The advent of December shifted the weather from the damp chill that dominated the Hogwarts grounds to a more dry frost that blanketed the Highlands of Scotland. Madam Pomfrey spent her days busy brewing Pepper-up Potion and feeding them to the staff and students with cold, leaving them smoking at ears for several hours afterward. Ron Weasley, who had kicked his blanket off the previous night, was seen with steam pouring from under his vivid hair, giving the impression that his whole head was on fire.
Snowflakes every size imaginable descended upon the grounds, visible from the castle windows for days on end; the lake's surface froze, only to be cracked by the Kraken, the flower beds turned into muddy streams, and Hagrid's pumpkins swelled to the size of garden sheds. Eddie's enthusiasm, as the Ravenclaw Quidditch Captain, however, was not avalanched by the snow, which was why the Ravenclaw was regularly found flying in low visibility and running through with snow swallowing their ankles.
"Yeah, that must suck," Quinn cackled as he watched the Ravenclaw Quidditch Team firsthand, witnessing an elevated practice program not seen in Hogwarts since the glory day of Gryffindor Taskmaster Oliver Wood.
He turned away and continued along the deserted corridor when he came across somebody who looked as though they didn't have a shred of worry in their life. . . death. . . unlife. Fat Friar, the ghost of Hufflepuff Tower, was staring blankly out of a window with listless eyes with his translucent ghostly body hanging eerily still in the air.
"Hello, Friar," said Quinn.
"Oh, Quinn, hello, hello," said Friar, his body gaining some sense of motion, resuming him from the state of unnatural pause. He wore a plain, darb religious cleric robe with a braided rope going around his waist; he had a wooden mug with two steel bands. Quinn could see right through him to the overcast sky and persistent snowfall outside.
"You look lost in thought, Friar," said Quinn. "The weather is indeed one of intro- and retrospection."
"The weather is truly one that unearths out the memories," said Friar, raising his mug to take a sip of a ghostly drink. "It also colors them in its melancholy."
In spite of his airy tone, there was a look of great bitterness on his face.
"The month of December does only turn jolly in the week of Christmas," said Quinn, staring intently at Friar.
The bright soul, hiding behind the shield plagued with pulsing veins in the color-tainted white space, thrummed with magic, turning brighter and gaining a shade of golden color. And Quinn's eyes, the window to his soul reflected that golden sheen as he observed the ghost in front of him.
It was different, he thought. The comparison between a genuine soul — his own soul — and a ghost was quite different. The ghost's spirit felt faded, incomplete, shallow, worn down, and. . . chained. While he couldn't see it, there was a crystal clear sense of Friar's ethereal spirit being anchored down to the mortal plane — and for once, Quinn could feel emotion from the ghost—
Quinn's eyes widened as his pupils narrowed, his entire body felt a chill different from the winter or the Icy Vault as the previously nowhere to be seen emotion mixed with ghostly magic — influencing it, amplifying it, supporting Friar's existence. There was sorrow, regret, unwillingness, self-hatred, dullness, weariness. . . all hitting him in waves more powerful than even — he hadn't felt emotion this strong. . . ever. Not a single person from whom Quinn had felt emotion from had ever emanated emotion potent than Friar was doing now.
He hadn't even felt emotion this strong while casting his gigantic and potent Patronus or while standing in the Room of Requirement with dozens of people channeling emotion to release dozens of Patronus. But here it was, a single entity with more emotional density and quantity than ever experienced.
A sound in his ears brought Quinn's attention away from Friar. He glanced down at his chest when he could hear the thumping beat of his own heart. He gulped and immediately cut the magic to his soul, and instantly, the overwhelming wave of negative emotions vanished, lifting the claustrophobic weight of his body. He became conscious of the cold sweat sticking his inner vest to his back.
'That was. . . .' Quinn didn't have a word for his first time looking at a ghost's spirit using soul magic.
