Chương 313: Superbia
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The link is also in the synopsis.
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"You're pathetic."
The silence that had filled the soulscape returned again with Quinn's words. Both Quinns stared at each other— one impassive, other rigid with fury growing on his face.
"What did you just say?"
"Is there something wrong with your hearing; sheesh, I'm not old enough to have hearing problems."
"You-you. . . !" the light around Violet-Quinn started to flare dangerously. He clenched his fist tight enough that they trembled with deep anger.
"I was dethroned, you say," Quinn didn't let up and continued his assault. "And you were put on the top? Really? I mean, you look like a splendid guy, but your behavior, on the other hand. . ."
"What about it?" asked Violet-Quinn with an edge.
". . . just a bit immature," Quinn shrugged.
The expression that came on Violet-Quinn's face was one that Quinn was sure that he had never made. He looked like he was about to burst into flames of fury, and violet hue was fluctuating wildly— Quinn had been hurt, but never like this.
"Immature. . . I?" said Violet-Quinn, his voice laced with a warning. "Take that back."
"Why would I?" Quinn didn't wait for a second to throw his reply. "Just this morning, you raced against Eddie, and you know that Eddie naturally runs faster than us, which showed when he was ahead of us during most of the run, but then what you do?" Quinn continued mockingly, "You used body magic to gain an edge, and if it was just that, I could've excused it as a necessary action to stop Eddie's annoying victory celebration and him holding it over us for eternity— but you went on throttling to the full, crossed the body's limit and, . . . left him in the dust."
Quinn moved close to his violet counterpart and whispered, "That was the pettiest, most immature thing I have ever seen, and it cripplingly cringing and embarrassing that it was ME who did it. It was absolutely disgusting."
He leaned away and watched as a shadow appeared over the eyes of the apparition of the Sin curse. Everything from Violet-Quinn's tone, words, to the colored glow, Quinn had made an educated guess about what the figure in front of him represented.
"So what," said Violet-Quinn, raising his head with a smirk. "I can do whatever I want, and if my actions seem juvenile is more of 'you' fault than a 'me' fault. I don't see where it is my fault."
The violent oscillating flickering of glow stopped, and Violet-Quinn stared down at Quinn with a raised chin and looked ghastly like a certain pureblood family, who consider themselves superior to others.
"That answer is what I'd expect from someone like you," said Quinn, sighing. "You're after all my pride, my hubris, my vanity."
It wasn't instant, but a few clicks of clock's worth of time before a grin split Violet-Quinn's face, and he started laughing— it was a peal of belly laughter than Quinn himself had only let out on rare occasions of celebration and achievement, but from Violet-Quinn's mouth it sounded heavy and overbearing.
"I am NOT yours in any form, Quinn," said Violet-Quinn, sneering at the name. "I am superior to you, I surpass you in every form, I am simply better— you're beneath me, making me something larger than your worthless. . . self. . . . why do you look at me like that."
Violet-Quinn stopped laughing and boasting when he saw the expression of pity on Quinn's face, his smile turning into a frown at the unexpected expression.
"I feel sorry for you."
". . . What?"
"You're clearly a result of my pride being amplified due to the Sin curse," said Quinn shaking his head. "When you think of the word pride, does it strike you as positive or negative? Pride is an emotion that can be both nurturing or poisonous. It's okay to feel proud when you accomplish something great: It's good to 'take pride in our work.' People like it when someone tells us, 'I'm proud of you.' All of these expressions communicate a positive kind of pride: dignity, respect, and honor, traits that we all can embrace. Feeling proud tastes delicious — it inspires positive behavior. Being proud, however, is a different thing — it can make one come across as arrogant and self-centered.
Aristotle described pride as the 'crown of the virtues.' For the Greek philosopher, pride implied greatness. He considered a proud person as someone who is and thinks to be worthy of great things. And I agreed with his thoughts— I have done great things as such it was natural for me to hold pride.
To think we are worthy of great things when we are not. . . is vanity. Whereas to think of oneself worthy of less than we are worthy of. . . is cowardice. But because I felt I was truly great, and thus neither vain nor cowardly."
Quinn looked sorry as he continued, "But I had thought about this a lot, and if I look at it, I haven't done anything of exception, have I?"
