HP: A Magical Journey

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Quinn cracked his neck and flexed every movable muscle in his body. It hadn’t been long since he had lost control of his own body, but finally, being in his own skin felt phenomenal.

He breathed a sigh of comfort and turned his gaze to the werewolf in front of him while watching in his peripherals as Yaxley and Draco ran past him to continue their mission of the night. They eyed him all the while, and he could feel both their eyes and wands pointed at him even when they weren’t in his eyesight. He, however, didn’t make any moves to stop or even hinder them.

They could get the ball moving while he finished the job here.

He turned his attention back to Fenrir and saw that he was back in his werewolf form. “I have to give it to you, Fenrir Greyback. You’re a special werewolf— that spell would’ve reversed any other werewolf to their human form for at least a couple of minutes with searing pain— but you. . . you barely even sucked in an extra breath, and you’re already back in full form. Truly impressive.”

“What did you do?” Fenrir asked. He didn’t wait for a response and jumped at Quinn with his claws bared.

Quinn waved his hand, and a blinding yellow jet of magic hit Fenrir square in the chest, sending him back, tumbling, and skidding along the floor.

“Homorphus charm,” said Quinn’s Noir voice. “An incredibly inefficient spell that temporarily reverts a fully transformed werewolf into their human forms.”

Fenrir roared in pain while yelping in between as his body wriggled on the floor as the thick mat of fur/hair receded back into his body and muscles deflated back to their pre-transformation form.

“Didn’t I mention it hurts horribly,” Quinn commented.

When he looked away from Fenrir at the Death Eaters, who watched the scene in shock. He wasn’t expecting them to stop and stare between a fight, but he could only partially blame them. The Homorphus charm, as he had mentioned, wasn’t a great spell— not only did it cause tremendous pain to the target, it also wasn’t effective enough to be a practically-viable spell— the spell would fail seven out of ten times, a shocking percentage when facing a werewolf who could transmit the lycanthropy curse. Only when someone with enough skill and power like Quinn used the spell would it work, and even then, the Homorphus charm working against ‘THE’ Fenrir Greyback must’ve been shocking to the Death Eaters.

Quinn, of course, wasn’t shocked as his opponent. Orbs of dirty-yellow magic manifested around him, turned into spell-lights, and zapped towards the Death Eaters. Shields were pulled immediately in panic, which only seemed to grow when the spell ate away at their protection. Quinn didn’t stop and summoned winds to shoot blades at the defending Death Eaters.

He then returned to Fenrir Greyback and stepped on the man’s chest as Empyrean shot out of the floor, bounding Fenrir’s arms, legs, torso, and neck as he tried to struggle against the bounds while the werewolf form started to return.

“I was looking forward to today,” said Quinn, as he began charging magic into a Homorphus charm. “I was disappointed that Bellatrix Lestrange didn’t show up, but seeing you in the line-up made the entire ordeal worth it.”

Fenrir’s eyes shook as he watched the yellow spell turn brighter. He growled and tried to push himself up, just to be pushed down by Quinn’s body magic-assisted leg and punished by the Empyrean bounds.

“Fuck you!” he snarled.

“Oh no, thank you,” said Quinn and let the rampaging magic into Fenrir’s body.

Fenrir let out an ear-ringing roar as the magic reversed the transformation by force. The painful yelling was so harsh that Quinn cast a sound-blocking barrier to keep it contained; however, the Death Eaters were kept within the confines of the sound barrier so that they could be part of Fenrir’s experience.

The exchange of spells halted when the screams pierced the area. The Death Eaters stopped still as their hearts beat faster as they watched the blurred figures behind the ice barrier. The screams continued for more than half a minute before turning into yelping and finally passing into silence.

Quinn removed his feet from Fenrir’s chest. The once imposing man now laid on the floor prone, unconscious, and bloody. The werewolf transformation was tough on the human body, and while Fenrir’s unique circumstances had allowed him to switch painlessly, even he couldn’t handle the reverse without feeling the changes forced on his body while the lycanthropy curse resisted stopping the reversal. Two opposing forces in his body had ripped it apart, leading to severe damage and bodily harm.

‘That’s that,’ Quinn walked past Fenrir and dispelled the ice barrier that had served him well while he took care of the most troublesome of the bunch.

“Now, lady and gentlemen,” he said as he stepped into view. “I have taken care of your attack dog— he yelped bravely and did try to bite, so be proud of him,” the humor vanished, “and now it is time for all of you to follow after him.”

There were no quips or jabs from the Death Eaters’ side as they chose to respond with spells.

Multiple shields, results of multiple different spells, sprung in front of Quinn as he stood calm in his spot as the Death Eaters spell came just to be stopped; even the occasional killing curse by the floors tiles that Quinn had floating around to keep him safe.

Quinn raised his hands, and appendages of red Empyrean radiated into existence out from his body, raising above his body into the air to a height that the Death Eaters could see them glowing in a threatening light. They would remember that moment as the last time of relative peace.

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Quinn stood in the middle of unconscious Death Eaters as dark soot and haze emanated from his body, covering the bodies of the Death Eaters, who had their cracked masks laying beside their bodies.

