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95.7% HP: A Magical Journey [Complete] / Chapter 422: Snake, Curse, Dagger

Chapter 422: Snake, Curse, Dagger

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's magic flowed in his veins with the beating of his heart. His interests were blaring sirens about the danger he was in. The ward felt like a wall behind his back, and even though he was off the ground with all other directions open for him to traverse, it felt like he was backed up in the corner.

"You could've left the body as it was and still be alive by the end of the day," Voldemort looked down at him as he hovered over him, "but you had to interfere foolishly. . . now you have made this the last day of your pathetic life."

"I can say the same for you," countered Quinn. "Today, because of all of this, could be your last day on the mortal plane. . . an appropriate end to a life that ended up being bookended with failure."

Voldemort snorted derisively, "You don't have Dumbledore to occupy me this time, pest." He looked past Quinn toward Dumbledore, who had already flown back into the castle. "I will end your life as you regret ever thinking of comparing magic with me."

Voldemort raised his wand that had just 'killed' Harry Potter. Quinn sucked in a cold breath as magic rose. It wasn't the sheer quantity that jittered; it was the speed and smoothness of response that made Quinn bring his magic to the literal tip of his fingers.

There was a bare twitch from Voldemort's wand — "Avada Kedavra!" — before the killing green ripped towards Quinn. As expected of the Dark Lord, he wasn't playing around as the travel speed of the spell made literally everyone Quinn had ever faced look like they were casting in slow motion. Quinn's response wasn't any slower as a bear head made from ice appeared in front of him and gobbled up the Killing curse.

Quinn flexed his fingers, and his magic complied in the form of rings of winds around him, grinding against each other, creating a sharp edge with every rotation. The bear head couldn't even melt into water for dozens of chakra-shaped discs to fly towards him. Every single one of them could match industrial-grade saws in terms of human shredding power— but all Voldemort had to do was wave his wand like an orchestra conductor for the winds to distort and turn into orbs of battering gales that he sent back to Quinn.

The wind orbs crashed into an array of hexagonal force fields that shook back and forth as the energy dissipated through the edges in the form of thrumming waves.

"Trivial resistance," scoffed Voldemort and slashed his wand for dark energy to materialize— it looked like the blackish-silver energy had formed a gash in the fabric of space with the way it looked like a knife slash against a taut cloth. Arrows made from the same blackish silver shot out from the gash towards Quinn.

Quinn brought his hands together, and the various individual hexagons came together to form one large hexagon that took in beating from Voldemort's arrows. Both duelists stared at each other as the hexagonal shield turned a brighter red with every hit.

When the arrows stopped, Quinn spoke, "You can have that back" — a blazing red tractor beam screeched towards Voldemort, who crossed his wand to conjure a shield of his own, but the counter made from Voldemort's own energy was strong enough to push back Voldemort a couple feet and make him furrow his hairless brows. He tweaked his wand, and the shield stopped being pushed back and took in the red force like a mountain. When the attack was over, Voldemort de-spelled his smoking shied, but when he gazed at Quinn, he was nowhere to be seen.

"Running already?" Voldemort said, magic amplifying his voice. The ink-black smoke still covered the entirety of Hogsmeade other than the line that Voldemort had cleared. "You can only delay the inevitable this way; you might as well give up now!" He turned to look at Hogwarts for a moment. "I should end this before he comes back. . ."

. . . . .

Quinn had already ducked into Hogsmeade after returning Voldemort's magic to him in another form. He had to get away from Voldemort because of the ringing in his head. The various snake scouts he had sent to find Nagini had begun to converge on the giant serpent, making the ringing louder and louder.

He needed to hurry and kill Nagini before Voldemort could find him. It was going to be tight, but he was confident he could pull it off. He flew just above the buildings so that he wouldn't collide with something because the black smoke impaired his vision all the same. He stuck to an altitude and closed in on the location where the snakes were calling him.

'This is it,' he stopped but didn't get down to the ground. He pursed his lips and thought for a moment before raising his hand and shooting a dozen wind orbs in different directions around the village. And that started the clock— Voldemort would detect the wind magic parting smoke as they were big enough magics and head towards them, so he sent a dozen decoys to buy time. The moment the wind orbs reached where he wanted, he stuck one hand down, created another wand, and snapped his finger for the thirteen wind orbs to expand and push the black smoke away.