Violet-Quinn's eyes widened as the final words left Quinn's mouth.
"What have I done in my time here in this world that is truly something of my own? Have I accomplished something genuinely great?" said Quinn in askance. "This body wasn't mine but belonged to the child; I should be grateful to him and his parents for it and the magic that it came with. Speaking of magic. I pride myself on possessing more magic than anyone I have ever met, but anyone in my position, having adult-like consciousness since age four, knowing the future ahead, could've accomplished what I have— it's nothing special, and comparing myself to others, who didn't have my circumstances is clearly something I should be proud about. Even my wandless capabilities result from my circumstances of starting to learn magic at an extremely early age.
My knowledge? Is it something I should boast? No, the only reason I had access to so much wisdom in the first place was that grandfather indulged my requests and used the fortune that HE had to provide me with whatever I wanted; I should be grateful to him for where I stand today. After all, without him, I would be nowhere near I'm today. Even the more esoteric knowledge I have comes from the Room of Requirement. I have been standing on the shoulders of giants, who had genuinely contributed to furthering the world of magic.
My Inventions? I should be proud of them; after all, I made them from scratch, and didn't they push a revolutionary change in how magicals live. But did I really? Yes, I made them, but not once in all my years have I used something in my inventions that truly were my own. Everything was already invented, and I just put them together using the inspiration that I knew from my memories or what I saw somewhere else. If someone had my vision, anyone of enough competence would be able to create what I did. So do I take pride in my work? Yes. Should I be proud? No. Was I proud? Unfortunately, yes.
The Cursed Vaults? Something I had devoted a lot of my life to. Yes, I have far beyond what anyone before had, and that's a matter of pride. But did I ever you stop to think who was my competition— children of my age, who didn't have the time I had for preparing their magic, who probably didn't have the resources I had, and nor the maturity to work on magic as I did. If someone of my level gave the Cursed Vaults, who knows what would've been the result— there's a chance they would be better than me.
My initiative to deal with the Horcrux is honorable, and when I began dealing with the soul anchors, I didn't think of it as something to be proud of; I was doing something any decent would do— given that I know I'm not really a decent person. But recently, my thoughts had turned to something of doing everyone in this country a favor by getting rid of the Dark Lord's life saves. Yeah. . . something I never thought I would end up feeling, but it seems my self-arrogance was something that I had played down for myself."
Quinn's smile and eyes were dripping with pity as he stared at Violet-Quinn. "I don't know when, but my authentic pride— the feeling of confidence and competence about who I was— turned into hubristic pride, letting egocentrism and arrogance take over. The latter encourages aggressive behavior; the first, affiliation.
And the already worsening situation turned into a toxic one when I let the Sin curse which gave birth to you. It is my fault that you had come to existence, that if I had introspected, maybe you would've not been born. . . so, from the bottom of my heart, I apologize. Forgive me."
Violet-Quinn stared at Quinn, his eyes blown wide. With every word coming out of Quinn's mouth, Violet-Quinn got more and more somber and silent, more and more shadows appearing on his face, the glow around his body flickered, jumped, receded haphazardously without any pattern. But when, at the end, Quinn apologized, his demeanor changed to one of life-changing shock as if he had been struck by lightning.
". . . What nonsense you're talking about," said Violet-Quinn. "I don't have to care about any of that gibberish because I'm better than everyone else."
"No, you're not," Quinn said shortly. "They're many who are better than us."
"I am! Who has more magic than me!"
"That's only because of me working hard on it."
"If it wasn't for the curse, you wouldn't have the amount of magic."
"True, but that's doesn't have anything to do with you. You're a byproduct of the curse, not the curse itself."
"Shut up! I destroyed the runes you set up in the morning with ease."
"That's because the memory of me setting them up remains in my head and the magical focus I have built from my hard work."
"Shut up! Shut up! I can achieve more than you, much more than you! I'm not a coward who worries about small things that don't matter."
Quinn sighed, "Everything you do matters. The smallest action can turn into consequences of the highest effects. Ignoring them because you think they're beneath you is poor outlook."
"I. AM. BETTER. THAN. YOU."