But at the same time, it made sense. Ghosts weren't genuine souls but imprints of souls possessing magic. Impressions of people who had refused to peacefully pass away because of unfinished business", whether in the form of fear, guilt, regrets or overt attachment to the material plane, refusing to move on to the next stage. . . continuously not wanting to pass away while sometime later, constantly regretting their decision to return to the mortal plane, to never be able to end their existence.
Friar, a ghost close to a thousand years in age, had spent every second of that harrowing time among the living, seeing them enjoy their lives in the daytime while spending time along during nights without being able to sleep for a single second.
'Accumulated emotions developed over a millennium,' thought Quinn with his imagination not able to capture what must Friar feel at his worst days if it was so horrifying looking from the outside.
"I do look forward to Christmas," said Friar, smiling brightly, showing his ghostly teeth. ". . . Quinn? Are you alright? You look pale."
Quinn took a deep breath and let out a shaky one before speaking. "I am alright, Friar, thank you for asking. . .
It's good that I met you here; I need to have a word with you."
"Oh, what can I do for you?" asked Friar, floating down to Quinn's eye level.
"I think it's time to call the Council of Ghosts for a meeting," said Quinn, a serious glint in his eyes. "We need to talk about the Cursed Vaults."
.
- (Scene Break) -
.
The Council of Ghosts was the group of ghosts who led the ghost population in Hogwarts. They were the ones who decided who would haunt what part of the castle, what were the common areas. . . even ghosts demanded some privacy. They were the ones who dealt punishment if a ghost misbehaved, organized deathday parties, among other ghostly organizational duties.
The members of the elite group of Hogwarts ghosts were—
"Why are we called here? If it is nothing of importance, I would like to return to the Ravenclaw Tower," said the beautiful woman with waist-length hair, dressed in a floor-length cloak, carrying herself with pride with a haughty expression — Helena Ravenclaw, the ghost of the Ravenclaw Tower
"Oh, don't be like that, Helena," said the upbeat man with a charming smile. He wore a dashing, plumed hat on his long curly hair and a tunic with a ruff, which concealed the fact that his neck was almost completely severed — Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington, the ghost of the Gryffindor Tower.
". . ." The ghost, paler than the others, didn't say anything, staying silent, looking at the table between them with a dark gaze. He had wide, staring, black eyes and a gaunt face. He dressed in robes covered in silver bloodstains and carried chains in a final act of penitence — Bloody Baron, the murderer of Helena Ravenclaw, and the ghost of the Slytherin Dungeons.
"The meeting is of importance," said the last member of the Council of Ghosts, the ghost with a soft smile, bowl-cut hair, and mild nature — Fat Friar, the ghost of the Hufflepuff Dungeons. He pointed at Quinn, the only living person around the round table. "Quinn has something of great importance to talk about."
Helena glanced at Quinn before looking without speaking. She, however, didn't leave.
Friar smiled, turned to Quinn, and gestured for him to start.
Quinn nodded. "I would like to thank the Council of Ghosts, all four of you, to gather here on my request. I have called for this meeting so that we can discuss the Cursed Vaults."
The Council of Ghosts was also in charge of deciding the Challenger, the one allowed to challenge the dangerous Cursed Vaults. For centuries they had sent challengers to the vault — not one was able to make it past the first one, the Icy Vault—
Not until Quinn arrived. Not only did he make it past the first one, but he also made it to the last one and walked out with various tantalizing rewards. He had sated their curiosity of the mysterious vaults where they couldn't traverse. Quinn West had crushed every past Challengers' performance by such overwhelming margins that others had lost the right to hold the title.
"First, I would like to ask if all of you would be selecting Challengers after me?" asked Quinna and further explained when he saw their confused expression. "I have told you all about the Cursed Vaults, everything you would like to know, which was your motive behind sending people into the vaults — so I would like to know if you'd continue to issue the Cursed Vaults challenges?"
The ghosts exchanged looks with each other. In their long 'dead' lives, they had learned to space out the interesting discussions. As such, they hadn't breached the topic of Cursed Vaults yet.
"Why does it matter to you?" asked Bloody Baron, his voice the deepest Quinn had ever heard.