"Now. . . where are you?" he narrowed his eyes and began looking for the exact location in the general he knew Nagini was. Spotting a giant serpent couldn't be so hard. He gently spread his magic into the air, and as it wafted over, he gained another sense that worked as a radar.

He lowered his altitude and slowly moved above the streets, trying to sense Nagini, keeping his ears peeled for a slither. That's when he heard a deep hiss and turned his body to see the snake he was looking for jumping from the edge of the video with her two fangs barred, showing the red of her mouth towards him. Quinn raised his arm, and Nagini dug her massive fangs into him.

"Not so fast." A wave of magic burst forth and whipped Nagini back. Quinn frowned; his sleeve disappeared to reveal his arm, and he looked at two pin holes in his arm. He put his hand over the holes and pulled it up for dark blood to release from the bite marks. "I'm going to feel this later," he clicked his tongue.

He dipped into his pocket and pulled out a curved dagger. Nagini, who had been blasted into a wall, collected herself and began to flee in a hurry, which surprised him because he was expecting the giant snake to come at him again. He raised his hand, and an Emperyean chain with a cuff manifested out of his palm and clamped around Nagini's neck.

"Got you," he grinned. Quinn got down to the ground and pumped magic into the chain, and Empyrean expanded to pin half of Nagini's body to the ground. He touched the flat of the dagger blade with his finger, and runes glowed on the steel. The dagger was specially made just for killing Nagini; there was a hollow part in the center of the pipe filled with Basilisk venom, and the runes would pull it out towards the surface and inject it out when he stabbed the snake.

"That's another one down," he muttered as he walked towards the snake that was a few feet away from him.

Boom!

Quinn snatched his head up and saw all the black smoke disappear at once to reveal Voldemort flying towards him at full speed.

'Shit! He's early!'

He had a choice to make. He could prepare himself for the attack that was about to come and be safe no matter what it could be— or he could kill Nagini and take a chance with Voldemort's attack, taking a risk with his safety. Many scenarios passed through his mind in a split-second until he made a firm resolution and a plan to go along with it.

He pulled the dagger into his sleeve and faced his now empty palm towards Nagini.

"Found you, pest!" announced Voldemort as he arrived flying.

Then Quinn chanted — "Avada Kedava!" — and the green struck Nagini's head, and the giant snake Horcrux passed away without even managing to get a last hiss or twitch. Quinn looked up at Voldemort and raised his arm, "Your snake bit me— it had it coming," he scoffed, "I hope you don't mind."

Voldemort's mouth was open in a scream of fury that could be heard across the Hogsmeade. "I WILL KILL YOU!" he raged in hatred.

"No longer pest, eh," Quinn prepared his magic. The shock of seeing his Horcrux being killed gave Quinn enough time to prepare his magic. In the last second, he decided to switch from dagger to Killing curse because he didn't want Voldemort to be suspicious of why he was stabbing Nagini instead of using a spell.

Voldemort pointed his wand at Quinn and cast a dark curse with a chant full of fury. The horrendous spell burnt the air itself as it raged towards Quinn, filling the area with a foul burning smell. Quinn pulled up a shield, and it took mere two seconds for Voldemort to break it; Quinn quickly pulled two more shields— the first one was shattered again, but the third one stopped the curse, although it crumbled the very next second.

Quinn stretched his arms wide and sent two spells into the buildings on either side. The next moment, the buildings blew up into pieces, but the dismantled material didn't fly apart hazardously; the materials slowed down as they blew out— and then every piece turned a neon maroon and then rushed towards Voldemort. Every single piece had been turned into an explosive, and the moment they got near Voldemort, they exploded in full bloom.

Quinn took the chance and immediately took to the air. He made a mad fly dash toward Hogwarts, and to his luck, he saw Dumbledore flying on his broom behind the Hogwarts ward. And bless the old Headmaster, as he opened up a part of the ward so that he could enter.

Quinn headed straight towards the red spot in the golden ward.

But then there was a loud pop, and Voldemort apparated between him and Dumbledore. The Dark Lord floated with an ominous presence pouring out of him.

Everything slowed down for Quinn as he tried to change direction. For that moment, everything seemed clear as a diamond, and it was like the world was being with one of the slow-motion cameras.

Voldemort cast a dark curse, and Quinn saw a dirty mustard yellow curse flow toward him. With his flying speed and no previous thought of pushing the breaks, he moved towards the curse as it moved towards him.

