"Exercise really does help you relax and feel good. That saying is absolutely right."
Glenn tilted his neck, producing a crisp crack, and stretched his body slightly. The irritation from Draco's interruption completely drained away.
Behind him, Draco lay gasping on the floor, his clothes obviously soaked through with sweat. The young dragon's usually slicked-back platinum hair was damp and clinging to his face.
"Yeah, sure... if only I didn't have to train... with you... it would be even better."
Draco's chest rose and fell dramatically as he replied breathlessly.
If Glenn's verbally assigned training plans were terrifying, then training with Glenn was pure hell.
And sparring with Glenn? That was like facing the devil himself in the depths of hell.
"No, this doesn't count as training together. I'm training; you're the training equipment."
Glenn said this with complete indifference, words that could only come from the mouth of a demon from hell.
"That's outrageous!"
Draco protested vehemently.
Checking the time—still an hour before the feast—Glenn decided to take a shower first.
A good shower after exercise could maximize the satisfaction gained from the workout.
"I'm leaving."
With that casual remark, Glenn turned and walked away, leaving only Draco on the floor, staring up at him with incredulous and resentful eyes.
"Heartless!"
................................................
After his shower, Glenn headed to the Great Hall.
Upon entering, he could see hundreds of pumpkin lanterns hanging from the ceiling, flickering with eerie light. Swarms of bats flapped their wings continuously, swooping and circling overhead, while numerous orange streamers spat out orange flames, drifting lazily beneath the ceiling like brilliant, languid water serpents.
Quite a few students had already gathered in the hall, though most were first- and second-years. Since these younger students couldn't visit Hogsmeade today, their only anticipation was for tonight's feast, so they'd arrived early to wait.
However, Hermione, a third-year, was already there, holding several small boxes and placing things inside them—presumably gifts she intended to give out.
As Glenn entered the hall, Hermione seemed to sense his presence and looked up. Spotting him, she raised her hand and waved with a smile.
Glenn sat down beside Hermione. The girl leaned over, closed her eyes, and sniffed one of his arms.
"Already showered?"
Catching the familiar fresh scent of body wash, Hermione released Glenn's arm and asked.
"Mm, I just finished training with Draco for a bit."
Hearing this, Hermione blinked.
"...Um, did he annoy you?"
"He kept trying to talk to me while I was disassembling and studying the Sneakoscope."
"Ugh, that's terrible."
"Which side are you referring to?"
"Both, but Draco deserved it."
Hermione shrugged and refocused on her task. Some of these gifts from Hogsmeade were meant to be sent out early—the adults at home had been urging her.
She should also send some to Granny Lin. They probably hadn't tried many magical sweets from Britain, so she'd send some magical trinkets from here as well...
Seeing Hermione busy with her own affairs, Glenn didn't intend to disturb her. He took out the disassembled Sneakoscope components from his black ring and began contemplating their structure and function, the correspondence between magic and effects.
Being able to continue the unfinished work that had been interrupted was also something that brought Glenn a touch of pleasant relaxation.
Hmm... thinking about it this way, he supposed he had made some progress. In his previous life, anyone who interrupted his work would have been shot dead. Now, after Draco had interrupted him repeatedly, Glenn had merely given him a beating.
That counted as progress, right?
Glenn shook his head, dismissing these irrelevant thoughts, and buried himself in his research.
When you're completely absorbed in something, time seems to pass much faster than usual. By the time Glenn next looked up, both the students and professors had all arrived.
Dumbledore's opening remarks were as brief as ever, and the feast had begun.
"Hermione."
Glenn placed his hand on Hermione's shoulder and gently shook her. She seemed to wake from a dream, pulling her head out of the sea of books.
"Huh? Oh, the feast has started."
Hermione quickly assessed the situation around her, put away her book, and smiled apologetically.
"You were so absorbed in reading that you didn't even notice when Lavender and I sat down beside you," said Parvati, who was serving herself food, with a helpless tone.
Hermione's habit of becoming completely oblivious to her surroundings once she started reading intensely wasn't new—everyone was more or less used to it, though it still seemed impressive no matter how many times they witnessed it.
"Sorry! Oh, that looks delicious, Lavender, could you get me one?"
"Alright, alright, little Hermione really knows how to boss people around. Here, catch!"
"What are you saying..."
Glenn had never been able to—nor wanted to—join in on the girls' conversations. He quietly helped himself and Hermione to food, eating slowly while habitually activating his enhanced senses to gather information and intelligence.
Information had a shelf life; every day brought new developments. Though the sensation of massive amounts of information flooding his mind wasn't particularly comfortable, Glenn had long since grown accustomed to it and could tolerate it, even finding enjoyment in the process.
"...But Harry, what did you do today while staying at Hogwarts?"
Neville's voice came from nearby, and Glenn directed part of his attention that way.
"Basically nothing much, but Professor Lupin called me to his office. He made me a cup of tea, but the important thing was that Snape came in afterward."
This was Harry's voice.
"He brought Professor Lupin some very strange potion, still steaming hot..."
Perhaps because of the unpleasant things that had happened to him recently, Harry shivered involuntarily when mentioning Snape's potion.
"Snape's expression always makes me feel like he wants to harm Professor Lupin."
"I remember he's always wanted the Defense Against the Dark Arts teaching position. Last year when he was substitute teaching, his mouth was practically stretched to his ears. This year, seeing another new professor take the post, he looks quite unhappy."
"You don't think—he's trying to poison Professor Lupin to usurp his position, do you?!"
Ron stopped chewing his chicken leg, the meat still in his mouth, and exclaimed in muffled terror with a horrified expression.
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