HP: Bad Intentions

There wasn't a single dim mind among the people present. The moment Blake spoke, everyone grasped his meaning.

"So, the experiment didn't fail back then," someone murmured. "It just wasn't completed."

"And you vanished because you travelled through time," another added. "You went back years ago, finished the last step, and then brought yourself to the Marianne Orphanage…"

Grindelwald stared at Blake. "No wonder we couldn't find the lead experimenter. It was you… a kid…"

While no one could say with absolute certainty that Blake was the mysterious experimenter, the odds were now 99.9%.

It was clear: Blake completed the experiment in Grindelwald's era, then disappeared—knowing he'd end up in the orphanage in 1980. His time travel wasn't a disruption—it was part of history.

Snape listened, nervous but hopeful. If Blake succeeded in travelling back and creating himself, then Lily's experiment might also work.

"I shouldn't overthink this now," Snape said quietly. "Let's focus on what Blake might need."

Dumbledore, deep in thought, clearly considered what protective measures Blake might require. Grindelwald, too, went silent. Snape coughed, drawing attention to the experiment in progress. Neither man reacted.

Blake finally broke the silence. "It's fine. If soldiers come, we block them. If water floods in, we cover it. Let's finish the experiment."

He added, "This is practice—for gaining experience."

Dumbledore and Grindelwald both nodded, the former uncharacteristically supportive of the biological experiment. He was relieved he hadn't blocked Blake's research; had he succeeded in stopping it, Blake might have failed the time travel and never returned.

Or worse—he might never have attempted it at all.

Grindelwald clapped Blake on the shoulder. "Put your heart into it. If it doesn't work the first time, try again. I've got all the resources you need."

"Alright," Blake replied, carrying the biological petri dish toward the court's Chinese medicine doctor. He placed it down gently and activated his Eye of Reality to peer through the murky liquid.

Little Lily's body had nearly completed development—only one final step remained.

Blake caught Snape's worried glance and smiled. "Don't worry, Severus."

That smile seemed to calm Snape, at least slightly.

Blake pulled out a small bottle filled with the precious soul ashes he'd collected. "Professor Grindelwald, have you ever seen this?"

Grindelwald examined the contents. "No… I'd remember something this unique."

Blake nodded. That confirmed it—during the final phase of the original experiment, he hadn't yet shown Grindelwald these ashes. It supported the theory that Blake had been the mysterious experimenter all along.

Without hiding anything from Dumbledore or the others, Blake unfolded a square-meter-sized piece of white parchment. From his pockets, he retrieved red thread, red candles, humanoid puppets, and other materials.

Snape's scalp tingled. He recognized some of these items—they were what Blake had used to summon Lily's spirit before. That memory softened his expression. That day, Lily herself had untied the knot in his heart.

Next, Blake took out a bucket of some creature's blood and began painting a strange, intricate formation on the paper. He then lit the red candles one by one, placing them in specific positions and tying them with knotted red threads.

Seeing Dumbledore's confused expression, Blake explained, "A child made through biotech has no soul—just a body. Like I was, back then. To grant it a soul, I must make a deal with Death. The old soul passes, and a new one is born."

No one interrupted. They all understood this wasn't the time for questions.

Blake opened the soul ashes bottle and, after a moment's thought, extracted two wisps instead of one. "It's said in necromancy that one soul ash creates one soul. Two increases the quality. But more than two causes overflow."

The ashes hovered above the formation. Blake sat cross-legged and began chanting an ancient incantation.

Ten minutes passed. Snape grew restless—until suddenly, "Hoola!"

All eighteen red candle flames flared brightly. A gray mist erupted from the center of the formation, and countless whispers echoed within it.

In the silent chamber, it felt like many unseen beings had arrived.

Snape turned pale. This was far stranger than the last summoning.

Thankfully, the mist faded. The two wisps of soul ashes had vanished—replaced by a glowing bit of white light.

Blake guided the light with his wand until it settled at the tip, then flicked it toward the petri dish.

Up until now, the process resembled creating a Bent-Horned Snorlax—but instead of beast soul ashes, Blake had used pure necromantic material.

"Did it work?" Snape asked.

"I think so," Blake replied. "I can feel the strength of the soul. It's not ordinary."

Snape stared at the petri dish. "Then… how long until…"

"It'll take a bit," Blake said.

Snape nodded, then straightened up. "I'm ready."

"You are?" Blake asked. "Did you bring milk powder?"

Snape blinked. "Milk powder? No…"

"Diapers?"

"Uh… no…"

"Not even a clean cloth?"

"No…"

"Then how can you say you're ready?" Blake's voice rose.

Snape flushed with embarrassment. Dumbledore watched with astonishment—he'd never seen this particular expression on Snape's face before. Shame?

"You didn't say I needed those things—"

"If you read those books, you'd know," Blake cut in. "Do you want me to remind you to buy essentials?"

Snape fell silent.

Grindelwald chuckled. "If you need supplies, I can arrange it. It's better to prepare now."

"No need," Blake said. "I never expected Severus to handle it. I've got everything ready."

Grindelwald beamed. "That's our son—always prepared."

Dumbledore shot Grindelwald a glare, but said nothing.

[Ding!]

A crisp sound drew all eyes to the petri dish. Not a system alert—just the sound built into the apparatus.

"Oh…" Blake muttered. He'd been meaning to change that notification tone—it sounded too much like a microwave ding…

Snape stepped forward anxiously. "Then—let's go!"

"Relax, Severus." Blake pushed him back gently. Then he retrieved a suitcase and pulled out an insulated box with a transparent display window.

Blake had planned ahead.

He approached the petri dish, pressed his palm against the console, and with a crack, the lid opened. A wave of fishy odor wafted out.

A small figure rose from the murky fluid. Blake tapped it with his wand, cleansing away the grime.

In his hand, he now held a soft white cloth. Expertly, he wrapped the baby. His years in the orphanage—helping Marianne care for abandoned infants—had made him quite skilled.

Snape hovered nervously nearby but didn't step closer.

Blake took a moment to study the baby girl in his arms—pink, perfect, her bright green eyes staring up at him with uncanny calm.

No cries. No fussing.

She was clearly no soulless husk. The experiment had succeeded.

Blake stared down at her. "Odd changes to even and stays the same…"

"Waaah!"

She burst into tears.

"Ah…" Blake was stunned. She'd been quiet moments ago. Was it the code phrase? Did she recognize it?

Then again—maybe she was just cold. Nurmengard's stone chambers weren't warm.

Blake gently placed her in the incubator, set to the perfect temperature. She stopped crying immediately.

"So… it was just the cold?" he murmured, slightly disappointed.

"Can I see her?" Snape asked, unable to wait any longer.

"Of course." Blake stepped aside. "Everyone can take a look."

As the others gathered around the swaddled infant, Blake quickly cleaned the tools and materials scattered on the floor.

Snape peered into the incubator. His vision blurred.

Those eyes… those green eyes…

He would have a daughter—his daughter—with Lily's eyes.

Joy rose in his chest like a wave.

Blake watched quietly.

[Ding! Ecstatic emotion detected!]

[Ding! Congratulations to the host for obtaining a Supreme Treasure Box!]

A radiant smile lit up Blake's face.

Finally. Six months of grinding… and it paid off.

He'd been prepared for a gold or diamond-level drop, maybe. But a Supreme Treasure Box?

Tonight, fate had smiled.

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