Glenn's so-called "criminal schemes that no one has ever patronized" was clearly his own problem—his overly crude, lawless proposals made Snape's eye twitch incessantly.
"We'll see."
Recalling Snape's polite deflection, Glenn sighed inwardly. Once again, his criminal mastermind pitch had failed to launch.
It was genuinely feasible, though.
Both their needs could be satisfied—multiple birds, one stone. Why not?
Hmm... but if I implemented it myself, the risks might be considerable... better to think long-term.
Since this proposal had crashed and burned, he'd let it go. Glenn purged the unnecessary information from his mind and headed toward the library.
He'd spent exactly one hour and twenty-four minutes in Snape's office. The young wizards, exhausted from yesterday's ordeal, had mostly risen by now, wandering Hogwarts castle in cheerful clusters, their faces bright with relief—a stark contrast to yesterday's oppressive atmosphere.
They gossiped eagerly, desperate for details about yesterday's aftermath.
Unfortunately, no student besides Glenn and Hermione possessed any real knowledge, since they hadn't even heard the battle sounds between Hermione and Peter Pettigrew in the seventh-floor corridor last night.
The reason for that...
Fragments of last night's events surfaced in Glenn's memory.
After the battle ended, Glenn and Hermione had walked together to the seventh-floor staircase. The instant they stepped onto the stairs and left the seventh floor, both sensed something amiss.
More precisely, they detected an almost imperceptible magical fluctuation.
"Is this... a Silencing Charm?" Hermione extended her hand, testing the magical currents at the boundary between the seventh floor and staircase.
"Probably Dumbledore's work—preventing your battle with Peter Pettigrew from alarming others and creating additional complications," Glenn observed, scanning their surroundings. The Silencing Charm had cleanly separated the seventh floor from the rest of the castle, its purpose crystal clear.
"...While I understand Dumbledore's reasoning, knowing my brilliant improvisation just vanished without the slightest splash or sound is rather deflating." Hermione wore a crestfallen expression. She'd been quite pleased with her second transformation that misdirected Peter Pettigrew'sBlasting Curse and used the explosion to alert others—only to discover Professor Dumbledore had already arrived and rendered her clever scheme invisible with his preemptive Silencing Charm.
"What reaction?"
"Pointless now. Never mind."
Glenn said nothing more, then crouched before Hermione with his back turned.
"Climb on. I'll carry you to your dormitory."
Glenn's comfort methods remained characteristically direct and simple.
And Hermione invariably fell for this approach.
Hermione blinked, then giggled softly.
"Then I'll graciously accept your offer~"
Hermione climbed onto Glenn's back, wrapping her arms around his neck. Glenn secured her carefully and stood.
Crookshanks sat nearby, radiating resentment.
I shouldn't be here. I should be under a car.
"Crookshanks, come."
Fortunately, the girl was kind and cat-empathetic, not forgetting Crookshanks even during her Glenn-cuddle time.
The cat's sour expression softened marginally. He leaped from ground to Hermione's back, climbing to her shoulder and perching there.
Two humans and one cat proceeded toward the eighth floor.
So Dumbledore'sSilencing Charm had temporarily concealed Peter Pettigrew's presence, allowing the students a decent night's sleep. Their current understanding remained shallow: "Sirius Black infiltrated Hogwarts for nefarious purposes, was detected by professors, and fled."
Sometimes ignorance was bliss. The more you knew, the deeper you got dragged into trouble.
Like himself and Hermione now—originally they'd had zero connection to Sirius Black or Peter Pettigrew, yet somehow they'd waded into this particular swamp.
Should I have killed Sirius Black as a rabid dog when we entered the Shrieking Shack yesterday...
No. Entertaining such impractical thoughts when he already knew Peter Pettigrew served Voldemort would be self-deception.
Perhaps removing a potential threat through this incident wasn't entirely disadvantageous?
Glenn successfully rationalized the situation. As someone who refused mental exhaustion, his thinking remained admirably flexible.
Unlike Hermione.
But that was Hermione's unchangeable nature.
Lost in contemplation, Glenn reached the second-floor library entrance.
Pushing the door open gently, Glenn frowned at the harsh commotion within—shouting, pleading, heated discussion.
Ron Weasley, Harry Potter, Seamus Finnigan, Dean Thomas.
And Neville.
Hermione was there too, naturally.
Madam Pince's eyebrows had knotted into a severe frown. She was rising from her desk when Glenn entered, her expression softening slightly.
"Miss Granger appears to be experiencing some difficulty."
"I'll handle it, Madam Pince. No need to concern yourself."
Glenn withdrew his wand and began casting.
"Muffliato."
The Silencing Charm activated instantly, isolating the noise. Tranquility returned to the library.
Nodding to Madam Pince, Glenn strode toward Hermione's detected location. Rounding a bookshelf, he reached the student study area where Hermione sat with an utterly exasperated expression, an unfinished book open before her. Across from her stood Ron, hands planted on the desk, speaking with tragic indignation written across his features.
Glenn stepped within the Silencing Charm's boundary, and Ron's voice became audible.
"...You two definitely planned to give me a potion to make Scabbers healthy first, wait until Scabbers recovered completely and I'd fattened him up nicely, then let your cat devour him!"
"Exactly! That's it precisely! My poor Scabbers—I finally nursed you back to health, and now you're destined to become someone else's pet food!"
Glenn: ...
Glenn finally understood Hermione's speechless expression.
What in Merlin's name was this about?
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