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77.6% HP: A Magical Journey [Complete] / Chapter 342: Visible Vigilante

Chapter 342: Visible Vigilante

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 pulled the Noir gear off of him in one of the many alleyways that he had ended up memorizing in cases he needed an empty place. . . for situations like the current one.

"That was close."

He hadn't expected the Aurors to spot him and chase him down while they were on the Death Eater transport assignment. So it surprised him to see two Senior Aurors and a Captain Auror on his pursuit.

"I need to figure out a better invisibility spell. . . these ones aren't clearly working under high speeds."

He had thought that the night of the sky would work for him to cover up for the limitations of the spell, but his assumption was faulty— at least, the Aurors were able to spot him. It didn't help when an Auror was actively looking for him.

"Damn, Aurors. Why couldn't they just do their job? Why do they need to follow me— this is all Amelia Bones' fault— why did she have to set up a task force."

It was clear from Shackelbolt's words that the Aurors Office wanted the information they thought he had. They were even willing to strike a deal.

'Though I can't think Rufus Scrimgeour would be willing to strike a deal with a vigilante out of his control.' The new Head of DMLE didn't seem to be a negotiating person. Which meant that Amelia Bones must've really rallied for the task force, thought Quinn.

He stepped out of the alleyway into a partially busy street and began wandering around without a destination in mind. He didn't want to return home just yet with his filled with thoughts swirling with Aurors, Death Eaters, and Invisible Vigilante. So he decided to have a walk to clear up his head.

His thoughts soon wandered to the chase. Quinn wondered if his choice to drop into the town was correct, or should he have continued flying and tried something else.

'It was luck that the alleyway had a manhole cover, or things would've gotten real ugly fast.'

The escape through the manhole cover was a way for him to leave the conflict without violence. It was clear to Quinn that if he hadn't found the manhole cover and escaped using the sewers— a fight would've ensued, and because of his choice, the location would've been a town instead somewhere detached from the general population. There would've been property damage and even a possibility of a non-magical getting implicated and injured.

Quinn didn't want that to happen. He was confident that even with three trained Aurors, who probably had more technical and practical experience than him, he would've come out victorious. He was comfortable in the Invisible Vigilante's fighting style and magical usage— it wasn't an overreach to say that he was more familiar with it than he was with 'Quinn West's' fighting style.

But Quinn preferred to avoid violence and destruction. He wasn't very keen to leave a magical footprint in such a way that would harmful attention to the magical world and take work to cover and fix it up. And Quinn's fight with the three Aurors would've done substantial damage to the town.

'If that happened, the lenient Auror's department could turn their stance.' Which was something Quinn didn't want as it not only made him a prime enemy for the Death Eaters but also a target of capture for the Auror— who would remove the 'handle with care' sticker from the box he was.

"Who knew that being a vigilante, an outlaw, would have to worry about so many things. This job is tougher than I thought it would be."

But, Quinn was sure that now that the Invisible Vigilante would be appearing more and more from now on.

"I wonder. . . how would this shape things up."

For now, he had other work to do.

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- (Scene Break) -

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"He escaped?" said Amelia Bones to four Aurors sitting in the conference room with her. She looked down at the report and expanded, "Escaped through. . . the sewers."

She looked at Rufus Scrimgeour, Kingsley Shackelbolt, James Potter, and Sirus Black.

"How did he manage to escape a Captain Auror and two Senior Auror when they had managed to trap him in an alleyway?"

The Aurors remained silent, with Scrimageour looking at his subordinates, looking for answers.

"He got lucky, ma'am," started Sirius, "if he hadn't found that exit, we would've him a room with us— making him spill all of his secrets."

"That sounds like an excuse, Auror Black. I do not like excuses, you know that, right?"

"Yes, Minister."

Amelia sighed. They had come this close to the Invisible Vigilante, but he had again slipped away. She picked up the report and glanced through it when she found a line that jumped out off the page.

"He can fly?" she looked up at three Aurors who were part of the confrontation. "What does this mean? He wasn't using a broom?"

"He wasn't on a broom; we can say that with certainty," James nodded. "There were many observations that led us to believe that the Invisible Vigilante can fly without the use of a broom. First, Junior Auror Graham reported that he found the Invisible Vigilante standing atop the prisoner cage, visible— there was no broom in his possession."

Sirius picked up from there, "When I spotted him initially, I kept an eye on him, and from the distortions in the magic, I could tell that he wasn't on a broom. It got progressively clearer when we were chasing him that he wasn't using one. Then he was completely exposed when he dropped his disillusionment, and there was no broom anywhere near him."

