Quinn stood in front of a full-sized mirror inside his room, watching his reflection in the mirror. He wore a well-fitting white shirt and black denim pants layered with a hunter-green blouson jacket. His pants were fastened around his waist with a tan belt, and down in his feet were a pair of brown leather loafers over checkered grey socks.

Quinn’s appearance had evolved and transformed as he grew up. He was going to turn fifteen years old in a week and had changed a lot from his pre-teen eleven-years-old self at the start of Hogwarts to today, where he was a budding teen in his growing years.

Over the years, the innocent look of a child had transformed into a boyish youth of a teen. The smart appearance that Quinn was known for had gained a tinge of roguishness that people would miss if they weren’t looking closely.

His hairstyle, which was tapered on sides and back while the top kept short, giving him an easy to maintain Ivy league haircut, had slightly changed with his age. Now Quinn’s matte-black hair was kept short on the sides and back while the top part was of a medium length and styled into choppy, textured combed back layers with a side part.

Quinn’s wiry frame that came with his young age and daily workouts was finally experiencing change, with puberty kicking into full effect. In the last few months, his chest had widened, and not only his arms and legs grew faster, but he also gained some height, finally pushing past the hundred seventy centimeter mark and stopping at hundred seventy-six.

And the final change that came with puberty was Quinn’s voice. His vocal pitch deepened by nearly an octave. And the process of voice change to his adult voice finally started and would continue to deepen until his eighteenth or nineteenth birthday, as magical humans reached physical maturity by that age. After that, aging slowed down because of their increased lifespan than their non-magical counterpart.

The air and vibe around Quinn had also changed, not because of his age but because of his magic. Magic was an essential aspect of his life, maybe even the most vital part of his life. Quinn’s attitude and personality were deeply tied to his magic.

When Quinn had lost his magic, he rarely spoke to anyone and would like to remain alone rather than spend time with anyone. He became so obsessed with regaining his magic that Quinn pretty much ignored every person in his life and acted that he and his magic were the only two existences in the world.

Quinn lost his magic, regained it while suffering from pain. He came very close to dying from injuries and Dementors and had to time travel to save his life. Learned a magic that was much higher than his capabilities, beyond what he was currently capable of. And finally met with Dumbledore and got out without getting his mind read.

After all those ups and downs in a single year, Quinn had come out with a new level of maturity, confidence about his magical capabilities, and faith that he could come out of situations no matter what. He was much more comfortable with himself and felt secure with his magic beside him. And the trip to Denmark with the apparition lessons had given him the magic that increased his ability to move around, providing Quinn with a sense of freedom.

If previously, Quinn had a hidden and reserved attitude to his public persona, now he was coming out of his shell. For the first time since coming to this world, Quinn truly felt safe. He knew that with his family around, he would be safe from most dangers.

But Quinn always had that sense of urgency in the back of his head to get stronger so that he could be safe on his own. To be able to protect himself from dangers on his own without depending on others.

That was Quinn West’s thing: On His Own.

In many of Quinn’s retrospective sessions, he thought about why he had such a terrible reaction to a wand that clearly suited him and had chosen him to be its wielder. The answer that Quinn came up with was his view of magic: he wanted to be self-sufficient, free from any form of support and dependence, and that carried over to his magic.

Quinn wanted his magic to be always present with him so that if one day he was dropped buck naked into an unknown place, he would be able not only be able to survive but also return home safely with ease. But a wand stopped Quinn from achieving that. Take the magical focus from a magic-user, and except for a handful of people, everyone else would essentially lose their magic and be the same as non-magicals.

Even those handful of people couldn’t access their full capabilities if one took away their preferred choice of focus from them. But Quinn could confidently say that he was the same no matter what the situation.

And now here he was, standing in front of a full-sized mirror inside his room, straightening out his semi-casual clothes while checking them out to see if they were proper and if he looked presentable or not. Soon he had to leave for the Potter cottage in Godric’s Hollows for dinner with the Potter family.

