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89.36% HP: A Magical Journey [Complete] / Chapter 394: Finding Her

Chapter 394: Finding Her

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The link is also in the synopsis.

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"We shouldn't be doing this," Hermione gazed around the streets of Hogsmeade, looking at every person, window, and rooftop with suspicion and worry. "This is too dangerous, and we can get in trouble."

"Don't be spoilsport," said Ron with a bag of Mangey's mouth-firecrackers in his hand. He popped some in and kept his mouth open for miniature firecrackers to burst out. "We aren't going to get in trouble if we don't get caught; it's as easy as that."

Hermione removed her worried eye from the surroundings and glared at Ron. "I'm not worried about getting caught by the professors, that is—" She stopped with a surprised eek when an arm snaked around her waist. She turned her eyes to find Harry looking at her with a comical-surprised look.

Harry fake-gasped, "Hermione Granger, not worrying about getting caught by professors? Who are you, and what did you do to my girlfriend?" he smirked.

Hermione rolled her eyes, "This is not a joke! What if—" she looked around before dipping her head to whisper "— a Death Eater sees you and tries to kidnap you. . . What if they call others and others get hurt!" The more she spoke, the more panicky she got. "I really feel we should return to the castle now; it's not worth the risk."

She was stopped when another arm went around and above her shoulder from the other side. "Cool down; you're worrying too much," said Ivy Potter with a smile that Hermione had only started to see return recently. "No one will know it is us because how can they? We don't look anything like us."

Hermione pressed her lips into a white line. It was true; they didn't look anything like their original appearance. Harry and Ivy were barred from visiting the village during Hogsmeade weekend because of security concerns and all the things that could go wrong if they were outside Hogwarts without protection. So when the plan to sneak out to Hogwarts was made, she had, of course, denied it immediately. But then Ivy had suggested the solution of changing their appearances to some random magazine models they had looked up in an old issue of Witches Weekly so that no one would know who they actually were. They even made sure not to wear their Hogwarts robes in case someone got suspicious because of their house trims.

"But what if someone realizes that it is magic," Hermione rebuked. They didn't have hair for a Polyjuice, so she and Ivy had to work off the magazine clippings and create a replication through Transfiguration.

"Our magic is good enough so that no one would know if they didn't know what exactly to look for. I adore how worried you're getting for us, but shake it away— who knows, this might be our last Hogsmeade weekend," said Ivy.

"Hey!" Harry chipped in, "Let me tell you, this is in no way the last time we are doing this. I'm here till June, and I will be in Hogsmeade every time the weekend opens up."

Hermione tried to resist one more time, "But still. . ."

"How about we go look at some stationary," said Ivy, "that should calm you right down, and it will take your mind off this when you see all the new inventory they have."

Hermione rolled her eyes and softly shoved Ivy away, making her giggle. Maybe Ivy was right; perhaps she was overthinking it— her magic was good, it would hold up. "Should we go to Scrivenshaft then?" she asked— the thought of new inventory did make her feel a rush of excitement.

"Not Scrivenshaft," Ivy's smile ran away faster than a squirrel.

Hermione knocked herself internally, and she could feel Harry's arm tighten around her waist, telling her that it was indeed a landmine that she should've sidestepped. She knew that Ivy had a fight with Quinn, and her mood hadn't been good ever since then— her temper had only improved around the time they had begun planning for today.

"Tomes & Quills is better; we should go there," said Ivy, pulling her towards the street that led to the store.

But then they heard a voice that made them come to a skidding stop. "I would like to object to that statement," said the familiar voice. They turned to see him standing in the middle of the street, smiling at them pleasantly.

"Scrivenshaft is the best stationery and printing solutions store there is in Hogsmeade. . . nay the country. . . nay the world," said Quinn. He was dressed in a suit made up of a grey blazer and tan pants; he seemed absolutely spotless in how he dressed— not how one would expect someone who had run away from home.

