"It seems I've got no choice," Professor Babbling said softly, though her tone was laced with amusement. "Thank you for your help today."
"So, no matter what you ask, I'll help you."
She had leveraged Blake's popularity and remarkable abilities, and today's class had gone exceptionally well because of it.
Blake leaned back, swallowing hard. "Really... anything?"
Professor Babbling rolled her eyes, suppressing a grin. "Stop pretending. I've met real troublemakers—you're not one. Let's continue. You know what they say, 'Everything is difficult at the beginning.' But this? We're off to a great start."
Seamus raised his hand. "Professor, how do we make the ancient runes actually do magic?"
"Good question," she replied. "While ancient runes are magical symbols, just writing them isn't enough. You need magical talent to activate them. If you were a Muggle, they wouldn't respond."
Blake remained silent, though he knew that Muggles could use ancient runes—if they were using the enchanted cards he'd created. He believed Muggles could eventually harness magical runes independently, once the origins of magic were better understood. But that was a discovery for the future.
Professor Babbling pressed on. "As Blake said earlier, drawing runes requires the same concentration you'd use when casting a spell. Focus, and let your quill act like your wand."
"Hoola!" A small flame burst on Hermione's parchment. She dropped her charred quill and quickly snuffed out the fire with her textbook.
"Miss Granger! Well done—five points to Gryffindor!"
"Boom!" Seamus's desk exploded in two.
Startled, he looked at the wreckage. His wand had been in his pocket. Why had it exploded?
With a wave of her wand, Professor Babbling repaired the desk. "Mr. Finnigan, technically, you succeeded. But I do sense a fondness for explosions..."
Blake stared at Seamus in awe. The explosion had blackened his face, yet he hadn't lost a single eyebrow. A true blasting genius.
As the lesson ended, students filed out chatting excitedly about ancient runes. Electives didn't run in blocks like core classes, so the period ended quickly.
Standing at the doorway, Professor Babbling cautioned, "Please don't practice runes linked to destructive elements like fire. I don't want complaints about burned carpets. And Mr. Finnigan—practice somewhere... safer."
Seamus winced.
She then caught Blake's eye as he lingered in the corridor. "You can stay behind."
"Okay, Professor." Blake turned to Hermione. "Go ahead to Care of Magical Creatures. I'll catch up."
Hermione hesitated, watching him disappear into the office with Babbling. She ruffled her hair, puzzled, then walked off.
Inside, Babbling got straight to the point. "Alright. What do you need me to do?"
"I'm starting an experiment. I need someone deeply versed in ancient runes to assist. As far as I know, you're the most qualified in the UK."
"That's... flattering," she said, brushing off the compliment.
"It's not flattery," Blake replied. "You weren't before—but after my training, you've surpassed the rest."
Babbling laughed, pouring him a glass of wine. "To our collaboration."
Blake pushed the glass back. "Thank you, Professor. But I'm underage."
"Ah, I keep forgetting you're only—thirteen?" She looked him up and down.
"At thirteen, a wizard is already a man," Blake muttered, uncomfortable under her gaze.
"Alright, 'little man.' What's the experiment?"
"I'm designing an alchemical device that requires unique combinations of ancient runes. We need to test and identify the effective pairings."
Babbling sighed, slightly flushed from the wine. "Sounds exhausting."
Blake smiled. "But it'll push your rune skills further than anything else could."
Her eyes lit up. "Deal! But... the wine wasn't to make me your assistant. What about feeding the Nifflers?"
"You volunteering again?" Blake teased.
Babbling: ...
In the Room of Requirement, Blake was sketching an intricate blueprint by hand.
Cassandra watched, awestruck. "You don't use rulers or guides. How are your lines straighter than mine with tools?"
Blake didn't look up. "If I pause to use tools, it breaks my focus. Besides, it's just a blueprint. Why would it be wrong?"
Cassandra rolled her eyes. Just a blueprint? She could barely write legibly on a good day.
She glanced at the page. Runes she didn't recognize covered every line. "What is this?"
"The blueprint for a vanishing cabinet."
Blake had used his 'real eye' to scan a disappearing cabinet gifted by Nicolas Flamel and transcribed its design. He needed to develop a portable teleportation method—something that could replace his dimension gate.
If his magic faltered during time travel, he might not return for a long time—or at all. The gate's function needed to be portable, flexible, and secure.
Vanishing cabinets teleported to fixed destinations but remained in place. That wouldn't do. He needed something like a Portkey—where the object traveled with the person.
And fixed destinations wouldn't work either. His device needed to handle multiple endpoints.
So, he would study the principles of the cabinet, adapt its core ideas, and enhance it through alchemy and runes.
Once Blake was focused, he tuned everything out. Cassandra had questions, but she knew better than to interrupt him.
Meanwhile, Professor Babbling was swamped.
As an elective professor, she didn't have a heavy course load or much grading. That left her with plenty of time to dedicate to the experiment.
For two straight days, she remained holed up in her office, working through endless permutations of rune combinations.
Disheveled and red-eyed, she muttered, "This is not an easy job..."
Yet she pressed on, driven by a deep love for runes—and the intrigue of Blake's vision.
She'd always believed ancient runes held incredible power. But Blake's idea of restoring teleportation magic through runes? That was revolutionary.
"Alchemy and runes are inseparable. Why can't the old fools see that?" she growled, cursing the academics who had ignored her theories.
Night fell before she finally completed step one—identifying the combinations most likely to produce a teleportation effect.
Tears welled up in her eyes as she looked at the thick stack of parchment. But then the realization sank in.
Each set would need to be tested.
If even one group had errors, they'd have to start over.
Slumping in her chair, she whispered, "Blake's work is seriously hard..."
Still, she couldn't complain. His task was no easier.
Suddenly, a brilliant white phoenix flew through her open window, landing on her desk.
It tilted its head and glanced at her cleavage—which had been exposed slightly due to the heat and her open robes.
Then Blake's voice rang out from the creature's beak:
"So big and white—uh, no! I mean, based on the timeline, you should have completed step one. Let's meet and test the combinations."
The phoenix hesitated, then vanished in a cloud of white mist.
Blushing furiously, Professor Babbling clutched her robes shut.
"That little brat... How does he see through a Patronus? It's only supposed to carry messages! And how did he know I'd just finished? Can he predict the future?"
Unable to answer her own questions, she threw on a pale blue robe and pointed hat, gathered her parchments, and headed out.