“This will do,” nodded Quinn after confirming that his outfit was appropriate for the occasion. He turned away from the full-sized mirror beside which hung beside his closet and walked to his bed.

From the bed top, he picked up three white pockets shaped objects and one by one applied them to the inner lining of his hunter-green jacket. When white of the pocket-shaped fabric would touch the dark green fabric of the inner lining, threads would appear and stitch the white secure to the green, and then the white color would change to match the green.

These were Quinn’s trusty detachable pockets, spelled to have an expanded inside them. The idea had come to Quinn in his second: the year in which he had just begun working with fabrics and leather. Quinn had taken inspiration from a certain blue robotic cat, who had a half-moon-shaped pocket that held numerous fascinating gadgets.

The three pockets didn’t hold gadgets from the future. But the pockets did store the things Quinn wanted to carry with him: vials of numerous potions, safety equipment, a couple of tools, a lot of chocolate, two decks of cards, coins, and other miscellaneous things that Quinn always wanted on hand.

“Alright, I am ready. Let’s go,” said Quinn before exiting his room and walking to the general study of the mansion.

He entered the study to find the person he was searching for and found Ms. Rosey sitting in the sport that was usually reserved for her, and from the looks of it, she was working on the monthly budget and inventory of the West mansion.

“Ms. Rosey, I’m leaving for the dinner at Potters,” informed Quinn to the only adult in the house. Lia was in France with her friends while George and Elliot were out for business.

Ms. Rosey looked up from the account books at Quinn and gave him a look over, examining his outfit and judging if it was proper for the function he was going to attend.

“I still don’t understand why you enjoy muggle clothing so much,” sighed Ms. Rosey. The old caretaker was a conservative lady and didn’t understand the appeal of clothing from the non-magical society. “When will you return from the Potters?”

Seeing that Ms. Rosey didn’t critique his clothing meant that it passed her check and got her approval, meaning that he was good to go.

“It will end quickly, from what I am guessing. I will go there, converse a little before dinner time, enjoy a meal and wrap up things with a short after-meal talk,” shrugged Quinn. “I’m not particularly close to the Potter children, so I think it will be back just a little after grandfather and uncle come back home.”

“Do they have the floo prepared for your arrival?”

“I’m not traveling via the floo-network,” answered Quinn with a shake of his head. “I will be taking the Knight bus to Godric’s Hollows, and then I will walk to the Potter cottage.”

“Again, with the Knights bus, you have been using that service a lot, haven’t you?”

Ever since returning from Denmark, Quinn had stopped using floo-travel as a mode of transportation altogether. Instead, he had shifted to Knights bus to get around. Taking the bus was time-consuming, but it was all for the sake of magic.

“Ms. Rosey, I finally know apparition,” grinned Quinn. “I’ve to know the places so that I can pop by anytime I want. The Knight bus simply allows me to travel places I can’t travel by a floo-fireplace, especially the muggle ones. My current long-time goal is to map the entire country, so I can get anywhere via apparition.”

Apparition required the user to have memory or a clear image of the destination they wanted to visit. And that clear image could only be obtained by visiting the place and couldn’t be replicated by the destination’s image.

So Quinn, while he was outside of Hogwarts, was trying to use his time to go to important places so that he could increase the destinations he could travel to.

“But you can use the floo-fireplace to travel to the Potters,” pointed out Ms. Rosey.

“Yes,” nodded Quinn and then grinned in reply. “but the Knight bus is so much more fun.”

Ms. Rosey sighed at the teen in front of her and lightly waved her hand. “Alright, off you go. Remember to maintain decorum, go straight to the Potter cottage and return directly. Don’t take things from strangers, don’t follow anyone you don’t know, and if in trouble, immediately apparate. If you can’t apparate or get out of trouble, you know how to send an emergency signal.”

