Professor McGonagall's gaze flicked between Blake and Hermione for nearly a minute.
Blake's smile began to feel forced.
"Blake, can you truly guarantee Miss Granger has mastered all her electives?" McGonagall asked, her tone serious.
"Yes, Professor. I can guarantee it," Blake replied with a firm nod.
McGonagall looked at Hermione, who stood behind Blake like a nervous quail.
"If she truly has, I can arrange for an early exam. But if this is just to give her free time to waste with you…"
Her eyes sharpened.
"Of course not, Professor," Blake said quickly. "If she isn't ready, she'll fail the exam. There's nothing to gain from cheating."
McGonagall studied him, then turned to Hermione.
"Miss Granger, are you certain? If you fail, I'll have to deduct twenty points for exaggerating your preparedness."
Hermione nodded. "I'm ready, Professor McGonagall."
McGonagall sighed, the sternness in her face softening.
"I do hope you succeed. If you do, you'll be the first third-year in Hogwarts history to pass elective exams just a week into term."
"Thank you for believing in me, Professor," Hermione said, touching the time-turner around her neck.
McGonagall held up a hand. "Keep it for now. But if you fail, I will take it back without protest."
In truth, if not for Blake's involvement, McGonagall would never have entertained such an absurd idea. One week of study? Brand new textbooks?
But if Blake vouched for her, there must be a reason.
"Very well. The exam will be next Monday. Prepare thoroughly. It's already ten o'clock—go rest. I won't deduct points tonight, but see me during the day next time."
McGonagall returned to her desk.
Blake and Hermione bowed and turned to leave.
Just then, there was a knock.
"Come in," McGonagall called, frowning.
The door creaked open. Filch entered, proudly dragging two disheveled students.
"Caught these two trying to sneak out after curfew, Professor!"
He beamed upon seeing Blake. The two students looked sheepish.
"Fred? George?" Blake blinked.
He'd expected someone to get caught, but not them. They were pros at late-night wandering—and with the Marauder's Map, nearly untouchable.
Before Blake had come to Hogwarts, the twins had made Filch miserable. Yet now, they'd been caught?
"They tried to exit through the front gates. I set a little trap on the bolt. Got 'em red-handed!" Filch said proudly.
McGonagall's face paled in fury.
"Fred Weasley. George Weasley. Again? How many times? Four points from Gryffindor. And half a month's detention!"
She scowled toward Blake, feeling another pang. Hufflepuff, with Blake, had swept every House Cup recently.
He should've been in Gryffindor. He was Dumbledore's protégé! According to tradition, he belonged with them.
Why Hufflepuff?
She turned her anger back to Blake. "Why are you still here? Want me to deduct your points too?"
Blake grabbed Hermione's hand and dashed out.
He was certain—had Hermione not been with him, McGonagall would've seized the chance to dock points.
As they ran, Blake pieced it together. Filch's bolt trap—he remembered analyzing it when he first arrived. Fred and George had been curious then. Filch must have noticed and quietly enchanted the bolt.
They'd taken the bait.
"Looks like Filch's ancient runes are decent," Blake muttered.
Hermione blinked. "Ancient runes? Filch knows those?"
"Been studying for a while."
"How do you know that?"
"Because I taught him," Blake said with a grin.
"Again?" Hermione exclaimed, then sighed. "Of course it was you."
If something odd happened, odds were Blake was behind it.
"So Gryffindor lost forty points tonight because of you?"
"Hey—it wasn't me sneaking out. They usually used secret passages. They randomly picked the front door this time. Not my fault."
Hermione pouted, but she knew he was right.
Curiosity won over frustration.
Back in the Room of Requirement, Hermione asked, "How did Filch use rune cards?"
"Remember I told you about magic cards? Runes can be inscribed on them, creating magical effects."
Blake explained the mechanism behind ancient rune cards. Hermione's eyes sparkled.
"So Filch caught the twins using a rune card trap you taught him to make?"
"That's right. Not my doing though," Blake emphasized.
Hermione looked at him with awe.
All because Filch struggled with magic, Blake had invented a workaround.
"You mean... because he was weak in casting spells, you created an entire system of rune-based magic cards?"
Blake nodded modestly.
Hermione felt her breath catch.
He was suffocatingly talented. Still, she looked at her soul lantern, determined.
"Give me your lamp. I'll enhance it tonight," Blake offered.
Hermione shook her head. "No. I've decided to learn alchemy from you. I want to perfect it myself. When I do, I'll be a true master."
"Excellent! Be ambitious!" Blake cheered.
"But... just alchemy won't cut it. You'll also need ancient runes, soul magic, charms, herbology..."
He listed seventeen subjects before finally stopping.
Hermione's jaw dropped. "I thought it was just alchemy!"
"You can do it," Blake said, ruffling her hair. She protested weakly as he turned her hair into a nest.
Then he handed her a thick, black notebook.
"These are my teacher Nicholas Flamel's alchemy notes. They contain the core of his life's work. They're yours now."
Hermione gasped. "This is too precious! I can't accept it!"
"You must. Knowledge means nothing if it's not shared. If it's too precious to pass on, it's as good as forgotten."
Hermione clutched the notebook, overwhelmed.
Nicolas Flamel's personal notes. A gift. To her.
She was touched, amazed—and oddly joyful.
Meanwhile, Blake's system chimed with a cascade of rewards. Hermione really was a treasure.
"You won't understand the notes right away," Blake said. "Start with the soul lantern—it'll help you build a foundation. I'll give you a reading list."
Hermione's eyes gleamed. "I'll study hard!"
"Need help with the lantern, or want to do it yourself?"
"I'll perfect it myself," Hermione said with conviction.
"That's the spirit. You've got a long way to go—or maybe not so long."
Blake glanced at the soul lantern.
"My book collection is in the suitcase in the wooden house. I'll leave the list there."
Despite her excitement, Hermione noticed something.
Blake sounded like someone preparing for a journey.
"Blake... are you going somewhere?"
Blake hesitated, then shook his head. "Where would I go?"
"You just sounded like you were preparing everything before leaving…"
"No, I'm staying. You're all here."
He patted her head again.
But inside, Blake sighed.
Her instincts were sharp.
Time travel was unpredictable. He had no idea when it would begin, or where he'd end up. But he had to be ready.
He wasn't just preparing himself. He was preparing everyone around him.
Hermione had her soul lantern and Flamel's notes.
Cassandra had enchanted moonflowers and rare magical plants.
And there was still so much left to prepare.
Time travel was dangerous.
But Blake wasn't ready to leave the people he cared about behind.
Not yet.