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59.5% HP: A Magical Journey [Complete] / Chapter 262: An Inspired QWASPP

Chapter 262: An Inspired QWASPP

If you want to read ahead, you can check out my Patreón @

[ https://www.patreón.com/fictiononlyreader ]

The link is also in the synopsis.

.

-*-*-*-*-*-

.

George and Lia walked in the corridors of West Manor.

"I'm a bit worried about him," said George.

"Why? What did he do now?" asked Lia, the twenty-seven-year-old, who looked to be in her early twenties.

"He's barely at home these days. He goes out in the morning to the gym of his; I'm already gone by the time he returns for breakfast. Then Rosey tells me that he goes out again soon after that only to return in time for supper."

"Does he say where he goes?"

"He names places, towns, cities, seaside ports; he has named almost every portion of the country. But that isn't much to go with."

"I'm sure he's just going to the Greengrass' place," Lia grinned, looping her arm with her grandfather.

George hummed.

"So, any idea what he's going to show us today?" she asked.

George shook his head. "Just that it's not something new. Or that what's he told Elliot."

"Then I hope it's something we already sell," sighed the person in charge of every subsidiary built for her brother's inventions. "Opening a new company every year's bothersome work, not to mention looking for the correct people to lead those companies. There are so many people with their top bunks empty."

"You can always pass one of them to Elliot."

"No, that won't be necessary," said Lia in firm refusal. She was trying to build a reputation in the West businesses that didn't have anything to do with her family name. She was secure enough to delegate responsibility to her subordinates, but passing on the companies assigned to her, which involved her baby brother's inventions, wasn't something she was going to do anytime soon. "Uncle Elliot oversees more than twice number companies than I do. He already makes it like I'm wet behind the ear; I don't want to make further fun of myself.

"Good," said George, satisfied, "if you accepted, I would've been disappointed." He didn't oversee any of the companies, but when he was working under his own father, he oversaw thrice as many companies as Lia and expected her to reach that level someday.

"Oh, we're here." Lia removed her arm from George's as the door to the room where they were going to spend the upcoming time came into view. "Let's see what he for us today."

Lia opened the door with George peering from above her head. They stared at a door standing in the middle of the room, and from behind the door, Quinn's face peaked out with a white sketch marker clenched between his teeth.

Quinn opened his mouth to speak, letting the maker fall, but it began to float up immediately after being let go. "Excellent time, both of you. I just finished putting the last touches on the product today; please gather around so that we can start this year's QWASPP."

"Now, what this might be?" asked Lia, moving around the cerulean blue door standing in its frame.

"It's a door," said Quinn, puffing his chest as he crossed his arms.

George brushed his hand against the door pane. "This is. . . not a good wood, neither is the craftsmanship. What is this made from?"

"Common Oak," said Quinn. "As for the craftsmanship, it's made like that purposefully."

"What does it do?" asked Lia excitedly as she wrapped an arm around Quinn's shoulder.

"Well, you might actually recognize it without me telling you," Quinn took out a skeletal key hanging from a thin chain from his pocket, and the moment George saw the gold glint of the metal, his eyes widened.

"Is that an Abate key?" George asked, taking the key into his hand.

"No," said Quinn chuckling, "while I would love to have a key that could access the Abate network, I don't have it." He smiled at the key, "Though, this key in your hand does work something like Abates."

Lia looked at the door, "You mean. . ."

"Grandfather, would you like to do the honors," said Quinn.

George nodded. He took the key to the door and used it to open the door with a click. He grabbed the doorknob above the keyhole and twisted it for the door to open to a back alley street.

"It's really like the Abate network," said George as he stepped out into the deserted street with Quinn and Lia following after him.

"Ah, so we are in North Yorkshire," said Quinn looking around.

Lia frowned, "Why do you say it like that?" Even George noticed how Quinn worded his sentence.

"Well, this is a QWASPP, so I'm going for something that we can sell," said Quinn. "Britain already has the floo network, and while walking through a door would be much better jumping into a fireplace, I don't think if we can take floo out of Britain. . . well, maybe we can, but that's not what I made this for."

"Then what?" asked Lia.

Quinn looked at George. "Grandfather, do you know what a Vanishing Cabinet is?"

George's eyes widen with realization. He looked at the door, then at the desolate street, then back at Quinn, who smiled.

"It's the best time to sell something like this," said Quinn.

"Uhm, what are we talking about here?" asked Lia.

