[The chapter is edited by my Editor: Alan_Loo/AlanL]
Quinn sat down on the chair in a semi-ornate and elegant office. To his front was the office's owner, who sat behind a desk.
"I assume we're going to talk about the Greengrass and Potter matters," asked Quinn.
"Yes, we are," replied the older gentleman. "I understand the Potters, but you didn't tell me anything about the Greengrass family. What relation do you have with them?"
It was the day after Quinn had returned from Hogwarts. He was sitting in his grandfather's office talking about his associations with children of affluent and well-connected families.
"The Potters want to invite me to show hospitality and their gratitude for having helped them out. When their invitations arrive, I'll reply at my own discretion," answered Quinn before moving on to the next family.
"... The Greengrass matter is a bit more complicated and yet so simple," sighed Quinn. "The Greengrass bloodline suffers from a blood curse, a generational curse that is passed along to the descendants. It causes them to have a limited lifespan and an even weaker constitution. The curse skips generations and doesn't affect everyone, but this generation was out of luck."
"This curse resurfaced? Who is it?"
"Astoria Greengrass, the younger of the Greengrass children. She bears the curse and with it, all its malignant effects," answered Quinn thinking about the weak Astoria that he saw in the hospital wing bed.
"And you have a way to cure the blood curse?"
Quinn shook his head in rejection. "No, I'm not able to cure it. If I had the cure, we wouldn't have this talk. I would've cured her, and that would have been the end."
"It seems you've made friends. Friends you don't mind helping out with nothing in return."
"Yes, I have. I have made a few close friends," nodded Quinn. "I gave Astoria my word that I would help her mitigate the symptoms of the blood curse whenever she needed. And I assured her older sister that I will continue to palliate Astoria's symptoms until a cure is found or discovered. And that can be in many, many years from now."
"How have you been able to help the younger daughter? I'm sure the Greengrass Family must have been looking for the cure for centuries."
Quinn sighed and then raised his hands. He willed his magic and his forearm glowed in a fiery red light, highlighting his veins.
"Blood magic," sighed Quinn. He didn't want to show magics that were questionable from a moral point of view. "I used blood magic to repress the curse. It worked wonders because the blood curse has been created with the same branch of magic."
He didn't go into the details of the magic as it wasn't necessary.
"Blood magic. Yes, I remember there being a few books in your collections. I just hoped it would be a while till you started to dabble in dangerous magic," sighed George West. "The books weren't from around here, that's for sure. Are you sure it's safe for you? Any dangers in general?"
"There aren't. It's just like any healing spell. I won't be in danger of any harm from the blood curse and neither will Astoria," answered Quinn.
"So what do you want me to do? She's your friend. Of course you can continue to heal her," said George.
"Astoria is my friend, but Jacob Greengrass isn't. He is the Greengrass householder," said Quinn. "I was thinking you could use this opportunity to build some positive and profitable ties with the Greengrass Family. I will leave the matters to you. I will continue to heal Astoria regardless of whether you get a partnership or not."
"Mhm, you think Jacob Greengrass will likely show some goodwill towards us because you're healing his daughter."
"Yes, his daughter will continue to receive my treatment. If you could take advantage of the situation, strike a deal and start a business venture together, it will be a win-win for everyone. I'm sure Jacob Greengrass will be thrilled to do business with us and, thus, he will be quite proactive," suggested Quinn, seeing this situation as a viable business opportunity.
George nodded. He agreed that this would indeed be a good business opportunity.
"Alright, after Jacob Greengrass sends over a letter, I shall set up a meeting. We'll see if he wants to cooperate."
Quinn nodded. He didn't want to be part of such matters.
"Now, about the Potters?" asked George.
"What about them?"
"Do you want us to go with you?"
"Hmm, if you want. You're welcome to join me," said Quinn. He shrugged. He didn't care whether his grandfather came along with him or not.
"I see, then I won't be coming along," declared George. "I've nothing to talk about with the Potter Family. You could ask Lia. Perhaps she'll want to come with you."
"Alright, I'll ask Lia." nodded Quinn.
