"Where is our next destination?" Old Rip asked, his voice steady but filled with curiosity.
Blake knew that his mission involved tracking down wizards who, like Rip, had been exploited by Gilderoy Lockhart. At the moment, there were no other wizards in their group, which meant Rip was the first person he had managed to rescue.
"Our next stop is Bandon... Let me see... It appears to be in Ireland." Blake responded, pulling out one of Lockhart's books and flipping through it. The title, barely visible to Rip, read Breaking with the Female Ghost.
"So... that fool wrote down all the evidence and clues in his books?" Rip muttered, wrinkling his aged face in disapproval.
Blake nodded, confirming Rip's suspicion.
"It's truly unacceptable that I was once deceived by such an idiot," Rip grumbled. Thanks to Blake's potion, his body had almost completely recovered. His posture, once hunched, was now straightened, making Blake realize just how tall he actually was.
"So... how do we get to Bandon? Ireland is quite a journey from here," Rip mused, still wondering how Blake had managed to travel all the way to Armenia from England. And now, they needed to go all the way back to Ireland. Walking was certainly not an option.
"Of course, there's a way. A very good way," Blake said, a mischievous glint in his eyes.
"And what way is that?" Rip pressed, intrigued.
Before Blake could respond, a faint blue light flashed in front of them. A majestic creature appeared, its icy feathers shimmering in the light. The Ice Crystal Phoenix, Qingnu, had arrived. She held a letter delicately in her beak, tilting her head as she regarded the cold and skeptical Rip.
Then, gracefully, she handed the letter to Blake.
"Oh my! An Ice Crystal Phoenix! To be honest, this is far more stunning than Albus's Fire Phoenix," Rip exclaimed in genuine admiration.
"Tweet! (Old man, you have a good eye!)" Qingnu chirped proudly, clearly pleased with the compliment.
Blake finished reading the letter and sighed. "It seems we don't need to go to Bandon after all."
"Oh? Is the protagonist of that book no longer there? Or... has something worse happened?" Rip's mind immediately jumped to the worst-case scenario. He himself had nearly perished from starvation and cold. It was entirely possible that others had not been as fortunate.
"No, nothing like that," Blake reassured him. "Professor Dumbledore sent her to St. Mungo's a long time ago."
"There's another one with her. They're both currently in the Curse Injury Department on the fifth floor of St. Mungo's. They reside in a permanent ward there."
Blake pulled out yet another of Lockhart's books, Holidays with a Dominatrix. He tapped the cover thoughtfully. "It seems the protagonist of this book is also there."
Rip nodded, exhaling a puff of smoke from his pipe. "Then they'll both be on the way. But tell me, why didn't Dumbledore inform you of this when you left?"
Blake crossed his arms and huffed. "That's what I'd like to know."
Rip chuckled. "That just means you don't understand Albus. He's a man who always adheres to certain rules."
Blake rolled his eyes. "More like he just enjoys watching people figure things out the hard way."
Rip smirked. "Well, if my guess is correct, you only need to introduce yourself at St. Mungo's, and they'll take you straight to those two."
"Alright then," Blake said, pocketing the book. Nearby, Nagini had already finished folding the entire tent, neatly storing it into a backpack charmed with a Seamless Extension Spell.
"Blake, everything's packed," she informed him.
"Good. Let's go," Blake said, turning to Rip. "Are you really willing to leave this place behind?"
Rip sighed, taking one last look at the desolate village. It had been his home for so long, but there was nothing left for him here. He knew he would never return.
"Let's go," he said firmly.
Blake nodded and raised his hand. He traced a circle in the air, sparks flying as a shimmering dimensional portal materialized before them.
"O...O Virgin Mary!" Rip gasped, his pipe slipping from his mouth and falling to the ground.
[Ding! An extremely shocked emotion was detected!] [Ding! Congratulations to the host for obtaining a golden treasure chest!]
Blake grinned. It was always satisfying to impress people with his magic.
Carefully, Rip and Nagini stepped through the portal with him. When they emerged on the other side, they found themselves in a dimly lit alleyway. The sounds of a bustling city filled the air.
Rip turned in awe, taking in the towering buildings beyond the alley. "Blake... where are we?"
"This is London," Blake answered.
Rip's pipe fell again. "London? As in... England?"
[Ding! Extreme shock detected!] [Ding! Congratulations to the host for obtaining a golden treasure chest!]
Blake noticed that Rip's pipe was now barely holding together, cracks forming all over its surface.
Rip, still trying to process everything, looked at Blake in astonishment. "You mean to tell me we just traveled from Armenia to England in an instant? This magic... it's beyond Apparition!"
Blake simply smirked. "Come on, we have work to do."
They made their way to St. Mungo's, entering through the entrance disguised as an old red-brick department store. A mannequin in the window nodded at them and waved them inside. The moment they stepped through the glass, they found themselves in the hospital lobby, surrounded by patients with bizarre magical ailments.
Blake glanced around, spotting a man with a toilet stuck on his head and another whose entire left arm had transformed into a cactus. He blinked. "What are wizards even doing to themselves?"
Nagini chuckled. "I'm more impressed that the healers manage to deal with this every day."
They approached the information desk, where a witch in dark green robes was slumped over, clearly dozing off. Blake cleared his throat.
"Ahem... I wasn't sleeping!" she blurted out, straightening instantly. When she realized they weren't her boss, she let out a relieved sigh.
"Oh, uh... Hello, I'm Tris Pye, a trainee healer. Do you need help? Did you eat poisonous mushrooms? Hallucinogenic ones, perhaps?" She rambled on, before catching herself. "No? Oh... then why are you here?"
Blake finally spoke. "We're here to visit patients in the permanent ward on the fifth floor."
Tris flipped through a notebook. "Ah, you must mean Frank and Alice Longbottom, Broderick Bode, or... Agnes and Agatha? Which one?"
Blake's expression darkened. The Longbottoms. He remembered their story. Heroes who had fought against Voldemort, only to be tortured into insanity by Death Eaters. They had been sent to St. Mungo's, where they had remained ever since.
"I want to visit them," he said firmly.
Tris blinked. "All of them?"
"Yes."
Tris suddenly looked flustered. "Ah! You're Blake Green? That's different! I got a notice this morning—if you came, you could visit all of them freely!"
Blake's eyes narrowed slightly. 'So Dumbledore was expecting this...'
"Just visiting?" he mused. 'Or does he expect me to do more?'
He smirked slightly. "Alright, lead the way."
Dumbledore's schemes or not, he was ready.
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