"Vanishing Cabinets — are a pair of cabinets connected to each through the means of spatial magic that allow an object or person to enter one cabinet and exit through the other. They have been a popular household item to have during wars — they were especially favored here in Britain during the last war to escape using them when the Dark Lord and Death Eaters stuck."

"That doesn't make sense," said Lia, recalling one of her readings on the war, "didn't Death Eaters attacked people in their homes," she looked at the door, "if they had these. . . then why?"

". . . Because Vanishing Cabinets weren't commonplace," said George with somber tenor. "It requires considerable skill to craft a pair of working Vanishing Cabinets; not anyone can make those; as such, only a select few were able to get their hands on them."

Quinn added, "Moreover, Vanishing Cabinets weren't popular items outside wartime. They were much more common during Grindlewald's conquest that spanned more than two decades, but after in the time of peace, the market fell, and the craftsman stopped making them, and with time, they became rare, and so did the people who could build them.

"When the Dark Lord struck, there were only a few people who could build them, and even those could only produce at a limited rate, forget about training others. So only those with the gold and connections could get one built, and the rest were left without one. Peace was achieved again, but the Vanishing Cabinet went away with it as it did before.

". . . But as we know, the Dark Lord's recently ended his vacation and is back in the office, so. . ."

"It's the best time to sell," said Lia, repeating Quinn's words.

"Yes," said Quinn, grabbing the doorknob of the door, "this takes inspiration from the Abate network that it is indeed a network of doors. For the last week, I went around the country and built a limited network.

"How this work is that when a person opens a door, it connects to a random door on the network, which as you might have noticed," Quinn pointed around him, "are in deserted places, all covered by anti-non-magical wards, which eliminates the Vanishing Cabinet's weakness — that is, if you find the cabinet outside the house, opens you up to an ambush, but with random doors, you don't have that problem."

"What if someone finds all the doors in the network?" asked Lia.

"Doesn't matter," said Quinn, "if we add enough doors, it doesn't matter if you find them all if you don't have enough man to cover every one of them." He raised the key, "It wouldn't take a key to exit the house, just a secret password — but if you want to go back home — it will take the key held by the people who would be pre-connected to it and would require another secret password."

"You said something about the door being crafted the way it was?" asked George.

"Ah yes, that was for a showcase that any door could be on the network. It could be anything, anywhere, and one wouldn't know unless they used the door. Similarly, it could be any door in the house — a bathroom door, bedroom door, or even a door to the basement — it could also be a secret door hidden in any random wall."

The West exited the back alley and back to their house, closing the door behind them, after which Quinn showcased the randomized feature of the door, opening the door to a couple more places around the country that Quinn had visited via apparition and found the deserted places by flying while being invisible.

"I have a question," asked Lia, "how does this interact with the wards. What is stopping a person from using these doors to bypass the wards and arrive inside a house?"

"Good question," Quinn said, appreciating the question. "These doors can be tied into the wards. You can set the doors so that no one can come into the house using one of the outside doors — so only outgoing would be available. In fact, it's the recommended setting. If you get out of your house during danger, then don't return to the house for a while, and go somewhere else."

"The idea is good," said George, walking around the door. He stopped and opened the door, and without a key, it was just a normal door. "If we can construct a wide enough network, we would be able to turn it into something that would be very attractive to everyone."

"Yeah, about that. . . there is one teeny problem with this," said Quinn.

"What is it?" asked Lia, snapping out of her thoughts that went to how to set up a business around the door network.

"Only I'm able to build these doors," said Quinn.

The magic behind the connected doors came from four sources — spatial magic books, the Vanishing Cabinet technology, the Abate network, and finally, from the entrance tunnel of the Aquatic Vault.

He had started with studying spatial magic to solve the entrance tunnel in the Great Lake guarded by the Kraken, which would somehow switch going down to up. And after years of irregular research, Quinn was able to figure out how the entrance worked. During the progress of that research, Quinn came across the Abate network, and after dealing with Dolion, Quinn had spent a portion of his remaining time in Italy studying the Abate doors while he was alone with Aksel Thorn. The Vanishing Cabinet technology was easy to get his hands by paying for the manuals, and while he never went to the Vanishing Cabinet in Hogwarts, he knew everything about them.

The problem was that Quinn's approach was sophisticated because Quinn valued stability and the range of the door, which made it very difficult for a person to learn how to do it. It would require a magical with considerable skill to learn the method created by the sources, which is even individually challenging to learn, and to train someone in his technique would require money and a lot of time.

