Days at Hogwarts

In Potions class, Professor Snape's calm tone had become almost hypnotic from repetition, yet no student dared to fall asleep under his watchful gaze.

Today's lesson covered the properties and uses of bezoars. Hermione buried her head in her notebook, scribbling down every detail with relentless focus.

Loren, having already mastered much of the material, drifted from the lesson less than five minutes in. His thoughts returned to the conversation with Flamel from the night before.

What exactly is this "redemption of a soul in despair"...?

Riddles were the worst. Nico had vanished after posing his, and now Flamel floated helplessly, saying, "I'm sorry, Loren. Nico left no memory of that part. You'll have to discover it yourself."

Back in class, Loren silently wrestled with the mystery. Who was this desperate soul in need of redemption? Those lost to the Death Eaters? Ollivander? Snape? None seemed likely.

Could it even be the one who redeems Voldemort? With Loren's small frame, the idea felt laughable.

Hermione glanced at Loren and saw his vacant stare fixed ahead, completely tuned out of the lesson.

As her deskmate, she meant to prod him back to focus — but thought better of it, remembering her own exhaustion from last night's late study session with him.

Before she could act, Snape's voice cut through the room. He stopped lecturing and stalked behind Loren, his expression sharp.

The classroom instantly fell silent as every pair of eyes turned to Loren.

Hermione reached out to nudge him awake, but Snape's cold, unblinking gaze pinned her in place. She dared not move.

Snape was infamous for singling out Gryffindors, deducting points and humiliating them publicly — Neville had been reduced to tears more than once.

Only Hermione and Loren consistently escaped his wrath, their flawless performance shielding them.

Snape's eyes narrowed. "Some people, upon accomplishing something, become complacent and self-righteous."

He spoke of Peter Pettigrew, though the trial had barely concluded and few knew the details.

Students assumed he meant Loren and Hermione, who had never been caught out in class.

"But in Potions," Snape continued coldly, "you follow my rules."

He raised a hand and sharply smacked Loren on the back of the head.

"Mr. Morgan, answer my question."

Startled but unhurt, Loren turned to face the class.

"If your friend Harry is poisoned and you lack a prepared antidote, what do you do?"

Harry, sitting innocently up front, thought, Finally, I'm part of this.

Loren answered confidently, "I think you should seek the professors' help, Professor Snape."

Hermione's eyes darkened in frustration. She tugged at his collar and whispered, "Bezoar, bezoar!"

Loren thought, Silly witch, proud that his answer was sensible — after all, reporting emergencies promptly was common sense.

Snape's face darkened further. "No Professor, you handle it yourself."

He turned back to the blackboard and explained, "Place a piece of bezoar down the throat. It neutralizes many common poisons. For stronger toxins, additional ingredients are required to brew a more potent antidote."

Snape said no more and resumed his lecture.

"Miss Granger may believe she knows everything, but that is no excuse for disrupting my class."

He paused, then added, "Because of this Miss Know-It-All, Gryffindor will lose five points."

None of the Gryffindor lions cared. Snape's points deductions were a constant battle they accepted — and Hermione scored far more than they lost.

Hermione felt a flicker of injustice, though she knew Loren had the right answer. She blamed herself for trying to intervene.

By class's end, Hermione's voice had taken on a nasal edge from frustration.

"Loren Morgan," Snape called sharply, "see me after dinner."

Snape's irritation belied his private thoughts — recently, Dumbledore had pleaded with him, "Loren needs your help. For an old man like me, please assist him."

If Loren knew Snape's inner musings, he might have smiled.

After class, Loren and the group walked with Hermione down the corridor. Hermione's mood was dark.

Harry, fed up with being targeted himself, tried to reassure her. "Don't worry. Snape's always looking for excuses to dock points. This time you just got unlucky."

Loren nodded. "You've earned enough points to survive several deductions."

Neville added, "Maybe it was just Loren's bad luck today."

Ron growled, "If it were me, Dumbledore should ban that old bat from taking points from Gryffindor."

The group shrugged; points lost were expected.

Hermione clearly wanted none of it. Sniffling, she said, "I have to add three inches to my Transfiguration homework. Maybe Professor McGonagall will give me extra points." Then she hurried toward the library.

Ron muttered, "Didn't Professor McGonagall only ask for three inches?"

Loren smacked his lips. This is the King of Paper.