He slightly narrowed his eyes and examined them over. "Let me take a guess," one by one, Quinn looked at them, "HG, Ron, Boy twin. . . Girl twin."

"Sorry, I don't know—" Hermoine said, trying to defend, but that went down the drain immediately.

"How did you know?!" exclaimed Ron, his jaw-dropping, letting the firecrackers whistle out.

"Idiot!" "Ron!" "Moron."

Quinn smiled, "Thank you for confirming, Ronald. As for how I knew? I know every Hogwarts student who was there last year. You clearly aren't new first years, and I don't know any now-seventh year who looks like you four. . . it was an easy guess."

"How did you know we'll be in the village today?" asked Harry, his tone full of distrust.

"I didn't." Quinn looked to Ivy, "Can we talk. . . somewhere private?"

Harry stepped forward, but Ivy pulled him back. She whispered something into his ear; Harry looked like he wanted to protest, but a look from Ivy, he clicked his tongue and turned away.

"You go ahead; I'll find," said Ivy.

"Are you sure?" asked Hermione. "You don't have to. . ."

Ivy didn't reply and followed Quinn as they entered an alley and disappeared into another street.

"Should we go after them?" asked Ron.

"I don't think he's going to hurt her," said Hermione, though she was tempted to go after them. She turned to Harry to see what he thought, but he just passed by her wordlessly, heading towards where Ivy and Quinn had left.

"Harry, wait!"

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"What do you want?" Ivy asked scathingly.

"I want to talk."

Ivy stopped in the middle of the street and stood there with crossed arms. "Well, I don't want to," she said testily.

Quinn stopped and rolled his eyes for a moment before turning to Ivy. "Yes, you do, or else you wouldn't have followed me here. Now let's go," he took her arm and pulled her along. Ivy tried to resist, but Quinn tugged her along anyway.

"Let me go!" she protested.

Quinn looked around to survey the surroundings. He entered the door nearest to him and pulled Ivy in. It was a shop full of odd trinkets with an odd scent permeating from the floor's wood. There was a long counter that stretched from one side of the shop to another, and an old man sat behind it, wiping a glass bowl with a washcloth.

"Ernie, is the back room free?" Quinn asked as Ivy studied the shop with suspicion.

"It is," said the old man with a shaky voice.

"Thank you, Ernie."

They walked to the store's back room, which was filled with boxes. Quinn walked to a wall, and like they didn't exist, they passed through the boxes.

"What— the wall," yelled Ivy.

But they passed through the wall. It was an illusion that opened up to a narrow tunnel with a single MLE on the top, walls that barely had any paint or plaster on them, revealing the red bricks that had turned a dirty brown with time. At the other end of the tunnel sat a red door at the end. Inside the room, on the other hand, was nothing like the tunnel. The room was furnished to the inch with decor that made it seem like it was a luxury hotel.

"What is this place?" asked Ivy, stunned at the place.

"Hogsmeade is a village, and like any other village, it has places that only local knows. Locals and those who know what to look for. This place is a spot where people can hold meetings with privacy." He turned to Ivy and said, "So, let's have that meeting."

"What is there to talk about? You said it all the last time, or maybe you didn't— who knows what you're hiding."

Quinn sat down on a comfy leather chair and motioned Ivy to the chair in front of him. "For one, I don't plan to hold the Horcrux hostage. I never did. I want Voldemort dead as much as anyone does," he said. "It was merely a timed threat against Dumbledore. I have my security now."

"What if you didn't have the security?" Ivy asked, not taking the seat. "What then? Keep the Horcrux; maybe join Voldemort while you're at it."

Quin's brow furrowed for a moment, and his smile weakened the same. He sighed and lightly shrugged, "In that case. . . then I would've walked into the Aurors Office and revealed the Invisible Vigilante's identity in front of the entire Auror force. That way, my grandfather wouldn't have needed to deal with Dumbledore. It would've probably jeopardized my future in this country. . . grandfather would've tried to undo that and most probably succeeded, but I wouldn't be walking around as freely as I'm right now— I'm already fending off grandfather's attempt to bring me; I don't want the Ministry behind me as well."