"Anything else you want to talk about?" trying to end the conversation. He needed to leave for a meeting in a while.
"Oh, yes. I want to learn apparition, so I'll need you to book me an apparition course..." said Quinn, and when he saw George didn't look averse to the idea, he continued. "... in Denmark."
George was about to agree but then stopped at Quinn's words. "In Denmark? Why?"
"They have legalized under-seventeen apparition there, so I thought, if I am going to learn apparition, why not learn it where it's legal at my age," shrugged Quinn, explaining his reasoning to his grandfather. "Also, I thought it would be fun to get out of the country for a week."
"A week?" smiled George. "Are you implying that it will take you only a week to learn how to apparate? That's too little time to learn apparition, don't you think?"
A smile of confidence surfaced on Quinn's face as he replied, "Of course not, I'm sure it will take longer to become a master, but I'm sure I'll get the basics down in under a week. Enough to get around, I presume."
George tapped his finger on his desk. He gazed at Quinn for a few seconds before nodding.
"Alright, I will arrange your travel and stay. One of our associates will chaperon you while you stay in Denmark."
"I don't require a chaperon," rebuked Quinn.
"Of course, I understand, yet I insist that there be one," inquired Geroge. "Of course, whomever I choose won't restrict your movements. They will only make sure that you're safe."
Quinn sighed. He knew that no matter what he said, it wouldn't work. George West had decided it, and Quinn wasn't feeling rebellious enough to defy his grandfather.
"Please choose someone fun. At least someone who is... flexible. You know, not reluctant to do some exploration," asked Quinn.
George smiled in reply.
"I shall see what I can do."
- (Scene Break) -
"You've become sloppy. Your fingers are rigid, the flow is terrible, and the sound, oh my ears, the sound. It's like the chords have been substituted by arpeggios."
Quinn winced as he played the piano. Listening to cutting taunts and criticism to his playing wasn't his cup of tea.
'Now I know why I never got the urge to play after I returned home,' thought Quinn as he continued to play Diabelli's Sonatina Op. 151.
He glanced over his shoulder to see his strict piano teacher looking at him disapprovingly.
"I didn't have much time to regularly practice, Ms. Rosey," said Quinn. He was conscious that he had played the piano a little more than a handful of times.
"I didn't expect you to make excuses, young master," humphed Ms. Rosey as her eyes narrowed. "If one wants to make time, they'll find the time. It's called time management. If you want to make excuses, at least choose a believable one."
Quinn suppressed a groan but didn't stop playing, as stopping while playing a piece in the middle wasn't an option.
He closed his eyes, and the efficiency aspect of his occlumency came into play. His mind became sharper, and so did his control over his body.
The fingers became mechanical as the sound of the piano began to flow. It lacked individuality and emotions, but it was correct, precise, and how the piece was supposed to be played.
Ms. Rosey looked at the piano, then at Quinn's hands, and finally at Quinn. She didn't say anything until Quinn was done finishing the piece.
The piece was finally done, and Quinn's fingers finally came to a stop. He looked up at Ms. Rosey and asked, "How was the last act? It flowed, didn't it?"
"It was more than decent," nodded Ms. Rosey. "But you used magic as an aid. It wasn't your natural skill. But I will allow it. It will, at least, shake off the rust."
'I can't get a break,' sighed Quinn.
"I will get better than this by the end of the break," assured Quinn.
"No magic?"
"No magic," nodded Quinn. "Pure skill."
Quinn turned back to the piano and once again began playing. This time the piece was more mainstream: Mozart's Piano Sonata No. 12 in F Major.
He didn't use occlumency to improve his skill. The accuracy while playing was lower, but the individuality and emotion remained.
"Better," complimented Ms. Rosey as she could tell the difference.
As he continued to play, Quinn heard Ms. Rosey speak up again.
"I heard you'll soon be going to the Potter's for dinner?"
"Yes," replied with a furrow of his brow in confusion.
"I see. Then we shall revise your table manners and other skills. I want to see how bad you've gotten," sniffed Ms. Rosey. "I wonder how bad your manners have become after eating with children."
