HP: Bad Intentions

The nights in the Otherworld place were eerily peaceful—especially after bloodshed.

Blake lay on his bed, exhausted. White, the kitten, purred softly in his arms, a steady reminder of their victories.

As his body slipped into sleep, Blake's soul separated, continuing its nocturnal routine.

Books floated midair, pages flipping under the guidance of Blake's translucent form. White opened a single green eye, gave a disinterested glance, and buried his face back into Blake's chest.

It was business as usual—until a soft sound of water interrupted the silence.

Curious, Blake's soul drifted through the walls, his ghostly hands holding the book as his head instinctively turned toward the noise.

There, in the adjacent room, Fleur stood, bathed in soft light, her defences completely lowered as she tested the water's temperature in the tub.

Blake froze.

His soul flinched at the sight, dropping the book with a loud thud. Hastily, he covered his eyes with transparent hands, an effort as futile as it was awkward.

"I didn't mean to!" he muttered, his spectral voice apologetic. "It was an accident!"

Morning came.

Blake woke early, looking refreshed despite the events of the night. Fleur, however, noticed something different. Blake avoided her gaze, and when their eyes did meet, he quickly looked away.

Breakfast was a simple affair—three plates of eggs and toast—and soon after, Blake stepped outside to inspect the aftermath of the night's battle.

The stench of blood clung to the air. Grimacing, Blake waved his wand. "Whirlwind Clean!"

A gust of wind swept the hill, carrying away much of the foul odour. Blake surveyed the scene below.

Hundreds of giant wolf corpses littered the foot of the hill, a grim testament to the previous night's attack. Despite the overwhelming numbers, Blake's magical plants stood resilient.

Except for disposable plants like potato mines, none of his flora had suffered significant damage.

Suddenly, a low moan reached his ears.

Blake turned to find a massive white wolf sprawled near the tent. Its fur was matted with blood, its body riddled with deep claw marks. Blake recognized the wolf—it was the pack's leader, the wolf king.

White had clearly fought hard to subdue it, and now the giant wolf lay there, breathing faintly, paralyzed by its wounds.

As Blake approached, Cassandra and Fleur emerged from the tent.

Their eyes widened in shock as they took in the aftermath.

"Blake…" Cassandra's voice trembled. "Are all these wolves… your plants' doing?"

Blake nodded.

Cassandra stared at the carnage, her fear growing. She hadn't expected the world to be so perilous. If not for Blake's foresight and his extraordinary plants, they would have been torn apart.

Fleur, on the other hand, moved closer to Blake. There was something about him—a strange, calming aura—that drew her in.

Unbeknownst to her, Blake was healing the wolf with his druidic magic, his aura temporarily infused with the soothing energy of nature.

Blake glanced down at the wolf, its hatred clear in its blazing eyes. Despite its injuries, the wolf exuded defiance.

"You're not killing it?" Fleur asked, tilting her head.

Blake smiled faintly. "I have other plans."

Fleur blinked, confused. "But how? It clearly hates us."

Blake's grin widened. "That's where my talent comes in."

He crouched beside the wolf, placing a hand on its forehead. Cassandra and Fleur watched, curious yet sceptical. Blake had explained his unique abilities before, but they hadn't seen him use them on such a powerful creature.

Closing his eyes, Blake channelled the power of the Archdruid. A soft cyan glow surrounded him, its warmth palpable even to the onlookers.

The wolf growled weakly, its body shuddering under the overwhelming power. Slowly, the hostility in its eyes began to fade.

Cassandra, who had been observing intently, gasped. "It's… working!"

At the same time, Fleur found herself inexplicably drawn to Blake. The energy radiating from him stirred something deep within her, compelling her to step closer.

Before she realized it, her trembling hand reached out to grasp Blake's arm. She leaned in, finding an inexplicable comfort in his presence.

Blake, deep in concentration, flinched at the sudden touch. Opening his eyes, he turned to see Fleur gazing up at him, her face inches from his own.

"W-What are you doing?" he stammered.

"I… don't know." Fleur's voice was soft, almost dazed. "I just feel… safe."

Blake's heart raced. "This is bad…" he muttered under his breath.

Suppressing his nerves, he refocused his energy. The wolf beneath him let out a soft whimper as the last traces of its defiance dissolved.

It was done.

Blake stood, wiping sweat from his brow. His mana was nearly depleted, but the wolf was now his ally.

Just as he exhaled in relief, Cassandra's sharp voice pierced the air.

"Why are you clinging to him?" she demanded, glaring at Fleur.

Fleur released Blake's arm and folded her arms defensively. "I was scared. What, am I not allowed to be afraid?"

"You—" Cassandra's face turned red with anger.

As the two began to bicker, Blake stepped back, relieved that Fleur seemed back to normal. However, when he caught her sly wink from behind Cassandra's back, his heart sank.

'No way…'

Blake groaned inwardly. Though Fleur had always shown a mild interest in him, this was different. His druidic magic, while effective on the wolf, had inadvertently amplified her feelings toward him.

"I didn't mean for this to happen…" he muttered to himself.

Determined to distract himself, Blake turned his attention back to the wolf.

The white wolf, though subdued, was still injured. Blake knelt beside it, channelling the last of his energy to heal its wounds.

The wolf growled softly but no longer resisted. Its eyes, once filled with hatred, now gleamed with a cautious respect.

"You'll be a fine addition," Blake murmured.

Cassandra, who had been watching from a distance, approached cautiously. "Blake, are you really keeping it?"

Blake nodded. "I think it'll come in handy."

Cassandra shivered at the thought of taming such a ferocious creature. Yet, she couldn't help but admire Blake's power.

Fleur, meanwhile, stayed silent, a thoughtful expression on her face.

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