HP: Bad Intentions

"Blake! What are you doing here?" Cassandra gasped, unable to hide her shock as Blake appeared beside her.

Blake smiled nonchalantly, strolling right past the strange man who was supposed to be guarding them. His arms were folded casually as though he had all the time in the world.

He stopped in front of Cassandra, meeting her bewildered look with a calm gaze as if he hadn't just strolled into a room full of enemies.

"You... just walk around like this?" Cassandra asked, both incredulous and slightly alarmed. "You're risking too much coming here!"

Blake chuckled softly and, to her annoyance, reached out to ruffle her hair in that familiar, infuriating way. Cassandra flushed and swatted his hand away, indignant.

'Why does he act like he's so much older like he's invincible? she wondered, her heart pounding with a mix of relief and exasperation.

"You shouldn't have come in here!" she exclaimed, her voice edged with a warning. The man who had been threatening her—along with the other wizards now watching them intently—had just made it clear they were in serious danger.

No one knew they were here, and if anything happened, there'd be no one to help them. The situation was as grim as it could get.

Blake, however, seemed completely unfazed. "Relax, Cassandra. Nothing is going to happen to you while I'm here."

His words were soft, but there was a confidence in them that calmed her despite the perilous situation. His composure did nothing to ease the confusion and alarm among the wizards, though. They gawked at Blake, trying to make sense of how he had entered without being noticed.

The strange man—their leader—narrowed his eyes. 'How did this boy get in here without triggering any alarms?'

They had layered the room with complex defensive spells, and yet Blake had bypassed them all. Even Apparating would have set off a cascade of alerts. It made no sense.

The man scrutinized Blake's every movement, deciding quickly that this mysterious intruder couldn't be allowed to interfere. Without warning, he lifted his wand and, with a determined flick, fired a stunning spell directly at Blake's back.

A bolt of red light shot through the air, landing squarely against Blake... and then dissipating without a trace. The man's jaw dropped as he watched his spell dissolve into nothing against Blake's back, as though it had never been cast at all.

The strange man knew the power of his spell well enough to understand this was no fluke. That kind of magic should have been enough to knock someone across the room.

Gritting his teeth, the man lifted his wand again, firing another stunning spell with more force this time. His accomplices, recognizing the signal, quickly followed suit. Within seconds, a dozen spells were streaming toward Blake.

"Blake, look out!" Cassandra yelled, her voice filled with terror.

She had seen Blake duel at school, where he had bested some of the toughest fighters in their year, but this was different. Here, surrounded by unknown and potentially lethal threats, he was standing casually, not even bothering to face his attackers. She watched in horror, afraid he was being reckless and would pay the price.

Blake, however, didn't seem even remotely concerned. "It's fine, Cassandra," he replied, his tone steady and reassuring. "Their spells can't hurt me."

He turned his head just enough to offer her a calm, reassuring smile as the spells continued to hurtle toward him.

Cassandra's breath caught in her throat as she braced for the impact. But instead of crashing into him, each spell vanished the moment it touched him, as though it had been absorbed or redirected elsewhere.

Unbeknownst to the attackers, Blake wore a Cloak of Levitation—a rare and powerful artifact that absorbed even the strongest curses, rendering him immune to ordinary spells.

For added protection, he had also activated his dimensional mirror, a magical space behind him that could absorb any attacks, deflecting their energy harmlessly. But to the wizards witnessing this display, it looked as though Blake was simply untouchable.

Cassandra's heart was pounding. The scene before her was surreal. Blake hadn't even flinched as he deflected the onslaught. She didn't know if he had some hidden power or if he had simply trained himself to ignore attacks, but the result was the same: he looked invincible. The wizards paused, bewildered. Their spells had clearly hit him, but somehow, it was as if they had fired at thin air.

Blake, contented from getting a lot of treasure chests from Cassandra and the enemies, slowly turned around to face his attackers. His calm, unwavering expression sent a shiver through the room.

The strange man and his wizards began to rethink their strategy, exchanging uncertain glances. One of them raised his wand and prepared to cast a more dangerous curse—a powerful Exploding Spell designed to obliterate anything in its path.

