Strolling…
or rather, patrolling up to the fifth floor, Lorin felt his stomach start to settle after the heavy meal, so he leisurely made his way back to his office.
“Good afternoon, Mr.
Weasley.”
“Oh, good afternoon, Mr.
Montmorency.”
Percy Weasley was rushing to his Charms class, his schoolbag slung over his shoulder, but he quickly stopped and returned Lorin’s greeting.
***
Turning another corner, Lorin spotted a hurried Hermione.
“Miss Granger, perhaps you should try to get a bit more sleep.”
Seeing Hermione’s bloodshot eyes, Lorin offered a gentle smile without probing further, simply handing her a packet of tissues.
“Th-thank you, Mr.
Montmorency…”
“You’re welcome.
Try to be a little easier on those around you—and of course, don’t let yourself suffer in silence either.”
Lorin gave her a wink and headed down from the fifth floor.
***
“Ah, Mr.
Potter, Mr.
Weasley, are you settling well into Hogwarts life?”
Just as he reached the fourth floor, Lorin ran into Harry and Ron rushing along.
“Uh…”
“Quite…
quite well, sir.”
“Good to hear.”
Seeing Ron’s stammering and Harry’s slight nervousness, Lorin smiled and continued toward his office.
***
Lorin usually greeted any students he met along the way.
After all, old Croke and Mother Breya had raised him to be polite.
Sitting in his office, another leisurely afternoon passed by.
He practiced *The Heavenly Scripture* and watched the magical projections cast by the Eye of Magic.
When he grew tired of practicing, he would browse some of the books from the Hogwarts library, which also proved highly beneficial.
An entire afternoon slipped away like this.
When he finally looked up, the setting sun was painting the sky.
“Strange.
Why does it feel like I’m living the life of a security guard from my past life…”
Lorin muttered to himself.
Still, it was a comfortable, cozy life, so he had no reason to complain.
“Well, Mother worried far too much about this.
Being the administrator of Hogwarts is actually quite relaxed!”
Stretching his limbs, he returned the book in his hand, *Dark Arts: Will and Soul*, to the shelf.
“It’s about time.
Let’s go get some dinner.”
Opening the oak door of the administrator’s office, Lorin made his way to the Great Hall with light, breezy steps.
Having lost track of time while reading, Lorin arrived a bit late for dinner.
At the staff table, only Severus Snape, Quirrell, and Professor Sprout were still eating.
Of course, at the house tables, quite a few young witches and wizards had already finished their meals and were chatting, enjoying their leisure time after a tiring day.
“You might not know this, but my father was actually planning to send me to Durmstrang!”
“Oh!”
A handsome young wizard with neatly combed blonde hair was bragging proudly at the Slytherin table: “You have no idea how cool Durmstrang is.
“Indeed.
However, Mr.
Malfoy, I wonder how you’d feel about a buzz cut?”
Lorin nodded as he walked past Draco Malfoy, offering a compliment with a smile.
“But if you want to be even more ‘Malfoy,’ perhaps Beauxbatons would be a rather excellent choice~”
Hearing Lorin’s words, Draco Malfoy looked a bit embarrassed at first, reflexively touching his neatly styled blonde hair.
Then, he offered a sheepish smile.
*Is Mr.
Montmorency complimenting me?*
*But he’s not even a professor.
Why am I so happy?*
*Whatever, I’ll tell Father and ask him what Mr.
Montmorency meant by that…*
“Mr.
Montmorency, I…”
“Hold on a moment, Mr.
Malfoy.
Perhaps you should let me get some dinner before you ask.” Lorin placed his index finger over his lips, gently silencing Draco Malfoy.
“Then once you’re finished eating, could we ask you a few questions?” Draco Malfoy looked at Lorin with anticipation, and several young Slytherins nearby joined him, staring at Lorin with wide, pleading eyes.
Well, Crabbe and Goyle were exceptions—Lorin actually had to strain a bit to see their eyes.
“Of course.
After dinner is indeed an excellent time for a chat.” Lorin nodded, not refusing them.
Leaving the Slytherin table, Lorin headed straight for the staff table to eat, ignoring the sudden, baffling cheers erupting behind him.
“Draco, that was so cool!
You’re practically Slytherin’s lucky star!”
“Oh, little Draco, if you ever need anything, just let me know!”
“Draco, I’m Marcus—Marcus Flint.
If you want to join the Quidditch team next year, just come find me!”
***
“Good evening, Severus, and Quirinus.”
Arriving at the staff table, Lorin greeted Severus Snape and Quirrell with easy familiarity, even though they weren’t particularly close.