The emergency signal was a blaring alert system that Quinn had set up inside the West mansion. Everybody in the West family wore a piece of jewelry connected to the alert system in the manor. If, in any case, they were in trouble, the family member could use the jewelry to fire off the alert inside the mansion. Effectively send an SOS signal to get help.

“Ms. Rosey, I’m not a child anymore. You don’t have to repeat that every time I go outside,” pouted Quinn while touching the thin silver chain necklace with a hexagon piece hanging from it around his neck. This was the jewelry Quinn had chosen for himself and was connected to the emergency/SOS system inside the manor.

Ms. Rosey didn’t grace him with a reply and went back to work while ignoring Quinn. To her, Quinn would always be a child.

– (Scene Break) –

Quinn walked out of the West mansion gate, which he had been using a lot these days. As he exited, the enormous gate, which was slightly open, closed back up, and the chains that locked it went back around the two panels of the gate, binding the two together before the lock snapped into place.

“Maybe, I should talk to grandfather about changing this gate,” thought Quinn.

He didn’t mind opening the entire gate every time, and it wasn’t even a task because, with magic, he could do it every day, all day without breaking a sweat. But opening the gate just so that he could walk out seemed inefficient.

Quinn raised his hand with his fake wand in his grasp. The wand tip glowed as he held the fake wand over his head. He waited in silence as the fake wand tip glowed and gazed around to look for something noticeable.

It took a minute before the silence in the darkening evening sky broke, and there was a deafening BANG, which made Quinn involuntarily twitch.

‘I can’t get used to this even after all this time,’ sighed Quinn as he watched to see a gigantic pair of wheels and headlights screeched to a halt just in front of him. They belonged, as Quinn saw when he raised his head, to a triple-decker, violently purple bus, model name AEC Regent III RT, which had appeared out of thin air. Gold lettering over the windshield spelled The Knight Bus.

Then a conductor in a purple uniform leaped out of the bus and began to speak loudly to the night. “Welcome to the Knight Bus, emergency transport for the stranded witch or wizard. Just stick out your wand hand, step on board, and we can take you anywhere you want to go. My name is Kevin Kendall, and I will be your conductor this eve -“

The conductor stopped abruptly. He had just caught sight of Quinn, who was putting his fake wand back into his pockets.

“Oh, it’s you again,” spoke Kevin Kendall, who looked to be the age of eighteen or nineteen, with large, protruding eyes and a thick beard for his age, but that only meant that he could be below thirty.

Quinn had been using the Knights Bus for travel so much that Stan had gotten acquainted with him.

It was so ridiculous that when Quinn was visiting places, so that he could use apparition later, he would call upon the Knight Bus twenty times a day so that he could travel around. Quinn traveled so much that he was acquainted with a good part of the Knight Buses fleet and their conductors.

Unlike in the books, where the Knight Bus wasn’t explored in detail, Quinn had found that more than one Knight Bus was running all over the country. Every Knight bus operated in their own area and didn’t go out of their territory. Quinn’s destination list was so extensive that the conductors had come to recognize him.

“Good evening, Kevin,” greeted Quinn nodding to the recognizable conductor. “How are you today?”

The conductor didn’t reply to the question. Instead, he returned with a question. “Are you going to travel today?”

Quinn had called the Knight Bus to travel, or why else would he call upon it? But Quinn understood what Kevin meant. He meant if Quinn was going to a place, walk around that place to memorize a general layout and scenery before calling the Knight Bus again.

“No, Kevin. I’m not going to do that today. Just one place today,” answered Quinn.

Kevin looked a little disappointed because that meant that Quinn wouldn’t be shedding money to travel, which, in turn, meant that Kevin won’t be earning more today. All Knight Bus conductors not only got a base salary but also got paid on a commission basis.

“Alright, where do you want to go?” asked Kevin, going back to conductor mode.

“Godric’s Hollow,” answered Quinn and reached into his pockets. “How much will it cost me?”