"I can make ten a day," said Quinn. He could make more, but only ten in the time he was willing to set aside for the venture. "Which isn't bad as in little more than three months, we can have a thousand doors across the country, which I think are more than enough for the initial stage.

"After that, we can take orders from the customers, and I can continue to make ten a day that would be installed inside the customer's home. If we started early, by the same time next year, we would have covered a lot of people all around Britain."

George stayed silent for a while before saying, "The fact that you have presented to us, it means that you require something from us, or you would've done it on your own."

Quinn nodded.

"What do you require from us?" asked Lia.

"I don't want this to be connected to the Wests or even me and want the manufacturer to be a mystery, and for that to happen, I would require the family's help." Quinn didn't want to involve his family in the war, but it would prevent multiple people from becoming victims of the upcoming raids if this was implemented.

George held his hands behind his back, staring at the door for a good while. ". . . It is easy enough to do," he said, "I can make it so that West wouldn't be connected to your doors. Even if someone tried to dig out the truth, they would only find themselves in a labyrinth. However, I have a condition."

"Please say so. If it's something I can do, I'll do it," said Quinn.

George turned to his grandson and spoke in his serious-business voice. "You're to give me a promise that I can call in later."

Quinn tilted his head. That's it? He was absolutely fine with that. "I accept your condition," he said.

"Then the deal is made," George said. "You make these doors, and I personally will make sure that a secret operation is ready for you to spread this product."

In the future, a mysterious group would start to sell their escape services. The secretive group and their network of doors would infamously be known by a common name — The Labyrinth.

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-*-*-*-*-*-

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Quinn West - MC - I'm always working on the old projects.

George West - Grandfather - Now has a promise from his grandson.

Lia West - Elder Sister - Handles all of the businesses that sell Quinn's products.

FictionOnlyReader - Author - The reason why Quinn accepted was that it was asked by his grandfather. He doesn't mistrust George at all. Quinn would have rejected if some asked him; he would have put it down if they asked him of a promise, essentially a blank cheque.

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-*-*-*-*-*-

.

If you have any ideas regarding the magic you want to see in this fiction or want to offer some ideas regarding the progression. Move onto the DISCORD Server and blast those ideas.

The link is in the synopsis!


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Chapter 263: Diagon Alley Outing

If you want to read ahead, you can check out my Patreón @

[ https://www.patreón.com/fictiononlyreader ]

The link is also in the synopsis.

.

-*-*-*-*-*-

.

It was a fine Sunday morning.

Quinn sat on the breakfast table with a Quibbler issue in one hand that detailed the 'research trip' that the Lovegood family had taken to the lovely country of Sweden and a glass of apple juice in the other.

"Oh, this is a fun one," said Quinn, reading a column by Luna. "Did you know that more than half of Sweden is covered in forest, which equates to around the same size area-wise to the entirety of Britain? That's a lot of forest."

There was a light popping sound inches over the table, and a stack of letters fell onto an empty spot (courtesy of Polly.) Elliot, who sat closest to the pile, reached over and picked it up. He looked at the name on every envelope and passed them onto their intended recipients seated around the table.

"Oh, it's a letter from Hogwarts," said Elliot, looking at the last letter from Elliot.

Quinn, Ms. Rosey, and George all looked away from their reading material up at Elliot, who held a large square envelope. "It must be your results," said George for a sharp interest to appear in Ms. Rosey's eyes.

Elliot passed the letter above to the table to Quinn.

"Hmm? There's something hard inside here," said Quinn, as he pressed the letter with his fingers. He made a swiping line with a finger, and the top crease of the letter tore away as if cut open with a letter-opener. Quinn titled the envelope for a badge to fall into his other palm.

"Oh, it's a Headboy badge," said Quinn, holding the circular badge by the edges.

"Congratulations, young master," Elliot said with a proud smile. Ms. Rosey and George's congratulations followed.

"Thank you. You know what this means, right?" Quinn showed them the badge. "Any guesses? No? Okay, I'll tell you. This means I'm going to get my own suite with my own bedroom. . . ah, I'm going to get my own bedroom. . ."

"What happened?" asked George as Quinn trailed off.

"I will have to move out of the dorm," said Quinn, "which means I won't be living with Eddie and Marcus. . . ugh, now I'm not sure if I want to move out." He slept in the same room with his best friend for the majority of the year — in the six years Eddie, Marcus, and he had been roommates, Quinn had come to his room at home to be less 'his room' than their dorm room in Hogwarts.

"You can tell them that you won't be needing the Headboy suite," said George, a former resident of said suite.

