Noontime always seemed exceptionally brief. Devereux stretched lazily, limbered up his joints, and mentally filed away Flitwick's strange behavior before planning to return to the laboratory to get back to work.
He gave his Wand a gentle wave, and a lunchbox materialized in his hand. Neatly arranged inside were several mutton pies, accompanied by a few hot dishes unique to Hogwarts, emitting an enticing aroma.
Devereux surveyed the lunchbox with satisfaction, a faint smile touching his lips. He had specially prepared this in the Great Hall just now—not for himself, but for a certain "special" someone.
Chapter 175