It was early in the morning.
Quinn placed his dirty breakfast dishes into the sink. The cleaning utensils rose as the water spouted from the tap, and soap bubbled up in the sink. He shook his hands, and a scouring scrubbed his hands clean as he moved towards the condo's front door in Central London. The suitcase
flew into his grip as he walked out to greet the new day.
"Good morning, John!"
As Quinn locked the door to his rental house, he heard a chirpy shrill voice. He looked to the left to see a plump, homely woman with a big red smile walking towards with the energy of a hundred suns. Even though he was wide awake, he found this neighbor of his to be too bright.
"Mrs. Carrott," he put on a smile, "a good morning to you as well. I hope you're doing well today."
"I'm chipper if nothing else. Off to work, dear?" she beamed. When Quinn nodded, she asked, "Have you given it a thought, dear? Angela is a sweet church-going girl and very beautiful. I'm sure you both will like each other. Should I set up a meeting?"
Quinn sighed inside. He was John. A twenty-something living alone in London, with parents in Liverpool. He had designed the looks of the current version of 'John' to be such that people wouldn't give him a second look— not attractive, but also unattractive enough to catch the eye. He was the image of mediocrity— just like he preferred. However, for some reason, Mrs. Carrott, his new neighbor, an idle housewife with nothing occupying her free time, fancied herself to be something of a matchmaker, and despite Quinn's current average features, she found him to be a target of her matchmaking.
All of it was because of the details he had put in his background. A college graduate working a corporate job in finance that he had given himself as it was easiest for him to pretend. That background seemed to be a big plus point in her eyes. Moreover, even with his current background, he wasn't able to leave behind his style of clothes— which were high-grade suits. . . and that ended up giving Mrs. Carrott the idea that he made good money. . . which while true, wasn't supposed to be a part of his disguise.
"I would've to pass, Mrs. Carrott. I'm currently not looking to be in a relationship," even though he was out, living under disguise, it didn't mean that he was untethered from his two very thriving relationships. "Right now, I'm trying to keep myself focused on my job. . . it would be unfair to Angela."
Quinn thought he had made his point, but it turned out he was wrong. Mrs. Carrott waved her hand in dismissal, "Oh, you don't need to overthink this. Meet her once, and if you still think it will be a problem, this old lady will give it a rest."
Quinn ticked his neck. He had been listening to this spiel for a few days now— the first thing when he left home and the last thing before he returned back— it was in small doses, but the irritation had pilled up.
"Mrs. Carrott. . . you're not a nice person."
". . . Pardon?"
"You barely know me. . . nowhere enough that you should be trying to set up your cousin's daughter with a stranger who you nothing of substance about."
Mrs. Carrott was stunned with the surprised eye, but the more she heard, the more offended she got. She burst open like a cap on a shaken-up soda. "Listen here, young man—"
Quinn raised his hand, and the woman sent zip silent. "I didn't want to use magic, as it undermines my disguise and acting skills, but I think this will be the best for both of us." He gently nudged her broad wrinkled forehead, and her eyes turned white, "Let's make it so that you lose interest in your new neighbor," he planted some key suggestions, "and I will do you by not showing you my face for a while to let the suggestions set."
Quinn turned Mrs. Carrott around and pushed her towards her home with the final suggestion of going to sleep to cement his suggestions in her mind.
After he was done with the annoying neighbor problem, Quinn exited the condo building situated in a safer middle-class area. He looked around the silent residential block. For the first time in his life, he was living on his own in a place of his own— it was unlike Hogwarts, where he had roommates and was aided by a staff of house-elves under the eye of school professors— here, he had total freedom from everyone other than his house owner who he had to pay rent.
But he had to say, he wasn't expecting his first freedom living situation to come this way. Running away from home, hiding from all the parties that could be looking for him. He had thought this time would come after he had completed his apprenticeship with Alan because the old mind master had said that if Quinn wanted to learn, then he had to stay with him.
He looked up at the sky with sparse clouds. Living out of his suitcase in an empty studio apartment was yet another thing that his actions forced him to do.
"Time to go to work, I guess," he cleared his throat before apparating out of the empty street.
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- (Scene Break) -
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It was a Hogsmeade weekend, and the students of Hogwarts were pouring down to the all-magical village. . . was what it would be like in any other year, but this year Dark Lord Voldemort had shown his face enough times that the much-anticipated outings were canceled, disappointing and frustrating many youths who looked forward to it.
