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The link is also in the synopsis.

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Scrivenshaft’s Quill Shop. Providing meeting rooms for the West family and associated since 1991. And today as well, the shop was hosting another meeting.

However, today, if the tense atmosphere inside the room on the first floor above the store was believed, the meeting didn’t look to be a happy one. Two people sat in the room, opposite each other, staring at each other from across the table.

“You knew,” said Ivy, her voice dripping with hurt and accusation.

Quinn pursed his lips into a thin white line. He couldn’t even look Ivy in the eye even though he knew this conversation was coming the moment he had decided to accept Dumbledore’s invitation. His knowledge wasn’t a complete boon; it could also be a curse. As it was right at the moment.

“You knew what was inside Harry’s scar,” she said; her cheeks were flushed as she spoke with emotion. “You knew. . . but you didn’t say anything. You—! Why didn’t you say anything!”

“I. . . I couldn’t say. I had to be sure about if it—”

“Horcrux.”

“. . . yes, a Horcrux. I had to be sure that there was a Horcrux in his scar. . . and with magic so ancient, there isn’t much about them out there. Even though I had suspicions, I couldn’t grab your brother to confirm, and even that wouldn’t have made any difference. . . .”

Two days ago, he had the meeting with Dumbledore, and today, after total silence from Ivy, he had received a short MagiFax wanting to meet him. It was clear that Dumbledore had fessed up everything he knew to at least the Potter family. The well-kept secret about Harry’s scar storing a Horcrux had finally been open to people other than Dumbledore. And Ivy, who had listened to Quinn and Dumbledore’s conversation, had realized that it was not only Dumbledore who had kept a secret.

“You seem pretty sure when you were talking with Dumbledore,” she spat.

Quinn reacted to Ivy speaking Dumbledore’s name instead of his title. Ivy, like him, preferred to use the faculty’s correct title— except for Snape— she would call everyone with the Professor attached to their name— both in front of them and behind their back. Seeing her use Dumbledore’s name showed that Ivy and maybe even the Potter weren’t happy with Dumbledore.

“. . . I was putting a firm front. I had to speak as if I was sure. Dumbledore’s response confirmed that I was unfortunately right,” he didn’t want to lie— but for his past knowledge, he would continue to spin a web of lies until the day he died. Another curse that he had to keep with himself.

“So you’re saying you did nothing wrong?”

“Not at all. I am as bad as Dumbledore, if not worse. I accused him of hiding things, but didn’t I do the same. “

“You don’t feel regret about it, do you. . .”

Quinn shook his head without a single moment of thought. His relationship with Ivy was one of blunt truth— she had clearly told him she’d prefer hard honesty rather than comforting lies. And he tried to follow that as much as he could.

“Did you also know about the other thing?” she asked.

“The other thing?” he asked. “What other thing?”

Ivy narrowed her eyes, searching his expression. “Can’t tell you,” she said bluntly.

“Fair enough.” Quinn thought about what it might be and realized that it was probably about the Prophecy. It made him think if maybe Dumbledore had been completely transparent about it.

“I’m tired,” she sighed, slumping in her chair. She covered her eyes with her arm. “Harry has a piece of Voldemort stuck to him. Dumbledore doesn’t know how to remove it, and without it, Voldemort isn’t going to—.”

She stopped mid-sentence and started to breathe heavily as if she was about to break down.

Quinn got up, walked to Ivy, and hugged her from behind. “Everything will be fine. Harry will be fine. It’s magic; we are going to find a way to get that piece of the Dark Lord’s soul out of his scar.”

“We?”

“I’ve been looking into Horcruxes. Ever since I realized what they were, I’ve been diving deep into the magic, soul magic, trying to see how it works. . . it’s coming along, I’m making progress with the magic”— he saw expectations rising in her eyes— “stop-stop-stop. . . don’t look at me like that. Don’t keep any expectations; there’s no telling how things will turn out.”

“I-I. . . yeah,” she sighed. “I just feel useless.”

“You probably are the least useless person in the current situation.”

“I appreciate that, but I can’t do anything useful right now.”

“That’s your misconception. Harry has spent his entire life being looked at differently by everyone because of his Boy-Who-Lived situation. His only solace has been the people close to him. But now, those same people have been told something quite unnerving. It’s inevitable that people will look at him differently, and maybe for the first time, he will feel foreign among those he’s supposed to feel safe. And if you, his twin sister, who has been with him since he was born, act differently, who else can he expect to feel normal with? You need to treat him as if nothing is different.

Also, nothing is other, actually. It’s not like the Horcrux popped up when Dumbledore spoke about it; the soul was always there; it’s just now you know about it. You need to be normal with him. That’s what Harry needs the most.”

Mentality was going to be crucial for Harry. There was a connection between Harry and Voldemort, and if Harry began feeling distressed, the Dark Lord would be able to sense it, and he wasn’t going to let such an open opportunity pass by. Even if Harry was militant with his Occlumency, his mental status would still be affected, and a slight weakness was all the Dark Lord needed. This was why it was important that Harry felt as comfortable as one could be after knowing that they had their nemesis’ soul stuck to their forehead.