Godric’s Hollow was a village in the West Country of England. The West Country was a region of south-western England. And covered the counties of Cornwall, Devon, Dorset, and Somerset, Wiltshire, Gloucestershire, and finally, Herefordshire, where West manor was situated.

This region of England also played home to many other wizarding families, including the Weasleys, Malfoys, Lovegoods, Diggories, Abbotts, Scamanders, and once the Dumbledores. Indicating that the region was densely populated as a residential area by the magical community.

“Eight sickles is the price,” quoted Kevin.

Quinn paid the amount and stepped onto the bus. There were no seats; instead, half a dozen brass bedsteads stood beside the

curtained windows. Candles were burning in brackets beside each bed, illuminating the wood-paneled walls. There were a couple of passengers other than Quinn sitting/lying on the beds.

He laid down on the bed as if it was his own home. Quinn knew what was about to come, and he was prepared for it.

Kevin walked up to the driver’s seat and spoke to the old driver, who had been driving the bus ever since its founding.

“Take ‘er away, Bol,” said Stan, sitting down in the armchair next to Bol’s.

There was another tremendous BANG, and the next moment Quinn found himself flat on his bed, pushed down by the speed of the Knight Bus. He had been thrown back a couple times before Quinn learned that it was best to start the journey lying down. Pulling himself up, Quinn stared out of the dark window and saw that they were now bowling along a path outlined by trees.

“Best go wake up Madam Marsh, Stan,” said Bol. “We’ll be in Wiltshire in a minute.”

Kevin passed Quinn’s bed and disappeared up a narrow wooden staircase. Quinn continued to look out of the window and recalled the first few rides on the bus. None of the Knight Bus drivers seemed to have mastered the use of a steering wheel, and it had freaked him half to his death. The Knight Bus kept mounting the pavement, but it didn’t hit anything; lines of lampposts, mailboxes, and trash cans jumped out of its way as it approached and back into position once it had passed.

Kevin came back downstairs, followed by a faintly green witch wrapped in a traveling cloak.

“Here you go, Madam Marsh,” said Kevin happily as Bol stamped on the brake and the beds slid a foot or so toward the front of the bus. Madam Marsh clamped a handkerchief to her mouth and tottered down the steps. Kevin threw her bag out after her and rammed the doors shut; there was another loud BANG, and they were thundering down a narrow country lane, trees leaping out of the way.

Bol slammed on the brakes, and the Knight Bus skidded to a halt in front of a small pub.

“Thanks,” Quinn said to Kevin.

Kevin tipped his conductor cap and then slammed the door close before there was another loud BANG, and the Knight Bus was off doing its duty.

Godric’s Hollow could be described as being quaint. There was a narrow road with look-a-like cottages that resided on either side of it. There were streetlights at the center of the village, indicating it as the square. Beyond that square was a church, and even though Quinn couldn’t see it, there was a graveyard behind the church.

“Now, which one is Potter cottage,” muttered Quinn as he walked inside the village and looked around the cottages on the side of the roads.

“Oh, I see them. These must be the homes,” spoke Quinn as he noticed non-magical-repellant charms and wards around some cottages riddled around the villages. “Which one of these belongs to the Potters.”

Quinn walked for a couple of minutes before he arrived at the edge of the village and saw a comfortably sized, two-story building with a small gate and hedges surrounding the front yard. He peered at the wall beside the door and saw the sign that read Potter.

He lifted the latch of the small gate and entered the well-maintained greens and lush front yard with a small garden with colorful flowers to the side. Quinn walked down the paved path from the small fence gate to the main door and knocked using the door knocker installed in place of a bell.

After half a minute, the door opened by the girl with red hair, and the moment their eyes met, Quinn greeted with a smile.

“Good evening.”

Quinn West – MC – Buses are useful.

Ms. Rosey – Conservative nature – Motherly figure.

Kevin Kendall – Conductor – Let’s keep ’em rolling.

Bol – Bus Driver – Even though it doesn’t seem like it, he’s a master of the wheel.