Hogwarts had been advertised as the safest place in the country, and the trip needed to go to maintain that image.
But not all could be kept inside like caged birds. They needed their free space, especially when they received an enticing call from the outside world.
One such person was Daphne Greengrass, who had received a message on her secret MagiFax-ID, which including her only two people knew existed. The blonde Slytherin followed the path that Recon had pointed out to her, taking steps echoing in anticipation and impatience as he exited a secret passageway leading outside the castle.
And there he was, standing in front of the passageway. . . looking the same as he did the last time she had seen him. "Quinn!" Daphne exclaimed as she ran to him and leaped into his arm.
Quinn hugged Daphne back and clutched her close. He closed his eyes and just enjoyed the moment for what it was. Long-distance relationships where they couldn't meet, with letters and the occasional face-to-face chat was the only point of contact, were tough.
"I missed you," he whispered as he pulled her into a deep kiss.
"I missed you too," she replied with a smile, but after a while, as Quinn didn't let go, Daphne asked if something was wrong, "Quinn, is something wrong?"
". . . I missed you," he said again. He finally pulled back and let her go but kept her eyes on the girl of his dreams.
"What is it?" she asked, worry splashing in her eyes.
For a moment, the cat got Quinn's tongue. His mind was at war with his heart about if he should reveal the secret to her. He had already told his family; it was only normal that he told his girlfriend that they might go after her if someone came after him.
"I have to tell you something," he said and then willingly opened the vault to his secret. "I am the Invisible Vigilante. . ."
The amount of time stern-faced Daphne's expression jumped may have been a personal record as she went through an entire range of emotions. By the end of it, she was on edge as the story that Quinn had told her only went up and up. He made sure to keep the information about the Horcrux out of the story as that wasn't a secret for him to share.
"You. . . you faced the Dark Lord twice!" her dainty fingers clutching his clothes until they turned white. "You could've died! I-I could've lost you. You were thirteen years old?! You-You-You—"
"I have killed people," said Quinn with his head down. "And I know if you wanted to not associate with me, that. . . would be fine with me. It would be better for you to not associate with me as it may bring you uninvited trouble." Quinn continued under Daphne's eye, who single-mindedly stared at him. "But don't worry, I will continue to treat Astoria. I've improved since we started, meaning if I wanted, I can switch it to one every two months while maintaining the safety standard; I think that'll be better for everyone. . . Daphne? Daphne?"
"I-I don't know how to feel about it," she said, and Quinn pulled away at those words, but Daphne pulled him back close, "but I know that I don't want to leave or have you leaving me. . . so don't talk about this nonsense."
The words brought warmth to Quinn's heart. He was frightened that the blood on his hands would drive away. But here he was with his girlfriend, who had shown a reaction much more favorable than he could've ever imagined. He could see her hesitation and turmoil in her eyes, but he couldn't see fear while she stood close to him without— there was no revulsion about what he had told her.
It felt great. Ever since he left the house, his grandfather's reaction when he told him the truth dominated his mind; the fact that he had used magic against him bothered him like a splinter in the sole of his feet. Telling Daphne and seeing her reaction felt like he was in the healing room of the Aquatic vault but much-much better.
"Saying that, I don't like that you're going around who knows where hunting Death Eaters. It is dangerous, and I would rather you stop and let your grandfather take care of the mess with Dumbledore." Daphne sighed as she looked up at him, "But you're not going to stop, are you?"
Quinn shook his head. He had gone far too long to just hang the coat and return home.
"Just. . . Just try to be safe, okay? I-I wouldn't know what to do if you suddenly went missing." She clutched his arms tightly, "You have to talk to me every day. . ." She reached into her pocket and took out a pair of mirrors that looked awfully familiar to the ones that he and Ivy shared— but on a closer look, it was of a different design. "I made ones on my own; I want you to talk to me every day; I won't take no for an answer."
Quinn received the mirror and stared at the reflective surface. He could tell it was supposed to have the same function, but the magic used to create that functionality was different from Ivy's mirror.
". . . Thank you, this means a lot," he said.
"Have you told her?" she asked.
Quinn shook his head as he looked up at the castle. "Not yet. I have yet to meet or talk to her. . . it is going to be another challenge in its own way."
"Do you want me to put in a word?"
"No. . . it is fine. I will do it on my own."
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-*-*-*-*-*-
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Quinn West - MC - Time for truth.
Daphne Greengrass - Comforting - Has learned to get things out of Quinn when needed.