“Hmm.” Professor Snape gave a very stiff nod by way of acknowledgement.
“G-good…
evening…
M-Mr.
Montmorency…” Quirrell stuttered as always.
Yet for some reason, when Lorin’s gaze swept over him, Quirrell reflexively adjusted his turban, which perpetually reeked of garlic.
Fortunately, Lorin quickly turned away to chat with Professor Sprout, letting Quirrell heave a sigh of relief.
*Phew, why does it feel like Montmorency can see right through me?*
“Idiot!
Your Occlumency is as terrible as a troll’s!” Voldemort roared furiously inside Quirrell’s head.
“Master…”
“Pomona, did your classes go smoothly this afternoon?” Since he was more familiar with Professor Sprout, Lorin’s greeting was much warmer and less formal.
“Of course, Lorin.
The children are all so lovely.” The kind, gentle Professor Sprout was clearly exceptionally patient with the young witches and wizards.
“I beg to differ, Pomona.” Snape’s expressionless face emerged from behind curtains of greasy black hair, his voice tinged with a mix of exasperation and speechlessness.
“You haven’t seen my Potions classes.
I honestly suspect teaching a class of trolls wouldn’t be half as exhausting.”
“Severus, you shouldn’t talk about the children like that.
They are still young!” Professor Sprout gave Snape a disapproving look, clearly disagreeing with his harsh assessment.
“Oh, Severus, they’ve actually done well enough.
You should learn to encourage your students.” When it came to teaching, Professor Sprout was entirely opposed to Snape’s high-pressure methods.
“Pomona, I believe I have been patient enough.
Perhaps you did not witness this afternoon’s first-year Potions class.” Snape’s eyes narrowed dangerously as he spoke.
“That Potter boy!
Aside from his eyes, he is nothing like Lily.
He is the spitting image of James!”
“And that Weasley boy next to him couldn’t even recognize armadillo bile!”
“Ah, and that Finnigan—in his very first class, he managed to use his cauldron to blow up his Potions professor!”
Just thinking about his Potions class made Snape’s temper flare.
Lorin watched the bickering with great interest.
Honestly, Severus was rather amusing when he was like this.
Seeing that Snape was on the verge of a real outburst, however, Lorin stepped in to smooth things over.
“Come now, Severus, Pomona.
Children are naturally full of innocence and wild imaginations.”
“Why don’t we allow them a few mistakes and tolerate a few blunders?”
“Of course, teaching must suit both your own rhythm and that of the young wizards and witches.
What do you two professors think?”
Professor Sprout nodded thoughtfully.
Even Professor Snape merely twitched his thin lips and chose not to argue.
“By the way, Severus, Pomona, have you both finished your dinner?”
“Of course.
Is something the matter, Lorin?”
“Yes.” Snape nodded stiffly, while Professor Sprout looked at Lorin with curiosity.
“I promised a few young Slytherins earlier that I would satisfy some of their curiosity.” Lorin said with a smile, smoothing back a few stray strands of his long hair.
“As for teaching, everyone should go at their own pace.”
“But once the students get here, there’s no need to bicker further.
It would only make a farce of us, wouldn’t it?”
“Mr.
Montmorency, I admit I held certain prejudices against you before.” Seeing a large crowd of students approaching, the socially anxious Professor Quirrell had already fled.
Snape, wrapping himself in a slightly threadbare, billowing black cloak, gave Lorin a deep look.
“However, you are indeed a good…”
“Administrator?” Lorin smiled, not letting Snape finish, and lowered his voice slightly.
“I only have about three years left to live.
Coming to Hogwarts was simply because I didn’t want my fiancée and parents to be heartbroken.
Perhaps it’s just a bit of selfishness on my part…”
“Merlin’s beard, Lorin!
You’re still so young!” Professor Sprout gasped, covering her mouth in shock, completely at a loss for words.
“Shh, it’s fine.
Perhaps my usual good luck will favor me yet.” Lorin remained smiling, appearing completely unbothered.
Snape’s retreating figure paused briefly.
He turned back and threw out a cold remark: “If Mr.
Montmorency doesn’t mind, I could take a look at you on Saturday evening and brew a few potions for you.”
“That is very kind of you, Severus.
Thank you.”
Whether Snape heard him or not, he swept out of the Great Hall like a giant bat, his cloak billowing behind him.
“Oh, by Merlin, that’s a lot of people!” Seeing so many students gathering—even the historically rival Gryffindor and Slytherin students mixing together—Professor Sprout quickly bade Lorin goodbye as well.
“I forgot I have to tend to the Whomping Willow.
See you tomorrow, Lorin!”