Chapter 39: Discoveries

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The Quidditch match between Gryffindor and Hufflepuff was approaching, and Gryffindor's training had become increasingly unbearable. Their captain, Wood, had imposed strict training regimens on the team. If they could defeat Hufflepuff in this match, they would have a great chance of beating Slytherin in the House Cup, ending their seven-year reign.

However, some "bad news" made the already nervous Gryffindor lions even more anxious.

"What? Snape's refereeing? We're done for! If we have any chance of beating Slytherin, he'll never judge fairly!" George, who had been pretending to fall off his broomstick to avoid training, actually did fall this time. Rubbing his sore bottom, he complained.

The young lions unanimously believed that Snape would favor Hufflepuff and target Gryffindor in his officiating.

Harry was the most terrified of all, as he was convinced that Snape wanted to harm him!

"He must have ulterior motives for wanting to referee!" Harry complained to his best friend Ron during dinner.

"I suggest you pretend to be sick and skip it," Ron advised, understanding the gravity of the situation.

"Or break your leg before the match, then you won't have to play," Ron seemed proud of his brilliant idea, giving a thumbs up.

Harry was speechless, completely dumbfounded.

What kind of unreliable suggestions were these?

Harry still had a sense of responsibility; he couldn't let Gryffindor play without a Seeker, especially since they had no substitute for that position.

He was quite depressed but had no choice but to play.

As a true Gryffindor, Harry had no shortage of courage. Come at me, Snape, if you want my life!

As the match drew closer, his anxiety grew, and Potions classes became even more unbearable. Every time he saw Snape, he felt those death-stare eyes fixed on him. Even with his back turned, Harry could feel Snape's gaze clinging to him like a persistent disease.

But the more Snape pressured him, the more Harry felt he couldn't give in.

The best way to face fear is to confront it!

Hermione watched peculiarly as Harry and Snape at the podium engaged in their intense staring contest, her expression growing strange.

Did these two have some sort of secret relationship?

She nudged Glenn, pointing at the scene unfolding before them.

Glenn shook his head, offering no comment.

He couldn't be bothered with such matters, as his mind was preoccupied with an incident from a few nights ago.

He had encountered Quirrell in the Forbidden Forest.

That night, Glenn had gone to the Forest as usual, searching for new dangerous magical creatures for his training. Since he was exploring different areas, he hadn't taken his usual familiar path but had chosen a different direction.

Something felt off that day. His head felt like it was being pricked by a needle, and the blood vessels in his forehead were throbbing. Glenn sensed a hint of danger.

Not taking any chances, he canceled his training plans for the day and leaped to the treetops, concealing himself.

He immediately activated his heightened senses and increased his magical output to seek information over a wider range.

Suddenly, with Glenn at the center, vast amounts of information from the Forest below flooded into his mind, pressing against his consciousness.

However, Glenn was already accustomed to this sensation. Even with the increased intensity of information gathering, he could endure the pain of his consciousness being washed by the information tide while continuously filtering out useful information to analyze the surrounding events.

"Crunch, crunch..." A strangely familiar yet eerie sound entered Glenn's mind, precisely captured by his senses.

Chewing sounds, liquid splashing...

He frowned slightly. These particular sounds...

They were the sounds of someone consuming meat.

When this out-of-place sound appeared in the Forest, Glenn decisively contracted his sensory range, transforming the spherical detection area into a straight line extending toward the source of the information.

A large mass appeared in his perception.

Not clear enough.

Glenn inserted his staff into the tree trunk, feeling the vibrations.

The image in his mind gradually cleared, and he finally perceived the full picture of that writhing mass.

It was a figure in black robes, hunched over a fallen corpse, continuously feeding on its flesh and blood. Crimson liquid constantly sprayed out, flowing along the corpse's curves and pooling on the ground.

Was that... a unicorn?

Glenn frowned. He knew well that unicorn blood contained powerful life force, but unicorns were the embodiment of purity. Once attacked and their blood forcibly taken, the pure creature would be defiled, causing their originally life-giving blood to gradually develop a powerful curse. This would condemn those who drank it to a living death.