"Unaided flight?!"

Amelia knew surprise when she felt it. A wizard who could fly without a broom? That was something she didn't think she would listen to today. It was a long established fact that unaided flight wasn't something possible ever in the history of magic.

"No, it wasn't unaided flight," said Shacklebolt. "Yes, he didn't use a broom, but the magic he used wasn't true flight magic. We can confidently say that the Invisible Vigilante is a master in using wind magic. He used wind magic to get rid of the Death Eater—"

"— How many of the Death Eaters were we able to find?" asked Amelia. The report didn't mention what had happened or what was the progress of the Death Eaters that had initiated the attack.

"We are trying to find them. . . it is difficult to find them when they were whipped out by a wind tornado," said Sirius. "If they made it alive, it would be too late to find them, but if they didn't, we will either get to them first, or there will be news in the muggle newspaper."

Amelia massaged her index finger on her temple.

"This will be a problem," she said to Scrimgeour— but her tone was more of asking.

Scrimgeour nodded his cold lion-like eyes looking indifferent, "If we find a dead Death Eater," and from the look of it, he didn't mind finding one, "it would open a case— or multiple— of murder against the Invisible Vigilante. If that happens, the current policy would need to go an overhaul."

"I know, of course, I know," she sighed. Amelia wanted to say that she hoped there would be no dead bodies but couldn't say it because that would show an unfavorable amount of favor for someone whose every appearance was associated with breaking laws.

"What should be our stance on this?" asked Kingsley. "The incident is going to be leaked to the public sooner or later— we can put a gag order on it and stop it for a while, but if it gets out after a wait— the impact is going to be larger than before, and we will have to answer why we hid the matter in the first place."

"Don't do that. Tell your teams not to talk about it, but don't mention that it's official. There will be no official memo on the matter," Scrimgeour fiddled with the ring on his finger. "For now, what we can do is to put the information as sensitive as part of an ongoing investigation."

"That seems to be the best course of action," Amelia agreed.

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- (Scene Break) -

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Rivers Lock sat down in the Malfoy lounge with a drink in his hand, picked from the Malfoy cellars. He let down his shoulders as he relaxed and raised his glass to take a sip, but before the rim could reach his lips, a voice sounded.

"What did you find?"

Rivers hand paused and glanced towards the source and saw Peter Pettigrew sitting on a chair in the corner, covered in darkness.

"I can switch on the lights if you want," asked Rivers.

"You went fact-finding, did you not?" said Pettigrew. "Does the DMLE have anything on the Invisible Vigilate?"

Rivers lifted his glass again and took a sip, savoring it before he finally answered, "They know nothing other than that he can fly."

"We also know that. What else?"

"It seems that some of Auror chased after the Invisible Vigilante; they had some sort of confrontation— the details on that are tight— but the clear thing is that they couldn't capture him. He gave Potter, Black, and Shacklebolt the slip."

Pettigrew showed no emotion, but there was a light in his eyes.

"How many of them have returned?" asked Rivers.

"Half of them."

"What do you think about the other half?"

Peter shrugged, "They're either dead, or they deserted in fear of retaliation from the Lord. The news of Lucius' punishment had an. . . effect—"

Rivers took it from there, "If Lucius Malfoy can't escape the punishment, then what about them. . . . They might have thought running would be a chance to break away."

"Fools," scoffed Pettigrew. "By running away, they have brought upon death upon them. When the Lord returns, he will hunt them down."

"Or they could be dead."

"They could be."

Rivers took a sip and let the silence swirl. "When's the Lord going to return?"

"That. . . only he knows."

"What is he doing."

Pettigrew stared at Rivers with a flat smile, "You could've asked these questions to him rather than trying to get information from me."

"Nothing like that," said Rivers with a similar smile. "I missed the timing to ask the questions, and you're his trusted. . . so you'd know. Am I wrong?"

"Who knows. . . who knows," said Pettigrew, his smile growing more plastic.

"About the Invisible Vigilante. . ." Rivers knew that he wasn't going to get more answers from Pettigrew, so he switched the topic. "Who is he? I have been trying to find his identity, but no one seems to even know the color of his hair."

". . . He's a mystery," said Pettigrew. "The fact that he dared to face the Dark Lord means that he is either confident in his magic to get alive, or he's an idiot. I'm betting on the former."

"How do you think the Lord's going to react to this?"

"He has been neutral about the Invisible Vigilante. . . which I find uncharacteristic for him. He has been a hindrance one too many times. . . I do not know why I haven't seen a single shred of anger or even annoyance. I do not know what he's thinking."

