The next morning dawned crisp and clear.
Sunday meant no classes—a blessed reprieve that Glenn typically used for his two-hour morning workout before breakfast. Today should have been no different.
Except Hermione, who usually joined him for their training sessions, was conspicuously absent.
Glenn waited by the Great Hall entrance for five minutes, scanning the corridors for any sign of bushy brown hair. When none appeared, he set off alone, leaving Hogwarts Castle behind as he headed toward the Black Lake for his warm-up jog.
Even after completing his full routine—the punishing circuit that left him pleasantly exhausted—showering in his dormitory, and arriving at the Great Hall just as breakfast was being served, there was still no sign of his study partner.
Eight o'clock sharp. Steam rose from platters of eggs, bacon, and fresh toast, filling the air with mouth-watering aromas. The perfect time for a proper breakfast.
Glenn settled into their usual spot at the Gryffindor table, considering the mystery of Hermione's absence for exactly three seconds before reaching the obvious conclusion.
She'd overslept.
His suspicion proved correct an hour later when Hermione burst through the Great Hall doors like a small hurricane. Her hair had achieved new levels of wildness, streaming behind her as she half-ran, half-stumbled between the tables. She looked like a lion cub that had been struck by lightning—all frazzled fur and desperate energy. Her weekend clothes bore the telltale wrinkles of someone who'd thrown them on in a panic.
Glenn remained serenely focused on the magical device in his hands—a Remembrall he'd completely dismantled, its components floating in precise formations above the table as he worked. The delicate brass gears and crystal fragments danced through the air with mechanical precision.
Ten steps away from their table, Hermione forced herself to slow down. By the time she reached Glenn's side, she'd managed something resembling a dignified walk. She swung her leg over the bench, smoothed her rumpled skirt, and sank down beside him, cheeks flushed pink from exertion—or possibly embarrassment.
"Overslept?" Glenn asked without looking up from his work.
The Remembrall's components continued their aerial ballet, each piece finding its designated place as his magic guided the reassembly.
"...Yes," Hermione admitted, her voice muffled as she buried her face in her hands. "I wasn't even up that late last night. I don't understand how this happened."
Her cheeks darkened from pink to scarlet—definitely embarrassment, then.
"You expended considerable energy yesterday," Glenn pointed out reasonably. "Both physical and magical. Your body simply demanded the recovery time it needed."
"But I lost two whole hours!" Hermione's hands dropped from her face, revealing an expression of pure academic anguish. "Two hours I could have spent studying, or practicing, or—"
"Eating breakfast," Glenn interrupted smoothly. With a subtle gesture, he guided the meal he'd prepared for her across the table. "Which you can do now. The lost time isn't truly lost if you make productive use of what remains."
Hermione seized the sandwich like a lifeline, taking an enormous bite before speaking around the mouthful. "You're right. I've decided—before I go find Professor Dumbledore about yesterday's situation, I'm implementing dual-track operations with the alchemical puppet."
Glenn's reassembly work paused for just a moment. The alchemical puppet had become Hermione's personal study aid, a remarkable piece of magic that allowed her to literally be in two places at once. He only borrowed it during Dueling Club meetings when he needed to demonstrate techniques from multiple angles.
What had started as a tool for attending overlapping classes had evolved into something far more ambitious in Hermione's hands. She'd learned to control the puppet while studying independently, effectively doubling her learning capacity. The mental strain was enormous—she could only maintain the split focus for about an hour at a time—but the results spoke for themselves.
It was the kind of academic dedication that would make lesser students weep into their pumpkin juice.
"You're planning to continue investigating the Black-Pettigrew situation?" Glenn asked, though he already knew the answer.
"Of course." Hermione swallowed her bite of sandwich and nodded emphatically. "Aren't you curious about what happens next? The Ministry's response, whether Sirius can clear his name... Think about it, Glenn. They'll have to acknowledge twelve years of wrongful imprisonment. The legal proceedings alone will be fascinating."
Her eyes lit up with the particular gleam that appeared whenever she encountered a complex problem worth solving. "There'll be evidence reviews, witness testimonies, probably a full Wizengamot hearing. I've been reading about magical jurisprudence, and cases like this—where new evidence completely overturns a conviction—they're incredibly rare. The precedents, the procedures, the political implications..."
Glenn continued his work on the Remembrall, each component sliding into place with satisfying clicks. He understood Hermione's fascination, truly he did. But his own involvement in yesterday's events had been purely circumstantial—a consequence of the monitoring system he'd installed, nothing more.
"What's that look for?" Hermione had caught his expression, tilting her head with concern. She reached out to turn his face toward her, studying his features. "You think I'm being silly."
"Not silly," Glenn corrected. "Just... thorough. Characteristically so." He allowed her to examine his face for a moment before gently turning back to his work. "I'm simply not interested in the aftermath. Yesterday's assistance was sufficient involvement for my taste."
"Mm." Hermione nodded, unsurprised. She guided his face back to its original position with the same careful precision he used for his mechanical work. "I figured as much. Don't worry—I'll give you a full briefing once everything's resolved."
"Appreciated."
The Remembrall gave a final, satisfied chime as its last component locked into place. The device glowed softly, its internal mists swirling with renewed purpose. Glenn pocketed it and stood, brushing invisible crumbs from his robes.
"I need to return the communication equipment to Professor Snape," he announced.
"Right then." Hermione waved him off with one hand while reaching for her pumpkin juice with the other. "I'll see you in the library later. Try not to let Snape's charming personality ruin your morning."
Glenn's lips twitched in what might have been amusement. "I'll endeavor to survive the encounter."
As he walked away, he could hear Hermione already muttering to herself about legal precedents and Ministry procedures. Some things, he reflected, never changed.
And perhaps that was for the best.
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