Architect's Mechanism, Cat vs. Toad

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When he stepped across the teal permeable layer, Quinn's shoes stepped on a coarse surface with a grainy texture that gripped the soles of his boots. Quinn briefly took in the room in front of him before turning back — the swirling layer of different shades of layers was still there — he exhaled a breath he didn't know he was holding and turned to the front.

Even with the room bathing in the soft teal light, the room was clearly colored in a darb dark grey, giving it a lifeless ambiance — unlike the 'public' Hogwarts where every wall had a story to it, this room seemed to have been created without a thought of flourish or fanfare — the sheer monotony of the room made Quinn's eyes strain and relax all at the same time. His step echoed in the empty room as he descended down a shallow circular well of stairs and gazed at the surrounding circle of pillars that supported the perfectly circular room's equally dull ceiling.

"Now, what's this?" Quinn's voice echoed along with his steps as he walked around the short, perfectly cylindrical pedestal present right at the room's middle. Like everything in the room, the column-like pedestal was just as the name suggested — a cylinder.

"Is this really from the same person who designed Hogwarts," despite the eccentric parts of the castle, Hogwarts was a beautiful construction of its time.

To this day, the tradition of taking the first years on boats through the lake was because of the castle's architectural beauty that mesmerized the children and stayed them for a very long time — it certainly did with Quinn, who despite having seen a range of different architecture that changed with cultures across the globe in his world tour, had been all but hypnotized when he had set his eyes upon the moonlit castle with a thousand-year history and the ever-more enchanting reflection in the clear lake surface.

He squatted down fully on his knees and felt the base of the cylindrical pillar — specifically, the place from where the pedestal rose up from the floor. The pedestal wasn't part of the floor, but neither was it sitting on the floor — no, the pedestal column came from within the floor, meaning that there was a length of pedestal beneath the surface of the floor.

"Hmm." A thought struck his mind. He straightened his knees with body magic pushing through his muscles — he kicked the floor and launched himself atop the cylinder.

"Now, let's how my hunch pans out." With body magic still coursing through his body, Quinn took a mighty jump, joined his feet, and pushed down hard on the pedestal with his landing.

A slight tremor went down the pedestal as the force generated by Quinn's weight coming down on the pedestal pushed it down into the ground by mere millimeters. At the same instant, Quinn turned his face towards the loud sound of stone being dragged against stone — a part of the wall in the shape of an archway was pushed back a couple of inches. But the very next second, Quinn shifted his feet to maintain balance as the pedestal rose to its original height in an instant, and with the archway merged back into the wall sending a big wave of tremor, causing Quinn to struggle maintaining balance on the narrow pillar.

"A weight-based mechanism," Quinn glanced down on the pillar, "the pillar needs force to be pushed down, which then, will push that section of wall," he gazed at the previously affect spot in the wall, "in the shape of an archway, which I'm guessing is the way to the next section of this vault."

"Well, that's easy enough to solve." Quinn jumped down to the floor and walked to the part of the wall that had shifted. "Why follow the rules when you can break the game."

He drew up his sleeves before placing his palm snugly against the wall where the archway was supposed to be and pushed magic into the small.

「 Transmutation 」

There was no need to push the pedestal into the ground when he could simply excavate the stone in the wall out and see what lay hidden behind the archway.

But it turned out that the Architect wasn't a dunce. The very next moment, Quinn's magic was met by another force — a magical explosion, and Quinn was sent back, tumbling onto the ground on his back.

He groaned with the dull pain spreading through his back and butt." I guess that's why people don't break the rules," he said while grimacing in pain — the stone wall was 'disabled' against transmutation and transfiguration just like the glass in his office, but here, the creator, who Quinn was assuming to be the Architect, had provided with some 'motivation' to not try to re-attempt breaking the rules.

"I get it, I get it. I'll follow the rules," said Quinn as he walked back to the center pedestal. He bowed his head down while closing his eyes and raised his hands above his head; magic flowed out in lumps over lumps.

