BANG!

  A fsh erupted from the gun barrel, illuminating the white smiling mask beh the cloak's shadow. Red and white matter spttered across the surrounding wall.

  It had been a while since Glen's st visit to Knockturn Alley. He wore a new disguise, with his equipment pletely upgraded through alchemy and inscribed with various protective magical circuits.

  He was literally armed to the head.

  Quite literally to the head indeed.

  Glen had put tremendous effort into his mask. Made from the hardest material he could currently transmute through alchemy, it was inscribed with a series of stealth-oriented spells including presence elimination, perception blur, and facial restru. The process had left him bedridden for three days, rec his magic that had been nearly depleted.

  He had almost bee a Squib.

  Thankfully, the reliable Hermione had taken good care of him. What a dependable girl she was!

  Now with the holiday nearly over and his resources from the first half of the year almost depleted, Glen had finally found an excuse to e out alohout telling the little girl. Yet no sooner had he entered Knockturn Alley than he was ambushed by another would-be robber.

  Glen expertly ed up the se and looted the body, adding another wand to his colle - he now had over ten ownerless wands for daily use and research.

  Were all dark wizards this bold? What gave them the ce to attempt murder and robbery on an unfamiliar face? Was it Leann Rimes?

  Though perhaps these people were truly desperate.

  But what did that matter to Glen? If you choose to attack others, you should be prepared to face the sequences.

  Survival was cruel - it's either you or me.

  Glen.vinced.jpg

  Setting up his b in the bck market area, he began selling the various potions he'd accumuted over the past half year.

  He needed substantial funding now, not just for buying things for Hermione, but also for acquiring rare metals for his alchemy research. Mithril, with its mystical properties, articurly precious - despite spending a fortune in Galleons, he'd only mao obtain a small piece so far.

  His current daggers and e bdes were still too weak, requiring frequent rept.

  A night of chopping giant spiders would leave them blunted.

  Speaking of the Forbidden Forest's Aantus, Glen had noticed before leaving Hogwarts that they'd discovered their rapidly disappearing numbers. Their spider brains couldn't process much, so they'd resorted to sending out their weaker members in groups, f unication lines - if one was attacked, nearby spiders would rush to help.

  This made it troublesome flen to select teag materials for Neville and Draco.

  There were still some wild troll groups and Red Cap ies in the Forbidden Forest. He could try those instead.

  As Glen pondered, his potions sold one by one, filling his depleted coffers back up.

  After pg orders for metal materials at the shops in Diagon Alley, Glen prepared to head home. But in the Leaky Cauldron, he sensed a familiar presence.

  Quirrell.

  Like himself, Quirrell wore a bck cloak that shrouded him in shadows.

  Someone dressed like that sitting openly at a er table in the Leaky Cauldron might as well have "SUSPICIOUS" written on their face.

  But what about Glen? Wasn't he dressed the same way?

  No, no, no - he had removed his disguise as soon as he left Knockturn Alley. His attire was pletely different from when he'd first entered Diagon Alley and Knockturn Alley. After switg to another disguise, his mask's alchemically inscribed "itive interference" and "facial restru" spells - though still imperfect - altered his facial features and bearing. Unless someone knew him well, they couldn't see any resembo Glen's inal face.

  But that only worked on strangers. People familiar with him could still reize him if they looked carefully.

  These two spells were Glen's self-created, inplete versions based on his researto the magical circuits of the fundus Charm and human transfiguration spells. While he was quite profit with the fundus Charm, his human transfiguration was g - he could barely manage minor facial adjustments.

  Transfiguration really held him back, but Glen truly had no talent for it.

  Back to Quirrell - since firming his ill iions and his search for something at Hogwarts, Glen had bee wary of him. He o prevent any dangerous as that might threaten or actally harm the little girl.

  What about Quirrell's actual goal? That wasn't Glen's .

  He tinued Quirrell's behavior patterns, including his stride frequency, step length, height, arm span, body type, and other external human characteristics.

  His observations further firmed that Quirrell was hiding something.

  Quirrell utting on an act - his every movement was fabricated, but they were transparent to Glen's rich experiend enhanced perception.

  Human disguises are always less natural than normal behavior. Even master imposters leave traces. As someone who had successfully pleted various infiltration and assassination missions in his previous life through disguise teiques, Glen was clearly a master of deception, and he uood the limitations of these skills.

  Through daily observation, Glen had stripped away Quirrell's disguises yer by yer, memorizing his true physical characteristio new disguise could fool Glen now.