Only when unicorns willingly offered their blood would it truly be a life-giving elixir. Otherwise, it became a terrifying curse to be avoided at all costs.

Only a complete fool would choose to slaughter a unicorn and steal its blood to restore life force.

Who was this person?

Glenn didn't try to get closer to identify them, despite his curiosity. He wasn't sure of their background, and the person drinking the unicorn's blood gave him an intense sense of danger.

He remained crouched on the branch like a statue, waiting for the person to finish drinking the unicorn's blood. His attention was completely focused on gathering information about the person's physical characteristics and movements.

Glenn planned to memorize their physical features and later investigate their true identity.

Time ticked by, and after the unicorn's silvery blood was completely consumed, the person finally moved.

After just a few steps, Glenn recognized who it was.

Well, well, if it wasn't Quirrell?

Glenn immediately matched the person's behavioral patterns with those of Quirrell, whom he had been observing more closely lately. The two figures gradually overlapped in his mind.

Glenn's expression grew increasingly serious. Quirrell's attempt to steal the Philosopher's Stone, which could produce the Elixir of Life, had already made him very vigilant and suspicious. Now, discovering him drinking unicorn blood with its life-giving properties almost confirmed Glenn's least probable but most dangerous theory.

The half-dead Voldemort had likely used some form of magic to either possess Quirrell or share his life force in another way.

Quirrell and Voldemort were sharing one body!

Glenn's killing intent grew stronger. He decided to suspend his regular training this term and instead stake out the Forest, waiting for Quirrell's next nighttime visit to attempt an assassination using his methods.

Glenn was well aware of his current abilities and position. He didn't believe he could easily kill Quirrell with Voldemort's help.

However, Glenn was confident that even if he couldn't completely kill Quirrell, he could at least incapacitate him. He had invested considerable effort and resources into one particular weapon, and now was the time to use it.

The hunter had found his prey and set the trap. Now, he only needed the prey to enter the stage.

Glenn silently sensed Quirrell's presence disappear from his detection range but didn't act rashly. He remained in place for an hour before returning to his dormitory.

He opened the door quietly without making a sound, but Draco on the nearby bed suddenly sprang up. Even though his mind hadn't fully awakened, his wand, which he never let go of while sleeping, was already pointing at Glenn.

Draco's vacant eyes instantly regained their focus, and upon seeing who had entered the dormitory, he let out a long sigh of relief, lowering his arm.

Glenn usually returned around dawn, but today he had come back much earlier. Sensing someone entering the dormitory at an unusual hour, Draco, whose reactions had become more sensitive after Glenn's training, was immediately awakened.

The little dragon had quite a start.

"Oh, it's just you, Glenn. Why are you back so early? You scared me," Draco wiped the cold sweat from his forehead before falling back onto his bed.

Over time, Draco had discovered that apart from when Glenn took him and Neville to train in the Forest, he was quite pleasant to be around. Moreover, Glenn was powerful, answered almost all their questions, and spared no expense in using expensive potions to treat their injuries.

He had come to consider Glenn a friend.

Seeing Glenn's usually rigid schedule change today, Draco asked with concern.

"There's danger in Hogwarts," Glenn said as he removed his equipment and stored it in his waist pouch.

"Danger?" Draco was confused. How could there be danger in Hogwarts?

He frowned and said to Glenn, "Should I tell my father about this? He's on the Hogwarts Board of Governors and can intervene in school matters. I can have him send people to protect us."

Glenn shook his head and explained the situation directly, though concealing the existence of the Philosopher's Stone.

Draco's face grew increasingly pale as he listened.

What?! The Dark Lord wasn't completely dead? He might be hiding in Quirrell? They were planning something dangerous in Hogwarts?

He should have been happy - the Dark Lord he had once admired wasn't dead and might be planning a comeback.

But now, standing on Glenn's anti-Voldemort side, he only felt waves of fear washing over him.

"Don't worry about these matters; you're still too weak. And don't let your father intervene," Glenn reassured Draco, mentioning Lucius briefly.

After all, Glenn planned to turn Lucius into a spy among the Death Eaters in the future; he couldn't let Voldemort think the Malfoy family was hostile to him.