The first week was busy for the freshmen.
Hogwarts didn't offer many first-year courses, and the homework was fairly easy. Most of the time was spent getting familiar with the castle's layout—especially the strange staircases, which changed rules depending on the time.
One morning, Loren made a mental note: after turning right, he should turn left. He tried to follow this rule at noon but still got trapped on a disordered staircase for nearly fifteen minutes.
Young wizards wandering the stairs was a common sight. Neville seemed particularly unlucky, though he had already written to his family asking for a memory ball to help him navigate.
When freshmen sought help from seniors, they were told it was a Hogwarts tradition—freshmen had to explore on their own.
The Weasley twins shared that many secret passages existed throughout the castle. They had spent time mapping shortcuts, which proved useful for getting to class or sneaking around at night.
Loren remembered a few: near the Hufflepuff Common Room, scratching a portrait led directly to the kitchen. The Room of Requirement was on the eighth floor, but Loren hadn't had time to explore it yet.
Herbology class was held three times a week, mixing students from different houses. That morning, freshmen gathered in the greenhouse behind the castle. Led by Professor Sprout, they transplanted a sour-smelling fungus.
Loren was grouped with Hermione, who had memorized the textbook long ago and listened intently. Loren hugged his thigh, and together they finished the task quickly and happily.
Few students liked following Hermione's instructions, but in class she was at ease and even began teaching Loren.
"If you change your bad habit of pranking, we could be good friends," she said.
"I'll try my best!" Loren declared loudly—then his voice faded, "But sometimes I can't control it."
"So you knew the cat was Professor McGonagall all along and deliberately sent me to her?" Hermione couldn't hide her frustration.
Loren looked innocent, as if saying, Not me, don't talk nonsense.
Hermione pinched Loren's face with her muddy hands—children's skin was soft and elastic, and the pinch felt oddly pleasant.
"Hey, don't go too far!" Ron called out guiltily, but dared not fight back.
Hermione recalled Professor McGonagall summoning Ron to her office. "Did she give you a lesson last night?"
"No, we just talked. I can't say more, but you'll find out later." Ron said no more. Though curious, Hermione wisely didn't press further.
The matter ended there.
At lunch, Ron noticed Professor McGonagall call Percy and the twins—the three older Weasley brothers—aside.
A senior joked it was probably the twins causing trouble again. Ron chuckled happily. He really was a brotherly friend.
That afternoon was Spell class with Professor Filius Flitwick, head of Ravenclaw House. He was so short he had to stand on a pile of books to reach his desk.
When Flitwick called the roll, he tripped in excitement over "Harry Potter—the famous Harry Potter!"
Flitwick had lived through Voldemort's dark period, trusted Dumbledore deeply, and greatly respected Harry's parents. Harry felt embarrassed.
He'd made a fool of himself, and some students sneered.
But when Flitwick started teaching, no one dared underestimate the tiny professor. He answered every question clearly and knew the origins of every spell.
The first lesson was on the Lumos Charm. Only a few students could produce a faint light at their wands' tips.
Hermione's glow was the brightest, earning Gryffindor five extra points. Though a Gryffindor, she became Flitwick's favorite student.
Loren mostly slacked off, careful not to get into trouble early on. He chatted casually with nearby students and got along well with some familiar faces.
Harry only understood half the theory but realized others were in the same boat. He relaxed and stopped being nervous.
He couldn't imagine how he would face his uncle's family's ridicule if he were expelled.
Ron's wand was badly broken—the unicorn hair core was exposed—making his spellcasting clumsy. Yet, Ron's ability to keep up despite this showed a hidden talent even he didn't realize.
Neville struggled to keep up but loved Herbology—the one class where talent and intelligence didn't matter as much. Patience was enough, and Neville had plenty.
Seamus was an explosive genius. Even the Lumos spell he cast sometimes blew out a table's surface.
Hermione constantly gave wand-waving and spell-chanting advice to those nearby.
Her behavior made others uncomfortable. Except for Loren, she had no friends.
Loren wasn't petty. He knew Hermione meant no harm. He simply said, "Yeah, yeah, that makes sense," and turned away, enjoying watching her get annoyed.
On Wednesday night, the students used a telescope to observe stars and learn the names and orbits of planets, but most treated it as entertainment.
The most anticipated class was Defense Against the Dark Arts. Everyone wanted to learn about strange magical creatures, dark magic, and useful spells.
However, Professor Quirrell's first class was a joke. The room reeked of garlic, and Quirrell struggled to maintain order as students mocked him.
Friday was Potions class.
That morning at breakfast, Loren sat next to Harry.
"Harry, have you previewed 'One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi' yet?" Loren's face practically begged to watch a show.
"I flipped through it before school started, but didn't read carefully." Harry looked confused. "Why? Is there a test before Potions?"
"I don't know if there is, but your forehead looked black earlier. Today won't be smooth." Loren's tone turned mysterious.
Hermione interrupted, "What magic is this? I haven't seen it before."
Loren was about to answer when the mail arrived.
At Hogwarts, owls fly in through skylights, deliver letters or packages, then leave.
Hedwig, with snow-white feathers, landed in front of Harry and placed a note on his plate.
Loren took the chance to pet Hedwig.
"Coo!" Hedwig flapped her wings, struggled briefly, then calmed after being fed jam bread and candy. Hermione, jealous, reached out to touch her too.
Harry read the note—it was from Hagrid.
Dear Harry:
I know you don't have classes Friday afternoon. Can you come have tea with me around 3 p.m.? I want to hear how your first week went. Please send a reply via Hedwig.
Hagrid
"Ron, Loren, want to come with me to visit a friend Friday?" Harry invited.
"Hagrid is the school's keykeeper. He lives in the Forbidden Forest. He's a kind giant," Harry explained.
"We can visit the Forbidden Forest!" Ron's eyes widened.
Loren was eager too—the forest seemed perfect for practicing magic.
They agreed, and Harry wrote a reply for Hedwig to deliver.
The Potions classroom was underground and colder than the castle's main building. Glass jars holding preserved animal specimens lined the walls.
Loren had mixed feelings about Professor Snape. Snape was undeniably good, but the saying rang true: the saddest thing is meeting someone, making a mistake, trying to make amends, only to realize the damage can never be undone.
Still, they needed to maintain a good relationship with Snape. Grandpa Bates depended on his wolfsbane potion, and it would be ideal to learn how to make it.
If not, they could buy it from Snape—though the price was unknown.
Loren had heard rumors about the Half-Blood Prince's notebook hidden near this classroom. He planned to search for it later—but not while school was in session.