"Hmm? No, no, I still want the Headboy suite, but I also want to have a spot in the dorm — I fear that if I exit the dorm, they'll assign another roommate to Eddie and Marcus." Quinn held his chin in thought before shrugging, "I'll write a letter and see what happens.

"Now, let's see how I did this year." He pulled out the parchment inside and unfolded it.

-

Hogwarts End-Of-Term Results Sixth Year

.

- Pass Grades -

OUTSTANDING (O)

EXCEEDS EXPECTATIONS (E)

ACCEPTABLE (A)

- Fail Grades -

POOR (P)

DREADFUL (D)

TROLL (T)

.

Quinn West has achieved:

Arithmancy — O*

Astronomy — O*

Ancient Runes — O*

Care of Magical Creatures — O*

Charms — O*

Defense Against the Dark Arts — O*

Herbology — O*

History of Magic — O*

Potions — O*

Transfiguration — O*

* - Highest Score In The Year.

-

Quinn read the last line on the parchment before once again over his grades. He nodded in satisfaction. "Another year with all big-Os with stars on top," he said, announcing his grades to his family.

Ms. Rosey all but snatched the result parchment when Quinn handed it over and looked squinted her eyes to look if he had left smudges on the parchments — dirty spots would need to be fixed before she added it to Quinn's academic folder of report cards.

"Are you going to change any of your classes this year?" asked George. "You said that you have been wondering about dropping Care. . . and that for a couple years now."

"True. I have been on the fence for that a couple years now, but there's only one year left, so I'll just take the class, and with Rebeus Hagrid teaching Care, something interesting is sure to pop here and there." Quinn stood up from his chair. "Now, if you'd excuse me, I have an appointment that I have to attend. Ms. Rosey, I won't return until evening, so no need to prepare lunch for me."

"Where are you going?" asked Ms. Rosey.

"I was invited to see how my very first investment turned out," said Quinn smiling.

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- (Scene Break) -

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Quinn stepped out of a dark corner of Diagon Alley that he had just apparated into and stepped into the main street. He looked up and sighed at how the sunny morning had turned overcast in the span of mere minutes. If there was one thing he didn't enjoy about his home was how much it rained.

He looked away from the murky clouds and took in the market area.

Diagon Alley had changed. The colorful, glittering window displays of spellbooks, potion ingredients, and cauldrons were lost to view, hidden behind the large Ministry of Magic posters that had been pasted over them. Most of these somber purple posters carried blown-up versions of the security advice on the Ministry pamphlets that had been sent out over the summer, but others bore moving black-and-white photographs of Death Eaters known to be on the loose. Bellatrix Lestrange was sneering from the front of the nearest apothecary. A few windows were boarded up, including those of Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor, which Quinn had heard had been dragged off by Death Eaters, making him wonder what Death Eaters wanted from the ice cream vendor.

On the other hand, several shabby-looking stalls had sprung up along the street. The nearest one, which had been erected outside Flourish and Blotts, under a striped, stained awning, had a cardboard sign pinned to its front:

AMULETS: Effective Against Werewolves, Dementors, and Inferi.

A seedy-looking little wizard was rattling armfuls of silver symbols on chains at passersby.

"One for you, lad?" he called at Quinn as he passed by, leering at him up and down.

Quinn raised his hand and revealed a sneakily transfigured copy of the seedy amulet vendors' product sitting in his palm. He pointed further down the street. "There's a lady there selling the same stuff, but much cheaper than here. You might want to fix your prices, slash them in half, mister, and maybe then someone will buy something."

Of course, everything he said was complete hippogriff shit — Quinn either wanted the man to look at the supposed competition and leave his stall alone, which Quinn was sure (from a little wide-area Legelimency) would be upturned by the similarly seedy neighborhood stalls. Even if the man didn't leave his cart, there was a chance he would take his word and slash his price by half and make a lesser profit from his fraudulent deals.

Quinn didn't wait to see what the seedy man did. He was satisfied that he had been able to plant a seed of doubt in the man's mind.

He passed by another shop and stopped to gaze at the closed Ollivander's. There were no signs of struggle, which was a positive sign. 'I hope he took my advice,' he thought, thinking about the wandmaker, who loved his job a bit too much.

"Well, I'll find about it when the school starts," he sighed. A fleeting can on a couple of first years would reveal the status of the wandmaker.

He moved along the street, looking at the increasing number of wanted and warning posters on every single shop until he came across a fork in the road.

