“Mr.
Montmorency, we saw that you finished eating, so…”
Watching Professor Sprout depart, Lorin still hadn’t quite grasped what was happening.
But when he turned around, he saw Draco Malfoy’s slightly shy, sheepish face.
Malfoy wasn’t the issue.
The issue was the massive, swarming crowd behind him!
*By Merlin, did Malfoy call over half of Hogwarts?!*
At this moment, Hogwarts’ “fine tradition” was on full display.
Half an hour ago, only Draco and a few nearby young Slytherins knew that Lorin was going to hold a small gathering to talk about things everyone was curious about.
Yet now, a sea of faces—estimated to be several hundred strong—stared at Lorin with pure anticipation.
Although most were young witches, Lorin still spotted quite a few familiar faces: Harry, Ron, Neville, the Weasley twins, Percy, Hermione, Cedric, Cho Chang…
“My dear Mr.
Malfoy, why are there so many people?” Lorin felt his smile morph into a classic, insincere aristocratic smirk.
“I don’t know, sir.” Draco’s innocent eyes blinked, leaving Lorin with no heart to scold him.
“Never mind.
Uh…” Lorin massaged his temples, feeling a headache coming on.
No wonder the Hogwarts school motto warns against tickling a sleeping dragon…
It turned out an awake Draco was far more terrifying!
“Um, Percy, you’re a prefect, right?”
“Ah?
Me?” Percy clearly hadn’t expected Lorin to call on him, and a look of pleasant surprise washed over his face.
“Yes, sir!”
“Then please help maintain order.
We’ll sit around this table and chat.” Lorin left the staff table and sat down at the nearest Hufflepuff table, so as not to cause trouble for any other professors who might come to eat later.
“Everyone form a queue, sit down one by one, that’s it…”
“Fred, don’t cut the line!”
Seeing a circle of students sitting around him, with another massive ring surrounding them, Lorin smiled helplessly and pointed his wand at his throat.
Instantly, his voice boomed as though amplified by a microphone, ensuring every young witch and wizard could hear him clearly.
“Alright, alright.
Quiet down, everyone.”
It was a bit loud, though not quite as deafening as a Quidditch World Cup commentator, but it was more than enough.
“I didn’t expect so many lovely students to be this curious about me.” Lorin weighed his words, glancing at Draco Malfoy and George Weasley beside him.
“The truth is, I am merely a castle administrator.
My job is to keep you from getting hurt, and to stop you from doing things that break school rules…
Wouldn’t you agree, Mr.
Weasley?”
Lorin turned to look at George on his left, and the crowd burst into laughter.
Even George and Fred laughed heartily, not caring in the slightest that they were the targets of the joke.
“Alright, if you have any questions, ask them quickly.
Those who have classes tonight should head out first so you aren’t late.”
Not a single person left, but no one spoke up either.
“Um…
sir, may I ask you about Beauxbatons?” Draco spoke with his usual drawl, a bad habit shared by many French aristocrats as well.
Though if you didn’t draw out the ends of your words so much, perhaps you would seem even more ‘Malfoy.'”
“Oh, right!
Yes, sir!” Draco spoke much more briskly now, and even Harry, who was standing nearby, had to admit he sounded far less annoying.
“Mr.
Montmorency, during the start-of-term feast, we heard Professor Dumbledore say you were…
the most outstanding graduate in Beauxbatons history?”
“Yes.” Draco nodded eagerly at this, and the other students pricked up their ears.
“That’s an exaggeration.
I merely won a few Beauxbatons dueling championships.” Lorin waved it off, refusing to accept the grand title Dumbledore had bestowed upon him.
“Mr.
Montmorency, what are duels like at Beauxbatons?”
“We have standard wizarding duels, ceremonial exhibition duels, and chaotic group duels.”
“And what are you best at?”
“A little bit of everything.”
Clearly, even Hermione was skeptical of Lorin’s “little bit.”
“What kind of school is Beauxbatons, Mr.
Montmorency?” Draco continued curiously, and even Harry and Ron couldn’t help but lean in.
