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59.72% HP: A Magical Journey [Complete] / Chapter 263: Diagon Alley Outing

Chapter 263: Diagon Alley Outing

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

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The link is also in the synopsis.

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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

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- Pass Grades -

OUTSTANDING (O)

EXCEEDS EXPECTATIONS (E)

ACCEPTABLE (A)

- Fail Grades -

POOR (P)

DREADFUL (D)

TROLL (T)

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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.

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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.

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Chapter 264: Return Of Noir

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

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

The link is also in the synopsis.

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"Quinn."

"Ivy."

A silence fell in the room with only the two in it. This was the first time the two talked or even met after their last contact in the Architect's vault.

"I got my results today," said Quinn, leaning against a display case in the middle of the room. "Did you get your OWL results?"

Ivy nodded, "We got them in the morning."

"How did you do?"

"Nine Outstandings and two Exceeds Expectations."

"Wow! Congratulations on finally becoming a NEWT student. That's one more OWL than I got," said Quinn. "Where did you get double-E subjects?"

"History of Magic and Arithmancy," Ivy said with a sigh.

"Ah, now that I remember, you're better at practical than theory, aren't you," said Quinn, causing Ivy to look at him with a glimmer in her eyes, "well, those nine fat-Os are going to pull up the Arithmany double-E, and History of Magic isn't really considered if you aren't going in a historical research subject. Even then, no one's going to complain seeing at double-E. Except for Professor Snape — he doesn't take anything less than Outstanding for his NEWT class."

"What about you? How did you do in your OWLs last year?" she asked.

"I got ten Outstandings. Unlike you, I only took ten subjects — no Muggle Studies and Divination for me."

"Hermione got eleven Os."

"Oh my, now that's an achievement worth bragging. If she only stuck with Divination, she would have got the entire dozen."

"How did she do?" asked Ivy.

Quinn's eye twitched. Here he avoided going to a certain topic area, and she just pulled the conversation dangerously close to it.

". . . I haven't met Daphne today," he said.

A half-smile of satisfaction appeared on Ivy's face. Quinn knew about her grades than Daphne's — now that was a small victory that she liked very much.

Quinn saw the smile and could practically read her mind off the expression. Did this girl have no tact or subtlety? He internally sighed — this was Ivy Potter; she did things head-on.

He decided to change the subject, "I heard your father was there at the carnival attack, how's he? I hope he didn't face any unfortunate mishaps."

"He's fine, thank you for asking. Thankfully, he didn't get injured," said Ivy, her voice losing its power as her gaze flitted around the room, looking anywhere but at him.

"I see. I'm glad that he's fine," said Quinn, berating himself for breaching an uncomfortable topic. "How's the summer going for you? Having fun after OWLs?"

Ivy sighed, "With Voldemort back. . . mum's a little worried about letting us go out — you know, Boy-Who-Lived and whatnot."

"True-true, so hold up at home, huh. How're your parents about wands at home?"

"Not allowed," Ivy said with her lips pinched together.

"Now, that's truly unfortunate," said Quinn. "I would've gone mad if I was not allowed magic while isolated in my home."

After that, both moved out of the backroom when they heard Lily call out from Ivy. They entered the front area of the store, which was still bustling with people (mostly children moving around to browse the stunning variety of products.)

"Yes, mum?" said Ivy.

"Ivy, there you are," said Lily, heaving a sigh of relief. "Where were you? I was looking for you!"

"I was in the backroom. You could've asked Harry; he would've told you."

"I couldn't reach your brother; it was too crowdy and loud, so I couldn't even call out to him," said Lily before her eye caught Quinn standing behind her daughter. "Quinn, what a surprise, how're you dear? Congratulations on the ten crowned Outstandings; Professor Flitwick was beside himself when he bragged about the results to us."

"Thank you, professor," said Quinn with a polite smile.

"You got ten crowns?!" said Ivy with her mouth slack — she had only got one crown for Transfiguration.

"He's been getting crowns on all his subjects for the past six years, dear," Lily revealed, smiling at her daughter's expression. "Another congratulations is in order," she continued turning back to Quinn.

There was more?! Ivy's eyebrows all but trying to disappear into her hairline.

"It wasn't actually a question, but congratulations for becoming the Headboy," said Lily smiling. "It was a unanimous decision; all Professor voted for you — well, Mr. Firenze abstained from voting as he didn't feel like he knew any of the Prefects well enough to vote."

Ivy's surprise melted away — it really wasn't a question. But she did give an impressed nod to Quinn for the unanimous decision.

"Thank you, professor. I'm honored with the trust that all of the faculty has shown towards me and will ensure to stand up to the standards," said Quinn with a short bow.

"Now-now, no need to be so formal," said Lily.

"Ivy!" The three turned to see Hermione walking towards them with an older couple following behind her. Hermione raised a small pink pot to show it to Ivy, "Look, what I found. Guaranteed ten-second pimple vanisher — Fred says that it works on everything from boils to blackheads."

Ivy nodded, gently took the pot from Hermione's hand before saying, "Quinn got ten crowned Os."

