Lovegood has a daughter?

Blake sighed helplessly. "Hey! You're older than me. Can you stop crying all the time?"

Cedric only looked more miserable, as if he'd lost his chance to find a partner at Hogwarts for years to come.

"You're overthinking this," Blake continued. "So what if you scolded two girls? It's not a big deal."

"There will be other girls! Just act a little better next time."

"If you do, no one will believe whatever bad things they say about you anyway."

"And come on, as a high-quality human male, you should have confidence! You're the second most handsome guy after me!"

"You just need the courage to say, 'Bye-bye, the next one will be better!'"

Cedric wiped his tears and stood up, his face now full of fighting spirit. Of course, it was all Blake's deception.

Just as Blake was about to sit down, sip his milk tea, and continue discussing massage techniques with Nagini, a soft voice spoke behind him.

"Oh… The Great Love Sage really has experience. And here I thought you knew nothing about this."

Blake turned stiffly.

Hermione and Cassandra stood there, arms crossed, eyebrows furrowed.

"Bah! Scumbag!"

Their disgusted expressions sent a strange thrill through Blake. He wasn't sure why, but for some reason, he felt a little excited.

The day after the second issue of The Quibbler was released, Blake went to find Lockhart.

"You've heard about the raps about being a naysayer, right?"

Lockhart nodded, his face dark. The Daily Prophet had once again targeted him.

Rita Skeeter had published another article slandering him. Worse, a direct comparison had been made between the release of The Quibbler and Lockhart's book signings.

It was humiliating.

The moving photos in the newspapers didn't lie. Blake's magazine had drawn much larger crowds than Lockhart's signings ever had.

Lockhart was jealous.

He had spent years crafting his reputation, stealing others' achievements, twisting their stories into his own. He had even left some people with enough dirt on him to threaten his career.

But even after all his efforts… he was still losing.

Blake had managed to accomplish in just seven days what Lockhart had struggled for years to achieve.

Lockhart clenched his fists.

"I heard..." he muttered.

"You should start preparing now," Blake interrupted.

"I'm planning to run your defense piece in the next issue of The Quibbler."

"Most of The Quibbler's readers are witches. They'll see it."

Lockhart's eyes lit up.

At last—a chance to fight back.

Until now, Rita had been landing one-sided attacks. He hadn't even had an opportunity to respond.

But now… now, he could finally hit back.

Lockhart rushed to his desk, grabbed his quill and parchment, and started writing furiously.

As Blake turned to leave, he didn't notice Lockhart's eyes burning with jealousy.

No platform had been willing to publish Lockhart's side of the story. But Blake? He had created a platform.

In just a week, he had turned a joke of a magazine into something that could challenge The Daily Prophet.

"If only I had Blake's abilities…"

Lockhart's grip on his quill tightened until the nib tore through the parchment.

With The Quibbler now publishing every three days, the magazine had become a staple in the wizarding world.

Mr. Lovegood, however, knew the truth—most readers weren't buying the magazine for his articles on magical creatures or bizarre conspiracy theories.

But he didn't care.

His articles were there, in print, every issue. And as long as The Quibbler flourished, he was happy.

Tears welled up in his eyes as he whispered, "I finally have the money to buy Luna a nice dress..."

Sales exploded, especially once Lockhart began using the magazine as his battleground against The Daily Prophet and Rita Skeeter.

Lockhart may have been controversial, but he had a loyal following. His "mom fans" adored him, and the wizarding public—like any other—loved drama.

His sharp, biting counterattacks against Rita and the Daily Prophet were thrilling to read. Even those who didn't particularly like Lockhart found themselves buying multiple copies just to keep up with the spectacle.

Lovegood, following Blake's advice, used the money wisely.

He moved The Quibbler's operations out of his home and into a proper office.

He bought new printing presses, faster and more efficient than before.

However, when he suggested hiring more staff, Blake stopped him.

"Plagiarizing stories isn't exactly honorable," Blake pointed out.

"Right now, we're a small team, and that's fine. But the more people we bring in, the bigger the risk."

"If word gets out about what we're doing, others will copy us."

"Of course, they'll figure it out eventually. But by then, we'll already be the leader in the industry."

Lovegood broke into a cold sweat.

He turned to the three workers they already had and asked, "You won't spill anything, right?"

The three of them quickly shook their heads.

"They won't talk," Blake assured him.

These three had been completely won over by Blake's charm and persuasion. They saw him as their leader now, bound by an unspoken loyalty.

"But we still need someone to do the grunt work," Lovegood admitted. "We're drowning in tasks—writing, proofreading, printing—it's too much!"

Blake grinned. "I know just the guy."

With a flick of his hand, he pulled a house-elf from the dimensional door.

"Dobby, meet your new job!"

"Dobby will work hard for the magazine!" the elf squeaked excitedly.

After being freed, Dobby had struggled to find employment—most wizards didn't want a house-elf who expected to be paid.

So, Blake had offered him a job.

Lovegood and the other workers had no objections. They assumed Dobby was Blake's personal elf, and since Blake was paying him, no one questioned it.

Across the world, in a dimly lit room, Vita Rohir tossed a copy of The Quibbler onto Grindelwald's dining table.

The old wizard paused mid-bite, glancing at the magazine.

"This magazine is backing Lockhart," Vita explained. "Since Rita hasn't yet dropped her 'big bombshell,' Lockhart actually has the upper hand in this debate."

SMACK!

Grindelwald slammed his hand against the table, nearly toppling his plate.

"Who dares challenge us?!"

Vita smirked. "It appears that Blake is behind The Quibbler."

Grindelwald's anger faded. He slowly picked up his steak and placed it back on his plate.

"Oh… him. That explains everything."

"This magazine was garbage before, and now, in just a week, it's thriving."

Vita casually flipped through the pages.

"Even I feel like subscribing."

"This kid… Blake is truly something else," Grindelwald mused.

"For someone so young to have such ability… He really is remarkable."

"He would make an excellent successor to your work," Vita remarked.

Grindelwald scowled. "I told you, I won't force him into anything. Don't bring this up again."

"As you wish," Vita said, though she didn't seem convinced.

Grindelwald flipped through The Quibbler, pausing at the editor's name.

"Xenophilius Lovegood?" He looked up at Vita.

"Does he have a daughter?"

Vita nodded. "Yes, Luna Lovegood. First-year at Hogwarts this year."

Grindelwald chuckled knowingly.

"Ah… That explains it. This brat… Hehehe…"

Vita sighed.

If only you had been like Blake back then…

Grindelwald shot her a curious glance.

"What's with you?"

"Nothing," she replied.

Grindelwald shrugged, then ordered, "Tell the Daily Prophet to keep the debate fair. No dirty tricks against The Quibbler."

Vita nodded and left, The Quibbler in hand, her expression unreadable.

Grindelwald watched her go, muttering, "Baffling woman…"

=============

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