Crack!

Voldemort's spell hit him. Then came the pain. His entire body burned as if someone had thrown a tub of acid over him.

The curse, however, didn't stop Quinn's flight forward. He continued to fly towards Voldemort. Quinn had experienced regular pains during the summer when he had lost his magic, so as Voldemort's magic tormented his body, his mind remained clear. The desperation for survival kicked in, and the response appeared in his mind.

The dagger that he had slipped into his sleeve appeared back in his hand, and with all his momentum, he rammed the venomous blade into Voldemort's chest.

"Aargh!" Voldemort screamed.

Both of them collided and were sent in different directions.

Quinn had his eyes on the red spot in the gold ward and Dumbledore behind it. He grunted and pushed his magic so he could fly into safety behind the ward— the pain spiked, and he faltered. But then, a rope around his waist, and he was pulled into Hogwarts.

He blacked out but then woke up immediately when he hit the ground. The shock overrode the pain, and Quinn saw Voldemort on the ground outside the ward and yelled, "How do you like that?! You snake fuck!!!" He then coughed up blood.

"Quinn. . . ."

Quinn instinctively turned towards his name being called and saw Dumbledore, along with the other Hogwarts professors standing behind him. Quinn was about to reply with— "What?" — when he realized Dumbledore had called him.

"Dumbledore! How dare you?!" he yelled furiously.

Dumbledore looked unapologetic; instead, there was a look of worry on his face.

"Quinn—"

"Shut up!"

"— your mask. . ."

Quinn froze up. His heart began to beat harder and harder. He reached up to his face, and what he felt was not the hard mask he was expecting; instead, his fingers felt the supple texture of the skin.

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Quinn West - MC - UNMASKED

Voldemort - Dark Lord - Status: Unknown— though, furious as hell.

FictionOnlyReader - Author - Now that was a happening chapter.

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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
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Just like always,

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next chapter

Chapter 423: Injuries

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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The moment he felt the texture of his skin instead of a hard mask, Quinn's eyes wide in astonishment went to the Hogwarts professors who had come out along with Dumbledore. The entire faculty core hadn't come outside— obviously, they had left some with the students.

But that was good, thought Quinn— less number of people who needed to be subjected to Obliviation. He raised his hands towards them, but then Dumbledore stepped between him and the professors.

"Get out of the way," said Quinn, his voice hoarse.

"I can not allow you to do that, Quinn," said Dumbledore.

"I don't need your permission!"

"You are hurt, Quinn, you are not thinking correctly. . . I know you feel distressed now, but we should take care of those injuries first," Dumbledore raised his empty hand; at the same time, he had his wand ready in his other. "It's a dark curse; if we don't treat it immediately, it will cause long-term, or worse, permanent damage."

Quinn gritted his teeth, and his breathing flared in anger for a moment before he put his hand down. He looked down at his left shoulder and saw that the Noir suit over his shoulder and chest had disintegrated away, and the skin underneath had already turned an ugly blue; he scowled when he saw the slight wrinkling in a spot, and even though Quinn didn't know the nature of the spell, he could guess that it was eating away his body.

He spat in anger. Dumbledore was correct; he needed to treat the injury before it became a problem he couldn't get rid of easily. But as he was about to cooperate, everyone jolted at the deep voice from outside the ward.

"Who could've imagined"— Quinn turned as his body pained and saw Voldemort getting up from the ground on his knees— "that the Invisible Vigilante would be you. . . . " Voldemort straightened his back, and if not for the scowl that marred his face and the dagger sticking out of his chest, no one could tell that he had just been stabbed. "Quinn West, grandson of George West. . . scion of high society getting his hands dirty as an outlaw. . . how unexpected," there was no mirth in Voldemort's voice, only a deadly cold.

The Dark Lord reached to his chest and yanked out the protruding dagger with a grunt. The blade on the dagger was thicker than the norm as it was intended for penetrating scales much sturdier than human skin, not to mention that it was accompanied by Basilisk venom. So it was mind-boggling seeing him not trembling on his feet, coughing up blood, or at least foaming out of his mouth.

Voldemort raised the dagger and waved his wand over it for the blade; it glowed blue. "What is this?" he had seen the Basilisk venom being pushed out of the micro pores in the metal. ". . . Is it some sort of poison? Against me?" he chuckled, but then his eyes turned serious as he raised the blade closer to his eyes. "Basilisk. . . Basilisk venom? You, how did you get—"

"From the Chamber of Secrets," Quinn spat out the blood in his mouth. "I took it off the corpse of your pet snake. How did you like the irony?"

