Chapter 32: Transformation

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Early in the morning, Draco Malfoy bolted upright from a nightmare, his face pale and his limbs flailing as he screamed in terror.

"Ahhh! Get away from me! Don't eat me! Go eat Longbottom instead!!!"

He gasped for breath, his chest heaving, still trapped in the lingering fear of his dream.

As his eyes adjusted to the familiar, cozy surroundings of the Slytherin dormitory, his panic gradually subsided. His tense body relaxed, and he slumped back onto his bed, letting out a bitter laugh—a laugh so pitiful it could break anyone's heart.

Only he knew how much he had been through these past few days.

Since the day he and Neville had teamed up to defeat that Acromantula, Glenn had officially taken them under his wing for training. He had crafted an intense and meticulous schedule tailored to their individual needs.

First on the agenda was their knowledge base. Glenn didn't demand much—just that they master every spell in The Standard Book of Spells: Grade 1 and be able to cast them instantly in real-life situations. On top of that, they were required to learn over twenty simple yet practical spells that Glenn had personally selected.

"Just kill me already! Are you even human? Fine, you win! I'll call you my big brother if it helps!"

Draco usually needed several days to practice and master a single spell, let alone use it proficiently. Now he was expected to learn all these spells within his first year? It was absurd.

Neville felt the same way. His talent for spellwork was even worse than Draco's. He was so afraid of failing that, more often than not, his fear became a self-fulfilling prophecy.

Glenn, however, was unmoved. "Aside from Sundays, you'll both accompany me to the Forbidden Forest every other night. Each time, the target I assign you will be tougher than the last. Learning these spells is what will keep you alive during these training sessions. It's up to you." With that, he ignored their complaints.

Fine. We'll learn. We'll learn, okay?

The two of them forced smiles that were more pitiful than tears.

This rigorous training left them with little time for anything else. Their daily workload became so overwhelming that they were often at their wits' end.

Fortunately, when it came to homework, Glenn had asked Hermione to tutor them.

Every day, Hermione would spare half an hour to explain the day's assignments to Neville and Draco. She always finished her own homework early and had an exceptional grasp of the material. However, her tutoring sessions were limited to thirty minutes, as she still needed time to read, practice spells, and spend time with Glenn. If Neville and Draco couldn't finish the rest of their homework, they were left to their own devices.

When it came to spellwork, the two struggling students began frequently seeking help from their professors. Fortunately, the professors at Hogwarts were kind and generous, patiently answering their questions in detail.

"Oh, that's an interesting spell. I've never heard of such a simple control spell before. Is this a secret passed down in your family, Mr. Longbottom? If so, I'd advise you to keep it confidential and not share it with others," Professor Flitwick said, adjusting his glasses as he marveled at a simple control spell Glenn had invented. He also took the opportunity to warn Neville, who had come to consult him.

Recently, Neville had brought quite a few spells to Professor Flitwick for guidance. Among them were one or two that the professor had never encountered before. After testing them, he was astonished to find that these spells were not only highly effective but also consumed less magical energy and were easier to cast compared to similar spells.

"If I'd known these spells when I was younger, I might've won a few more dueling championships," Flitwick thought regretfully. He enthusiastically explained the nuances of casting the spell, including the precise angle of wand movements and the details of pronunciation.

"Draco, learn as many of Glenn's self-created spells as you can. They'll benefit you immensely," Snape advised his godson seriously when Draco came to seek his guidance.

Of course, Snape himself had been eyeing Glenn's self-created spells for a while. These were spells Glenn had developed by studying the magical circuits of existing spells, making adjustments, and ultimately creating new ones.

Now that Draco was required to learn these spells and had come to Snape for help, it was the perfect opportunity for Snape to learn them himself.

Although Snape knew Glenn wouldn't refuse if he directly asked for lessons, his pride wouldn't allow it.

Ah, what luck! This was the perfect chance. Snape decided to ensure Draco learned as much as he could from Glenn, allowing him to benefit indirectly.

Brilliant. Simply brilliant.

Of course, Draco would gain plenty from this arrangement as well. With a hidden dueling master like Snape guiding him, how could Draco fail to master these small spells?

Standing behind Draco, who was seated and practicing the spell's intricacies, Snape suddenly grinned sinisterly. His cold gaze sent a chill down Draco's spine.

