Good or bad, does it matter?{HP}

Chapter 221: Chapter 218



[Yorkshire Dales National Park.]

Watching Bellatrix perform a standard exercise to improve her control over magic, he had to admit she truly possessed immense talent.

Many people couldn't shape their magic even after a month, yet the girl standing not far from him was already nearing the end of this stage. She had learned to form the numbers themselves, but swiftly changing them one after another still posed a challenge. The witch consistently lost control by the sixth number.

This was not surprising, as each number required a different amount of magic, necessitating constant adjustments—adding and removing precise amounts—without dissipating it, but instead channeling it for the next figure as an additional load.

However, the Prince noticed significant qualitative changes in Bellatrix's body. Due to constant manipulation of magic, her ability to absorb it from the air had increased by four percent. Her core, subjected to constant strain, had finally begun to progress. In six months, provided she maintained her training, another "Master" would likely emerge in England.

Before this, Black had already reached the peak of the "Master" rank. Without his intervention, it would have taken her at least three more years to achieve this herself. This was unsurprising, given her extraordinary talent.

__________

Lying on a chaise lounge in white shorts, shirtless, and wearing sunglasses, Severus basked in the bright rays of the winter sun. He sipped an amber liquid through a plastic straw, tapping his finger rhythmically on its surface.

Occasionally, Bellatrix's gaze flitted over the half-naked young man, lingering on his strong, broad chest and stomach before drifting lower. Each time, she quickly averted her eyes, feeling a mixture of irritation and an inexplicable excitement. Strange and uncharacteristic thoughts flitted through her mind, making her wish she could vanish into the ground.

After half an hour of such "torment," she abruptly turned toward him. The six-shaped magic figure she had formed rushed toward the Prince.

The wizard remained reclined but raised his hand slightly, waving his index finger downward. A fiery blade materialized in front of him, slicing the figure eight times before it dissipated. Then, a fiery spell followed.

"Did you want to ask me something?" Severus asked, lowering his glasses slightly, a puzzled look on his face. Bellatrix snorted in irritation, turned away, and resumed her exercise. A playful smile appeared on the Prince's face. "If not, I'll continue..."

"Can you get dressed?! You're distracting me!" the witch muttered with thinly veiled displeasure, glancing at him before quickly looking away.

"That's what I was counting on, my little perv..."

"W-what are you...?!" Bellatrix stared at him, her eyes wide as galleons.

"Do you think I don't notice where a pair of curious black eyes wander every ten minutes?" he teased, grinning and winking. Bella's face flushed with embarrassment, which she tried to mask with anger.

"I…! I'm not a pervert! As if there's anything to look at. Don't overestimate yourself!" she snapped coldly, turning away. However, her emotions disrupted her control over her magic, and she couldn't form shapes beyond four, constantly losing control at five.

"Damn it! Damn it! Damn it! Now I can't concentrate because of this!" She began again: one... two... three... four... and yet, as soon as she created five, it dissipated again.

"You need to calm down..." Suddenly, Bellatrix froze as a pair of hands rested on her shoulders. "What are you...!"

"Relax," he whispered softly in her ear, gently stroking her shoulders. Her cheeks flushed deeply, a sight even visible from behind. "Of course, you weren't looking. After all, such a proud, pure-blooded witch from the ancient Black family..." His hands slowly moved downward. "...couldn't possibly think of vulgarities."

"Y-yes, and now be sure..."

"Take a deep breath," he instructed. His hands paused at her waist, and, to his surprise, she followed his advice. "...and now exhale. Imagine the magic flowing through your body, gathering in your chest. From there, it travels down your right arm and flows outward..."

In a trance, Bellatrix raised her hand, gray magic streaming forth. "And now, shape it into one... two... three..."

Obeying his commands, her magic took the shapes he voiced: one, two, three, four. When she reached five, she hesitated but managed to form it. Then came six, seven, eight, nine, and finally ten before the figures dissipated.

"Now do you see? It's not so difficult," he said.

"Y... yes, but can you let go now?" Bellatrix asked in an uncharacteristically timid voice, struggling to regain her composure.

"Of course," he said, kissing her neck before turning back to his recliner. He returned his sunglasses to his eyes. "Now, continue," Severus added in a much cheerier tone.

"What was that?" she asked, glaring at him as she tried to regain her former confidence.

A mixture of magic: suggestion, control, and hypnosis. But it's too early for you to practice this. First, master the basics, and then we'll talk." Waving the glass, he drained it in one go and placed it on the table.