Blake raised his hand, almost lazily, and with a simple flick of his wrist, the wizard went flying backwards, slamming into the wall with a sickening crack. He crumpled to the ground, gasping for breath, his wand rolling away from his limp hand. Blake's gaze turned cold as he addressed the others.

"I'm warning you," he said in a low, steady voice. "Anyone who tries to harm Cassandra or my friends will have to answer to me."

Cassandra, who had been watching in stunned silence, felt a wave of warmth spread through her chest. Blake had always been like this, stepping in when she felt her most helpless. But this time was different.

He wasn't just her friend coming to her aid—he was her protector, willing to face down any threat to ensure her safety. The thought left her momentarily breathless, and she found herself blushing, her heart racing.

'Focus, Cassandra!' she chided herself, gripping her skirt tightly as she ducked behind him for safety.

The strange man, meanwhile, was watching Blake with an intensity that bordered on fear. "Who... are you?" he asked, all traces of arrogance gone from his voice.

Blake allowed himself a slight smile. "You don't need to know who I am, Frank Rookwood," he replied smoothly, watching the man's reaction with interest.

 "Yes, I know exactly who you are. You're Augustus Rookwood's half-brother, aren't you?"

Frank's face went white as a sheet, his confident facade collapsing. "Who told you that?" he whispered, his voice quivering with disbelief.

Even his brother, Augustus Rookwood, had never known the truth about his own family connections.

Blake, meanwhile, watched Frank's reaction with calm satisfaction, his suspicions about Frank's hidden dealings confirmed through Legilimency.

Frank had masterminded the Rookwood family's schemes from behind the scenes, pulling strings with ruthless efficiency. This deceitful man had engineered betrayals, orchestrated Azkaban incarcerations, and concocted formulas he intended to sell under false pretences.

"Oh, you've been clever," Blake continued, "or at least you thought you were. Arranging the sale of your formula to Mr Worley, only to set him up and ensure he's shipped off to Azkaban, right? Once that's done, the orphans and widows of the Worley family will be easy pickings for you." He leaned closer, "Care for me to tell you more? Or do you just want to admit defeat?"

Frank's mouth worked silently as he stared at Blake in utter disbelief. He could hardly breathe. 'This brat knows everything!' he thought, his horror giving way to a dull, sick realization that his plan was over before it had even begun.

While Frank remained frozen in shock, Blake heard the familiar chime of his system prompt, rewarding him with a golden chest for unravelling Frank's entire plot.

"Well, Frank," Blake said, his tone shifting from amusement to deadly seriousness, "are you going to surrender, or would you rather find out what happens when you make an enemy out of me?"

Frank's eyes hardened, a defiant spark flashing as he reached for his wand. "Avada—"

"Wrong move," Blake whispered.

Before Frank could finish his spell, a chain of crimson energy shot from Blake's wand, wrapping around Frank's torso and snapping his arms to his sides.

The wand slipped from Frank's grasp, clattering to the ground as he struggled uselessly against the binds. Nearby, the remaining wizards had already been subdued, bound by more of the crimson chains that hung them from the ceiling like helpless prey.

Blake tightened the chain around Frank's mouth, silencing his attempts to shout. With another flick of his wand, each bound wizard received a swift knock to the head, their eyes rolling back as they fell into unconsciousness.

Blake couldn't help but feel a sense of accomplishment. This modified wand, with its new feature that automatically cast a Stunning Spell upon impact, was proving to be incredibly effective. In this double-layered sense—both magical and physical—the stun worked perfectly.

As Frank slumped, his "sleep" quality no doubt vastly improved by the charm, Blake pocketed his wand and turned. He was met with a pair of wide, emerald-green eyes staring up at him, full of gratitude and admiration.

Cassandra stood there, her gaze bright and piercing, and for a moment, Blake found his calm composure shaken. Those big, watery eyes held him captive, her presence somehow quieting his usual calculating thoughts. 'Who could resist eyes like these?' he thought, momentarily dazed.

In that instant, he found himself understanding a certain infamous Potions Master a little better. Perhaps Snape's longing for Lily hadn't been merely obsessive.

'How could anyone not fall under the spell of those eyes?'

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