Draco shivered, feeling a strange coldness creeping up his back. He tightened his robe.

Weird. Snape's office wasn't usually this cold.

Shaking his head, Draco dismissed the irrelevant thoughts. He didn't have the luxury to think about such things now—he had another trip to the Forbidden Forest tonight.

At this thought, his eyes welled up with unshed tears, his heart heavy with grievance.

"This is just a step toward becoming stronger. I can do this. When the time comes, Potter will be at my mercy."

Draco steeled himself, finding motivation in the thought of tormenting Scarhead Potter and that Weasley pauper. This was his only solace in the grueling training under Glenn.

The changes in Draco and Neville were significant, but the transformation of Slytherin as a whole was even more striking.

The once arrogant snakes had noticeably toned down their behavior. Discrimination against Muggle-born wizards had significantly decreased, and they no longer used the derogatory term "Mudblood."

The lions, badgers, and eagles were baffled but deeply impressed.

"Did a troll hit them on the head? They're not causing trouble anymore!"

This sudden change was unsettling, leaving others unsure how to react.

Some Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws with Slytherin friends tried to pry for answers but learned nothing.

"What's gotten into them?" Harry wondered aloud. Recently, Malfoy had been bothering them far less, always rushing off after class. Harry found it unsettling.

"Just saying, I don't have any weird preferences, and I definitely don't like boys. Thank you very much."

"Haha, maybe someone finally taught them a lesson. They've always been so arrogant; it's about time someone knocked them down a peg," Ron said, his mouth full of chicken leg.

Neville, devouring his food silently nearby, gave Ron a peculiar look. Could this bushy-browed boy be a detective?

Since the older Slytherins' complete defeat in their duel with Glenn, a new ideology had begun to take root in the house that once revered pure-blood lineage.

"Strength above all."

Having lost to Glenn in both physical combat and magic, the pure-blood Slytherins were reevaluating their priorities. The concept of "strength" was quickly rising to prominence.

What Glenn hadn't expected was that instead of wallowing in resentment after their defeat, the Slytherins had turned their frustration into motivation, diving headfirst into a frenzy of learning and dueling.

The entire house was caught up in a whirlwind of self-improvement.

At the insistence of Slytherin prefect Marcus, Snape's office now hosted a dueling platform every Saturday night at 8 PM, exclusively for Slytherins to practice their combat skills. Rankings were established based on dueling prowess, determining one's status within the house.

The top spot remained vacant, reserved for Glenn. His overwhelming victory that day had earned their unwavering respect.

Though they repeatedly invited Glenn to join their internal duels, he declined, much to their disappointment.

Still, this didn't stop them from seeking Glenn's advice on spells whenever they could. If they managed to catch him, he would reluctantly offer guidance.

That was the key—if they managed to catch him.

Glenn was exasperated. While he didn't mind helping the enthusiastic Slytherins, it significantly cut into his own time for researching spells, practicing alchemy, and spending time with Hermione. As a result, he had taken to casting Disillusionment Charms on himself and Hermione immediately after class to avoid being swarmed.

Invisible beside him, Hermione gleefully patted Glenn, stifling her laughter. She had never seen him so flustered and was thoroughly enjoying his predicament.

Glenn, watching Hermione laugh without a care, pinched her cheek.

"Are you mad?" Hermione teased, trying to pry his hand away.

But she couldn't.

After a while, Glenn let go.

"No," he replied, his expression calm.

"Yeah, sure, not mad at all. But seriously, they've changed so much. At least they're not as insufferable as before. Still, if they keep this up, it's going to be even harder for us to win the House Cup." Hermione rubbed her cheek, pouting. Slytherin's newfound dedication to learning and dueling had made them stronger than ever, further diminishing Gryffindor's chances of victory.

Most of Gryffindor's points came from upperclassmen like Percy or from Hermione herself. The rest of the lions were too busy causing trouble, constantly losing points for the house!

We're doomed!

Hermione cast a resentful glance at Glenn. It was all his fault! If only he were in Gryffindor, none of this would've happened!

"What's wrong?" Glenn asked, puzzled.

The girl rolled her eyes.

"Nothing. I was just thinking—Christmas is coming soon. With just the two of us staying behind, how should we spend this special holiday?"