"That is true," said Quinn, and Violet-Quinn's rage faltered as his momentum came to a halt. "Your outlook on life and how you do deal with things would indeed be better in various situations; you'd be able to make decisions quicker, charge ahead without getting stuck in thinking, and because you're still me and have that twisted pride, you wouldn't allow yourself stop growing to remain better than everyone else," he smiled, "you're indeed better than me."
He stepped closer and placed a hand on Violet-Quinn's shoulder. "I understand; I truly do."
". . . You're a hypocrite," said Violet-Quinn, his voice now weak. "You only care about all of this shit when you have your ass on the line."
"I know. . . I have to work on it."
Violet-Quinn stared at Quinn as his body started to turn into a violet solid, slowly breaking into pieces that dissipated into nothingness. For his final words, he said,
"I hope Greed ruins you and you rot in hell."
Quinn lowered his hand and gazed at where the twisted personification of his pride stood. He had to treat it as a real entity because, at some level, it was just that.
"Ah, that sucked," he sighed, looking up. Just saying all of those things wouldn't have worked, Quinn realized that and knew that if he didn't mean what he said, the pride-personification would've realized it, and the effect would've been the complete opposite. But confronting himself and all of that wasn't pleasant.
After wallowing in his thoughts, Quinn looked at the infected soul, and if it wasn't his imagination, the ominous glow had dulled. He glanced around, but there was no sight of another personification nor any indication of arrival time.
He floated to the infected soul and sat down beside it.
One was done; six more were to go.
The silence returned to the dark soulscape.
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Quinn West - MC - At least I can laugh at myself.
Violet-Quinn - Pride - I hate you.
FictionOnlyReader - Author - Had to research a lot on what's the deal with Pride. Let's hope there's enough research material on other Sins.
NOT ALL SIN CHAPTERS ARE GOING TO BE LIKE THIS. They're going to be weaved into the plot that's going on outside.
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Chương 314: Acedia & Arrival
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The link is also in the synopsis.
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At the tail end of June, a rare cool afternoon greeted the highlands of Scotland, with Hogwarts welcoming a softer sun and gentle breeze to its grounds and hallways, and enjoying that pleasant weather was Quinn, laying on the grass outside the castle, looking up at the floating clouds, thinking how appealing the fluffy white listlessness was looking to him.
He sighed in contentment. Ever since he had let the curse in, he felt that he had attained the listlessness of the clouds. All the stress had vanished, his body felt light, his magic springy, and even the short nap he had just woken up from was heavenly enough that he wanted to return to sleep and not wake up until it was strictly necessary.
"Don't worry, don't hurry," he muttered and closed his eyes to get back to his nap.
«You should be worried and most definitely have a sense of hurry.»
Quinn frowned at the voice in his head. He opened his eyes, and instead of the blue dotted sky, he found himself staring at a wall of black murkiness with hints of multi-colored tints. He raised his hand, and his brows slanted at the blue hue that was spreading out from his body. He grunted as he lifted himself up from the cold ground to sit down, his back slumped.
"There's a lot on the line, and sitting there doing nothing is just not the correct thing to do, no matter how I look at it," a voice sounded out.
Blue-Quinn looked to the side and saw a figure identical to him without the blue glow sitting beside a floating mass of black that gave out a hollow light. He stared at his 'parent' and said, "Even if I don't do anything, it's not like it's going to affect me negatively."
"Come on now, we both know that's not true," said Quinn. He had his fingers intertwined and was tapping his thumbs against each other, and in the room, the dull taps sounded like clicks of a clock. "I have been preparing for this for a year. . . not that was when things were pushed into an active gear— I have been preparing for this for several years. We can't have that all to waste, now can we."
Blue-Quinn stared at Quinn for a moment before his head slumped down along with his shoulders before he laid back down and rolled over to his side, and propped his head on the palm of his folded arm. His half-lidded eyes gazed at Quinn, who was looking back at him.
"All that work you did was unnecessary—"
"I won't say that."
Blue-Quinn sighed, "Don't interrupt, please. It breaks the flow, and that's annoying and troublesome to start again. Just let me finish speaking; I don't speak much anyway."
"Sorry about that, go ahead, please. I shall listen with patience."