"Like that would've mattered; they haven't been able to catch you until now."

"No, they haven't, but they could do much better with my face. Not only would I have Aurors looking for me with a renewed vigor— people hate rich folks— but I also would have the non-magical authorities after me. . . I don't like that many eyes on me." He was sure that in this scenario, his grandfather would've used the Ministry and, in turn, non-magical intelligence agencies as extra man-force. "It was crucial for me that Dumbledore stayed quiet. Moreover, I don't appreciate my family getting threatened."

"So, you're saying you did nothing wrong?"

"I did you wrong and your family. And I deeply apologize for it. It was wrong for me to keep what I knew, what I did, hidden. I know my justifying my actions won't be helpful here, but I had reasons to do so. I'm aware I sound like Dumbledore right now," said Quinn. He pointed to the chair, "Would you please take a seat, or would you prefer for me to stand up."

Ivy eyed the chair, then Quinn, before conceding her stubbornness to keep standing to take the chair opposite Quinn.

"I missed you," said Quinn. "I tried to reach out to you, sent you letters, but you never replied. You even stopped picking up my calls on the mirrors."

"I didn't read them," said Ivy, a little less angry than before.

Quinn looked down at his hands in his lap. There was a silence in the room. As the silence persisted, Ivy's anger started to slip, replaced with a worry at Quinn's demeanor. The only time she had seen him quiet was when he was working with magic, but other than that, he always had a way of striking up conversations— the silence now was unnerving for her.

"Quinn?"

He raised his head, and even though there was a smile on his face, it sent all the wrong signals to her. If she had been worried at Quinn's silence before, she was genuinely concerned now.

"I. . ."

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Quinn West - MC - I know places, and I know people.

Ivy Potter - Much Anger - Quinn?

FictionOnlyReader - Author - I just wrote the first chapter last conflict of AMJ. AMJ has successfully entered the last leg of its journey. It's expected to end Early or Mid July (I can say it with confidence this time). It'll followed by the Epilogue Volume, which will end by the last days of July.

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The link is in the synopsis!


CREATORS' THOUGHTS
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Chapter 395: The Occasional Thought...

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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Though there was a smile on Quinn's face, his face was sending all the opposite signals to Ivy. All of a sudden, she could notice the slight droopiness, the lack of the lustre in his eyes that made him seem intelligent at times and mischievous at others, she could even light bags under his eyes. It was as if a filter had been lifted over her eyes, and as she put aside her anger for a moment, she could see more and more.

"I. . . I am tired," said Quinn. "I have known about the Horcruxes for a very-very long time, and I don't know how Dumbledore does it, but it is a great deal of pressure for me knowing that there exists a madman who can't be killed without getting rid of immortality granting vessels. At first, I was all up for it— things seemed so simple back then— find and destroy the Horcruxes, kill the Dark Lord, and be the unknown hero by the end of it all— and it started great. . . . I had a bucket load of Basilisk Venom ready to torture the soul fragments till they die, and one already down the sack, then I got another one and burnt the ring to a crisp. . . But things are never so simple, are they."

Quinn heaved a heavy sigh. He glanced over his shoulder at the alcohol trolley near the wall with any choice of liquor he could ask for. "Do you mind if I drink?" he asked.

"You don't drink."

"I know, but I really feel like it could help," he sighed. The look from Ivy looked like she wanted to say something but was holding back made him chuckle weakly. "You don't have to say it; I'm not going to drink; it was just a thought." Both of them knew that Quinn didn't want to partake in anything that would leave him inebriated.

