As Tris escorted several people to Dean Bohan's office, she couldn't contain her curiosity and turned to Blake.
"Why are you seeing Dean Bohan this time?" she asked, eyes gleaming with interest.
The last time Blake visited, Dean Bohan had chased after him in vain. Now, Blake had returned on his own accord. Tris suspected it had to do with the last two remaining patients in the permanent ward on the fifth floor—cases even Blake hadn't been able to cure.
Tris, passionate about healing, had joined St. Bavar's right after graduation. She had watched in awe as Blake discharged every other patient he treated. His methods fascinated her, and she longed to observe his techniques firsthand. She hoped that when he started treating the last two patients, she might be allowed to watch and learn.
Blake, aware of her thoughts, had no objections. He had already decided to share his healing techniques with the therapists at St. Mungo's after discussing them with Dean Bohan. Besides, Tris was talented—it would be beneficial to have another skilled healer.
After some thought, Blake answered her question, "I'm very interested in healing, and Dean Bohan is the best healer in Europe. I came to seek his guidance."
Tris blinked. "Really?" She found it hard to believe. In her eyes, Blake was already incredibly skilled—far beyond Dean Bohan, who couldn't cure the patients on the fifth floor. Besides, why would Dumbledore and Professor Kettleburn accompany him just for that?
"Of course," Blake replied. "I cured them, but I used unorthodox methods. That's nothing compared to the healing techniques Dean Bohan has mastered."
Tris nodded hesitantly but privately disagreed. If a technique worked, it worked—why did it matter how long someone had studied or whether the methods were conventional?
Nearby, Dumbledore and Kettleburn exchanged amused glances. They admired Blake's humility. It was, in fact, Dean Bohan who wanted to learn from Blake, but to preserve the older man's dignity, Blake had framed it as if he were the one seeking guidance. This thoughtfulness reassured them—Blake would never follow the dark path of someone like Voldemort or Grindelwald.
Soon, they arrived at Dean Bohan's office.
"He should be inside," Tris said.
"Thank you, Tris," Blake said with a smile.
Tris hesitated. She wanted to stay and observe, but they barely knew each other. Had Blake only agreed to teach her out of politeness? How could she ask to stay?
Blake, noticing her hesitation, asked, "Something wrong?"
"No, no… I mean, we're here, so… do what you need to do," Tris stammered before hastily leaving. Once out of sight, she sighed, berating herself. "Why am I so useless? I couldn't even ask…"
Blake watched her go, amused. He found her quite interesting.
Dumbledore knocked, and a gentle voice answered, "Come in."
They entered, finding Dean Bohan writing at his desk. Looking up, he removed his glasses in surprise.
"Albus! What brings you here?" he greeted warmly, shaking Dumbledore's hand. Then, noticing Kettleburn and Blake, his eyes twinkled with excitement. He had been eager to speak with Blake, but his attention was immediately stolen by Kettleburn's newly regrown hand.
"What's this?" Dean Bohan rushed forward, grabbing Kettleburn's arm, inspecting it carefully.
Not satisfied with just the arm, he reached for Kettleburn's trousers.
"Hey! Old Bohan! What are you doing? I'm not that kind of person!" Kettleburn protested.
"Stop talking nonsense! Take off your pants!"
"Excuse me?! I didn't know you had such interests! Don't pull—"
"I want to see your new legs!"
"Oh… well, you should have led with that instead of grabbing my pants!"
"You're the one with no serious thoughts!"
"And you think pulling someone's pants is serious?"
After a brief struggle, they compromised, and Kettleburn rolled up his trouser legs.
Dean Bohan examined them closely. "They're… healthier than the rest of your body… And they look younger? This is the first time I've seen anything like it. How did you regrow them?"
Proudly, Kettleburn pointed to Blake. "He did it with a spell."
Dean Bohan turned to Blake in shock, then to Dumbledore, who nodded in confirmation. His medical expertise told him that cursed injuries, like those Kettleburn had sustained, should have been impossible to fully heal. Even the best healers could, at best, leave behind scars. The most famous case was Auror Alastor Moody—legendary for capturing criminals, but left with lifelong scars and disabilities. And yet, Blake had restored Kettleburn's limbs flawlessly.
"This… this is a huge breakthrough in healing…" Dean Bohan murmured, eyes shining with excitement.
[Ding! Extreme surprise detected.] [Ding! Congratulations, host, for earning a diamond treasure chest!]
Taking a deep breath, Dean Bohan turned to Blake. "This is presumptuous of me, but… could you share that spell?"
He braced for rejection. A spell capable of healing cursed injuries was invaluable; anyone would want to keep it secret.
Blake, however, smiled. "Of course."
"I understand if you don't—wait, what?" Dean Bohan's eyes widened.
"I said, of course," Blake repeated. "That's why we're here—to share healing techniques. That spell is included."
Overcome with emotion, Dean Bohan clasped Blake's hands. "St. Mungo's thanks you. The wizarding world thanks you."
At first, he had thought Blake merely had a talent for healing. Now, he realized Blake possessed knowledge far beyond even experienced healers. A spell capable of regrowing limbs… This was nothing short of revolutionary.
Realizing they were still standing, Dean Bohan quickly ushered everyone to sit and personally brewed coffee for them. Then, he and Blake began exchanging healing techniques.
Dumbledore and Kettleburn, unable to contribute, simply sipped their coffee in silence. Despite his young age, Blake spoke with the confidence and knowledge of a seasoned healer, impressing Dean Bohan immensely.
"This spell requires a deep understanding of human anatomy," Blake explained. "When casting it, you must visualize the severed limb in full detail. Without this knowledge, the spell won't work."
The Wishful Wand had allowed Blake to bypass this step, but for others, it would be challenging—even experienced healers would struggle.
"What happens if the spell fails?" Dean Bohan asked.
"Nothing. The spell simply won't work—no harm done."
Relieved, Dean Bohan continued studying it. After a while, he finally felt ready to attempt it himself.
"We have several patients with such injuries," he said. "If they agree, we can try it now."
He left and returned shortly, beaming. The patients had readily consented—after all, they had nothing to lose.
"Blake, come along," Dean Bohan said. "I'll attempt the spell, and you can correct me."
"Of course. By the way, Tris Pye loves healing. May she observe?"
"Miss Pye? Absolutely."
Blake smiled. He had seen Tris's hesitation earlier—she had wanted to ask to observe but hadn't dared. Now, he would bring her along himself. He had always been willing to support those eager to learn.
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