Chapter 13: Draco's Sneaky Business

"Due to an unfortunate incident involving our Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, Gilderoy Lockhart, he has requested a temporary leave of absence to recover in the school infirmary for approximately one month. For the next week, Professor Snape will be taking over his classes."

During dinner, after Glenn, Hermione, and the others had finished their first day of classes for the term, Dumbledore made this announcement in the Great Hall, his eyes carrying a hint of concern.

Glenn, expressionless, observed the headmaster, confirming that Dumbledore was only pretending to be worried.

Does Dumbledore even care about Lockhart?

That was a question for another time.

But for now, what was going on with Lockhart?

Glenn was puzzled. Judging by Lockhart's ridiculous performance earlier that afternoon, his skills were laughably poor. The fact that his wand had been physically disarmed by a pixie—Glenn had seen it spinning out the window with his own eyes—was downright embarrassing. And Lockhart's stunned expression in that moment only made it worse.

If Lockhart's abilities were truly that bad, then how could the contents of his books be explained?

Was he a fraud? Or was he hiding his true strength?

Glenn frowned. He had always disliked instability and the unknown—things that could lead to unexpected consequences.

"Maybe I should create some 'accidents' for Lockhart so that Professor Snape can permanently take over Defense Against the Dark Arts," Glenn mused as he ate his dinner.

If Lockhart were out of the picture, there would be no more surprises.

Certainty achieved.

Hermione, on the other hand, was quite pleased. She believed that having Professor Snape teach Defense Against the Dark Arts would undoubtedly be better than having Lockhart.

After today's events, Lockhart's image had plummeted to rock bottom in the young witch's mind.

Besides, Professor Snape had been eyeing this position for years. Letting him have a taste of it might even improve his mood a bit, so he wouldn't have to walk around with that perpetual scowl.

Hermione glanced at Professor Snape, who was eating silently at the staff table. A strange curve at the corner of his mouth betrayed his inner thoughts.

Hermione shivered and quickly looked away.

Ugh, that was unsettling.

Not far away, Harry, Ron, and the other boys who had often suffered under Snape's stern gaze were feeling conflicted. On one hand, they were relieved that they wouldn't have to see Lockhart's annoying face for a while. On the other hand, they dreaded the arrival of the "Snape nightmare."

Fortunately, Defense Against the Dark Arts was only held once a week. That meant they only had to endure three more classes this month. They could survive that, right?

This seemed to be the sentiment among most boys from houses other than Slytherin. In contrast, the Slytherins were practically ready to throw a party to celebrate the good news.

---

Apparently, Lockhart's stay in the infirmary was excellent news for everyone. The professors, who had been thoroughly annoyed by him, were noticeably more cheerful in the following days. Professor Sprout's warm smile returned, Professor McGonagall's temper cooled during lessons, and even Professor Snape—well, he was still his usual gloomy self, but Glenn and Hermione, who knew him well, could tell that he was in a relatively good mood lately.

"It seems like the professors were really fed up with Lockhart," Hermione muttered, now privately referring to him without the title of "professor."

The two were chatting as they walked through the corridors. It was the weekend, and most of the students had gone outside to enjoy the fresh air. Glenn and Hermione, however, preferred to stay in the castle and study.

Hermione didn't mind. After all, there was always more knowledge they deemed necessary to learn.

Just then, a sneaky figure caught Hermione's attention. The person was carrying several long objects and heading toward the dungeons.

Hermione squinted, focusing her gaze. Oh, it was Draco.

"He looks like he's up to something. Should we go say hello?" Hermione turned to Glenn for his opinion. She was curious but thought that calling out to Draco now might startle him.

Glenn, sensing Hermione's curiosity had been piqued, nodded in agreement.

As for whether Draco would be startled? That wasn't his concern.

"Draco Malfoy! What are you sneaking around for?" Hermione's clear, stern voice echoed through the corridor, startling Draco so much that he nearly dropped his bundle. But he quickly deduced the source of the voice. After all, he didn't know many girls, and this one was unmistakable.