This was the first time they were hearing about the wizarding world abroad!
“A school that places a fair amount of focus on cultivating a student’s well-rounded qualities,” Lorin thought for a moment before giving a balanced answer.
“We don’t just have various magical classes; we also have to study social etiquette…”
“Wow!”
Listening to Lorin describe life at Beauxbatons, the students couldn’t help but feel a touch of yearning.
“Hey, hey, everyone.
While I have no intention of disparaging my alma mater, this is Hogwarts!” Lorin quickly pulled the students’ minds back, lest the Headmaster come looking for trouble if word got out.
“Speaking of which, Hogwarts doesn’t have any dueling classes.
Could you teach us, Mr.
Montmorency?” Hermione spoke up quietly from the side.
Surprisingly, even Draco Malfoy, who usually looked down on “Mudbloods,” didn’t argue.
Though at this point, he still had no idea that Lorin was also one of those he would call a “Mudblood.”
“I’m afraid not, Miss Granger.” Lorin shook his head, drawing a collective groan from the students.
“I am only the castle administrator.
I cannot overstep and do work that isn’t mine.”
“Oh, but Professor Quirrell’s Defense Against the Dark Arts class is so boring.
It would be much better if you taught us something like the Freezing Charm, Mr.
Montmorency.” Fred muttered loudly, earning unanimous nods of agreement from the crowd.
It was the first time Gryffindor and Slytherin had been so harmonious, but Lorin still tapped Fred lightly on the head with his wand.
“Do not speak ill of a professor behind their back, Mr.
Weasley.”
“My mistake, sir.
But you could also teach us some prank tricks!”
“Get lost, Weasley.
Mr.
Montmorency doesn’t have time for your silly tricks!” Draco sneered from the side.
“Oh, come off it, Malfoy.
“Quiet.” Lorin spoke softly.
“I hope you all can be united and harmonious.
Do not always look at things and people with prejudice.”
“Mr.
Weasley, the tricks you speak of require quite sophisticated magic.
Perhaps in your free time, you could consult Professor McGonagall and Professor Flitwick about spatial transfiguration and the reverse application of the Levitation Charm…”
***
The students’ enthusiasm far exceeded Lorin’s expectations.
Before he knew it, over an hour had passed in this Q&A session.
“Alright, alright.
Last question, please.
I have things to attend to tonight.” Lorin checked the time; it was already past eight.
It was about time to head back and wash up.
Hearing Lorin’s words, the students exchanged glances, none of them wanting to waste the final question.
Finally, a few girls nudged each other until they pushed a pretty, well-proportioned Gryffindor girl forward.
Blushing, she stepped up to Lorin:
“Mr.
Montmorency, how old are you?
Do you have a girlfriend?”
“That’s two questions, Miss Johnson.” Lorin smiled, but didn’t press the matter, a gentle expression gracing his face.
“I just turned eighteen this year.
As for a girlfriend, indeed, I don’t have one.”
Just as the young witches were gasping in pleasant surprise, Lorin immediately threw cold water on their hopes: “But to be precise, I have a fiancée whom I love dearly.
Come to think of it, I really miss her.
We haven’t seen each other in months…”
Lorin murmured to himself, even letting slip a few French words that left the young students thoroughly bewildered.
“Alright, run along now.
It’s getting late.” Lorin rubbed his eyes and waved them away.
“Mr.
Montmorency, will we have more activities like this in the future?” A Ravenclaw girl stood up and asked.
The other students instantly flared with excitement again, looking at Lorin eagerly.
“Tell you what.
Hogwarts has four houses.
The student from each house who earns the most house points each month may come visit me in my office.
For up to an hour, I will gladly answer whatever questions I can for you.
How does that sound?”
“My office is on the third-floor corridor.
It has an oak door…”
“Great!”
“Oh, George, our good days are officially over!” Fred looked at the students staring at them with a hint of dread.
Clearly, some of the students were already eyeing the Weasley twins as point-farming machines.
“Ah, Albus, good evening!”