Rivers sipped his drink. Unlike Pettigrew, he had seen something in the Dark Lord's eyes.

Curiosity.

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Quinn West - MC - I wonder a lot

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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 343: Two Tracks Merging

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 walked down the stairs of his briefcase. Ever since Hogwarts, it had become a place where he spent substantial time. After all, the entirety of his research had shifted from the AID workshop and the Room of Requirement to the corridor of rooms present inside the expanded confines of the briefcase.

He stopped in front of a royal blue door with a pearl white owl with intelligent human-like eyes. The owl seemed angry and stared at Quinn with a piercing glare. Thinking of the inspiration behind the door art made a blissful smile bloom on Quinn's face. He opened the door and stepped into the pitch dark room with the open door as the only source of light.

It shined a light on the world on the sole object in the room.

"Wake up," he said.

The white-bearded man in the magical portrait roused from his sleep and cracked open his eyes, narrowing them to adjust to the light. When he looked at Quinn, the blank face turned into one of great anger, so much so that the man's pale skin flushed red.

"You!" thundered Merlin, as if wanting to break out of the photo frame. "Who do you think you are?! I am Merlin, the Grand Sorcerer of the King Author's Court! The premiere Enchanter of the free lands. How dare you imprison me in here? Release me at once or face the wrath of magic and nature's smite!"

Quinn's chuckled.

"What is so amusing," Merlin's voice seemed filled with poison.

"Oh, nothing much," Quinn clapped his hands for the MLEs in the room lit up. "This makes me cognizant of the fact that the development of magic didn't end with your death. The fact that there's so much more magic that you don't know, but I do— that brings me so much elation."

Portrait magic had much progress after Merlin's death. While he could travel to every portrait in Hogwarts, but if his image was taken out of Hogwarts, Merlin wasn't able to return to the castle. On the other hand, Phineas Black, a Hogwarts headmaster, could travel between his portrait in the headmaster's office and the one in the Grimmauld Palace.

When Quinn found that interesting fact, he exploited it to exact some revenge.

"How was it? Feeling panic, anxiety, and fear after so much time— all those emotions that must've become foreign to you after so much time. You had wide access in Hogwarts— the means to go anywhere, and everywhere you wanted. . . . But here you are, having all that taken away— locked in a room by a person who has a grudge against you, hates you even. . . not knowing if you'd ever see anything other than the blackness of the dark.

How does it feel? I hope it was jolly fun."

Quinn knew he was getting revenge against a portrait— an image of Merlin— and not the real man, but it sated his need for the sweet payback.

Merlin gritted his teeth. The ancient wizard's blue eyes seemed to be burning cold flame. He took a deep breath and retreated to a stoic appearance.

Quinn didn't mind that and conjured a chair in front of the floating portrait.

"I have some questions to ask," said Quinn nonchalantly, as if he couldn't see the anger.

"Why would I answer you?!"

"Do you want to spend the rest of eternity in darkness? If that's the case, I'm happy to give you some privacy."

Merlin seemed that he didn't want anything more than to cast Killing Curse from his eyes.

Seeing that Merlin didn't have anything to speak, Quinn continued, "What can you tell me about spatial magic."

"Spatial magic," Merlin's glare softened only a smidge. "What do you want to know?"

"I'm currently dwelling more into the intricacies of spatial magic. I thought, who better start than the Grand Sorcerer of the King Author's Court! The premiere Enchanter of the free lands. So how about it, Mr. Big Shot, what can your old wise magically created head teach the young naive me— I see thy guidance."

". . . I spent time researching the secrets of spatial magic. While I can't demonstrate them, I can guide you to the correct course— help you not stray from the wrong paths."

"That would be great," smiled Quinn, folding his legs and taking out a small notebook and pen.

"What would I get?" Merlin spoke the second Quinn stopped.

Quinn quirked a brow, "Do you want to spend another indefinite amount of time locked here in this room?"

"I want to be given some freedom. I want you to give me access to a place with many portraits and charm them so I can pass through them."

"You're in no condition to negotiate, portrait."

"But I'm no ordinary portrait, am I, Mr. Quinn West," said Merlin with his eyes full of confidence. "I have a horde of knowledge inside me that you can't extract. . . only I can give them to if I wish to do so."

"You don't know that. I have a way to turn you into something that would answer every question of mine."

