HP: Bad Intentions

"Ah?"

Although Cassandra and Fleur had just been in a heated argument, Blake's sudden statement managed to pull them out of their bickering.

"Take a ring from you and we have to follow you forever?" Cassandra muttered, biting her lip.

Fleur, sitting across from her, glanced sceptically at Blake, clearly having the same thought.

Cassandra was convinced Blake didn't want to offend either of them, so he resorted to a poorly crafted excuse, hoping to give them both an out. After all, no one would sell themselves for a ring's power—not at such a steep cost.

But what puzzled her was that Blake didn't seem like he was joking. His tone was calm, almost serious.

Even Fleur, who was usually quick to argue, refrained from answering right away.

The silence hung awkwardly until Blake, noticing their reluctance, smiled faintly and added, "If you change your mind, you can come to me anytime."

Sliding the ring back into his pocket, Blake observed the two girls carefully. While their bickering stopped, the tension between them had only shifted. Fleur deliberately moved to sit on Blake's right side, away from Cassandra, who stayed on his left.

Blake sighed inwardly, sipping from his flask. 'If only they could get along... or at least sit closer together.'

The rest of the day didn't offer much respite. Blake's group encountered several attacks from undead creatures, and while they weren't particularly dangerous, they weren't rewarding either. Compared to magical animals, undead creatures dropped minimal loot—mostly odd bone powder and strange venom.

Still, Blake remained focused. By the time night fell, they stumbled upon a small hillside, defensible and strategically sound. Blake decided it was time to camp.

He wasted no time setting up fortifications. First, he planted a thick wall of mutated devil's nets around the hill, their dark tendrils weaving a nearly impenetrable barrier. These were plants Blake had cultivated during an earlier battle with Amut and now transplanted here.

Next came another layer of defences: an array of peculiar plants Cassandra and Fleur had never seen.

"What… are those?" Cassandra asked, watching Blake mutter names like "potato mines" and "cherry bombs" as he worked.

"They're defensive plants," Blake replied without elaborating.

Though the girls were unfamiliar with these strange creations, they instinctively knew not to step near them.

For the final line of defense, Blake planted enormous, purple mushrooms. With a gentle stroke, they released a dense purple mist, forming clouds that rose to cover the airspace above.

By the time he finished, the hill was shielded from every angle. Any enemy attempting an attack, whether by land or air, would face a series of deadly surprises.

Blake took pride in his work. These plants had been painstakingly cultivated in his greenhouse for this very purpose.

But his satisfaction waned when he returned to find Cassandra and Fleur still arguing over the tent. Despite all the time he'd spent on fortifications, the girls had failed to set up even the basic frame.

Blake pinched the bridge of his nose, exasperated. "Forget it. Let me handle it. I don't want to sleep directly in the open. Also, I don't want to spend the night hiding in a stuffy suitcase."

With a flick of his wand, the tent assembled itself in moments. It stood tall and impressive, over three meters high, its inconspicuous exterior hiding the luxuries within.

When Cassandra and Fleur stepped inside, they couldn't hide their astonishment.

"It's huge!" Fleur exclaimed, marvelling at the spacious interior.

The tent had multiple finely decorated rooms: bedrooms, a fully equipped kitchen, a bathroom, and even a swimming pool.

"This... is incredible," Cassandra admitted, though she tried not to sound too impressed.

Blake smirked at their reactions. "I thought you'd like it. Custom-made—cost me five hundred gold Galleons."

Cassandra raised an eyebrow. "Five hundred?"

"It's worth it," Blake replied simply, already heading toward the kitchen. "Now, how about some steak for dinner?"

Fleur and Cassandra exchanged glances.

"Maybe we should cook," Fleur offered hesitantly.

"You've already done so much," Cassandra agreed.

Blake considered it, but a quick dive into their thoughts via Legilimency revealed the truth—they had never cooked a proper meal in their lives. Stifling a laugh, he shook his head. "It's fine. I have a new recipe I want to try."

The sizzle of meat soon filled the air, the aroma wafting through the tent. Cassandra and Fleur, seated at the table, couldn't help but fidget as their stomachs growled.

But just as Blake was putting the steaks in the oven for finishing touches, a wolf's howl broke the tranquillity.

Cassandra froze. "Blake… is something coming?"

Blake, wiping his hands, remained calm. "Don't worry. The defences will handle it."

Outside, the ground shook as explosions echoed through the night. The devil's nets ensnared most of the attackers, while the mines and bombs dealt with the rest.

Inside, Blake silenced the noise with a snap of his fingers, allowing the three of them to eat in peace.

Cassandra and Fleur couldn't contain their delight as they tasted Blake's perfectly cooked steaks.

"How did you know I like mine medium rare?" Cassandra asked, her voice softer than usual.

Blake shrugged. "Lucky guess."

Fleur arched an eyebrow. "And mine medium well? Another lucky guess?"

Blake smiled slyly. "Let's just say I'm good at reading people."

Cassandra's cheeks flushed, while Fleur narrowed her eyes, her competitive streak reignited. Though the meal was excellent, the tension between the two girls simmered beneath the surface.

Blake, meanwhile, focused on the situation outside. His fortifications were holding, but he decided to intervene anyway. After finishing his steak, he tossed a small enchanted ball out of the tent.

"Don't kill them," he instructed. "Just bring back what's useful."

A low growl answered him as one of his summoned creatures leapt into action.

With the attackers subdued, the trio retired to their rooms. Exhausted, Blake barely had time to drift off before the door creaked open.

A white kitten padded inside, leaping onto his bed and curling into his arms.

"Meow~"

"Finished the job?" Blake asked softly.

The kitten purred, nuzzling his chest.

"Good. We'll deal with it in the morning."

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