HP: A Magical Journey

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“I’m bored of playing chess,” said Sara Abate, the only person his age that Quinn had been able to make friends with during his stay at the Palazzo Abate.

“We can always do something else,” said Quinn as he moved his bishop across the board, “and from the look of it, we will be needing something else to do. .. . . checkmate.”

“Great, then let’s do something else.”

Quinn looked up at the girl, “Did you lose on purpose?”

“No, of course not,” said the girl, packing up the chess set, “so what should we do?”

He looked at her with a suspecting gaze. “We can go see the Volcano of Stromboli on the Aeolian Islands and wait to see the explosions. . . . if we’re lucky, we could see some big ones.”

“Can we go up to the top?”

“. . . . I don’t think so, that’s not safe, I’m guessing.”

“Then no, let’s think of something else,” she said. The initially shy girl had opened up to Quinn with time.

“Okay, how about we go to a beach?” he suggested, “I’m sure we can find a secluded one and spend a fun day by the seaside.”

“I’m not really in the mood to go outside,” said Sara.

“You’re the host, you know; you should be telling me what we should be doing. . . . can I interest you in some magic, though?” he asked, pulling out a deck of cards to perform a riffle shuffle while they were in his hands.

“Magic? You mean card tricks; what can you do?”

“A whole bunch of things,” Quinn held the red deck with his left-hand fingers and waved the left in front of it for the deck to change to blue.

“I can do that,” said Sara.

“Not without magic. . . . I need to come up with a term to differentiate the two types.”

“You do that while I get us something to drink,” said Sara and got up from her chair. She exited the balcony where they sat, went to the first door she could find, took out a silver key, and inserted it into the keyhole before turning it for the door to turn a royal blue. Sara opened it, and the door was now connected to her own room. She went in and took out two bottles each of Limonata and Arinchatta and prepared two Cornetti con Panna for them.

She turned to go back but stopped before she could even take a single step.

“Uncle!” she exclaimed; her heart was trying to leap out of her chest, “what you doing. . . . ” her voice trailed off as her eyes went glossy, dull, and out of focus.

“Don’t worry, Sara,” said the wire-thin man, “this will only take a few minutes,” he gently took the glass bottles from her hands, “you won’t even remember it.”

“Okay. . . .” said Sara, her voice not louder than a murmur.

The third son smiled as he made Sara sit down before looking at the bottle in his hands. “Quinn West, we’re going to have a lot of fun for a long, long time.”

. . .

“I’m back.”

Quinn’s eyes left the layoff cards on the table and looked at Sara. He saw the bottles and the two croissants that Sara had with her and grew hungry.

“I brought some refreshments,” said Sara and set down the tray before passing a bottle to Quinn, who touched the cap for it to pop off with loud. . . . pop.

“Bubbles, nice,” smiled Quinn and drank the cold soda, “hmm, I can taste lemon,” he smacked his lips, “and something else.” He took another swig and tried to find what else he was tasting.

Sara smiled and picked up a bottle for herself, “That’s the fun part; it’s a surprise.”

“Whatever it is, it tastes good,” said Quinn looking at the label.

“I will tell you when you finish it. . . . till then keep guessing.”

Quinn went on to show Sara his magic tricks while enjoying his beverage. There were a lot of oohs and aahs from Sara as he proudly displayed the wonders of sleight of hand. But as he did that, Quinn started to feel a little dizzy, a bit lethargic, and a lot slower, but. . . .

When things finally cleared up back to normal, he wasn’t on the terrace with Sara; instead, he was in an empty room lit up with candles placed around the room. He looked down to see that his hands, legs, and torso were thoroughly tied up.

“He’s waking up.”

Quinn looked up towards the source of the voice and saw a man he had only seen once before, and beside him stood Dolion, who was staring at him.

“Dolion. . . . were am I?” asked Quinn.

“How are you feeling, Quinn?” asked Dolion in return and stared into Quinn’s eyes.

“I feel slow. . . and my head feels heavy. . . . now — it’s gone. . . . Dolion — what’s happening?”

Dolion’s eyes shined when Quinn told him about the heaviness disappearing. It meant that Quinn wasn’t able to detect him inside his head. ‘I can work without worry now,’ he thought.

“There’s nothing to worry about, Quinn,” said Dolion smiling. “You’re just feeling that way because I have given you a magic-dampening potion. . . . it cuts your connection to your magic. . . . once upon a time it was given to prisoners.” He had given Quinn a unique blend of magic-dampening potions that not only did its original function but also put the target into a hazy state.