It took a moment for the brain of the smartest witch of her class to catch up, but when it did, her jaw dropped, "T-Ten c-crowns!"

"Dear me, that's a lot. Hermione got three crowns," said the woman behind Hermione. She had mid-length curly brown hair and big bright brown eyes.

Seeing that Hermoine was busy gaping at Quinn, Lily decided to do the introductions. "Quinn, this is Dr. Mary Granger and Dr. Richard Granger. Hermione's parents." She then turned to the Granger parents, "This is Quinn, a seventh-year at Hogwarts, the school Headboy, and the top student of his class."

"Good afternoon, Dr. and Dr. Granger. Hermione has told me about you," said Quinn.

"May I ask what she said?" asked Richard.

"That you're a Dental Surgeon while Dr. Mary is an Orthodontist," said Quinn.

"So you're also a muggleborn, Quinn. Where do you live?" asked Mary.

"No, ma'am; I come from a household with a long history of magic," said Quinn. "I would be what you call a pureblood."

"Then. . ."

Quinn smiled, "The non-magical is part of the world, and I wish to take whatever this world has to offer me."

Mary and Richard exchanged looks. It was the first time they had seen a Pureblood who actually knew what a dentist meant, much less terms like Dental Surgeon and Orthodontist being thrown out like they were the norm. Their only other experience were the Potters, Weasleys, and, unfortunately, the Malfoys — two out of the three had no idea what the non-magical world was actually like.

"That reminds me," said Quinn, taking out two cards from his pocket, handing them to the Granger parents. "I don't know if you have been approached, but my family runs a modest warding business," the Potter mother-daughter quirked their brows at the word modest coming out Quinn's mouth, "we offer a service to ward non-magical households and deliver a wide range of options that you can choose from."

Richard looked down and the card and did a double-take when he saw a phone number listed on the card. ". . . Your family business use telephones?" he asked in disbelief.

"Yes, we do. You can call that number to have a company representative come to your house and explain to you about our services, and you can also use the same number for customer services. You can also MagiFax or owl your requests, but we prefer MagiFax and calling."

Mary and Richard stared at Quinn, who seemed an oddity to them.

"May I also get a card," said Mama Potter, looking extremely interested in the warding service.

Quinn was more than happy to provide one, but as his hand went back after handing the card, a shrill sound went off in his head. He sucked a shuddered breath as his hand slowly dropped below.

"Quinn?" Ivy said when she saw Quinn's smile drop.

Quinn immediately pulled himself together and faced everyone. "It was lovely to meet all of you today, and I would love to continue to talk, but I have to, unfortunately, leave now."

Without waiting for a response, Quinn pushed his way through the crowd out of the store, disregarding Ivy's calls from inside the store. He ran through the Diagon Alley, ignoring the seedy amulet seller, who shouted at him and entered the same dark corner to which he had apparated into.

He detached his special pockets from his clothes, and immediately after, all of his clothes came undone from their seams, falling down to the floor. Quinn kicked his shoes off and pulled his socks off, leaving him only in his underwear. He stuffed all of his removed clothing into the special pocket and took out a white triangle patch made from stiff cloth, the size of his fist.

He slapped it on his chest, and a blue ripple went through the white patch as it expanded and stretched until Quinn's body was covered in spandex. Another blue surge and the spandex transformed into cargo trousers and a hooded military-style jacket over a skin-tight full-sleeved shirt that covered his head, hiding all of his hair, with black compression pants under the cargo pants.

Quinn stretched his fingers, setting the tactical gloves, and tapped his tactical boots' toe against the ground. He slapped his special pockets on the wall, which ate the pockets under Quinn's command.

He tapped the triangle patch, and a front mask covered his face.

Another tap and the white attire turned to black.

Noir Transformative Gear v2 was operational.

Invisible Vigilante had returned.

And with a pop, he was gone.

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- (Scene Break) -

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Aegis Warding Solutions, the West subsidiary that handled the warding business. The wards used in Aegis' products came from a comprehensive tome, an amalgamation of runes from multiple different runic languages. There wasn't a single warder hired by Aegis who had been completely able to figure out the wards that they inscribed.

Which was why they didn't know that every time they laid a warding scheme over a building, they left behind a backdoor. A backdoor that only one person knew existed. The person who created the Aegis warding system.

So when the wards over Ossuary, the home of the Bones family, were activated into defense activity, the backdoor with a certain rune code was triggered, sending an alert.

Quinn apparated on the grass and faced a mansion with a forest in the background. His eyes behind the mask frowned at the flickering dome over Ossuary — he could tell that the wards weren't broken through finding a weak point and exploiting it. . . no, the wards were brutally ripped apart with an aggressive force.

He only knew two people in the country capable of doing this, and Quinn knew which one of them was responsible for this.

. . .

Bellatrix Lestrange twirled her wand as she swayed to a hum she sang as she felt the wind caressing her face. She stared at the demolished door of the building through which her master had entered alone.

He had said: 'No one was allowed to enter as he dealt with Amelia Bones.'

His other servants (all lower than her, everyone was lower than her) all thought their master was going to execute the about to be elected-Minister.

