Once they'd distanced themselves from Madam Puddifoot's Tea Shop and confirmed their conversation wouldn't be overheard, Hermione launched into a stream of quietly indignant complaints.
"Unbelievable! Do people genuinely enjoy taking their romantic interests to such... distressing establishments?"
"The pink and frilly aesthetic is one thing—I suppose that could be considered romantic. The cramped quarters can't be helped either, given the building's original construction..."
"But saturating a small, enclosed space with competing perfumes, maintaining a roaring fireplace, serving multiple customer rotations, and providing absolutely no ventilation is categorically unacceptable."
"That stench was utterly unbearable!"
"I feel like my olfactory senses suffered a bloody terrorist attack!"
Hermione continued venting her genuine feelings through sharp, acerbic, and increasingly animated language. With only Glenn present, the spirited girl could temporarily abandon her public composure and display more authentic, passionate emotions.
"Scourgify."
Glenn silently cast a Scouring Charm on both himself and Hermione, eliminating the peculiar odors that had assaulted them when those warm, noxious vapors burst forth the instant they'd opened the door.
He could certainly endure such discomfort, but for Glenn, whose enhanced senses were equally acute, the experience had been decidedly unpleasant. If Hermione preferred avoiding that establishment, it was undoubtedly for the best.
"Glenn, let's check out The Three Broomsticks instead. Everyone praises its warm, comfortable atmosphere. Though equally crowded, at least the space is considerably larger without overwhelming fragrances. As for Madam Puddifoot's... let's simply pretend it doesn't exist."
Glenn naturally endorsed Hermione's suggestion wholeheartedly.
Having settled their itinerary, the pair swiftly arrived at The Three Broomsticks, positioned in Hogsmeade village's central district.
Above the pub's entrance hung the iconic triangular arrangement of three broomsticks, with a burning oil lamp suspended at the center, casting warm amber light.
The Three Broomsticks boasted a charmingly rustic and elegant decorative style, prompting Hermione to release a relieved sigh.
After conducting a preliminary scan of the pub's interior using his enhanced perception, Glenn stepped forward and carefully pushed open the door.
Midday had arrived. Though light snow continued falling outside, adequate illumination filtered through. Even without the interior oil lamps lit for additional lighting, the pub wasn't particularly dim—instead lending The Three Broomsticks an atmosphere of peaceful tranquility.
Though the current situation inside could hardly be described as tranquil.
One had to acknowledge this truly deserved recognition as Hogsmeade village's most beloved establishment. Even the originally spacious interior with its two-story architectural structure couldn't make the pub feel particularly roomy at present.
Young witches and wizards, along with visitors from distant locations, clustered around tables in groups of three to five. Their tables bore multiple glasses of alcoholic beverages and drinks as they conversed either enthusiastically or quietly, occasionally lifting glasses for appreciative sips. The pub resonated with animated conversation, satisfied gulping sounds, and effusive praise for Madam Rosmerta's exceptional craftsmanship.
Madam Rosmerta served as The Three Broomsticks' proprietress. Anyone who'd encountered her and sampled her expertly crafted beverages would immediately understand one fundamental truth—this pub's extraordinary popularity stemmed entirely from Madam Rosmerta herself.
This wasn't merely due to her exceptional drink-mixing abilities. Another crucial factor was quite simply: she was stunning.
Precisely that—stunning. Though casually mentioning a lady's age might prove impolite, according to widespread rumors, Madam Rosmerta had reached approximately forty years, yet maintained a gracefully curvaceous figure and strikingly attractive features. Her enduring allure rendered age irrelevant for most patrons.
Supposedly, numerous young wizards harbored secret infatuations with Madam Rosmerta~
Furthermore, Madam Rosmerta maintained extraordinarily extensive social connections. For instance, most Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry professors knew her personally and frequently visited The Three Broomsticks for drinks and conversation.
Consequently, The Three Broomsticks' thriving business surprised absolutely no one.
Having conducted advance reconnaissance of the establishment's interior, Glenn immediately guided Hermione through the crowd toward an available table. He seated her there while preparing to place their order.
"What would you fancy?"
Glenn inquired, his speech characteristically concise.
Hermione contemplated momentarily before deciding on her beverage selection.
"Since we're here, how could we possibly avoid ordering the butterbeer everyone most highly recommends at this establishment?"
"Though admittedly, there's also the consideration of selecting something with minimal alcohol content for my first drinking experience... but I'm rather curious what you'll choose, Glenn?"
After appending this somewhat sheepish addendum to her initial statement, Hermione redirected the question toward Glenn.
"Hmm... butterbeer as well."
Following brief consideration, Glenn provided his answer.
"Really?"
Hermione clearly appeared taken aback by this unexpected response.
"I rather assumed your established habits would compel you to refuse alcoholic beverages entirely."
Since Glenn's confession, Hermione frequently inquired about his previous lifestyle habits and personal details. Among these revelations was Glenn's complete abstinence from alcoholic beverages—he was strictly teetotal.
Glenn's explanation centered on maintaining constant alertness and keeping his reflexes razor-sharp. Alcohol—specifically ethanol—combined with acetaldehyde, ethanol's metabolic byproduct within the human body, would inevitably produce some adverse neurological effects.
Though he'd never had opportunity for hospital examination, even without aldehyde dehydrogenase deficiency, Glenn had refused to consume even a single drop of alcohol.
However, circumstances had fundamentally changed. While potential dangers still lurked in his vicinity, Glenn's capabilities and physical condition had evolved dramatically.
With his current enhanced physiology, consuming merely one glass... actually, one drop of butterbeer could be immediately metabolized without producing any detrimental effects.
More significantly, Glenn had recognized that his previous behavior had been somewhat dampening to social occasions, prompting his desire to make amends.
"I'll simply sample the flavor."
Glenn responded accordingly.
"Fair enough—off you go then."
Since the principal party harbored no objections, Hermione naturally had none either. Glenn turned and approached Madam Rosmerta to place their order.
Hermione's bright eyes tracked Glenn's movements until he returned bearing two glasses of butterbeer.
"Excellent work, young man. You didn't allow Madam Rosmerta to captivate your attention—though you weren't exactly looking with your eyes anyway—you've successfully passed the test."
The spirited girl patted Glenn's shoulder with appreciation and obvious relief.
Glenn appeared thoroughly mystified by this assessment.
Observing his confusion, Hermione raised her glass, beamed at Glenn, and extended her hand expectantly.
"Cheers!"
Glenn mirrored her gesture, raising his glass to clink against Hermione's.
Following the satisfying clink, the eager girl took a delicate sip of butterbeer and released contented humming sounds.
Butterbeer truly was delightful~
Glenn didn't immediately bring the glass to his lips for tasting. Instead, he employed magic to extract a minuscule droplet from within the glass, levitating it toward his mouth while simultaneously drawing his concealed dagger, prepared to deliver a sobering cut should alertness require maintenance.
The amber droplet entered his mouth, and Glenn briefly savored the flavor.
"Rather pleasant."
He returned the dagger to concealment and offered this measured evaluation.
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