HP: Bad Intentions

"I am so poor that only money is left." Grindelwald paused for a moment, the statement hanging between them like an unspoken truth.

Blake, sitting across from him, raised an eyebrow, sensing that there was more to this statement than simple self-pity. It wasn't just a pretentious remark.

There was depth behind it, a sadness perhaps, and maybe even a hint of regret. Blake knew Grindelwald's story, or at least parts of it. The old man had spent years in prison, locked away from the world he once tried to dominate. And now, after so much time, all that remained were the cold, unfeeling Galleons.

"It's true, isn't it?" Grindelwald continued, his voice softer now. "Family, love, hope, ideals... all of it, gone. All that's left are the icy Galleons, and they bring no warmth."

Blake leaned back in his chair, waving his hand dismissively as if to shake off the sombre mood. "Well, if it's money you're worried about, maybe I can help you reconcile with Dumbledore. That'd be worth a few Galleons, right?"

Grindelwald's mouth twitched at the mention of Dumbledore, his expression darkening. "Reconcile? With that old fool? What for? Waste of time." His voice was sharp, filled with an undercurrent of bitterness.

"You'd be better off putting your energy where it matters."

Blake smirked, spreading his hands in mock innocence. "I'm just saying, I want your Galleons, so I've got to offer you something in return. It's only fair, right?"

Despite himself, Grindelwald felt a warmth in his chest. Blake, for all his teasing, understood him in ways few others did. They shared a bond, albeit an unconventional one.

Blake's playful grin faded slightly as he leaned in, adopting a more serious tone. "Since you don't want love, maybe you can use other things—"

Grindelwald's face turned dark immediately. His eyes flared with anger, and he cut Blake off sharply. "What did Dumbledore tell you? What love? What love could there possibly be between me and that old man?"

Blake blinked, taken aback by Grindelwald's sudden outburst. "Whoa, hold on. What? I didn't say you and Dumbledore were in love—"

Grindelwald's scowl deepened, though a faint blush crept onto his old, wrinkled face. "Then what did you mean, exactly?"

Blake, clearly confused, scratched the back of his head. "I just said you don't seem to be interested in love. I figured you're more focused on friendship or something. I wasn't suggesting anything romantic!"

For a moment, there was an awkward silence between them, punctuated only by the sound of Grindelwald's breathing as he struggled to regain his composure.

His face, already weathered with age, had turned a deeper shade of red. As he aged, it seemed his skin had grown thinner in more ways than one.

"Hmph," Grindelwald grumbled, his voice quieter now. "Don't go assuming things you know nothing about."

Blake, ever the opportunist, seized the chance to lighten the mood. "Alright, alright. So, twenty thousand Galleons, yeah?"

Grindelwald's expression softened just a bit, grateful for the change in topic. "Twenty thousand. Deal."

Blake smiled, leaning back in his chair as he took a sip of his tea. The tension that had filled the room moments ago slowly ebbed away, leaving a more comfortable silence between them. They had moved past the awkwardness, for now.

After a few moments of quiet contemplation, Grindelwald broke the silence again. "You know, Nurmengard's School of Magic has been officially established. Classes start on September 1st. The faculty, the library... they're unmatched, even by Hogwarts."

Blake raised an eyebrow, intrigued but not entirely convinced. "You really think Nurmengard's library is better than Hogwarts'? Hogwarts has been around for over a thousand years. That's a lot of knowledge stored up."

Grindelwald's eyes gleamed with pride. "Of course. Your precious Hogwarts may have history, but it's always been held back by those fools at the Ministry of Magic. They hide the real knowledge. They fear it. As if learning one more explosive spell would cause students to rebel."

Blake tilted his head, considering Grindelwald's words. "You've got a point. Some of the more dangerous spells are locked away in the Restricted Section. They don't even let students access them without special permission."

Grindelwald's grin widened. "Exactly. But in Nurmengard, there is no Restricted Section. Students are free to explore any magic they wish."

Blake couldn't help but compare the two schools in his mind. Hogwarts was like a place where students were protected from danger, almost to the point of being coddled.

Nurmengard, on the other hand, seemed like a school where students were pushed to their limits and encouraged to explore even the darkest forms of magic. The comparison brought to mind the difference between a society that bans guns and one that teaches you how to build them.

"A school like that..." Blake mused aloud, "I imagine the students would be... formidable, to say the least."

Grindelwald nodded his chest swelling with pride. "Exactly. Nurmengard will produce wizards and witches far more powerful than anything Hogwarts could dream of."

Blake couldn't help but chuckle. "Yeah, I think I'll stick with Hogwarts. I like it there."

