What Did You See?

Perhaps it was because Glenn's first attempt at brewing the Invigoration Draught had been flawless, or perhaps it was simply because his leg hurt too much to bear.

By the time the second bottle of Invigoration Draught was finished, Snape had already left with the unknown potion he'd been brewing in the classroom from the start—taking the second finished bottle of Invigoration Draught along with him, claiming it would serve as the test for this short lesson.

But watching Professor Snape's limping figure, Glenn had a feeling he wouldn't be grading that assignment and handing it back.

The classroom, however, was left to Glenn to freely practice and solidify what had been covered in the private tutoring session just now.

On the surface, this Potions professor seemed rather irresponsible, but considering the actual circumstances, he'd done a splendid job!

Looking at the bottles of Horklump Juice on the table, Glenn stepped up to the podium.

Gazing at the many cauldrons below the podium, he raised his wand and gave a light tap.

The next moment, clear water flowed out of thin air into each empty cauldron.

Flames crackled and burned on the grates beneath them.

With a lift of his left hand, the popping sounds of bottle and jar lids opening rang out from near to far.

With a point of his right hand, the White Fresh leaves stored in the box were sliced into pieces of the perfect size for potion-making.

Like a conductor leading an orchestra, Glenn held his wand as both hands drifted in a certain rhythm.

The flames danced, the liquid boiled.

As the White Fresh leaves were added one by one, a rich, life-filled herbal fragrance burst forth, swirling with the steam throughout the entire classroom.

The Bronze Stirring Rod leaped into the boiling potion, round after round crushing the clumps of magic that hadn't fully dissolved...

Unlike the half-hour recorded in the textbook, Glenn's time to brew a bottle of Invigoration Draught was compressed to fifteen minutes—a full half shorter!

And he dared to guarantee that the potency wouldn't be any worse than the textbook's; it might even surpass it by a significant margin.

As for the reason—nothing else, just practice making perfect.

After about an hour or so, Glenn had turned all the White Fresh leaves into bottles of pale green Invigoration Draught.

They might not be needed right now, but items for self-rescue are always good to have on hand.

After placing all those bottles and jars back where they belonged, Glenn stored the Invigoration Draughts into the storage compartments inside his little money pouch—of course, an ordinary pouch wouldn't have fit them.

But this was a pouch enchanted with the Undetectable Extension Charm, an effect that greatly expanded its internal space without changing its external size, appearance, or weight at all.

Cast by his forty-year-old self back then, Glenn didn't know the exact time limit, but it should be quite long—possibly even permanent...

After tidying everything up, Glenn closed the door to the Potions classroom.

He arrived at the now-empty staff lounge.

And in a small, unnoticed corner, a copy of Quidditch Through the Ages lay carelessly placed.

It was clear that Snape, who had confiscated this book, didn't care much about this library book—he was simply targeting Harry.

Being stricter with Gryffindor students was understandable.

After all, compared to the other houses, the relationship between Slytherin and Gryffindor was the worst.

But if it went to this extent, it was hard not to suspect some personal grudge.

Glenn pondered as he picked up the book.

But according to Harry, he'd never met Snape before coming to Hogwarts.

So why such hostility?

It couldn't really be that the Boy Who Lived's fame was too great, making this professor jealous, could it? That didn't hold up.

Either he had once followed that dark wizard called Voldemort, or he had some connection to Harry's parents.

Beyond that, it was hard to find any other reason to explain Professor Snape's intense focus on Harry, even surpassing his attention to other Slytherins.

But whichever of the two reasons it was, both were quite intriguing.

Voldemort went without saying—the direct cause of Harry's lightning-shaped scar.

And while Harry's parents had passed away, it was hard to say that scar had nothing to do with them—after all, it was the Blood Protection Charm!

An ancient magic!

"Meow~"

From around the corner came an excited, shrill cat cry.

In the depths of Hogwarts at night, this was Mrs. Norris's privilege.

Hearing that meow often meant some unlucky student was about to be in trouble.

"Hehe, let me see which disobedient student has come out tonight." A loud, piercing, balloon-like wheezing sound followed.

Peeves, looking like he couldn't wait to stir up trouble, floated out from the wall, flying behind Mrs. Norris, who had already entered hunting mode, eagerly waiting to see the panic on that unlucky student's face—it would surely be amusing.

But unfortunately, at that moment, Glenn had just been thinking about ancient magic and unconsciously turned serious...

"Meow!"

When she turned the corner, Mrs. Norris seemed to see something terrifying. Her fur instantly bristled, claws fully extended, and her body trembled uncontrollably.

And Peeves' reaction was even more exaggerated—after a single miserable shriek, he rolled and scrambled away in a blind panic, fleeing without a shred of the usual swagger he had when tormenting students and making them gnash their teeth in fury.

"What's wrong? Mrs. Norris, what happened? What did you see?!" Filch's tense shout came from down the corridor.

By the time he reached Mrs. Norris' side, he was drenched in sweat.

"What did you do to my Mrs. Norris?!" Filch practically roared, glaring at Glen.

To him, Mrs. Norris was practically family.

"I did nothing." Glen resumed his usual calm expression.

"Then why is she this terrified?" Filch demanded.

Faced with the only student present, a simple "I did nothing" wasn't convincing enough.

"I don't know, but Peeves was following her just now, acting sneaky," Glen said honestly.

Hearing this, though his anger hadn't lessened one bit, Filch's urge to shout at Glen again diminished considerably.

To be honest, he wasn't a man who trusted others easily.

But Peeves' reputation was notoriously foul. As Hogwarts' caretaker, Filch had spent nearly his entire career battling that loathsome, prank-loving pest.

This included, but was not limited to: cleaning up vases Peeves had smashed, prying open castle windows and doors Filch had just locked, trapping Mrs. Norris inside empty magical book chests and suits of armor...

Filch had no doubt at all that Peeves was capable of such things.

"Mrs. Norris, can you tell me what you saw?" Filch crouched down, tenderly scooping up the trembling cat, but his eyes remained fixed on Glen.

If Mrs. Norris so much as pointed a claw at the student before him, Filch would make sure he learned what school rules really meant!

But in the end, Mrs. Norris made no such gesture—she just kept shaking uncontrollably.

"Fine, it wasn't you. Damn that Peeves!" Filch gritted his teeth. "But you! Glen Howard, you've also broken the rules—loitering on school grounds after curfew. You deserve punishment."

"I'm sorry about breaking curfew, but Professor Snape was giving me a lesson, as you know." Glen gave a slight bow.

Hearing this, Filch was furious, but there was nothing he could say.

As the caretaker, he had no authority to punish students himself. He could only hand them over to their respective Head of House, who would deduct points and propose a punishment.

And clearly, Snape had tacitly approved of Glen's curfew violation tonight.

"Let's go, Mrs. Norris! We're finding that damned Peeves."