The Little Eagle Luring Method

One morning, almost all the students were crowded into the Great Hall for breakfast.

Of course, Glenn was no exception.

At that moment, he was thinking about how to speed up the growth of his Dittany.

By definition, it was a small plant with magical properties that helped heal and repair.

Cultivating it wasn't difficult, especially with the seedlings already grown and the soil Professor Sprout had prepared.

As long as your Herbology skills weren't shockingly bad, getting the plants to take root generally wasn't a problem.

The real issue was time.

For a more advanced plant-growing permit, Professor Sprout had set Glenn this requirement: by the end of the school year, he had to grow at least five Dittany plants that were mature enough to make Essence of Dittany.

It was an awkward number of plants, since Dittany took about six to eight weeks to mature.

If he did nothing and simply let them grow on their own, they would certainly survive. But by the time he had five, summer would probably have begun.

So during that time, Glenn had to use his Herbology knowledge to find a way to speed up their growth.

If only I could get some Mooncalf dung, Glenn thought as he sat in his chair after breakfast in the Great Hall, sipping his coffee.

Mooncalf dung could speed up the growth of Dittany, while the moonlight magic it contained also enhanced its medicinal effects. It was a very useful fertilizer.

But if professional Herbologists heard him say that, it would probably break their hearts.

After all, Mooncalf dung was highly prized in Herbology, and it had to be collected before sunrise on the day it was produced to preserve its magical properties.

So they were generally unwilling to use Mooncalf dung as fertilizer for a basic herb like Dittany.

But Glenn didn't have that problem—he wasn't a professional.

Just then, owls appeared from who knew where and swarmed into the Great Hall.

They carried all sorts of letters and parcels. The most eye-catching was a long, narrow package borne by six eagle owls.

As everyone watched, the package was gently set down in front of Harry... but he didn't open it.

Revelio made it clear, however, that it was a flying broomstick.

Maybe I could ask someone else to buy some fertilizer for me, Glenn mused, setting down his coffee cup.

He felt a little sorry for the owls who would have to fly all that way just to deliver dung, but it might still be a good idea.

The only problem was that if he really did this, the delivery couldn't possibly be sent to the Great Hall—he'd be thrown out.

Beside him, Blaise Zabini finished reading his letter. His expression barely changed, but his fingertips had gone white where he gripped the paper.

"Glenn, I remember you said that the year before you came to Hogwarts, you were adopted from an orphanage, right?"

"Yeah." Glenn nodded.

It wasn't a secret. Finding a wizard he trusted to act as his guardian was far more convenient in many ways than letting the school take on that role.

"Then could I spend Christmas at your place?"

Glenn was taken aback by the sudden question.

Blaise looked at the letter in his hand and gave a cold laugh.

"My mum's holding a memorial for my wealthy stepfather at Christmas. She said she hoped I'd make good use of the opportunity to expand my social circle..."

"Can you imagine? One moment everyone's pretending to mourn, and the next they're happily off to the Yule Ball. Some people even came up to me to ask when the next one would be..."

Blaise turned the letter facedown on the table and took a deep breath, cutting himself off.

His question about spending Christmas at Glenn's had just slipped out in a moment of anger.

He couldn't actually defy his mother's orders.

Seeing that Blaise didn't want to say any more, Glenn didn't press the subject.

In the silence, Glenn had to admit that not everything could be solved with a chain of Avada Kedavra lightning or a few Biting Cabbages.

In some ways, dealing with the Goblin Rebellion might be easier than sorting out family matters like this.

Besides, he planned to stay at Hogwarts over the Christmas holidays.

Glenn glanced at the jam tarts that appeared on the table day after day. He thought about it, but still didn't reach for one.

For some reason, they tasted a little strange to him.

The good news was that he didn't have many classes today.

The bad news was that he had a lot of homework.

As someone who had once completed the entire Hogwarts curriculum in just a year, Glenn wasn't worried about his assignments.

There was no harm in taking his time, but the important thing was to be quick and not let a little homework tie him down.

So now, his quill scratched away as he wrote at full speed in neat handwriting.

In just a short while, he had filled about eight inches of parchment with his essay.

His speed made Hermione, sitting nearby, glance over in surprise.

But she wasn't far behind. The piles of books and notebooks on her table made her look like a Ravenclaw student.

In fact, the sight was a little too much.

A genuine Ravenclaw first-year nearby stared at them in disbelief.

First, he looked at the half-finished essay he'd gotten stuck on, just to make sure his house really was Ravenclaw, the house of wisdom.

Then he had to make sure his eyes weren't deceiving him.

A Slytherin and a Gryffindor—the two houses everyone at Hogwarts agreed were the most at odds—were sitting right next to each other!

And they weren't even fighting!

That alone was enough to pique anyone's curiosity. But on top of that, while chatting with the Gryffindor, the Slytherin had casually brought out a potted plant and was pointing things out on it, explaining the still-tiny seedling...

As a sharp-eyed little eagle—the symbol of Ravenclaw—he recognized it at once. It was a pot of Dittany!

In other words, it was the subject of their Herbology essay.

He looked at his essay, then at the Gryffindor girl, who had just made a look of sudden understanding.

Driven by his desire to finish his homework early... ahem, to pursue knowledge, the Ravenclaw first-year resisted the Slytherin's bad reputation.

Taking a deep breath, he stood up and interrupted their private conversation.

"Excuse me, my name is Anthony Goldstein. Could I—"

"Sure. Bring your essay over and sit nearby while you listen." Glenn seemed to have expected this. He pointed to the empty seat across from him.

The relationship between a bug and an eagle was much like the relationship between knowledge and Ravenclaws.

As long as it seemed even remotely safe, the little eagles couldn't resist pecking at a fresh, plump bug.