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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Quinn stood in a deserted alleyway dressed with not a soul in sight. There was a criterion to place Labyrinth exit points, and locations less visited by the non-magical people were high pointer— to be unseen exiting a Labyrinth exit point was paramount, and thus, every exit came with an area ward that sent non-magical eyes wandering in other directions. Moreover, there was a committee place that would regularly review the locations to adapt to the ever-changing non-magical world.
He stared at the wall covered with posters in front of him. The entire neighborhood had once been a booming residential area until it had been abandoned and was yet to be re-developed, making it perfect as an exit point.
'I wonder if this was the wrong way to get in,' he thought with a strand of worry. He hadn't been in the house he had sent Gerald to and only knew that address contained a Labyrinth door. He didn't know the layout, where the door was placed, or how it was hidden— the plan's success was heavily based on Gerald's ability to locate and discover the door.
Gerald. . . . He hadn't been chosen because of a reason; Quinn had simply chosen him because he was the first one he had found wandering around the ward boundary.
While the ward boundary stopped various magic, it didn't prevent mind magic from going through. And mind magic was one of Quinn's most dangerous weapons, and the moment he laid his eyes on Gerald, his mind was already in Quinn's hands. He shoved everything aside and targetted Gerald's most joyous and tragic memories, and to his surprise, he found something that hit both of those categories.
Trent— Gerald's late son. Little Trent had died at the tender age of five from a magical illness that had spurred quick and hard. The child's immune system and magic weren't able to sustain him until magical medicine could work its charm. . . and Trent had departed to his next great adventure.
The moment Quinn had found that button, he clicked it hard. He had weaved together his best work of mind and illusion magic to show Gerald a magical image of Trent that acted in the same way Trent had done in the memories with slight actions that would push the already emotional and distraught Gerald over the edge so that the mind magic could dominate the mind and Quinn could puppet him in any way he desired.
'Should I go back to check?' he wondered. There was a real chance that Gerald could panic and come back to check on Trent to see if his son was still there.
The wall in front shook, and a glowing outline appeared on the wall in the shape of a door. Quinn pushed himself off the opposite wall and walked towards the glow as the part of the wall changed into a stark red door with golden trim. Just like the Labyrinth doors could be hidden, the exit points could also be hidden and didn't have to be visible all the time.
The door was thrown open and Gerald burst out looking panicked. He turned his eyes over Quinn, and for a split moment, his eyes didn't even linger, but then he double-taked hard.
"I-Invisible Vigilante!" Gerald's body froze up from his feet, a paralysis traveling up his body. His eyes trembled as Quinn walked toward him. "No! Don't come near me! Stay away!"
Quinn raised his hand towards Gerald, but before he could even touch him, the spiraling Death Eater fainted. "Oh. . . well," Quinn touched Gerald's forehead and made sure that the man stayed in his current state. He then jammed the door to make it stay open so that he would have a way to enter and exit Hogsmeade at will without needing Gerald's help anymore.
He gave Gerald one final look before entering the house and saw what Gerald had done to find the door. The man had turned the house upside down, not a single thing in the room was in the correct place, and Quinn crushed broken glass pieces the moment he stepped inside the house.
"People can be so brutal and. . . uncivilized," he sighed. Quinn moved across the house and found a window. He peered out and scowled at the empty streets of Hogsmeade, and that too at morning— something you could only see on a big Quidditch game day, but today the reason was deeply sinister.
He had gotten in Hogsmeade, but the question now was what to do now that he was here. He couldn't charge in and start cutting down Death Eaters left and right; he couldn't even go hunting in shadows— not when there were innocent people in constant danger of a wipeout. Go after Voldemort? Now was not the time; there were things to do be taken before taking a stand against Voldemort.
'I should scout the village to get a better feel for the situation,' thought Quinn. As it stood currently, Voldemort was a secondary concern; the primary priority was the people taken as hostages— their safety was needed to be assured before anything. 'Not only are they too big of a number to be sacrificed,' Quinn couldn't lie and say he hadn't thought of collateral damage; alas, an entire village was a bit too large to be sacrificed and— 'Dumbledore won't fight without restraint if he knew that there was a chance to wipe out more than a hundred people. . .'
That's why he needed to clear the village of innocents. . . well, not him— he had people who would do that for him.
He had other motives in mind. . . .
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Hermione silently opened the door and hurriedly sneaked in before closing the door behind her. She breathed a sigh of relief and pulled down the Cloak of Invisibility from her body. Hermione looked at the room she had seen merely a couple of times in her seven years at Hogwarts. It was a layout much like her own Head Girl's Suite but bigger than the new residency that she had taken over this year.
"Hermione, is that you?" came a voice from inside.
"Yes, Professor Potter," replied Hermione as she walked to the voice and reached Lily, who was standing inside the kitchen of the Professors' Quarters that had been assigned to her when she took her position in Hogwarts. "Where are Ivy and the boys?" she asked.