“That — sounds — interesting. . . . . why did — they — stop?”

“It is interesting,” smiled Dolion, “you don’t need to worry about why they stopped.”

A strong wind made the windows shake and shudder, making Dolion’s middle-aged companion quake in surprise. He turned to Dolion and asked, “Are you sure the bodyguard isn’t going to find out?”

“Aksel doesn’t stay by his side while he’s with mother or Sara. As long as Aksel is concerned, Quinn is currently with Sara. He won’t be interfering with this, and even if he does decide to check on him, we will be done by the time he finds him,” a smirk made its way to Dolion’s face, “when he questions Quinn, the kid will say whatever we want him to, and Aksel will believe it because of Quinn’s actions in Denmark.”

Dolion then turned to his companion and sighed, “You’re speaking too much. Why did I ever think that it was okay to get you involved? You have been absolutely useless,” he smiled, “I know why. . . . you’re my puppet after all.”

“What are you saying?” asked the middle-aged man.

Dolion raised his wands, and as the tip glowed with a dirty yellow, the middle-aged man’s eyes went blank, all expression drained, and the man seemed to have become something like a. . . . puppet.

Dolion turned to Quinn, who was swirling his head as if not being able to support it. “Quinn,” he called.

“Yes?” said Quinn, looking at Doloin with out-of-focus eyes.

“Do you know this person?” Dolion pointed to the puppet-like man.

“No.”

“You should get to know him; he’s my puppet. Well, he’s my first cousin, Antonio Abate. . . . And soon you’re going to become his ‘brother’ so it’s essential that you two get along,” he smiled and then chuckled, “I don’t think it will be a problem with getting along. I can just make you two get along.”

He turned to Antonio Abate and spoke, “Go out and keep a lookout to see if there is someone who comes looking. Inform me if you see someone.”

Antonio mechanically nodded and turned to walk towards the door.

“Now, where were we,” Dolion turned back to Quinn, “it’s time to get you—,” his words died in his mouth, the sight in front of him made his heart skip a beat. . . . the chair was empty.

‘Where. . . . where is he?!’

“It’s fascinating, you know?”

Dolion turned hastily towards the voice and saw Quinn with his hands behind his back standing in front of a still Antonio, staring at the man.

“Antonio Abate, you said was this man’s name?” said Quinn, snapping his fingers in the face of Antonio, “this man has become an automaton. . . . and you say that you did this to this man,” he turned to face Dolion, “if I didn’t know a thing or two about you, Dolion, I wouldn’t have believed it. . . . even now, I’m having a little difficulty believing that you are the cause of ‘dead’ Antonio’s current status.” ρꪖꪕᦔꪖꪕꪫꪣꫀ​ꪶ​

“How?” asked Dolion and slowly walked behind the chair Quinn was previously sitting on.

“What do you mean. . . . how?”

“You know what,” said Dolion, his hand slowly creeping towards his sides.

“Magic-dampening potion,” said Quinn, who was now waving his hand in front of Antonio, “a terrible, terrible potion. . . . as you stated it cuts or weakens connection to magic,” Quinn tilted his neck towards Dolion with a smile, “and as it so happens I have taken magic-dampening potion in the past.”

“Huh. . . . what?”

Quinn didn’t reply and simply raised his hand towards Dolion, and a bolt of white spell-lightning of fill body-bind zapped towards Dolion, who had been trying to sneak his wand out, had his hand on his wand, so he whipped it out and slashed it to swat the spell away and was successful in doing so. . . . or so he thought; Dolion felt a paralysis crawl through his fingertips, traveled up his arm, and before he knew it, his right upper body was completely paralyzed.

Dolion could only watch as another white spell-light zapped his as his wand lay in his paralyzed right hand.

Quinn then manipulated Dolion’s body and strapped him to the chair he was previously bound to before releasing him of the temporary paralysis but not before taking Dolion’s wand from him.

“You fascinate me, Dolion,” said Quinn and then paused for a brief moment, wound his arm up and. . . . PAA! . . . he slapped Antonio hard on his face, sending ripples through the chubby cheeks before falling down to the ground. . . . knocking him out — Quinn might have inserted a tiny boost of body magic to his slap.

Quinn stared at Antonio for a bit. Then pulled a chair, dragged it in front of Dolion, and sat down. “So, where were we? Ah yes, I was telling you how fascinating I found you. . . . you see, I have a problem,” Quinn licked his lip, “I’m a serial mind reader. . . . I read a lot of people’s minds while talking to them.”