It was crucial that Harry Potter wasn’t harmed. The Boy-Who-Lived was a beacon of hope in the hearts of the people. There was already a turmoil that Dark Lord was already back, and if something happened to that figurehead of hope, things would turn ugly and depressing really quickly.

“He needs you and his friends the most,” said Quinn comfortingly.

Ivy sighed and leaned back into Quinn. “I’m still furious at you for not telling me about Harry.”

“Would that have brought anything other than worry? Having no knowledge is better than half-knowledge, which brings nothing but problems. I won’t lie to you by saying that I was thinking about you when I decided to hide it, but the fact stands that it would’ve changed much.”

“I don’t want to believe that,” said Ivy bluntly. “I’m sure we would’ve some progress. If you had told us, we could’ve brought it up with Dumbledore sooner, and with more people looking into it, we could’ve at least found—” Ivy held her tongue— “never mind. . . if you had told us earlier, some progress would definitely have been made.”

“Same thing as before?” asked Quinn, questioning what Ivy had clearly held back.

“Can’t. Mum, Dad, and Dumbledore made everyone promise to not divulge anything that Dumbledore told us,” she said.

Quinn sighed, “A promise is a promise. Feel no pressure from my side,” he knew it was most probably about the multiple Horcrux problem— if he didn’t have the inside knowledge, he would’ve at least tried to press or scope for an answer.

“And here I was thinking my seventh year would be carefree.”

Quinn chuckled.

“It’s not a laughing matter.”

“I know, I know, but I don’t associate Hogwarts with carefree,” he said. Right from his second year, Quinn had never been carefree inside Hogwarts. Every year had been a race against time with strict deadlines and deliverable pressures. The Vaults kept him busy that he had to meticulously plan his days and the hours within them.

“I feel like I have gotten lazier since I have left Hogwarts. I need some external pressure,” said Quinn, switching the topic of conversation. He sat back down, placing his cheek on his knuckles. “I didn’t even release a project this summer. . . after so many years, it was an utter disappointment.”

“Project? What do you mean?”

Quinn tapped his fingers on the table for a bit before starting, “Time to reveal a secret about myself. . .”

Ivy leaned forward, her eyes showing expectations.

“. . . Starting from MagiFax to Aegis, a number of West products launched in the past few years are my brainchildren. I created them, perfected them, still develop them to this day, and of course, I own them,” said Quinn. While the products/services he had released were only a small portion of the entire West business, they had been without a doubt the most profitable— they had grown so quick that every new subsidiary created had gone from loss generating to profit racking companies.

“You made MagiFax?!” Ivy gasped. “But if that. . . how old were you?!”

“Hmm? I was eleven when I was developing it; I pitched it when I was almost twelve; I was thirteen when the product was released to the mainstream,” Quinn shrugged. “MagiFax was my first pitch ever. Coincidently, it is the product over which I have the least control: I’m only involved in its development. . . . Maybe I will go take a look at the development offices.”

Ivy, on the other hand, still had her eyes widened. She opened her mouth a couple times before finally uttering, “Y-You were eleven when you created MagiFax. . . how. . . I-I mean. . . how?”

“The first model wasn’t that hard to create,” he still remembered how MagiFax hadn’t used a single new piece of innovation in its creation. “I just needed the spark of inspiration, which I, fortunately, had gotten from the non-magical world. Believe me, when I say this, the non-magical world is a huge source of inspiration; they’re much larger than our world, and with so many people, it is almost inevitable they would end up thinking different and more things than us.”

“You created MagiFax at eleven. . .”

“You’re still on that?” Quinn smiled. “It shouldn’t be that surprising. Mozart composed his first piece when he was five, you know. It’s no different from that if you think about it. I think mine is a little less impressive; five years old are really dumb.”

“Aegis is from you as well,” Ivy was gaping.

“. . . I have lost you, haven’t I?”

Aegis itself had become a big deal in a short amount of time. The product had been launched at an opportunistic moment. Anytime news about Death Eaters would pop up in the media, the sales for the cheaper, alternative option to the Goblin wardings would jump up like crazy. Aegis was spreading so fast that Quinn’s personal net worth inflated like a balloon.

‘I wonder how would she react if I told her I was behind Labyrinth,’ thought Quinn.

Like Aegis, Labyrinth also grew at an accelerated rate, and while it didn’t sell as much as the wards, the door network had been growing at a rate higher than the predictions. Quinn, himself, had created so many Labyrinth doors that some parts of the country had begun looking as if they were the Abate network in Italy.

But he could feel that chaos was about to break into the country.

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Quinn West – MC – Hard conversations are my specialty if I must say so myself.

Ivy Potter – A muddle of emotions – In the Heart Of The Situation.

FictionOnlyReader – Author – I think I’m going to break the war soon.

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The link is in the synopsis!