Blake stepped forward, closing the distance between them. Cassandra hesitated but couldn't hold back any longer.
"You can talk to my parents," she offered, though her tone lacked confidence.
Blake rubbed his nose, looking slightly embarrassed. "Uh...your father and I have a bit of a misunderstanding."
Cassandra sighed, remembering her father's barely concealed hostility toward Blake. It was best to avoid another clash between them.
"Fine. I'll help you with your transformation skills. As for the Delacour family... I'll find someone to speak to Mr. Delacour."
Blake nodded. He was no longer the lone commander, handling everything himself. Though most of his newly recruited subordinates were eccentric at best, some were surprisingly competent.
Cassandra's gaze landed on the large, slightly messy bed in the room. "You're sleeping here tonight?"
Blake glanced at his watch. "Well… I tend to stay up late. If I go back now, I might disturb my roommates, so I just rest here."
He hesitated, then added, "It's late. You could sleep here tonight too."
Cassandra's face turned crimson. "W-Who wants to sleep with you?! I'm going back!"
She stomped on his foot hard. Blake blinked in confusion. "Huh? I meant you could rest here and think about the 'four major things.' I didn't say I'd be sleeping with you..."
Realizing her misunderstanding, Cassandra felt her face burn. She barely managed to mumble, "Hmm..."
Blake coughed awkwardly and drew a portal with a flick of his wrist. The doorway shimmered, revealing the entrance to the Slytherin common room.
"Good night," he said.
"N-Night...good night..." Cassandra covered her face and rushed through the portal. Even after getting into bed, her embarrassment lingered.
"How could I mishear that?! Ugh, so embarrassing!"
Meanwhile, at Malfoy Manor, a door slammed shut with a loud "bang!"
"Dobby! Take this money and go to Green's Potions Store tomorrow! Buy me that life-extending potion!" Lucius Malfoy sneered. "Not the cheap three-Galleon version, the fifteen-hundred-Galleon one from the newspaper!"
The house-elf trembled and nodded. "Yes, Master Malfoy, Dobby will... will get it."
Lucius scoffed and left, slamming the door behind him. Dobby, left alone, clutched the small coin pouch. His hands, covered in scars from years of abuse, shook as he thought about what Blake had told him days ago.
Freedom.
The thought haunted him. He wanted it, longed for it. But... could he really break free?
From his pocket, Dobby pulled out a tiny vial, the potion Blake had secretly given him.
"Drink this," Blake had said. "It might free you. Or... it might kill you."
Dobby's ears drooped. Tonight's beating had been especially brutal. He had nearly died. His resolve hardened. If there was even a small chance to escape this torment... he had to take it.
Hands trembling, he uncorked the bottle and drank the potion in one desperate gulp.
—
The next morning, at Green's Potion Store, chaos erupted.
Ackerman Allen, acting store manager, looked eerily like Snape when dressed in a black wizard's robe. Blake had appointed him because, at a glance, he seemed like a potions expert. It was a bluff—but an effective one.
As the store doors opened at precisely nine o'clock, a mob surged forward, eager to get their hands on the coveted life-extending potion. Bode, the shop assistant, barely had time to react before people poured in.
Within thirty minutes, all 5,000 bottles of the diluted potion and the 20 bottles of the pure version were sold out.
Even after the store closed, the crowd outside refused to disperse. Blake had anticipated this and had stationed Tonks and a team of Aurors to prevent a stampede.
Inside the store, exhaustion hit the staff like a tidal wave. Everyone collapsed onto the floor, drained despite only working for an hour and a half.
Bode glanced outside at the lingering crowd. "If only we had more potions…"
Old Lepp, smoking his pipe, shook his head. "No. This is what Blake calls 'hunger marketing.' We let them experience the magic of the potion first. When they see results, word will spread, and demand will skyrocket. Then, we'll expand our inventory."
Bode nodded in understanding. "I see…"
Lepp clapped his hands. "Alright, everyone, pack up. We have to prepare for tomorrow's rush. Soon, with the Delacour partnership, we won't have to work as hard."
—
Meanwhile, at Malfoy Manor, Lucius stormed into the kitchen. "Dobby! Where's my potion?!"
When no response came, he frowned. Then, his eyes landed on Narcissa, kneeling on the floor, shaking Dobby's limp body.
"You fool! He's just being lazy!" Lucius raised his cane to strike, but Narcissa grabbed his arm.
"Enough, Lucius! Look what you've done!"
Lucius scoffed. "So? If he's sick, he still has to complete his duties."
"And if he dies, who will cook for you?" Narcissa snapped. Lucius hesitated. There was only one house-elf in the family. If Dobby died, it would be... inconvenient.
After a moment's thought, he sneered. "Fine. If he doesn't wake up by tomorrow, we'll get a healer from St. Mungo's."
—
Dobby didn't wake up.
Lucius grew frustrated. He had beaten the elf, shouted at him, but Dobby remained unresponsive. Finally, unwilling to lose his property, he called a healer.
After examining Dobby, the healer sighed. "Mr. Malfoy, even tools need to be handled with care. This house-elf is beyond hope."
Lucius frowned. "Beyond hope? Just because I disciplined him?"
The healer shook his head. "No. He had a pre-existing condition. A rare, terminal disease among house-elves. It usually only affects older elves, but..."
Lucius clicked his tongue. "Tch… contagious?"
"To wizards, it's just a mild illness. But for house-elves, it's fatal. You'll need a disease-cleansing potion, just to be safe."
Lucius recoiled in disgust. "So he's useless now?"
His eyes flickered toward the unconscious Dobby. After a pause, he grabbed a nearby apron and tossed it at the elf.
"Get out! You're fired!"
The healer watched impassively. It was common for house-elves to react with devastation when dismissed. But Dobby's reaction stunned him.
Dobby stirred. His eyes fluttered open, staring at the apron in disbelief. Then, tears welled up in his large, tennis-ball-sized eyes.
He trembled. Clutched the fabric. And then—
"Dobby... Dobby is free!"
Lucius' sneer faltered. "W-What?"
Dobby stumbled to his feet, holding the apron like a prized treasure.
Tears streamed down his face—not from sorrow, but joy.
"Dobby is free! Dobby is a free elf!"
Lucius gaped as Dobby snapped his fingers.
With a pop, he disappeared—taking the apron with him.
=============
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