When he finally looked up, there stood a massive block of conjured steel hanging overhead, gradually rotating. He looked down at the stone pedestal and cracked his neck,

"Time to get down into the ground."

He retreated back up the shallow stairs and peeked from behind the stone pillars.

"3. . . 2. . . 1. . . . go!"

The looming steel cube looming overhead suddenly dropped, and its sheer size buried the thin pedestal within an instant. The entire room quaked, sending waves to every corner of the room, including Quinn, who felt the vibration down to his bones and had hugged the sturdy pillar to not tumble over.

When the dust settled and the room who longer shook, Quinn jogged to the archway.

"Ah damn, really?" What he came across was a flat wall with no signs of an exposed archway in near sight.

Quinn sighed, and the massive conjured steel cube vanished into nothingness and stood in view was the undamaged cylindrical pedestal as if it hadn't hugged the heavy steel block.

"So that failed," he said, but in every failure, there was an opportunity to learn. Since his entry into the vault room, Quinn had noted a few observations.

"The pedestal is connected to the archway and is operated with a weight-based mechanism," he walked to the pedestal and stood with his back leaning against it, "the force generated by my highest jump and factoring in my weight could shift the archway a couple of inches, meaning that the steel cube must have achieved that much. . . . but the mechanism needs a constant force to keep the archway exposed. The steel cube must have pushed the archway back, at least the length that I alone did; I can't be sure of how much over that," he was too busy trying not to fall, "but given that I wasn't able to see it means that the steel's weight wasn't enough to keep the archway open."

He groaned. If the force created by the massive steel cube couldn't push open the archway, then Quinn couldn't see an option that would exceed that. Using an explosion charm or a banishing charm from the ceiling was not an option as it would require him to keep casting magic to keep the archway open.

"Even if I am able to push the archway to reveal whatever hidden path enough for me to slip inside, it's useless if I can't keep it open while I'm in there," he said with a sigh. He had no plans to entomb himself in a wall after the archway closed up.

He had reached a bottleneck in progress.

Quinn spent some more time contemplating the next step but then recalled that it was already well past midnight when he had figured out the Architect's puzzle. So, he decided to call it in and retire for the day.

He gazed around the dull grey room with his hand on his waist. Solving puzzles, struggling to find answers, and standing alone in an unknown, possibly dangerous part of Hogwarts. . . his lips curled up. . . this felt correct. . . this strangely felt like home.

"Yeah, this is going to be yet another fun year," and he couldn't feel more better about it.

Later that night, as Quinn lay in his bed, he gazed up at the teal jewel wrapped around his ring finger; it glowed very faintly, reminding him of the journey he had left in front of him.

"The architect, huh," this was the first time Quinn had a clue about a vault's creator, "the library must've something on him — and I guess I need to look at physical mechanisms in case there's a mechanical aspect to the weight-mechanism. I wonder if. . ." And sleep took him as he trailed off murmuring all the things he wanted to do tomorrow.

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Hufflepuff and Slytherin houses sat in the perfectly set Transfiguration classroom, waiting for the class to start. But unlike the usual thoughts and emotions that went through everyone's mind, today, they were all busy glancing at the corner of the room.

Umbridge and her clipboard were sitting in a corner, staring at her wristwatch with a glint in her eyes.

McGonagall marched into the room without giving the slightest indication that she knew Umbridge was there. The High Inquisitor thinned her lips; McGonagall had arrived in the classroom five minutes before the class — as a teacher was supposed to.

"That will do," she said, and silence fell immediately. "Mr. Nott, kindly come here and hand back the homework — Ms. Jones, please take this box of mice — don't be silly, girl, they won't hurt you — and hand one to each student —"

"Hem, hem," said Umbridge, employing the same silly little cough she had used to interrupt Dumbledore on the first night of term. McGonagall ignored her.

Theodore Nott handed back Draco's essay; Draco took it without looking at him and saw, as he had expected, that his grade was an EE.

