HP: A Magical Journey-Chapter 433: Last Cut...

Dumbledore stared at the Ravenclaw’s Diadem in Quinn’s hand. The platinum frame of the headpiece was adorned with a large blue gem whose glow tainted the clear diamonds studded all around the frame in a cerulean light that looked like moonlight reflecting off a lake’s surface.

“Where did you find the Lady Ravenclaw’s Diadem?”

Quinn glanced at Dumbledore before opening the seal on the glass case that trapped the Horcrux and prevented it from spreading its influence to ensnare anyone except Voldemort to put it on their head to cast a dark curse so that it could protect itself from any potential danger.

“It was inside Hogwarts,” Quinn said.

“. . . What?”

“Voldemort had hidden it inside Hogwarts on the day you refused him the professor position. He decided to hide it inside the supposed safest place in the country, in a place he thought only he knew. Unfortunately for him, I found it.” The glass case opened, and Quinn directly took out the diadem. He could hold it close without falling under the influence because he was capable of doing so— of course, the Horcrux could still make him fall in moment’s weakness; as such, he still had to be careful, for the Horcrux was a silent beast looking for a chance to strike.

“It will be easier this time to establish the connection,” Quinn said. “But if Voldemort’s going to be more vicious, the reduced time won’t make things any easier.”

“I will keep him off of you.”

“I almost got turned into a charred piece of steak. You’re fortunate I don’t scare easy, or else Voldemort won’t be injured right now.” The fire that almost engulfed him would have melted his skin and muscle off his bones, taking care of nature’s work of decomposition when he was buried— that is, if there was anything left to bury.

“He won’t reach you,” Dumbledore said assuringly.

The whipping winds around Voldemort began to die down, and the spiraling debris fell to the ground, shaking it a little and covering the entire in a dust cloud.

“After this, I’m going to spend my time in a place with absolutely no dust,” Quinn said, clearing the dust inside his clothes.

When the dust cleared, Voldemort stood in the middle of the floating debris. The Dark Lord’s blood-red eyes glowed a sharp red, making him look like Terminator programmed with the sole mission to kill him. Voldemort raised his wand, and suddenly Quinn’s entire vision was flooded with sharp light making him shut his eye due to the pain.

Instincts kicked in. Quinn modified his eyes and opened them with a clear vision just to see Voldemort standing a couple of inches from him, looking down at him with his menacing look. Quinn’s throat closed up a moment before all the magic he could muster rushed out— but the next moment, he felt a hand on his shoulder, and Voldemort disappeared into the mist.

Quinn looked to his shoulder and saw Dumbledore’s hand on his shoulder. “I can only do much against mind magic,” Dumbledore said.

Quinn cracked his neck and growled, “Keep him busy.” He grabbed the diadem in one and the Resurrection Stone in the other and began channeling magic.

Dumbledore stepped forward and warded off a plume of dark poisonous gas heading towards Quinn. He

“GET OUT OF MY WAY, DUMBLEDORE!” Voldemort’s voice sounded demonic— befitting a Dark Lord. His magic so destructive that every time he waved his wand, Earth would gain a new scar on her face. Against a furious Voldemort, Dumbledore seemed like a busy assembly line worker trying to keep up with the constant stream of work coming his way.

“I’M GOING TO KILL YOU, WEST! AND, IT’S NOT GOING TO BE PAINLESS!” Voldemort screamed. “I’m going to cut your arms and legs off and keep your body alive until I know what I need to know! GET READY TO LIVE A NEW LIFE UNTIL YOU ARE DEAD!”

Quinn didn’t look toward the person shouting death threats and continued his focus on establishing a connection with Voldemort’s soul. He thought it would be much more difficult to get a hold of Voldemort’s soul, but the man had no defense on his soul.

‘It was my fault,’ Quinn thought. ‘I can’t compare everyone to Alan.’ Voldemort might have split his soul into Horcruxes, a form of soul magic; he couldn’t expect everyone to hide and protect their souls. ‘He is arrogant enough to think he’s invincible; it makes sense.’

Unlike Alan’s soul, which was blurry and harder to pinpoint when using soul sense, Voldemort’s soul was clearly visible— thus, a very easy target to get a hold of. It was the next part, establishing the connection, which was difficult.

‘But now, I know how to do it, so. . .’ Quinn pumped magic into the Resurrection Stone and felt his body fill up with power and his soul sing with exhilaration— for a moment, he felt that his soul could exert an effect on the material world. For a moment, he wondered if this is how using a wand felt— sans the dreadful feeling.

Quinn conjured a strand of Empyrean in his hand. The red thread shined in his palm. Next, he inserted the soul power into it, and it bloomed into a beautiful golden. Quinn spotted Voldemort through his soul sense, and the golden Empyrean didn’t need to be physically shot towards Voldemort, just a thought and— “Got. . . him!”— Voldemort had a golden line sticking out of his chest with the other end connected to the diadem.

Immediately, Voldemort’s magic became erratic, and a large screech tore through the air. Quinn looked up and saw a mass of black smoke shaped like a vulture hovering in the sky with burning red lights as eyes. It flapped its wings, and all the wreckage was thrown into the air because of the sheer air pressure. Quinn had to form a sturdy earthen wall behind him and just lay flat against it to not let himself be blown away.

A yellow spell shot up from Dumbledore’s wand up into the sky. It entered the vulture, and the black smoke turned yellow before getting sucked into a large yellow ball that exploded into an expanding ring.