"They're inside," Lily sighed and presented Hermione with a tray of refreshments. "Make them eat something, will you, dear. It's no use worrying about the things they're spinning their heads around."
"Yes, I will see to it," Hermione took the tray carefully.
Lily smiled, "How lucky is my Harry to have you." Hermione tinted red and looked away in embarrassment. "I'm going out to a Professors meeting; make yourself comfortable," said Lily, flicking her wand that set the kitchen utensils and cleaners into motion.
Hermione saw Lily off before heading into the living room and found her best friends sitting silently as if someone had passed away. "I brought food," she opened up. "You three should eat something; you had nothing at lunch." She placed the tray on the center table and sat beside Ivy, but none reached out for food, not even Ron. "Why are you three like this? Harry, you're not going to be given to Voldemort! Why are you needlessly thinking about that?"
"What else is there to think about?" Harry replied; there was a hint of furrow between his brows. "I know Dumbledore won't send me out even know matter what anyone says, and with him here, neither can I be forced out. . . but what if it's the only way?"
"What?" Hermione uttered with hurt in her voice. Ivy and Ron looked shocked, the former much more than the latter.
"There are so many trapped in Hogsmeade, and we have more here at Hogwarts. . . what if me going to Voldemort puts so many lives safely out of danger. . one in exchange for many seems logical, doesn't it," Harry said bitterly. "When the safety is ensured, Dumbledore can defeat Voldemort and—"
"Are you listening to yourself?!" Hermione stood up with clenched fists and stared with. "Voldemort won't die with the Horcruxes still around!"
"I know that, but Dumbledore kills Voldemort now; it will give everyone some time," Harry rebuked, looking Hermione straight in the eye and ignoring the increasingly darkening expressions. "The Diary and the Ring. . . two of the Horcruxes are already destroyed. If we take one that Quinn has, that'll make three. . . and if with me, it'll make four. . ."
There was a horrid silence in the room, but one look at three other than Harry would reveal that they had much to yell, and if not for the shock of the situation, they would've torn the roof off.
". . . That's already more than half. In the time it takes Voldemort to recover, the rest of the Horcruxes could be found, and with his fall, the Deah Eaters could truly be rounded up and put into Azkaban. . . not before we send them to Quinn to have them fixed."
"Shut up," Hermione glared at Harry.
"I agree with her," Ivy said. "You need to stop speaking right now. The more you speak, the worse you make things. You know what, shut down your brain and just stare at a wall or something, you idiot."
"Mate, thinking like that isn't going to help anyone," said Ron. "Even if you ask to be sent out, no one's going to let you. I'll be the first to stun your arse and lock you in the dungeons. . . so why even think of the pointless."
Harry looked up at Hermione, who looked more hurt than he had ever seen her. When Harry didn't say anything, Hermione stomped out of the room.
"Go after her, you idiot," said Ron.
Harry stood up and walked out to follow his girlfriend out of the room.
Ivy looked at Ron and asked, "Hermione was wrong; you don't have the emotional intelligence of a teaspoon, Ron."
Ron shifted to face Ivy, and instead of saying something she would expect him to say, he asked, "What is Quinn doing now?"
"Err. . . what?"
"Even I won't believe it if you told me that you haven't talked to him. What is the Invisible Vigilante doing now?"
Ivy studied Ron for a good long moment before asking, "Why are you asking?"
"Because it concerns my best friend. I don't know if he has told anyone where the Horcrux he has is. From what I've read about him in the papers and heard from you, he's surely trying to get involved. And if he's coming here, he might get caught and die. So, I want to know where the Horcrux is, so we can destroy. . . I will do it if that's what's needed"— Ron squinted his eyes— "You didn't think of that, did you," he sighed.
Ivy's face had turned the moment Ron mentioned the possibility of Quinn dying. "I-I. . ." she couldn't say anything.
"I know it's not an easy conversation, but ask him where it is. If he has put it somewhere, ask him how to get to it. If he's keeping it with him, tell him to hide it somewhere and ask him. Even if you don't think it's not going to happen. . . right now, right here, anything can happen," Ron got up and walked out of the room, leaving Ivy alone in the room.
She looked toward the door and gingerly pulled out the shrunken two-way mirror. She tapped it with her wand, and it began to flash. . . but the connection was never accepted by the other side.
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Quinn West - MC - Much things to do; no time to do them in.
Ivy Potter - Tough Position - W-Why isn't he picking up.
Harry Potter - Horcrux - I have to die one way or another. . .
FictionOnlyReader - Author - The thing with Gerald and Trent, I took from Rick & Morty— the car battery episode where Summer is protected by the car.
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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!
Just like always,
Review, comment, add to the library, and share this fic.