"Whoa- hohoho," said Quinn, stopping in his tracks.

Set against the dull, poster-muffled shop fronts around them, the shop's windows in front of his eyes hit the eye like a firework display. Casual passersby were looking back over their shoulders at the windows, and a few rather stunned-looking people had actually come to a halt, transfixed. The left-hand window was dazzlingly full of an assortment of goods that revolved, popped, flashed, bounced, and shrieked; Quinn's eyes began to water just looking at it. The right-hand window was covered with a gigantic poster, purple like those of the Ministry, but emblazoned with flashing yellow letters:

WHY ARE YOU WORRYING ABOUT YOU-KNOW-WHO?

YOU SHOULD BE WORRYING ABOUT U-NO-POO —

THE CONSTIPATION SENSATION THAT'S GRIPPING THE NATION!

Quinn burst into a chortle. "Oh boy, these two are going to be murdered in their beds," he said with a smile as he walked towards the shop, which he had brought last year so that he could rent it to the Weasley's.

He entered the shop, and it was packed with customers; Quinn could not get near the shelves. He stared around, looking up at the boxes piled to the ceiling: Here were the Skiving Snackboxes that the twins had perfected during last year; Quinn noticed that the Nosebleed Nougatwas most popular, with only one battered box left on the shelf — he had worked on those with the twins. There were bins full of trick wands, the cheapest merely turning into rubber chickens or pairs of briefs when waved, the most expensive beating the unwary user around the head and neck, and boxes of quills, which came in Self-Inking, Spell-Checking, and Smart-Answer varieties.

Quinn clasped his hands behind his back and stepped forwards. The crowed unknowingly parted, making a path straight to the front counter, where a gaggle of delighted ten-year-olds was watching a tiny little wooden man slowly ascending the steps to an actual set of gallows, both perched on a box that read: REUSABLE HANGMAN — SPELL IT OR HE'LL SWING!

He looked above the kids, and a large display near the counter caught his eyes. He read the information on the back of a box bearing a highly colored picture of a handsome youth and a swooning girl standing on the deck of a pirate ship.

"Daydream Potion. . . one swig and you will enter a top-quality, highly realistic, thirty-minute daydream, easy to fit into the average school lesson and virtually undetectable (side effects include vacant expression and minor drooling). Not for sale to under-sixteens.

"Oh my, isn't this a crafty little one," he reached into the display and picked out a clear vial with the pinkish-purple liquid inside. He effortlessly undid the anti-theft charm on the vial, uncorked it, and tipped a tablespoon's worth onto his tongue. "Hmm. . . ah, so that's what they used, huh. That's nice."

He smiled when he heard the voice of one of the brothers.

"No, kid, we don't have a telescope that tells you the answer, but we have one that would punch you in the eye if you use it." A smiling Fred stood in front of him, wearing a set of magenta robes that clashed magnificently with his flaming hair.

"Now, wouldn't you look at that, Mr. Big-shot business owner," said Quinn.

Fred turned Quinn, and his eyes widened to see Quinn. "Quinn, you're here! When did you arrive?" he asked as he pushed his way to the counter.

"Just now," said Quinn and tossed the Daydream vial to Fred. "Switch the rugweed with possumhaw, and that would fix the drooling. Also, get a better anti-theft spell, this one's embarrassingly easy to break."

Fred blinked at the potion vial in his palm before looking at Quinn. "Come one, leave something for others, would you," he sighed before perking back up. "Come on, let me take you to George, and show you the thing we wrote to you about."

Quinn followed Fred toward the shop's back, where he saw a stand of card and rope tricks.

"Oh, are these non-magical tricks?" asked Quinn, picking up a deck of cards. "Let me guess, this one's a marked deck?"

"Muggle magic tricks!" said Fred happily, pointing them out. "For freaks like Dad, you know, who love Muggle stuff — and well, people like you. It's not a big earner, but we do fairly steady business; they're great novelties."

"Hey. . . I'm not a freak," said Quinn, "I'm just your average card geek."

Suddenly, a curtain was pushed to the side, and George peaked out. "Oh, Quinn, you're here. Welcome-welcome." he shook Quinn's hand. "Come in, come in. Let me show you the real money maker."

They went into a darker, less crowded room. The packaging on the products lining these shelves was more subdued.

"We've just developed this more serious line," said Fred. "Funny how it happened . . ."

"You wouldn't believe how many people, even people who work at the Ministry, can't do a decent Shield Charm," said George. Of course, they didn't have someone like you teaching them."

