Why Waste Time

Ginny's gratitude warmed the air as she thanked Blake earnestly.

"You don't need to thank me, Ginny," Blake replied, his tone light. "Even if I hadn't written that letter, your father wouldn't have been sent to Azkaban. At worst, he'd face a fine. The modifications he made to the car weren't technically illegal."

Ginny blinked in surprise. "How do you know that?"

Blake shrugged, taking a bite of his puff. "Because I looked into it. I planned to do something similar ages ago and researched the regulations. That's when I noticed the legislation is full of loopholes. It's as if the ones who wrote them wanted those loopholes there." He glanced at Ginny knowingly. "The person who created those laws? Your honey—well, the Ministry of Magic. Your dad's safe; I bet he's prepared for situations like this."

Blake's confident words eased Ginny's nerves. Ever since her mother's letter mentioned Mr. Weasley's review, worry had gnawed at her. What if her father, the family's provider, ended up in Azkaban? What would become of her mother? Ginny had even begun to resent Ron and Harry for their reckless decision to fly the car to school. Though she admired Harry deeply, this incident made her question his judgment.

"Thank you, Blake," Ginny murmured, her voice tinged with emotion. "I was so scared…"

"Don't worry," Blake said reassuringly. "This will blow over soon. Even in cases of gross misconduct, the Ministry's punishments are rarely severe. Your dad's tinkering with gadgets is small potatoes."

Ginny nodded, finally able to smile. There was something undeniably calming about Blake's words.

"Would you like a puff?" Blake asked, holding out the tray. "A bit of dessert might lift your spirits. It's your first day at Hogwarts, Ginny. You should be enjoying it."

Ginny shook her head gently. "No, thank you. I need to write to Mum and tell her what you've explained. She's worried sick." She turned to leave, pausing briefly. "Thank you again, Blake."

As she walked away, Cedric chuckled, twirling his fork. "Now I get why girls are so drawn to you."

"You're only figuring that out now?" Blake grinned.

Cedric rolled his eyes. "It's that silver tongue of yours. Even I think you're a great guy, you insufferable…"

"Watch it," Blake teased, feigning indignation. "Admit it, Cedric, I'm more popular because I'm better looking."

"Never," Cedric retorted.

Their banter carried on until it was time for Herbology class.

The students gathered at Greenhouse Three, where Professor Sprout's enthusiasm was palpable. The earthy scent of damp soil and blooming plants filled the air. Thanks to Blake's help with the Whomping Willow the previous night, she looked well-rested. Her mood, however, soured slightly when Lockhart arrived, donning a flamboyant blue robe and a green top hat with gold trim.

"Good morning!" Lockhart exclaimed, his voice unnervingly cheery. "I've just been helping Professor Sprout examine the Whomping Willow. It's in perfect health now, thanks to my… guidance."

Professor Sprout shot him a pointed look but refrained from calling out his embellishment. She turned to unlock the greenhouse door, leaving Lockhart to ramble.

Blake, catching Lockhart's eye, smirked knowingly. The pompous professor faltered, quickly changing the subject.

Inside the greenhouse, rows of deep-bottomed pots sat on tables, each housing young mandrakes. Professor Sprout stood before a table lined with earmuffs of varying colors.

"Today, we're repotting mandrakes," she announced. "Who can tell me their properties?"

Hermione's hand shot up. Blake, to everyone's surprise, remained silent, seemingly lost in thought.

"Mandrakes," Hermione recited, "are powerful restoratives. They can return cursed or transfigured individuals to their original state."

"Correct, ten points to Gryffindor," said Professor Sprout. "But they're also dangerous. Can anyone explain why?"

Hermione's hand rose again, though she hesitated when she noticed Blake's unusual lack of participation.

"Their cry can kill," Hermione said.

"Exactly, extra points," Professor Sprout confirmed. Her gaze lingered on Blake, disappointment flickering in her eyes.

Addressing the class, she gestured to the pots. "These mandrakes are young and their cries won't kill yet, but they can knock you unconscious. Everyone, grab a set of earmuffs."

The students hurried forward. No one wanted the fluffy pink earmuffs, but they were the last pair left when Blake finally joined the group.

"Mr. Green?" Professor Sprout called.

Hermione nudged Blake, breaking his reverie. He blinked and stepped forward, donning the pink earmuffs without hesitation.

"Are you feeling all right?" Professor Sprout asked.

Blake nodded. "I'm fine, Professor. Actually, I have a question about mandrakes."

"Go on."

"Mandrakes are used in restorative potions for reversing curses, but they aren't included in healing potions. Why?"

Professor Sprout smiled. "Mandrakes restore original states, but they don't heal physical injuries. Including them in healing potions could destabilize the potion's effects."

Blake's eyes narrowed thoughtfully. "What if a healing potion incorporated mandrake in a way that didn't interfere with its other properties? Could it regenerate cursed, severed limbs?"

The greenhouse fell silent. Professor Sprout's expression turned contemplative.

"It's an intriguing idea," she admitted. "But creating such a potion would require extensive research and experimentation. It's not something I could guide you through. Perhaps Professor Snape could provide insight."

Blake nodded slowly, his mind already racing.

Professor Sprout's voice softened. "If you manage to develop such a potion, Blake, it would be revolutionary. You might even earn the Order of Merlin."

The class resumed. Working in groups of four, the students began repotting the mandrakes. The plants, resembling writhing, ugly infants, resisted fiercely. Hermione managed to pull one free but struggled to subdue it. Blake stepped in, calmly patting the mandrake's back until it stilled.

"How did you do that?" Hermione asked, astonished.

Blake smirked. "Trade secret."

His efficiency earned Hufflepuff twenty points. By the end of class, the students were sweaty and covered in dirt. Hermione glanced at her watch, frowning. There wasn't enough time to shower before Transfiguration.

"You could just use magic," Blake suggested, tapping her shoulder. Instantly, her clothes were clean and dry. Hermione turned to him, surprised. Blake, spotless as always, simply grinned.

"Why waste time when you've got spells?"

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