Voldemort seemed surprised, but that only surfaced on his face; his words told another story. "If it was another person, they would have already sealed their fate, but as you said. . . my pet snake." He sneered, "This body of my mine is immune to poisons. . . and that includes Basilisk venom."

"Lie!" yelled Quinn. "I can see it on your face; you're sweating fountains. You might be immune to poisons, but no one just becomes immune to Basilisk venom. It isn't even a traditional ven— Avada Kedavra!" Quinn, mid-sentence, raised his hand and hurled a Killing curse toward Voldemort.

A silver shield burst forth in front of Voldemort and absorbed the Killing curse. "Invisible Vigilante being impatient doesn't seem fit with your image. . . however, now that I know you're but a child, it doesn't seem as out of the picture."

Quinn was furious. Having used anger to provide him the last boost through the pain so he could stab Voldemort was now running rampant inside his body as boiling rage. The balance of emotions had been breached.

He turned to Dumbledore, "What are you doing— AaAAarghh!!!" A flash of pain burst forth in the area he had been hit and infected by Voldemort's dark curse. He fell to his knees, keeling over on the ground, hissing and groaning in agony.

"Quinn!" Dumbledore knelt beside him.

"The more you use magic," said Voldemort viciously, "the more the curse will eat away at you. Harry Potter is dead, Invisible Vigilante will soon be dead, now it's your time Dumbledore. The moment I break this ward, I will end you. Soon, it is time for you to go on the next great adventure." Voldemort smiled evilly before he apparated away.

Before Dumbledore could do anything, Quinn grabbed his wrist with surprising strength. There was anger crackling in his eyes. "Kill him right now! I have all of the remaining! We can finish him today! Kill him!"

No matter what Voldemort said, Quinn didn't buy his claim of being Basilisk venom. The legendary serpent was not an ordinary snake; the venom was as special as the eyes. Voldemort was a weak point, and with Dumbledore wielding the Elder wand, it was possible that Voldemort could be killed without greater complications.

"I will get rid of the remaining ones. . . while you duel him. . . and when you finally kill him. . . he'll be dead for good," Quinn spoke between labored breaths. "Come on. . . this is. . . a great. . . chance."

First, Dumbledore's eyes widened; Quinn felt hope and satisfaction as he knew he had tempted the man enough to take action on the information he had just dropped. But then, Dumbledore shook his head.

"No!" Quinn pushed the words out of his mouth, "Please, go. . ."

"We need to treat you. It is already looking bad," said Dumbledore studied the wound, and the flesh seemed to have gotten much worse. "It's still on the outside; we can't let it reach your heart or even lungs."

"I will be fine. . . Go!"

"I can't take the risk—"

The anger made Quinn's speech clear up as he smoldered, "You were willing to sacrifice Harry. What happened to— For the Greater Good, huh?!" Another flash of piercing pain assaulted Quinn's body.

"That was because I thought I had no choice regarding Harry," Dumbledore said solemnly as he conjured a stretcher beside him. "Moreover, you, Quinn, are too much to be sacrificed. A brilliant young man like yourself is not something I'm willing to exchange against Voldemort's death."

Quinn wanted to speak, but couldn't get a word out; every single one of his muscles felt like they had been pulled taut. In the moment, he even forgot what he would say or yell in response. So he lay there glaring at Dumbledore as he was put on the stretcher and carried away.

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Voldemort apparated inside the Hogsmeade town hall, Death Eater's base of operation. He staggered to the room that he had taken over as his own and slumped down on his chair. He scowled in disgust when he felt his robe stick to his skin when he sat down. He grabbed it, threw it away, and observed the stab wound in his chest— the blade had missed his heart.

He tightened his grip on his wand; it was slipping from his cold and clammy hand. He touched the wandpoint near the wound and chanted under his breath for the wound to glow in a sparkling blue color like a crack leaking light in a dark room. "Argh!" he groaned as the wound wriggled, dark blood poured out, and then discolored shreds of flesh floated out.

