Cassandra always thought Hermione was strange.
She glanced at Blake, confused.
Blake just shook his head, offering no explanation. He could feel it—Hermione didn't have the energy to spare.
Hermione, completely absorbed in her book, ignored Cassandra. She didn't even look up when Blake took a sip of coffee and motioned for Cassandra to sit across from him.
Cassandra, seeing Blake's silence, dropped the subject and quietly enjoyed her coffee.
After finishing his drink, Blake pulled out a bag and resumed his sewing.
Cassandra watched, intrigued. She didn't quite understand what Blake was crafting, but she recognized the hallmarks of alchemy in his technique. Rather than interrupt, she quietly observed, mentally recording his method for her own improvement.
The room settled into a peaceful silence.
Time passed.
Eventually, Blake finished the bag and examined it with satisfaction. Only then did he notice Cassandra asleep in the nearby armchair, head tilted to the side.
Hermione, too, had fallen asleep—head on the table, quill dropped to the floor.
Blake checked his pocket watch: 3:00 a.m.
He sighed. One girl had stayed up waiting for him, the other had dozed off mid-essay.
"Didn't I promise I'd stop staying up late for my looks?" he muttered, shaking his head. "This isn't comfortable for either of you."
He walked over to Cassandra first, leaned down, and gently picked her up.
She stirred slightly, opened her eyes briefly, saw it was Blake, and nestled closer to him without hesitation—adjusting herself comfortably in his arms before drifting off again.
Blake stared, speechless. "This girl really plans to sleep like this all night?"
Carrying her into the nearby cabin, he laid her on the bed, removed her shoes, and tucked her in.
Then he returned and scooped up Hermione.
She was out cold—his movement didn't even stir her.
He hesitated but decided to lay her next to Cassandra.
"They'll survive," he murmured.
Blake walked back out and eyed the table stacked with Hermione's books. He picked one up, flipped through a few pages, then frowned.
He grabbed several more, skimming through each. His frown deepened.
Hermione wasn't just studying core subjects and electives.
She had expanded into advanced ancient runes, even diving deep into potion theory far beyond Hogwarts' curriculum. She had analyzed how specific ingredients interacted and how they influenced a potion's effect—research that usually took a lifetime.
Like Snape's.
Even Blake, as talented as he was, had only mastered such knowledge with system assistance.
"What are you trying to do, Hermione? Learn everything at once?"
No wonder she was constantly busy.
It all made sense now.
Blake sighed and set the books down. Then he picked up a small bottle left on the table and swallowed a pill from it.
He turned toward the open space in the Room of Requirement.
The room responded, constructing a new wooden cabin.
Blake pulled out a piece of parchment. On it was a colorful drawing of a short man in bright clothes, a tie, and a ridiculous hat.
"Tom's gone," he said softly. "So it's your turn, Peeves. Do me this favor, and I'll release you."
He entered the newly formed cabin with the parchment in hand.
The sky in the Room of Requirement mirrored the outside perfectly—even the morning sunlight.
That light stirred Hermione awake.
She blinked, shielding her eyes. "Wasn't I writing last night...?"
Then she felt someone lying next to her.
She froze. Cheeks flushing, she turned her head slowly...
...and locked eyes with a sleepy Cassandra.
Cassandra blinked, registered who it was, and her face momentarily dropped in disappointment.
Hermione noticed and narrowed her eyes. "She expected someone else."
Grumpily, Hermione got up and put on her shoes without a word.
Cassandra, now fully awake, followed suit.
Neither girl saw Blake.
But they did see a new wooden cabin in the clearing.
Assuming Blake had made it for himself—since they had occupied his bed—they didn't question it.
Hermione rushed back to last night's table, rummaged through her books, and found her watch.
Her eyes widened in panic. "It's nine o'clock!"
She frantically stuffed books into her bag.
"Granger, are you dumb from reading too much? It's Saturday," Cassandra said dryly.
"Huh?" Hermione double-checked the class schedule.
Sure enough, Friday had Potions in the afternoon—she'd gone. She'd spent the evening working on that essay with Blake in the library.
Realization dawned. "Oh... right. It's the weekend."
Hermione visibly relaxed. For the first time in ages, she had nothing scheduled.
"Don't just stand there. Aren't you curious what he's doing in there?" Cassandra asked.
"Probably sleeping," Hermione muttered.
"Nope. He always gets up for breakfast. If he's still in there, he's working on something."
Hermione frowned. Cassandra's confidence was annoying.
"Tch. You don't know him at all," Cassandra added, walking toward the cabin.
Hermione, flustered, trailed behind.
Cassandra reached to knock, but before her knuckles hit the door, a soft force pushed her back a few meters.
Hermione jumped in surprise.
Cassandra stood, stunned. "That jerk! He scared me!"
Just then, the door creaked open.
Blake stepped out, looking a bit haggard.
"Good morning... Oh, sorry Cassandra. Did I frighten you? I was focusing on something."
Cassandra brushed it off. "I'm not mad."
"Really? You were screaming a second ago," Hermione teased.
Cassandra glared.
"Did you stay up all night again?" Cassandra asked.
"Yeah. Had a burst of inspiration. You know how that is."
"You should've slept... You'll wear yourself out," she said, clearly worried.
Blake smiled. "Anyway, you two haven't eaten, right? Let's get breakfast. Hermione, I need to talk to you after. Don't bury yourself in books just yet."
Hermione blinked, surprised but nodded.
Behind Blake, the cabin slowly sank back into the ground.
"Beck," he called.
With a pop, the house elf appeared. "Master Blake, what are your orders?"
"Good morning, Beck. Have you had breakfast?"
"Yes, Master Blake."
"Great. Could you fetch three breakfasts from the kitchen, please?"
"Of course! Beck lives to serve!"
Beck pulled out a pamphlet, flipping through it while glancing at Hermione and Cassandra.
Blake noticed the pamphlet and raised an eyebrow. The elf had documented his and his friends' food preferences in disturbing detail.
Before Beck could Disapparate, Blake handed him the Peeves-sealing parchment.
"First, find a spot and burn this to release what's inside. Then get breakfast."
"As you command, Master Blake."
And with a snap, Beck vanished.
Hermione, familiar with Beck's devotion, didn't comment.
Cassandra, however, wasted no time. "So? What were you working on all night?"
Blake's tired eyes brightened. "A little gadget. It's not perfect, but it works."
He pulled out something that looked like a desk lamp.
Hermione frowned. "A...lamp?"
"Not exactly. But yeah, it looks like one."
Cassandra tilted her head. "What's it do?"
Blake sighed, giving up on explaining the difference. It was a soul lantern, technically, but... whatever.
"Hermione, sit."
He opened one of her books, pointed to a paragraph. "Read this."
Hermione complied.
"Now recite it."
She blinked. "You didn't say to memorize it. I can paraphrase, though."
Blake nodded, placed the lamp on the table, and turned it on. A soft, moon-like glow washed over her.
"Now try."
Hermione began to protest—then paused.
The passage appeared vividly in her mind.
Word for word.
"What... how?!" she gasped.
Cassandra's eyes widened. She too realized—the light triggered perfect recall.
"This lamp... it makes you remember everything you just read?" she asked.
Blake nodded, switching it off. "Still remember it?"
Hermione nodded, stunned. "It's like I memorized it ten times over."
Then her expression changed.
"Wait... you stayed up all night just to make this for me?"
She looked at Blake, touched.
On the side, Cassandra's smile faded.
=============
Want to read more?
Join my Patreon
patreon.com/Max1mus
Also Please vote for this work with your Powerstones
And don't forget to leave a review