"I have no opposition to continuing the Cursed Vault challenges, there's a lot to learn in there, but if you're going to continue, I think it's my responsibility to ensure the safety of the future generations of Challengers," said Quinn.
The dangers involved in the Cursed Vaults were immense. Something Quinn thought would be too much for a student, even if they were as talented as Dumbledore and Voldemort while in school, so it was imperative that some measures be put in place to protect them and at least save their lives.
"And how are you going to do that?" asked Helena, skepticism in her voice. "Challengers come with decades in between them. How are you going to secure their safety?"
"For one, we can alter the order of the Cursed Vaults," said Quinn. "I have experienced every vault, so I first hand know that the order in which I cleared the vaults didn't have an incremental increase in difficulty. Not even close. And I understand why it was so— none of you actually the actual contents of the vaults, so even your most responsible judgment wasn't enough. But now we know the contents of the vaults. . . so we can change the order to make it more balanced."
Quinn had felt more than once the mismatch between the Cursed Vaults. He had faced problems with all of them, but some of the problems were much graver than others.
"What's the order you suggest?" asked Nearly Headless Nick. "Do you have one in mind? We will keep that order in mind the next time we choose the Challenger."
"I have one in mind, and I hope you'd go with this one," Quinn said. "I would like the Architect's Vault, the current fifth vault, to become the first vault. It's the one with the least amount of danger — only one part of the vault presents a life-threatening danger, which can be prevented with simple observation, planning, and a moderate amount of power."
Only the tile grid with projectiles presented a danger. The Ring Finding, Vault Lock room, and the Material Cube rooms were pure-skill-based.
"The only other problem with the Architect's Vault is that you can be locked into the vault with no exit in the first room, but I think anyone with a decent amount of skill — who can solve the first set of mechanisms would be able to complete the rest with patience and time," finished Quinn.
"The next one?" asked Friar.
"The second would be the Aquatic Vault," Quinn said without missing a beat. "I would like the Aquatic Vault to be a point at which the Challenger would give up and return to their normal lives. And the Kraken would ensure that — it's powerful, cares about the students, but at the same time won't let someone get into the vault without a fight."
He, himself, only had 'semi-tricked' the Kraken to get into the Aquatic Vault. He wasn't the Kraken's match, at least the first time around, and he counted the Kraken's size and strength to dissuade anyone from any further attempt.
"Moreover, the teleportation system in the Aquatic Vault ensures safety, which is why I set it on number two. I was conflicted between the Aquatic Vault and the Architect's Vault order, but decided that the Architect's Vault should be put first because of the educational value of its first two rooms."
The ghosts might not be considering the Challenger's progress, but Quinn cared about it. If a Challenger was to accept, then Quinn wanted them to at least gain practice of Earth magic and Transmutation before they decide to quit.
"We will keep that mind," said Frair. "What do you suggest be the third in order."
"The Underground Vault. . . I want that to be the third and the Icy Vault to be the fourth in line," said Quinn before nodding — he was happy with his choice.
"Wouldn't the vault with the ice be less dangerous than in the Forbidden Forest?" asked Helena frowning.
"In a way, yes," Quinn nodded, agreeing with Helena. "But, the Forbidden Forest holds a certain image in Hogwarts students' hearts. The true stories of people disappearing into the forest without returning ever are well known. . . so I'm hoping that the Challenger won't go inside.
Furthermore, the Centaurs will know intruders in their territory, and they will also try to stop the Challenger from continuing forward, which, in a way, makes it much safer for the Challenger."
The Darkness of the Forbidden Forest was house to species capable of tearing apart humans without even trying. If it was just a single species, then it wouldn't be a problem, but all of them together, one after another, would make the task exponentially tricky — especially if the Challenger wasn't capable of hiding like Quinn.
"The reason I have put the Icy Vault on fourth is because of the protection magic," Quinn scratched his shoulder with a sigh. "Let's say someone found a way to keep themselves sufficiently warm in the Icy Vault, but that doesn't mean they would completely escape the cold— even know, after so many years, I would feel a cool chill while in there.
