HP: A Magical Journey-Chapter 408: Promise & Peace

Chapter 408 Promise & Peace

*Beep!**Ting!* *Beep!**Ting!* *Beep!**Ting!*

Quinn opened his groggily and stared at the drawn curtains that were glowing orange from the sunlight trying to shimmer inside. There was no joy in his eyes as he listened to the noise turning louder with every beep. Today was supposed to be a rare rest day for him where he had told his internal clock that it was okay to sleep in and not fire up the engines early in the morning for the day to come. He had made sure to shut off his alarms just for today— but here he was, listening to two noises that broke his sleep.

He raised his hand from his elbow and pulled in with his magic. From a table across the room, two mirrors flowed to his bed. He laid down on his back and stared at the floating mirrors alternating between showing his reflection and glimmering silver.

“Good morning,” with a small smile. The two mirrors showed his girlfriend one on each. The previous irritation turned into a pleasant feeling filling him from the inside out— it was a great start to see them first thing in the morning. The mirrors had been life savers for his long-distance relationship, especially with their current circumstances. Ivy had gifted him the message, and he had made a pair for Daphne so that they could communicate likewise.

“Quinn, it’s important.” “We have a problem.”

“Is that Ivy?” “Did I hear Daphne?”

Quinn said, “Yes, both of you called at the same time. Let’s go one at a time: Daphne, if you would.” He pinched his fingers out, and the two mirrors expanded in size so that he could get a better look at them.

Daphne’s background was what Quinn recognized to be her room. He recognized the shades of lilac along with gold and white in the original green room. “Death Eaters have taken over Hogsmeade, and the Dark Lord has cast a ward that has trapped everyone inside Hogwarts and Hogsmeade,” she said in one breath.

Ivy continued from a place that didn’t look like her dorm room, “The Aurors have been informed, and the DMLE has already deployed forces to the area outside the ward.”

“. . . What?” Quinn jerked up and sat up on his bed. He looked incredulously at Ivy and Daphne. “I. . . What— When did this happen? How are you? Is everything alright? Ivy, where are you?”

“Calm down; nothing has happened yet,” said Ivy. “I’m in the Room of Requirements. . . needed a little space.”

What followed was Quinn getting a download from the girls. They told how they had been woken up and asked to gather in the Great Hall, where Dumbledore addressed the situation they were in, and how Ivy later was pulled aside by Lily and got to talk to James and was able to get some additional facts from the Auror Office’s side.

“Father and mum already know,” Daphne said, and now after having been given the shocking news, he could see the traces of worry and anxiousness on her face.

Quinn bit the inside of his cheek— he was late.

“What about the Hogwarts defenses?” he asked. “Has the Dark Lord tried to breach them?”

“I. . . I don’t know,” Daphne said. Ivy shook her head as well.

“What about Hogsmeade? How many were able to get out before the Death Eaters got to them?” Quinn asked Ivy, knowing there were a bunch of Labyrinth doors inside the village.

“The Aurors don’t know how many Death Eaters are exactly inside Hogsmeade, but there were enough that only a few— who had wards around their homes— could escape,” Ivy bit her lips.

Quinn clicked his tongue. People were idiots. Even though he had put in the efforts to launch Aegis, his family had marketed the service and streamlined the process to install the ward, but people were ignorant enough to not put them up around their homes. The people with wards had plenty of time to get out of their beds, walk to the Labyrinth door in their house, and leave without looking back.

“Have the Aurors established any contact with the Death Eaters?” asked Quinn.

“Nothing yet,” said Ivy.

Quinn closed his eyes for a moment before turning to Daphne, “Can you please go stay with Luna for a while. . . take your mirror with you.”

Daphne nodded.

“Thank you,” said Quinn with a comforting smile. “I’ll be there in a bit. Don’t worry, everything will be alright.”

Quinn bid goodbye to them and closed the mirrors. The comforting smile he had held up until the end drained away. He hopped off his bed, went into the bathroom, and stood under the shower for ten minutes as magic cleaned him.

It was time, he thought. Voldemort was outside Hogwarts and had created a situation that couldn’t be taken any other way than a straight-out declaration of war in the form of a terrorist attack. This was going to be it. Everything he had been doing for years was for this thing.

He looked down at the chain dangling from his neck with the Deathly Hallows piece.

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– (Scene Break) –

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Quinn apparated out to the countryside, painted in green. He looked around and saw the stamped-out path between the grass. He was surrounded by trees and flowers that grew in patches; there wasn’t a single sign of urbanization in sight in the quaint village known as Ottery St. Catchpole. The village had both muggle and magical communities, the latter being quietly established after the Statute of Secrecy in the 17th century.

He looked up as the wind whipped his air back. On the top of a small hill stood a strange-looking house that rose vertically against the sky, a great black cylinder shaped like the rook chess piece of the black color. Aptly named the Rook. He walked up the hill and saw the hand-painted signs that hadn’t changed since the last time he had been here.

「THE QUIBBLER. EDITOR: X. LOVEGOOD」

「PICK YOUR OWN MISTLETOE」

「KEEP OFF THE DIRIGIBLE PLUMS」

The picket fence creaked as he opened it. The zigzagging path leading to the front door was overgrown with a variety of odd plants, including a bush covered in the orange radish-like fruit. His eyes lingered on a Snargaluff and gave the wizened stump a wide berth. There were two aged crab apple trees without many leaves bent because of the wind, though they were still heavy with berry-sized red fruits and bushy crowns of white-beaded mistletoe. The trees stood as sentinels on one side of the front door. A little owl with a slightly flattened, hawklike head peered down at them from one of the branches.

