Chapter 354 Recruitment

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Quinn sat in his favorite cafe with a book in his hand. He neither drank coffee nor tea, but he did like eating cakes, and while Polly and Ms. Rosey made perfectly delicious cakes, this cafe baked delicacies so addicting that Quinn had suspected them of adding drugs as an ingredient. He had gone as far as to check there was anything suspicious but other than some great quality ingredients, he had failed to find any other strange things.

The fork cut a piece of his lemon yogurt cake and floated itself to Quinns mouth as he continued to read his book. He let out a teenie bit of food moan as the lemony goodness exploded in his mouth.

This is so good! He turned to the shop counter and threw a hearty thumbs-up to the employee behind the counter, who thumbs-upped back with a smile.

He returned to his book with forkfuls of cake gently placed into his mouth. But then suddenly, a man came and sat in front of him, at his table.

Quinn didnt look up from his book as he said, Theres an empty table there; if you dont mind can you vacate my table. Thatd be much appreciated. Another forkful of cake landed on his tongue.

I actually meant to sit with you, Mr. Quinn West, said the man. Ive heard a lot about you and wondered if we could have a little chat.

Quinn finally looked up at the uninvited man and chanced upon the clean shaved man dressed in a brown suit with a darker tie and a Panama hat, looking at him with sparkling eyes that stood out as the only defining feature of the man.

And who might you be? he asked.

Apologies for that. How rude of me to not introduce myself. My name is Croaker. Im pleased to meet you.

Croaker. . . and? asked Quinn, but he already had an inkling. . . now he already, for a fact, knew who this man was.

Just Croaker for now.

Well then, Mr. Just-Croaker-for-now, if you want to have a chat with me, please schedule a meeting with me through my secretary.

You dont have a secretary. . . do you?

No, I dont have one.

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Then theres no way for me to schedule a meeting.

Exactly. Finally, you get it; I thought you were simply slow on the uptake. While I would like to return by saying that it was a pleasure to meet you, it would be a lie if I said so. Now, if youll please leave me alone to my cake.

Quinn returned to his book, but Croaker didnt move from his chair; instead, the man called for the waitress and ordered himself the same thing that Quinn was having.

Good choice, said Quinn, but whatre you doing? If you want to enjoy your cake, do so at another table.

If youd just listen to me, Im sure youd be interested in what I have to say.

Not interested.

Would you lose anything if you listen?

Yes. My incredibly precious time.

I have a job offer for you, Mr. Quinn West.

Thank you for the offer, but Im not interested in entering the working society yet.

Have you heard of the Departement of Mysteries?

Quinn clicked his tongue and put down his book on the table. You had to say it, didnt you, Saul Croaker.

Oh, you know me? asked Croaker, briefly surprised.

Of course, I do know you, Professor Saul Croaker. Youre a premier researcher in the study of time. Have a law named after you, Quinn said to Croaker, who kept smiling. Professor Saul Croakers law. It states that five hours was the longest someone could travel back in time without the possibility of serious harm to the traveler or time itself.

I have varying thoughts on the matter, but your research was a fascinating read.

Why, thank you. But what about your varying thoughts. Where do you disagree with my theory? asked Croaker.

Theres no mathematical logic behind my thinking, but I believe that a person doesnt need five hours to send time and the future events into disarray. One rash decision made under rash emotion or an action taken in the heat of the moment, he snapped his fingers, that is all it takes to plunge everything into chaos.

Ah yes, the human factor, Croaker nodded. I used a base assumption for my research. Actually, Im currently trying to study how the spectrum of human behavior and actions affects the stream of time.

Interesting.

It is, isnt, smiled Croaker. Are you interested in the research of time, Quinn?

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Cant say Im not.

Then would you like to join the Department of Mysteries?

No, thank you.

. . . Quinn, you realized what this offer represents. A very few people ever get a look from our department, much less an offer to join.

Croaker reached into his coat and took out a black leather folder/binder. Quinns eyes lingered on Croakers coat, which shouldnt be able to hold a large folder. It made Quinn think that Croaker(or even most Unspeakables) had pockets similar to him. Then his eyes went to the black leather folder it was something he recognized fairly well.

A Hogwarts record folder, said Quinn. Room of Rewards, the entryway to the Sin vault, held records of every student that ever studied at Hogwarts everything from report cards, achievements, professors recommendations, behavioral accounts, among other various things. Quinn had seen his own black folder, and he was pleased to read what was written there.

I have to ask who gave you this? Quinn pointed at the folder. Whos the one inside Hogwarts who has the in with the Departments of Myster. . . he paused mid-sentence . . . it is Professor McGonagall. Shes the one who recommends students and provides you with black leather folders.

Minerva McGonagall, the Deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts. Except for the magical privileges that Hogwarts bestowed upon the Headmaster, she was in control and had access to pretty much everything in Hogwarts. She would be the most likely person to provide the information to the Unspeakables. Moreover, it was McGonagall who provided Hermione with the Time-Turner, something strictly controlled by the Department of Mysteries that one incident was all Quinn needed to form his conjecture.

