HP: A Magical Journey

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The mirror in Quinn’s pocket flashed and vibrated, but his hands didn’t go to it, despite knowing where and whom the call was coming from. His eyes were stuck on the surreal sight in front of him.

On a street junction, three wooden pillars stood erected, and tied up from them were three bodies with their heads bowed and arms nailed on horizontal wooden planks. They had been stripped of their clothes, leaving them with no dignity even in death. There were dried blood stains on the ground, seemingly having dripped down from their bodies. Quinn stepped out from the shadows and moved closer and saw the discolored skin color which had turned a grotesque black. . . he knew what that was a sign of. . . someone had overloaded their bodies with Crucio for an excessive amount of time. If they were alive, their skin would’ve recovered with time, but in death, it would stay this way until their bodies decomposed, returning to earth.

He didn’t know who these men were or why they ended up like this, but he was sure they didn’t deserve this fate and ending. Quinn clenched his fist and looked with self-disgust because he knew he couldn’t get the dead bodies down from the pillars as doing so would alert the Death Eaters of an outside presence.

‘Too late, huh,’ Quinn squeezed his shut for a moment before disappearing into the wind.

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“Albus, we have to do something,” McGonagall impatiently entered the Headmaster’s Office and began pacing around under Dumbledore’s eyes. “The older students are gathering in the Great Hall, and I fear they will demand that the Potter family be given to the Dark Lord. We must stop it at once! We already have enough problems outside; I’m not equipped to handle them arising inside.”

The younger students weren’t old enough to completely comprehend the situation and believed Dumbledore’s words of everything being alright. But the senior students had the capability to think for themselves, and at that age, it was an instinct to question and sometimes oppose the decision. Right now, those instincts were rearing their heads.

“If they ask for it,” said Dumbledore, “I will face them, listen to their reasoning, talk to them— but I’m not going to shut them down without giving them a chance to speak their minds.”

“What if they don’t listen?”

“They will. . . they have to. What reason do they have other than Voldemort’s word, which frankly saying isn’t much. They haven’t lived through wars, faced Dark Lords, or know what goes in their twisted minds— they haven’t seen the dark side, the real side of things. . . and as long as they’re in my care, it’s my duty to protect them from it.”

Dumbledore stood up from his chair and headed to the window. He stared out at the scenery with his hands behind his back; he could barely make out Hogsmeade in the distance because of the ward distorting the view. “Minerva. . . I would like to take care of Hogwarts in case something happens to me. I have already named you my successor. . . take care of the children,” he said.

McGonagall froze in her tracks and jerkily turned to Dumbledore. “Albus, what are you. . .”

“I’ve already passed a hundred a decade ago—”

“That doesn’t mean anything,” interjected McGonagall; she didn’t want this conversation to continue. “You’re not old, Albus, if that’s what you’re trying to imply— you’re not a Muggle.” The magical kind had longer lifespans; for them, a hundred years wasn’t the sunset of life.

“. . . No, I’m not old; this isn’t about that,” Dumbledore still didn’t turn towards her. “Frankly speaking, I was in my prime when I fought Grindelwald. I was young, passionate, and had the hunger suitable for that time— I was even learning under Nicholas back then. When the war ended and the peace arrived, I let my hair down and returned to teaching at Hogwarts. . . my efforts at magic took a step back. When I became the Headmaster, my duties increased, same with my other titles. . . another step back for magic. By the time Tom Riddle rose as Voldemort, I hadn’t been as active with magic as I was when I fought Grindelwald. . . . I had become complacent. When Voldemort started to show as a threat, I dusted the cobwebs over my magic— even those efforts constantly clashed with my role at Wizengamot. . . but I trusted them to be enough,” Dumbledore took out the Elder wand to gaze at it. “When Voldemort was vanquished, I thought I would double-down my efforts; however, leading the Light faction was a burden too time-consuming— and I had to figure out a way to defeat Voldemort once and for all. . .”

He turned to McGonagall and surprised her with a bitter smile. “I fear I’m not strong enough to come out alive from a life-and-death duel with Voldemort. He has always been hungry for power. The time he had spent suffering after Harry vanquished him has only strengthened that desire. He has utilized unspeakable dark rituals to bolster his power, learned the vilest of magic— he is mighty. . .”

The last words were already said before, and McGonagall could tell that Dumbledore chose not to tell them.

“You have to be alive,” said McGonagall. “There can’t be any other outcome. Hogwarts needs you, the children need you. . . Hogwarts won’t be the same without you. You need to stay alive to see a time where you can retreat away from everything and just be the Headmaster and actually get to teach.”

The light returned to Dumbledore’s eyes as he chuckled. “Maybe you are right. I would love to teach again.”

“You looked like you enjoyed it when you did it that year.”

“Working with young children, introducing them to new things is the finest experience I have had in my life,” Dumbledore smiled as he sighed. “I hope I will get to experience it again. . . I really hope so.”

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– (Scene Break) –

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“Sir, we are ready to move in.”