Knowing Voldemort won’t listen to him, Quinn laughed, “Taking my arms and legs? That’s just stealing my style. You can take it, though. I’m into cutting souls right now!” He raised the Basilisk venom dagger, slashed at the golden soul line, and relished the scream that followed.

He also knew that Dumbledore switched from protecting him to attacking Voldemort without killing him. If killed while there was a Horcrux still intact, Voldemort’s soul would turn into a specter, unable to pass onto the afterlife. But they didn’t know what would happen if they destroyed the last Horcrux while Voldemort’s soul was in specter form. The rationale would say that with no anchor, the soul would pass through the natural progression— but there was no proof, so they couldn’t be sure. And in a situation like this, they couldn’t go without evidence. It would mean letting Voldemort go, and that wasn’t an option in any scenario.

Quinn took out the glass case, put the diadem back, and dropped the entire thing down on the ground. He took out a small purple pill, almost black— dropped it into the glass container before closing it shut. The pill dissolved into smoke that filled the box— there was a shrill shriek followed by a distinctly colored black smoke.

Quinn heaved as he looked at the now destroyed Horcrux. While casting the Killing Curse would’ve been faster, the magic took a heavy magical toll on the caster— Quinn could’ve easily shrugged it if he was at full reserves, but for the first time in his life, he didn’t have a full tank outside of controlled environment— usually, he was only in this state at night after exhausting his reserve slowly throughout the day. This was different. The soul magic exacted a high cost.

‘This would take multiple people to pull off,’ Quinn thought, clearing his dry throat. He slowly took out one more glass case— this one had a heavy locket studded with green gems in the shape of serpentine ‘S’ on the top— the last Horcrux, Slytherin’s Locket.

Dark Lord Voldemort made seven Horcruxes. Quinn destroyed Tom Riddle’s Diary to kill the ghost of Tom Riddle. He destroyed Marvolo Gaunt’s Ring because he wanted the Resurrection Stone. Harry Potter was sent and back to Limbo for the Prophecy. Nagini was killed because she didn’t fit the equation and to keep Voldemort from retreating. That left behind three Horcruxes he had never destroyed, just collected them into his safety.

They were going to come to use someday.

That someday was today.

“Last one to go,” Quinn took out the locket by its chain and stared at the rotating locket. Everything was about to be over, and then he’d be free of everything— “Ready for a new start. . . Come on, now. . . only one to go.”

He closed his eyes and felt the power of Resurrection Stone fill him. It made him feel rejuvenated. Body, mind, and soul— the Trifecta— were connected, and when one was slumped on the floor, the others were affected, and similarly, when one was cycling through the clouds, the others were feeling the cloudy fluff as well.

“I have to end this quick.” He wriggled his arms and legs. “Before I get addicted to this.” He pushed the magic into the locket. It heated up before an invisible line shot from it towards the crater formed by Voldemort and Dumbledore’s fighting in which they fought right now. He just needed to make the invisible line into a golden, sparkling one.

Quinn closed his eyes again and began to concentrate. Boom! He snapped his eyes open and saw a Giant-sized stone golem roaring like an ancient monstrosity.

The said monstrosity turned towards Quinn and stomped towards him with a giant stone hammer-ax. Even the steps were enough to knock Quinn off balance for days— only his magic kept him steady. Quinn gazed at the golem come closer to him step by step. He knew Dumbledore would protect him, but seeing something so large caused an instinctual fear to beat inside him.

Step— Boom! Step— Boom! Step— Boom!

There were only so many steps the giant could take with its size to cover ground. It raised its foot, and the area around Quin descended into the darkness with no moonlight.

‘Come on!’

Zap— Boom! A spell streaked through the air and exploded the foot. Quinn conjured a very weak shield— the only thing he could with his focus on the soul magic— but it was barely capable of protecting from the rock shower.

The streaking spells continued, and within seconds, the golem was reduced to a hail of boulders that would’ve entombed Quinn if not for his shield. Quinn groaned as he felt every rock and boulder that fell down on him through his magic.

He quickly reaffirmed his focus and began working on the connection. The invisible line began to turn solid in his eyes, looking more and more like a ghostly golden.

The seconds began to slip by as the magic crept closer, and with it, Quinn’s heartbeat. Sweat beaded down his forehead, traveling down his face— dripping down from his nose and chin as he stared hard at the locket.

“Almost there,” Quinn gulped, and his throat hurt. The golden line became thicker and thicker— one moment, and it would become real. “Here. . . we g—”

The imaginary (almost real) line shattered into pieces as Quinn felt a jolt in his back. Foreign magic coursed through his body. He recognized the magic. It was a stunner. It wasn’t powerful enough to knock him out. Proven by the fact that even in Quinn’s current state, he stood without even a hint of distortion in his senses.

But it was enough to shatter the delicate soul magic he was casting.

Quinn slowly turned back to face his attacker, anger rising inside of him. Things were so close to completion that he could almost smell it in the air, only for his sense of smell to be taken away before he could even enjoy the scent.

He saw the man with his wand raised. Quinn could tell the man’s mediocre skill from the distance between them. It was in the average range distance a stunner could travel before it lost its integrity and fizzled away.

Such a mediocre man had disrupted his magic.

“I know you,” Quinn growled, his blood boiling as if he was using blood magic. “I know you. . . Rivers Lock.”

Rivers Lock, the founder of Novellus Accionites, now a member of the Dark Lord’s Death Eaters, stood facing Quinn with his wand trained ahead.

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Quinn West – MC – I am not feeling very good right now.

FictionOnlyReader – Author – I think the fight ends .

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