"You see, the first time I saw your brother, I always knew that that scar wasn't normal— I thought it was a dark curse injury that your family wasn't able to get fixed, but when I came to know about the Horcruxes, I began to suspect things, and when I looked closer my suspicions were true— the infamous lightning bolt of a scar was indeed a Horcrux. I don't know how that could be possible because Horcrux takes elaborate magic to create. . . but then there hasn't been a maniac who split his soul more than once." Ivy watched as even the talk of magic that would always make Quinn's face glow up failed to bring any joy to his face. "It may sound bad, but back then, I didn't care for your brother's well-being much; I would've preferred to help him, but the bottom line was that Harry Potter was simply. . . a Horcrux."

Ivy's face wasn't a pretty sight. There was hurt and alarm painted all over her face; she even hugged herself, a very out-of-place sight for someone like Ivy Potter. Quinn watched her, and the look of betrayal didn't make him feel any good. But it was true, from the very moment he had begun actively thinking about the whole Horcrux ordeal, he had found Harry to be an allowed sacrifice for the good of many. Yes, Harry had survived in the canon, but magic could be as unpredictable as methodical; who knew what would happen this time around.

"But then something happened which changed all of it," he said with a bittersweet smile. "I became friends with you."

"What?"

"I don't become friends with people easily, you know that. It was a miracle that we became friends, much less get together in an unorthodox relationship. If I had told a past version of me before things went up for us, he would've scoffed and laughed at me while patting me for better luck next time on the prank," chuckled Quinn with a tired smile, but a real one nevertheless.

"Okay, well, thank you for tolerating me," Ivy snapped in return.

"But with hindsight, I think you and me were bound to at least have a good rapport with each other even if we didn't get together like we are now. Don't you think so? I like people who appreciate magic. You had a personality that I could along with. And well, you being pretty didn't hurt, but I'm sure you have heard that plenty of times."

"Are you seriously flirting with me right now?" asked Ivy, flabbergasted— he had been down in the dumps just a moment earlier.

"Who other than I you would I flirt with?" said Quinn bluntly, and the frankly straightforward look made her feel conscious of what he meant. "Even before we started dating, you were close enough to me that I couldn't perceive Harry as just a Horcrux. I couldn't look at him as a liability; he was now an asset to be protected."

"And that's when things became difficult," she said in a half-statement, half-questioning tone.

"The realization kicked in later, but yes, that's when the easy-go-lucky attitude exited my body, and slowly life started to get real," said Quinn. "Things were tough during the Tri-wizard tournament and our time in the DA. I started to sit down with Harry more frequently than ever, and most of the time, I was acutely aware that there was a Horcrux near me, and he was your brother." Quinn paused, and for a few seconds, he rubbed the armrest of the chair in silence, staring at his hand. "I began looking into sure-fire ways I could subtract Harry out of the equation— or at least subtract the Horcrux in Harry's scar from him— and the more I looked, the more questions began to pop up, more problems surfaced, and the answers weren't flowing in at the same rate. As time passed, I began to put increasingly more time into the Horcrux research. Soon both my social and personal time was being dominated by Horcruxes. . . and last year wasn't good for me. . ."

Quinn shook his head. It wasn't good at all. The entire year, his mental state was like a glass full of water up to the brim, threatening to spill over with a single drop or gentlest of gust, and Snape's death was the thing that broke the dam— for a couple of days, he had shut down completely, letting the Sins take over for a time longer than he would've permitted if he was sane. But at the same time, right now, some part of his mind interpreted them as the last moment of true peace where he was free from any sort of conflict— even if that state came because of giving up on everything.

"You know, somewhere down the line, I began to realize what was truly at stake; that if the Horcrux weren't taken care of, the Dark Lord would've threatened millions of lives, if not more," said Quinn with a harrowed look. "Do you know, destroying the Horcrux is not the hardest part of the problem? The hardest part is killing Voldemort," he said, and Ivy reacted, but he motioned her down. "There are many who have accomplished much in magic, revolutionary achievements that will go down in history, but there are only a handful of people who have reached levels of combative power that Dumbledore and the damned snake bastard have achieved— they can level down cities on their own, wipe out armies, magic or non-magical. They're almost impossible to kill; if one comes looking for you, it is advised to escape rather than attempt confrontation. I said this about Dumbledore before; the same goes for Voldemort; killing them is nigh impossible when they can decimate everything and anything around them."

