Days at Hogwarts

Loren suspected the next level of challenges wasn't ready yet—that Dumbledore was testing their "military intelligence."

In the original story, the levels were tailored to Harry, Hermione, and Ron's specialties. Now, it seemed the difficulty might be ratcheted up.

Who cared? Loren just planned to keep his hands in his pockets and skip this round. He laughed quietly to himself.

Harry remained silent nearby, his eyes fixed on the Mirror of Erised. Before, when he couldn't see the mirror, he'd let it go. But now that it was right there, he couldn't help but steal glances toward its corner.

Dumbledore noticed and spoke gently, "Harry, it's useless to indulge in illusory dreams and forget real life."

His words came neither fast nor slow, but each one seemed to pierce deep into Harry's heart.

A heavy silence fell. Dumbledore seemed to wait for them all to reflect.

Only Loren kept munching on his hazelnut chocolate, making soft chewing noises.

After a moment, Dumbledore smiled and said, "Alright, I think it's time for you to return. Otherwise, Neville might bring Minerva to trouble me later."

"Goodbye, Headmaster Dumbledore."

They stood hastily and walked back to the dormitory, a little dazed.

Harry wondered, Is Dumbledore criticizing me? He felt his constant staring at the mirror had disappointed the headmaster.

Loren yawned. "Don't overthink it. If he wanted to criticize you, he'd say it outright."

Harry said nothing; his mind kept spinning with thoughts.

Seamus snapped out of his daze. "Was this the night tour? Pretty exciting, but don't call me next time."

First, the ghost scared him, then they saw the three-headed dog, and finally ran into Dumbledore himself. It was thrilling but almost got him expelled. Neville was clearly more cautious.

The worst part? He couldn't brag about it to anyone. That was the most frustrating.

"We still don't know what the three-headed dog is guarding," Ron noted, realizing their night tour had failed its original purpose.

Loren scoffed arrogantly, "It's okay! There's still a chance!"

He left unsaid the rest: You guys can handle it next time on your own.

Friday morning's potion class was over, and the weekend of free time had begun.

In the afternoon, Loren took Hermione to the Room of Requirement to practice the Shield Charm.

"To be honest, I think we should wait until we're older to learn this spell. You're just wasting time now." Hermione frowned, trying to pull Loren away.

"It won't happen this time—I've improved a lot!" Loren recalled their last 22-0 record. That argument was hardly convincing.

Hermione smiled, recalling the previous experience fondly. "Okay, I'll follow your lead, Mr. 22-0."

"What weird things are you talking about? I don't get it."

"Mr. 22-0, Mr. 22-0..."

Even as they arrived at the Room of Requirement, Hermione found the nickname amusing.

Both stood still.

"Ready?"

"Ready!"

Their voices echoed in the duel room.

Hermione clearly felt Loren's progress. He could almost reliably cast a magic barrier that usually canceled out her spells, though sometimes it twisted unpredictably.

They spent the afternoon repeating spellcasting and dispelling. If Hermione had been practicing too, her binding spell would have surely leveled up several times.

"Petrificus," Hermione waved her wand casually.

At that moment, Loren felt a strange intuition and pressed his wand down slightly: "Protego."

Hermione's linear white light struck the tip of Loren's wand, hitting an invisible shield. The shield flickered, and the light rebounded, hitting Hermione instead.

Hermione tensed, clutching the edge of her pants, her face turning blue before she collapsed.

"My Armor Charm can deflect spells!" Loren cheered.

But then something more important awaited. Loren sat cross-legged beside Hermione and met her eyes.

"Ahem, Miss Granger, Loren Morgan has something to discuss. If you're willing, just move your eyes."

Hermione's glare was fierce and clear: Remove the curse or else!

Loren feigned waiting, then said, "Okay, Miss Granger agrees to talk. We have a deal—if you never mention the 22-0 thing again, I'll lift the curse."

After thinking for a moment, Loren added, "If you agree, just move your eyes."

He didn't pause this time. "Then it's a deal."

He spoke to himself, sealing the contract.

The price? Being beaten by Hermione all the way back to the dining hall.

In the basement, Loren met Snape every Friday, prepared for close encounters with toads, venomous snakes, and lizards.

Entering Snape's office, the professor was still marking homework.

Without looking up, Snape asked, "Tell me, what is the role of Two-Eared Grass in the Polyjuice Potion?"

This was from the book list Snape had assigned. Loren answered, "To connect with another person."

"What magical creature corresponds to the habits of the Bicorn?"

"Skinny cow."

The following questions covered the first few books in the list, and Loren remembered them well.

With each answer, Snape's tone grew less hostile.

"Loren Morgan, you're a scheming child. I gave you a random book list, and you took the chance to get close to me." Snape leaned back, as if dismissing the matter.

Loren said nothing. Silence was best here.

"You'd fit well in Slytherin. You could fully develop your potential here."

"I'm from a Muggle family, sir," Loren said calmly. "Gryffindor is good too."

Snape didn't pursue it. "Your information is flexible. Wolfsbane Potion hasn't changed for a long time—and it's expensive."

After a pause, Snape stood and led Loren to the storage room.

"I want you to learn potion-making with me. The potions you prepare over time will be used to pay off your debts."

Loren felt this was a bargain. A potion master's personal guidance was worth far more than the Wolfsbane Potion itself.

"I understand, Professor."

"It will take time to prepare the Wolfsbane Potion. Meanwhile, I'll write to my friend Damocles Belby for a finished batch. Those expenses will also be on you."

"I understand, Professor."

Snape dragged over two more boxes, and Loren's legs felt weak.

But this time, the boxes were filled with flowers. Snape pulled out a pair of ultra-fine tweezers.

"Tonight, you'll separate the stamens from these oozing flowers."

Loren stared at the tiny blossoms clustered like stars. There were more than a dozen clusters, each with nearly a hundred flowers.

Do I have to pluck each stamen with tweezers? I'll go blind!

"Professor, don't you have special magic for this?" Loren protested.

Snape didn't mention magic. "Oozing flowers are sensitive and fragile. Even the slightest misuse of magic ruins their medicinal properties."

Loren sighed, sat down, and began picking stamens. "Better this than extracting venom from green vipers."

Snape didn't look back, walking away. "Don't worry—you'll have a chance to deal with green vipers in the future."

Loren thought: I really want to slap myself twice!