Chapter 33: Christmas is Coming

In the blink of an eye, mid-December had arrived, and the students at Hogwarts were eagerly counting down the days until their holiday break began.

Snow had started falling a few days ago, and now it blanketed every exposed surface in thick layers, piling up several feet deep. Even the dark and foreboding Forbidden Forest was covered in a pristine layer of white, making it appear slightly less intimidating during the day.

The Potions classroom, however, remained as cold as ever. But what did that matter to Glenn and Hermione?

Their alchemic heating device was working perfectly.

"Well, that concludes today's lesson," Snape announced with his usual sneer. "I hope that when you return from Christmas break, your intelligence hasn't dropped below that of a troll."

This was their last class before the holidays, marking the start of a three-week vacation.

The Gryffindors couldn't be bothered by Snape's sarcasm. They cheered loudly, shouting "Woo-hoo!" as they bolted out of the classroom one by one.

After all, who would willingly stick around to see the old bat after class?

Glenn and Hermione would.

"Professor! You're not planning to give us potions as Christmas gifts again this year, are you?" Hermione teased as she dragged Glenn to Snape, who was tidying up his desk.

Snape glanced at her briefly and smirked. "Oh? Does Miss Granger have an issue with my gifts? I didn't expect Gryffindors to be so rude. Treating a gift-giver like this... Hmph. My suggestion is that you both stay behind for detention instead of going home for Christmas."

Glenn blinked. Both of us? Professor, what did I do to you?

Hermione was unfazed by Snape's venomous tone and retorted boldly, "Of course not, Professor. You're my beloved Potions Master. How could a humble little witch like me dare to question your choices? I was just curious, that's all. Those potions are quite precious, after all. How could I possibly dislike them?" She then switched to a different tone and continued, "You already know what Glenn's gift for you is. Why don't you take a guess at mine?" Hermione raised an eyebrow at Snape, her expression playful and challenging.

"Do I even need to guess? Knowing you, Miss Know-It-All, your gift is probably a book. What else could it be?" Snape replied dismissively, clearly uninterested in humoring her.

"Not this time! This year's gift is something I made myself. Honestly, Professor Snape, you thinking so little of me is quite hurtful."

Snape didn't look up, but his ears perked up ever so slightly.

Hermione pouted. "Fine, I'll just tell you. This year's gift is…"

She deliberately paused for a long moment, leaving Snape waiting.

Irritated, Snape finally looked up. "If you're going to say it, then say it. If not, leave at once."

But his gaze only met the sight of an empty Potions classroom.

"…" Snape's lips twitched, and a vein throbbed on his forehead.

He really, truly hated that brat!

"Happy Christmas, Professor Snape!" Hermione's head popped out from behind the doorframe, her face glowing with a mischievous grin.

Glenn's head appeared above hers, and he added sincerely, "Happy Christmas, Professor Snape."

The two waved at him before disappearing from view.

Snape turned his back to the door, the corners of his mouth curling upward ever so slightly.

"Hmph."

"Was it really necessary to get back at Snape before leaving?" Glenn asked as he walked alongside Hermione in the corridor. During class, Hermione had raised her hand to answer a question, only to be deliberately ignored by Snape. The girl, who never forgot a slight, had taken out her notebook, flipped to a specific page, and began scribbling furiously while muttering under her breath.

"December 23rd: Professor Snape ignored my answer for the 53rd time."

She snapped the notebook shut with a huff and tucked it back into her bag.

This grudge, she would remember.

"Of course it was necessary! Anyway, let's not dwell on that. We still need to decide how we're going to spend the next three weeks. There are a few days we haven't planned yet, and we need to finalize everything tonight!" Hermione waved a hand dismissively, signaling Glenn not to worry about such trivial matters.

"I'm not too concerned about the details. I'm fine with anything, as long as I'm with you. You can decide everything."

Hermione blushed and punched him lightly on the arm.

Glenn blinked, confused. Did I say something wrong? Was it the part about leaving the decision to her? Or could it be the part about being fine as long as we're together? Well, considering our parents aren't around, it's only natural for me to stay by her side to ensure her safety.

He couldn't figure it out.

"Glenn, look ahead," Hermione said, tapping his shoulder and motioning for him to focus forward.

Hagrid, carrying a massive tree, was walking toward them, accompanied by Harry and Ron.

"Hello, Hagrid! Is that a Christmas tree on your shoulder? Do you need any help?" Hermione greeted Hagrid cheerfully, apparently not noticing the two boys hidden behind his enormous frame.