If there was one thing he couldn't agree with in the canon timeline was the fight between Voldemort and Harry. Voldemort could've killed everyone in the Great Hall with a flick of his wand without breaking a sweat. His agreeing to duel Harry was Voldemort saying that it was enough of playing around and he was taking over to finish everything on his own. Quinn had gone dueled Harry, and he had faced Voldemort; both of them weren't even on the same planet.

He looked at the red door of the room; it was the only 'striking' thing that stood out from the rest of the interior of the room. He simply stared at it. Ivy noticed it and asked,

". . . What are you doing?"

"A couple of times in the last years, but mainly in the past few months, I'm visited by this one thought, it is same every time. It always comes in the evening. . . always. . . just before dinner time," said Quinn, and his eyes were locked onto the door with Ivy trying to figure out if she was missing something. "The thought always starts with imagining what my life would be if the Dark Lord and Horcrux never existed. It goes the same for me every time—" he smiled "—I would be somewhere in Europe or Asia with Eddie and Marcus on our trip," which he knew, despite his many attempts to convince himself otherwise, wasn't going to happen, "having the best time before Eddie starts traveling with his Quidditch team, Marcus with studying under Uncle Elliot, and me going to stay with Mr. Alan for the apprenticeship. . . I imagine me visiting you and Daphne during Hogsmeade weekends or whenever we miss each other— I have gotten pretty good with my apparition, and I can create Portkeys, so it wouldn't be a problem to pop by whenever I want. . . I imagine enjoying the world and doing the craziest of things with my best friends while I also take little time to explore some magic here and there, you know, without it distracting from the purposes of the trip. . . I imagine myself not knowing anything about Horcruxes, anything about how to cripple people, with much less knowledge of how to break people down, and without knowing what it feels like to take a life and live with it— that last part always feels plastic because I can't escape from it— it is called living with it, after all, can't just imagine it not existing . . ."

While Quinn's tone was positive and his words full of warmth, Ivy noticed how his demeanor grew weaker by the sentence. The person she knew to be strong no matter what seemed to shrink into his chair. She got up from her chair and almost leaped to his side; Ivy knelt in front of him, taking his hand into hers.

". . . And then I'm back. . . In a room inside my suitcase, or under the mask hunting Snatchers, or in a shitty corner who knows where talking to people I didn't know, almost always under a fake face because I know my grandfather will find me. Always I console myself that the best part of the day, dinner, a hot and delicious meal, is ahead of me," Quinn was now staring into Ivy's eyes as he spoke every word, which now contained a faint hint of a quiver in them. "I walk out in the open from where I am and always stare at the sky, and the same thing passes through my mind. As I look at the evening sky, I always feel tempted to just give up," Ivy's eyes widened, "give up on the life as a runaway, stop being a Death Eater hunting masked Vigilante— hand over the Horcrux and my research to Dumbledore, and leave everything behind. A part of my mind speaks to me, says that this was never my duty, that I don't have to deal with Voldemort— I should leave it to Dumbledore and the Ministry, that they would take care of it. . . and I should live my life, having fun without all the unnecessary stress."

The bitterest of smiles crept over his face as he pointed at the red door, "I had the same feeling right now. . . that this, what is happening between us too difficult, and I should just leave because I don't think I can fix it anymore." He grasped Ivy's hand and leaned forward, "I don't want to feel like this, but I can't help it. . ."

Ivy stood up, sat down on his lap, wrapped her arm around him, and hugged him tightly while whispering words into his ears. She felt him clutch at her clothes. Ivy couldn't see Quinn's face as it was dipped away from her, but she could tell what was happening from the wetness she could feel on her clothes.

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FictionOnlyReader - Author - I don't want to write anything for this chapter here.

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