Agatha held the vase firmly, her calm expression betraying no emotion as it shattered in her grasp. Blake was taken aback by her strength—there was something about this witch that suggested she was formidable even without magic.
"Since you have a plan, follow it. I don't care," she said coolly. "I've recovered anyway. Crushing him sooner or later makes no difference."
Blake smirked. "Don't worry, it won't be long."
He handed two packages from Nagini to Agatha and Agnes. Each contained a fresh set of robes, a pouch of Galleons, and a wand. Agatha lifted her wand, feeling warmth surge through her fingers. "What a wand," she murmured, eyes gleaming. Agnes held hers with a similarly enthralled expression—how long had it been since they'd wielded magic?
While the sisters changed, Blake and Old Repp returned to the Longbottoms' compartment. Blake studied them closely.
"Do you know them?" Repp asked.
"Not personally, but I know of them," Blake replied, his tone solemn. "They fought Voldemort. After his fall, desperate Death Eaters tortured them with the Cruciatus Curse, hoping for information on their master's whereabouts. They survived but… they never recovered."
Repp sighed. "I'm too old for these stories. But at least you call him by his name. That's better than most."
Blake shrugged. "'Voldemort' is just a mask to hide his real name. If I saw him, I'd call him Tom."
Repp chuckled. "That's what I like about you. Never give the enemy what he wants—not even a title."
Blake examined the Longbottoms with his wand. "Restarting won't help them. Their souls are damaged. Their bodies healed long ago, but their minds remain trapped. Maybe I can replenish their souls... but I'll need to study it first."
It reminded Blake of a condition from his past life—psychosis caused by incomplete souls. The brain might be intact, but without a whole soul, consciousness remained lost. He needed to study Horcruxes. Voldemort's soul was fragmented, yet he remained lucid—why? His first Horcrux, the diary, might hold the key. Unlike Ravenclaw's diadem, which yielded only a bronze treasure chest, the diary had been truly valuable.
Just then, Agatha and Agnes emerged, now dressed in wizarding robes. Agnes hesitated. "Is it really okay to just leave?"
"You're not prisoners," Blake assured her. "You were patients. Now you're cured, no one can stop you. Just handle the discharge paperwork. Your healer will be thrilled."
Blake handed them another pouch of Galleons. "For medical expenses."
Agatha frowned. "Didn't you already give us money?"
"That's for resettlement. This is separate."
The sisters exchanged a glance, surprised at Blake's generosity. Old Repp puffed on his pipe. "Blake's a capable young man. This is nothing to him."
Blake simply waved off their thanks. "If you're one of us, no need to be polite."
While Nagini escorted Agatha and Agnes to handle their discharge, Blake and Repp approached another patient—Broderick Bode. A former Unspeakable from the Department of Mysteries, Bode had lost his mind. But Blake was interested in his potential.
"Old Repp, let's make a bet," Blake said, smirking.
"What?"
"I bet this guy was a genius before he went mad."
Repp eyed Bode, who squatted on a table. "Actually, I think he's still a genius… just unhinged."
Curing insanity caused by a curse was easy—just a small bottle of Blake's curse-breaking potion. Blake took out a strange device and aimed it at Bode.
"What are you doing?" Repp asked.
"Taking a picture of him as he is now. Once he's cured, I'll show him."
Blake smirked. "Hey, Teapot! Pour some tea!"
Repp paled. "I'm stepping outside before I get splashed."
[Ding! Extreme embarrassment detected!]
[Ding! Congratulations! You received a golden treasure chest!]
Blake observed Bode with a grin. Sure enough, the glow surrounding him shifted toward gold—a sign of untapped potential. He activated his Reality Sight.
Bode's aura confirmed it—he was valuable. Blake administered the potion, and within minutes, Bode's eyes cleared.
"I appreciate the cure… but if you delete that recording, I'll do anything for you," Bode said hesitantly.
[Ding! Follower detected. Include them in your ranks?]
Blake chuckled. "Can't do that. It's valuable research material."
"For what?"
"Understanding abnormal human behavior. St. Mungo's will love it."
Bode winced. "Alright, stop."
Seeing himself in his deranged state had nearly driven him mad again. Blake laughed. Bode, once an Unspeakable, would be a key assistant in future experiments.
Meanwhile, Healer Therese Pye stared at Blake, confused. "You're discharging them? But they need care."
"Not anymore. They're cured," Blake replied.
"Cured?" Pye echoed, stunned.
"Yes. By the way, the Longbottoms' case is complicated. I'll need to research a solution, but I work fast."
Pye gaped at him. A young man had just cured multiple long-term patients? At St. Mungo's, no less?
[Ding! Five silver chests received! One gold chest obtained!]
Blake was just as surprised. Most people doubted him, but Pye believed him instantly. Odd.
"I… I need to consult with our Head Healer," she stammered before running off.
Back in his office, Dean Bohan slumped in his chair, emotions swirling. As the head of St. Mungo's, he should have been thrilled that patients had recovered. But knowing a young man had done what generations of healers could not—it was humbling.
He turned to the portrait of Mungo Bohan, the hospital's founder, for guidance.
"Idiot!" the portrait barked. "You should be asking how he did it! If he's discovered a new treatment method, it's revolutionary! If I were you, I'd be begging him to work at St. Mungo's! Offer him whatever he wants! This could change wizarding medicine!"
Dean Bohan blinked. "You're right! I lost sight of St. Mungo's purpose!"
He bolted from the office, racing toward the first floor.
But Blake was already gone.
Frustrated, Bohan halted—until an idea struck him. He turned and ran back toward his office, determined to track down the young healer who had changed everything.
=============
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