"Thank you," said Blue-Quinn. "Now, I agree taking care of Horcruxes does help, even though it was so much work. . . so much work," he trailed, "but your plans for the coming break-in just sounds unnecessary and you could. . . I could do without it, yeah, not going to do that," he finished with a lazy smile.
"You really are slothful; even with the amplification, I never thought my sloth would reach this level," commented Quinn, his thumbs still tapping against each other. "Do you know, when I was researching the sins, I didn't do much on sloth. In fact, sloth might be something I never even considered a serious sin, even though it was potentially the reason I never went into the vault a second time during the first tenure of the curse. But it did make me ask the question, 'What does it mean to commit the sin of sloth?'
First, I thought it was physical laziness. While laziness is undoubtedly an element of sloth, there's more to this sin than just laziness. After some thinking, I narrowed it down to four factors— carelessness, unwillingness to act, half-hearted effort, and becoming easily discouraged by any possible difficulty. So let's ask some questions," said Quinn.
"Am I careless? All of us need rest, but has my rest turned into negligence? Have I begun to not care and not give my best effort in whatever life circumstance comes my way? Not really; I haven't been careless, at least, not because of sloth.
Am I unwilling to act? Ha! Have I begun to procrastinate? Ha! I'm not the grasshopper who doesn't prepare for winters; I'm the might ant. If I was unwilling to act, Amelia Bones would've been buried in her family cemetery and the Ministry on its way into the Dark Lord's hands. While I think things thoroughly, I never procrastinate. As I have done nothing of those, I have yet to commit that sin.
Do I do everything with a half-hearted effort? Ever since I have come to this world, I have made sure to make the most out of it, and doing things half-heartedly is wasting time and against my priorities. I do too many things simultaneously, and doing those half-heartedly would end up in failure across all boards, and I just can't allow that.
Am I discouraged in the face of every difficulty? I have risked my life in five different Cursed Vaults; they have been difficult, time-consuming, dominated my life more than I like to admit— I could've been doing much safer things all that time, but I went ahead with the Curse Vaults because of the perceived potential, difficulties can go drown itself."
Quinn got onto his feet and skipped to Blue-Quinn, and squatted down to bring his face close to Blue-Quinn's. "And you know all about it, don't you."
". . . What?"
"You know, I wasn't sure how to approach you at the start, but then you talked about my plans, which was what I would've expected. . . but then you made a mistake— you only talked about it," said Quinn, in an aggressive whisper. "Sloth doesn't have the strongest hold on me, I know it, you know it, and you just should it by not even once mentioning magic. . ."
Blue-Quinn stayed silent. However, the bored and lazed look was nowhere to be seen.
". . . If you were truly a sloth with concrete control, then you'd mentioned my magic. How that I have grown beyond my age and how it would be fine if I take a rest, probably for a decade or two and nothing would change— but you didn't, and that made me realize," a savage grin split his face, "you represent sloth, but you're still an amplified personification of MY sloth. . . and if there isn't much to begin with even with amplification, it won't rise to an assertive level. You can feel also feel it, too, don't you? You don't mind the physical laziness, but I'm sure you're doing the usual thing— even though I can't feel the magic in my body, I bet you have been spending it like usual. Come on, tell me I'm wrong."
". . . Tch," Blue-Quinn clicked his tongue. "Yeah, yeah, whatever. I did what I was asked. . . ."
Quinn stood up with a smug smirk before his eyes turned grave. "I accepted pride because I was guilty of committing the sin. But I won't accept a sin that I haven't committed— SO," he cocked his foot back and let it rip forward, driving a kick straight into Blue-Quinn's stomach, "GET OUT OF MY SOULSCAPE!"
Blue-Quinn couldn't get in a word(not like he looked like he wanted to say anything) as his body turned into luminescent blue solid, dispersed into pieces on the kick's impact just like the personification of pride had done before.
"Alright, that's two," Quinn muttered, turning his eye to his soul. The soul which had been the darkest shade of black had now lightened. "Good, it's working— I just need to keep this going."
From the two sins, he could tell that this time around, a single sin would be in charge, dominating the 'created' personality while the other sins would hang out in the minority. Pride had taken the driver seat first, with the Sloth going second(which he did think was strange— he would've expected Sloth to go last).
"I wonder what's going to be the next."