Throwing his hands behind his head, Severus closed his eyes again and added, "You must complete this stage today."

"Okay, but... don't you dare do that again! Never!" the girl suddenly shouted in his direction with undisguised rage, clenching her fists tightly.

"Okay." As if unsurprised by her sharp change in tone, he answered calmly, "I swear by magic that I will never use such charms on you again." Only after these words did Black slowly begin to calm down.

"But it's still a pity. It was a very good way to speed up your training..."

"I will never allow anyone to influence my mind again!"

"Okay, but to achieve this, you will have to lean hard on the magic of the mind. In this case, Occlumency won't always help, but in the first option, there are many charms to strengthen your mind's defenses, hide it with illusions, or disguise it…" He wasn't even allowed to finish as the girl's shadow loomed over him. She stood directly in front of him, making her most serious expression as she stared at him expectantly.

"Teach me."

"Okay, but you must complete this training first. Only then will you have enough control over the magic of the mind." Standing up, he maintained his calm smile and looked at her. "The mind is very fragile. The slightest mistake can turn you into a fool or erase your personality. Therefore, to study it, you need incredible control over magic. Is that clear?"

Stepping closer, he gently hugged her and whispered, "Sorry, I didn't think…" He kissed her forehead softly.

She didn't answer. Instead, she rested her head on his shoulder, closing her eyes. Then, extending her hand to the right, she opened her palm, and numbers began to form: one... two... three... four... five... six... seven... eight... nine... ten.

"Let's start the next stage," Black said firmly, raising her head and looking him directly in the eyes.

"Okay, but I decided to change it a little…" Grinning, Severus abruptly turned the surprised girl with her back to him. Sitting down in a chair that replaced the chaise lounge, he pulled her onto his lap, hugging her around the waist. Resting his head on her shoulder, a table with a chessboard appeared in front of them, bewildering the aristocrat, who was more surprised by the chess than their current situation.

"The rules are simple: ten seconds per move. Your task is not just to move the pieces randomly but to think about each move and defeat me. Simultaneously, you must continue forming numbers."

"But I—"

"It's too easy to throw you off balance. As I said earlier, you must learn to control magic outside your body as if it were your third hand. Nothing should disrupt your control."

"Okay, let's start," the girl sighed tiredly, making the first move with her left pawn to E4 while beginning to form numbers in the other.

"By the way," he moved the black pawn to B6, "What are you planning to do with Tom?" On the fifth number, after his question, her magic wavered and dissipated.

"What are you talking about?" The aristocrat frowned at the sky.

"Keep moving the pieces and forming numbers, even while talking to me." After his words, Black quickly made a move and resumed her exercise. Snape continued, "Don't deceive me. Do you think I don't notice anything?"

"I don't understand what you're talking about," she replied, turning away. Her voice was "calm," but her magic faltered on the fourth number, which she couldn't form properly, heightening her irritation.

Coming very close to her ear, he whispered, "You should know by now that I'm much stronger than I seem. If you want, I can kill him right now, burn his soul to ashes, find every Horcrux, and completely erase the half-blood Tom Marvolo Riddle from this world."

Goosebumps ran down Bellatrix's spine, but she said firmly, "No."

"Hm?"

"I'll do it myself. But… not now. Not yet..." Her tone was calm, as if discussing the weather. However, the emotions brewing inside her—hatred, anger, humiliation, and annoyance—were palpable to Severus. He felt a tinge of affection for her but also some pity for Tom. Only a few, even in his world, could drive such a formidable dark witch to this state.

"I had no doubt. It's not in your nature to ask for help," he said, kissing her neck. The number seven dissipated under Bellatrix's tired sigh. "You should practice this exercise more often, even during conversations. Your kind is easily irritated or distracted, which severely weakens your magic control. Do you understand?"

Turning her head towards him, she met his gaze and nodded slightly before looking away, feeling uncomfortable. The last time she had been looked at with such warmth was in her childhood. Among aristocrats, openly expressing such emotions was considered bad form.

"Why me?"

"That's a secret. When you become Bellatrix Prince, I'll reveal this terrible secret to you. But for now..." He took her chin, grinning predatorily. "...I demand my payment."

"Impudent," the witch rolled her eyes, though her voice betrayed no displeasure.

"I don't see you arguing." With those words, Snape pressed his lips to hers. The forming number seven dissipated once again, but neither of them paid much attention to such a trifle.

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