HP: A Magical Journey

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The lake exploded, and the water burst upwards like a thermal geyser, spraying water everywhere. Dumbledore swept his hand to create a barrier that stopped the errant water from soaking him, Daphne, and Ivy.

The spraying mist settled, and a white mist lingered over the lake that quickly thinned and showed the figure of Quinn walking on water’s surface. He wore no clothes other than his underwear as he stepped onto land and raised his hands towards Ivy.

“Clothes, please,” he said.

Ivy, who was about to hand the Noir patch to Dumbledore, silently handed the white triangle back to Quinn.

“Your wound,” said Dumbledore, eyeing the exposed red gash that looked like the shallow crater blown away from an explosion and the grey and purple skin surrounding it that extended all over his left chest and front shoulder. “It looks better than before,” he glanced at the Great Lake.

“It only looks better,” Quinn had a very faint furrow between his brows. “I can still feel the magic corrupting and corroding my body.” Even after spending three-quarters of an hour inside the Aquatic Vault’s last room hadn’t gotten rid of the effects of the dark curse. “I have only revered the damage a bit, but the curse is still firmly there. My body will continue to suffer the more I use magic,” he spat.

“I believe I can help with that,” Dumbledore raised the vials. “Drink these two. . . and apply this one on the wound, cover it up.”

Quinn didn’t even ask what the potions were or what was in them; he consumed and applied them as Dumbledore instructed. It wasn’t the time to discuss(or argue) medicine with Dumbledore. As he was healing, so was Voldemort; the more they waited, the more time they were giving for him to recover.

“I can feel it working,” noted Quinn as he felt a warmth spread through his body while the searing hot wound cooled down.

“The faster a dark curse ailment is treated, the better chance it will recover without complications. Whatever you did in the lake seems to have pushed the curse’s effects back— it has made it like you were treated the very moment you got hit by the curse,” said Dumbledore. “What I gave you won’t cure you completely; that will take a long course of treatment to get rid of the dark magic seated in your body. . . but it will do for now.”

“We will worry about that later,” Quinn fused the end of the bandage he put on himself into the rest of it. He gently placed the Noir patch in the middle of his chest, and it sprung into the combative gear mode. The hole where he had been hit was still there, but Quinn tapped the triangle again for the corrupted and damaged to fall off before Noir used extra fabric charmed into it to fix itself. “Right now, we need to strike Voldemort while he still has the Basilisk venom in his body. I don’t know the exact physiology of his body, but seeing how much he loves snakes, I’m sure he will eventually recover from the venom. Now is the time; we should kill him while he is at his weakest.”

Quinn glared at Dumbledore, daring him to say otherwise.

“. . . You seem angry,” said Dumbledore.

“I am,” said Quinn directly. “I almost died. I am absolutely livid.” Moreover, because he drew power from anger, the emotion was still bubbling inside him even after he had taken the time to cook himself. Because of it, he could feel and hear a heavy heartbeat thumping in his chest. He needed the power he was feeling right now. “I have a plan. I want you to occupy Voldemort while I weak—”

“Unfortunately, we have another problem at hand,” said Dumbledore.

Quinn scowled, “What possibly could be more problematic than Voldemort?”

“The Death Eaters,” said Dumbledore, confusing Quinn. “Aurors have infiltrated Hogsmeade,” Quinn knew that because he was the one to give them passage, “Voldemort must have found out because he withdrew the ward over the village and then summoned his allies.”

“Allies, who?”

“I could clearly see Giants and Trolls. Other than that, I believe he has summoned Vampires and Werewolves.”

Quinn’s frown deepened. He had overlooked the possibility of other species being part of the equation after he had only seen human Death Eaters in the village. ‘Death Eaters couldn’t win against the combined forces of Aurors and Hit Wizard, but I thought he was confident in tipping the advantage in his favor all by himself,’ he thought, knowing Voldemort’s personal battle power, but it seems Quinn hadn’t thought things threw. “Are you sure they can’t handle it by themselves?” he asked— he wanted to end Voldemort as soon as possible.

“I don’t believe they can. . . at least they can’t without substantial casualties.”

Quinn’s mouth turned into a white line. He looked at Dumbledore and asked, “What do you suggest?” Dumbledore had experience with wars and had life experience much richer than Quinn; he was better equipped to handle the current situation than him.

“I will head out and aid the Aurors. . .”

“What about Voldemort? He won’t sit back and let you take care of his forces.”

“I will deal with him as well. Right now, you need to let the potions work and rest—”

“Not happening. I can’t rest now; it’s not the time,” Quinn shut Dumbledore down. He thought for a moment before continuing, “This is what we do. You help the Aurors while I hold back Dumbledore. When you’re done with the clean-up, come join me.”

“No, I can’t support that. I can’t let you face him by yourself,” Dumbledore looked where Quinn had been hit. “Seeing that you refuse to rest and stay out. . . I will hold him back, and you can help the Aurors.”

Quinn clenched his fist. He wanted to face Voldemort so that he could vent some anger and take revenge for the mortal injury he had given him. But Dumbledore holding Voldemort while he helped the Aurors made more sense. “So be it,” he said, “but don’t blame me for not holding back against the Death Eaters.” He had to vent somewhere; they were just in the wrong place.

Dumbledore made no comment.

“. . . Go ahead, and I’ll be there in a minute,” said Quinn, glancing towards Daphne and Ivy.

“Take your time; I will be instructing the professors,” said Dumbledore, and Quinn nodded.

When Dumbledore was out of earshot, Quinn spoke to his two girlfriends. “How are both of you doing?” he asked, looking at his hands as he pulled up his gloves. “This will end soon, so sit tight and don’t take on stress; it’s not good for you—”

“What is this?” interrupted Ivy. “What are you trying to do right now?”

