HP: Bad Intentions

After bargaining with Blake, Snape was left empty-handed. All the basilisk corpses were claimed solely by Blake, and for good reason. Snape had no use for them. Despite his extensive knowledge of potion recipes, none required basilisk components. Developing new potions with such materials might sound feasible, but it was far easier said than done. Only someone like Blake, whose talent bordered on genius, could treat such endeavors as routine.

Snape's potion-making skills were indeed exceptional, but they couldn't compare to Blake's methods, which often seemed like outright cheating. If Blake hadn't pointed it out, Snape wouldn't have even considered the usefulness of basilisk materials. As a result, Snape was left perplexed and frustrated. His mood was so foul that even three bottles of Joy Potion couldn't lift his spirits.

"Now that the basilisk has been dealt with," Dumbledore said, sitting at his desk, visibly relieved. Blake could see the tension easing from the headmaster's face. "We can rest assured that students will return after their brief vacation," he continued. Professor McGonagall, standing nearby, shared a similar sense of relief. The monster's presence had been a heavy weight on everyone's mind. With the danger resolved, the atmosphere had lightened considerably.

However, McGonagall raised a concern. "What about the school board of directors?" she asked hesitantly.

"It's fine, Minerva," Dumbledore reassured her. "They're aware, but I've ensured the information remains confidential. The board agrees that publicizing the basilisk's existence would harm Hogwarts' reputation. We can't risk parents fearing unknown dangers and transferring their children to Nurmengard Magic Academy."

Dumbledore's tone grew serious. Ever since Grindelwald had established his own magical school, Hogwarts faced competition for students. The basilisk incident, if made public, could drive families away. Thus, secrecy was paramount, and Dumbledore had to suppress his usual inclination to give Blake public recognition for his role in solving the crisis.

A polite knock interrupted the conversation.

"Come in," Dumbledore called. The oak door creaked open, and Blake slipped inside.

Dumbledore's lips curved into a slight smile. "You've never knocked before. Perhaps you're in an exceptionally good mood today?"

Blake grinned widely. "Maybe. The basilisk provided plenty of rewards."

"I take it Severus assisted you in dividing the basilisk?" Dumbledore asked.

"Of course!" Blake's grin widened as he recalled Snape's begrudging expression while helping him dissect the creature. "His reluctance made it even better."

Dumbledore chuckled softly. "I don't oppose you taking the basilisk's remains. Your talents are exceptional, and Severus has already informed me of your progress with a new potion formula. Keep up the good work."

Blake's smile shifted to one of determination. "Don't worry. I'll ensure Slytherin's legacy isn't wasted."

Dumbledore's expression turned thoughtful. Though he found it amusing to hear the basilisk referred to as a "legacy," he couldn't deny the term's appropriateness.

"You handled the situation admirably," Dumbledore admitted. "Perhaps it's time I stop trying to shield you. You've proven yourself capable, far beyond your years."

Dumbledore's acknowledgment marked a shift in how he viewed Blake. No longer merely a talented student, Blake had demonstrated the skill and maturity of an accomplished wizard.

"You're officially on vacation," Dumbledore continued. "You've earned it. I imagine Miss Worley or Miss Granger would appreciate a visit from you."

Blake's grin faltered slightly. "Well, perhaps. But before that, there's one more matter to address."

"Hagrid," Dumbledore guessed.

"Exactly. It's time to clear his name. If the Ministry wants evidence, I have just the thing."

Blake reached into his pocket and produced a glass container holding a massive yellow eyeball.

"The basilisk's eye," he explained. "This should convince them what really happened to Myrtle."

Dumbledore's relief was palpable. "With this, Hagrid will be exonerated. Thank you, Blake."

Blake nodded. "Just remember to return it. It's part of my collection."

Dumbledore chuckled. "Of course. Who else could make use of it?"

As Blake prepared to leave, his gaze fell on the Sorting Hat. It rested on a nearby shelf, seemingly napping. Blake's eyes narrowed as an idea formed.

The Sorting Hat stirred, sensing his intent. "Good day, Blake," it said nervously. "What can I do for you? Let me warn you, my abilities are limited."

Blake's attention remained fixed. He remembered the Gryffindor sword's connection to the hat and decided to investigate.

Dumbledore watched curiously. "Is something wrong?"

"I sensed something from the hat," Blake replied. "I think it's worth checking."

Dumbledore raised an eyebrow. "A spider, perhaps?"

Blake frowned. Dumbledore's ignorance puzzled him. Surely the headmaster knew the sword's location? Or had Fawkes acted independently during Harry's encounter with the basilisk in an alternate timeline?

Blake shook off the speculation and picked up the Sorting Hat, ignoring its grumbling protests. After a thorough inspection, he found no enchantments or hidden compartments. Frustrated, he recalled the sword's unique requirement: it would appear only to those in need who embodied Gryffindor's qualities.

Taking a deep breath, Blake focused his thoughts. He invoked feelings of urgency and desperation, amplifying them with Occlumency.

"I'm in danger," he thought. "I need help."

Suddenly, his hand brushed against something cold and metallic. Gripping the object, he pulled it free.

"Ching!"

The gleaming silver sword, adorned with red gemstones, emerged from the Sorting Hat. The hat sighed in relief. "Oh, thank goodness! That's been bothering me for ages."

Blake's satisfaction was evident. While he had no personal need for the sword, solving the mystery was reward enough. A chime echoed in his mind, signaling a reward from his unique abilities.

Dumbledore stared in astonishment. "The Sword of Gryffindor… It's been missing for years. I had no idea it was hidden there."

The sword, however, seemed less impressed. If it could speak, it might have grumbled, "Where's the danger? The challenge? I've been duped!"

Blake's grin widened as he handed the sword to Dumbledore. With the mystery solved and his vacation officially begun, he left the office, feeling more accomplished than ever.

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