Loren sat down at the Gryffindor table, greeted warmly by the older students around him. The twins in particular praised him greatly for what he had done earlier.
He responded politely to everyone and turned his eyes back to the Sorting, watching one young wizard after another be placed into their houses. Soon, it was Hermione's turn.
She walked calmly to the Sorting Hat and sat gracefully on the stool, putting it on her head. Compared to the hurried rush in the original story, her movements were far more elegant.
"Gryffindor," the Sorting Hat announced after sitting on her head for several minutes.
Just like in the original, Hermione was sorted into Gryffindor, though Loren's presence here had weighed heavily on that outcome.
Amid cheers, she quickly sat down next to Loren, her face flushed pink, looking very cute.
Loren naturally reached out and took her hand, making her blush even more. Gryffindors who saw the scene either gasped or laughed. Embarrassed by the teasing, Hermione buried her face into Loren's chest, which only made the noise around them louder.
Loren paid no attention to it, holding Hermione in his arms while continuing to watch the Sorting. Soon, Neville's turn came.
Just like in the original, he tripped in front of the stool, but once the Hat was placed on his head, it immediately shouted "Gryffindor!" Then, also just like before, Neville ran toward Loren's side still wearing the Hat, and amid a wave of laughter, returned it to Professor McGonagall.
When Neville finally sat on Loren's other side, his face was red—whether from running or the laughter directed at him wasn't clear. Loren figured it was simply that Neville's physical endurance was far too weak and needed work.
"Neville, your idea of bringing Gryffindor's Hat back to the House is good. But remember, the Sorting Hat belongs to all four Houses now. Still, you might try searching for Gryffindor's Sword instead. I know it's here in the castle. Bringing that back to Gryffindor would be far more meaningful."
Everyone around them had heard Loren's words. They stopped laughing and looked at Neville with admiration instead. The twins even ran over and offered to take him exploring that very night to find the sword, claiming they knew the castle well.
But Percy overheard them. His murderous glare locked onto the twins, and feeling the weight of it, they laughed awkwardly and slinked back to their seats.
Neville whispered a quiet "thank you" to Loren for saving him from embarrassment.
Loren waved it off casually, signaling it was nothing, and returned his eyes to the Sorting.
Just like in the original story, Draco was sorted into Slytherin, and the Hufflepuff students all booed loudly in protest.
After a few more students, the hall rang with murmurs as Harry Potter's name was called. Everyone whispered about the "Boy Who Lived."
A short while later, the Sorting Hat made the same choice as in the original.
"Gryffindor!"
The Gryffindor table erupted with the loudest cheers yet. When Harry joined the table, Percy stood up to shake his hand firmly, while the twins shouted:
"We've got Potter! We've got Potter!"
Harry finally sat down beside Neville, glancing at the teachers' table before turning his attention back to the Sorting. Only three students remained—his first friend, Ron, among them.
After the third-to-last student was placed in Ravenclaw, Ron stepped up. The moment the Hat touched his head, it shouted:
"Gryffindor!"
Ron slumped down beside Harry, who clapped and cheered along with the rest.
"Well done, Ron, excellent!" Percy said across Harry. He had been worried Ron might end up in Hufflepuff, but now he could relax.
When the last student was sorted into Slytherin, Professor McGonagall rolled up her parchment, picked up the Hat, and left.
Then Albus Dumbledore rose to his feet, smiling broadly at the students, opening his arms wide.
"Welcome! Welcome to Hogwarts for a new year! Before we begin our feast, I'd like to say a few words. And here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak! Thank you!"
He sat back down.
At that very moment, Loren felt a wave of magic spread outward from the castle, blessing everyone in the Great Hall.
While he was observing the flow of that power, the table in front of him filled with food: roast beef, roast chicken, pork chops, lamb chops, steaks, sausages—typical British fare, but piled in such quantity and variety that it was still overwhelming to see.
As Loren began to enjoy his feast, Nearly Headless Nick suddenly rose up from beneath the table. Clearly, the ghosts had been busy with something else and had only now come to the hall.
The sudden appearance caught the attention of the first-years. Harry, Ron, and several others eagerly struck up a conversation with the ghost.
Loren found the specter interesting too, but food came first. He had seven years here—plenty of time to study ghosts. They weren't going anywhere.
Once he was full, dessert arrived. Loren had little taste for overly sweet treats, so he chose a pudding and joined the conversation among the students.
The topic turned to their family backgrounds. After Neville finished, Loren shared a bit about his and Hermione's origins.
But the more they listened, the more the others frowned. Even nearby upper-years stopped eating their desserts, muttering that they were too sweet, though clearly it wasn't the desserts that had soured their mood.
Suddenly, a cry cut through the chatter.
"Ouch!" Harry clutched his forehead.
Ron, sitting beside him, immediately asked with concern:
"What is it? Did candle wax drip down on you and burn you?"
At that, every first-year looked nervously upward at the floating candles, fearing they might be next.
The older students, however, covered their mouths to stifle laughter, while Percy held his head in his hands, mortified by his brother's foolishness.
"No, Ron," Harry said as the pain faded and he lowered his hand. "It wasn't wax. I was looking at the teachers' table, and suddenly my scar hurt."
Loren leaned in to help him analyze.
"That scar was left by the Dark Lord. From what I know, only two people up there are tied closely to him. One is Headmaster Dumbledore—Voldemort's greatest fear. The other is the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. I heard in Diagon Alley that Voldemort once sought that very post himself but was rejected several times by Dumbledore. In anger, he cursed the position. Since then, no one has ever managed to teach the subject for more than a year."
The surrounding older students all heard Loren's explanation and quickly began discussing the past professors. After exchanging memories, they realized he was right—none had lasted more than a year, most leaving injured or dead. Only a very few had made it to the end of the year safely.
"So you think the curse is what affected me," Harry asked Loren.
"Yes. That's very possible. They're both tied to Voldemort. Magic works in mysterious ways," Loren concluded, gently steering Harry toward the right suspicion.
"My advice: keep your distance from the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. That curse is dangerous for you to be near. And anyone who dares to apply for that post under such conditions is no ordinary person."
As they spoke, Dumbledore rose once more, announcing a few school rules and reminders. This time Harry didn't hang on the Headmaster's words like in the original story, but instead pondered Loren's.
"Now, before bedtime, let us sing the school song together!" Dumbledore declared.
He flicked his wand, and a long golden ribbon unfurled from its tip, twisting above each table like a serpent, forming glowing lines of text.
"Choose your favorite tune and… sing!"
He began to conduct.
The students sang in a jumble of mismatched melodies. Loren chose to sing it to the tune of "Exploring the Clear Water River," which came out awkwardly mismatched. For a moment, he even imagined belting out "Exploring Hogwarts" instead, but quickly pushed that suicidal thought down.
When the twins finished the song in the mournful rhythm of a funeral march, Dumbledore declared the feast over and instructed the prefects to lead the first-years to their dormitories.
The Gryffindor first-years followed Percy through the castle, climbing staircases, passing corridors, slipping through hidden doors, and climbing again.
All the while, Loren kept his eyes on the portraits. They would be an important subject of his research later.
As he was deep in thought, the line stopped. Loren looked ahead and saw the cause—Peeves the Poltergeist blocking the way while Percy tried to reason with him.
Loren's gaze locked tightly on Peeves. Here was a far better research subject than the ghosts. Peeves must have sensed the danger—he dropped his walking stick and bolted straight through a wall.
Percy took the chance to warn the first-years about Peeves and continued leading the group forward. Before long, they reached the end of the corridor.
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