*Tang*
"Ms. Rosey!" whined Quinn and stopped playing with a discordant note. "My manners are fine. I consciously made sure they stayed the same, as you taught me to."
Quinn was expecting a hot retort in return, but he got a hand brushing through his hair.
"How else am I supposed to spend time with you?" asked the woman who had been the motherly figure for Quinn. "If I don't try to nag you, would you spend time with me?"
Quinn looked at the oldest person in the West manor. She was even older than his grandfather.
"Now, why would you say that?" asked Quinn as he stood up from his seat. "You just have to say it, and I'll spend all the time you want with you."
Out of all adults in his life, Quinn considered Ms. Rosey to be the one who influenced him the most. More than his grandfather, more this sister, more than Elliot and, finally, more than Alan.
Quinn's personality was an amalgam of qualities that he liked in the adults surrounding him. These qualities, along with his own base personality, had combined together to form the personality of Quinn West.
But the thing that first attracted people to Quinn was the way he held himself. The way he walked, sat, and moved his body was all thanks to Ms. Rosey.
People communicated in two ways. There was verbal and nonverbal communication. But what people often took for granted was body language, and the truth was that 70 to 93 percent of all communication was nonverbal.
Quinn's current personality was based upon his old personality. His old self from his previous life was still the base for his new one.
But Quinn's body language had nothing of his old one. Everything from his previous home had been erased, stripped away. He was the way he was now thanks to Ms. Rosey.
Quinn's body language accompanied his words with the backbone and backing that they needed. The slight gestures he made while talking, such as the tilt of his head, the movement of his hands, the way he sat, the balance of his weight while he stood… were what made his words gain that plus that made people listen to him.
Quinn liked magic, but what about the hard work that he put in? He was nowhere this hard-working in his previous life.
It was Ms. Rosey's constant pestering that forced him to work on things. He wasn't good at any of the things Ms. Rosey taught him, but her tutelage was what showed Quinn how good it felt when hard work paid off.
Quinn was sure that if he hadn't had Ms. Rosey in his life, Quinn wouldn't have been able to maintain the level of hard work he put in now.
"I promise that I will spend time with you," said Quinn as he gave Ms. Rosey a side hug. "You know I can't live with you. If you weren't here, I'd be lazy, like Lia."
Ms. Rosey lightly slapped Quinn's shoulder. She gave him a little smile.
"Your sister isn't lazy. I sometimes worry about that girl. Your grandfather makes Lia work a little too hard. Georgie needs to reel it in a little."
While Ms. Rosey had raised Quinn ever since he was a one-year-old baby, Ms. Rosey had also raised Lia ever since she was eleven years old. And similar to Quinn, she had been the only motherly figure to Lia, and that was even more important to Lia, as she was a girl.
Quinn smiled after he heard Ms. Rosey calling his grandfather 'Georgie'. That nickname would escape her mouth sometimes whenever she felt safe enough.
"She is fine after all, I guess," chuckled Quinn. "I'm sure she has fun after work. Besides, I think she is a secret workaholic."
Ms. Rosey shook her head before separating from Quinn. She, then, returned to her usual strict mode.
"Now, let's get to the piano," instructed Ms. Rosey. "I need to see you better than now by the end of summer."
Quinn smiled. As much as he enjoyed playing the piano on his own, as it calmed him down, playing with Ms. Rosey standing near his back let him feel nostalgia. It had another kind of charm.
- (Scene Break) -
Elliot watched as Quinn stood in their old wood shack near a herb garden that he and Quinn had built together when Quinn had been younger.
No one other than Quinn used the shack, and it would be in the summer breaks when Quinn would use it. Aside from that time, the shack would remain closed. Nevertheless, Elliot made sure the shack was kept functional throughout the year.
Last year, Quinn hadn't used it once because of his inability to use magic. He even refused to even touch the shack even after Elliot had offered to handle the magic portion of the potion brewing.
So it was a pleasant sight to Elliot to see Quinn working on potion brewing in the old shack where he taught Quinn the art of brewing.