It was Hermione.

And if Hermione was here, then…

Draco turned around and saw Glenn and Hermione walking toward him.

Of course Glenn was here too.

"I'm not sneaking around," Draco said helplessly. He had just received his package, and it was purely coincidental. Why did Hermione think he was being sneaky?

"I was just testing you. See, I call out to you, and you jump like that." Hermione explained calmly, a playful smile on her face.

Draco rolled his eyes. Seriously, Hermione? If someone suddenly shouted at you like that, wouldn't you jump too?

"But what's in the package?" Hermione's attention shifted to the bundle in Draco's arms. That was the real reason she had called out to him. "It looks like there's a lot in there."

"Oh, this?" Draco scratched his head. He had intended to keep it a secret weapon, not to be revealed to anyone—especially not the Gryffindors. But letting Hermione know should be fine; she'd keep it to herself.

Thinking about the contents of the package, Draco couldn't help but feel proud. He lifted his head and declared, "It's the latest model of broomstick, the Nimbus 2001! My father got it for me as a reward for becoming the Slytherin Seeker!"

Hermione, having little concept of broomstick models, was more intrigued by something else. "Seeker? You've been made the Slytherin Seeker? When did that happen?"

Draco nodded, then cast a somewhat resentful glance at Glenn, who remained indifferent. "I told you about this yesterday, Glenn. Didn't you tell Hermione?"

Glenn replied coolly, his expression as aloof as ever. "I knew, but you didn't ask me to tell anyone."

Draco clicked his tongue. Fair enough—Glenn wasn't the type to talk unnecessarily.

"But why are there seven brooms? One should be enough for you, right?" Hermione asked, puzzled. She had a vague idea of how expensive new broomsticks were. "Are the others for your teammates?"

Draco nodded. "Yes, my father is a governor of Hogwarts and a Slytherin alumnus. Since I was selected for the team, he decided to sponsor the entire Slytherin Quidditch team as a show of support."

Draco then turned to Glenn with a hopeful look. "Glenn, would you—"

"No," Glenn interrupted flatly, already knowing what Draco was about to ask.

The words caught in Draco's throat, and his expression froze.

The young Malfoy looked a bit aggrieved. All he wanted was to invite Glenn to join the Slytherin Quidditch team and help bring glory to their house.

Considering Glenn's physical abilities, skills, and control, it was clear that he would make an extraordinary Quidditch player.

"I'm not interested in Quidditch," Glenn said, shaking his head. "Don't bother asking—it's the fourth time already."

Hermione was surprised but not entirely. She hadn't expected Draco to try recruiting Glenn for the Slytherin team.

"Glenn really isn't into Quidditch. He usually just naps during matches," Hermione added, backing Glenn up and politely declining Draco's suggestion.

"I was just asking. If you're not interested, then forget it," Draco said, scratching his head. Still, he couldn't help but feel it was a shame. If Glenn joined the team, Slytherin would undoubtedly dominate every future Quidditch match. It was a missed opportunity.

"But can you two keep this a secret for now? I'm supposed to be Slytherin's secret weapon, and I don't want it to end up like last year with Potter. He was supposed to be a secret weapon, but by the next day, everyone knew he'd joined the Gryffindor team."

Draco decided to ask for their discretion, though he doubted either of them cared much about such things.

Glenn nodded, and Hermione did the same.

"Wait a minute," Hermione said, frowning as she realized something. "If your team has such top-notch equipment, doesn't that put Gryffindor at a disadvantage? It'll make it much harder for us to win!"

The young witch gave Draco a pointed look, making him squirm uncomfortably.

He chose to flee.

"Ahaha, you promised to keep it a secret, so stick to that! I don't care about anything else. Anyway, I've got to go. Bye, Glenn! Bye, Hermione!" Sensing the danger in Hermione's gaze, Draco cast a quick spell on himself and bolted down the stairs to the dungeons.

…

Hard. My fists are hard! 

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