He rapped three times on the thick black door, which was studded with iron nails and bore a knocker shaped like an eagle. Barely ten seconds passed, then the door was flung open, and there stood Xenophilius Lovegood, barefoot and wearing what appeared to be a stained nightshirt. His long white candyfloss hair was dirty and unkempt.

“What? What is it? Who are you? What do you want?” he cried in a high-pitched, querulous voice, but then his mouth fell open in a perfect, comical O. “Oh, it’s you, Quinn. How are you, son? You have gotten fatter since we last met.”

“Hello, Mr. Lovegood,” said Quinn. “Would it be okay if I came in? There’s something I would like to tell you.”

“Of course, of course, come in, come in.”

Quinn stepped in and again found himself in the most peculiar kitchen he had ever been in. The room was perfectly circular so that it felt like being inside a giant pepper pot. Everything was curved to fit the walls— the stove, the sink, and the cupboards — and all of it had been painted with flowers, insects, and birds in bright primary colors. Quinn recognized Luna’s style: The effect, in such an enclosed space, was slightly overwhelming— he had seen similar flairs in the AID office. In the middle of the floor, a wrought-iron spiral staircase led to the upper levels. There was a great deal of clattering and banging coming from overhead.

“Let’s go up,” said Xenophilius.

The room above seemed to be a combination of a living room and workplace and, as such, was even more cluttered than the kitchen. Though much smaller and entirely round, the room somewhat resembled the Room of Requirement on the unforgettable occasion that it had transformed itself into a gigantic labyrinth comprised of centuries of hidden objects. There were piles upon piles of books and papers on every surface. Delicately made models of creatures Quinn recognized Luna telling him about, all flapping wings or snapping jaws, hung from the ceiling.

Luna was not there: The thing that was making such a racket was a wooden object covered in magically turning cogs and wheels. It looked like the bizarre offspring of a workbench and a set of old shelves that Quinn knew was an old-fashioned printing press churning out Quibblers.

“Excuse me,” said Xenophilius, and he strode over to the machine, seized a grubby tablecloth from beneath an immense number of books and papers, which all tumbled onto the floor, and threw it over the press, somewhat muffling the loud bangs and clatters. He then faced Quinn.

“Why have you come here?”

Quinn waved his hand, and a chair appeared in the middle of the room. “Please sit down,” he said.

Xenophilius shrugged, sat down on the chair, shifted in, and got comfortable. “This is a nice chair, would you get me a real one? Or you can leave this one here and come back when this one disappears. . . so tomorrow?”

“More like half a year. . . but I will get you a good chair, Mr. Lovegood— right now, I have something to talk to you about.”

“I am listening.”

“Sir. . . Death Eaters has taken over Hogsmeade,” Quinn paused and let the words sink in. Xenophilius’ flighty eyes returned back to earth as he stared at Quinn. “The Dark Lord lead the invasion and has taken the entire village as his hostage. Then he proceeded to cast a ward over the village. . . the castle. . . and the area around— all have been locked off to the outside. The Dark Lord plans to break the Hogwarts defenses and kill the Boy-Who-Lived. The defenses stand strong, and Dumbledore is inside—”

“Luna. . .” Xenophilius looked ghastly and aged decades; all the quirky joy had vanished. “My Luna. . .”

Quinn saw the man in front of him spiraling, so he injected magic into his voice and said, “Luna is safe, Mr. Lovegood. DMLE has occupied their area. . . Hogwarts is the safest place in the country. . . Dumbledore will die before he lets the Dark Lord touch the kids— he holds the Elder wand, sir, the Elder wand.”

The magic seeped into Xenophilius, and his eyes remained fixed on Quinn. The panic and despair were absent as the old father hung onto Quinn’s words.

“The Elder wand. . . the Deathly Hallow?” muttered Xenophilius.

“Yes sir, the Deathly Hallow. Albus Dumbledore and the Elder wand. . . that’s something even the Dark Lord will struggle against. Luna will be safe.” Quinn took out the mirror from his pocket and injected magic into it. The mirror surface shimmed a couple times before Daphne’s face became visible.

Quinn spoke with magic, so it wasn’t heard by Xenophilius: “Luna,” he said. Daphne nodded, and the image in the mirror changed to Luna’s. For a moment, he just stared at her— it had been a long time since he had seen her. . .

“Mr. Lovegood, look who it is,” Quinn said and handed the mirror to Xenophilius.

“Daddy?” came Luna from the mirror.

“Luna? Luna!” Xenophilius brightened up at the sight of her daughter inside the mirror. “Oh, my dear sweetheart. . .”

Quinn exited the room and walked downstairs, giving the father and daughter some space. He sat down in the kitchen and stared outside the window at the sky. He took in the silence. It was probably going to be the last peaceful moment he was going to have until everything in a while— he savored it.

Time passed. Not once did he go up to check on Xenophilius. Eventually, he heard footsteps coming down the stairs. Quinn turned to see Xenophilius looking much more relieved than before, but there was still a worry in the line on his face.

“How is she?” asked Quinn.

“Grand, she says. . . she looked well.” Xenophilius placed the mirror on the table in front of Quinn, “She told me to return it to you. . . thank you.”

“You don’t need to be. Anything for Luna.” Quinn stood up. “I will now leave, sir. . . . Sir, I promise, I will bring Luna back home safely. So please rest assured.” He walked to the door and was about to leave when he heard.

“You will bring her home safely. . . how? The Dark Lord—”

“The Dark Lord won’t harm her,” Quinn didn’t look back. He paused, and when he spoke again, a guttural, distorted voice said: “I will kill him before he so much as he breathes in the same area as her.”

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Quinn West – MC – Oh boy, finally screen time.

Xenophilius Lovegood – Father – Eccentric, Eccentric, Eccentric.

FictionOnlyReader – Author – If you notice in the , the Invisible Vigilante uses a wand.