Man, who knew McGonagall would be the, he made air quotes, recruiter inside Hogwarts who knew the upright Scottish witch would be the one.

Quinn watched Croaker, who sat with no change in expressions, which confirmed that he had been correct. Everything from Croakers face to his body language was perfect too perfect which itself became a fault.

I dont blame her. For a clock to function properly, all the cogs must be placed in their appropriate places.

I dont know what youre talking about, Croaker denied Quinns conjecture at once.We dont usually recruit straight out of Hogwarts. Children who come out of school are still too immature and inexperienced to be part of our operation but, he opened the black folder, you-you. . . I have never seen this from someone just out of Hogwarts. When I first saw it, I thought it was a joke, but after confirming twice and vetting it thrice, I couldnt see it as a joke. Prefect. . . Headboy. . . Organized a multi-school Quidditch League. . . Hosted the Tri-wizard Tournament. . . Perfect grades. . . and theres Aid In Distress or AID the last one was is a shining star on your record. You have done so much in seven years, Quinn. And the thing that binds everything together your aptitude for magic.

Croaker stared at Quinn and continued after a pause, After seeing all of this, I, on behalf of the Department of Mysteries, extend an offer to you to join us as an. . . Unspeakable.

Quinn breathed out, leaning into his chair. Unspeakable. He knew what power that designation held. It was a department with autonomy within the Ministry so much so that even a Ministry of Magic couldnt shut down. It was the place where mysteries of magic were studied, with the envelope being pushed forward.

With all that, Quinn responded, I appreciate the offer, but Ill have to refuse.

. . . Quinn, were a very exclusive organization and wouldnt extend this offer again. If you chose to refuse this offer now, itd be gone like sand in the wind. . . it wont return. Do know what youre missing is something youd regret missing. We are at the bleeding edge of magic. We have direct sight to the truth.

So, Ill extend this offer for the second and last time. Join the Department of Mysteries.

There was a silence between them. Both sat in the outside area of a cafe with people walking by them, unknowing about the conversation that was happening just a few paces away. That an Unspeakable and a member of the wealthiest family in the country were sharing a table beside them.

I still refuse, said Quinn.

Croaker sighed as he closed the folder and put it back. May I know why did you refuse?

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I wont lie by saying that if I had accepted your offer, I wouldve gotten access to resources which would be tedious for me to procure. . . a culture of research and innovation. . . but all of that wouldve come with its restriction I wouldve lost the freedom that I have right now. Quinn stopped Croaker from interjecting, Whatever you say, it is still a ministerial department with a budget and Im sure the Department of Mysteries have their own deliverables that they need to meet to maintain that budget because Im sure the bureaucrats and politicians wouldve chewed down the flow of money with how your department operates.

I dont want to spend the next decade as a grunt who is stuck with handling those mandatory tasks. I want to learn whatever I want travel whenever and wherever I want pursue whatever interest I want to overtake and if I join you, it will take me a long-long time, maybe never even, to reach that level.

. . . And youre saying that youll be better of on your own.

A smile stretched on Quinns face that could only be described as self-confident. Im a West, Mr. Croaker. I have no shortage of funds. He pointed at the black folder, What you have in that file is not all of me. Its just one side of me. Yes, I spent seven years in Hogwarts, but that doesnt mean that Hogwarts was all I did in that time. Im going to travel and meet people at the very top of their fields learn from them and improve.

Quinns expression turned to a half-smiling- half-serious. Im going to recreate the golden age of magic in this era my era. He then smirked, And about this being the last offer, I dont think so. Youll approach me again. Even if you dont, Im sure your department and I will be collaborating on some projects.

Thats some arrogant thinking. The golden age? Thats some big talk.

Its only arrogance if Im wrong. As for the big talk? I only aim for the best.

Quinn stood up. He had finished his cake, and the discussion had also come to an end. Mr. Croaker, please have anything you want. I have a tab here; ask them to put everything on there.

Thats nice of you.

Quinn smiled and was about to leave when a thought struck him and spoke to Croaker. If youre looking for new blood. Id suggest that you target Ivy Potter. . . Im sure you know who she is. Ask Professor McGonagall for her file, Im sure shed be a valuable asset to your organization.

Thank you, but you dont need to consider yourself with.

Im just pointing you to a good recommendation. You dont want to have another Augustus Rockwood situation.

Croakers eyes turned sharp as he looked at Quinn, who chuckled, Oh, that hit a nerve. Im sorry.

Quinn didnt wait for a response and walked away with Croaker watching him from his chair.

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Quinn West MC I shall not be part of the secret organization.

Saul Croaker Unspeakable Has studied time magic.

FictionOnlyReader Author I have been wanting to write something like this for a long time. Maybe, Croaker will return later.

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