"That's right. . . . Well, we thought Shield Hats were a bit of a laugh, you know, challenge your mate to jinx you while wearing it and watch his face when the jinx just bounces off. But the Ministry bought five hundred for all its support staff! And we're still getting massive orders!"

"So we've expanded into a range of Shield Cloaks, Shield Gloves . . ."

". . . I mean, they wouldn't help much against the Unforgivable Curses, but for minor hexes or jinxes . . ."

"And then we thought we'd get into the whole area of Defense Against the Dark Arts because it's such a money-spinner," continued George enthusiastically. "This is cool. Look, Instant Darkness Powder, we're importing it from Peru. Handy if you want to make a quick escape."

"And our Decoy Detonators are just walking off the shelves, look," said Fred, pointing at several weird-looking black horn-type objects that were indeed attempting to scurry out of sight. "You just drop one surreptitiously, and it'll run off and make a nice loud noise out of sight, giving you a diversion if you need one."

"Handy," said Quinn, satisfied with their business sense.

"Here," said Fred, catching a couple and throwing them to Fred.

"At this rate, you're going to become defense contracts first and joke shop later," said Quinn, pocketing the items.

"No," smiled George as he dusted a Shield Glove, "these were fun to make, but as expected, the stuff that's outside was a hundred times more fun to make."

Fred nodded, "The joke items might not make as much money as these things, but they're what we opened this shop for."

Quinn raised his hands, "Hey, I'm the silent W in the triple W coalition. You guys do whatever you want, and if you want some help, and I'm here to provide that." He looked at Instant Darkness Powder and Decoy Detonators, "You know, we can sort of combine those two — sort of — well turn them into a flashbang."

"Flashbang?"

"Uh-huh, instead of darkness, you use a strong and sudden burst of light that would momentarily blind a target which would be launched in succession with a loud burst of sound, disrupting the hearing — causing pain, buzzing, and maybe even an inner-ear imbalance."

A young witch with short blonde hair poked her head around the curtain;

Quinn saw that she, too, was wearing magenta staff robes. "Uhm, there's —"

She stopped when the curtain was pushed aside, and a couple more heads poked inside.

"There you are," said Ron Weasley, "I have been looking all over for you — it's blimey crowded outside." The redhead, younger Weasley, then noticed that his brother had company, "What are you doing here?"

"To be fair," said Fred and George finished, "this is his building."

"Hello, Ronald," said Quinn turned to the spectacled boy beside him, "Harry," the curly-haired girl peeking over Ron's shoulder, "Hermione," then he saw the freckled Weaslette pushing her to the front, "Ginny," and finally his eye went to the girl with red hair and green eyes, ". . . Ivy."

"There's a customer out here looking for a joke cauldron, Mr. Weasley and

Mr. Weasley," said the store employee.

"Right you are, Verity, I'm coming," said George promptly. "Quinn, you

help yourself to anything you want, all right? No charge." He turned to his younger brother, "You're going to pay double, Ron."

"Why?!"

Fred followed after his brother and patted Ron's shoulder as the twin went out, "We're a business, dear young brother. If we're going to make a profit, we would need to charge more — and who else to charge but family." He turned to the girls, "Ladies, would you like to see our WonderWitch product line — they're very potent and very popular."

Ron followed after George to find if the family markup was a joke or serious; Harry tagged along with him. Hermione and Ginny followed after Fred to see the WonderWitch products; however. . .

"I'll be there in a bit," said Ivy.

Hermione looked between Quinn and Ivy. She nodded before leaving the two behind.

"Quinn," said Ivy.

"Ivy," Quinn greeted her back again.

.

-*-*-*-*-*-

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Quinn West - MC - Headboi! Building Owner! Investor! Silent W!

Fred & George - Entrepreneurs - Mr. Weasley & Mr. Weasley.

Ms. Rosey - Scrapbooker - Has all of Quinn's reports card preserved.

FictionOnlyReader - Author - Next chapter, we're going to see something very exciting. . . and no, it's not going to do anything a certain redhead. It's time for the return.

.

-*-*-*-*-*-

.

If you have any ideas regarding the magic you want to see in this fiction or want to offer some ideas regarding the progression. Move onto the DISCORD Server and blast those ideas.

The link is in the synopsis!


CREATORS' THOUGHTS
FictionOnlyReader FictionOnlyReader

Just like always,

Review, comment, add to the library, and share this fic.

Thx

Link To Discord

https://discord.gg/w5dJ82SfMr

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