Glenn and Hermione had a good relationship with Hagrid. Hermione, in particular, had become quite fond of him after sampling his infamous rock-hard rock cakes. Recently, she had even started bringing recipes to Hagrid, joining him in experimenting with cooking.

After all, she couldn't outright tell Hagrid that his cooking was terrible, especially since her own cooking wasn't much better. She had been secretly practicing in the Room of Requirement whenever she had free time.

Glenn had discovered her secret.

Once caught, Hermione decided there was no point in hiding it anymore, especially since she was learning to cook for him in the first place. Still, she felt embarrassed about her lack of skill.

Even she thought her cooking was awful.

But ever since Glenn found out, every dish she made ended up in his stomach.

This touched Hermione deeply and strengthened her resolve to one day cook something truly delicious for him.

Glenn, however, simply thought it would be a waste to throw food away. In his previous life, during tough times, he had been grateful for anything edible, regardless of taste or texture. To him, wasting food was shameful.

And so, Glenn became the official taste tester for both Hermione and Hagrid. His evaluations were always honest and straightforward. While most of his feedback was still negative, both chefs were improving noticeably, and Glenn's comments were becoming increasingly positive.

Of course, this progress was partly thanks to Glenn's occasional guidance.

To Glenn, cooking was no different from brewing potions. As long as you understood the properties of the ingredients, you could combine them effectively.

Naturally, his theory was rejected by the two chefs, who insisted that the best food was made with heart and soul.

Glenn stared at the two plates of charred food in front of him, expressionless, as he ate them.

"A bit more bitter than last time, but overall, an improvement," he commented.

Sure, sure. Whatever you say.

Back to the corridor.

Before Hagrid could refuse Hermione's offer to help, she had already raised her wand, standing on tiptoe to point it at the fir tree on his shoulder.

"Wingardium Leviosa," she said gracefully, her small hand flicking her wand with the elegance of a conductor. The tree immediately became weightless, floating effortlessly. Hagrid felt the burden on his shoulder vanish.

"Oh, thank you, Hermione! That was some fine spellwork," Hagrid said, chuckling as he scratched his head.

It was only then that Hermione noticed Harry and Ron standing beside Hagrid.

"Oh, it's you two. I didn't see you there," she said, her tone casual as she greeted them. Though she had forgiven Ron for his hurtful words during Halloween, she had since kept her distance from their little group, maintaining only a polite, friendly relationship.

Harry and Ron, however, hadn't noticed the change. They assumed Hermione had moved past the incident.

Ron had never apologized for his behavior, but since Hermione no longer brought it up, they figured it was water under the bridge. Besides, Glenn had already scolded them thoroughly back then.

To them, it was all in the past.

What they were more concerned about now was asking Hermione if she knew anything about Nicolas Flamel.

Yes, even after all these chapters, they hadn't let it go.

They had tried searching the library for information, flipping through thick, heavy tomes, but found nothing. After failing to uncover even a trace of Flamel, they had given up.

With their homework already consuming all their energy, they simply couldn't spare the time to dig through more books.

Since Hagrid refused to tell them anything, they doubted any other professor would, either.

Their only hope was Gryffindor's brightest witch, Hermione Granger.

But to their frustration, they could only catch glimpses of her during class or at meals, where she always sat with her dormmates—and Glenn. They couldn't exactly approach her with Snape's favorite student sitting right there. He'd probably sell them out in an instant!

Day after day, they found no opportunity to ask her. But now, by some stroke of luck, they had run into her after class. Harry and Ron's eyes lit up.

Finally! A chance to ask!

They failed to notice Glenn standing beside Hermione, partially obscured by Hagrid.

"Her—" Harry began excitedly as he stepped around Hagrid, only to freeze in horror when he saw Glenn.

What the—why are you here?!

"Her… hehe… What a nice day it is, don't you think, Ron?" Harry stammered, scratching his head awkwardly. He quickly turned around, clamped a hand over Ron's mouth, and dragged him away.

"?" Hermione was baffled. What on earth were those two up to? She had heard from her dormmates that Harry and Ron had been trying to find her recently. But since she had been sneaking off with Glenn after every class, she hadn't had time to deal with them.

"They probably have something to say to you," Glenn speculated.

"Hmm, probably nothing important. If it were urgent, they could've just called me during meals."

"Forget it. Let's go, Hagrid." Dismissing the incident, Hermione guided the floating fir tree toward the Great Hall.