Snape had indeed wanted to try. But… he failed.
Other than Blake, no one seemed able to use magic like a wishing machine. Snape's desire was strong, but doubt clouded his mind. So when he attempted it quietly, nothing happened.
Naturally, he couldn't show weakness.
"Business comes first. Who has time for magic tricks?" he muttered, recovering his usual aloofness.
He couldn't let Blake know he had failed.
"Agatha, could you help tie up these guys?" Blake asked, not pushing Snape any further.
"Happy to." Agatha turned and used a levitating spell to start moving the unconscious bodies.
Blake gestured to a nearby tent. "Severus, come with me? You're a potions master—if anyone's injured, your little bottles might come in handy."
Snape instantly shielded his cloak. "Wait… how did you know there were hostages in that tent? And more importantly, how did you know I brought healing potions? Can you see through my cloak?"
Blake chuckled. "X-ray vision! Can't even look at you, mate."
Then, more seriously, "It was a guess. You're a potion master facing a potential fight. Of course you'd bring healing draughts. I'm betting you've got antidotes and curse removers too."
Blake's explanation was reasonable, but Snape wasn't convinced.
"You still haven't answered how you knew there were people inside."
Blake tapped his ear. "Didn't you hear the moaning?"
"There were groans, yes," Snape replied skeptically. "But those could be injured dark wizards. Nothing unusual there."
"Well... you're not wrong," Blake admitted. No need to mention his real ability—his enhanced observation or the passive detection through his special "hearing."
He pulled a large suitcase from his pocket.
"Fine, if you won't go in, let Erha scout it."
He opened the suitcase. A majestic husky with glossy fur leapt out, giving Blake a look that practically said, "Really?"
"Go on. Check for traps."
Erha gave a lazy bark and trotted toward the tent.
Blake used the moment to pull out his sniffer.
"Dabao, treasure hunt time. Gold Galleons. Find them, and there's plenty in it for you!"
Dabao perked up instantly, yipped, then sniffed the air and started his search with eager determination.
A Bowtruckle peeked from the suitcase's opening.
Blake waved. "You too. If Dabao runs into a locked box, help him out."
The Bowtruckle saluted smartly and followed after.
Snape watched the creature and felt a twinge of longing. But he knew he couldn't match Blake's strange animal-taming skills.
"I didn't expect to act so soon," Blake said regretfully. "Bet that last camp had a lot of gold hidden…"
He sighed, thinking about the destruction. His flames had turned everything—even stones—to ash. No way any treasure survived that.
"Owwww!"
Erha's head poked out from the tent. Safe.
Blake smiled and entered.
The tent was simple—just one large iron cage inside. More than a dozen ragged prisoners were crammed in, looking exhausted but hopeful after hearing the battle outside.
Some lay on the ground, clearly too weak to stand, but their eyes were filled with the same desperate anticipation.
Blake took a breath, masking his voice to sound neutral and unidentifiable. "We're bounty hunters. The dark wizards are down. You're free now."
Cheers erupted.
Snape, still under his cloak, flinched at Blake's next words: "Let's go, old bat. Pick the lock."
Snape twitched but held back—better that than Blake using his real name.
A wave of his wand, and—click—the cage opened.
The prisoners surged out, thanking them profusely.
"Please," one begged. "One of us is seriously injured…"
Snape was already pulling potions from his cloak, treating the wounded without a word.
Agatha entered just then, having finished securing the enemies. She'd even reinforced it with a bit of physical stunning—just to be sure.
"Agatha, can you take these people to search the camp for food? They look starved."
The mention of food sent them scrambling out behind her.
Snape stood and reported clinically, "Minor malnutrition and aftereffects of the Cruciatus. I've administered nutrition and cleansing potions."
Blake watched the previously downed victims rise to their feet and thank Snape.
Once they'd eaten, Blake began herding them out. "Alright, take some food and get out of here."
One plump man paused at the exit. "They attacked our ship, tortured us for ransom… Even after our families paid, they didn't release us."
Blake's eyes widened. Yachts? Wealthy wizards?
So… rich hostages.
He smirked quietly. Maybe he should buy a yacht—throw a party with all the girls… a very serious party, of course. With swimsuits.
"Ahem."
The fat man continued, "We've discussed it. Since you saved us, we'd like you to keep the ransom money. It's in the camp."
Blake nodded solemnly, but behind his Phantom Cloak, he was grinning like a maniac.
Money for a yacht—secured!
Dabao quickly found the stash. The Galleons were hidden in a magically sealed basement.
The lock was warded with complex magic—completely immune to spells. But not to keys. And not to a Bowtruckle.
Between Dabao and the Bowtruckle, no treasure could stay hidden.
Inside, Blake took inventory. One hundred thousand Galleons in ransom gold, plus an additional twenty thousand or more in assorted coins.
As Blake stuffed gold into his suitcase, he felt Snape's eyes on his back like twin hexes.
Turning slowly, Blake met Snape's cold stare.
"You know the rule," Snape said flatly. "Everyone who sees it gets a share."
"Oh, Severus! Of course! When have I ever stiffed you?"
Blake smiled while shoving another pouch into his pocket.
Snape said nothing, just kept watching.
There it is, Blake thought. The "but."
Sure enough, Blake went on: "...But, I've been funding your experiments, remember?"
"You only gave me half a strand of Lily's hair. That's it. The rest? All on me."
He raised his voice dramatically. "More than half a year of intense work, all out of my own pocket!"
Snape stayed quiet. Blake was… not wrong.
"You owe me material costs. Thousands of Galleons. You know how much potion ingredients cost!"
Snape winced. He did know. Still, he asked, "So how much do you want for the work?"
Blake held up a finger. "For the sake of our teacher-student bond, I'll give you a discount."
Snape sighed. "A thousand Galleons?"
Blake looked offended. "A thousand?! I've been busting my wand for half a year and you offer me that? I'm not a house-elf!"
He continued, impassioned: "I've been juggling your endless potion essays, keeping up with class, and conducting advanced experiments. I've worked harder than the Hogwarts house elves!"
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