Professor Kettleburn eyed Blake suspiciously. "A real gift? What do you mean by 'real'?"
He had heard of dark magic capable of attaching others' limbs to one's own body. Surely Blake wasn't considering such a thing? No one would willingly cut off their own limbs for another! If Blake truly had such an idea, it meant he intended to attack someone. That was unacceptable! Blake was too talented to go astray!
Kettleburn's expression darkened from mild curiosity to deep concern. Blake, noticing the shift, sighed.
"I will not accept other people's hands and feet!" he declared, shaking his head. "Merlin, Professor, how could you even think that?"
Kettleburn let out a breath of relief but remained stern. "If your mind is not in the right place, then no matter how gifted you are, what separates you from You-Know-Who?"
Blake chuckled. "Professor, that's why I like you. You're a good man. But you've misunderstood me—I would never use dark magic on my own people."
Kettleburn furrowed his brows. "Then what do you mean by 'real' hands and feet?"
Blake set his butterbeer down and grinned. "Well, aside from dark magic, there are plenty of other ways."
"Like what?"
"We let them grow back."
Kettleburn froze, staring at him. If anyone else had made such a claim, he would have dismissed it outright. But this was Blake—an inventor who had already revolutionized the wizarding world with his life-extending potion. A flicker of hope ignited in the old professor's heart.
Reaching into his robes, he pulled out a silver treasure chest, handing it to Blake. "You're serious? You've invented another potion?"
Blake nodded. "I'm working on one. I call it the 'Curse Removal and Healing Potion.'"
Kettleburn's eyes widened. "Curse removal... You mean..."
He trailed off, glancing down at his missing limbs. St. Mungo's could have restored them—if not for the lingering curses from the magical creatures that had taken them in the first place. The wounds had never properly healed, leaving him permanently maimed.
Blake's words suggested that, if the curse were removed, his limbs could regenerate.
"When you complete this potion, I'll gladly be the first to test it!" Kettleburn declared.
Blake smiled. "I appreciate your trust, Professor, but I wouldn't test an unfinished potion on you. Besides, that's not the gift I meant."
Kettleburn blinked. "It's not?"
"The potion is still in development, but the gift I have for you—well, I can give it to you right now."
"Now?!" Kettleburn gasped. "You mean... today? My arms and legs—"
"If you trust me, yes."
"Of course, I trust you! But... how?"
Blake pulled out his wand, a beautifully crafted artifact imbued with a wish-fulfilling charm. "While researching potions, I happened to invent a spell."
If Blake had been any other young wizard, Kettleburn would have dismissed his words as the ramblings of an overconfident student. But Blake had already created miracles.
"Alright," Kettleburn said after a moment of thought. "I'll give it a try."
Blake nodded. "It might hurt a little. I can cast an anesthetic spell if you'd like?"
"Anesthetic spell? Is there such a thing?" Kettleburn asked in surprise.
"There is now." Blake flicked his wand, and a soft blue light enveloped Kettleburn.
The professor's eyes widened. "I... I can't feel my body!"
He pinched himself, but there was nothing—no pain, no sensation whatsoever.
Blake jotted down the incantation, then smiled apologetically. "Sorry, Professor. I should have only blocked the pain, not all sensation."
"No, no! This is incredible!" Kettleburn grinned. "Alright, Blake. Do it!"
Blake raised his wand. A bright blue light flashed.
Kettleburn felt an odd nudge against his chest, though he couldn't pinpoint the sensation. Suddenly, his prosthetic arm and leg detached.
"Professor, quickly! Remove your prosthetics!"
Kettleburn obeyed, unstrapping the artificial limbs he had long grown used to. As he did, he caught sight of his severed limbs—except now, something was happening.
The stumps of his arms and legs were bulging, as though something was pushing up from beneath the skin. A new arm and two new legs slowly emerged, forming with an almost otherworldly precision.
[Ding! Extreme joy detected!] [Ding! Congratulations! You have received a diamond treasure chest!]
Blake exhaled, casually lifting the anesthesia spell. With a flick of his wrist, he twirled his wand before tucking it back into his pocket.
Kettleburn, now fully conscious, stared at his newly grown limbs. The skin was fresh, soft, and unblemished. He flexed his fingers, feeling the life in them. He wiggled his toes, stood up, and took a step.
Then another. And another.
"I never thought..." Kettleburn choked up. "I never thought this would be possible."
He took a few shaky steps before walking faster. Then he was running—circling the room, laughing wildly like a child rediscovering the joy of movement. He ran until he was breathless, collapsing onto his chair with tears in his eyes.
Blake smirked. "Professor, I know you're excited, but you should take it easy. You can run whenever you want now."
Kettleburn grinned, gripping Blake's hand. "Blake, do you realize what you've done? This spell... it will change lives. The entire wizarding world will thank you."
Blake shrugged. "If it were you, Professor, you'd do the same."
"No, Blake. The world will remember this. The Order of Merlin, First Class—it should have been yours for your life-extending potion. And now? Now they owe you another!"
Blake laughed, waving off the idea. "Medals, ceremonies, all that stuff—it's not what I care about. If they started handing me awards for everything, they'd need an entire vault just for me."
Kettleburn chuckled, admiration clear in his gaze. "Not chasing fame, only wanting to contribute to the world... You remind me of a young Dumbledore. It's truly an honor to have been your professor."
[Ding! Joy detected!] [Ding! Congratulations! You have received a golden treasure chest!]
Before Blake could respond, Kettleburn's stomach growled loudly. He clutched it, startled. "I—I'm starving!"
Blake laughed. "Growing new limbs takes a lot of energy. But don't worry, I came prepared."
He pulled a large food box from his enchanted pocket and opened it, revealing a feast of meats and hearty dishes.
Kettleburn's eyes lit up. "Well, I won't say no! I'll eat quickly—then I'm off to find Dumbledore and show off! He needs to see this. And Blake, mark my words—this time, they will award you another First-Class Order of Merlin!"
Blake just smiled, taking a sip of his butterbeer as Kettleburn dug into his meal, still marveling at the miracle Blake had given him.
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