Even though he had claimed it, the truth was, as Quinn West had said, he wasn't immune to Basilisk venom. He had never experimented on Basilisk venom immunity— he never thought that he, a Parseltongue, the Heir of Slytherin, would ever need to be worried about being poisoned with snake venom. The only reason he wasn't on his way to death right now was that his body was a superior product of magic and rituals— he could simply make modifications to his body and get rid of the venom; similarly, he could even completely recover from dark curses.

The door flung open with a loud, anxious voice full of desperation. "My Lord!" cried Bellatrix as she rushed towards him.

"Stay away, Bellatrix," he ordered, not hiding the annoyance in his voice. "Keep quiet and don't breath loudly." He glanced at ex-Unspeakable, who stood near the door, studying him with a critical eye. "Rookwood. . . I need your help in healing. You can approach."

Rookwood walked near him and conjured a chair to sit on. After a few diagnostic spells, Rookwood spoke, "We should retreat for today, My Lord. Harry Potter is already dead; we can call this operation a success—"

"We are not returning!"

"Your injuries are worrying."

"It seems you didn't hear me correctly, Rookwood," he glared at Rookwood. "I didn't say that I need you to heal me; I said I need your help. I will heal myself, and you will be simple support. When I'm done, I'm going to go break the ward and kill Dumbledore! Now, I do as I say."

"Yes, My Lord," said Rookwood, bowing his head.

They were about to start when he heard rushed footsteps coming towards the room. The next second, Dolohov appeared at the door with his usual stern expression on his face, but Voldemort could see the tension in his eyes.

"What is it?" he asked.

"My Lord, one of the scouts, sent in a report," said Dolohov in his deep voice. "Aurors have somehow infiltrated our ward."

"WHAT?!" screeched Bellatrix. "How dare they?! I will cut them down!"

"Be quiet, Bellatrix," Voldemort could feel a headache coming up. Aurors infiltrating was a problem. If he was not injured, he could've handled them without a problem with Death Eaters, but he couldn't delay the healing— Basilisk venom wasn't something that even he couldn't ignore.

"How did they get in?" he asked.

"We weren't able to identify that," said Dolohov. "The scout spotted them sneaking around a corridor in the east part of the village. Near Zonkos, I believe."

The ward stood strong, and if it breached, he would know, thought Voldemort. Which meant that they came another way. 'But where?' As Voldemort formulated alternatives, a jolt of pain broke his immersion, and he cursed the Invisible Vigilante—

"Invisible Vigilante," he uttered. How did he get in? The most logical answer appeared in his mind the next moment. "Labyrinth. . . he must've informed them of a door that he must've left," he gritted his teeth. Damn Wests! They were being a thorn in his side.

Voldemort conjured a fresh set of robes over his body, and he already could feel it getting drenched. He suppressed a groan as he got up.

"We can take care of them. You should stay put, My Lord," said Rookwood, standing up as well.

"I'm bringing down the ward," said Voldemort, and that was enough for all three Death Eaters in the room to understand what he meant. "Ready everyone; tell them to prepare themselves. Bellatrix, follow me out."

He staggered outside the town hall and stared up at the ward he had set up. He raised his wand up and, with a grunt, shot a single shot of magic up in the sky. The silver spell left behind a shimmering trail as it climbed itself towards the sky, and when it reached the ward boundary, the spell got absorbed into it, and then slowly, the ward began to shrink. The boundary over Hogsmeade turned translucent and rapidly shrunk until the ward was only covering the Hogwarts territory. Dumbledore would start emptying the damn castle out if he left Hogwarts unchecked.

"Arm," he ordered.

Bellatrix rolled up her sleeve and presented her arm marked with the Dark Mark to him. He grabbed it and pressed his wand over the tattoo. She hissed, but he kept pushing magic in. Dark clouds began to gather in the sky, with thunder crackling across the valley.

He felt the spatial fabric wrinkle and ripple until everything scrunched up before stretched out to taut and then went back to normal.

"Let's see how the Aurors feel now," he said as he stared at the Giants looming over the buildings. He smiled through the pain when he heard the howls echo around the village and could sense the bloodsuckers duck in and out of shadows.

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Quinn West - MC - Anger running rampant.

Voldemort - Dark Lord - Venom!

FictionOnlyReader - Author - If it was someone else, they would've done as Rookwood suggested. But I feel like Voldemort would push forward; that's why I didn't make him retreat. The other scenario was Quinn provoking Voldemort by telling him that Harry was still alive so that he wouldn't leave, but I decided against it.

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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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