HP: A Magical Journey Chapter 289

"Quinn, what are you doing here?"

". . . Harry, Happy New Year."

There was a loud crack before Harry saw Quinn turn with a smile on his face. "Was that an Apparition crack I heard?" he asked, peeking behind Quinn. "Was that Kreacher you were talking to?"

"Indeed, that was Kreacher; I was having a little chat with him," Quinn stared into Harry's green eyes before his smile widened.

The Boy-Who-Lived's mental shields were quite decent. It was no wonder he was able to block his connection with Voldemort established through the Horcrux. They weren't strong enough to keep him out, but enough to keep the Dark Lord, who was operating through a connection that he had no knowledge of about its true nature.

"Was he being nasty with you?" Harry frowned. "If he was, don't worry about it; he's like that with everyone. I haven't been able to talk properly to him ever since I was a child . . . . He's always calling me blood traitor and mum the m-word," he spat.

"I did get that from the little chat," said Quinn, "but Harry, I am a pureblood; Kreacher was perfectly civil with me."

"Why are you even here?" Harry looked at the hallway. "The Party's out there."

Quinn shrugged, "I saw him standing at the corner of the main hall and got curious— I don't enjoy parties, and he seems like a good conversation.

Come on, let's go out."

Quinn and Harry exited through the hallway door into the hall and greeted the chorus of the party.

"So what did Kreacher tell you?" asked Harry.

"Blood status, pure supremacy, blood traitor, the glory of Blacks," said Quinn, walking towards the bar in the hall. He ordered himself a drink and then turned to Harry, "Nothing special, you know, though it was interesting to see a house-elf who showed visible contempt towards their Master— Black and Kreacher must not really get along."

"No, they don't," Harry scoffed. "Kreacher wasn't kind to Sirius when he was young, and Sirius isn't a fan of Kreacher . . .

Quinn was well aware of the history of the Black.

". . . So who did you come here with today?" asked Harry.

"I came alone," said Quinn, getting his drink from the bartender. "None of them wanted to get out home at New Year; preferred to laze around while leaving the work to the poor old me."

"You sound like you don't want to be here," asked Harry, picking himself a glass of butterbeer.

Quinn laughed. "Far from that, my dear Boy-Who-Lived. I'm ecstatic about being here, always wanted to see the Black Family's residence," he looked around the hall, "and have to say, he has done a great in the upkeep."

"Actually, mum's the one who a lot of this," said Harry, puffing his chest. "It wasn't like this before, or at least they say so— it was grim and dark, they say — Sirius didn't like it and wanted to do a complete overhaul," he chuckled, "wanting to build his ultimate Bachelor Pad. Sirius wanted to hire someone to do that, but then mum volunteered to do it . . .

. . . Blacks were a Dark Family, you know, so they had a lot of dangerous stuff things lying around in the house— items, books, and who knows what— and mum thought it would be better if she would take care of that stuff, instead of someone whose job was to interior design and not handling Dark magical items. They could get seriously injured or worse. After she was done, mum decided to try her hand at designing, and well, you can see the result."

Quinn nodded. The interior was tasteful, and he could see designs here and there, which he thought looked familiar to Hogwarts— Lily had spent a lot of her time at the castle.

"So . . . what happened to all the books?" he asked.

Harry quirked his brow at Quinn with his butterbeer bottle at his mouth. "Why?" Harry asked.

"You know . . ."

". . . You sound like Ivy."

"Oh, how?" Quinn asked, curious.

"Ivy asked the same thing—" said Harry.

"I asked what?"

Both boys turned to the voice and saw Ivy standing there gazing at them. She was dressed in a stunning red dress with a little plate of food in her hands.

"Oh, this and that," said Harry. "Talking about Sirius' Bachelor Pad."

"Boys," said Ivy, somehow imitating the 'rolling eyes' with her tone. "So Quinn, I didn't know you were coming here today," she glanced away to where Sirius was standing with a glare, "but glad to see you here— I know you don't like parties."

«Mmnm~ Mnmm~ Mmm~.»

". . . That I don't," said Quinn, looking at the people in the party. He didn't know ninety percent of people here, and even those he knew, he could only bear to talk to a few of them. "So New Year, huh. Any special things both of you want to do this year?"

Quinn looked at both of them and noticed the slight change of expressions on both of their faces, more on Harry's face than Ivy's. He wondered what they were thinking— he could guess . . . he knew what they were thinking.

Before the winter break, Quinn had noticed that Harry's interaction had finally gone way beyond what it was already was. The Headmaster had finally started to reveal things to Harry, and he could tell from Harry's behavior (which Quinn had been observing) that this version of Harry Potter was feeling the pressure.

'The malleable martyr isn't here after all,' he thought.