"Right then, everyone, listen closely — Tracey Davis, if you do that to the mouse again, I shall put you in detention — most of you have now successfully vanished your snails, and even those who were left with a certain amount of shell have the gist of the spell. Today we shall be —"

"Hem, hem," said Umbridge.

"Yes?" said McGonagall, turning round, her eyebrows so close together they seemed to form one long, severe line.

"I was just wondering, Professor, whether you received my note telling you of the date and time of your inspec —"

"Obviously, I received it, or I would have asked you what you are doing in my classroom," said McGonagall, turning her back firmly on Umbridge. Hufflepuff students exchanged looks of glee. "As I was saying, today we shall be practicing the altogether more difficult vanishment of mice. Now, the Vanishing Spell —"

"Hem, hem."

"I wonder," said McGonagall in cold fury, turning on Umbridge, "how you expect to gain an idea of my usual teaching methods if you continue to interrupt me? You see, I do not generally permit people to talk when I am talking.

Umbridge looked as though she had just been slapped in the face. She did not speak but straightened the parchment on her clipboard and began scribbling furiously. Looking supremely unconcerned, McGonagall addressed the class once more.

"As I was saying, the Vanishing Spell becomes more difficult with the complexity of the animal to be vanished. The snail, as an invertebrate, does not present much of a challenge; the mouse, as a mammal, offers a much greater one. Bigger and more complex animals, including humans, can't be vanished as they present complications that aren't yet solved. This is not, therefore, magic you can accomplish with your mind on your dinner. So — you know the incantation, let me see what you can do . . ."

"McGonagall is angry," Tracey said to Daphne under her voice.

"She is quite angry," replied Daphne. The expression on McGonagall's face might have been stone, but many could feel that she wasn't one bit happy to have a shred of pink in her classroom.

Umbridge did not follow McGonagall around the class as everyone had heard she had done with Trelawney; perhaps she thought that Professor McGonagall would not permit it. She did, however, take many more notes while she sat in her corner.

"Toads are particularly easy to vanish," said McGonagall in her usual commanding voice, "they are such unimpressive and simplistic creatures that even a poorly performed vanish spell can work on a measly toad. . . . So — if you ever see one, you can try it out to test your skill and boost your confidence."

Tracey couldn't stop her laugh, and a quick chortle escaped her. But the eyes of the two professors made her quieten up instantly. Daphne, at her side, shook her head, but there was a glint of amusement on her face. Many students from both houses had their heads bowed to hide the grins on their faces.

When McGonagall finally told them all to pack away, Umbridge rose with a grim expression on her face.

"Well, it's a start," said McGonagall as she watched the students dropping the wiggling mouse pieces into the box by her table as they exited.

Umbridge approached the teacher's desk. "How long have you been teaching at Hogwarts?" she asked.

"Thirty-nine years this December," said Professor McGonagall brusquely, snapping her bag shut.

Professor Umbridge made a note.

"Very well," she said, "you will receive the results of your inspection in ten days' time."

"I can hardly wait," said Professor McGonagall in a coldly indifferent voice, and she strode off toward the door. "Hurry up, all of you!" she said at the lingering students. And a lot of them swore that the Scottish witch had a faint smile on her face.

Among the leaving students, Draco Malfoy walked a little behind his two goons, who talked among each other about food, but he was looking down at his hands at the black card with gold lettering. He couldn't help but wonder a thing that the maker of this card had said to him last year.

And the words that he heard just a few weeks ago.

'Don't be a stranger, Malfoy. . .'

'Maybe. . . just maybe he would. . . he's a noble pureblood after all,' thought the Malfoy heir, clenching his free fist before turning back to see Umbridge walking out of the classroom with an unhappy expression on her face, shouting at students to clear the way for her.

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Quinn West - MC - Oh boy, here we go again.

Minerva McGonagall - Transfiguration Mistress - Toads are easy to. . . disappear.

Draco Malfoy - Malfoy Heir - Thoughts swirl in his mind.

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The link is in the synopsis!