  Currently, Quirrell sat with his hands csped, fingers occasionally stretg and curling, his ls restless against the floor. The hooded head slightly turned from time to time, the surroundings.

  He seemed to be anxiously waiting for something.

  Glen was in no hurry to leave. He approached the ter, ged his voice to greet old Tom, paid for an iced lemon water, and sat down in a crowded area. Casually crossing his legs, he preteo read today's neer while secretly expanding his enhanced perception to cover Quirrell's er.

  Soon, Glen's eyebrows raised as Hagrid's preseered his perceptual range.

  Hagrid was ing from Diagon Alley, carrying various items, some of which could only be found in Knockturn Alley.

  Glen keenly noticed Quirrell's posture ge - his feet stopped fidgeting as he slowly stood up, but hesitated to approach, seemingly p how to naturally start a versation with Hagrid.

  He o appear natural; even someone as thick as Hagrid would grow suspicious otherwise.

  After all, these were sensitive times, and even the simple-minded giant would maintain some vigince.

  Hagrid tinued walking without pause, heading straight to the firepce during Quirrell's moment of hesitation, and used the Floo powder.

  "Hogwarts," he said, and his massive frame disappeared in the green fmes.

  Quirrell: ...

  He raised his hand slightly in futile restraint, finally shaking his head and colpsing bato his chair.

  "So Hagrid's the target?" Glen pondered, tinuing to sip his iced lemon water through a straw ied through his mask's mouth hole.

  "He wants to extraformation from Hagrid, probably about dealing with the three-headed dog behind the fourth-floor corridor door." sidering Hagrid's e to the three-headed dog and Quirrell's objective, his purpose became obvious.

  Having seen enough and finished his drink, Glen stood up ahe Leaky Cauldron.

  He made a mental o warn Hagrid wheurning to Hogwarts, given how the giant seemed to have been raised oaserum - Glen firmly believed this rumor.

  Glen reached an open area and raised his wand.

  With a "BANG," the Knight Bus arrived promptly.

  Though the ride was extremely unfortable, it was undeniably ve. When not traveling with Hermione, Glen preferred the Knight Bus's speed over ventional transportation.

  By early evening, near diime, Hermione pushed open her front door with her backpack. Glen had almost finished preparing a sumptuous dinner.

  While Glen was at Diagon Alley, the little girl had no other pns and spent a rare day at the town library, enrig her knowledge. Glen had seriously told her that both wizarding and Muggle knowledge were important to learn - mastering both was the best approach. Although mystical powers seemed more powerful now, Glen, living in the 21st tury, knew well that teological power and human development couldn't be uimated. Each had its merits, but undeniably, while ower development had stagnated for long, Muggle teology was advang rapidly. It was impossible to judge which was superior.

  So why not master both?

  That was the assertion of Hermione "Academic Elite" Granger and Glen "Barely Academic Elite" Hawthorne.

  Satisfied after abs knowledge all day at the library, Hermiourned home and thhly cuddled Crookshanks, who had e running at the sound of his little master's footsteps. Glen's voice called from the kit: "Last dish ing up, go wash your hands first, it'll be ready soon."

  Hermione kicked off her shoes and ran to wash her hands in her white stogs. Whe obediently at the dining table, Glen emerged from the kit in his apron, carrying a steaming dish.

  She naturally took the dish, and after Gleurned from the kit with bowls and chopsticks, the two humans and o began their meal. Hermione shared what she had learned from books today, while Glen offered his perspectives on this knowledge.

  When they were together, it seemed their topics would never end.

  "Tomorrow's the end of the holiday, time really flies," Hermione said, sitting backwards in her chair watg Glen wash dishes.

  She wao help with the dishes, but Glen had refused, g that dishwashing liquid would damage her skin. So she could only wait outside to keep him pany.

  "Once we're back, exams will be ing up soo's pete again to see who get first in the year," the little girl said, pumping her fist enthusiastically, even though exams were still more than ten weeks away.

  "Mm, so what are the rules this time?" Glen asked as he pced the dishes on the rack. In their occasional petitions, they always let Hermiohe rules, like reward and punishment systems.

  It could be uood as their little couple's game.

  "Haven't thought about it yet, maybe just like before - whets first pce ask the other to do ohing," Hermione replied, fidgeting with her fingers.

  "Like before?" Glen asked.

  "Mm, like before," Hermione smiled.