My problem is that in that cold, the mental capability would deteriorate. . . if that does happen, which I think will happen, as things rarely go perfectly. When that happens, the control of magic could go astray, and then. . . it would take seconds for a person to die from the sheer cold that leaks out of the defensive containment mechanism that guards the Absolute Zero."
His memory of almost dying inside the Icy Vault was quite fresh. If it wasn't his accidental magic protecting him, he would have been long dead in his second year.
"That leaves what you call the Sin Vault as the last one," said Nearly Headless Nick. "The one that made you lose your magic."
The information about Quinn's struggles was shared between the Council of Ghosts.
"Yes, the Sin Vault is to be placed at the last," Quinn's stern voice surprised the ghosts. "I would say that you remove it from the challenges, but if you don't, then make sure to tell them that it's hazardous, and if they get into the vault, they would be dead, and they won't even know it."
«I HATE THE SIN VAULT!!!»
"I will make this clear, so there is no confusion. I don't want people going in there. I wish it never existed, I abhor it, and it's the vilest that ever exited!"
Quinn slammed his fist on the table, and it shook, sending an echo throughout the empty dungeon room. For a few moments, only Quinn's labored breathing was audible in the room, with the ghosts watching him in stunned silence.
". . . My apologies. I let my emotions get the best of me," said Quinn, clenching his fists and enabling his Occlumency to dull his emotions a bit, which was another problem to do when the emotions came from the soul side of things.
"Are you alright, Quinn?" asked Friar.
"Yes, sorry for worrying," said Quinn and decided to change the topic.
"I would also like to talk about something else. . ." He smiled, "I would like to . . . ."
.
-*-*-*-*-*-
.
Quinn West - MC - Let's switch things up.
Fat Friar - Hufflepuff - Jolly Ambivert
Helena Ravenclaw - Ravenclaw - Haughty Introvert.
Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington - Gryffindor - Upbeat Extrovert.
Bloody Baron - Slytherin - No.
FictionOnlyReader - Author - This won't be continuing in the . So about the things. . . you know if you know. I would break it later on.
The advent of December shifted the weather from the damp chill that dominated the Hogwarts grounds to a more dry frost that blanketed the Highlands of Scotland. Madam Pomfrey spent her days busy brewing Pepper-up Potion and feeding them to the staff and students with cold, leaving them smoking at ears for several hours afterward. Ron Weasley, who had kicked his blanket off the previous night, was seen with steam pouring from under his vivid hair, giving the impression that his whole head was on fire.
Snowflakes every size imaginable descended upon the grounds, visible from the castle windows for days on end; the lake's surface froze, only to be cracked by the Kraken, the flower beds turned into muddy streams, and Hagrid's pumpkins swelled to the size of garden sheds. Eddie's enthusiasm, as the Ravenclaw Quidditch Captain, however, was not avalanched by the snow, which was why the Ravenclaw was regularly found flying in low visibility and running through with snow swallowing their ankles.
"Yeah, that must suck," Quinn cackled as he watched the Ravenclaw Quidditch Team firsthand, witnessing an elevated practice program not seen in Hogwarts since the glory day of Gryffindor Taskmaster Oliver Wood.
He turned away and continued along the deserted corridor when he came across somebody who looked as though they didn't have a shred of worry in their life. . . death. . . unlife. Fat Friar, the ghost of Hufflepuff Tower, was staring blankly out of a window with listless eyes with his translucent ghostly body hanging eerily still in the air.
"Hello, Friar," said Quinn.
"Oh, Quinn, hello, hello," said Friar, his body gaining some sense of motion, resuming him from the state of unnatural pause. He wore a plain, darb religious cleric robe with a braided rope going around his waist; he had a wooden mug with two steel bands. Quinn could see right through him to the overcast sky and persistent snowfall outside.
"You look lost in thought, Friar," said Quinn. "The weather is indeed one of intro- and retrospection."
"The weather is truly one that unearths out the memories," said Friar, raising his mug to take a sip of a ghostly drink. "It also colors them in its melancholy."
In spite of his airy tone, there was a look of great bitterness on his face.
