Blake wasn't short on money.
Even if the old men up at the mountaintop base did absolutely nothing, he could still afford to pay them.
But as he'd told Cassandra before, they couldn't be left idle for too long—boredom often led to trouble.
So Blake asked Old Lepp to start assigning them commissions.
The Chaos Wish missions were perfect—challenging, rewarding, and just enough to keep the old men busy.
Blake only had one rule: after the commission, split the reward 1:9. One part to the organization, nine parts to the operatives.
When the policy was announced, the old men rejoiced.
They didn't care much for the money—they were already drawing salaries. But doing something—anything—was far better than sitting around basking in the sun all day.
They missed the thrill of being on the run more than they cared to admit. Retirement just didn't suit them.
Still, all commission pickups had to be handled by designated personnel. If the organization wanted to maintain its mystique, it couldn't afford to let too many members become public figures.
While the group moved forward and commissions brought in revenue, Blake celebrated his thirteenth birthday at home in Godric's Hollow.
It was during this quiet time that Blake realized something—his body was far stronger than that of an average thirteen-year-old.
And it wasn't thanks to his Gandalf template, either.
Even without it, his physical development was unusual.
He guessed that his future self must have infused something special into his own bloodline, altering his growth.
Which made sense—if you were crafting your own body from scratch, wouldn't you enhance it with everything good you had?
That thought gave Blake a goal: collect as many high-quality magical resources as possible before traveling through time—so he could integrate them into the body he would one day create.
His birthday brought in a mountain of presents.
Dumbledore dropped by for a day. Even Grindelwald—briefly dropping his disguise as Old Bart—visited Godric's Hollow.
Of course, he didn't stay long.
He nearly got into a fight with Aberforth again and left immediately after hearing Newt would be coming in the afternoon.
Grindelwald had no patience for Newt Scamander—always meddling with his plans.
After dinner, the guests gradually left.
Blake said goodnight to Dumbledore and returned to his room, where a pile of presents greeted him.
He scratched his head. He hadn't had time to open a single one all day.
Now, faced with a mountain of boxes, he sighed.
There were gifts from friends—and a suspiciously large number from Hogwarts girls who clearly admired him.
Hogwarts' young succubi were relentless.
Blake decided to sort out the ones from close acquaintances first.
To preserve the joy of discovery, he didn't use any magical insight to peek inside.
He opened Dumbledore's gift first.
It was a long, heavy box.
Inside, Blake's jaw dropped.
"No way… Is this really okay to give me…?"
In his hands was the very sword of Gryffindor—the one he'd pulled from the Sorting Hat.
A note inside read: "Keep it. You may need it later…"
Blake noticed the blade shimmered faintly green.
"Hiss…"
The sword had been coated in basilisk venom!
Which meant it had absorbed the venom's properties, making it not just a relic, but a powerful weapon against Horcruxes.
Blake figured the remnants of Voldemort's soul in the diary and diadem he'd given back to Dumbledore were probably toast.
But it didn't matter—he'd already extracted what he needed from them.
He set the sword on the table and turned to Grindelwald's gift.
The box was surprisingly light.
Inside was only a folded piece of parchment.
Blake opened it to reveal a world map—large enough that he had to spread it across his bed.
It wasn't just any map.
In addition to place names, it showed red dots scattered across continents. Magical flows radiated from each one.
Curious, Blake touched one of the red dots.
The map zoomed in instantly, like a magical version of a smartphone app.
This dot pointed to a location in Scotland.
Small text read: "Ancient Relic No. 357. Recorded in the summer of 1929."
Blake's eyes widened.
This was a world map of ancient magical ruins.
Grindelwald had clearly compiled it from various sources—likely remembering that Blake once complained about fake ruins during a previous expedition.
Back then, disguised as Old Bart, Grindelwald had been within earshot.
Apparently, he'd taken that to heart.
Blake grinned as he admired the red dots.
"Tsk… Guess I won't be bored for a while."
He felt a warm, quiet appreciation for Grindelwald.
Sure, the man was dangerous, but he could be thoughtful.
Dumbledore wasn't careless either—just far busier.
Still, if Blake had to choose between their gifts, Grindelwald's was more… enticing.
As Blake searched for Hogwarts on the map, a familiar sound interrupted him.
"Stab it!"—a dimensional door opened.
Cassandra peeked her head in.
"Come on, there's no one else," Blake said, casting a reverse-blinding charm on the door—just in case Dumbledore heard anything.
Smiling, Cassandra widened the opening and stepped through, carrying a tray with drinks and desserts.
"I told you not to teleport toward me," Blake said, raising an eyebrow.
"I didn't. I just aimed for your room. I figured you'd be in here at this time."
Blake blinked. Clever girl. She'd found a loophole in his restriction.
"No next time."
"Aww, why not? I just wanted to see you," Cassandra said, placing the tray down.
Blake softened. "I'm just worried. You already know too many of my secrets… I never know when I'll be in danger. What if something happens before I can protect you?"
"You always have an excuse," she muttered. "I think you're just hiding your dates from me."
Blake pulled her onto his lap.
"Nonsense. I'm just worried someone might see you and faint from jealousy."
"You—!" Cassandra tried to stomp on his foot, but he caught her leg and shifted her into a straddle position.
Her face flushed crimson.
"Let me go!"
"Sure. But don't step on these shoes—Madam Marian gave them to me."
Hearing that, Cassandra reluctantly eased up. She knew how much Blake respected Madam Marian.
"You don't even sweet-talk me anymore," she pouted. "Before, you were full of compliments. Now, nothing."
Blake ran a hand through her golden hair. "That's because I've stopped hiding things. When I speak to you now, it's all honest."
Her heart warmed at the words—but she wasn't ready to admit it.
Blake smoothly changed the topic. "Look at this map! With it, I can find magical ruins all over the world!"
Her eyes lit up. "Who gave it to you?"
"My dad."
"Which one?"
"The bad one."
"Oh…"
Blake sat cross-legged on the carpet, pulling Cassandra down beside him.
"Want to open presents with me?"
"Yes!" she grinned, thrilled.
He hadn't invited Granger or any of the other girls—just her.
"Let's start with your gift, Miss Worley."
Blake rummaged through the pile and found her box.
Cassandra looked nervous. "I hope you like it…"
Blake quickly unwrapped it.
Inside was a velvet-lined box holding a strange, fist-sized fruit.
He picked it up and examined it under the light.
"This is… the seed of an umbrella flower? No… wait…"
He rotated it, analyzing.
"It's a hybrid magical plant? Let's see… poison tentacles, jumping bulbs, bubble pods, biting vines, poison-toothed geraniums… and devil's snare!"
Cassandra gasped. "You… recognized all that by sight?"
"Oh, this is just basic stuff. But—did you cultivate this?"
She nodded shyly. "I followed your notes… I've been working on it quietly for a long time. But I think I failed. I don't even know what it does."
Blake set the seed down and grabbed her shoulders.
"You're a genius, Cassandra!"
"Me? A genius?"
"Absolutely! You understood my notes and used them to cultivate a completely new magical plant! That's not easy—most people couldn't even read those notes, let alone replicate them."
Cassandra blushed. "You're not just saying that to make me feel better, right?"
"Cassandra! Don't sell yourself short. You used to believe in yourself. Be that confident girl again. The one who never doubted her brilliance."
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