Anyone who does wrong should face punishment.
Cassandra was no exception.
"Really? If I follow your instructions, you'll forgive me?" she asked, her voice fragile from inside the room.
"Of course," Blake said gently. "You've already been punished. Why wouldn't I forgive you?"
"Alright then… tell me what you need me to do. Eh? You… wait… not again… just once—"
Our boss has accepted the commission.
The house elf's voice cut through the moment.
Agatha stood before him again—this time, with confidence.
The last time she'd come, the "Fourth Natural Disaster" was just a lofty name. Now, they had real strength.
"Ah! That's wonderful!" the elf said, handing her a parchment.
Agatha expected a magical contract—but it was only a commission form.
"This is your request?" she asked, surprised by the elf's directness.
Shouldn't they at least test if her group had the necessary power?
"Yes, but it doesn't count," the elf replied, shrugging.
"What do you mean?" Agatha frowned, irritated by the vagueness.
"It's a commission, yes. But not the one we want to give you. This is a test, Miss Violet. Only if your organization completes this successfully will you qualify for my master's real mission—the one with the reward."
"If you can't manage this… best not to waste anyone's time. My master won't place his trust without proof."
Agatha nodded. "I was just thinking it seemed too easy."
She snatched the commission from his hand.
"Alright. The Fourth Natural Disaster accepts your test!"
She didn't need orders for this. With over a hundred elite ex-Wu Cui members, their strength was unmatched in Knockturn Alley.
If she hesitated at a mere test, those hardened wizards back home would drown her in spit.
The sunset bathed Cassandra's room in golden light as Blake sat by the window.
Cassandra curled up in his lap like a warm, spoiled Persian cat.
"There's still one last thing you need to do. Then your punishment is over," Blake said softly, gazing toward Warley Manor.
"What?" Cassandra shot up, wide-eyed. "I did everything you asked! How could there still be—"
Her cheeks flushed with embarrassment as she remembered the tasks Blake had demanded. Her wrists were sore, her mouth numb—she had truly paid the price.
"You... how much more do you want to bully me?" she asked, eyes shimmering.
Blake laughed and gently pulled her back into his arms, stroking her hair.
"It's something simple. You can do it, and you should. You really went too far."
"But if you do it… I'll show you my little secret. And then… I'll dye you 'grey.'"
"Really!?"
"Of course."
"Good!"
Old Lepp puffed on his pipe, studying the commission Agatha had brought.
He wore his new grey robes—identical in design to the ones he used to brag about, but Blake's version was vastly superior.
"So this 'test' is just exploring ruins?" he muttered.
Too easy.
Forget the Fourth Natural Disaster—any Knockturn Alley group with fifty members could do it. Ruins usually just had Inferi, dangerous to average wizards but harmless to the dark magic-savvy.
Passing this commission meant qualification for something bigger?
That meant half of Knockturn Alley would qualify.
"If it's too easy, something's off," Lepp mused, blowing a smoke ring.
"Maybe it's different. Maybe it's actually dangerous?" Agatha offered.
"Maybe. But we can't avoid the test because of danger. Blake was very interested in the main commission."
Lepp stood up and stretched.
"I'll go myself. And I'll bring Old Bart. Blake told me to take him on any risky mission."
Lepp didn't fully trust Bart, but if Blake said it, he'd comply.
"I'll write to Blake and let him know."
"Good. He might even want to come," Lepp said.
That thought comforted Agatha. If Blake came, there was nothing to fear.
"I'm sorry! I was wrong!"
Hermione blinked, stunned. Cassandra stood in front of her—apologizing.
Just this morning, she'd been arrogant, convinced she had everything under control.
Now she appeared in Hermione's room via dimensional door and confessed?
Even when Cassandra wasn't acting high and mighty, she'd never apologize.
Neither would Hermione, even if she were wrong. Pride wouldn't allow it.
So this? This was something else.
"…What are you up to?" Hermione asked cautiously, wand in hand.
After seeing Cassandra's dark manipulations, she didn't trust anything.
"I know I hurt you. I know it's not easy to forgive," Cassandra said, her tone sincere. "But I'm not asking for forgiveness. I just want to apologize."
Hermione bristled. No way this wasn't a setup.
"What's your game!?"
Cassandra looked at the wand, then held up her hand. "See? The unbreakable oath mark is gone. I won't scheme against you anymore."
"If you don't believe me, that's fine. I'll leave."
She turned, opened the dimensional door, and vanished.
"Ugh, apologizing to an enemy… That's Blake's idea," she muttered before disappearing completely.
Hermione blinked.
"She didn't… leave anything in my room, did she?"
Hermione scoured the place. Nothing.
"…Did she really just want to apologize?"
"Yes. She did."
"GAH!" Hermione jumped. "Can you not sneak up on me!?"
Blake appeared calmly in her room.
"You didn't say hello when you barged into my room back on Wuming Island," he smirked.
Hermione flushed at the reminder.
"You told her to come?"
"Yes. She hurt you. She needed to apologize."
"I don't let anyone hurt my friends—even if that person's also my friend."
Hermione glanced up at him, voice barely audible.
"You… only see me as a friend?"
Blake didn't reply. She continued.
"I heard what you said to Cassandra earlier. So… you've just been pretending to be clueless?"
"If that woman hadn't gone nuts, I'd still think you were totally dense!"
Blake sighed. "Yeah. I was pretending."
"Oh, just go. I want to be alone…"
She turned away.
Every time she closed her eyes, she saw Cassandra kissing Blake.
Why hadn't he moved away?
Why?
But Blake didn't leave.
Instead, he walked behind her and said, "Do you know why I had to pretend?"
"What? For fun?"
Hermione felt her chest tighten.
She was sure Blake didn't return her feelings. Yet… he acted like he had the same feelings for both her and Cassandra.
Was he avoiding choosing?
A... carrot?
But if he couldn't reject Cassandra… maybe he wouldn't reject her either?
She shivered at the thought.
"You're right," Blake said suddenly. "I can't deny it."
Hermione turned, startled.
"I like you, Hermione."
Then, without waiting for a reply, Blake opened a dimensional door and vanished.
Hermione stood frozen.
"He… likes me?"
She shook her head violently.
"No! Hermione, don't lose your mind over this! He probably said the same thing to Cassandra!"
But… he'd told her. Cassandra had confessed—he had taken the initiative.
"No! Focus!"
She tugged at her hair, already a wild mess.
Outside, Cassandra greeted Blake as he reappeared.
"I heard everything you said to her! Hmph! Huge radish!"
She hadn't actually left—just opened a small door under Hermione's bed to listen in.
"So… I'm a carrot, am I?" Blake teased.
"You're horrible!" she said, blushing as she hit his shoulder.
Her cheeks still ached.
"But…" Cassandra smirked. "Now that you've said that to her before leaving, she won't sleep tonight."
Blake grinned. "Don't be so smug. You won't be sleeping either."
Her smile froze.
"…What are you planning?"
Blake stepped closer. "Nothing bad. I'm going to show you my little secret tonight."
"Didn't you promise? After you complete your task, I'll turn you 'grey'…"
=============
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