"What are you brewing?"
Quinn looked up to see Elliot standing near the shack's door.
"Uncle Elliot, I didn't see you there," smiled Quinn as he moved to another table and retrieved a light yellow powder. "I'm performing some Alchemy."
Elliot's eyes widened when he heard Quinn.
"Alchemy! Young master, I didn't know you knew how to perform Alchemy."
Alchemy was an advanced branch of magic, and he didn't think that someone as young as Quinn would know how to perform Alchemy.
"I know a thing or two," smiled Quinn as he carefully sprinkled the yellow powder into the bubbling cauldron.
"What are you doing?" asked Elliot in fascination and curiosity. He had only met a few Alchemists in his life but he hadn't seen any of them work. So this was an exciting moment for him.
"I'm brewing a fertilizer of sorts," replied Quinn. "I've been working on alchemic solutions that encourage and enhance plant growth."
Quinn pointed at the cauldron in front of him and continued, "This one here is a solution that would enable the growth of a magical herb that only grows near the radiating heat of volcanoes. If I add this solution to a soil patch in our garden, that magical plant will grow here even if the environment isn't suitable for it."
A smile surfaced on Quinn's face as he observed the change inside the cauldron.
"It's almost ready," smiled Quinn.
Elliot saw Quinn raise his hand. Suddenly, orange magic beams appeared and entered the cauldron. That made Elliot gasp because in potion brewing, inserting external magic into a boiling brew was inviting an explosion to the face.
But this was alchemy, and it was all about external magic to push the magic essence of ingredients to create something extraordinary.
After Quinn was done, he stepped back as the brew inside the cauldron started to flash in earthy colors. The flashing lights grew stronger and brighter before everything died down, and what remained was a sizzling sound from inside the cauldron.
Quinn stepped closer, peaked inside the cauldron before turning to Elliot in satisfaction. "It's a success."
He collected the resulting solution, which had reduced from a full cauldron to a jug.
"Let's see this in action," grinned Quinn. He raised the jug full of the alchemic fertilizer and showed it to Elliot.
Elliot and Quinn walked to the herb garden, where Quinn had prepared a wide and shallow reinforced claw pot filled with soil from the garden.
"I don't want the other plants to be affected, so I'll be using it in here," explained Quinn to Elliot, who listened thoroughly. "The seeds are already in there, so let's pour it in and see the result."
Quinn poured the jug of alchemic solution into the soil, and the effects were instant.
The brown soil turned black as the solution seeped and spread throughout the pot. But it wasn't over, as the black soil also gained a red sheen that would very dully flash when the sun reflected on it.
Elliot could feel that the color change wasn't the only thing it changed. He could feel an intense heat coming from the pot. If he weren't looking, he would have thought that he was standing near a blazing fire.
"Now we will have to wait for a few days to see the results," guessed Elliot. "I'm looking forward to seeing how the plant will grow inside this soil."
"Oh, no, Uncle Elliot," chuckled Quinn. "While it would indeed take weeks for the plant to grow to full maturity. This is alchemy; a wondrous art."
Quinn pointed at the soil, and Elliot saw brown twigs emerge out of the hot black soil.
"The solution I brewed had a little boost in it. The sprouting of the seeds is the hardest part for this plant due to the conditions it grows in. But with alchemy, we'll be able to kick start that sprouting, and now every seed will be able to grow to maturity."
Elliot continued to watch as Quinn continued.
"This could also have been accomplished with potions, but it would've taken weeks or even months for me to brew a potion with similar effects," smiled Quinn. "Luckily, this is alchemy. I've been able to recreate months of potion brewing within a day. Uncle. I know you once said potions are the ultimate transformative magic, but I think alchemy takes that crown."
Elliot wordlessly nodded as he continued to see seeds sprout from inside the black soil.
Quinn West - MC - Back home and catching up.
George West - Grandfather - A lot of times, people can't refuse me.
Ms. Rosey - Motherly figure - Raised two excellent and talented children.
Elliot Dalton - Potion Master - Finally saw alchemy in person.
Comments