Thx
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 mirror in Quinn's pocket flashed and vibrated, but his hands didn't go to it, despite knowing where and whom the call was coming from. His eyes were stuck on the surreal sight in front of him.
On a street junction, three wooden pillars stood erected, and tied up from them were three bodies with their heads bowed and arms nailed on horizontal wooden planks. They had been stripped of their clothes, leaving them with no dignity even in death. There were dried blood stains on the ground, seemingly having dripped down from their bodies. Quinn stepped out from the shadows and moved closer and saw the discolored skin color which had turned a grotesque black. . . he knew what that was a sign of. . . someone had overloaded their bodies with Crucio for an excessive amount of time. If they were alive, their skin would've recovered with time, but in death, it would stay this way until their bodies decomposed, returning to earth.
He didn't know who these men were or why they ended up like this, but he was sure they didn't deserve this fate and ending. Quinn clenched his fist and looked with self-disgust because he knew he couldn't get the dead bodies down from the pillars as doing so would alert the Death Eaters of an outside presence.
'Too late, huh,' Quinn squeezed his shut for a moment before disappearing into the wind.
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"Albus, we have to do something," McGonagall impatiently entered the Headmaster's Office and began pacing around under Dumbledore's eyes. "The older students are gathering in the Great Hall, and I fear they will demand that the Potter family be given to the Dark Lord. We must stop it at once! We already have enough problems outside; I'm not equipped to handle them arising inside."
The younger students weren't old enough to completely comprehend the situation and believed Dumbledore's words of everything being alright. But the senior students had the capability to think for themselves, and at that age, it was an instinct to question and sometimes oppose the decision. Right now, those instincts were rearing their heads.
"If they ask for it," said Dumbledore, "I will face them, listen to their reasoning, talk to them— but I'm not going to shut them down without giving them a chance to speak their minds."
"What if they don't listen?"
"They will. . . they have to. What reason do they have other than Voldemort's word, which frankly saying isn't much. They haven't lived through wars, faced Dark Lords, or know what goes in their twisted minds— they haven't seen the dark side, the real side of things. . . and as long as they're in my care, it's my duty to protect them from it."
Dumbledore stood up from his chair and headed to the window. He stared out at the scenery with his hands behind his back; he could barely make out Hogsmeade in the distance because of the ward distorting the view. "Minerva. . . I would like to take care of Hogwarts in case something happens to me. I have already named you my successor. . . take care of the children," he said.
McGonagall froze in her tracks and jerkily turned to Dumbledore. "Albus, what are you. . ."
"I've already passed a hundred a decade ago—"
"That doesn't mean anything," interjected McGonagall; she didn't want this conversation to continue. "You're not old, Albus, if that's what you're trying to imply— you're not a Muggle." The magical kind had longer lifespans; for them, a hundred years wasn't the sunset of life.
". . . No, I'm not old; this isn't about that," Dumbledore still didn't turn towards her. "Frankly speaking, I was in my prime when I fought Grindelwald. I was young, passionate, and had the hunger suitable for that time— I was even learning under Nicholas back then. When the war ended and the peace arrived, I let my hair down and returned to teaching at Hogwarts. . . my efforts at magic took a step back. When I became the Headmaster, my duties increased, same with my other titles. . . another step back for magic. By the time Tom Riddle rose as Voldemort, I hadn't been as active with magic as I was when I fought Grindelwald. . . . I had become complacent. When Voldemort started to show as a threat, I dusted the cobwebs over my magic— even those efforts constantly clashed with my role at Wizengamot. . . but I trusted them to be enough," Dumbledore took out the Elder wand to gaze at it. "When Voldemort was vanquished, I thought I would double-down my efforts; however, leading the Light faction was a burden too time-consuming— and I had to figure out a way to defeat Voldemort once and for all. . ."
He turned to McGonagall and surprised her with a bitter smile. "I fear I'm not strong enough to come out alive from a life-and-death duel with Voldemort. He has always been hungry for power. The time he had spent suffering after Harry vanquished him has only strengthened that desire. He has utilized unspeakable dark rituals to bolster his power, learned the vilest of magic— he is mighty. . ."
The last words were already said before, and McGonagall could tell that Dumbledore chose not to tell them.
"You have to be alive," said McGonagall. "There can't be any other outcome. Hogwarts needs you, the children need you. . . Hogwarts won't be the same without you. You need to stay alive to see a time where you can retreat away from everything and just be the Headmaster and actually get to teach."
The light returned to Dumbledore's eyes as he chuckled. "Maybe you are right. I would love to teach again."
"You looked like you enjoyed it when you did it that year."
"Working with young children, introducing them to new things is the finest experience I have had in my life," Dumbledore smiled as he sighed. "I hope I will get to experience it again. . . I really hope so."
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"Sir, we are ready to move in."
