Dinner ended quickly, and the two left Hogwarts castle for their pre-selected location in the Forbidden Forest.
After all, today's most crucial task remained performing the second step of the Animagus transformation. If tonight's mission had failed, so be it—that was merely a chess piece placed in passing. The real main event was here.
For this, both had made exhaustive preparations.
Hermione had used magic and her extensive knowledge to analyze the optimal location for the second step, considering every environmental factor imaginable.
They needed the purest full moon illumination, which meant no obstacles could block the light from above, and the night couldn't be cloudy. Hermione had determined through Arithmancy and meteorological analysis a month ago—before they'd placed the Mandrake leaves under their tongues—whether tonight would be clear. She'd also cast weather charms daily during this period, fine-tuning the atmospheric conditions to ensure perfect skies.
The potion mixture required for the second step needed to rest undisturbed in a quiet, dark place, protected from prying eyes and interference. Burying it beneath the soil of the uninhabited Forbidden Forest was obviously ideal. Hermione had even purchased premium fresh meat from Hogsmeade during their monthly visits to see Norbert with Hagrid, bribing the dragon to guard their buried potion mixture during her leisure hours.
The preparations were absolutely flawless.
While Hermione ensured environmental perfection, Glenn had naturally prepared all materials for the potion mixture.
The crystal vials to contain the potions required no explanation—Glenn had crafted them himself using advanced alchemical techniques, creating two natural crystal bottles perfect in both form and clarity. So exquisite that Hermione declared she'd keep them as treasured mementos after consumption.
Next came a teaspoon of dew per person, collected from places untouched by sunlight or human contact for seven full days. Glenn had scouted dew-gathering locations weeks in advance, timing everything with mathematical precision. He'd calculated movement speeds down to the millisecond, obtaining and sealing the freshest dew exactly 604,800,000 milliseconds after clearing the previous collection.
Finally, the death's-head hawkmoth pupae. These moths were widely distributed across Asia, with substantial populations in southern China's low-to-medium altitude regions. Winter was precisely when the larvae pupated, ensuring fresh materials. Glenn had enlisted his grandparents in China to select and purchase two pupae of the highest quality—reportedly from moths that had pupated in the same chamber.
To secure these materials, Glenn had sacrificed his Christmas holiday, remaining at Hogwarts instead of joining Hermione's family celebrations. He'd asked her to carry his love and companionship to their elders in his absence.
This decision had left him melancholy, but Hermione's swift return to comfort him had restored his spirits entirely.
Otherwise, Glenn might not have bothered protecting those Aurors with alchemical devices during tonight's mission—he'd have simply let the irrelevant fools perish in the forest fire.
This painstakingly prepared Animagus transformation absolutely had to succeed.
The remaining materials—hair and saliva—could be collected immediately.
"What's wrong, Hermione? We can begin."
Glenn had already removed the Mandrake leaf from his mouth, placing it carefully in his crystal vial. He lowered his head, pressed the bottle rim against his lower lip, and relaxed his oral muscles, preparing to collect saliva. Seeing Hermione hesitating with downcast eyes, he asked with gentle confusion.
"...Um, could you turn away? Having you watch me collect saliva is rather embarrassing."
"You could have mentioned this earlier," Glenn said with mild amusement. "The faster we saturate the Mandrake with saliva, the better."
"How could I possibly bring myself to say something so mortifying without being asked!"
"Fair enough."
Glenn turned away respectfully. Hermione's face flushed prettily in the moonlight before she bent to her task, collecting saliva in dignified silence.
Collecting saliva proved entirely different from mere spitting. They had to wait for natural secretion, allowing it to flow slowly into the crystal vials until the Mandrake leaves were completely submerged—a surprisingly time-consuming process.
To ease the awkward silence, Hermione gradually backed against Glenn's shoulders, seeking comfort in his warmth.
Glenn adjusted his posture accommodatingly, ensuring her comfort as they leaned back-to-back beneath the winter stars, sharing body heat and quiet companionship.
The seemingly endless wait passed in what felt like moments, both finishing their collection almost simultaneously.
"This should be complete," Hermione announced, holding her saliva-filled vial toward the brilliant moonlight for detailed inspection.
"Indeed. Now for the hair."
Glenn raised his vial alongside hers, both crystal bottles catching the silvery illumination.
With swift, precise movements, they each severed a strand of hair with small daggers, dropping them into their respective vials.
"Next... the dew."
Hermione produced a delicate teaspoon, allowing Glenn to measure the precious dew before carefully pouring it along the vial's inner wall.
"Finally, the death's-head hawkmoth pupae."
Glenn withdrew an exquisite wooden box from his enchanted ring. Opening it reverently, he removed one of two pupae, offering it to Hermione while claiming the second.
Both placed their pupae into the crystal vials and sealed them with ceremonial care.
"Perfect," Hermione breathed, wiping imaginary perspiration from her brow. She examined her completed vial with profound satisfaction, clearly pleased with their ritual's execution.
Glenn located their chosen burial site, using magic to excavate the earth with surgical precision.
"Don't forget the final step."
"Do I look like an amateur?" Hermione retorted with mock indignation.
They knelt side by side at the pit's edge, placing their crystal vials within—two perfect vessels resting together like devoted companions.
"Look," Hermione whispered wonderingly, "our vials mirror us perfectly."
"They do indeed."
"Glenn... do you truly believe we'll succeed?"
"Without question."
"Such unwavering confidence," she murmured fondly. "So perfectly you."
As they spoke, enchanted soil flowed back into the pit, entombing their precious vials in protective darkness. Now they could only wait for the next thunderstorm to complete their transformation into something magnificent and wild.
The moonlight seemed to bless their endeavor as the final grains of earth settled into place.
~~~~❃❃~~~~~~~~❃❃~~~~
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