What Did You See?

Perhaps Glen had made his first Invigorating Potion flawlessly, or perhaps Professor Snape's leg had simply been hurting too much to bear.

By the time Glen had finished his second bottle of Invigorating Potion, Snape had left with the unknown potion he'd started brewing in the classroom—and taken the second finished bottle of Invigoration Draught with him, saying he would use it to test Glen's work from the short lesson.

But watching Professor Snape limp away, Glen doubted he would grade the assignment and return it.

Snape had left the classroom to Glen, giving him free rein to practice what he'd just learned during his private lesson.

On the surface, the Potions professor didn't seem very responsible. But given the circumstances, Glen thought he'd done a brilliant job!

Looking at the bottles of Horklump Juice on the table, Glen walked up to the lectern.

He looked over the numerous cauldrons below and raised his wand, giving it a gentle flick.

The next moment, water streamed out of nowhere into each empty cauldron.

Flames crackled beneath them in the furnace grates.

He raised his left hand, and the corks popped off bottles and jars, one after another, from far away to near.

He pointed with his right, and the Dittany leaves in a box were chopped into the perfect size for brewing.

Like a conductor leading an orchestra, Glen held his wand as both hands danced in a measured rhythm.

The flames danced, and the liquid boiled.

As the Dittany leaves were added, a rich, life-filled herbal fragrance rose with the smoke and spread through the classroom.

The Bronze Stirring Rod leaped into the scalding potion, rolling over and over the clumps of magic that had yet to dissolve completely...

Unlike the half hour stated in the textbook, Glen had cut the time needed to brew one bottle of Invigorating Potion down to fifteen minutes—half as long!

And he was certain it wouldn't be any less effective than the textbook's recipe. It might even be much stronger.

As for why—nothing more than practice.

It took a little over an hour for Glen to brew all the Dittany leaves into bottles of pale green Invigorating Potion.

He might not need them just yet, but it never hurt to have something on hand to save his life.

After putting all the bottles and jars back where they belonged, Glen stored the Invigorating Potions in a compartment inside his small coin purse—though, of course, a normal purse wouldn't have held them all.

But this purse had been enchanted with the Undetectable Extension Charm. It greatly expanded the space inside without changing the object's external size, appearance, or weight.

His forty-year-old self had cast the spell back then. Glen didn't know exactly how long it would last, but probably a long time. It might even be permanent...

Once everything was tidied away, Glen closed the door to the Potions Classroom.

He made his way to the now-empty staff room.

In an unnoticed corner, a copy of Quidditch Through the Ages lay carelessly discarded.

It was clear that Snape didn't care about the book he'd confiscated from the school library—he'd only been targeting Harry.

It was understandable that he was stricter with Gryffindor students.

After all, Slytherin and Gryffindor had the worst relationship of all the Houses.

But if things went this far, it was hard not to wonder if there was some personal grudge between them.

Glen pondered this as he picked up the book.

But according to Harry, he hadn't even met Snape before coming to Hogwarts.

So why was Snape so hostile toward him?

Could it really be because the Boy Who Lived was so famous that the professor was jealous? That didn't make sense.

Either Snape had once followed the Dark wizard named Voldemort, or he had some history with Harry's parents.

It was hard to explain Snape's keen interest in Harry by any other means—an interest that went far beyond what he showed the other Slytherins.

But either possibility was intriguing.

Voldemort needed no introduction. He was the direct cause of the lightning-shaped scar on Harry's forehead.

And although Harry's parents were dead, it was hard to say they had nothing to do with that scar. After all, it was the Blood Protection Charm!

An Ancient Magic!

"Meow~"

A sharp, excited cat's yowl rang out from around the corner.

Late at night at Hogwarts, this was Mrs. Norris's domain.

When that yowl rang out, it usually meant some unlucky student was about to have a very bad night.

"Heh, heh, let's see which disobedient student's snuck out tonight." A loud, grating, sputtering sound followed, like air escaping from a balloon.

Peeves drifted through the wall, looking delighted at the prospect of trouble. He flew behind Mrs. Norris, who was already on the hunt, eager to see the panic-stricken look on the unlucky student's face. It was sure to be hilarious.

Unfortunately, Glen was thinking about Ancient Magic just then, and had become more serious without realizing it...

"Meow!"

As Mrs. Norris rounded the corner, she seemed to see something terrifying. Her fur stood on end, and her claws shot out as her body trembled uncontrollably.

Peeves reacted even more dramatically. With a shriek, he scrambled away in a blind panic, entirely unlike his usual smug self when tormenting students and driving them up the wall.

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

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

"What did you do to my Norris?!" Filch roared at Glen.

To him, Mrs. Norris was practically family.

"I didn't do anything." Glen's expression returned to its usual calm.

"Then why is she so scared?" Filch demanded.

Glen was the only student there, and simply saying he'd done nothing wasn't very convincing.

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

Though Filch was still angry, hearing this took some of the force out of his urge to yell at Glen again.

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

But Peeves's reputation was so appalling that, as Hogwarts's caretaker, Filch had spent nearly his entire career fighting the troublesome prankster.

Among other things, he'd had to clean up vases smashed by Peeves, pry open all the castle windows and doors Filch had just finished closing, and fish Mrs. Norris out of empty book trunks and suits of armor...

Filch had no trouble believing Peeves could have done all that.

"Norris, can you tell me what you saw?" Filch crouched down and tenderly picked up the trembling cat, though his gaze remained fixed on Glen.

If Mrs. Norris pointed a paw at the student in front of her, Filch would make sure he learned what it meant to break the rules!

But Mrs. Norris didn't indicate anything at all. She just kept trembling.

"All right, it wasn't you. Damn Peeves!" Filch gritted his teeth. "But you, Glen Howard, have broken the rules too. Wandering around the school during Curfew deserves punishment."

"I'm sorry for breaking Curfew, but it was because Professor Snape was giving me a lesson. You know that," Glen said, inclining his head.

Filch was furious, but there was nothing he could do.

As caretaker, he had no authority to punish students himself. Usually, he could only hand them over to their House head, who would deduct points and decide on a punishment.

And Snape had clearly allowed Glen to break Curfew tonight.

"Come on, Norris. Let's go find that damned Peeves."