Sirius strapped his standard-issue Auror dragonhide heavy vest as he turned to his subordinate. "Good, tell everyone to strap up and take their position; we move in three."
"Yes, sir," the Junior Auror saluted before running away.
Sirius turned towards and walked towards a group dressed differently. All were dressed in matching tan combat gear, which, different from the Auror issue, was made from a select breed of dragons with a lighter and more magic-resistant hide. Every last one seemed in tip-top shape with a body language that spoke of their training.
"Warlunt," called Sirius.
Warlunt, his Hit Wizard counterpart, turned, and for a moment, Sirius thought how if Warlunt wasn't married, he would've been the perfect wingman. He was handsome in the rugged way that many ladies dug, and combined with his job as Hit Wizard, the man was a chick magnet.
"Ready?" said Warlunt.
"The wardbreakers are ready to break the ward at command," said Sirius, returning his focus to the job. "Are you going to lead the vanguard or rearguard?" There were three ground teams and one air unit. Out of the three ground teams, two were made up of Hit Wizards, and they were going to assume the role of the vanguard, and the second Hit Wizard team went from the backside of the resort. Sirius was going to lead the rearguard team of Aurors from the front. The second team of Aurors was going to take the sky on brooms and were going to proceed to enter from the sky and attack from above if needed.
"I'm leading the charge," said Warlunt, as if it was obvious.
"Good man," praised Sirius with respect before speaking with a severe tone. "Be careful; the target is a heavy-handed butcher. He will not hesitate to cut off limbs or blast off pieces of bodies. It's a rarity we get his victims in stable condition. Don't hold back; I have already told my men to cast to kill. I don't mind capturing him alive, but even for a moment, you find yourself in a shred of doubt that things could go awry, kill the bastard. . . . If you're hesitant to do so, go look at the kid's dead body at the entrance."
Warlunt shook his head. "I don't mind it. If you want him dead, I will deliver him to you dead."
"Not if I get to him first."
"We will see about that, little man," the towering Hit Wizard smirked. Sirius clicked his tongue and shoved Warlunt, who laughed in return.
After the five minutes passed, Sirus faced everyone who had been assembled for the current mission. Aurors, Hit Wizards, Medi-Healers for emergencies, external consultant wardbreakers. . . everyone was looking at him. "I don't have much to say, and neither am I interested in saying much, so I'll keep it short," he said. "Our peers stationed outside Hogwarts with Death Eaters and the Dark Lord holding the entire village hostages while our children are only separated by a ward. While here we are, facing a man whom I respected before he killed a child— now he's a worthless bastard that needs to go. I would rather be at Hogsmeade than here, making sure that the people I work with and care for are safer with me there, protecting their backs, and ensuring the children are not harmed."
Sirus got a murmur of agreement. He continued, "And make no mistakes, I'm going to be there. For that to happen, we need to sort out this mess. So, let's get in there, save the people, and put the bastard into his place. I don't want a single injury because I want all bodies at Hogsmeade after this. This is a detour to the main event, and you should treat this as a warm-up. . . . That's it, everyone gets into positions."
There was a wave of cheer for everyone to psych themselves up. Everyone had already been instructed on how to proceed and had been familiarized with the layout of the building.
The wardbreakers positioned themselves on either side of the door, behind the walls, so they couldn't be attacked while dismantling the ward. Warlunt and his team took the frontal position with Sirius' team behind. The air team rose up on their brooms, and the third ground team moved the backside to enter from there.
"Wards coming down in ten," announced one of the wardbreakers, and the countdown began. The ward started to flicker, and within ten seconds, the ward broke down. Sirius shot a detection spell, and the moment it cleared up, a Hit Wizard moved in and pulled the dead body out.
"Move in," Warlunt ordered, and everyone on the scene proceeded as instructed. Warlunt crossed the tunnel but dipped back in just in time to escape a green Killing Curse passing him by. "He's on the left. Cover for me."
The Hit Wizard behind Warlunt charmed outside the tunnel, and it rose to create a wall. Warlunt moved behind the wall, and the moment he felt an impact on the wall, he ducked out and was about to shoot a spell but immediately entered into protection again.
"What is it?" asked Sirius.
"That was not the Invisible Vigilante," said Warlunt, frowning.
"What?"
"A resort staff shot a Killing Curse at me."
"What?! Why?"
"How would I know—" Warlunt's eyes widened, and he groaned hard before saying, "they're under Imperius. God damn it! That fucker put the staff under Imperius! We aren't facing a single person anymore!"
"You mean," Sirus wrinkled his nose.
"Yeah. . . lethal force is now out of use."
Things had just gotten a lot more complicated.
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Quinn West - MC - Gotta be sneaky.
Albus Dumbledore - Headmaster - I would love to teach and learn again.
Sirius Black - Senior Auror - The day keeps getting worse.
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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!
Just like always,
Review, comment, add to the library, and share this fic.
Thx
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