HP: Bad Intentions

As soon as the Aurors from the French Ministry of Magic appeared, their wands were raised, and spells started flying toward Blake with precision. But the unexpected happened—the pea shooter plants surrounding Blake were faster than any incantation.

From the mouths of the magical plants, countless green light projectiles shot forward in rapid succession. The barrage caught the Aurors completely off guard, pelting them before they could even finish their spells.

Several fell victim to the initial attack, their shields uncast, leaving them stunned or bruised by the strange offensive vegetation.

Blake, completely unbothered, sat on a wooden bench near the Ministry's entrance. He had his eyes closed and showed no interest in even turning to face the ongoing skirmish.

From a safe distance, Professor Babbling perched on a small chair in a nearby alley, watching with a mix of amusement and astonishment. She munched on a packet of candied nuts, murmuring, 'Tsk, tsk. This boy really knows how to humiliate his enemies. It seems like the French Ministry offended him more than I realized.'

The chaotic scene continued to unfold as the pea shooters launched their relentless volley. The bizarre magical plants, unrelenting in their attack, managed to embarrass several elite Aurors. The insult was evident in their expressions; these were supposed to be the Ministry's most skilled and disciplined enforcers, yet they were being toyed with by plants.

[Ding! Humiliation detected!]

[Ding! Congratulations to the host for acquiring a silver treasure chest!]

[Ding! Detected...]

The voice of the system echoed in Blake's mind, but his expression remained nonchalant. His apparent indifference only fueled the Aurors' anger.

Fortunately for him, this wave of operations by Blake, the opponent contributed a lot of treasure chests to him!

Though the pea shooters managed to incapacitate a few Aurors, the rest were quick to regroup. They cast Protego shields to deflect the incoming projectiles. Realizing the plants lacked significant offensive power, the Aurors began to work around them.

"Boom!"

A trio of the more experienced Aurors launched coordinated Bombarda Maxima spells toward Blake and his pea shooters. The explosions shook the ground, sending debris flying everywhere. Simultaneously, other Aurors fired a mix of powerful and lethal spells, including Confringo, Reducto, and Diffindo, directly at Blake.

This time, their attacks held no restraint. The Aurors had abandoned non-lethal spells like Stupefy or Expelliarmus, fully intent on neutralizing their target by any means necessary.

Inside the Ministry building, even the non-combatants felt the tremors. The combined assault produced such a deafening series of explosions that nearby Muggles looked up from their mundane tasks, startled and confused.

Babbling stood abruptly from her bench, concern flashing across her face. Despite her trust in Blake's abilities, the sheer magnitude of spells cast against him made her stomach churn.

She clutched the small stack of scrolls she'd prepared to intervene with if needed. Yet she forced herself to remain still, muttering, 'Blake isn't stupid. He wouldn't put himself in this position without a plan. He has this under control… right?'

As the smoke and dust began to settle, the Aurors cautiously approached the site of the explosions. Confidence filled their steps; after all, no one, not even an adult wizard, could have withstood that level of magical firepower.

But then the unbelievable came into view.

Blake was still sitting on the same wooden bench, entirely unharmed. Not a single scorch mark marred his robes, and the bench itself remained intact, looking as if it had just been polished.

"What… what is this sorcery?" one of the younger Aurors stammered, his voice breaking with disbelief.

Blake's unbothered demeanour as he slowly opened his eyes and smiled only made the moment more surreal. "Oh, you're all still here? I thought you'd be gone by now," he quipped, standing and casually dusting off his robe.

He stretched his arms, holding his wand loosely between his fingers as though it was more of an afterthought than a weapon. "Hello, esteemed Aurors of the French Ministry of Magic. Allow me to introduce myself. I'm Blake Green. You may have heard of me... or, considering the half-million Galleon bounty on my head, some of you probably have my picture tucked under your pillow."

The remark hung in the air like a slap to the face. Several Aurors bristled with barely contained fury, their fists clenching around their wands.

Blake continued, undeterred by their seething glares. "Now, I know you're eager to earn that hefty sum, but, judging by what just happened, it seems you're not quite up to the task. A dozen of you against one boy, and not a single scratch on me?" He chuckled, the sound light and mocking.

"Honestly, I expected better."

One of the senior Aurors, a middle-aged wizard with graying temples, stepped forward. His face was a mix of anger and embarrassment. "Blake Green! Do you have any idea how much trouble you've brought upon yourself with your actions today?"

Blake tilted his head, pretending to ponder the question. "Trouble? Oh, you mean the part where I sat peacefully on this bench and enjoyed the view while you lot decided to rain down deadly curses on me without any provocation?"

"Provocation?" the man retorted. "What about those cursed plants? They attacked us!"

"My precious plants," Blake said with an exaggerated offence, "only respond to hostility. If you hadn't been so trigger-happy with your wands, they wouldn't have fought back. And even then," he added with a smirk, "their attacks were non-lethal. Just a few bruises, really. But you," his tone darkened, "you aimed to kill. Exploding curses, slashing spells… if I weren't so capable, I'd be a pile of ashes right now."

The senior Auror faltered, unable to deny Blake's point. It was true; their attack had been excessive, especially against someone so young.

Blake pressed on, his voice now laced with mockery. "And now you're telling me that defending myself is illegal? Are the Aurors of the French Ministry really so arrogant and incompetent?" He swept his gaze over the group. "Or are you all just cowards, too afraid to admit you've lost?"

"Enough!" the senior Auror snapped, though his face betrayed his unease. "You're a wanted criminal! We're within our rights to subdue you."

"Ah, but are you?" Blake interjected, a sly grin forming. "As per Article 756, subsection three of your own Ministry's 1989 decree, Aurors are prohibited from attacking a wanted fugitive unless said fugitive shows aggressive intent or refuses an offer to surrender. Tell me, was I aggressive?"

The silence that followed was deafening.

Blake took a step closer, his grin widening as he saw the growing frustration on their faces. "No? Then I guess I meet the criteria, don't I? So, the only lawbreakers here… are you."

Several of the Aurors turned to their leader, hoping for some rebuttal, but none came. The middle-aged Auror's silence spoke volumes.

"Pathetic," Blake muttered, shaking his head. "A dozen of you couldn't even break through my defences, and now you're caught breaking your own laws. How embarrassing."

He turned on his heel and strolled back toward the bench, his wand twirling idly in his fingers. "If this is the best the French Ministry of Magic has to offer, then I'm not impressed."

Behind him, the Aurors stood frozen, humiliated and enraged, yet utterly powerless to act.

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