Harry: Loren Still Cares About Me

Hogwarts.

The bluestone blocks of the outer walls had been weathered smooth by wind and sand, taking on a deep dark green after years of sun and rain. The lingering morning mist drifted around the corners, with dew still clinging to a few blades of grass. Yet the top of the tower basked in summer sunlight, its bricks and stones washed with a faint golden glow. The contrast between light and shadow made the magical school seem even more dreamlike.

In front of the Entrance Hall, Harry sat on the marble steps, staring intently at the Bronze Knut in his hand.

Unfortunately, the Bronze Knut remained silent. Several minutes passed without any new message. Unless something unexpected happened, he probably would not receive another message anytime soon.

The anticipation in Harry's eyes gradually faded. He let out a deep sigh, looking exactly like a lonely old man left behind in his hometown.

Based on what he knew of his friend, Loren had most likely put away the Communicator already. Unless he had some valuable intelligence, the next time he remembered to contact his roommate who had stayed at school would probably be on Harry's seventeenth birthday at the end of the month.

That heartless fellow was dependable at critical moments, and his advice was useful, but he only had enough patience for Hermione. As long as someone was not right in front of him, he would brush them off whenever he could.

Yet that guy was sharp-minded. No matter how awful his attitude was through the Communicator or on paper, he always found a way to dispel the other person's anger when they met again, leaving them with no temper at all.

"..."

Harry muttered under his breath. The next time they met, he would definitely demand an explanation and