“A lot?” scoffed Dolion, “you read almost everyone’s mind at the first lunch.”

“So, I was right,” smiled Quinn, “you’re a Legilimens. I had a hunch from the first time I met you. . . . I had felt a little something, but I had chalked it up to me imagining things. . . . at least for a couple of days.”

“Now, while there were a couple of people in the Abate family who I couldn’t mind-peek with sneaky Soft-Legilimency.”

When a Legilemens tried to break into a mind without the target knowing it was known as a Soft-Legilimency, but when they didn’t care about being known, it was known as Hard-Legilimency, and the final form was disregard all care and go all out, even if it caused severe pain and damage to the target, it was known as Brute-Force-Legilimency.

“And while my Soft-Legilimency skills weren’t limited to what I was using, I couldn’t go past beyond them.” Quinn smiled bitterly, “As I mentioned before, I’m a serial mind reader. . . . and it’s a problem. I tend to feel uncomfortable when I can’t read the mind of an unknown person. . . . I’m sure you know the feeling.”

Dolion didn’t respond even though he knew precisely what Quinn was talking about. It was a common problem among Legilimens across the globe.

“To make sure my condition doesn’t worsen, I have self-imposed some rules upon myself to keep myself from slipping.”

“How noble of you,” said Dolion sarcastically.

Quinn ignored the jab and continued, “I would describe my current situation as a state of being — meaning that I’m not having trouble maintaining proper decorum with others’ minds, it’s under my control and not the other way around — my mind problem doesn’t hinder my daily life,” his eyes flashed with a somber glint, “but I don’t want it to turn into a constant state of struggle where I’m having difficulty stopping myself from breaking into people’s mind left and right. . . .” He sighed, “that’s where the rules come in — don’t use Legilimency on friends and families; if the person isn’t suspicious on the first scan, don’t scan them again; never even think about going above Soft-Legilimency unless there’s a solid reason; and a few others that keep my bad habit in check. . . .”

Quinn had once thought that he wouldn’t get into this problem like Alan did, but here he was, but at least he was following a strict regime to help himself and the people around him. And like Alan, who liked to use his teaching job to keep his cravings in check, Quinn used his daily Hogwarts breakfast Soft-Legilimency sweep as a way as a treat.

It was important for Quinn to restrain himself because if a day came where he stopped doing so, then that would be the day when Quinn would lose the ability to trust in anyone and, in turn, lose all his important relationships and the ability to make new ones. . . . Alan had said so himself when Quinn had written to his teacher and Quinn agreed with the assessment.

“Coming back to the matter at hand; among the other rules, there’s a rule regarding Soft-Legilimency, which is — only emotions and surface thoughts. . . no memories. . . . as such, I restrict myself from diving into memories which is why I never viewed any of the Abate family members,” then Quinn raised his finger, “but then I found something strange. . . .”

Dolion was trying to get free, but the bindings were too firm, so he couldn’t do anything but listen, and it wasn’t like he was uninterested.

“. . . . Aksel Thorn was the problem,” said Quinn making Dolion frown,

“What do you mean?” asked Diloin in confusion. Aksel wasn’t part of the plan.

“I spent some time with Mr. Thorn in Denmark, and even though it was a brief stay, I had gotten a gist of what he was like. . . . so imagine my surprise when the fellow who was a man of few words in his own country where he spoke his mother tongue, was so chipper with various members of the Abate family. . . . In our travel across the country, you and he talked a lot when I was busy, and I know for a fact that he told you about me being skilled at magic; Mr. Thorn even told you about how quick I learned apparition. . . so I off-handedly sneaked some answers out him indirectly through conversations.”

It turned out that the Abate family was a regular client for Abates, which was why Aksel was comfortable with Abates as they were a regular and well-playing client. He was comfortable enough to discuss Quinn’s whereabouts with Brio Abate.

“But that turned out to be Mr. Thorn just networking with a client, and this wasn’t enough for me to be suspicious that something like this,” Quinn pointed between them, “would happen, but the thing that did convince me that there was something wrong was you Dolion, you were the final piece.”

“Me?” asked Dolion. He had been acting perfectly since Quinn’s arrival.

“Yes, you, Dolion,” smiled Quinn. “Even without the Legilimency, I was able to understand the dynamics of the current Abate family. . . . the family is essentially in control of four men — Brio and his three sons, Cesare, Matteo, and you.”

Brio Abate, while he was the patriarch of the family, the old man had already withdrawn himself from the responsibilities and had passed them onto his sons — he was only a figurehead, someone maintaining his position as a placholder.

