Loren quickly finished his homework and joined Ron in blowing the blue flame back and forth. The two tilted their heads up, one blowing, then the other, passing the ball of fire between them. They were having a great time, like two stupid dogs playing fetch.
Hermione tucked her corrected draft into her book, planning to finish copying it out over the weekend.
The girl looked up at the two idiots playing with fire, then at Harry beside them, staring at his book and occasionally grinning foolishly. A deep sense of despair filled her. What was she supposed to do? None of these friends seemed very normal.
"Loren, how did things go with Lee Jordan?" Hermione found a topic to talk about.
"Phew!" Loren did not stop. "Lee Jordan said commentary depends entirely on improvisation during the match. Phew!"
"We can't possibly predict how the match will go, so there's nothing to practice. Phew!" Loren thought that made perfect sense. At least in that regard, the two of them were quite compatible.
The two were sitting very close together, and Hermione vaguely felt tiny droplets land on the back of her hand. Her expression turned horrified. His spit had flown onto her!!
"Enough!"
Hermione's temples throbbed as she took out her wand and tapped Loren, putting an end to this stupid-looking, boring, irritating game. She put the blue flame back into the jar.
"Why did you suddenly want to become a commentator?"
Hermione put the jar away. Ron was curious about that too. From what he had seen before, Loren was neither good at flying nor fond of Quidditch.
Loren looked at them as if they simply did not understand. "Whether it's Yellow Immortal or Guan God, they all started as commentators before eventually cultivating toxic predictions. Gods in their