Effeciency is Key
But it's unfortunate, Professor, because Voldemort thought the same thing. That's why I must remain with Professor Quirrell tonight, playing the misguided villain as usual. Sorry, but I might have to cast a shadow on Harry's heart tonight. However, rest assured, I'll help you complete your plan. After all, your real goal is for Harry to kill Voldemort with his own hands, isn't it?
Blake watched as the Phoenix Patronus vanished before his eyes. Dumbledore stroked his beard thoughtfully. Once again, the little guy saw right through his plan. Still, why did Blake seem to be getting more and more like Grindelwald?
---
Blake and his friends had a great time in Hogsmeade. By the time they returned to the school through the secret passage, it was already eight in the evening. After saying goodbye, everyone went to their respective house common rooms. Cassandra's eyes sparkled as she watched Blake. She waited patiently until everyone else had left before asking, "So, you actually have something to do tonight, don't you?"
"It's true, I have a little errand to run," Blake admitted, somewhat surprised that Cassandra hadn't left with the others. "Um… how did you know?"
"The look in your eyes, Blake. You tried to hide it, but I could see your excitement. It's the same look you had back in the Forbidden Forest," Cassandra replied.
Hearing this, Blake grew cautious. He had been getting too comfortable lately. If even Cassandra could read his intentions through his eyes, then he'd indeed been slacking off. However, a sense of loneliness washed over him. What did it matter if he let a bit of emotion show?
"You know," Blake began with a grin, "I thrive on excitement. Whether it's facing danger or taming a wild beast, that's when I feel most alive."
Cassandra looked at him, clearly happy. She was witnessing the true Blake, the one who lived for thrill and adventure, not the boy who played along with Dumbledore's plans or humored Voldemort's schemes. For the first time, she was seeing his real self.
"Can I go with you?" Cassandra asked, her voice full of hope.
Blake shook his head. "No, it's too dangerous. I can't take you with me."
"Alright," Cassandra replied, a small smile on her face. "But sooner or later, I'll join you. You'll have no choice but to let me."
---
By ten o'clock, Blake found himself standing in front of Quirrell's office. His carefree demeanor from earlier had been replaced by the same collected and serious mask he wore for dangerous encounters. The occasional flash of madness in his eyes made Quirrell uneasy. The professor couldn't help but think Blake was a lunatic—a young lunatic who hadn't yet fully matured.
"Master says we should start now," Quirrell whispered, his voice laced with excitement.
"Oh? But what about Snape?" Blake asked. "Hasn't he been keeping an eye on you?"
"Not so much anymore," Quirrell replied. "And Dumbledore is away at the Ministry of Magic. Tonight is the perfect time."
Blake raised an eyebrow and stroked his chin, contemplating. Perhaps Snape's lack of surveillance was due to him. After all, Snape had not fully recovered yet, and thanks to Blake's monthly potions, Snape's complexion had improved—though who knew what dreams he was having while under their influence.
Together, Blake and Quirrell stealthily made their way to the fourth-floor corridor. Blake noticed something unusual: they hadn't encountered anyone along the way. Not Filch, not even a ghost. It seemed Dumbledore had cleared the area, likely to give Quirrell the opportunity he needed. However, Quirrell, blinded by his excitement, didn't seem to notice any of this.
Quirrell produced a miniature harp from his robes and used the Unlocking Charm to open the door in front of them. "Go in quietly," he instructed.
Blake nodded and followed him inside. The room was dark, and as soon as the door creaked open, a massive, foul-smelling beast lunged at them—a three-headed dog, Lu Wei.
Quirrell hastily plucked the harp, and within moments, the ferocious dog's eyelids began to droop. It wasn't long before the beast collapsed onto the floor, fast asleep.
Blake studied Lu Wei curiously. How could such a powerful creature have such a fatal weakness? His thoughts drifted to whether he could somehow help the creature evolve beyond that weakness.
"Don't waste time," Quirrell hissed, pulling Blake from his thoughts. The professor had opened the door beneath where Lu Wei had been standing, revealing a dark, deep hole. "Jump down. There's a Devil's Snare below. You won't get hurt."
With that, Quirrell leaped into the hole. Blake, trusting his magical instincts, jumped in after him, allowing the levitation properties of his enchanted cloak to slow his descent. As he floated down, the Devil's Snare's dark tendrils made no attempt to grab hold of him, likely due to his Druid abilities.
When he landed softly on the tendrils, Quirrell had already freed himself using fire. Ahead of them lay a stone corridor that sloped downward, water dripping from the walls. Blake followed Quirrell quietly, listening to the professor mutter to himself about Dumbledore and Snape's incompetence for leaving the opportunity wide open.
Blake smirked inwardly. Quirrell was so eager for Voldemort's approval that he was completely oblivious to the fact that Dumbledore had likely planned this entire scenario.
They soon reached a room at the end of the corridor, its ceiling filled with bright, fluttering birds. On the other side of the room was a locked door. Quirrell, upon seeing the birds, grumbled, "Flitwick enchanted these keys. We'll have to fly up there on brooms and find the correct one."
Blake, uninterested in playing by the rules, simply walked to the door. "We don't need to waste time with that," he said confidently.
Quirrell, growing irritated, replied, "That door can't be opened with an Unlocking Charm."
"I'm not using that," Blake replied with a grin. "I've got a better method."
He pulled out a small Bowtruckle from his pocket and handed it a tiny piece of wood as a treat. "Porgy, unlock this for me, will you?"
The Bowtruckle eagerly accepted the treat and went to work, slipping its long, sharp fingers into the keyhole. Within seconds, the door clicked open.
Quirrell stood in stunned silence, his eyes wide with disbelief. "That's… much faster," he muttered.
Blake smiled, feeding Porgy another treat before pocketing the little creature again. "Efficiency is key, Professor."
---
The next room contained a life-sized chessboard, Professor McGonagall's test. Quirrell, having anticipated this, pulled out a pre-prepared chess strategy and instructed Blake to take the knight's position. But Blake wasn't interested in following the professor's convoluted plan.
"Why waste time playing chess?" Blake asked with a shrug.
"Because it's the only way through," Quirrell snapped. "Unless you have another plan?"
Blake grinned, raising his wand. "Confundus!"
To Quirrell's shock, the enemy king immediately surrendered, tossing his crown onto the floor. The opposing chess pieces moved aside, and the door to the next room opened quietly.
"How… how did you…?" Quirrell stammered in disbelief.
"Sometimes, spells don't work because you're not using enough power," Blake said with a smirk. "And besides, I don't like following the rules."
Quirrell, though impressed by Blake's quick thinking, felt a growing sense of frustration. Their progress was swift, but it came at the cost of his pride. Blake was proving to be far more capable than he had expected.
For the first time, Quirrell began to wonder: when the Dark Lord returned, would he really be the one to earn the greatest credit, or would Blake overshadow him?
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