In this world, people and things often fall into black or white categories.
But some blur the lines—like Blake.
Those who mix black and white often claim to live in the gray, and Blake embodies that gray area.
"I'll come find you at midnight," he told Cassandra. "If you get sleepy, drink this."
With a nod, he handed her a vial of refreshing potion before vanishing into the night.
Cassandra was beginning to understand what being "gray" meant.
Blake didn't follow rules unless he chose to. Rules had power over him only when he allowed it. Like the forbidden plants he secretly cultivated in the Room of Requirement—poisonous vines, rogue Whomping Willows, and other dangerous flora no student was meant to see.
He only revealed that part of himself to those he truly trusted.
So, when Blake offered to share a secret with her, Cassandra knew he'd accepted her completely. She could hardly wait for midnight.
After leaving Warley Manor, Blake went straight home and collapsed onto his bed. Today had drained him.
He was awakened later by Dabao, his tiny magical companion, who tugged at his hair and pointed urgently to a letter delivered by owl.
Blake opened it, blinking sleepily. "Ruins?" he murmured. He hadn't explored many ruins before. This sounded promising.
"Alright, tonight it is."
After a quick meal—left for him by Nagini—he checked the time. It was nearly eleven.
Blake Apparated back to Warley Manor. A warm light glowed from Cassandra's room—she was waiting for him.
Using the Eye of Truth, Blake scanned the house. Everyone else was asleep. He crept silently to her door and knocked.
"Is... is that you, Dad?" Cassandra's voice was tense. The last thing she needed was a midnight heart-to-heart with her father—especially with Blake arriving soon.
"No," came Blake's familiar voice.
Relieved, Cassandra rushed to the door and flung it open.
"You're not my dad, but... if you insist on me calling you that, I suppose I can't refuse," Blake teased.
"You jerk," she said, blushing. "Come inside!"
She pulled him in like a mischievous conspirator.
"Why didn't you Apparate straight into my room?"
"What if your parents had been here? Better safe than awkward."
"You make it sound like I was planning something improper!" she shot back, flustered.
"Well, if you were trying to steal my heart, you've succeeded."
"Shut up!" she said, cheeks red, and gave him a playful pinch at the waist—useless against his magical defenses.
"Alright, let's get serious. Ready?"
"I've been ready!" she said, slipping her wand into her pocket.
Only now did Blake notice her outfit. Gone was her usual green dress. She now wore practical hunting clothes, her golden hair tied in a sleek ponytail.
He blinked in surprise. "You look... like a hunter's daughter."
"I had a feeling tonight would be exciting," she said, a bit shy. "Didn't think a skirt would do. Took ages to find this—had to dig it out from when I used to go hunting with my dad. Do I look okay?"
"You always look good," Blake said. "It's never about the clothes."
Cassandra turned pink. "Flatterer."
"But smart choice. A skirt would've been a bad idea. Here," he added, handing her a small pouch. "Healing potions. Might come in handy."
"Wait—so we might get hurt?"
Blake smiled at her sudden spark of excitement. Cassandra might not be a Gryffindor, but she certainly wasn't timid. She'd followed him into the Forbidden Forest once without hesitation.
He liked that about her. She wasn't afraid. That was rare.
He was planning to show her something darker tonight. If she really meant to follow him, she had to face this side of the world eventually.
He hoped she'd become a loyal right hand—his Vita Rohir.
Once the Worleys were asleep, Blake and Cassandra slipped away to a hidden mountaintop base. Blake led her through dimly lit corridors toward a central conference room.
"I've started an organization," Blake explained. "The Fourth Natural Disaster."
"Organization?" she asked. "What do you do?"
"Depends on what I want," he said honestly. "For now—making money. The members were once part of the Wuchui Party. If left idle, they get... unruly."
"So... I'm a member now too?" Cassandra asked with a grin.
"Of course! Otherwise, I'd have to kill you to keep our secrets."
"You're joking, right?"
"Jiejiejie... do we look like good people?"
"No," she replied, suddenly more cautious.
"These people were once followers of the first Dark Lord," Blake continued. "And I'm his son. So yeah—definitely not the good guys."
She swallowed hard. "You... were kidding about killing me, right?"
Blake laughed. "Of course! How could I bury you—oops, I mean hurt you."
"You planned the whole burial too?!"
He gently clapped a hand over her mouth. "No more jokes. We're here."
The conference room was already filled with familiar faces—Old Rip, Agatha, Bolton, Bart disguised as Grindelwald, and several veteran wizards.
"Evening, gentlemen," Blake said.
"And ladies," Agatha added dryly.
Blake stepped aside. "Of course. Ladies too."
He presented Cassandra with a flourish. Agatha's eyes twinkled.
"Boss, where'd you find this noble pure-blood lady? Ransom time?"
"I wasn't kidnapped!" Cassandra said, shrinking back.
"Agatha, really?" Blake sighed.
"Just teasing! But you did abduct her, right?"
Agatha looped an arm around Cassandra. "You're famous, you know. Blake never shuts up about how clever and beautiful you are."
Cassandra's cheeks went bright red.
"Alright, enough," Blake said quickly. "Agatha, Cassandra's with us now. Watch over her."
Agatha blinked, then nodded seriously. "She's coming too?"
"Yes. It'll be dangerous."
Agatha frowned. "Then—"
"She needs to learn," Blake interrupted. "You can't grow inside a greenhouse."
Agatha looked Cassandra over and smiled warmly. "Then welcome to the team. Stick with me and you'll be fine."
She pulled Cassandra aside to chat, clearly excited to have another witch in the group.
Meanwhile, Blake reviewed a parchment with Old Lepp.
"What do you think?" Blake asked.
"Feels like a trap," Lepp replied, puffing on his pipe.
"An ambush?"
"Not exactly. A test. I think they want to gauge our strength."
Blake nodded. "Agreed. It's too convenient. They're testing our tactics and perception."
"So what's the plan?"
"You bring the alchemy tools I gave you. I'll come along but won't intervene unless necessary. I want to see how the gear holds up—it's time you all operate without me."
Lepp nodded. "I'll lead tonight, then. Good chance to test everything."
Ten minutes later, they departed the base.
Old Lepp opened a dimensional door using Blake's enchantments. Since accepting the ring, his loyalty had become absolute—and Blake had rewarded him with access to high-level magic.
The destination: a chain of islands in the Bermuda region.
On a remote isle, a massive stone gate stood, looming and ancient.
Agatha eyed the carvings. "Looks old... but I can't make sense of these runes."
"Recognize it?" she asked Blake.
He grinned. "Oh yeah. Very ancient. Probably last week."
"You mean this is fake?!"
"It's expected. It's a test, not a real ruin. Still..." Blake ran a hand over the stone. "They didn't even try to make it convincing."
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