"The month of December does only turn jolly in the week of Christmas," said Quinn, staring intently at Friar.
The bright soul, hiding behind the shield plagued with pulsing veins in the color-tainted white space, thrummed with magic, turning brighter and gaining a shade of golden color. And Quinn's eyes, the window to his soul reflected that golden sheen as he observed the ghost in front of him.
It was different, he thought. The comparison between a genuine soul — his own soul — and a ghost was quite different. The ghost's spirit felt faded, incomplete, shallow, worn down, and. . . chained. While he couldn't see it, there was a crystal clear sense of Friar's ethereal spirit being anchored down to the mortal plane — and for once, Quinn could feel emotion from the ghost—
Quinn's eyes widened as his pupils narrowed, his entire body felt a chill different from the winter or the Icy Vault as the previously nowhere to be seen emotion mixed with ghostly magic — influencing it, amplifying it, supporting Friar's existence. There was sorrow, regret, unwillingness, self-hatred, dullness, weariness. . . all hitting him in waves more powerful than even — he hadn't felt emotion this strong. . . ever. Not a single person from whom Quinn had felt emotion from had ever emanated emotion potent than Friar was doing now.
He hadn't even felt emotion this strong while casting his gigantic and potent Patronus or while standing in the Room of Requirement with dozens of people channeling emotion to release dozens of Patronus. But here it was, a single entity with more emotional density and quantity than ever experienced.
A sound in his ears brought Quinn's attention away from Friar. He glanced down at his chest when he could hear the thumping beat of his own heart. He gulped and immediately cut the magic to his soul, and instantly, the overwhelming wave of negative emotions vanished, lifting the claustrophobic weight of his body. He became conscious of the cold sweat sticking his inner vest to his back.
'That was. . . .' Quinn didn't have a word for his first time looking at a ghost's spirit using soul magic.
But at the same time, it made sense. Ghosts weren't genuine souls but imprints of souls possessing magic. Impressions of people who had refused to peacefully pass away because of unfinished business", whether in the form of fear, guilt, regrets or overt attachment to the material plane, refusing to move on to the next stage. . . continuously not wanting to pass away while sometime later, constantly regretting their decision to return to the mortal plane, to never be able to end their existence.
Friar, a ghost close to a thousand years in age, had spent every second of that harrowing time among the living, seeing them enjoy their lives in the daytime while spending time along during nights without being able to sleep for a single second.
'Accumulated emotions developed over a millennium,' thought Quinn with his imagination not able to capture what must Friar feel at his worst days if it was so horrifying looking from the outside.
"I do look forward to Christmas," said Friar, smiling brightly, showing his ghostly teeth. ". . . Quinn? Are you alright? You look pale."
Quinn took a deep breath and let out a shaky one before speaking. "I am alright, Friar, thank you for asking. . .
It's good that I met you here; I need to have a word with you."
"Oh, what can I do for you?" asked Friar, floating down to Quinn's eye level.
"I think it's time to call the Council of Ghosts for a meeting," said Quinn, a serious glint in his eyes. "We need to talk about the Cursed Vaults."
.
- (Scene Break) -
.
The Council of Ghosts was the group of ghosts who led the ghost population in Hogwarts. They were the ones who decided who would haunt what part of the castle, what were the common areas. . . even ghosts demanded some privacy. They were the ones who dealt punishment if a ghost misbehaved, organized deathday parties, among other ghostly organizational duties.
The members of the elite group of Hogwarts ghosts were—
"Why are we called here? If it is nothing of importance, I would like to return to the Ravenclaw Tower," said the beautiful woman with waist-length hair, dressed in a floor-length cloak, carrying herself with pride with a haughty expression — Helena Ravenclaw, the ghost of the Ravenclaw Tower
"Oh, don't be like that, Helena," said the upbeat man with a charming smile. He wore a dashing, plumed hat on his long curly hair and a tunic with a ruff, which concealed the fact that his neck was almost completely severed — Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington, the ghost of the Gryffindor Tower.
