Nagini, I Have A Bold Idea...
"You'll never imagine how much I love her," Snape said firmly, clinging to his words, as if by saying them aloud, he could solidify the one truth that had defined his life for so many years.
Blake chuckled, a soft, cynical laugh that echoed painfully in Snape's ears. The sound felt like a dagger, slowly twisting in an open wound, mocking everything Snape had lived for.
This was rubbing salt in his deepest pain.
"What are you laughing at?" Snape growled, anger coursing through his veins.
"No offense, Professor Snape, but... you call this love?" Blake's voice was calm, but there was a sharpness beneath it, a blade hidden behind the words. "Let me ask you another question. Do you even know what love is?"
Snape's face tightened. Of course, he did. Who did Blake think he was to challenge Snape's understanding of love? He had spent his entire life centered around his love for Lily.
Blake raised an eyebrow, as if reading Snape's thoughts. "You think you love Lily, don't you? Well, if you love her so much, do you even know her? Really know her?"
"Of course I know her!" Snape shouted, his voice raw with emotion. "I know everything about her!"
Blake sighed, the sound filled with disappointment, like a teacher watching a student repeat the same mistake over and over again. "If you really know her, then tell me, what does she hate the most?"
The question hit Snape like a punch. His mind raced. There were things she disliked, of course, but what did she hate? Suddenly, the answer seemed all too obvious, and with it came a creeping realization of what Blake was leading to.
"And if you know what she hates," Blake continued, "then why do you live like she despised? Why do you embrace the very things she couldn't stand?" His words were sharper now, cutting deeper. "Love is mutual, Professor. You can't live in a way she would detest and expect her to love you back."
Snape's lips trembled. He felt exposed, vulnerable, like Blake had ripped open his chest and was staring into the heart of all his regret and guilt. "I... I just..."
Blake wasn't finished. His voice became harsher. "You think you know her, but you don't. You say you love her, but your actions say otherwise. Your selfishness blinded you to her feelings. You obsessed over dark magic, the very thing she hated. You surrounded yourself with people who stood against everything she believed in. And when it came to her friends? You ignored her wishes, her connections. You isolated her, pushed her away with every choice you made."
Snape felt as though he was drowning, each accusation pulling him deeper into the cold truth.
"And now," Blake's voice softened, but the words were still harsh, "you think one word, 'Mudblood,' was why she ended things with you? No, Snape. That was just the last straw. Everything you did led to this moment."
"Enough!" Snape shouted, his voice cracking. "Enough... please... don't say anymore."
But Blake wasn't done. "I've seen your memories, Professor. I saw your conversation with Dumbledore. You told Voldemort about the prophecy because it didn't mention a woman, didn't mention Lily. You thought that as long as Voldemort killed James and the child, everything would be fine. You didn't even stop to think about how Lily would feel."
Snape's hands clenched into fists, but he said nothing.
"You didn't care about her family, about what they meant to her," Blake said, his words coming faster now. "You only cared about your own desires. If you had understood what Lily truly needed, what her family meant to her, you never would've told Voldemort that prophecy. You wouldn't have set everything in motion. And Lily wouldn't have died."
The room was deathly silent as the final words fell into the air like stones dropping into water. Snape's breath hitched, and his vision swam as the weight of Blake's words crushed him.
He had always regretted calling Lily a "Mudblood," and he had always regretted not saving her from Voldemort. But he had never truly regretted telling Voldemort the prophecy. Not until now.
Because, deep down, he had hoped that James and Harry would die, leaving only Lily.
Blake took a step closer to him. "You must have wondered, haven't you, Professor? Why did Voldemort kill Lily even though he promised to spare her?"
Snape could barely move, let alone respond.
Blake leaned in, his voice low but deadly. "Because you never understood Lily, Snape. You never understood what family meant to her. She was willing to die for her child, to protect him with her last breath. Voldemort had no choice but to kill her because she stood in his way, refusing to let him harm her son."
The words crushed Snape. His body felt numb, and his mind was reeling from the harsh truth. He collapsed to the ground, unable to stand any longer, defeated by the brutal reality that Blake had laid bare.
It wasn't just his mistakes. It was his entire life, shaped by selfish choices, by a twisted understanding of love.
"Ding! Distraught emotions detected! Congratulations to the host for obtaining a diamond treasure chest!" The voice of the system echoed in Blake's mind, reminding him of his original purpose for coming here. But even as the words rang out, Blake could hardly take joy in his reward.
Blake had gone too far. He had torn into Snape, stabbing at the man's deepest regrets and fears without mercy. Now, Snape was completely shattered, lying motionless on the floor, drowning in his despair. There would be no further discussion, no deal.
Sighing, Blake walked over to the shelves, grabbing several bottles of euphoria. He knelt beside Snape, pouring the potions down his throat, trying to coax the man back from the edge of his breakdown. Slowly, Snape's breathing steadied, and his color began to return.
Satisfied that Snape was no longer on the verge of total collapse, Blake stood up. As he turned to leave, Snape's voice, hoarse and fragile, stopped him.
"What's the deal you mentioned?" Snape rasped. "Is it about that potion you gave me?"
Blake turned around, surprised. "Yes. I was going to offer you a trade. I'd supply you with that potion in exchange for some rare ingredients."
Snape stared at him coldly. "I want the potion formula. Give it to me, and you can take my ingredients."
Blake shook his head. "I can't give you the formula, Professor. It's too dangerous. But I'll give you a bottle once a month. Any more than that, and you'll never want to leave the dreams it gives you."
"One bottle a month? That's not enough!" Snape's voice rose, desperate. "I need more!"
Blake's expression softened. "No, Professor. Any more than that, and you'll lose yourself in the dreams. They'll consume you, and you'll never want to come back to reality."
Snape clenched his jaw, but after a long pause, he finally nodded in reluctant agreement. He knew Blake was right. He couldn't afford to lose himself entirely, not while he still had work to do, not while he still had a role to play. But in his heart, he longed for the dreams—for the moments where he could see Lily again, even if it was only an illusion.
As Blake gathered the ingredients he needed, Snape sat in his chair, staring at the wall, his mind swirling with everything Blake had said. Once Blake had taken the materials and left, Snape stood up and walked to his collection room. He examined the ingredients Blake had taken, his brow furrowing.
The combinations didn't make sense. Many of the materials Blake had gathered shouldn't mix together, at least not in any potion formula Snape was familiar with.
"What is he making?" Snape muttered, confusion clouding his thoughts.
Meanwhile, Blake had retreated to the Room of Requirement. He had been working tirelessly, brewing a complex transformation potion. The ingredients were incredibly rare, some nearly impossible to find. Nagini, now back in her snake form, watched from the side, coiled next to the cauldron, her slitted eyes tracking his every movement.
Blake had spent the entire day and night on this potion. It was challenging, even for someone of his skill, but finally, the brew was complete. The potion emitted a strange, almost floral fragrance, entirely unlike the usual stench of brewing potions.
"This one's different," Blake muttered to himself, his eyes gleaming as he poured the shimmering red liquid into a glass bottle. The potion sparkled like a ruby in the dim light, a beautiful and dangerous concoction.
Nagini hissed softly, her tongue flicking in the air as she watched Blake.
Blake turned to her with a smirk. "Nagini, I've got a bold idea.
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