The upbringing was different. This Harry Potter was able to think about himself, and while Quinn didn't know what exactly he was thinking, from the rolling waves of emotions, he could feel the muddle of contradicting emotions whenever Quinn peeked into Harry's mind.

Duty. Pressure. Reluctance. Willingness. Fear. Courage.

'It's quite ironic, isn't it,' Quinn thought to himself.

He had felt the same emotions from Draco Malfoy this year.

Quinn glanced at the girl twins. He had tried not to peek at her emotions whenever he was near her this year. He had tried, and the feelings that he had felt weren't something he wanted to witness. They just bought out memories that pinged guilt inside of him.

And that was just before he had been plagued with the Sin curse.

After that, it didn't matter if he peeked or not; anytime he was near her, his own voice would tempt him in whispers. The voices rose to strengthen to the levels of Greed and Pride— the two voices that bothered him the most.

Greed and Pride.

Both of those voices were strong because they aligned with his untainted thought the most.

He felt greed for knowledge frequently, and with Greed in the back of his mind, every time he would as much as pick up a book, it would rear its ugly head and constantly whisper.

«Learning is easy, but attaining more magic is difficult. . . if I let the curse take over, I would not only gain a singular focus towards knowledge . . . I mean, come on, I have picked up . . . distractions. . . . But I would also gain so much POWER!»

It was just like the last time. Quinn knew what it felt like, making it more challenging to avoid.

Then came Pride.

He didn't know why, but every time he saw anyone doing anything remotely interesting, a twisted sense of Pride would come up, and he would start comparing himself to them.

He hated that feeling so much.

«Look at all these people. Trying so hard to impress people, yet their contributions amount to nothing. Ah, the kids, they don't know the magnanimity of the outside world. Ha! Trying to impress the teachers. Kids do stupid shit and think it's cool . . . so pitiful!»

It wasn't like him, yet it felt so . . . natural.

"Quinn?"

Quinn broke out of his thoughts and looked at the Potter twins.

"My apologies . . . I was thinking about what I wanted to do this year," Quinn said.

"And?" asked Ivy.

"Well, there's still something I have to do at Hogwarts before I leave once and for all," said Quinn, thinking of a couple things he had going— one of them was literally ticking in the back of his mind.

"Then I need to finally choose what I'm going to right after Hogwarts because there are a few things I can do, and believe me, I have no idea which one to choose," he continued.

There was an apprenticeship with Alan, but that would mean that he would be tied up until his 'Master' was satisfied with his progress, which Quinn was sure would happen with the way the old man was.

Then there was the option of not committing himself to a formal apprenticeship and pursuing whatever he wanted on his own, which itself was a problem as then he would have to choose what he wanted to concentrate on— doing tons of things at the same time wasn't going to work at a higher level— a couple of things, sure, he could handle it, but not everything like he was doing right now. He would have to stick to a couple fields for a year or two before and progress before switching.

"Well, whatever I do," said Quinn, shrugging, "I am going to drag Eddie and Marcus along with me to a grand trip for a month! It will be crazy, yeah."

Lia had done so after her Beauxbatons day— took a trip with her friends. Quinn wanted to do the same with his.

"Where will you go?" asked Harry.

"No clue," said Quinn. "I'm guessing that I would put a bunch of destination names in a bowl, make someone pick one, and then get a portkey there. The best part? We don't know the place until we get there . . . I mean, just imagine the thrill of dropping into one place without knowing if we would even know the language— it would be so fun!"

"That," Harry started, "sounds terrible."

"Really?" Ivy looked at her brother in surprise, making him look at her surprise. "I mean, a trip without planning. While I wouldn't want to do it every time, doing it once sounds exciting."

Quinn pointed at Ivy, "Harry, I know you have listened to it from Eddie a lot, but I have to say, Girl Potter is the Better Potter."

"I mean, was that ever a point of doubt?" Ivy said, crossing her arms.

"Oh, shut it," said Harry.

Quinn leaned back on the bar counter and raised his glass to take a sip as he watched the twins bicker with each other.

'For the last day of the year, this is half decent,' he thought.

And it would have been perfect if not for the voice in the back of his mind.

Soon after, Quinn thought he had spent enough time at the party, so he went to Sirius and said his goodbyes to the host and left with much time remaining to midnight.

Outside the steps of Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place, he reached into his suit coat pulled out the chain with the Horcrux hanging on it. He stared at it for long in silence with unblinking half-lidded eyes.

'I'm tired,' he thought.

There was another thing he wanted to do this year . . . and that was to finish this so that he could move on.

Quinn West - MC - They're getting longer.

FictionOnlyReader - Author - Sorry about this one, but I couldn't think of another way to meet the word limit.

Chapter end

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