"Oh, but you don't. You wouldn't be here talking to me if you had a way to do that. I won't pretend to know you inside out, but I have observed enough to know that if you had a way, you would have already used it. I would "

Quinn sighed and closed the notebook with the pen as a bookmark. "Why couldn't you be more gullible. . . . I'll give you access to one more frame— ask any more than that, and I'll leave you here. How about it."

Merlin nodded, seemingly satisfied.

"Good, then let's continue," said Quinn while thinking, 'I guess the portrait isn't the same as the real thing— he didn't make me specify the place.

"What do you want to learn?"

"Tell me about the Taboo curse. . ."

Then the lecture began.

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- (Scene Break) -

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Quinn was at the breakfast table eating his breakfast while reading the newspaper when George came into the room fully dressed and looking ready to leave.

"You're going somewhere?" asked Quinn.

"Germany," said George tersely.

"Oh, a nice business deal?"

"No, a problem."

Quinn quirked his brow but didn't look up from the papers. "What happened? Someone made a mistake?"

"No. But half our partner alliances in Germany suddenly pulled out doing business with us. . . all together yesterday morning."

That made Quinn's both brows shoot up. "What? Half! What happened?"

"The Dark Lord happened."

". . . The Dark Lord?" Quinn dropped everything and solely concentrated on the conversation.

"He went to Germany and swayed the pureblood supremacist to drop business with us; those he wasn't able to get, he threatened," George didn't sound happy.

Quinn knew that there were not many things that would make his grandfather angry— and business going bad was a thing that always made him furious.

"Why would the Dark Lord suddenly attack our business?"

"To get me off his back, of course. Do you know how much work and effort it is going to rebuild our business? I can't bring back our partners; I can't trust them. Finding new ones that could match them would take a great amount of vetting and due diligence, and even then, it is going to be a while before we reach the same revenue benchmarks.

I knew I shouldn't have gone the alliance route and built our own. Why did I expect competence and honor from those bigoted morons?"

"So the Dark Lord thought you'd be hurting his operations here, so decided to disrupt your in another country to occupy your time. . . . What are you going to do?"

"I am going to take care of Germany, of course. I'm not going that mad man ruin my business anymore; he has already done enough of that. When I'm done in Germany, I will pull his operation here Death Eater by Death Eater."

". . . Or, I take over the retaliation against the Dark Lord and his Death Eaters."

George turned his stern eye to Quinn, his eyes narrowing. "Didn't I say we were going to stay away."

"I'll stay away. I'm just going to follow what you'd do and not the bone-breaking you think I'm going for. I will handle matters. . . peacefully— Mahatama Gandhi— non-violence. All that stuff that you love. How about it?"

"I'm not sure—"

"I am an adult, grandfather. I have plenty of experience using favors, I'm charming, and well, I know Legilimency, and as long it is for a just cause, I'm willing to offer my services as Legilimens. And what cause more just than to bring trouble to the Dark Lord. So what you say, shall we show the Dark Lord the might of the Wests."

If George's face was any indication, he wasn't impressed. ". . . I do not like it," he said.

"But you know I'll be good at it."

There was a long silence in which Quinn and George stared at each other, smiling other severe, until George sighed, "You can do it."

"Thank you!"

"But. . ."

"There's always a but," Quinn sighed.

"You'll do things the way I say you do. Meaning that you'll go to the people I send you to do what I want you to do. I'll leave it to you how you want to accomplish my given tasks, but other than that, you'll have no additional input. Agreed?"

"So, I'm going to your execution man."

". . . I wouldn't put it in those words, but yes."

"Alright. . . I agree. Your wish will be my command."

"My commands will be your commands."

"Oh, come on, we had a good thing going on."

George shook his head. He picked up the cup of juice that Polly had packed him and left without saying another word.

"Well, that was great. Now both of me can get involved."

Quinn West in meetings, behind the doors, cracking down on influential people's authority. Invisible Vigilante in the field, behind the mask, breaking down on Death Eater's bones.

"Here, I thought with AID over, I would be free. . . . Wait a minute, what am I, Batman?! No. . . I'm better— Bruce Wayne was a bum. Quinn West's a total badass. Yeah, I'm better. . ."

Polly popped up in the room and asked, "Would Little Master like some sweet cereal?"

"Yes, please."

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Quinn West - MC - Two lives on the same track. . . a good thing or bad.

Merlin - Portrait - Teaching for his freedom.

George West - Grandfather - Or Godfather.

FictinOnlyReader - Author - Sorry for the shorter chapter. This chapter just ended this way, and it seems it'll take me some time to adjust to my new living situation. [Written On April 5, 2022.]

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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,

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

Thx

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