Grindelwald sighed, his disappointment evident. He had hoped to sway Blake, but deep down, he knew it was a long shot. "Dumbledore wouldn't have let you transfer anyway."

Blake smirked, taking another sip of his tea. "Probably not."

Grindelwald leaned back in his chair, looking Blake up and down thoughtfully. "Speaking of Dumbledore... I heard you were involved in something big recently. Care to share?"

Blake raised an eyebrow, knowing exactly what Grindelwald was referring to. The incident with the Philosopher's Stone had been the talk of the school for weeks.

Although it was meant to be a secret, Dumbledore had allowed certain details to slip, and now nearly everyone at Hogwarts knew that Blake and Harry had played a major role in stopping Professor Quirrell from stealing the Stone.

Blake leaned forward, recounting the story in detail. He explained how Quirrell had been possessed by Voldemort and how they had managed to stop him before he could get his hands on the Stone. Grindelwald listened intently, his eyes narrowing with interest as the story unfolded.

When Blake finished, there was a long pause as Grindelwald processed the information. He sat back in his chair, his eyes distant as he thought deeply.

"A Horcrux..." he muttered to himself. "Voldemort must have made a Horcrux."

Blake nodded. "That's what Dumbledore thinks, too."

Grindelwald's gaze shifted to Blake, his expression thoughtful. "And Dumbledore taught you Dark Arts, did he?"

Blake shrugged. "Yeah, he taught me everything. Even gave me his old notes."

Grindelwald's eyes flickered with recognition as Blake pulled out a small, worn booklet. It was filled with the same notes that Grindelwald and Dumbledore had once written together, back when they were young and full of ideals. Seeing the booklet again stirred something inside Grindelwald—nostalgia, perhaps, or something more complicated.

"Times have changed," Grindelwald murmured, his voice tinged with regret.

Then, as if realizing something, Grindelwald's eyes widened. "Wait a minute! Wasn't I the one who was supposed to teach you Dark Arts? Dumbledore warned me against it! He said it was too dangerous for you at your age. And now, he's the one teaching you?"

Blake chuckled. "Yeah, funny how things turn out."

Grindelwald's frustration bubbled to the surface. "That old fool! He didn't even keep the Philosopher's Stone for you? Didn't even think about your future? And now he's letting you go undercover, risking your life? What is he thinking?!"

Blake, sensing Grindelwald's rising anger, tried to calm him down. "It's not that bad—"

Grindelwald slammed his fist on the table. "No! I won't stand for this. You deserve better than this. I'm expanding Nurmengard's enrollment. We'll recruit from the UK, too. I'll compete with Hogwarts for students, and we'll see who comes out on top!"

Blake left Nurmengard with a heavy bag of 30,000 Galleons—20,000 in hush money for their awkward conversation about Dumbledore and another 10,000 as a gift from Grindelwald. As Blake walked through the gates of Nurmengard, he couldn't help but smile. It wasn't every day that someone handed him free money.

Back at Hogwarts, Blake headed straight for the Room of Requirement. His Felix Felicis potion (luck potion) was nearly ready, and the anticipation of having such a valuable potion at his disposal filled him with excitement. After checking on the potion, he left the Room of Requirement and made his way to the Great Hall, where his convenience store was doing its final sales before the summer break.

Nagini, ever diligent, was busy stocking shelves as Blake entered. He greeted her with a grin. "How's it going?"

Nagini glanced up, her snake-like eyes glinting in the dim light of the Great Hall. "We're nearly sold out. Just a few more items to go."

Blake helped her with the rest of the work, their rhythm steady as they worked in silence. After a while, Blake broke the quiet, his tone casual.

"So, where are you going for vacation?"

Nagini paused, her hands hesitating over a stack of parchment. "Vacation?" she asked, confused. "I was planning to stay here and take care of the shop."

Blake frowned. "But the students will be gone for the summer. There won't be any customers."

Nagini nodded slowly, realizing he was right. "Then I suppose I'll stay in the staff dormitories."

Blake chuckled, shaking his head. "That's no fun. Why don't you come home with me? You don't have to stay here alone."

Nagini looked at him in surprise, her eyes wide with disbelief. "Come home with you? But I'm just... an outsider."

Blake's smile softened, and he placed a hand on her shoulder. "You're not an outsider, Nagini. You've been like family to me since the day I found you in that forest. Come with me. You're part of my family now."

Nagini's eyes shimmered with something like hope, her voice barely a whisper. "Family?" The word felt foreign, almost too good to be true.

"Yeah," Blake said, his grin widening. "Family."

For the first time in a long while, Nagini allowed herself to believe in the possibility of belonging.

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