Sirius strapped his standard-issue Auror dragonhide heavy vest as he turned to his subordinate. “Good, tell everyone to strap up and take their position; we move in three.”

“Yes, sir,” the Junior Auror saluted before running away.

Sirius turned towards and walked towards a group dressed differently. All were dressed in matching tan combat gear, which, different from the Auror issue, was made from a select breed of dragons with a lighter and more magic-resistant hide. Every last one seemed in tip-top shape with a body language that spoke of their training.

“Warlunt,” called Sirius. ρꪖꪕᦔꪖꪕꪫꪣꫀ​ꪶ​

Warlunt, his Hit Wizard counterpart, turned, and for a moment, Sirius thought how if Warlunt wasn’t married, he would’ve been the perfect wingman. He was handsome in the rugged way that many ladies dug, and combined with his job as Hit Wizard, the man was a chick magnet.

“Ready?” said Warlunt.

“The wardbreakers are ready to break the ward at command,” said Sirius, returning his focus to the job. “Are you going to lead the vanguard or rearguard?” There were three ground teams and one air unit. Out of the three ground teams, two were made up of Hit Wizards, and they were going to assume the role of the vanguard, and the second Hit Wizard team went from the backside of the resort. Sirius was going to lead the rearguard team of Aurors from the front. The second team of Aurors was going to take the sky on brooms and were going to proceed to enter from the sky and attack from above if needed.

“I’m leading the charge,” said Warlunt, as if it was obvious.

“Good man,” praised Sirius with respect before speaking with a severe tone. “Be careful; the target is a heavy-handed butcher. He will not hesitate to cut off limbs or blast off pieces of bodies. It’s a rarity we get his victims in stable condition. Don’t hold back; I have already told my men to cast to kill. I don’t mind capturing him alive, but even for a moment, you find yourself in a shred of doubt that things could go awry, kill the bastard. . . . If you’re hesitant to do so, go look at the kid’s dead body at the entrance.”

Warlunt shook his head. “I don’t mind it. If you want him dead, I will deliver him to you dead.”

“Not if I get to him first.”

“We will see about that, little man,” the towering Hit Wizard smirked. Sirius clicked his tongue and shoved Warlunt, who laughed in return.

After the five minutes passed, Sirus faced everyone who had been assembled for the current mission. Aurors, Hit Wizards, Medi-Healers for emergencies, external consultant wardbreakers. . . everyone was looking at him. “I don’t have much to say, and neither am I interested in saying much, so I’ll keep it short,” he said. “Our peers stationed outside Hogwarts with Death Eaters and the Dark Lord holding the entire village hostages while our children are only separated by a ward. While here we are, facing a man whom I respected before he killed a child— now he’s a worthless bastard that needs to go. I would rather be at Hogsmeade than here, making sure that the people I work with and care for are safer with me there, protecting their backs, and ensuring the children are not harmed.”

Sirus got a murmur of agreement. He continued, “And make no mistakes, I’m going to be there. For that to happen, we need to sort out this mess. So, let’s get in there, save the people, and put the bastard into his place. I don’t want a single injury because I want all bodies at Hogsmeade after this. This is a detour to the main event, and you should treat this as a warm-up. . . . That’s it, everyone gets into positions.”

There was a wave of cheer for everyone to psych themselves up. Everyone had already been instructed on how to proceed and had been familiarized with the layout of the building.

The wardbreakers positioned themselves on either side of the door, behind the walls, so they couldn’t be attacked while dismantling the ward. Warlunt and his team took the frontal position with Sirius’ team behind. The air team rose up on their brooms, and the third ground team moved the backside to enter from there.

“Wards coming down in ten,” announced one of the wardbreakers, and the countdown began. The ward started to flicker, and within ten seconds, the ward broke down. Sirius shot a detection spell, and the moment it cleared up, a Hit Wizard moved in and pulled the dead body out.

“Move in,” Warlunt ordered, and everyone on the scene proceeded as instructed. Warlunt crossed the tunnel but dipped back in just in time to escape a green Killing Curse passing him by. “He’s on the left. Cover for me.”

The Hit Wizard behind Warlunt charmed outside the tunnel, and it rose to create a wall. Warlunt moved behind the wall, and the moment he felt an impact on the wall, he ducked out and was about to shoot a spell but immediately entered into protection again.

“What is it?” asked Sirius.

“That was not the Invisible Vigilante,” said Warlunt, frowning.

“What?”

“A resort staff shot a Killing Curse at me.”

“What?! Why?”

“How would I know—” Warlunt’s eyes widened, and he groaned hard before saying, “they’re under Imperius. God damn it! That fucker put the staff under Imperius! We aren’t facing a single person anymore!”

“You mean,” Sirus wrinkled his nose.

“Yeah. . . lethal force is now out of use.”

Things had just gotten a lot more complicated.

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Quinn West – MC – Gotta be sneaky.

Albus Dumbledore – Headmaster – I would love to teach and learn again.

Sirius Black – Senior Auror – The day keeps getting worse.

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The link is in the synopsis!