The rest of the year passed by relatively uneventfully. McGonagall evidently had contacted Dumbledore and sorted things out, because by the first week of February, Dumbledore and Hagrid had been reinstated, with the former giving a speech explaining that Chamber had been closed, the monster had been killed, and the Heir had been apprehended. The speech was met with voracious enthusiasm from the majority of the school - even the Slytherins, who themselves had become slightly worried the Heir made accidentally attack them too. Greengrass had been adamant that Blake explain everything to her, which he had, while Zabini and Tracey continued on their rounds around the castle.
"Are they dating now?" Blake asked Greengrass.
"No."
"Are you sure?"
"No."
"How useful."
"Shut up, Renshaw."
/
For the first time in a long time, Blake opened his letters. They were piling up, and now that the Heir had been dealt with, he could finally answer his mother's letters in peace (somewhat).
Blake,
What the hell is going on? Why haven't you or Connor responded to my letters? I'm sitting here, home alone, worrying about both of you! Answer my letters immediately, and get Connor to do the same! Both of you are 100% coming home for Easter now! You promised to write back as soon as possible, and you've clearly not kept that promise!
I love you both.
Love,
Mum
Blake sighed. Sh*t. The Mandrake Drought will only be ready at the end of May. It's February right now. What am I going to do?
As he ruminated on his dilemma on the way to Charms, someone stopped him.
"Blake!" Neville called from behind him.
"Neville," Blake greeted him. "How are you doing?"
"I'm good, I'm good - you must be glad to hear about the Heir, huh? Connor's going to be perfectly fine, just like I told you!"
Blake laughed. "Yeah, yeah, I know. I am very glad, to be honest. I can finally walk around without having to look over my shoulder every 2 seconds."
"Yeah," Neville nodded sympathetically. "Poor Connor. I haven't known him for that long, but he's always so nice to me."
Blake nodded. "I know, mate. Anyway, I've got to get to Charms - I'll see you on Saturday for Herbology and Defence, right?"
"Yeah, see you!"
As Blake continued on his journey, he was stopped by another person.
"I still haven't forgiven you, y'know," Greengrass said, walking beside him.
"Get it a rest, Greengrass," he said, rolling his eyes. "Dumbledore's probably destroyed the diary by now."
"No one said you could risk my name! What if he'd actually returned?"
"He wouldn't have," Blake replied dismissively. "And besides, I've risked my life for your stuff too!"
"I paid you!"
"I still didn't have to! Dumbledore's probably going to ask me where the Basilisk's fangs went."
"Tell him they're up his arse."
Blake gasped at her.
"Did you, Daphne Greengrass, just say a bad word?"
"Shut up," she said, and again, Blake could've sworn he saw her cheeks redden just a bit.
"Besides," he continued, trying (for some reason) to save her from embarrassment.
"I know what you're trying to do."
Greengrass immediately sobered up and stared at him.
"What do you mean?"
"Well, you wanted the Elixir of Life - fair enough, probably to prolong life, or for research? But then Baskisk venom too? And you already had researched unicorn blood last year - but you didn't want that. And you're obsessed with Potions. Even Snape's genuinely impressed with you, to the point where he only admits you're his favourite, even ahead of Malfoy."
"Where are you going with this?"
"Did you know, Greengrass, what Muggles use snake venom for?"
She didn't respond.
"You do, don't you? I'd bet 50 Galleons that's where you got the idea from, except you're using Basilisk venom because the ailment or disease must be magical. So, you have an intense knowledge of Potions. You've been researching life extension substances, and ruled out those which are also harmful. And you want Basilisk venom, presumably to destroy or attack something magical, and the Elixir of Life would prevent you from dying. Mix Basilisk venom and the Elixir of Life, add a couple other things, and in theory, you could create something to heal a magical disease - probably a curse?"
Greengrass's face stayed carefully neutral, but it didn't matter. Blake could tell.
"You don't seem sick. Obviously it might not show, but for something where you're risking using Basilisk venom, I think it would. So, it's either your parents, Tracey or someone else. Tracey's fine, and your father regularly attends Wizengamot, so it's not him. And finally, your mother, I'm told, recently won the Merlin Potions Prize - couldn't have done that if she was ill. I'm not aware of any direct cousins you're close to. That leaves one person - you have a little sibling, and they're ill. Probably some type of magic - a curse, if I'd have to guess. Am I right?"
Finally, Greengrass's face betrayed some emotion as she laughed hollowly.
"Impressive deductions, Renshaw," she said finally. "I suppose there's no point in hiding it now. Yes, my little sister is cursed - a blood curse, to be exact. It's run in my family for generations, and no one's found a curse yet."
Blake bowed his head.
"I'm sorry to hear that, Greengrass. I… I'm assuming the curse is fast acting?"
Both of them knew what the true meaning of his question was. How long does she have?
"The longest anyone's survived the curse is up to 17. It's said that once you reach peak magical maturity, which is on your 17th birthday, the curse becomes unbearable. But the average lifespan is 15 years."
Blake didn't know what to say.
"I see. What's her name?"
"Astoria." Greengrass's voice choked for a moment, and Blake found himself feeling terrible for even asking - but then he came up with a good distraction.
"Actually, Greengrass, I was hoping to talk to you about something related to this anyway."
The girl turned to him, looking guarded.
"What is it?"
"Don't you think that we always end up doing each other favours and making deals, one way or another?"
"So?"
Blake smirked.
"I think we should be business partners."
Greengrass looked surprised for a second, before laughing.
"And why would I need to do business with you?"
He shrugged.
"Obviously you don't need to - you're rich as it is. But isn't it your responsibility as the Heir of your House to grow your wealth and influence? You already know I've got business experience, spell making experience, Transfiguration expertise, and now I'm better than you at Charms too-"
"We're equal!" she interrupted.
"Sure, sure," he smirked. "Anyway, you're only better than me at Herbology and Potions-"
"Miles better."
"-but I'm still good at them too. Together, we could definitely shift the market."
"And what ideas do you have for that?" Greengrass asked challengingly. "What could a muggleborn possibly know about the wizarding society market?"
Blake smirked even wider.
"Oh, please, Greengrass, you already know that argument is silly against me. But I'll humour you anyway. Firstly, combat spells and potions. We could come up with offensive or defensive spells, teach them solely in textbooks, and profit off them under a pseudonym, and sell Potions to the Aurors. There's not many government contracts in magical society, are there? That's an easy gap in the market we can exploit. Then there's the obvious healthcare stuff - we could create better potions and spells than what's already available using the funds from the combat spells. And after we monopolise those sectors, the possibilities are endless."
"And we would be in control of much of the combat and health forces of Britain," Greengrass smirked. "I'm shocked, Renshaw. Who would've thought you would try to take control of magical society?"
"I'm not," he replied smoothly. "But, given recent events, you can't blame me for wanting to ensure the safety of myself and the people I care for."
Greengrass looked at him for a second.
"I'll think about it."
"Of course," Blake grinned widely. "I'm just getting sick of making Unbreakable Vows all the time. Let me know what you decide."
The pair made their way to their seats in Flitwick's class and sat down.
"And Greengrass?"
"Hm?"
"Just so y'know, regardless if you agree or not, you have my word - if you need help with anything for your sister, you can ask me. I'll do what I can."
The girl paused for a second, as if hesitating, before ducking her head.
"That's not very Slytherin of you."
Blake laughed.
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