HP: Bad Intentions

Snape was busy setting up the cauldron when he noticed Blake quietly slipping toward the door. Without turning fully, he called out, "Where are you going?"

Blake paused mid-step, then turned back with a mock-serious expression. "Of course, I'm going back to do my homework. You know, I'm a very studious student."

Snape's brow twitched at the reply, but he said nothing. The purpose of their meeting had been achieved, and Blake had no intention of lingering. The underground office was cold on the late autumn night, and the warmth of the Hufflepuff common room beckoned.

Snape, however, wasn't letting him off so easily. "The potion you researched yourself," he began, his tone even. "It's going to be brewed completely for the first time. Don't you want to see it with your own eyes?"

Blake waved dismissively. "No need. I've already completed the data and am confident there will be no issues. Staying here won't help, so I'd rather head back."

Snape's lips curled slightly in annoyance. For him, the first brewing of a potion was a momentous occasion, something to be witnessed and remembered. Blake, however, seemed utterly indifferent.

Before he could say more, Blake added, "Don't worry, Professor. There will be plenty of these moments in the future." His words hinted at the regularity with which he expected to create groundbreaking potions. Snape couldn't tell if it was arrogance or genuine confidence.

'Does this guy not care?' He thought.

"One more thing," Snape called after him. "Do you plan to make your recipe public?"

Blake's grin widened. That smile made Snape's suspicions clear: the boy had no intention of sharing his work openly. The potion they'd brewed wasn't just any concoction—it was a life-extending elixir. The very idea of such a potion becoming public knowledge was absurd.

"Got it," Snape said flatly, understanding the boy's decision without further explanation. Blake turned to leave again, only to be stopped by Snape's irritated voice.

"Clean up your things before you go." He gestured to the messy table covered in cups and plates. Blake froze, then sheepishly attempted, "Ahem… Professor, there are house-elves for that sort of thing…"

"You made the mess. You clean it," Snape snapped, his tone brooking no argument. "Unless, of course, you'd prefer I deduct points for breaking into my office uninvited?"

Blake sighed dramatically. "Professor, you've transformed into a tyrant." Nevertheless, he stayed behind to clean up. Once he finished, he left without another word.

Snape glanced up from his work, noting with satisfaction that the desk was spotless. The satisfaction, however, turned to confusion when he noticed something amiss.

"Where's my new cauldron?" Snape muttered, his irritation growing. The realization dawned on him. "That little b*****d!"

September melted into October, and the weather turned bitterly cold. One night, Blake could be found in the Room of Requirement. He had commandeered Snape's cauldron for an entirely unconventional use. The cauldron sat on a table, filled not with potion ingredients but with bubbling hot pot broth.

Blake skewered a piece of meat, dipped it into the boiling liquid, and sighed in contentment as he took a bite. "Ah… nothing beats hot pot in this weather."

Across from him sat Cassandra, awkwardly wielding a fork and spoon. She struggled to eat as efficiently as Blake, who used chopsticks with practised ease. Hermione, sitting beside her, fared slightly better but was still caught off guard by the spiciness.

"Sha…" Hermione gasped, reaching for her water glass. Blake handed her a glass of milk instead.

"This will help more than water," he advised. She took a sip and visibly relaxed, the burning sensation easing.

"I've seen hot pot on TV before," Hermione remarked. "Isn't it from the East? It's called…" She frowned, trying to recall the name.

"Hot pot," Blake corrected, smiling. "And yes, it's from there."

As they ate, Kassandra eyed the cauldron suspiciously. "Where did you get this pot?" she asked. "Don't tell me you made it yourself."

Blake shook his head. "Oh no, this is Professor Snape's new cauldron."

Both girls froze. The idea of eating from a pot that might've been used for brewing potions was less than appetizing. Hermione covered her mouth, while Cassandra hesitated, her fork halfway to her mouth.

"Relax," Blake said, noticing their discomfort. "This was a brand-new pot. Snape bought it by mistake, and I… liberated it before he could use it. If it had been used for brewing potions, do you think he'd have let me keep it?"

Reassured, the girls resumed eating. The aroma of the hot pot soon overcame any lingering doubts, and the meal continued.

Suddenly, Blake put down his chopsticks. "You two carry on," he said, standing abruptly. "I have something to deal with."

He opened a dimensional door, stepped through, and vanished.

"Where's he off to now?" Cassandra asked, watching the door close.

"The Forbidden Forest, I think," Hermione replied, having caught a glimpse of the dark, towering trees beyond the door.

Cassandra shrugged. "Figures. He goes there so often it's like his second home."

In the Forbidden Forest, Blake took a deep breath, savouring the cool, earthy air. The scent of vegetation invigorated him. Druids, after all, thrived in natural environments.

A faint rustling noise reached his ears, followed by the sharp, fishy scent he recognized all too well. He cast a quick Bubble Charm over himself. Moments later, the ground trembled, and a massive Acromantula emerged from the shadows.

Xiaocai, Blake's pet Acromantula, appeared before him, its size having increased noticeably since their last encounter. It lowered its head in a gesture of submission. Blake patted one of its legs, smiling.

"You've grown," he remarked, his tone approving. Around them, dozens of other Acromantulas began to emerge, ranging from carriage-sized adults to dog-sized juveniles. They formed a dense, intimidating circle.

"Good job, Xiaocai," Blake said. "It looks like you've been busy."

Xiaocai clicked its mandibles in response, its excitement evident. But the celebration was cut short as another wave of rustling approached. Blake turned to see another group of Acromantulas advancing. This group was significantly larger, both in numbers and in individual size.

Xiaocai made a series of clicking noises, its tone urgent. "Master… help… trouble," it managed, speaking in broken human words.

Even Aragog learned to speak human language from Hagrid.

The talented Xiaocai only studied with Blake for more than ten days during the holidays.

Now it could barely speak some words.

Blake said, "It seems that you are in trouble."

In the Forbidden Forest, even if the hegemony of seeing and hearing is not turned on.

Blake could also feel that further away, there was another group of Acromantulas rushing here.

The approaching spiders were clearly loyal to Aragog, the reigning king of the Acromantulas. Xiaocai's rebellion against its progenitor had drawn considerable ire, and now it faced a full-scale counterattack. Blake surveyed the situation, his mind racing.

"Alright," he said finally. "I'll help. Let's even the odds."

Xiaocai's excitement was palpable, its legs tapping rapidly against the ground.

There is still a gap between its power and Aragog. However, if it could withstand this wave of attacks and effectively eliminate the opponent's vitality. Then it will be on par with Aragog.

Blake stopped hiding his strength.

The school uniform robe he was wearing instantly transformed back into a cloak.

Immediately afterwards, Blake's whole body floated up.

He was suspended in the air, arms crossed.

Then a huge Seraphim Shield covered all the Acromantulas on our side!

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