". . ." The ghost, paler than the others, didn't say anything, staying silent, looking at the table between them with a dark gaze. He had wide, staring, black eyes and a gaunt face. He dressed in robes covered in silver bloodstains and carried chains in a final act of penitence — Bloody Baron, the murderer of Helena Ravenclaw, and the ghost of the Slytherin Dungeons.
"The meeting is of importance," said the last member of the Council of Ghosts, the ghost with a soft smile, bowl-cut hair, and mild nature — Fat Friar, the ghost of the Hufflepuff Dungeons. He pointed at Quinn, the only living person around the round table. "Quinn has something of great importance to talk about."
Helena glanced at Quinn before looking without speaking. She, however, didn't leave.
Friar smiled, turned to Quinn, and gestured for him to start.
Quinn nodded. "I would like to thank the Council of Ghosts, all four of you, to gather here on my request. I have called for this meeting so that we can discuss the Cursed Vaults."
The Council of Ghosts was also in charge of deciding the Challenger, the one allowed to challenge the dangerous Cursed Vaults. For centuries they had sent challengers to the vault — not one was able to make it past the first one, the Icy Vault—
Not until Quinn arrived. Not only did he make it past the first one, but he also made it to the last one and walked out with various tantalizing rewards. He had sated their curiosity of the mysterious vaults where they couldn't traverse. Quinn West had crushed every past Challengers' performance by such overwhelming margins that others had lost the right to hold the title.
"First, I would like to ask if all of you would be selecting Challengers after me?" asked Quinna and further explained when he saw their confused expression. "I have told you all about the Cursed Vaults, everything you would like to know, which was your motive behind sending people into the vaults — so I would like to know if you'd continue to issue the Cursed Vaults challenges?"
The ghosts exchanged looks with each other. In their long 'dead' lives, they had learned to space out the interesting discussions. As such, they hadn't breached the topic of Cursed Vaults yet.
"Why does it matter to you?" asked Bloody Baron, his voice the deepest Quinn had ever heard.
"I have no opposition to continuing the Cursed Vault challenges, there's a lot to learn in there, but if you're going to continue, I think it's my responsibility to ensure the safety of the future generations of Challengers," said Quinn.
The dangers involved in the Cursed Vaults were immense. Something Quinn thought would be too much for a student, even if they were as talented as Dumbledore and Voldemort while in school, so it was imperative that some measures be put in place to protect them and at least save their lives.
"And how are you going to do that?" asked Helena, skepticism in her voice. "Challengers come with decades in between them. How are you going to secure their safety?"
"For one, we can alter the order of the Cursed Vaults," said Quinn. "I have experienced every vault, so I first hand know that the order in which I cleared the vaults didn't have an incremental increase in difficulty. Not even close. And I understand why it was so— none of you actually the actual contents of the vaults, so even your most responsible judgment wasn't enough. But now we know the contents of the vaults. . . so we can change the order to make it more balanced."
Quinn had felt more than once the mismatch between the Cursed Vaults. He had faced problems with all of them, but some of the problems were much graver than others.
"What's the order you suggest?" asked Nearly Headless Nick. "Do you have one in mind? We will keep that order in mind the next time we choose the Challenger."
"I have one in mind, and I hope you'd go with this one," Quinn said. "I would like the Architect's Vault, the current fifth vault, to become the first vault. It's the one with the least amount of danger — only one part of the vault presents a life-threatening danger, which can be prevented with simple observation, planning, and a moderate amount of power."
Only the tile grid with projectiles presented a danger. The Ring Finding, Vault Lock room, and the Material Cube rooms were pure-skill-based.
"The only other problem with the Architect's Vault is that you can be locked into the vault with no exit in the first room, but I think anyone with a decent amount of skill — who can solve the first set of mechanisms would be able to complete the rest with patience and time," finished Quinn.
"The next one?" asked Friar.
"The second would be the Aquatic Vault," Quinn said without missing a beat. "I would like the Aquatic Vault to be a point at which the Challenger would give up and return to their normal lives. And the Kraken would ensure that — it's powerful, cares about the students, but at the same time won't let someone get into the vault without a fight."
