HP: A Magical Journey

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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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