The first son, Cesare, was a philanderer who cheated on his wife with a new woman every week and had no interest in running the family. All he did was have fun on the money got as his position as the first son, in short, a complete wastrel.

The second son, Matteo, was serious, by the books man and the direct opposite of his older brother. As he said to Quinn, Matteo’s calling wasn’t magic but running the family, which he did in place of Cesare — but it turned out that Matteo wasn’t good at leading or managing. He had been struggling hard just to make sure that the business didn’t lose money, much less thinking about turning out a profit. This didn’t seem to be a problem for the current Abate family with their deep coffers, but it was a severe problem in the long term — that’s how old money ran out for many multi-generational families.

“And you, my friend, the third son, are a lazy person,” said Quinn with a shrug to a glare forming in his captive’s eyes, “Dolion, you live a lavish lifestyle, and time-to-time indulge in the same pass time as your eldest brother, but you aren’t attached to someone, so it’s fine, and you are nowhere near Cesare. . . . You also don’t have any interest in running the family, and even though you are in charge of two shops, they are doing just well enough to turn a barely sufficient profit. . . . you’re sloth incarnated.”

Quinn stared at the tied-up Dolion and sighed with a smile, “It’s obvious why you wanted to make me a ‘puppet’ as you said it,” he pointed at Antonio’s leg, which was the only thing visible from their spot, “if you turned me into a puppet-like Antonio, you would have access to all the money would ever need.”

“It seems you already know everything,” said Dolion with a sigh, “how about we forget about everything that happened here. I’m sure you don’t want strife between our families; it won’t do any good to either side.”

Dolion was thinking. If Quinn removed his bindings, he would have a chance once again, and he could try once more when Quinn was flush with victory and guard down.

“That is true; I don’t want bad blood between our families,” said Quinn, but he Dolion had got one thing wrong, “but I don’t know everything. . . . I still have some questions that I will have you answer.”

“There’s nothing else, Quinn, just let me go, and I promise to forget to never do something like this again,” said Dolion, putting on his best smile.

Quinn stared at Dolion’s futile attempts to get free before shaking his head. “Just answer me a question, Dolion. . . . how did you protect Nereo Polo’s brain?”

“. . . . What do you mean? I don’t understand.”

“You asked me how I was alright now even after drinking the magic-dampening potion. The answer is quite simple. . . . the dose wasn’t strong enough,” Quinn saw a look of unconvinced on Dolion’s face, “I’m assuming that you made Nereo brew the potion, and he did a great job making the potion for someone my age, but you see, I’m not your average sixteen year old,” his eyes flashed purple for a split second, “a regular dose of magic-dampening potion which would completely cut the connection with magic couldn’t do anything much to me. . . . I have too much magic inside me, and as absurd may it sound, it would take a concentrated dosage for it to work on me. . . . though I had to say, I didn’t see the modified potion coming, and I was lucky that all it did was make me dizzy for a bit and nothing else.”

Before Dolion could rebuke, Quinn continued, “At Rigenerare, I tried to read Nereo Polo’s memories because I thought he was embezzling money and was the reason he hadn’t sent us any records, but to my surprise, Mr. Polo’s mind was an iron fortress, I couldn’t even sense his emotions,” Quinn’s eyes flashed with cold curiosity, “Dolion I know you did something. It isn’t possible for a second person to protect another’s mind. . . . but you somehow did it. . . . tell me how you did it.”

Dolion’s jaw set in place as he stared at Quinn with an expressionless blank face, “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Quinn stared at Dolion’s face, which showed clear signs of Occlumency, and sighed. Quinn stood up from his spot and moved closer to Dolion. Under Dolion’s solid gaze, Quinn took out a small vial.

“What’s that?” asked Dolion plainly.

“This is. . . .Veritaserum, Dolion,” said Quinn, and if Dolion wasn’t using Occlumency, his eyes would’ve popped out, “I’m going to have to use this to loosen your tongue a little bit.”

Quinn wanted to know how Dolion did it, and he was going to get his answers.

“You are going to tell me how you protected Nereo’s mind and how you turned Antonio into what he is because that’s not Imperious,” he grabbed Dolion by the hair and the man suddenly felt a force opening his mouth.

He could only struggle in vain as drop after drop of Veritaserum hit his tongue.

“Let’s get started,” said Quinn with a cold smile.

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Quinn West – MC – Of course, I knew.

Dolion Abate – Mastermind – Struck with Uno-Reverse.

FictionOnlyReader – Author – It turns out the next chapter is going to be the last of this arc.

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