He, himself, only had 'semi-tricked' the Kraken to get into the Aquatic Vault. He wasn't the Kraken's match, at least the first time around, and he counted the Kraken's size and strength to dissuade anyone from any further attempt.
"Moreover, the teleportation system in the Aquatic Vault ensures safety, which is why I set it on number two. I was conflicted between the Aquatic Vault and the Architect's Vault order, but decided that the Architect's Vault should be put first because of the educational value of its first two rooms."
The ghosts might not be considering the Challenger's progress, but Quinn cared about it. If a Challenger was to accept, then Quinn wanted them to at least gain practice of Earth magic and Transmutation before they decide to quit.
"We will keep that mind," said Frair. "What do you suggest be the third in order."
"The Underground Vault. . . I want that to be the third and the Icy Vault to be the fourth in line," said Quinn before nodding — he was happy with his choice.
"Wouldn't the vault with the ice be less dangerous than in the Forbidden Forest?" asked Helena frowning.
"In a way, yes," Quinn nodded, agreeing with Helena. "But, the Forbidden Forest holds a certain image in Hogwarts students' hearts. The true stories of people disappearing into the forest without returning ever are well known. . . so I'm hoping that the Challenger won't go inside.
Furthermore, the Centaurs will know intruders in their territory, and they will also try to stop the Challenger from continuing forward, which, in a way, makes it much safer for the Challenger."
The Darkness of the Forbidden Forest was house to species capable of tearing apart humans without even trying. If it was just a single species, then it wouldn't be a problem, but all of them together, one after another, would make the task exponentially tricky — especially if the Challenger wasn't capable of hiding like Quinn.
"The reason I have put the Icy Vault on fourth is because of the protection magic," Quinn scratched his shoulder with a sigh. "Let's say someone found a way to keep themselves sufficiently warm in the Icy Vault, but that doesn't mean they would completely escape the cold— even know, after so many years, I would feel a cool chill while in there.
My problem is that in that cold, the mental capability would deteriorate. . . if that does happen, which I think will happen, as things rarely go perfectly. When that happens, the control of magic could go astray, and then. . . it would take seconds for a person to die from the sheer cold that leaks out of the defensive containment mechanism that guards the Absolute Zero."
His memory of almost dying inside the Icy Vault was quite fresh. If it wasn't his accidental magic protecting him, he would have been long dead in his second year.
"That leaves what you call the Sin Vault as the last one," said Nearly Headless Nick. "The one that made you lose your magic."
The information about Quinn's struggles was shared between the Council of Ghosts.
"Yes, the Sin Vault is to be placed at the last," Quinn's stern voice surprised the ghosts. "I would say that you remove it from the challenges, but if you don't, then make sure to tell them that it's hazardous, and if they get into the vault, they would be dead, and they won't even know it."
«I HATE THE SIN VAULT!!!»
"I will make this clear, so there is no confusion. I don't want people going in there. I wish it never existed, I abhor it, and it's the vilest that ever exited!"
Quinn slammed his fist on the table, and it shook, sending an echo throughout the empty dungeon room. For a few moments, only Quinn's labored breathing was audible in the room, with the ghosts watching him in stunned silence.
". . . My apologies. I let my emotions get the best of me," said Quinn, clenching his fists and enabling his Occlumency to dull his emotions a bit, which was another problem to do when the emotions came from the soul side of things.
"Are you alright, Quinn?" asked Friar.
"Yes, sorry for worrying," said Quinn and decided to change the topic.
"I would also like to talk about something else. . ." He smiled, "I would like to . . . ."
.
-*-*-*-*-*-
.
Quinn West - MC - Let's switch things up.
Fat Friar - Hufflepuff - Jolly Ambivert
Helena Ravenclaw - Ravenclaw - Haughty Introvert.
Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington - Gryffindor - Upbeat Extrovert.
Bloody Baron - Slytherin - No.
FictionOnlyReader - Author - This won't be continuing in the . So about the things. . . you know if you know. I would break it later on.