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Night descended upon Hogwarts, the dinner feast was done, and the day had entered into the curfew period with students in their dorms. Dark clouds hovered over Hogwarts with streaks of lights flashing in the darkness, announcing the possibility of a downpour.
However, not all students were in their rooms; one Draco Malfoy was out of the dungeons, far away on the top, the seventh floor. He sat on a chair inside the Room of Requirements that he had fixed from its broken state. He had skipped the dinner feast and had been in the Room of Lost Things for a couple hours, jittery with worries, roaming back and forth in front of the repaired Vanishing Cabinet until his legs demanded rest, making him sit, and since then, he had been staring at the Vanishing Cabinet.
Even though his prancing had been quelled, his worries still bubbled in his gut, threatening to come pouring out, only being held back by his foot tapping on the floor.
'A-Are they not coming?' Draco thought, leaning away from the backrest. 'Should I go to the other side to see what the delay is? Or is the mission canceled?' his thoughts filled with hope.
Draco decided against leaving Hogwarts and leaned back into his chair again. However, now his agitation had been ignited, and he needed an outlet. He looked around, and he was covered with junk of all sorts. But then he felt something on his side, and his hand went into his robes to take out his wand.
He stared at his wand. Today. . . he would have to use it against something he had no idea how to even approach, much less defeat. How was he supposed to raise his wand against the great Albus Dumbledore, the defeater of the Dark Lord of a previous era?
How was he supposed to kill Albus Dumbledore?
'You have to do it, or else he will kill everyone,' a voice spoke in his mind. 'He won't spare your father nor your mother,' the image of the snake-like man made Draco shiver. 'If you fail, everything's over.'
Suddenly, Draco's breathing became short, and he found himself short of breath. He grabbed his chest as his lungs heaved, and the world was turning for Draco— he couldn't do anything but try to get air into his lungs and watch as his mind started to shake and shiver. When everything came to a lul, his ears were ringing, and his inner clothes were drenched in sweat.
Draco felt like bursting into tears.
He didn't want to do this.
He couldn't do this.
He was pulled from his thoughts when he heard creaking of wood and immediately sat straight, looking at the Vanishing Cabinet with wide eyes. He stood up when he saw the door swing open, and there stood a man inside.
"Ah, dear Draco, you look ready," said the man dressed in Death Eater garb. "It's good that you're ready— you have a lot to accomplish today; you're going to be the star of this spectacular night."
Corban Yaxley smiled as he greeted the young Malfoy. He stepped out of the cabinet and closed it behind him before stepping aside.
The cabinet vibrated, and once again, the door opened for another man to step out. "That didn't feel like much," said Amycus Carrow, he too, dressed in Death Eater robes.
Then came Alecto Carrow, Thorfinn Rowle, along with Gellert Gibbon. All three inner circle Death Eater.
The Vanishing Cabinet shivered one final time, and the door opened again, but this time, the man that stepped seemed to look like he was crouching inside the cabinet and had to duck to not bang his head.
"Whoever made this should be gutted," said the large, vicious-looking man with matted grey hair and whiskers. He had pointed teeth and long yellowish nails, adding to his bestial appearance. He wore Death Eater robes that looked like they were uncomfortably tight. His hairy arms were exposed, and they weren't branded by the Death Mark.
The man was the most violent werewolf in the country.
Fenrir Greyback.
The infiltration squad was ready, and it was time to bring Hogwarts to its knees and announce the return of the Dark Lord to the world.
Draco Malfoy looked at the adults around him, and his grip around his wand tightened. . . so they wouldn't notice the tremble that wouldn't stop.
In the Headboy Suite three floors below, Quinn opened his eyes, and a savage grin crept onto his face as magic flared inside his body intensely.
It was time. . . .
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Quinn West - MC - Arrogant I might be, lazy I am not.
Draco Malfoy - Junior Death Eater - Mission Impossible.
FictionOnlyReader - Author - Did you notice the switcheroo at the start? Heh, they have been doing it to him since the start; it's only fair he got to do it to them.
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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!
SUY NGHĨ CỦA NGƯỜI SÁNG TẠO
FictionOnlyReader
FictionOnlyReader
Just like always,
Review, comment, add to the library, and share this fic.
Thx
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