“Nothing, just stay—”

“Look at me!”

He stopped fiddling with his gear and looked up at furious Ivy. Her eyes were wide, her shoulder rose up and down, and she had her hands clenched into fists. He didn’t want to face this confrontation right now, but it didn’t look like he could escape it.

“What do you want me to say?” he asked. “All of this. . . all of the things I did had to be done for things to move forward so that this misery could end. A future that’s bright instead of bleak. . .”

“By lying to us?” said Daphne. “You used me to get into Hogwarts.”

“I—”

“Yes, I know, you had to. But is this how it is going to be always? You, lying to us, keep us in the dark every time things get tough? Do you not trust us at all?”

“I was trying to keep you safe.”

“At the expense of losing our trust?”

Quinn couldn’t say anything in rebuttal. He wanted to say it won’t be like this after Voldemort was dead, but there was nothing he could say to back up his claim. But there was one thing he could do. “I. . . I promise to explain everything when this is over,” he said. “I will come clear with everything; please believe me one last time,” he pleaded.

Ivy and Daphne exchanged looks, and neither looked pleased; he had given them nothing to be pleased about.

“Alright,” said Daphne, and Ivy nodded.

Quinn bowed his head in gratitude.

After they left, Quinn headed to the Entrance Hall, where Dumbledore was instructing the professors (sans Lily Potter). Before he entered the hall, Quinn conjured a mask over his face when he noticed the crowd of Hogwarts students standing at a distance, looking at the professors. The moment he stepped into the sight, the entire student body gasped and began to chatter and gossip so loudly that it drowned all other noise.

“Ah—” Dumbledore turned towards Quinn and was about to say something but paused, “— Mr. Vigilante, I see that you’re doing well.”

Quinn nodded and snapped his fingers to form a silencing ward around them. “Professors,” his voice was still distorted, “I hope you have kept my identity a secret from everyone else,” he glanced at the students, “I would hate to force the memory charm on them.”

“No one has said anything to anyone, Mr. West,” frowned McGonagall.

Quinn turned to Dumbledore, “Are they coming out?”

“No, the faculty will stay in the castle with the students in case Voldemort tries to break the ward and target the students,” Dumbledore shook his head.

“Smart decision,” said Quinn— no children would die today.

“Are you ready for this?” asked Dumbledore, looking at Quinn’s chest.

“Your potions are working.”

Poppy scoffed, “You shouldn’t be going out there. Facing the Dark Lord while having a dark curse in your body is plain stupidity. I am the Hogwarts medi-healer, and no student of mine can leave my care without my permission.”

“I’m not a student anymore. I will be fine out there, Madam Pomfrey,” said Quinn.

“I will be looking out for him out there, Poppy,” said Dumbledore.

Poppy didn’t look any better. She hmphed and turned her head away.

“I volunteer to assist you, Headmaster,” said Flitwick. “I might be out of practice, but I can at least handle a few Death Eaters by myself.”

“I need you here with the students, Filius. I feel relieved to go out and face Voldemort, knowing the children are safe with you,” said Dumbledore.

“Come on, let’s get moving,” Quinn ended the conversation and made Dumbledore follow him out of the castle. As they were walking out, Quinn

made them stop in the middle of the path.

“What is it? Are you feeling something in your body?” asked Dumbledore.

“No, stop asking me about that,” Quinn took out a transparent glass box and showed the gilded gold cup with studded jewels inside.

“Is that. . .”

“Hufflepuff’s Cup. Now, I’ve been preparing for this for a long time. We are going to use his own Horcrux to bring him down.”

“What do you mean?” Dumbledore eyed the Horcrux.

Quinn opened his other palm and revealed an obsidian stone. “This is the Resurrection Stone,” he said.

“Resurrection. . . you mean— ?! Deathly Hallow’s Resurrection Stone!!”

“Yes, the same. Just like your Elder Wand.”

“You know about that. . . how?”

“Just like I know how Potters have the Cloak of Invisibility. But that’s not the point right now. I have researched the topic intensively and found a way to weaken him through the use of Horcrux. Not only do I think so, but I also found proof that it would work. When Voldemort hit Harry with the Killing curse, he was knocked out for a moment. He was definitely affected in some way. I have found a way to severely harm using soul magic—”

“Soul magic, that is dangerous magic, Quinn. It’s very dark magic.”

“Now is not the time for that discussion. There was a connection between Harry and Voldemort, and when he cursed Harry, he felt some backlash. Horcrux is essentially a piece of soul. . . the Resurrection Stone is a soul artifact. . . I can use soul magic. . . Voldemort and Horcrux clearly have a connection; I can turn them into a connection similar to his and Harry’s, but one that would harm him much-much more when the Horcrux is destroyed,” Dumbledore listened closely as Quinn proceeded to tell him some intricate details of the magic and how things would progress. “He’s already weaker because of the Basilisk venom; we can use Horcrux to pull him down even more— and when that happens, we can kill him for good.”

“. . . How. . . How long have you been planning this?”

‘My entire life,’ thought Quinn. He put the Horcrux back and said, “Hold Voldemort back until I’m done with the Death Eaters. Don’t get injured because this plan’s success hinges on you.”

He paused before staring intently at Dumbledore,

“And one more thing. . .”

As Quinn continued, he saw Dumbledore’s eyes blow up much wider than he had ever seen.

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Quinn West – MC – Let’s kill.

FictionOnlyReader – Author – Things are going to move very fast now. Very fast.

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The link is in the synopsis!