand, but the second he was within throwing distance, Eddie abruptly pulled straight up, confusing the goalie, and before he knew it, the quaffle went zooming past him, deflecting off from the rim into the hoop.

"Score! Eddie Carmichael has scored the game's first goal and season, with Trolling Bogeys taking the lead. What an exciting start to the game!"

And it seemed genuine as the people in the stands went crazy.

. . .

"My apologies for being late; I, for the life of myself, couldn't find a pair of socks to wear."

The people in the VIP box looked at Albus Dumbledore as he entered with a bright smile on his face, dressed in his colorful, eccentric robes, looking jolly as ever. His bright eyes peeked from behind his half-moon glasses, taking in everyone in the room before finally stepping inside the box.

"What's the score?" he asked as he sat beside the other two heads of the school.

"The game just started; fifty to seventy."

"Oh, Ogden, I didn't know you were coming. How long has it been since you come out of your distillery," smiled Dumbledore towards the owner of Ogden's Old Firewhiskey.

". . . You just saw me in Wizengamot last week," said Ogden.

"Ah, yes! It fell off my mind; how forgetful of me," laughed Dumbledore before once again looking around the VIP box, "speaking of. . . where is George West, I was told he would be attending."

"George West is attending!" exclaimed the minister in his bowler hat, looking around to see if he had missed the man.

"That's what I've been told," said Dumbledore, "but from the looks of it —" the VIP box was already full, "— even if he was here, George West wouldn't have sat here."

"Who told you that he'll be here?"

Dumbledore held back a sigh at the minister's question. Why wouldn't he, the headmaster, be privy about the people coming to his school for a highly organized event.

"You see the student right in front of us — sitting with the professors — Quinn West, he's the organizer, he submitted the guest list."

The organizer, however, cleverly didn't share the seating plan with the headmaster, just the names.

"Then where is he?"

"Hmm, I'm assuming that if he's attending, then he's among the students," guessed Dumbledore — nay, Dumbledore was sure that George West was sitting in the stands.

'Not that I can blame him,' thought Dumbledore as he watched everyone in the VIP box whip out their omniocculars, but they weren't looking at the game but at the stands.

"Oh! It seems the seekers have spotted the snitch."

. . .

Cedric Diggory and Victor Krum zoomed across the pitch, both seekers chasing after the ever-elusive golden snitch.

Seekers were generally the smallest and lightest players on a team and needed both a sharp eye and the ability to fly one- or no-handed — but today, both seekers didn't comply with the archetype.

Cedric Diggory was a tall fellow with a not-so-wiry frame. His body caught too much drag from the wind, causing him to fly slower, just by a fraction, but those fractions were what mattered when one was competing with a fast seeker chasing a faster snitch. With his bulky and stocky build, Victor Krum was the complete opposite of the seeker archetype — too heavy for a seeker. He was already heavier for adult seekers — there wasn't even a need to mention school level.

But for some reason, both of them were still the fastest players on the field.

"Diggory and Krum are hot on the tail of the snitch — Diggory to the front! — Krum is back in the lead! What an intense chase. What do we see here — Krum anticipated the dip from the seeker and has clutched a substantial lead! What's this?! Diggory is gaining speed — will he catch up? — It's late! It's late! Krum has it! The snitch has been caught! T. Baron's have caught the first snitch of the season!!!"

Fireworks shot on cue as T. Barons surrounded Krum as the team circled the stadium, with snitch the held clutched high in Krum's grasp.

.

- (Scene Break) -

.

In the professors/commentators box, the head of houses sat in the front row, just behind Quinn, who sat just behind the railings, to get a clear view of the game.

"Minerva. . . did he really organize all of this?" asked Sprout looking at the new stadium, the animated and colorful banners with the game going in the center of all of the numerous little things that impressed the herbology mistress.

"He did," answered McGonagall distractedly as he craned her neck with her favorite omniocculars set on her eyes. "Yes, dive, dive, dive, yeah!"

Sprout sighed at her colleague's antics — the quidditch nut was in no condition to hold a conversation.

She decided to talk to the "Filius, are you proud —" she saw the half-goblin snicker in amusement as he wrote something off a parchment, "— what're you doing?"

Flitwick looked at Sprout with a toothy grin and showed her the parchment, "I just won 20 galleons on who would reach a hundred points first — I bet on Bogeys which had high odds because Mr. Krum is on Barons, but heh, my hunch was good, now I'm in profit."

Suddenly Quinn turned towards them and gave Flitwick a thumbs up, "Good decision, professor. Bogeys' chasers are on fire today; Do you have something on them today?"

Flitwick slapped his thigh, frustration flashing in his eyes. "I didn't think that Mr. Carmichael would be so good as a chaser — this is his first game, and he had already scored third of Bogeys points. I was actually counting on Mr. Diggory to pull the point total — a miss on my part."

"Haha, don't worry, professor, there are still many, many games remaining you can —" laughed Quinn but suddenly looked back at the field, "— CHASER CRASH Two chasers crashed down into the grass; Carmichael from Bogeys and Bam from Barons — ah, Carmichael is already up and flying! What endurance, I wonder who's his trainer!"

Sprout looked between Quinn and Flitwick in shock. "Y-You're betting! Filius —"

"Loosen up, Pomona. Enjoy the game," grinned Flitwick, "Next time, I'll take you with me; the Weasley twins have a great betting setup; they give great odds — shell some of your galleons on things other than seeds and plants."

Sprout sighed, her eyes going to the fourth head, who was intently watching the game.

'No way. . . ' she thought. "Severus did you —"

"No."

"A-Ah, I see, of course, of course."

"Oh! Diggory has beaten the pro to the snitch! Bogeys have their first snitch of the game! That puts them above the Barons with a great margin! A great offensive team effort by the Trolling Bogeys! What a game we're getting to see brought to you by Blishen's Fireworks."

Smoke works filled the sky as green and black colors of Trolling Bogeys menacingly made their presence known.

Quinn once again turned back to the professors.

"Professor Snape, here you go," he threw a roll of parchment along with a tiny vial towards Snape, who effortlessly caught it, "my personal recipe for smoke sky-shots, what do you think about it?"

Snape stared at the vial with silver liquid for a moment before reading the parchment.

". . . Good enough," was the short response before Snape opened the vial and a small plume of green smoke rose to turn into a shape of a troll, "Better."

Quinn grinned before once again turning back towards the game.

.

- (Scene Break) -

.

Marcus reached the T. Bogeys' locker to meet Eddie and jumped when he heard a loud, frustrated shout.

"How the hell did he catch two snitches in the last twenty minutes! $#@%!!!"

Marcus saw Eddie angrily stuff his gear into his bag while throwing out profanities which from his mouth sounded weirdly melodious.

"Krum was lucky; it popped up right in front of him — all he had to do was reach out to it," said a beater. None of the house beater duos were separated in the team recruitments, with the Hufflepuff duo coming to Trolling Bogeys.

"I know! We f**cking played so well! Ah, that buzzcut of his pisses me off!"

'That pisses him off?' thought Marcus, sometimes he couldn't understand what went through his friend's head.

"We'll win the next game and every coming game," said Diggory, and his tone lacked his usual happy style.

Marcus was about to enter the locker room when Luna, with a troll hat on her head, walked past him and entered the locker room.

"You lost."

"I know! I was there!"

The opening day game ended with plenty of fanfare.

.

-*-*-*-*-*-

.

Quinn West - MC - Plugging sponsors whenever I can.

FictionOnlyReader - Author - Suggest credits. Too many people in this chapter.

.

-*-*-*-*-*-

.

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!