But she knew that her beloved master would try to persuade Amelia Bones to join him and pledge her allegiance. She couldn't understand the reason behind her master's decision — maybe it was because she was a pureblood — whatever the reason, she knew that her master was always right.

"Lady Lestrange, should we go inside?"

Bellatrix didn't look back to face the Death Eater she didn't even know the name of. "No need. Master is invincible," her voice turned cold, "and master's orders are absolute; you're not even allowed to think about disobeying them."

"Y-Yes."

Bellatrix hummed in approval at the fear in the voice. Not even his servants were allowed to not fear her master.

She frowned when she felt the anti-apparition around they had set to not allow Bones escape flicker. "Hey, what are you guys doing? The ward is becoming shaky — can't you guys even do one simple job right?"

She had asked her master to bring along people like Rodolphus, Rabastan, and Augustus, who were competent and entirely loyal to him like her, but he refused, saying that he alone was enough and the nameless servants would be enough to cast the ward.

Bellatrix frowned when the ward began flickering more than before, and there was still no answer. She finally turned to face them — a Cruciatus or two were in order; maybe those would be enough to wake them up.

"You—"

The acidic words died in her mouth as she saw the five Death Eater standing in the places they had been before, but. . . all of them were encased in ice.

"What—"

Her words again died in her mouth as she felt something behind. Before her face could even show the change in expression, her magic reached her wand, and a shield manifested behind her.

However, the very next second, she felt the shield break and felt a jolt. She looked down and saw a glowing red sword coming out of her midriff. Bellatrix slowly turned her head and saw a black mask and pitch-black eyes staring at her from behind the mask.

She heard the figure in black click his tongue.

Bellatrix again channeled magic into her wand, but before she could even do half a cast, her wand was stripped out of her hand, and almost simultaneously, another red flash hit her, and the world started to go black. The last thing she saw was the black figure running inside the house, leaving behind a strong gust of wind that almost knocked her back.

". . . Master. . ."

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- (Scene Break) -

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Amelia Bones and Voldemort stared at each other.

The Dark Lord stood in the middle of the room while the Head of DMLE sat on the floor slumped against a wall.

"Amelia Bones. . . join me," said Voldemort. "You are pure of blood, so join the glorious cause, and you shall not only live past today, you'll gain endless glory as the Minister of Magic under my regime."

"I refuse," said Amelia instantly. "You killed my brother!"

"Edgar Bones, yes, I remember getting the news of his death," said Voldemort nonchalantly, "and his wife died along with, didn't she? Leaving behind a young child. Only if they bowed to me, they would have lived to see their child grow," he looked around, "where's that child?"

Amelia didn't answer and continued to glare. However, inside, she thanked the fates that Susan had gone to visit her friend Hannah.

"Do you not care about her?" asked Voldemort. "If you leave, she would truly be orphaned."

"She'll understand," Amelia spat.

Voldemort looked outside the window and felt the collapsing ward. "It looks like the Aurors are here." He looked back at Amelia, "It's a pity, if you agreed, we would've made this world a better place. But, you have made your choice. . . so today, I'll kill you and dump your body in front of your Aurors, let them see your lifeless body and despair before I wipe them out.

"Be grateful that you died by my noble hands."

He raised his bone wand towards Amelia, who decided to glare at Voldemort to not give him the satisfaction of breaking her spirit.

"Avada Ke—"

The wall to their left exploded into pieces, lifting up a cloud of dust and debris.

Voldemort looked to his side and thought it was an Auror, and then he felt a large amount of magic being coagulated — a sign of being cast. Two dozen ice spears came whistling towards him. Voldemort lazily raised a shield — these ice spears weren't even a threat. But to his surprise, the ice spears poofed into black clouds before they even hit the shield and covered his vision with an opaque haze.

He raised his magic to wipe away the haze but felt something cold. A corrosive spell solely cast to melt his body until nothing left assaulted his shield — this one was a bit of a threat. For a second, Voldemort was surprised that an Auror would cast such a 'vile' and 'dark' spell — he wouldn't have batted an eye if an Auror cast a killing curse at him to save their head, but this was something different — something that was cast to make him suffer.

He was interested to see who this Auror was. He flicked his wand, and the dark curse fizzled away. With a look, Voldemort vanished the haze.

And there stood the Auror. . . or he was expecting to see. Instead, he saw a man dressed in black kneeling by Amelia Bone's side.

Their eyes met for a split second before the man in black and Amelia Bones were both gone with a negligible pop.

Voldemort stayed still for a second. He walked to the window and saw what had happened to his Death Eaters. He saw Bellatrix bleeding out on the grass, but the others drew his attention.

"So that was the Invisible Vigilante. . . interesting."

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Quinn West - MC - Hurry! Hurry! Hurry!

Voldemort - Dark Lord - Plans need to be changed.

FictionOnlyReader - Author - I know you guys would've wanted a more direct confrontation, but this was more fitting. Also, like most times, the next chapter is going to explanations, talks, and reactions. So look forward for a few things that were missed cos of the action.

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-*-*-*-*-*-

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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!


CREATORS' THOUGHTS
FictionOnlyReader FictionOnlyReader

Just like always,

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