Tetani Nervum worked to cripple their nerves in their arms to take away their ability to use a wand and, in turn, cast magic.

Quinn sighed when the magic was complete, and the Death Eaters sealed from using magic until he released their arms by restoring their arms. He wished that more people had come to Hogwarts so that he could do more damage.

‘At least they’re were named Death Eaters,’ he thought, looking at the faces, recognizing from the Ministry parties and old newspaper articles on Wizengamot hearings. ρꪖꪕᦔꪖꪕꪫꪣꫀ​ꪶ​

Quinn lifted all of their bodies and pushed them against the walls. The surface of the walls turned into liquid and the Death Eaters sunk inside, leaving only their hands(above the wrist) and feet(below the ankle) to dangle outside as Quinn solidified the wall, trapping and showcasing them at the same time along with their wands.

He wasn’t worried about them not being found. Harry Potter knew that Malfoy was doing something in the Room of Requirement, and even if others didn’t know until now, they would know after today, and someone would be led here to see his artwork.

Quinn finished his work, and at that moment, he saw a green hue reflected on the wall. He turned to see through the grated windows and saw a green skull in the night sky with a snake slithering out of its mouth.

‘Perfect timing.’

He walked to the grate and narrowed his eyes as two additional spells launched out of the Astronomy Tower. They headed in different directions— Headmaster’s Office and Headmaster’s Quarters.

Quinn couldn’t tell the nature of the spells, but if he was to guess, the magic was to make sure that Dumbledore saw the huge skull-and-snake, or at least that he saw it first.

“I should also get there,” Quinn muttered and turned towards the destroyed place of broken marbles, ice pierced into the bricks, scorched walls, and various other spell damage from deflections and misfire. “I should fix this up before going—”

Quinn’s eyes widened as a bout of dizziness hit him, sending him staggering. He tried to look straight ahead, but the world didn’t seem to cooperate with him and spun around like a gyroscope, and no matter how much he tried, he couldn’t focus on a singular point. He took a single step ahead and stepped on the side of his ankle, and fell to the ground. His hands went forward to stop him from kissing the ground. But then his ear started to ring, and even a single moment made him feel like emptying his gut.

As he was sweating, a voice inside his head spoke,

«Where are you going without care? Did you forget that you’re still going through an internal crisis?»

Quinn grunted and sent healing magic around his body to isolate the cause and erase it so that he could regain some semblance of balance. Given the circumstances, he deployed mind and body magic, but even casting magic was hindered because of the physical experience he was going through.

«Yeah. . . none of that going to work when we have your Soul under our control. It’s such a fascinating thing— Soul, that is. It has a tremendous connection with magic, but at the same time, it’s such a vulnerable spot to those who know to work it.»

“What are you—”

«Playtime’s over; it’s time to return to your room; come on, you’re grounded.»

Quinn felt as if senses had been given a shock as for a second, all was kicked up to eleven, but the next second, everything dulled until he couldn’t see, hear, or feel anything. Then everything came back in a blink of an eye— literally, he blinked, and he was able to take stable input through his senses again.

And they showed him a dark and dingy space instead of the Hogwarts corridor.

“Now, what was all that about?”

Quinn sighed when he heard the voice, but not from his mouth. He turned and saw another one of himself, this one glowing green. The Green-Quinn had a smirk on his face as if enjoying the situation.

“As much as I dislike it, I have to give it to you, the way you got rid of Wrath was impressive,” said Green-Quinn, slow clapping. “To think you’d trick the blockhead into willingly relinquishing his control. That idiot gave up the control and ended up getting erased out of existence, but I guess we can only expect that much from someone who has nothing but red steam up in the top shelf.”

Quinn sat on the floor, his face slumped down, chin meeting the chest. He had thought that he would have control for at least another hour, if not more. There was always a time gap between every sin personification appearance— they would enjoy the control of the body for a while before heading inside to meet him, and Quinn hoped that if he was in control, he could at least have some more time before the control was wrestled away.

He was naive in his assumption. They, of course, wouldn’t allow him to remain in command— he wouldn’t do it if he was in their shoes.

Green-Quinn skipped to Quinn on light steps and squatted down in front of him. He tilted his head to take a look at Quinn’s bowed face. “Hey, hey, what happened to you? Why so sad? The worse is yet to come.”

That got to Quinn. He looked up at Green-Quinn’s smug face with wide eyes.

“Now, I like that face,” said Green-Quinn.

“. . . I beg you, please don’t derail the plan.”

Green-Quinn wiggled his finger with a smile. “Can’t do, big guy. I don’t like the plan, and I’ll do as I feel because I’m in charge. Too bad for you, though.”

Quinn’s eyes turned sharp into a glare. “I’m warning you, don’t mess it up. If you even think about messing it up, I’ll make your short pathetic life miserable before snuffing it out like your ‘brothers.’ Don’t test me, or I’ll make you envy those who came before you.”

The personification of envy stared down at Quinn, his face devoid of emotion before a tight smile cleaving his face.

“We will see about that.”

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Quinn West – MC – Why do good things have to end so quickly.

FictionOnlyReader – Author – Today, I booked the tickets to my first flight. Excited.

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